The North Face Endurance Challenge DC 50 Miler Race Report

Almost two weeks have past since I ran TNFEC 50 miler in DC (actually in Virginia, but close enough).  It was a day I won’t soon forget for a large number of reasons.

Going into this race, I knew it had the potential to be much hotter than the conditions I had trained in.  That’s pretty easy to figure out given the race was held in the DC area in the early part of spring, where temperatures and humidity have been known to begin rising much more quickly than in the Boston area.  Training through an intense New England winter, my toughness was not in question, but my acclimatization to heat certainly was.  To try and combat this, I did quite a few “heat suit” runs in multiple layers, a running coat, a hat, tights… 

Unfortunately, I was quite simply not prepared for the race day conditions.  Forecasted temperatures for the start of the race were mid-70s with high levels of humidity, rising into the low 90s as the day progressed.  Standing at the start line, I was absolutely sure the forecast was right; it was going to be a very hot day. 

Strangely enough, standing there in the half-darkness with Joel, it still hadn’t fully occurred to me that I was about to run 50 miles.  Maybe because I had never done it before my mind quite simply couldn’t grasp the task I was about to undertake.  Joel made some similar remarks about how he was feeling and we traded some giddy banter about the strangeness of it all.  Before long, the first wave of runners had departed.  As we were in the second wave, 1 minute later, we too were off.

My goal for the race was to take the first 14-15 miles of the race very easy.  I knew I’d be fighting adrenaline and didn’t want to ruin my day early.  Especially in the heat, I took great caution to run slowly, to drink often and to stay in touch with nutrition and hydration from the get go.  The schedule was simple:  a Gu every 30 minutes.  Every 90 minutes, a cliff bar.  Every hour, 2 SCaps.  Anytime the thought of drinking occurred to me, I drank heartily.  Every time I ate, I drank heartily.  

The first part of the course has a lollipop out-and-back.  I didn’t like this section at all as it felt counter-intuitive, like tack on mileage to an already arbitrary distance.  Once we got through the lollipop, though, and settled into some nice single-track, my mind started to settle.  Unfortunately, as we rolled alongside a golf course, the single track was so tight, passing wasn’t going to happen very easily.  I wasn’t running fast by any means, but I did catch up to some slower runners in front of me.  My flow was interrupted by their slower cadence and constant chatter, so when I saw a slight opportunity, I made a break off the trail to get around them.  I accomplished my goal, for sure, but in doing so, I ran into some stinging nettles.  Ouch!!  “Stay on the trail” I told myself.

When we reach the first of the short but very steep climbs on this course, I walked, despite feeling strong enough to run.  I was being extra cautious.  My climbing legs felt great through, and it felt great overall to be climbing.  I kept my pace measured on the downhills and my mind focused on staying upright.

I didn’t stop at the first aid-station as I still had plenty of water in my camelbak and plenty of nutrition as well.  The trail was quite hard to find as I ran past the Frasier aid-station, as it had become overgrown since I’d run that section earlier in the year with Joel.  Still, my mind was in a good place, my hydration, nutrition, body temperature and effort were all under control.

Soon enough I jogged down a steep decline and onto the road into Great Falls Park.  Waiting for me at Great Falls was my sister, who had taken great efforts to get to the park early enough to great me there and had prepared a number of helpful items to keep me fed and hydrated.  It was great to see her, and I was feeling really good.  She handed me a burrito, gave me some helpful words of encouragement and I headed over to my drop bag. 

Thanks to Joel’s good thinking, I copied him and prepared separate plastic baggies for each aid station stop at Great Falls.  This made the first exchange rather easy.  I emptied my trash, dumped the GU and Clif bars into my pack, dropped some nuun tablets into its bladder and headed to the actual aid station to get a fill of water.

I munched on the burrito Jen had given me and started up the fire road into the Great Falls loop that would be my undoing on this day.  I had done this loop twice with Joel during our course recon run earlier in the year.  I felt very confident I knew it well enough to know when to push and when not to.  Despite feeling strong enough to run, I walked as soon as the incline turned up, as many of the runners nearby me did.  As I turned from the fire road into the woods, I started to run, feeling quite good.  I made my way through a serious of ups and downs, none too high, but certainly steep enough.  Passing back towards the fire road, I saw Joel, who looked as if he was feeling quite good too.  This gave me a boost as I headed towards the next aid station.  Unfortunately, things soon started taking a turn for the worse.

I started to feel some stomach pains.  I have trained with burritos and found them to be the most agreeable thing to my stomach while I’m running.  Not so on this day I guess.  The heat was started to ratchet up, and I had been drinking a LOT of water as well, so these were surely contributing factors.  Regardless, my stomach was not well. 

As I passed through the next aid station and onto swamp trail, I made a special note to stay upright, as I had fallen in this technical section twice in my previous run here.  It’s made up of a lot of roots and rocks and if you don’t pay attention, they can jump up and bite you.  I did manage to stay upright the first time through this section, but my stomach was not getting better.  Back on the fire road, I took a detour to use the bathrooms that were near the turn.  Once I emerged from the bathrooms, I had a bit of an exchange with a course official who thought I was trying to cut a loop.  In the end, after he conferred with another official, they agreed the mark on my bib indicating that I had already made a stop at the second aid station was enough, but the situation frustrated me.  I had already lost enough time having to stop and this just send my mental state into the negative.

I then hit the iconic section of this course, a ¾ mile section along the exposed cliffs of the river bank.  The sun took its toll on me during this section and the relentlessly bad footing kept me from finding a rhythm.  Still, I pushed along knowing I’d soon be back at the great falls aid station where I would see not only my sister, but hopefully my wife and son and Joel’s wife and their son.

When I popped back out at the aid station, I saw no one, however, which was strange because I knew my sister (at least) was there.  I went to my drop bag and swapped everything out, filled my camelpak with water and peered around the crowds.  Turns out they thought I’d be coming from the same direction I had previously come, so they were waiting up the trail a ways.  I spotted Joel’s wife and waved for them to come over.  I spend some time high-fiving my son and letting everyone know how darn hot it was before departing.

This second loop of great falls park was really awful for me.  The day had gotten quite hot at this point, and it was starting to take a toll.  I didn’t have much energy, and instead of simply deciding to walk to conserve energy, I relished the chance to walk, if not HAD to walk due to lack of energy. 

The loop was unremarkable, apart from my seeing Joel (closing ground on me), taking a spill on swamp trail and deciding that I was no longer able to run this race as I ran along Great Falls approaching the aid station.  The heat had become unbearable, and I was losing the battle of core temperature.

As I pulled into the aid station, I immediately sat down and told my wife and sister that I wasn’t able to continue.  My wife said that I should keep pushing on, and my sister shouted at me: “You’re a Hodge.  Hodge’s finish.  You’re finishing this thing.”  That plus my son walking over with ice and putting in on the back of my head (he is nearly 2) really sealed it.  All that my family endured during my training and to be out here with me today, I owed it to them, to my friends, to Joel still out on the course and to myself to see it through.  After a long sit with ice on my neck and a box of coconut water (something I will use again, really good on this day) I got myself together and packed up to go back out for the final loop.  This time, I filled my bladder with ice, and put a bunch of ice down my shirt and (ahem) in my shorts.

It was amazing what the a little bit of coldness did for me.  It wasn’t apparent at first.  I started the loop much as I had the previous one, walking, feeling no energy and with a stomach that was not agreeing with anything I tried to put in it.  I was completely off my nutrition schedule, but I did increase the amount of SCaps I was taking and I think the coconut milk really helped as well.

When I saw Joel, he was not too far behind, maybe 15-20 minutes.  He told me to take it slow, that he’d catch up and we’d take it in the rest of the way together.  When Todd, Joel and I ran the Key Bank Vermont City Marathon last year, I had a similar implosion (though more physical, with leg issues).  Joel stopped his race late (mile 18) while very close to hitting his goal time to walk me in.  I was very grateful, but also felt awful.  I was determined not to let this happen again, even if it meant hiding in the bushes as he passed.

Soon after that, however, the ice started to do its work.  I started to cool down.  I started to run.  I started feeling better, taking in calories.  I stopped at the next aid station and had them dump cold water over my head (they were out of ice).  I ate two unboiled (no idea why they didn’t boil them, but I assume oversight) with salt and starting taking in clif shot blocs which were available at the aid station.  This all helped.  I ran swamp trail without falling and more quickly that I had the previous 2 times this day.  I made it through the Great Falls “cliff” section mostly running.  When I got to the aid station, I was extraordinarily hot, but not feeling too badly.  All I needed was some ice to cool me down.

Oh no!!!  No more ice!!  I’m amazingly disappointed that they ran out of ice.  It was an incredibly hot day.  Races have been known to be cancelled for this sort of thing…  but not an ultra.  They ran out of ice and I was going to have to deal with it.  I drank some more coconut milk, had a couple pieces of fruit, restocked my pack for the trip back to the finish and set out to finish this thing.

Jen paced me for the next couple of miles.  It was nice to run with her and took my mind of how frustrated I was to not have been able to cool down.  I don’t get to see her enough, and we spent the time catching up.  It was a nice boost.

After a steep climb, Jen left to head home after a long day of supporting me.  I didn’t feel too bad at this point, so I pushed the pace a bit.  This was fine, until I hit a road section exposed to the sun.  The heat crushed me.  Soon after, I was in an open field with the sun once again beating down on me.  I felt myself boiling… I was reduced to walking and my stomach really started to get bad.  By the time I made it back onto the single track section (and into the shade of the woods), I was frantically looking for places to duck in the bushes.  This would be a recurring theme for the rest of my day.

As would not being able to take in calories.  Be it due to too much water, too much salt, too much heat or some combination, my stomach was done cooperating and was in full revolt.  I ducked into the bushes a couple of times, and the rest I walked and jogged and walked and jogged.  The trail was littered with folks who were in distress, laying in the tall grass waiting for medical attention.  I was handing out SCaps left and right.  Whether I drank too much, and took too much salt is still debatable, but I will say I was still sweating, which meant to me I was hydrated.  That was the most positive thought I had.

A fellow I had been back and forth with all day came up at one point and we pushed ourselves through the next couple of miles together, him leading pulling me along, and then me leading pulling him along.  At one point, I turned around and he was gone.  And so with him went my motivation to run.

My energy was gone.  The Frasier aid station was a mess when I got there, and I couldn’t (mentally) take the time to get what I hoped for (ice, a beverage other than water, something edible), so I quickly filled my bladder with two cup-fulls of ice (they were rationing) and took off.  Still not able to eat, and still ducking into the bushes, my energy hit an all-time low for the race.  I was resigned by mile 42 that I would have to walk it in.  I could not get my mind around how long it would take in this heat to walk it in.  It was demoralizing.  Being exposed to the heat through the golf course on tight single track with a stomach that was bursting every half mile or so was really taking its toll on my mental state.

After 4 miles of mostly walking, I hit the last aid station.  This was just before the lollipop out and back, which was frustrating at the start of the race, but maddeningly so this late into it.  I could not believe how slow I was moving.  I could not believe how far off my goals I was.  I could not believe I couldn’t just make forward progress to the finish, but had to waltz around this silly lollipop out and back to make the mileage right.  I also noticed there was nothing I could imagine eating or drinking at the aid station apart from some coke.  I drink two warm cups of it and starting walking the loop.

A few things happened at this point.  I think the carbonation from the coke settled my stomach a bit, the calories and caffeine in it spiked my energy and I realized that I was going to finish, no matter what.  It hurt to walk and it hurt to run… and I’ve heard the advice time and time again: “If it hurts to walk and it hurts to run, run”.  And so I ran.  And I started shouting at people, “We’re going to finish these 50 miles”!  I think people must have thought I was crazy, and surely, by this point I was.  But I was running. 

I saw Joel one last time as I was nearly done with the lollipop.  I was amazed, by that point, that he hadn’t caught me, but I could tell from his gait that he was dealing with problems of his own (and it turns out, the entire bottoms of his feet were completely covered in blisters and mashed up to bits, making each step nearly intolerable).

But I was running.

I stopped at the aid station to grab some more coke, had them pour some water over my head and took off, shouting.

I ran large stretches, pausing to walk when there was shade.  When I reached the golf cart path leading to the finish, I let it all go… I ran as well as my overheating, depleted and battered body would allow, purely on mental strength.  I crossed the finish in a sea of emotion, nearly 3 hours off my “best case” time goal, to very minimal fanfare.  I was done.

What an experience for my first “real” ultra.  It was a super long day, one that surely could have been better had I made some smarter decisions, had I done hotter heat training, had I done any number of things.  But it was a true learning experience… I learned (some of) what to do and what not to do in a race of that length, under those conditions.  Some tidbits I will take to my next race are:

• change shoes and socks and much as possible, if necessary, to keep the feet in top condition; 
• if you cannot take in calories from solid or semi-solid food, take them in from sports drinks or coke; 
• if you are sweating, your hydrating is ok, no need to overdo it; 
• start a regular schedule of SCaps and stick to it, no need to overdo it; 
• Have alternate means of cooling yourself down, if possible; 
• Coconut water is quite good, as is coke.

I also learned that I’m made of the right stuff to get me through a race like that.  It was revealing and rewarding to finish a race in those conditions, feeling the way I felt.  I take away from that experience things that will contribute positively to who I am as a person, things that will positively influence my life going forward.

And you’d better believe I can’t wait to race that far (hopefully more quickly next time) again!

Race Report: Ashland Half Marathon

Last Sunday, over 700 people toed up to the original starting line of the Boston Marathon for the inaugural Ashland Half Marathon. Sponsored by the Ashland Redevelopment Authority, the race is looking to raise funds to enhance Marathon Park – a small green space on the banks of the Sudbury River – and also create a marathon hall of fame at the Ashland VFW. To me, it was my first long race since the Vermont City Marathon, and since I live in Ashland, one that would give me a fun home court advantage.

Sunday broke with overcast and chilly weather, with intermittent rain falling as Hurricane Sandy inched its way north, so I broke out the running tights and jogged down to the starting line with some friends. We were running late, but that was okay – since we were sharing the start line with folks running a 5K race, my strategy was to avoid getting caught up in a fast start in favor of going slow for a few miles and seeing where I stood. Since I missed my usual stretching, these first few miles – luckily relatively flat – would also serve as my warm up.

Regardless, I felt good as Bill Rogers mocked the drawing of the original line in the dirt way back in 1897, and soon enough we were off! Looking at my splits, I actually ran faster than I expected for the first few miles, feeling relaxed and enjoying the view of my hometown and all of the people that had braved the weather to cheer us on. I felt good and loose and started to seriously pick up the pace at mile 3.5 when Cedar street starts a long slow climb up to Eliot. Since a majority of my training is in the hills of Ashland, what I was hoping would be the case came true: almost everyone that I passed during the race was on a hill. So striding steadily up the hills on Cedar and Eliot Streets, I was passing people – and passing them for good. It was a good feeling.

The first challenge for me was the big downhill on South Street as we worked our way down to the Ashland Reservoir. My right knee is not a fan of running downhill, so I try to take these slopes easy, but I also know that gravity is providing free energy if you but lean forward and open your stride. I also took advantage of the rest to put on my headphones, which always help to motivate me through the hard times in a race. And it was a good thing I did. The rain started in earnest as ran by the Ashland gravel quarry on Spring Street, and I found myself running by myself. My usual tactic is to eye the runner in front of me with an eye towards picking them off, but the next runner was easily 200 yards in front of me by the time we got to the 135 straightaway, so I hunkered down with my tunes and focused on pushing a steady pace.

It wasn't until we hit the next hill that I was in a crowd again. At 9.5 miles, we climbed a sharp hill over the train tracks and started running towards my house. I run this stretch of road all the time, and knew that there was a killer climb up Green Street just past the 10 mile marker, so I mentally focused on crushing this hill. It sucked, as I knew it would, but I passed three people on that quarter mile of 12% grade and gasped my way down Green Street towards the highlight of the race – my family and Eric were cheering us on at the turn onto Acton Street. Disaster almost struck as I rolled my ankle in a pothole hidden by the fallen leaves, but the adrenaline of seeing my boys’ face as they cheered me on kept me moving.

However, at this point, the lack of speed workouts was catching up with me. I knew that there was one last good hill – the stretch of Myrtle and the 270 degree turn onto Winter – so I kept pushing, knowing that the last mile was a big downhill. I did well – passing another few runners – but I had nothing left in the tank at that point, and was passed in turn by three people as we strode downhill towards the finish. I was also concerned about the conditions; by this point, the steady rain made for some slick streets and the last thing I wanted to do was wipe out at the very end of the race. So I reluctantly watched these three runners pass me while trying to maintain what speed I could. I didn't think I had anything left in me at all until I saw the finish line and the time reading 1:35... my PR is just under 1:38, so I knew I had it, so I gritted my mouth and punched out the last 50 yards as best I could.

I finished in 1:35:30, besting my Quincy Half Marathon time by over two minutes. 25th overall, 13th out of 89 in my age group. No word if I get bonus points of holding the upper marker of 18-39! Regardless, I’m satisfied with the results and already looking forward to my next one!

Related Posts:
The Calm Before the Storm
Race Report: Quincy Half Marathon

Further thoughts on the Vermont City Marathon

Todd's excellent race report captures the energy and the beauty of the Vermont City Marathon.   As a newcomer to the race, I would add just a few additional impressions.

First off - the weather in northern Vermont is apparently totally psycho.  Just days before the race, forecasters had us on the edge of our seats, with predictions of either rain or, even worse, 90 degree heat.  Somehow, though, we were blessed with a beautifully clear day, with temperatures around 60 degrees at the start of the race, and no higher than 70 degrees four hours later.

I'd feared that the lack of starting corrals would lead to a difficult start, but most runners found appropriate places and the race opened up fairly quickly.  I very much enjoyed the first three miles, which were run through Burlington's town center as the town's Sunday morning brunch-goers cheered us on.

The next section, a six-mile out-and-back along the Burlington beltline, was gorgeous, but at times congested with runners going opposite ways along the same road.  I looked for Todd (who was well ahead of me) on the other side of the road but didn't see him; I did, however, manage to give Eric a high five.  It was awesome to come back into town at the end of loop and see family and friends cheering for me.

The next loop went south through the city, and much of this is a blur.  However, I loved the views across the lake on the last two miles of this loop.  The track got very narrow at sections, but I was well ahead of my pace group at this point, and so not feeling the crowds.  The loop ended with the "Assault on the Battery," and, despite all the hype, I didn't find this hill that challenging.  I just slowed it down a bit and let the cheering crowds -- and again, my family! -- provide the adrenaline boost to get me up the hill. 

The next eight or so miles were much more mellow as the race winded through a number of neighborhood streets.  Here, the spectators weren't here to cheer on a particular runner; they were camped out and partying and enjoying the show.  Finally, in the last couple of miles, we hit a quiet stretch on a bike path through the woods, and then the race was over.

There are a few things that could have been better -- more portable toilets, more evenly mixed gatorade, better organization post-race -- but it is hard to worry much about such small details.  The marathon was smooth, well organized, and the crowds couldn't have been better.  I only wish I'd carried a camera. 

Race Report: Vermont City Marathon

“My time, the rank I attain, my outward appearance — all of these are secondary. For a runner like me, what’s really important is reaching the goal I set myself, under my own power. I give it everything I have, endure what needs enduring, and am able, in my own way, to be satisfied. From out of the failures and joys I always try to come away having grasped a concrete lesson.”
- Haruki Murakami, from What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

I finally ran 26.2! The Vermont City Marathon was last Sunday, and your RR&RS bloggers all took part. I was particularlly excited to run the VCM for two reasons: one, I grew up in the Burlington area, and running the first few races as part of a relay team were so fun that I wanted to experience the race in its entirety, and two, I know that Burlington knows how to throw a party. And the VCM didn't disappoint on the latter! The day will filled with incredible sights that I don't have the time to list now, but short list of some of the more memorable ones were: wall-to-wall people lining the streets of the city to cheer us on, a clapping drag queen on Church Street, Eric and Mo’s wives with their “Dads of RR&RS sign, seeing a view containing both Mount Mansfield and Camel's Hump at once, and lots of bands ranging from the to the country rock ensemble on North Street playing “queen of hearts” to the random guys on the sidewalk strumming their guitars or blowing hot oboe riffs.

But all that was in the future. The three of us toed the start line filled with the confidence of a good eight months of training. So good, in fact, that visions of running a 3:30 filled my head, so from the gun, I ran with that pace group, luxuriating in my tapered legs, soaking in the crowd cheering us on, and enjoying seeing some of the old sights from my UVM days (Bove's, the beautiful house of the Fiji fraternity). As we worked our way onto the Burlington Beltway – an out-and-back on a closed freeway – the running started to get serious. Still feeling good, I slowly passed the 3:30 pace group on a downhill and sunk into myself for a bit, enjoying my music and trying to ignore the annoying footing on the canted freeway. Looking back on my splits now, I was running much faster than I had anticipated, but it sure didn't feel that way – I was cruising and feeling damned good doing it.

So I was surprised when I started feeling my calves around mile 10 as we turned onto Church Street. Not good. I've experienced this before in races: the calves tighten up because of the faster pace of the race and the extra pounding on the pavement. I slowed down and tried to drag my toes a bit in an attempt to stretch out the calves as I ran, but as we started south the situation wasn't getting any better.

My own personal cheering section!

One major highlight was mile 12, where my family gathered to offer me encouragement and water. After that, after this my race went sour. I knew I was in trouble because my calves were hard as rocks and not loosening up. I was drinking lots of water and Gatorade in fear of cramps. I was stopping  to stretch the calves. None of this helped. At the half-way point, I just tried to relax and enjoy the awesome scenery of the Adaronaks across Lake Champlain, and this distracted me enough to get me to the Burlington Taiko drummers situated at the foot of the course’s major hill: the assult on Battery.  Hearing the pounding of all of these deep drums was incredibly invigorating, and fueled what was a great run up the hill: it was actually a good rest for my calves. Unfortunately, as I crested the hill and started down North Ave around mile 16, I started experiencing sharp nerve pain in my right knee.

KBVCM Splits

I toughed it out for a while, but by mile 18, I was half walking and half jogging in an attempt to mitigate what was an electric nerve pain shooting from my knee. It was occasionally so debilitating that I literally couldn't run at all. Cursing my bad luck, I sunk into a dark place within myself as I struggled to keep moving, completely ignoring  the lawn parties lining the race route as we weaved our way through the suburbs north of the city. By mile 20, I was miserable and debating giving up. People were passing me left and right, and I wasn't even enjoying the families offering me water, oranges, watermelons and, in one extreme case, small cups of beer.

The turning point was at mile 22, when a guy in an oversized foam cowboy hat passed me, smiling and having a grand old time. This finally drove home that I wasn't going to achieve the time that I expected, and just needed to relax and focus on finishing. My dirty secret is that I’m a stubborn bastard at the core, so I vowed to keep moving the best that I could and finish the race even if I needed to walk the rest of the way. I felt like DeNiro chanting "I've come too far" in Midnight Run. So I soaked my head in a garden hose sprinkler, took a bathroom break, texted my wife to let her know not to expect me until after the 4:00 mark, and figured out a way to “run” that minimized the pain. This involved pumping my arms as hard as I could, which eventually lurched my legs into motion, and I alternated between this shuffling jog and speed walking for the last few miles. For this reason, the last hour of the race passed in a delirious haze - all I really remember is the pain, my thoughts as I struggled to keep moving, and a few more memorable scenes (incredulous joking with another slowpoke that we were doing this for Michelob; the woman wearing diamond-studded Mickey Mouse ears; an annoying sign claiming that "Pain is Weakness Leaving Your Body").

I wish I could say that I crossed the finish line and felt an incredible sense of accomplishment at my time of 4:15, but honestly I was just glad that it was over. I grabbed my knees and sucked wind for a few moments, tossed back a few chocolate milks and a banana, and worked my way over to my family, where the endorphins carried me through an over-loud and overcrowded “reunion zone.” It was a hot day and my kids were overstimulated, so we didn't partake of the end-of-race scene: we took some pictures and headed to my Mom’s house for BBQ and cold Magic Hat. Is there anything better than a cold beer in the sun after a long race?

It was a long race, and one that I enjoyed overall, despite the uncomfortable finish. Reflecting upon the experience, I've been pondering which concrete lesson to take away (as Murakami suggests above), and  the major one is how humbling running 26.2 miles is. I consider myself a pretty fast runner, and yet 343 runners passed me in the last six miles of the race! Still, I finished, which I didn't believe I could do even six months ago. I'm also surprised I let ambition take over my belief that running is practice, but next time i'll be more diligent about adhering to my pacing plan - really, just looking at the marathon as another long run. And there will be a next time, because at some point, i'm taking another crack at 26.2: I want to see what I can do with a healthy knee!

Cross-posted on Thought Ambience

Taper Time

less than two weeks remain before the race.  i've put in over 700 miles so far this year preparing for one single run, a fact which i'm finding a bit hard to get my mind around right now.  it's pretty clear that the journey is much more than a means to the end, as as todd pointed out, and i'm not terribly interested in stating my goals for the race, but i will say that i'm very happy with how training has gone.

i had some very memorable runs, most of them along the ever-beautiful charles river,

some of them with my co-bloggers todd and joel, a few really nice trail runs and a few really awful slogs as well.  through all of it, i can say i've never enjoyed running more than i do now.

i'm really looking forward to toeing the line in a couple of weeks, of spending a few hours running and then spending an evening with my close friends and family celebrating.

i don't expect the next two weeks to be easy; my mind and body aren't wired correctly for tapering.  i hope my legs will thank me on race day!

until then, happy taper time!!

The Tension Between the Scientist and the Artist

"When I look back at a race I look at it first through the lens of a scientist and then through the eyes of an artist. What factors contribute to my performance? What things can I tweak or try out next time out? What good things were reinforced? What felt tired? What workouts do I need to do to be better prepared? How were my thoughts out there? Did I enjoy the race? These are all questions of the scientist.

The artist in me looks back at the race and asks how does this race fit into the larger picture being painted? What things about my performance do I not understand? Did I do a good job of fully expressing me with whatever energy I had to give on the day? What new strokes can I try out next time?

There is always in tension in running between the scientist who wants to have an explanation for everything and the artist who is ok with not understanding all the mysteries of running, knowing that perhaps the next great performance may come from thinking outside the box. I have found that both the scientist and the artist are necessary in becoming a complete runner and processing the good, the bad, and everything in between on race day."

- Ryan Hall

Race Report: Quincy Half Marathon (Another Runner's Take)

todd has posted his race report, but i thought i'd share mine as well, to give another (albeit quite similar) perspective.

going into this race, i had done the half marathon distance only once before.  it was my very first race and i had a great experience.  my training for that half had wasn't much. a friend who was also running the race asked me, about 2 weeks before the race, what my longest run had been.  at that point, it was only 6 miles.  i ran every day but the day before the race and got one 12 miler in (with my friend's help).  i ran around a 1:42 at that race and was pretty happy with the result.

by contrast, my training leading into this race has been voluminous, with many miles logged and long runs topping out just over 19 miles.  still, i was treating this as a training run, and so i figured my time would be in the 1:50-1:55 range.  i have recently been finding a bunch more pace in shorter runs, but my runs of 13+ miles haven't been at a very high pace.  beyond ensuring that i was staying on track in my marathon training (2 months away now!!) by not getting injured, i just plain didn't think i could run much faster than that for this distance.

i ran the race with two friends, josh and todd.  todd and i run together quite regularly, and i've come to accept that the guy is just plain faster than me.  he too is training for the marathon so we both decided to take it slow at the start.  josh shot right out, and i wouldn't seem him again until the later miles of the race.  todd and i hung back, fighting the race day adrenaline and keeping a nice, easy pace.  todd broke off after the first mile to tie his shoe, and soon after that he went flying past me (i still think he was munching spinach or something instead of tying his shoe).  knowing he is faster than me, i didn't try to keep pace with him.  i wanted to run my own race and not push beyond my limits.  the last thing i needed was another lower leg injury.

to my surprise, i settled into a really nice rhythm.  miles 2, 3 and 4 were all sub 8 minute miles.  i was running much faster than i had planned, but i felt no ill effects for it.  the early stretch of the race was run along the ocean, with a nice breeze coming in on an almost unbelievably nice day for this time of year.  the sun beating down on my face, the great scenery and the droves of runners in bright colors had me mesmerized, and my body's natural rhythm was working very well.  when we left the road along the water and found ourselves in a more residential neighborhood, i realized i was running below 7:30 pace.  i took stock of how i felt, and i really didn't feel badly at all.  too, i had todd in my sights and was able to get right on his heels on a slight incline.

for the first time in a long time, i actually considered racing in a race.  i had strategy forming in my mind.  i thought i would stick on todd's heels as best as i could, and, stealing one of his moves, try and launch a surprise attack on him with a kick at the end.  we kept pace with one another for another few miles.  i think around mile 8 or 9 todd stopped off for a bio-break...  i was so close behind him that when he looked back to check the field, i had already passed him.  in terms of racing, this was not how i had planned it!!  not only was todd setting a nice pace for me to keep up with, something that kept me steady and within myself, now my strategy for "racing" was out of the window!!

the next stretch i ran alone.  shortly after the mile 9 marker, i spotted josh up ahead.  it was nice to see him, and keeping him in my sights helped me settle my pace down quite a bit.  i didn't want to make a push to catch completely up to him because i knew that the last two miles were probably going to hurt, given that i had been keeping a much faster pace than i normally keep in training runs.

shortly after the 10 mile marker, as i was toiling up a slight incline, todd came flying past me.  i shouted his name, but he didn't turn around or acknowledge me.  at the time, i thought, "man, he is serious about beating me!", but as it turns around, he was completely unaware that he had passed me (or that i had passed him).  having him pass me was a bit demoralizing, but only to the competitive part of me.  i was otherwise still feeling great.  passing through the 11th mile marker, i knew i was going to be able to maintain a similar pace through the end of the race.  seeing todd and josh not too far out of reach in front of me, and seeing both of their families rooting us on along the course provided a nice boost.

todd put in his kick around mile twelve, and as he pulled away, i didn't have it in me to try and match him.  i did put in my own kick, but i knew right away it wasn't going to get me closer to him.  i focused my efforts on maintaining my form, on keeping my breathing steady and ensuring i wasn't pushing myself anywhere near the fear of injury.  i crossed the line in the beautiful sun of the early afternoon at 1:38:39, my new half-marathon PR.

both todd and josh ran great races, both crossing the finish line in front of me.  we all finished within a minute of one another, which has never happened to me before when i've run with friends.  it was nice to have shared the experience of running that race with them on such a wonderful day and at such a wonderful event.  we talked through it over beers back and josh's and all agreed that there will be a marker on our calendars for this event next year.

i am really happy with the race and my performance.  it gives me the confidence that i can push the pace at longer distances (well beyond my training pace) and not blow up or bonk.  i'm glad i decided to run this race and happy with how well it has fit into my marathon plan.

Race Report: Quincy Half Marathon

Pacing for the Half of Quincy

I've read that for those of us new to marathon training that it’s a good idea to run a half-marathon about two months beforehand to get a feel for long-distance racing. Since the Burlington Marathon’s at the end of May, I signed up for the Half of Quincy – a new half-marathon / 5K race that was held this past Sunday. The race had the added benefit of being on the water (always nice) and being in Josh's hometown , my old college roommate and a longtime friend who also happens to be a speedy runner.

It hasn’t been much of a winter this year in New England, and this Sunday was no exception – it must have been 55 when we lined up to start and rose into the 70s as the day wore on. Still, it was March, with a chilly wind off the water, so Eric, Josh and I lined up in shorts and long-sleeve shirts. Eric and I started out slowly, quickly losing sight of Josh in the crowd, because we had both stated our intention of treating this race as a training run and because I was fearful of aggravating the strange right-calf pains I'd been experiencing the last few weeks. However, the great weather and competition meant that after the first mile I felt comfortable enough settling into a comfortable 7:30 pace. I was loving not carrying the hand-held - many thanks to the volunteers handing out water! - and the flat course. Training on Ashland’s hilly terrain really paid off here, with a max elevation gain of 100 feet - and all that within a mile - I was able to keep a faster pace for longer than I normally do. 

Most of the race, I was by myself, although afterwards Eric told me that he was on my tail for a long time before I had to stop for a quick bathroom break at 7.5 miles. The crazy thing was that when I started running again I passed him at some point without even noticing! At that point, I was locked in – I had changed my music from my typical ambient downtempo (The Orb, mostly) to straight rock and roll, and  suspect that I passed him when Zevon was pounding out "Boom Boom Mancini". That song energized the second half of the race for me – and between the toons and my stop, I felt very strong, and started slowly increasing my speed, becoming ever more confident in the health of my calf.

I finally saw Josh up ahead of me around 10 miles and worked steadily to catch up. I caught up with him after mile 11, with Eric (unbeknownst to me) right on our tails. I said Hi to Josh (and our families, who had come out to watch) and, not wanting to lose the great feeling in my legs, took off for the finish line. While I didn’t finish with a kick, I slowly sped up to a 7:00 minute mile pace as I crossed the finish line in 1:37:51. Josh was right behind me at 1:38:32, with Eric on his heels at 1:38:39. An excellent effort by all! We celebrated with bananas and coconut water, I gave my medal to Hunter, and enjoyed the incredible food provided by the Culinary arts program at Quincy High School - homemade cookies, chicken and minestrone soup, and wraps - before heading back to Josh's house for cold beers.

All in all I couldn’t be happier with my performance. My calf injury not only appears to have cleared up but I was also able to run much faster than I had hoped (I was anticipating finishing in 1:50; certainly no faster than 1:45). I’m feeling much more confident in my ability to tackle longer distances, which is good, because the next few weekends are going to be filled up with ever-longer distances (this Sunday I tackle 16 miles!) And, most importantly, it was an excellent time on an amazing day with some of my best friends. I look forward to running it again next year!

Race Report: Winter Classic 5K

Eric and I ran the Winter Classic 5K a week ago. It might have the coldest race that I’ve ever ran. I’ve run a few cold races in my day – the New England High School XC championship in 1991 was run in a cold rain, and a turkey trot back in 05 was pretty chilly – but the problem here was threefold: the temps were low 30s all morning long, the shadows thrown by the tall Cambridge buildings kept the starting line in shadow, and we had nobody to take our warm up gear at the starting line, forcing us to wear just our race gear all morning long. You can see the effect of the cold and the crowd in the pace picture at the starting line where it took a while to get moving. Eric will testify – it was a hard race to warm up for; it was very hard to get the muscles loosened in that cold. What was amazing was the outfits of some of the other runners – there were a number of “sexy elves” wearing shirt skirts, and the dude in front of us stripped down to a bikini brief that he really shouldn’t have been wearing. The image of the potbellied thong got me moving, but I did have to weave pretty aggressively between people in order to get up to speed. Once we turned on to Mass Avenue I hit a pretty good groove—there was a good competition so that I could focus my efforts at steadily passing people; it was a much different environment than my last race.

To be honest with you, most of the race went by in a haze. I was playing  music in the hopes to keep my energy level up, but I had problems with not only my selection but also the levels of the songs that were playing. I had to tear off my hat and gloves pretty quickly, and ended up losing a glove during the race (I was able to find it afterwards thank goodness). But I did have my phone reporting my pace every half-mile, and that kept me focused enough to finish in 19:38.4, giving me a 6:16 pace per mile. I was hoping to finish a tad faster, but I’m still really happy with the effort. This will be my last 5K for a while; now it's time to stretch out the mileage for the Burlington Marathon next May!

from 5k to ultramarathon?

after having taken an extended break from running to heal some injuries, fix some health issues and pursue some other interests, i start back just before 2010 turned into 2011.  i had been off for over a year and to say i was out of shape would have been putting it mildly.  case-in-point i signed up for a 5k (Ras na hEireann) with Todd, trained a bit but ultimately got injured (pulled hamstring) and had to pull out of the race.  a pulled hamstring training for a 3.1 mile race.

and now i've set my sights on two big races for 2012, the first is the Vermont City Marathon, a good 'ol 26.2 miler and the second is the New River Trail 50k, which would be my first ultramarathon.

am i nuts?  debatable; but is this possible?  YES!!!  absolutely.

firstly, think of Joel.  the first race he EVER ran was the 2011 edition of the New River Trail 50k.  and, not surprisingly, he recovered enough to start training for the 2012 Vermont City Marathon as well.

secondly, while the longest race i did in 2011 was 4.2 miles (beyond that it were just a handful of 5ks), i USED to race much longer races (albeit triathlons).  my body has certainly endured hours of punishment at the hest of sport.

the real question is, can it handle hours of punishment from running alone?  that's what i'll find out over the course of less than a year.

after taking a break for the latter part of summer and the early part of fall, i've now started a training program that i think is going to get me from 5k fitness to ultramarathon fitness.  i'm not planning to run a crazy, mountainous 100-miler (though i won't rule it out for the future :), just a relatively flat, 31.1 miler in October of next year.

as for how i'm gearing my initial training for this, i'm focusing so much less on going faster, not even so much on going farther and so much more on going longer.  it's a new kind of running for me and a very enjoyable switch.  i set out without considering pace at all and simply try to run for a longer period of time.  your typical Long Slow Distance runs without set goals other than to continue to increase my weekly mileage by a reasonable level each week (10%).

i plan to update this blog with my progress along the way and use it as a way to keep myself honest.  i know if i write it here, at least Todd and Joel will hold me to it!!

Related Posts:
Race Report: New River Trail 50k
It's On!
why i run races i know i won't win
Post Ultramarathon Recovery

why i run races (i know i won't win)

i do not run in order to run faster.  i do not run in order to win.  this is quite convenient considering my chances of winning are, well...  i don't race in order to win.

Geoff Roes, Ultra-Marathon king and my favorite endurance athlete, just posted some interesting thoughts on the love/hate relationship he has with the daily run, which he describes as:

the day in and day out runs that fill in the gaps between these larger, planned out runs

to apply Geoff's "planned out runs" to hacks like me, i'll think of them as "the weekend long run".  those who really get into longer runs seem to all agree there is a strange state of being you achieve while being that person out there performing that run.  the struggles you go through, the ups and the downs, they read like an epic, and you are always the hero.  the scenery binds vividly with your state of mind and state of well being and perhaps inspires or even deflates you.  the daily run, in contrast, is often not entirely prepared for, done after a hard day's work, done against all rational indicators that one should go out there and do it.  and it doesn't always work out great.  but i think Geoff captures is correctly when he says:

Often when I set out the door on "the daily run" I have no idea where or for how long I am going to go. Every now and then I do an entire one of these runs and never really come to a place of feeling like I want to be running at that time. More often than not though, I get a few minutes into one of these runs and things start to fade away. I stop thinking about the story I read while I was drinking my coffee in the morning. I stop thinking about the emails I sent just before heading out the door. I stop thinking about what I'm going to cook for dinner. Eventually my mind comes really present and I begin to really feel my body, and really notice the things going on in the mountains around me. Sometimes this only takes a few minutes, and other times it takes hours, but almost without fail, no matter how much I think that I didn't want to go out for a run on any particular day, I end up coming back home at the end of the run feeling nourished by the fact that I stepped out the door 

Geoff also goes on to win some very serious races.  i, on the other hand, do not.  i don't NEED to run for any training purposes, other than to meet my own personal goals, which, if i miss them, will not exactly change the quality of my life.  what would change the quality of my life is if i didn't run...  (and, i can really reiterate that having been injured for the better part of the past two months, as it reverberates LOUDLY in my thick head).

so what's the point of racing?   it doesn't nourish me, it doesn't keep me sane, it isn't my goal, not what i run for.  but i do it, repeatedly.  here are some reasons:

1. i think it's pretty common for people who are feeling badly on a run to look ahead (or think ahead on known routes) to a particular point in the run and say, "i may be feeling badly now, but i should be feeling better by the time i get to X".  maybe it's the end of a climb, or a section where you don't feel as badly going slower...  who knows.  but these little markers, if i can just get to the next X, really help me push through the hard parts of a run.  in a bigger picture, races are like these X points on a run.  i just want to keep my running consistent until i get to race X so i can feel satisfied with my performance...  and so on and so forth.

2. i was reading this post from the blog As Far AS My Feet Will Take Me and it really struck a chord.  the post is ended with a brilliant summary including the following quote:

"The obsession with running is really an obsession with the potential for more and more life." - George Sheehan

even though i'm getting older, i still believe i can go faster and go farther.  i don't need to.  as i said before, that's not what it's about...  but i certainly do feel good when i break a PR or run a longer distance than i ever have before.  the race results give me a measuring stick.  it's about believing in myself....  maybe believing myself to be that hero in the epic run i was describing earlier.  setting goals and achieving them... and it's about so much more than the run.... that confidence permeates every aspect of my life.  it magnifies my ability to enjoy it all, humbles me to the point of understanding my place and not having to worry about all those pre-occupations that prevent us from taking in the moment.  more and more and more and more....  

3. it's not all soul-searching and flowers though...  i'm pretty damn competitive.  despite the fact that todd is faster and joel can run father i still yearn to beat them...  badly.  in a completely  un-mean-spirited way, they drive me to achieve more, and i strive to achieve more, so i can have a chance, well, to beat them!  especially when we make a wager, as we have done on the 2012 Vermont City Marathon.

4. and, really, the most practical reason is just so i can explain it to people who can find no other way to understand why i run so much.  "ahhhh, you're training!!" as if the race justifies it all.  hey, the amount of time it has saved me from explaining why i run so much...  has probably amounted to more running, making that answer completely worth it!

How to Pick Your Next Race

Having just completed a 50K, I'm not concerned about whether I'll have the endurance to get through the Burlington Marathon.  But at this point, I know I don't have the speed to keep up with my buddies.  So, while they struggle through week after week of long runs, I need to work on getting faster.

What better way to push myself than to sign up for a race?  It seems like every week, there are a dozen races in the DC area, so the only challenge is choosing between them.  Here is how I rank the factors:

1. Date.  Obviously, if I am out of town on a given days, I'm not going to run.  Luckily, most days work.  This factor isn't going to help me narrow things down too much.
2. Location.  If possible, I'd prefer to get to a race by public transportation.  In any case, I'm willing to commute only about 30 minutes.  Any further, and my time is better spent going to the local park.
3. Course.  I'd love a run along a river, or in the woods, or through a historic neighborhood.  Back and forth along a new stretch of highway that is about to be opened up?  Not so much.
4. Entry Fee.  Most races around here seem to start at around $30.  For me, that's about $10 too much.  Unless it's a very long race, or a must-do race, my budget is low.
5. Cause.  I'd prefer the proceeds go for a good cause.  Which doesn't necessarily mean a big name.  A great race might be a fundraiser for a small, but important, community institution.  As long as the institution isn't the local rich kid's school, which doesn't really need my dollars.  
6. Reputation.  I trust other runners!  If there's good buzz about the race, I'll head in that direction. 
7. Size.  All things being equal, I'd prefer to keep it to around 1,000 entrants or fewer.  Big races seem like big hassles.
8. Distance.  All the way down here at #8?  Yup.  It's not too important to me if it's a 5K or a 10-miler.  I'll be middle of the pack, regardless.  As long as I'm having fun. 
9. Swag.  For a short, local race, I really could not care less whether I bring home a medal, a t-shirt, or nothing at all.  

Are there any considerations that I have missed?  What is most important to you?

Related posts:

Race Report: 2011 New River Trail 50k

race night

Canal Diggers 2011

Race Report: 2011 New River Trail 50k

Saturday, October 8, was the fourth running of the New River Trail 50k.  I could not have asked for a better event for my first ever race.  Thank you to race director Annette Bednosky, as well as to the host of unnamed volunteers who made this a wonderful event.  Thanks also to my running-blogging buddies, Eric and Todd, who believed I could do it, and thank you especially to my awesome wife, Maya, for her support as I trained and who gave amazing support and encouragement at the race itself.

We drove down from Washington, DC on Friday.  Despite leaving  a little before 3 PM, the holiday weekend traffic was already stop-and-go until we cleared the Metro area.  We took a quick dinner break along the way, and finally made it to the Hampton Inn in Galax by 9:30 PM.  I set out my food and my clothes for the morning, then went straight to bed.

We woke up at 6 AM, had a quick breakfast, and were out the door by 7 AM.  The short trip from Galax to the race site in Fries (pronounced "Freez") took longer because of the fog, and by the time I got there most of the runners were checked in and lining up at the porta-potties.  I picked up my number (246) and my bag of goodies (thanks, Montrail)  and headed back to the car.  It was cold!

Before I knew it, Annette was announcing that it was five minutes to race time.  I climbed up the hill and lined up toward the back, shivering and joking with everyone else.  Then, it was "three, two, one, blastoff" and away we went.

I think there were around 120 runners registered, but around 100 actually running, so even though we were on a dirt track, the group thinned out pretty quickly.  The temperature, in the upper forties, was perfect for running, and the river to the right of us and the farms on the left were shrouded in the light fog.  I ran for the first six miles with Leaf Erickson, who has a wonderful spirit and as we swapped stories the first hour flew by.  Before we knew it, there was the first aid station.

After a quick pit stop (I had definitely over-hydrated that morning) I caught back up to Leaf and we wished each other well as I pressed along faster.  Our pace, about 10:30 had been great for warming up, but now I wanted to push forward and see what I could do.  I ran at about a 9:30 pace for the next four miles, where I saw another runner stopped by the side of the trail. I slowed up to ask if he was OK, and he said he was stretching. This was Shahin Hadian the owner of Fleet Feet Sports in Knoxville, TN.  Shahin is a triathlete and a coach, and he knows more about running equipment and about foot and leg ailments than anyone I've met.  We chatted about shoes and about compression gear and the like, and he gave me some great recommendations for dealing with a blister on middle left toe, and then I took off again.

Soon I was approaching the second aid station -- 12 miles -- and there was Maya in her blue sweatshirt waiting to give me a high five and cheer me on.  I took about ten seconds to refill my water bottle, and then I kept at it, slowing to just under a 10:00 pace.  Although this course is said to be mostly flat, there was a gradual rise in elevation during this stretch, and on top of that, the sun was out and it was getting into the 50's.  Once I reached the 13 mile point, I started to see the fastest runners on their way back from the turnaround point.  Without fail, every one of them had a wave or an encouraging word.

At the turnaround, there was Maya again, with another high five!  Several runners were stopped here, grabbing supplies from their drop bags, but I had chosen not to bring a drop bag, so after a volunteer had quickly refilled my bottle, I made the turnaround and kept going.  Going downhill, I was again running in the 9:30s, and I did my best to give encouragement to all those who were still on their way to turnaround.

Before long I was at the fourth aid station.  I was craving salt, so I grabbed some potato chips, and since my stomach was feeling a little uneasy, so I asked the volunteers for half gatorade, half water.  Maya said that I was only person she saw making this request, and she thought it was funny.

This would be the last time I would see her until the finish line because the first/fifth aid station is not accessible by car.  For the most part, there weren't other runners within my sight either.  I knew that I had been running faster than I had hoped, but I was also starting to tire.  As I ran through the dark old railway tunnel, my vision exploded in stars.  Then a little further on, the fifth aid station, only 5.33 miles to go.

My Garmin at this point was still showing I had over six miles to go.  As I learned later on, runners' Garmins were all over the place regarding the number of miles covered.  After the race, one mentioned that his car's GPS also had had problems this morning.  I guess the satellites were bonkers, because the course is certified by USATF as 50k.

In any case, it sure was nice to discover that I had less distance left than I thought, because soon the wheels came off.  My legs still felt OK, but suddenly, my stomach felt violently nauseous -- it wanted no more part of this race.  I waited for it to settle with a combination of slow running and fast walking, but let's be honest, it was mostly walking.  Even in my somewhat dazed state, I couldn't help marveling at the beautiful scenery, which looked completely new in the bright afternoon sunlight.

With about two miles left to go, I was finally able to get moving again.  I jogged slowly until I could see the finish line, down at the bottom of the hill.  The clock was showing 5 hours and 19 minutes and I don't know how many seconds, and I told myself that damn, I was going to finish under 5:20, so I took off at a sprint.  If my Garmin is to be believed, I managed a 6:30 pace during that downhill sprint, finishing with a fist pump at 5:19:56.

Maya refilled my water bottle while I sat down and caught my breath, and it was the sweetest water I've tasted for a long time.  Then I made my way over to the river where I stripped off my shoes and socks and sat down in the icy water.  I soaked for a little while and chatted with other runners, then made my way back to the car so that we could start the drive back to DC.  I said good-bye to Shahin, who was chatting with some other runners from Tennessee, and we started the drive back.

My legs didn't start stiffening up until we were near DC.  They are sore as hell this morning.  I also have a strange, but not serious, pain in the back of my right knee, but other than that and the usual black toenails, I don't seem to have suffered any injuries.  :)



 Thank you again to everyone who supported me and who prepared and made this wonderful event possible!  I hope to see you all again soon!

race night

this is the third time this year i've been signed up to race with todd.  the first time was march.  i pulled my hamstring in february and sat that one out.  the next one was in june.  high fever, chills, sore throat and body aches left me making a last minute (literally) decision to bag it.  this time, it's the calf...  but i'm racing.  it won't be the rain nor thunder nor lightening nor legs that stop me from running tonight....

(maybe i need to stop signing up for races with todd?)

anyway, looking forward to getting a run in, as i haven't done that much at all lately.  going to try out a compression sleeve.  nothing else has worked, so maybe this will?  a report will follow.

regardless, i look forward to seeing todd hammer through yet another blistering race and look forward to getting some miles underfoot (for a chance), even if i keep it slow and sure.  i'm rooting for todd to take a top 5 (top 3 even) in the AG!  (the better he does, the higher up he'll be in the beer line!)

Canal Diggers 2011

The results from the Canal Diggers 2011 5K are in. Here's what I was able to accomplish:

Time: 19:24.7
Pace: 6:16
Place: 21
Division: 6 out of 100

I'm obviously pretty happy with the results. Might try doing some speed work before my next 5K to see if I can't improve on that. I'd say that I'd see if I couldn't improve in my division - the top three finishers make some money after all! - but the 5th place 30-39 year old finished in 17:45. That's faster than I was able to run a 5K when I was 17, when I ran a 17:58 in the VT XC State Championship. Yikes!

My first race!

With the dog days of summer upon us, I decided to take Todd's advice and sign up for my first ever race as a way of staying motivated.

So, on October 8th, I'm headed down to Virginia to run the New River Trail. I know that I'm not going to be competitive, but it's going to be fun!