Posts Tagged ‘Race Reports’

Apocalypse Now: Global Warming, My Ass! 6.66 Mile Run

I went forth from my home to compete in the virtual Global Warming, My Ass! 6.66 Mile Run at a place called in the Hebrew tongue, Armageddon.

There were arrayed the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every free man. The number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands.

Behind me, someone spoke, and I turned to see the voice that spoke with me.

His head and his hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were as a flame of fire; and his feet like unto fine brass, as though they burned in a furnace, and his voice as the sound of many waters.

He said unto me, “Razz causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to run the distance of the Beast. Here is wisdom: Let him that hath understanding count the distance of the Beast, for it is the number of six hundred threescore and six.”

He continued, “If any man fail to complete the distance of the Beast, he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone, and have no rest day or night.”

The trumpets of heaven sounded, and the race commenced.

Mile 1 – 9:08

I began last, though I said unto the runners of the earth to beware: “I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee.”

Mile 2 – 8:48

I came upon the hindmost group, and they had hair as the hair of women, and their teeth were as the teeth of lions. And they had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots with many horses running to battle.

And they had tails like unto scorpions, and there were stingers in their tails; and their power was to hurt men five months.

Mile 3 – 8:38

Though they were swift of foot, I swept pass them, and they shall bewail and lament when they shall see the smoke of their burning.

One woe is past; and behold, there come two more woes hereafter.

Mile 4 – 8:37

Then past the next slowest racers I ran. The first being was like a lion, and the second being like a calf, and the third being had the face of a man, and the fourth being was like a flying eagle. And each of the four living beings had six wings about him, and they were full of eyes within; and they rested not day and night.

Mile 5 – 8:35

As I overtook them they gnawed their tongues from pain. They were scorched with great heat, and they blasphemed the name of God.

Mile 6 – 8:39

The second woe is past: and behold, the third woe cometh quickly.

I swept into the lead. I was weary, and I looked behind, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

Mile 6.66 – 5:25 (8:13 pace)

And lo! I recalled the Word: “Hold fast that which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.”

They could not overtake me, and they blasphemed because of their pains and their sores, and repented not of their deeds.

Finish: 57:54 (8:42 pace)

And the Beast was taken, and cast alive into a lake of fire, burning with brimstone.

I heard the voice of harpers harping with their harps.

And I saw, as it were, a sea of glass mingled with fire, and them that had gotten the victory over the beast standing on the sea of glass and having the harps of God, along with the merchandise of gold, and silver, and precious stones, and of pearls; and fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet; all scented wood, all manner of vessels of ivory and most precious wood, and of brass, and iron, and marble; and cinnamon, and perfumes, and ointments, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat; and cattle, and sheep, and horses, and chariots; and slaves, and the souls of men.

And the voice from heaven said unto me: “Write the things which thou hast seen. Write, for these words are true and faithful.”

Race for the Arts 5k

This was my first time running the Race for the Arts 5k. I have avoided it in the past because it’s held in the late afternoon, in late August, and I hate being late. But I wanted to see if I could improve my ranking in the Buzz Oates Run Sac Race Series and this was the last short race on the schedule that I could do.

It was 93 degrees at start time – I cut my usual 10 minute warmup short because I was drenched in sweat after a quarter-mile. I tried not to let the weather psych me out, but I wasn’t expecting anything special. There was a pretty good crowd (481 finishers) but that is far short of what you usually see at a 5k around here.

There was a starting mat, so I was comfortably ensconced in the first third of the pack when the horn went off. And of course, since I was already warm, I started off like a maniac, passing a lot of runners right off the bat. Even while I was doing it, I began to worry about the last half-mile. Nonetheless, I maintained the pace I was on.

Mile 1 – 7:21

That’s an awesome first mile split for me, and it usually predicts disaster for the latter stages. I settled into a steady pace behind two young guys and one white-haired old-timer who matched them stride for stride. I distracted myself by watching how they were doing.

Mile 2 – 7:26

I slowed a little, but I couldn’t hear anyone behind me and the three guys in front of me were starting to flag. I heard the old-timer say to one of the young guys, “Let’s pull each other along.” Their fatigue encouraged me a lot, and I took the opportunity to pick up the pace and pass with authority. I spent the rest of the next mile trying to ensure they didn’t come back on me. Strangely enough, I hardly noticed the heat.

Mile 3 – 7:21

A PR was out of the question now, but I was determined to come in sub-23. There were two older runners just in front of me at the final turn (where the hell do they get the speed?) and I put the pedal down and managed to nose them out at the finish.

Mile 3.1 – 0:42

Finish – 22:50
91st out of 481
7th out of 27 in 50-54 age group

That time is 22 seconds off my PR, but it constitutes a 2 minute improvement in 3 months, and a 46 second improvement in a month. I absolutely credit the track work. I’m kicking myself for waiting all these years to find a track for such crucial workouts.

This was a real confidence boost and now I’m looking forward to the longer races this fall.

I Owe You One, High School Track Girl

Holy cow.

As I mentioned yesterday, I decided on the spur of the moment to attend the Pacific Association 2009 Summer All Comers Series track meet. The flyer welcomed all ages and skill levels, first timers, old timers, little ones, big ones, speedsters and turtles. So I was expecting a cross-section of the local running community.

Paid my $5, which entitled me to enter any or all events, but I didn’t sign the lengthy pole vault waiver, so that was out. I was given bib #100, which is how old I felt once I entered the stadium.

There were a few hundred people already present, families mostly, but about 95% of the competitors were high school kids. Yikes. It was a pleasant atmosphere, with little kids playing in the long jump pit, notwithstanding the announcement of “no alcohol, no drugs, and no weapons.” What?! What’s an all comers track meet without a good drunken knife fight over drugs? Might as well ban foul language, rock and roll, and fartleks.

I got my warmup in while watching the only other old men present take a whack at the field events. The high jump was particularly entertaining.

Anyway, no one had any idea about the schedule of events, and there was a lot of meandering… which, for all I know, might have been an event – the 400 meter meander. It took a loooooooooooooooooooooong time for the organizers to get their feces coagulated, to coin a phrase. The first event, the 4×100 relay, got underway 45 minutes late. After the first heat, the PA announcer finally told us the schedule: next was the 1500 meters, then the hurdle events, then the sprint events, and finally the 3000 meters.

At the leisurely pace things were moving, I knew setting up and taking down the hurdles were going to take forever. I figured I’d be running the 3000 meters alone, sometime after midnight. So I made the fateful decision, about two minutes before post time, to enter the 1500 meter race.

I learned that high school kids see the sprint distances as high prestige, and most weren’t too interested in the 1500. I was one of five entrants: two young guys, one older guy (but younger than me) and one high school girl in her team track gear.

We got instructions from the starter, got set, and crack!

No, not the drug. Not even my back. It was the gun, and we were off. Of course, I was more off than the others. I may be the only 1500 meter runner in history to hit his stopwatch first, then start running. After 100 meters, the two young guys already had about a 30 meter lead, the older guy was about three steps ahead of me, and the girl was just behind my left shoulder. And I knew I was doomed.

I’ve never run a 1500 meter or mile race in my life. My best one-mile training run in the last 27 years was a 6:36.19, about two years ago. I was going completely balls-out, damn the torpedos, bat out of hell as fast as I could, the three guys were all getting further and further away, and the footfalls of High School Track Girl were thundering in my ears.

I hit the 300 meter mark at 1:03.24 – the last time I would have the energy to spare to look at my watch. If I had been able to do the math in my head at the time, I would have quit right there. It’s an effin’ 5:37 mile pace! And I was losing ground! And I still had 1200 meters to go! And I can’t run that fast to begin with! And I’m running out of exclamation points!

Well, as Clarence DeMar once said, “Run like hell and get the agony over with.” I kept going as fast as I could, concentrating only on keeping upright because I didn’t want to stumble and kill myself in front of all those people. At the 800 meter mark, a race official was helpfully calling out split times, not that they mattered much to me at this point. The front-runners were out of sight and the older guy was about 50 meters in front. As I passed, the guy said “3:03.” I couldn’t quite believe it, since I had struggled last week just running 3:36s for 800 meters. What was better, though, was I heard him yell “3:18″ as High School Track Girl passed him.

I had a 15 second lead with 700 meters to go. Fifteen seconds in front of the ignominy of last place. For the rest of the race, which seemed to last dogs’ years, all I cared about was staying out of last place. I came down the straightaway like I was in quicksand, and spotted the race official holding up one finger and then pointing at me. I knew this meant: a) we don’t have a bell and you have one lap to go; or b) you look as though you have one minute left to live.

At this point I had complete tunnel vision and tunnel hearing. I had no idea what my splits were, I couldn’t see more than five feet in front of me, and I couldn’t tell where High School Track Girl was. I kept chugging, huffing and puffing my way around the final turn, and looked up. I could see the older guy just finishing, 100 meters in front of me, as I exited the turn. The two young guys, I assume, were already at the snack bar, enjoying nachos and chili.

I then swiveled my head and my body halfway around, expecting to see High School Track Girl coming on like Allyson Felix. Instead, I saw she was still about halfway through the final turn. I had about a 50 meter lead with 100 meters to go. All I had to do was avoi—-

I turned back around JUST IN TIME to avoid some kid who inadvertently strayed off the infield into lane 1. A quick sidestep and I was clear. I would have breathed a sigh of relief except I could hardly breathe. I crossed the finish line and hit my stopwatch. Good thing, too, because the way things were going it’ll be 2012 before I get my official time.

Unofficially, it was a 6:08.92 – which translates out to a 6:35 mile pace. I don’t know what High School Track Girl’s time was, or even if she finished. For all I know, she was doing the 1500 as a warm-up, spotted some friends in the stands, and headed over to them rather than bother overtaking the struggling old man. I’d like to think that was the case, because otherwise she spent the night in tears because her friends were razzing her about getting dusted by some old fart. Whatever happened, her sacrifice kept me from trailing the field like a lost kindergartener, and I’ll always be grateful.

I was well past the puke threshold, reaching that physiological limbo where you absolutely are going to hurl, but can’t because you’re unable to take a deep enough breath to expel your lunch. My lungs were burning and it took a full 20 minutes before I was coherent enough to drink some water and cool down. It won’t surprise you to know that they were still setting up the hurdles when I got out of there.

I admit that was a lot of melodrama for a mere six minutes of exertion at a pace that was hardly eye-watering, but for me it encapsulated the last few miles of a marathon in sprint form. I’m glad I did it, and it’s a race I’ll remember for a very long time.

I’ll be damned before I do it again, though.

Shriners Summer Solstice 8k Race Report

It was a beautiful day for the Shriners Summer Solstice 8k, which benefits the Shriners Hospital for Children here in Sacramento. My PR for this distance is 37:52, but I’m not in that kind of shape yet. I just wanted to beat last year’s time of 40:54, run under very hot conditions.

Before the race we had the national anthem and a sun dance performed by a troupe dressed as Aztecs. Afterward, the bottom 10 percent of the finishers had their still-beating hearts cut from their bodies and thrown down the steps of the parking garage. OK, there really wasn’t any human sacrifice, but there must be some motivation because the fastest runners in the area always turn out for this one.

There was no timing mat at the start, which meant I lost a few seconds, but I paced it perfectly.

Mile 1 – 8:16
Mile 2 – 8:09
Mile 3 – 8:05
Mile 4 – 8:03

After the first two miles, I found myself steadily passing other runners and feeling better as I went along. I hit the four-mile mark with a cumulative time of 32:33, which meant I would easily beat last year’s time. I thought to myself, “Hmmm, a 7:26 would bring me in under 40 minutes.”

I should have discarded that thought immediately, but what the hell. I started pushing the pace, and passing people in the last mile is really a motivator to keep pushing. There was a “400 meters to go” sign and it made me think of my track workouts so I started turning it over as fast as I could. I passed 7 or 8 runners in that last quarter-mile.

I could see the clock ticking down but I came up short. My last mile was a 7:35, giving me an unofficial finish of 40:08.

The real appeal of this 8k is the post-race strawberry pancakes. Yum!

So I’ve made pretty good progress in the last four weeks, but I still have a way to go to reach my best times. I’ve got a 15k race two weeks from today. Anything under 1:20 would be acceptable, but I’d really like a sub 1:17, which would put me right on my target marathon pace.

Nutrition Fuels Fitness 10k Race Report

This morning I ran the Nutrition Fuels Fitness 10k along with 369 other racers (another 500 ran the 5k).

I’m pretty proud of this one because it was almost a DNS. I took three days off from running because of tendinitis in my right lower leg. When I got out there this morning it was very sore and stiff.  It took me 30 minutes to loosen up and I almost packed it in. Once the race started, however, it felt fine.

The weather was warm and sunny, but very windy – a direct headwind between miles 5 and 6. I had pretty steady splits the whole way, which is unusual for me, but I spent so much time trying to warm up it probably helped me start faster than I normally would.

I had a lot of carbs this morning, so I felt strong the entire race, and even had some in the tank for a sprint at the end when a 13-year-old boy tried to pass me. I geezered him by 0.2 seconds, only to discover later he beat me on chip time. Oh well. It felt really good anyway.

Mile 1 – 8:14

Mile 2 – 8:17

Mile 3 – 8:00

Mile 4 – 8:06

Mile 5 – 8:12

Mile 6 – 8:05

.2 – 1:34

Finish – 50:28

117th out of 370
14th out of 20 in age group (ouch!)

The good news is I’m getting progressively faster, which finally puts my best times in sight, if still far away. The bad news is I’ll probably need to take two steps back because my leg soreness won’t disappear without a lot more rest. I’m controlling the inflammation and pain with Advil, but it’s not a cure. I’ll just have to play it by ear.

Official Results

Chip time – 1:56:56

1071st out of 3603 finishers (29.7 percentile)

60th out of 130 in age group (46.2 percentile)

Blue Diamond was a sponsor of the race, so I’ve got six packs of different-flavored almonds to munch on for the rest of the week.

It’s funny how your expectations change. I remember the first time I broke two hours in a half-marathon – it was the America’s Finest City Half-Marathon in San Diego in 2005. I ran a 1:57:12 and I was so happy I told everybody. Three and a half years later, I’ve beaten that time despite a late-race meltdown and all I can think about is what I did wrong.

A Tale of Two Races: Shamrock’n Half-Marathon Report

I’ve never had a race quite like this one before, even though today’s Shamrock’n Half-Marathon was my 11th half-marathon. It was wonderful and awful, greatly encouraging and terribly disappointing, well-executed and gone horribly astray, all in the same race.

I made myself a huge bowl of gemelli bolognese last night, and went to bed early. The race didn’t start until 8 a.m. at Raley Field, the home of our minor league baseball team, but they were expecting more than 4,000 runners and there are only two roads that lead to the stadium. I got up at 5 a.m., went through my usual routine, had coffee plus a bagel with peanut butter, and off I went.

I got there around 6:30, and snoozed in the car until 7:30. I ate a small box of raisins, and I was carrying a 24 ounce bottle of diluted Gatorade and a single Power Gel for the race. I thought I was pretty well fueled, but those who have been reading me for a while will notice I didn’t have any “bad” sugars. Looked like I had plenty of carbs in the tank, though.

The race started on time and though the sky was overcast and threatening, the temperature was perfect and it did not rain. The organizers provided pacers for every 10 minutes from 1:30 to 2:30. I went out slow and steady, and had the 1:50 guy in my sights. I figured anything between 1:49 and 1:52 was right about where I should be at this stage.

The course was mostly flat, and despite all the turns, there were only a couple that were problematic. A hairpin turn with a large field  can be pretty dangerous if you’re not careful. I nearly got bowled over by a guy in a kilt.

To make a long story a little shorter, I hit mile 9 at 1:15:43 – a pace of 8:24. That pace was better than any of the long training runs I did for the race. Through the entire distance, I felt good, with no problems at all. It looked like I had a sub-1:50 in the bag.

“Hitting the wall” means you have depleted your energy, and of course I’ve hit the wall before, but I always got that “low fuel” light first, where my pace deteriorates over a couple of miles before falling apart. No warning this time. I went from feeling fine to losing all desire to run in the space of a half-mile.

I had been sipping my Gatorade every mile, and took my Power Gel at mile 7, but today it didn’t make a bit of difference. I slowed considerably, and despite the help from a training partner trying to urge me on, I started walking. For the last four miles, I would walk for two minutes, run until I couldn’t stand it anymore, then repeat the cycle.

It helped that Raley Field came into view about 3/4-mile from the end, so I sucked it up and kept running. My coach spotted me about 1/4 mile from the end and asked, “How are you feeling?” I shouted, “Awful!” and laughed. The final stretch of the race brings you into the stadium through an opening in the center field fence, and you run around the warning track down the third base side, while they show you on the Jumbotron. It’s pretty cool.

No official time yet, but I stopped my watch at 1:57:01 – an average 8:55 pace, which isn’t awful, but it means it took me 41:18 to cover that last 4.1 miles – a 10:04 pace. How’s that for positive splits?

I was more bummed running the last few miles than I was afterwards. The ammonia stink made it obvious I was in ketosis, despite all the food, gel and Gatorade. I felt a lot better once I had a couple of Fig Newtons in me. It was pretty easy to put it in perspective. Clearly, I wasn’t prepared to run a half-marathon, and I’m still wrestling with whether I should eat what actually works, or what’s supposed to work, and how much. Fueling is a big problem for me.

At the same time, I ran a perfectly fine nine miles, and if the race had ended there, or even at 10 miles, I would have been thrilled with how it turned out.

I’ve got another half-marathon scheduled in six weeks, but maybe I should concentrate on shorter distances until I can comfortably run my target pace. Next up is the Nutrition Fuels Fitness 10k in two weeks. How timely.