Posts Tagged ‘Race Reports’

Valentine Run

The Valentine Run 4-miler is always an exciting event because it marks the official start of the running season. The schedule here is “Spring-loaded,” so to speak. Between March and June you can find a race to run almost every weekend. The Valentine Run gives you a good indication of how much work you still have to do.

The weather was threatening, but the wind and rain stayed away for the duration of the race. I had an encouraging training week, which was fortunate because the previous week had been lousy.

One of the great features of any short race organized by Capital Road Race Management is the presence of a half-mile marker. It’s essential for those of us without a Garmin. I don’t know how many times I’ve reached the one-mile marker in a race only to discover my pace is all wrong, but it’s too late to do anything about it.

I hit the half-mile mark at 3:49, which pleased me, but I knew I wouldn’t maintain it for the whole race. I started dialing it back, and completed the first mile at 7:49, which meant I ran the second half-mile right on my target pace.

Miles 2 and 3 were identical 8:03 paces, and I was running comfortably, so I started to pick it up again. I was thrilled to have a really strong sprint at the end, completing the final mile in 7:46.

Finish: 31:41
216th out of 764
15th out of 30 in age group

I’ve whined about my age group before, but it still bears mentioning that the top 9 guys in the 50-54 age group all averaged sub-6:45 splits.

All in all, better than I expected, but with a way to go before I’m happy. I felt even better on Sunday, running a 1:26 ten-miler, even through the wind, rain and, at one point, hail.

Four weeks until my next race, the Shamrock’n Half Marathon on March 15.

Run to Feed the Hungry

The numbers were staggering for a short race in a medium-sized city, but the newspaper is reporting some 28,000 people turned out for Sacramento’s Run to Feed the Hungry yesterday. The chip system recorded 15,000 runners and walkers in the 5k and nearly 5,800 in the 10k. To give you an idea of the mass of humanity out there, the 10k winner finished at about the same time as the last walker crossed the starting line.

Mr. Gobbles, pictured here, finished 4th in the 5k.

Despite all the hype and the press coverage, it somehow got lost that we even had an Olympian in the race. Magdalena Lewy Boulet, one of the three women to represent the U.S. in the marathon in Beijing, finished second in the 10k.

My own race was decent. I ran a 49:55, more than 3 minutes slower than the PR I set in last year’s race, but consistent with my times over the last few weeks. It was good enough for 683rd in the field of 5,782 and 42nd of 244 in my age group.

Run for a Safe Haven

This morning I participated in the Run for a Safe Haven, a 5k to benefit My Sister’s House, which provides shelter and services for battered women and children in the local Asian and Pacific Islander community.

The weather was cool and windless, so it was a perfect day for a race. I ran a 24:20 – which is about two minutes off my PR, but good enough for 51st place and 7th in my age group. I did trounce Sacramento mayor-elect Kevin Johnson, who finished in 31:32.

Johnson will make a great mayor, but the Kings really need a point guard. I wonder if he’d consider moonlighting.

My Best Worst Race

For the second year in a row, my marathon training and Boston aspirations were sidelined by peroneal tendonitis.

I was pretty bummed about it, especially because my wife and I planned a week’s vacation around the Maui Half Marathon. OK, so we were still going to enjoy the sun, sand and surf, but there was a bit of a letdown.

I brought my running gear with me in the hope I could get a couple of miles in, but the race was definitely out—until Wednesday night. For some insane reason, I decided I desperately wanted my finisher’s t-shirt and medal. My leg was coming around, and the only thing holding me back was that I was woefully unprepared to go 13.1 miles.

I laid my plan before the lovely Mrs. A. and, God bless her, she didn’t go through the obvious list of reasons why it was a really bad idea. Instead, she encouraged me to go ahead, as long as I was careful.

Don’t try this at home, but here is my five-week half-marathon training program:

Week 1: Run one day for 7 miles
Week 2: Run three days, 2, 3 and 4 miles, for a total of 9 miles
Week 3: Run one day for 4 miles
Week 4: Run one day for 2 miles
Week 5: Run 4 miles on Thursday and 4 miles on Friday, run half-marathon on Sunday

The race began promptly at 5:30 a.m., to avoid the worst of the tropical heat, but it was still in the mid-70s at the start. I began at the absolute back of the pack, to avoid any temptation to go out too fast. And for the first time in a long time, I ran a race completely anxiety-free. It’s actually liberating to know you’re going to run a lousy time. I waved to the crowd and the volunteers. I admired the gorgeous scenery. I joked with other runners.

It was great.

Considering my lack of training, I figured I would be fortunate to run to the halfway mark, and I would walk/jog the way back. But I reached the turnaround point in good spirits and with no discomfort, so I kept going.

The heat was beginning to take its toll, however. I ran to mile 10 in 1:40, walked for a mile while slathering myself with ice-cold sponges, and resumed a slow trot.

The last two miles were eye-opening for me, since most runners around me were really struggling, including the guy just in front of me who spewed a geyser of Gatorade. I, on the other hand, was having a blast. I “sprinted” the last half-mile and finished in 2:17:35 – my worst half-marathon by 13 seconds.

It occurred to me at the finish that the appeal of distance running is doing something you can’t even picture yourself doing. And while I know I’m capable of much better, I was just as happy with that 2:17 as I would have been with a 1:39.

Don’t wait for an injury to try a race for fun. You can hammer a fast pace the other 364 days.

Marathon Race Report: 490 B.C.

The following is excerpted from a document recently discovered during an archaeological dig near Athens. It appears to be a running log with the name Pheidippides scrawled upon it. I translate it here from the ancient Greek, invoking the Muse as I do so.

August 31, 490 BC:

Sunny, with a little bit of wind. Did my final long run today. Was a bit of a struggle. These new Nike sandals don’t have much arch support. To add to my misery, I got an olive pit stuck in them at about mile 13. On the plus side, these FigShots are just the boost I need during my run.

It’s pretty hard to nail down my pace because my sundial doesn’t have a minute or second hand. But I’m pretty sure I can finish sub-noon.

Still can’t figure out what “BC” means and why we’re counting years backwards.

September 18, 490 BC:

Thank Zeus the tapering is almost over. I’ve got a lot of, uh, excess energy and Penelope says she won’t sleep with me unless I wear a Trojan. But it ruins the mood for me. Those guys are pretty heavy and the armor chafes.

September 22, 490 BC:

Race Day! Big crowd at the start - about 10,000 local dudes and boatloads of guys in long white singlets with names like Datis and Artaphernes. There was a lot of confusion, particularly since all the bibs had Greek numerals on them. This seemed to be a big problem for the boat people and they started to act up. There was a lot of jostling going on and it was getting ugly when everyone started running in all different directions, screaming at the top of their lungs. I figured the race had started and headed out.

The course was poorly marked and it didn’t look like they blocked off traffic on the E75. I almost got nailed by one of those chariots with the blades on the wheel hubs. And the aid stations were pathetic. Whose idea was it to hand out fennel juice?

As we got to the hills I noticed I had a pretty big lead on the rest of the field. In fact, I couldn’t see them at all. The coeds from Nea Ionia Women’s College were out in force, but they weren’t nearly as pretty as I had heard they were.

Anyway, my quads were burning pretty bad as I headed down the home stretch into Athens. I was starting to wish I had entered the Persian 200 Meter Dash for the Boats instead. I thought the finish line was at the Parthenon, but then I realized it hadn’t been built yet! (Damn backwards calendar again.) I saw a group of old guys in togas so I sprinted toward them. Running my last tired strides I yelled, “Victory, victory!”

I collapsed from a stomach cramp right at the end (fennel juice and FigShots, not a good combination), but I’m pretty happy with the finish line painting. Those thieves want five tetradrachma for a copy!

Maybe I should pay up. Who else will remember this race after today?