I've had a busy few weeks but I have been able to sneak in a couple of rides and runs here and there. With surprisingly good results, even.
First was the Royal Riders Century. This was a last minute entry to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute and Roy High Athletics. Two great causes, and I prefer to register for events that give back to something I believe in. And I believe in cancer research. You might say with my life. Quite amazingly, this was my first organized century ever. Normally it's just me out there with only me to talk to and my face in the wind for a hundred miles or so. But considering my condition this year, which is poor, I thought the distance would be a challenge and if I got into any trouble I could draft behind Mike. Mike has been training to ride RAGBRAI (Registers Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) with the Air Force team, and his wife said he could have a new bike if he rolled 4k on his odometer this year. He's been riding like a fiend, devouring miles like a madman. Plus he was bringing along Angie, another first time century rider. I thought it would be a good ride to do. And I was right.
Long story short, it started out as the three of us with Mike and I trading pulls and keeping Angie out of the wind and on our wheels. As the miles wore on, our trio swelled as riders started to struggle with the distance and found the pedestrian 16 mph speed I pulled the group along at to be mostly accommodating to their sense of survival. Mike looked out for Angie and I sat on the front, where I like it. We shepherded riders along. They left aid stations when we did. Other riders came and went out the back. Michael nearly choked out a guy for trying to ride two up with him on a busy road, and I nearly choked the same guy out for riding in front of me like he was trying to take a pull and help out, but riding at 18 mph. A pace the majority in the group couldn't hold. WTF? I helped out a lady who had been dropped by her husband after his ego pulled them past us and then left her in no woman's land. He attacked something and left her in limbo, behind him and in front of me struggling to catch up. I bridged up and asked her if she just wanted to ride in the group. He finally faded and came back to us under the relentless pressure of the crushing 14.5 mph I was dragging the group at. Anyway, 6:15 later I was in and glad of it because my butt was starting to get sore. I guess that is how centuries unfold. You ride with your group and people come and go. People irritate you. I doubt this will be my last organized century.
Next was the Morgan Marathon. A new event, work was a sponsor and I won a comp entry. So, current fitness aside, I decided that since it was free, I was going to get my no-moneys worth and signed up for the full 26.2 marathon miles. I had two months to parlay marginal fitness into becoming marathon-worthy. With huge projects at work, a late spring that delayed everything and a week driving cross country, getting ready was a true challenge. Which I failed. However, I was buoyed by the confidence from the century bike ride. I knew that, at a reasonable pace, I would be okay and finish in maybe 4:30 without problems. I'd be fine.
I totally PR'd this run. That's right, personal record. Now I have only run a pair of marathons, but considering I ran the downhill Ogden Marathon in 3:53 and the ribbon candy-profile Morgan Marathon in 3:52, I am extremely pleased. And I did it with no blisters, lost toenails or gut wrenching stomach issues I am normally plagued with. Other than sore legs and feet I am none the worse for wear.
I doubt I'll ever run Ogden again, but Morgan probably. And I might even train the next time. But the problem with run training is that it isn't on a bike. And I miss biking, almost so much I could stop running and swimming, sell my road and cross bikes and just ride and race my mountain bike. I won't, but being a jack of all trades ain't easy and I'll take a PR anytime.
Showing posts with label Race Report. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Race Report. Show all posts
August 1, 2011
April 1, 2011
I’m Here!
Since I have posted nothing of note since last fall, I’m going to skip the laziness and sloth of last winter and jump right into the very cold and wet “spring” in Utah. First up is a brief Canyondlands Half Marathon race report, followed by my first ride of twenty eleven. Before I begin, here is a transcript of an actual conversation I had recently.
Them: “Did I see you out running the other day?”
Moi: “Probably.”
Them: “What are you training for?”
Moi: “Nothing.”
Them: “Are you trying to lose weight?”
Moi: “No.”
Them: “What are you running for then?”
Moi: “I like it. I’ve run off and on since junior high.”
(Silence.)
Well, I thought it was funny. On with the show.
Canyonlands Half Marathon Race Report
It sucked. The hardest and slowest half marathon time of my life. I ran Vikingman faster with bad knees and 56 miles of bike before it. Headwind. It’s my own fault. I just didn’t get enough miles in. The wet winter kept me indoors. Being extra busy at work kept me from getting in my lunchtime runs. Excuses. Lazy. NOtivation.
Still, I’m philosophical about the experience and learned a few things: I was harshly reminded that you can’t hide from 13 miles of running. The minimum is just that, barely enough to get you by. And lastly, I like being in shape way better than not.
The weekend was fun though, I did some damage to my liver and ate very well. Katie and Kevin are awesome hosts. And it’s in Moab. What more can you want? Less wind maybe…
Back in the Saddle – First Ride of Twenty-Eleven
I made it before April. Barely. The first bike ride of twenty-eleven. Glad it’s out of the way. In typical FROTY (first ride of the year) fashion, it was more work than fun. My knees protested, ass started to hurt. I pedaled squares on the way back as I battled mounting fatigue, a stiff headwind and rolling hills that forced me to slow to a crawl. In short, it was g-l-o-r-i-ous, glorious. Better if you read it like singing the song by Them.
Yep, glorious. Just to be on the road again is a good thing. I didn’t even mind dodging old ladies u-turning on me and going deaf from Harley’s roaring by with nary a baffle in their exhaust pipes. What did bother me was that out of the dozen or so other cyclists I saw, only one waved back at me. Thank you, incredibly bolt-upright rider man for returning my salutation. Even the runners I saw offered a friendly nod my way. Not my fellow cyclists though. Maybe it was because I wasn’t wearing my official The Bike Shoppe team kit? Perhaps it was because I was on my non-carbon fiber cyclocross bike shod with 32s (which make Morgan County roads near bliss I must add)? Is it possible my gangly early-season form made me appear to be a new rider and thus less than those vastly superior specimens? Whatever it was, it was lame. Be friendly to your fellows.
It was also good because even though it’s taken 20 years of cycling, and with my age, a likely reduction in testosterone but I’m now smart enough to know that the first few rides of the season shouldn’t be exuberant, mouth-foaming death marches. I rode for an hour and a half and finished the ride without feeling shelled. Not normal for the FROTY. It makes me excited to get back out again, this time on the mountain bike. But I need to do some work on that, which I’ll have some time to do this weekend, while it snows again. And I get over this cold I now have.
November 10, 2010
What A Waste...
It's been a good year.
After finishing one of my best seasons of competition ever, it was time to turn my focus to cyclocross. It seemed natural, and I can usually do okay in the races. After all, I have a nice cyclocross bike. I have some technical skills that most roadies don't possess. I run more than most cyclists. But mostly, I was stoked to race cross because for the first time in a long time I knew I would have all of my fitness right at the end of the season with Vikingman the first of September and XTERRA the latter part. Most guys are getting pretty worn out by fall, and cross is something they can do for fun. I'd be doing it for fun also, but hopefully fresher than most.
The theory was coming together. And nicely.
My plan was to do all of the Ogden-area races and maybe slide down to SLC for one or two at Wheeler Farm. Total of maybe 6-7 races. Race Master 35 C since I am an old man. Have fun and mix it up.
The first Ogden race was at the Weber Fairgrounds. After a slow start my momentum built and I started passing lots of other guys until I found myself in the second group of five to bridge up to three leaders. They weren't really going anywhere very fast, so rather than keep losing time I took a flier in an attempt to either up the tempo in the chase group, bring out the stronger guys to help bridge or at least shed a couple of the weaker guys. Only one guy went with me, and he had just about enough to hang on to me, until he dropped off.
So I was in this limbo land. Stuck between the leading pair and the remnants of the chase group that was sort of reforming. I just kept drilling it to stay away and was gaining slowly on the leaders by bunnyhopping a couple of the log barriers and generally riding like a madman. By the last lap, however, I was paying for my efforts, but hanging on to my position.
With just a couple of turns to go until the finish, I hopped over the final barrier and saw one of the lead pair struggling with his chain. He'd put his bike down too hard and dropped his chain. I flew by and ended up crossing (sic) the line in second place, about five seconds off the winner.
It was pretty clear that my fitness plan had worked. I had the fitness to actually compete. Until... October.
Goddamn October is the toughest month of the year. It has surpassed even December. Work is insane. Eight birthdays including Wifey's, Smarty Pant's and Ma's. Plus a couple of bad weather days, encroaching darkness, and a rainy trip to Moab. It was a perfect storm of events that led to next to no riding, running or swimming for a month.
A month with only a handful of runs and rides. I don't know what I have left in the tank at this point. I'm going to try and get out to race this weekend. The weather is supposed to be cool and the rain should have the course in ideal shape. And it's in Ogden.
After finishing one of my best seasons of competition ever, it was time to turn my focus to cyclocross. It seemed natural, and I can usually do okay in the races. After all, I have a nice cyclocross bike. I have some technical skills that most roadies don't possess. I run more than most cyclists. But mostly, I was stoked to race cross because for the first time in a long time I knew I would have all of my fitness right at the end of the season with Vikingman the first of September and XTERRA the latter part. Most guys are getting pretty worn out by fall, and cross is something they can do for fun. I'd be doing it for fun also, but hopefully fresher than most.
The theory was coming together. And nicely.
My plan was to do all of the Ogden-area races and maybe slide down to SLC for one or two at Wheeler Farm. Total of maybe 6-7 races. Race Master 35 C since I am an old man. Have fun and mix it up.
The first Ogden race was at the Weber Fairgrounds. After a slow start my momentum built and I started passing lots of other guys until I found myself in the second group of five to bridge up to three leaders. They weren't really going anywhere very fast, so rather than keep losing time I took a flier in an attempt to either up the tempo in the chase group, bring out the stronger guys to help bridge or at least shed a couple of the weaker guys. Only one guy went with me, and he had just about enough to hang on to me, until he dropped off.
So I was in this limbo land. Stuck between the leading pair and the remnants of the chase group that was sort of reforming. I just kept drilling it to stay away and was gaining slowly on the leaders by bunnyhopping a couple of the log barriers and generally riding like a madman. By the last lap, however, I was paying for my efforts, but hanging on to my position.
With just a couple of turns to go until the finish, I hopped over the final barrier and saw one of the lead pair struggling with his chain. He'd put his bike down too hard and dropped his chain. I flew by and ended up crossing (sic) the line in second place, about five seconds off the winner.
It was pretty clear that my fitness plan had worked. I had the fitness to actually compete. Until... October.
Goddamn October is the toughest month of the year. It has surpassed even December. Work is insane. Eight birthdays including Wifey's, Smarty Pant's and Ma's. Plus a couple of bad weather days, encroaching darkness, and a rainy trip to Moab. It was a perfect storm of events that led to next to no riding, running or swimming for a month.
A month with only a handful of runs and rides. I don't know what I have left in the tank at this point. I'm going to try and get out to race this weekend. The weather is supposed to be cool and the rain should have the course in ideal shape. And it's in Ogden.
September 28, 2010
Race Report - XTERRA Utah!
Okay. I only did the XTERRA short course. Work has been nuttier than squirrel poop so I've been missing all sorts of workouts since Vikingman. I've been tired, also. Instead of stressing about the workouts I was missing because of work and recovery I tried a new approach consisting of rest and flexibility to prepare for XTERRA. It worked out pretty well.
Except the swimming part.
The flexibility idea was borne of necessity. I've been trying to stretch frequently, at least every other day, to loosen my legs and avoid the knee problems from Vikingman. The rest part of the plan was mostly what I told myself I was doing because I was going into work early and couldn't get to the pool and missing lunchtime runs because of location shoots. Fortunately, I did just enough and don't think I lost much fitness.
Except the swimming part.
The nice thing about this race is the ability to register the day before. You know what the weather will be like. What the water temp will be. Things that might preclude one from entering an event, especially if it isn't a goal race. My original plan was to race the long course and get a little redemption from bailing in 2007. As the race got closer the unknown knee, lack of mountain bike training and a real lack of desire to beat myself for the extra time all played out. With 10 minutes to spare I entered the short course.
Another great thing about this race is the start time. 9:40 am. HOLLA! I was able to get up at my regular time. Poop at my regular time. Leave the house at my regular time. There was still plenty of time to stand around and chat while shoehorning my bike onto a rack. Yeah, it was crowded when I get there. See, I do things in reverse at this race. Rather than set up my t1 at the lake, then drive to Snowbasin to set up my T2 and then take a shuttle back to the lake, I drive to Snowbasin, park the truck, set up my T2 and then ride my bike down to the lake to set up T1. I'm a rebel ... and I get a nice warm up.
Again, I was surprisingly calm (for me) before the start. I was even trying to help other people get themselves in order. The pros started at 9, and the long course racers started at 9:20. I moved down about 9:30, wetsuit on, and got straight into the water. No hesitation. The water was about 65°, which is just right for wetsuit swimming.
I went to the far left, just to avoid some of the scrum. At the start, there were about 350-400 people in my wave, plus those still in the water from earlier waves so it was a little crowded. Instead of swimming a triangle, I swam more of a lazy circle. I just didn't want any part of the mess. Of course, it slowed my swim time. Or my lack of swimming was responsible. But my swim was a distant 19:42 (106th), well off my pace at Vikingman. But it was still good to do it and not freak out.
Transition was also pretty slow. I really need to work on them. I'm not sure where the time goes, but it is literally the quickest time that goes by in my life. It wasn't without it's drama either. while tightening up my right shoe the buckle on my Sidi broke. I chucked it into my bag and tucked the strap into my shoe and got out of there.
I have no idea how many people I passed on the bike, but it was a LOT. I know I got passed a few times and caught all of them but maybe 2. I had a really solid ride and felt really good still heading into T2. Really uneventful. 1:21.
T2 was much faster than T1. I was in and out under 2 minutes. This run sucks. It is up and up and a little break and up and up and then straight the hell down. And I ran the whole thing for a 22:53.
Overall I ended up 19th out of 308 and 4th AG. Total time 2.04.24. I'm pleased. I'm not sure what is going to happen next year. But LOTOJA might be on the horizon, and that will pretty much own my training time. But maybe the long course XTERRA. I'll have the endurance for it...
Except the swimming part.
The flexibility idea was borne of necessity. I've been trying to stretch frequently, at least every other day, to loosen my legs and avoid the knee problems from Vikingman. The rest part of the plan was mostly what I told myself I was doing because I was going into work early and couldn't get to the pool and missing lunchtime runs because of location shoots. Fortunately, I did just enough and don't think I lost much fitness.
Except the swimming part.
The nice thing about this race is the ability to register the day before. You know what the weather will be like. What the water temp will be. Things that might preclude one from entering an event, especially if it isn't a goal race. My original plan was to race the long course and get a little redemption from bailing in 2007. As the race got closer the unknown knee, lack of mountain bike training and a real lack of desire to beat myself for the extra time all played out. With 10 minutes to spare I entered the short course.
Another great thing about this race is the start time. 9:40 am. HOLLA! I was able to get up at my regular time. Poop at my regular time. Leave the house at my regular time. There was still plenty of time to stand around and chat while shoehorning my bike onto a rack. Yeah, it was crowded when I get there. See, I do things in reverse at this race. Rather than set up my t1 at the lake, then drive to Snowbasin to set up my T2 and then take a shuttle back to the lake, I drive to Snowbasin, park the truck, set up my T2 and then ride my bike down to the lake to set up T1. I'm a rebel ... and I get a nice warm up.
Again, I was surprisingly calm (for me) before the start. I was even trying to help other people get themselves in order. The pros started at 9, and the long course racers started at 9:20. I moved down about 9:30, wetsuit on, and got straight into the water. No hesitation. The water was about 65°, which is just right for wetsuit swimming.
I went to the far left, just to avoid some of the scrum. At the start, there were about 350-400 people in my wave, plus those still in the water from earlier waves so it was a little crowded. Instead of swimming a triangle, I swam more of a lazy circle. I just didn't want any part of the mess. Of course, it slowed my swim time. Or my lack of swimming was responsible. But my swim was a distant 19:42 (106th), well off my pace at Vikingman. But it was still good to do it and not freak out.
Transition was also pretty slow. I really need to work on them. I'm not sure where the time goes, but it is literally the quickest time that goes by in my life. It wasn't without it's drama either. while tightening up my right shoe the buckle on my Sidi broke. I chucked it into my bag and tucked the strap into my shoe and got out of there.
I have no idea how many people I passed on the bike, but it was a LOT. I know I got passed a few times and caught all of them but maybe 2. I had a really solid ride and felt really good still heading into T2. Really uneventful. 1:21.
T2 was much faster than T1. I was in and out under 2 minutes. This run sucks. It is up and up and a little break and up and up and then straight the hell down. And I ran the whole thing for a 22:53.
Overall I ended up 19th out of 308 and 4th AG. Total time 2.04.24. I'm pleased. I'm not sure what is going to happen next year. But LOTOJA might be on the horizon, and that will pretty much own my training time. But maybe the long course XTERRA. I'll have the endurance for it...
September 27, 2010
VIKINGMAN! - The Run.
Off the bike and into T2, I was feeling good. Surprisingly good. I had a few things on my mind, mostly blister prevention. In T2 I changed to dry socks and slathered Blister Shield onto my still numb-from-cold toes and took off. My time was about 4 minutes. It was about here that I realized that while my Garmin 305 was running, I had forgot to put it into multisport mode and things would be weird when looking at the data. Alas, it certainly wasn't a day ender.
On course my legs adapted fast to running. More brick workouts and a tips like standing and pedaling the last mile of the bike course to pull blood from my quads and put it into my hamstrings must have helped because I had zero of the usual leg heaviness I usually experience. Sticking to my bike nutrition plan meant I was well hydrated and ready to run. My heart rate was where it needed to be, my legs felt fine and I was still moving past people. I settled into about an 8 minute mile average.
Then it started.
About mile 4 I noticed that my knees were aching. Not hurting, but aching. It was like this for about a mile and then it mostly ceased. I ran up the bridge over the Snake river at a sub-8 mile and passed a couple of people. I flew through the park, looked at the cute picture Smarty Pants had drawn for me, and started the second half of the run feeling awesome.
Then it continued.
At about mile 7 my right knee really started to hurt. Really hurt. By mile 8 I was limping and really slowing down. I was gonna finish, but the 8 minute miles were over. It was a good time to finally take that poop break I'd been needing and thought some rest would help my knee. Now, I have a storied history with GI issues and racing. Without going into detail, it's bad and can last for days. Not this time I am happy to say. Just a good ol' fashioned crap. The one my body wasn't prepared to do before the race. But enough about poop. . . The break did not help my knee. But I was going to finish and thus began the longest 5.5 miles of my running life.
Not only did my knee hurt like hell, but this section of the course was an out an back. Literally down a seemingly endless false flat two-mile long straight road to a turnaround and back. And it sucked balls. I could see the guys in ahead of me, some looking much more worn out than I was. But I couldn't go any faster than the 10-12 minute miles I was hobbling out. I got passed by one guy. But I passed three more struggling with stomach cramps - my usual nemesis. Still, it was a bitch knowing that I was so close.
Eventually I finished. Below are my numbers.
5:31:38.237 - Total
32:02.844 - Swim
6:48.143 - T1
2:50:18.365 - Bike
4:25.205 - T2
1:58:03.680 - Run
5 of 10 AG
19 of 73 OA
Despite the knee issue, I have nothing to complain about and there is no use lamenting what could have been. I achieved every goal I had for the race. I finished the swim under challenging conditions under 40 minutes, Sub-6 overall time, Sub-3 bike, Sub-2 run. I paced well. I ate and drank for nearly spot-on nutrition. And I learned a lot. Because of the bad knee luck I am stretching more and that will have nothing but positive benefits in the future.
What's next? Well, I'm writing this post two days after I solid XTERRA Sprint race. But long term I am not sure. An Ironman is the next logical step. I also want to ride LOTOJA again. They sort of go together, but I am not sure I could do them both unless I did an IM early in the year and, living in Utah, that's tough to do unless you really like training indoors (I don't). But an IM is a life goal that I'll get around to. Maybe not 2011. But maybe 2012, you know, before the world ends.
On course my legs adapted fast to running. More brick workouts and a tips like standing and pedaling the last mile of the bike course to pull blood from my quads and put it into my hamstrings must have helped because I had zero of the usual leg heaviness I usually experience. Sticking to my bike nutrition plan meant I was well hydrated and ready to run. My heart rate was where it needed to be, my legs felt fine and I was still moving past people. I settled into about an 8 minute mile average.
Then it started.
About mile 4 I noticed that my knees were aching. Not hurting, but aching. It was like this for about a mile and then it mostly ceased. I ran up the bridge over the Snake river at a sub-8 mile and passed a couple of people. I flew through the park, looked at the cute picture Smarty Pants had drawn for me, and started the second half of the run feeling awesome.
Then it continued.
At about mile 7 my right knee really started to hurt. Really hurt. By mile 8 I was limping and really slowing down. I was gonna finish, but the 8 minute miles were over. It was a good time to finally take that poop break I'd been needing and thought some rest would help my knee. Now, I have a storied history with GI issues and racing. Without going into detail, it's bad and can last for days. Not this time I am happy to say. Just a good ol' fashioned crap. The one my body wasn't prepared to do before the race. But enough about poop. . . The break did not help my knee. But I was going to finish and thus began the longest 5.5 miles of my running life.
Not only did my knee hurt like hell, but this section of the course was an out an back. Literally down a seemingly endless false flat two-mile long straight road to a turnaround and back. And it sucked balls. I could see the guys in ahead of me, some looking much more worn out than I was. But I couldn't go any faster than the 10-12 minute miles I was hobbling out. I got passed by one guy. But I passed three more struggling with stomach cramps - my usual nemesis. Still, it was a bitch knowing that I was so close.
Eventually I finished. Below are my numbers.5:31:38.237 - Total
32:02.844 - Swim
6:48.143 - T1
2:50:18.365 - Bike
4:25.205 - T2
1:58:03.680 - Run
5 of 10 AG
19 of 73 OA
Despite the knee issue, I have nothing to complain about and there is no use lamenting what could have been. I achieved every goal I had for the race. I finished the swim under challenging conditions under 40 minutes, Sub-6 overall time, Sub-3 bike, Sub-2 run. I paced well. I ate and drank for nearly spot-on nutrition. And I learned a lot. Because of the bad knee luck I am stretching more and that will have nothing but positive benefits in the future.
What's next? Well, I'm writing this post two days after I solid XTERRA Sprint race. But long term I am not sure. An Ironman is the next logical step. I also want to ride LOTOJA again. They sort of go together, but I am not sure I could do them both unless I did an IM early in the year and, living in Utah, that's tough to do unless you really like training indoors (I don't). But an IM is a life goal that I'll get around to. Maybe not 2011. But maybe 2012, you know, before the world ends.
September 17, 2010
Vikingman! - The Bike
2:50. Not bad at all.
Honestly, that's all that I can say about the bike ride. Nothing of note occurred. I drank a bottle of HEED and sucked down a gel every lap. I got passed three times. Those guys were faster and had way cooler bikes and wheels and shit than I do. They also had on aero helmets that made them resemble the creatures in the Alien movies and made them just look a LOT faster than me.
I'm okay that I got passed. I passed at least one of them on the run. I think two. And that was with the calamity that was forthcoming.
T2 went much faster than T1 at about 3 minutes. In and out baby.
I know, lame post. But nothing happened. I rode well. My back got a little sore. Nothing out of the ordinary, though I'd say it was a better than ordinary ride. It was cold though. Being wet, my toes went numb immediately and stayed that way until about mile 2 of the run. My fingers too went numb, painfully numb, but thawed by lap 2 of 4 on the bike. I couldn't think of many songs to sing. But I did keep thinking that I couldn't believe that I still had a half marathon to run. Which is next time.
September 14, 2010
Race Report: Vikingman!
And it's over. At last. And I made it.
Saturday, September 11 was the Vikingman Triathlon in Burley, Idaho. This was my goal for the year. Not necessarily Vikingman, but a half-iron distance triathlon. All that I can say is that I met every goal I had in the race. Granted, it was a small field, but I still made it. The weather was ideal, though a little chilly. I wish this race report was more exciting, but for once, not much went down. I'm breaking the report into parts so the posts won't be ponderously long. Here it goes...
The Fun Run
The day before the race, a one-mile fun run was held. Wifey and Smarty Pants took on the challenge while I took photos and stared at the cold river. Smarty Pants ran the whole mile, other than a 10 second break. Not bad for a four year old. Chip off the sorta old block...
The Swim
It is well known that I dislike the water. I hate cold water. And I get terrified by dark water. I even wear clear lens goggles on sunny days to keep things bright. So the idea of swimming in murky 60° water before the sun even comes up had me going. Unlike other years, I've spent a fair amount of time open water swimming this summer and felt more prepared than ever for a 1.2 mile swim, even with the challenges of cold and dark.
I didn't sleep much. Just couldn't relax. Unlike the usual anxiety about swimming, I was more anxious about the cold and just wanted to get rolling. I was in and out of sleep until the alarm sounded at 4:30.
I set up transition in the dark, except for my handy clip-on flashlight. A good idea if you know you will be setting up in the dark. Then Wifey and Smarty Pants dropped me off at the swim start. I wandered down and waited in the 42° air for about 15 minutes until they finally let us into the water. It actually felt warm compared to the concrete boat ramp! I stuck my face in the water and started trying to blow bubbles to get used to the cold. It wasn't working well. I'd stick my face in the water and gasp. Before I was ready, the order to start was given and we were off.
It was a relief to go, like an anchor was dropped. I took off and had a tough time keeping my face in the water, but I settled down after a few strokes and found a rhythm. I also noticed that A LOT of other swimmers weren't handling the cold as well as I was. Bobbing heads were all around. I had one guy stop right in front of me and I swam into him. We apologized and I kept going. I whacked a couple of others as I swam by them and finally decided to move out farther into the river to get away from the others and make it easier to sight the buoys. The steam coming off the river made it tough to see. I finally started looking higher and found the bridge not far from the end of the swim. It gave me an idea of the amount of swimming that remained and let me pick up the pace the closer I got.
When I finally reached the dock. I pulled myself up. I didn't want help, I was afraid they'd pull me up too fast and I'd get dizzy. Wifey and Smarty were waiting and told me I was one of the first out of the water. SHOCKING! I was about 20th.
Other than one small moment of panic that I can't explain and some major brain freeze, the swim was great. Mat to mat time was 32.02. A little high considering the before and after time lag. But even that time is fantastic for me.
My transition was less than ideal. Sunscreen. Arm warmers. Chatting to Wifey. It was a long transition. 6:48. I needed about half that. Ultimately it ended up not mattering, but I need to fix that.
Next time is the bike!
Saturday, September 11 was the Vikingman Triathlon in Burley, Idaho. This was my goal for the year. Not necessarily Vikingman, but a half-iron distance triathlon. All that I can say is that I met every goal I had in the race. Granted, it was a small field, but I still made it. The weather was ideal, though a little chilly. I wish this race report was more exciting, but for once, not much went down. I'm breaking the report into parts so the posts won't be ponderously long. Here it goes...
The Fun Run
The day before the race, a one-mile fun run was held. Wifey and Smarty Pants took on the challenge while I took photos and stared at the cold river. Smarty Pants ran the whole mile, other than a 10 second break. Not bad for a four year old. Chip off the sorta old block...
The Swim
It is well known that I dislike the water. I hate cold water. And I get terrified by dark water. I even wear clear lens goggles on sunny days to keep things bright. So the idea of swimming in murky 60° water before the sun even comes up had me going. Unlike other years, I've spent a fair amount of time open water swimming this summer and felt more prepared than ever for a 1.2 mile swim, even with the challenges of cold and dark.
I didn't sleep much. Just couldn't relax. Unlike the usual anxiety about swimming, I was more anxious about the cold and just wanted to get rolling. I was in and out of sleep until the alarm sounded at 4:30.
I set up transition in the dark, except for my handy clip-on flashlight. A good idea if you know you will be setting up in the dark. Then Wifey and Smarty Pants dropped me off at the swim start. I wandered down and waited in the 42° air for about 15 minutes until they finally let us into the water. It actually felt warm compared to the concrete boat ramp! I stuck my face in the water and started trying to blow bubbles to get used to the cold. It wasn't working well. I'd stick my face in the water and gasp. Before I was ready, the order to start was given and we were off.
It was a relief to go, like an anchor was dropped. I took off and had a tough time keeping my face in the water, but I settled down after a few strokes and found a rhythm. I also noticed that A LOT of other swimmers weren't handling the cold as well as I was. Bobbing heads were all around. I had one guy stop right in front of me and I swam into him. We apologized and I kept going. I whacked a couple of others as I swam by them and finally decided to move out farther into the river to get away from the others and make it easier to sight the buoys. The steam coming off the river made it tough to see. I finally started looking higher and found the bridge not far from the end of the swim. It gave me an idea of the amount of swimming that remained and let me pick up the pace the closer I got.
When I finally reached the dock. I pulled myself up. I didn't want help, I was afraid they'd pull me up too fast and I'd get dizzy. Wifey and Smarty were waiting and told me I was one of the first out of the water. SHOCKING! I was about 20th.
Other than one small moment of panic that I can't explain and some major brain freeze, the swim was great. Mat to mat time was 32.02. A little high considering the before and after time lag. But even that time is fantastic for me.
My transition was less than ideal. Sunscreen. Arm warmers. Chatting to Wifey. It was a long transition. 6:48. I needed about half that. Ultimately it ended up not mattering, but I need to fix that.
Next time is the bike!
October 14, 2009
'Cross Race #2
Two races. Two flats. Cyclocross race #2 was uneventful in the sense that my race lasted all of 5 minutes when I pulled out with yet another flat. Not sure how this happened. After fixing the first flat, not once, but twice, I put in a new tube. Problem solved, right? Wrong. The tire held air all week, until race day. Dig this.
I air up the tires to 50 psi in the back of the truck because, you know, I don't want to risk a flat. Next, I carry the bike across the parking lot to the course. Then, I set the bike down on the starting line and throw a leg over the top tube and the tire is almost flat.
WHAT THE FU@K?!
Now before you think I am a dumbass for not checking the tire for thorns, I did. Multiple times. The tube had a very small failure where the valve stem is glued to the tube. Just bad luck. Not the first or last bad luck I had on Saturday, either. In fact, Saturday pretty much was the shittiest day I've had in about the last 6 months. I digress...
So I rode most of a single lap before pulling out. Again. At least last week I got to do most of the race. And I now have a backyard tubeless setup in place that I am trying out.
- Stan's rim tape to seal the spoke holes
- 4 rubber rim strips to build up the rim bed, 26" size for a tighter fit
- UST valve stems
- Stan's tire sealant
I am hoping to get out to the fairgrounds race course soon to test the tubeless out. I need to make sure the tires don't roll off the rim unexpectedly causing me to die. But so far, so good! I am looking forward to a pinch flat free 45 psi and excellent protection from flats. Crossing fingers.
I air up the tires to 50 psi in the back of the truck because, you know, I don't want to risk a flat. Next, I carry the bike across the parking lot to the course. Then, I set the bike down on the starting line and throw a leg over the top tube and the tire is almost flat.
WHAT THE FU@K?!
Now before you think I am a dumbass for not checking the tire for thorns, I did. Multiple times. The tube had a very small failure where the valve stem is glued to the tube. Just bad luck. Not the first or last bad luck I had on Saturday, either. In fact, Saturday pretty much was the shittiest day I've had in about the last 6 months. I digress...
So I rode most of a single lap before pulling out. Again. At least last week I got to do most of the race. And I now have a backyard tubeless setup in place that I am trying out.
- Stan's rim tape to seal the spoke holes
- 4 rubber rim strips to build up the rim bed, 26" size for a tighter fit
- UST valve stems
- Stan's tire sealant
I am hoping to get out to the fairgrounds race course soon to test the tubeless out. I need to make sure the tires don't roll off the rim unexpectedly causing me to die. But so far, so good! I am looking forward to a pinch flat free 45 psi and excellent protection from flats. Crossing fingers.
September 12, 2009
Jack and Jill Triathlon Race Report - In TECHNICOLOR!
Not really in technicolor. But maybe, if I can pirate a couple of pics, some sort of color. But since I was alone I only took a couple of pics of the "lake" and of my transition area.
The race was in Honeyville and was well organized by the TriUtah folks. There are always a couple of things you'd like improved, but this is one race I'll do again. There is only a sprint distance option, which is fine with me, for now... (ominously typed.)
How'd I do? How'd I feel? I did sorta shitty. I felt almost as shitty doing it. But, I finished another swim. And, ANd, aNd! I cut somewhere between 4-5 minutes off my 750 meter swim time compared to last year at XTERRA. 4-5 effing minutes! I was 24th of 47 out of the water. This is huge for me. Because of that, I can handle how shitty I did overall, which was 7th of 11 in my age group and 21st of 45 overall.
I am pleased with my result. After all, it isn't like I'm doing brick workouts every morning. But without further waste of time. Here's a quick race report.
I arrived about an hour and a half before the start, got marked and had my transition set up with all sorts of time left. The transition was nice, on actual lawn grass! I chilled out in the shade and listened to my ipod. I thought about talking to people, but I'd rather keep my anxiety to myself. With about 15 minutes to start, I started the ordeal of putting on my wetsuit. I debated wearing it because it was a hot day and the water was pretty warm. But figured so many others were going to have the advantage that I should also. Getting into the water I had less than the usual amount of panic which could be attributed to a couple of factors: 1) Increased confidence. 2) Knowing I was in essentially a large swimming pool no deeper than 6 feet. 3) Xanax. Still, I panicked a bit when the water sucked my wetsuit around my chest, but after a minute the suit softened and the feeling drifted away. The water was a little murky, but similar to Pineview.
Like usual, I moved to the rear of the field to keep from having too many people swim over me. Blessedly, the race finally started and I went into sort of a happy place, autopilot mode. Within the first few meters I was smacking into people, but I couldn't see them because the shallow water and silty bottom meant that a lot of debris was being stirred up, making the water opaque and limiting visibility to about my elbow. There were no feet to be found because even though I was hitting them, I couldn't see them. After swimming here, other venues shouldn't be an issue. Unless it's cloudy. Then it would be no visibility in the dark and another story altogether.
At the turnaround I was still feeling good but my forearms were starting to get fatigued. I usually don't experience this, so I tried to relax my arms which helped. Ultimately, I think my wetsuit was pulled up a little far and cutting off circulation. I'll have to get into the water again to see.
I came out of the water, rolled into transition and noticed there were a bunch of bikes still there. A good sign. I dunno if there was any correlation, but I had a tough time getting the sleeves of my wetsuit off my forearms. Finally free, I spent a little too much time wiping my feet and putting on socks. Because I like wearing socks.
On the bike, I took a few minutes to come around and get some blood into my legs. Plus my stomach was feeling a little wonky so I didn't drink a ton. The bike course didn't really suit me either. The rolling terrain is better for powerful riders, which I am not. I don't think I lost much time over the 12 miles. I caught a few riders and didn't get passed. Good enough.
The run was three laps around the lake on hard-packed dirt. I wasn't wearing a timer, but I think my laps were prolly 8:30, 8:00, 7:30. I was feeling pretty good at the end. I guess I should add some random brick workouts into my sporadic, non-triathlon specific training plan.
And that was it. I had finally done a triathlon in 2009. XTERRA is closing in, but I think I'll head to Moab that weekend. I can have a great weekend riding and drinking beer for the price of the registration fee.
The race was in Honeyville and was well organized by the TriUtah folks. There are always a couple of things you'd like improved, but this is one race I'll do again. There is only a sprint distance option, which is fine with me, for now... (ominously typed.)
How'd I do? How'd I feel? I did sorta shitty. I felt almost as shitty doing it. But, I finished another swim. And, ANd, aNd! I cut somewhere between 4-5 minutes off my 750 meter swim time compared to last year at XTERRA. 4-5 effing minutes! I was 24th of 47 out of the water. This is huge for me. Because of that, I can handle how shitty I did overall, which was 7th of 11 in my age group and 21st of 45 overall.
I am pleased with my result. After all, it isn't like I'm doing brick workouts every morning. But without further waste of time. Here's a quick race report.
I arrived about an hour and a half before the start, got marked and had my transition set up with all sorts of time left. The transition was nice, on actual lawn grass! I chilled out in the shade and listened to my ipod. I thought about talking to people, but I'd rather keep my anxiety to myself. With about 15 minutes to start, I started the ordeal of putting on my wetsuit. I debated wearing it because it was a hot day and the water was pretty warm. But figured so many others were going to have the advantage that I should also. Getting into the water I had less than the usual amount of panic which could be attributed to a couple of factors: 1) Increased confidence. 2) Knowing I was in essentially a large swimming pool no deeper than 6 feet. 3) Xanax. Still, I panicked a bit when the water sucked my wetsuit around my chest, but after a minute the suit softened and the feeling drifted away. The water was a little murky, but similar to Pineview.
Like usual, I moved to the rear of the field to keep from having too many people swim over me. Blessedly, the race finally started and I went into sort of a happy place, autopilot mode. Within the first few meters I was smacking into people, but I couldn't see them because the shallow water and silty bottom meant that a lot of debris was being stirred up, making the water opaque and limiting visibility to about my elbow. There were no feet to be found because even though I was hitting them, I couldn't see them. After swimming here, other venues shouldn't be an issue. Unless it's cloudy. Then it would be no visibility in the dark and another story altogether.
At the turnaround I was still feeling good but my forearms were starting to get fatigued. I usually don't experience this, so I tried to relax my arms which helped. Ultimately, I think my wetsuit was pulled up a little far and cutting off circulation. I'll have to get into the water again to see.
I came out of the water, rolled into transition and noticed there were a bunch of bikes still there. A good sign. I dunno if there was any correlation, but I had a tough time getting the sleeves of my wetsuit off my forearms. Finally free, I spent a little too much time wiping my feet and putting on socks. Because I like wearing socks.
On the bike, I took a few minutes to come around and get some blood into my legs. Plus my stomach was feeling a little wonky so I didn't drink a ton. The bike course didn't really suit me either. The rolling terrain is better for powerful riders, which I am not. I don't think I lost much time over the 12 miles. I caught a few riders and didn't get passed. Good enough.
The run was three laps around the lake on hard-packed dirt. I wasn't wearing a timer, but I think my laps were prolly 8:30, 8:00, 7:30. I was feeling pretty good at the end. I guess I should add some random brick workouts into my sporadic, non-triathlon specific training plan.
And that was it. I had finally done a triathlon in 2009. XTERRA is closing in, but I think I'll head to Moab that weekend. I can have a great weekend riding and drinking beer for the price of the registration fee.
August 26, 2009
Mt. Ogden 50k Participation Report
Yeah, the title reads "participation."
If you are hoping to read a harrowing tale of speed, fighting for position, bloody crashes and a testimony to the triumph of the human spirit you'll have to read elsewhere. Because nothing outstanding happened at the inaugural Mt. Ogden 50k at Snowbasin.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Sersly, the days leading up to the race as I attempted to recable the Titus were more exciting. I didn't bring my HRM, so I have no numbers to share even.
I started slow like I always do, which resulted in me being near the rear of the 175-strong field as I approached the singletrack. But knowing my fitness isn't great, I felt that being ultra conservative would be the way to go. So I just got in line on the singletrack and kept up. It was dusty (drama!) but we moved along pretty well for the next 45 minutes of mostly descending terrain. Things broke up some on the climb back up east fork, which I felt good on. Eventually, a 1.75 mile climb brought us back to the start/finish. My first lap, even with traffic was 1:44. I was cool with that.
Did I mention it got really hot, too?
As I started the second lap, the heat became hotter. By the entrance to the first singletrack I could feel my legs weren't right. Though I had been drinking a water/electrolyte mix, I hadn't been drinking enough of it and was starting to feel the effects of dehydration. I started drinking, a lot, and noticed my Camelbak was pretty empty. I planned to drink it dry and refill at the mid-lap aid station. Unfortunately, it was too late to save my legs and I really had to throttle back to keep from cramping. If I had to surge over a rock or a short hill the cramps would start, but they never fully kicked in.
At the mid-lap aid station I filled my Camelbak and started back up east fork. I was caught and passed several times, but made it without cramping. Finally back on the paved road, I was passed a few more times. With 25 yards to the finish I looked back and saw a rider about 100 yards behind me. With 10 feet to the finish I heard a grunt and the dude had buried himself to catch, and pass me. I think my words to him were, "If you want it that fucking bad, you can have it." He took it. Second lap, 1:56. Winning time, 2:36. 2:36! SHIT!
They took my timing chip and my legs finally had enough and started to cramp, forcing me to stand there until I felt okay to move to a shady spot where I could just lay down and rest. Which I did until I remembered the one thing that got me through the last lap.
Big Sky Brewing India Pale Ale.
And I limped back to the truck to get one. Because I'll risk falling down in a parking lot with leg cramps to get an ice-cold beer.
But the race was fun. And even though I no longer possess race legs, I can participate and have "fun" doing silly stuff like this. I need to train my ego to know this is how it's gonna be, that's all.
Or, or... I could train for it next year.
June 1, 2009
Back Blogged and the Ogden Half Marathon
I am so behind on my blog posts, but like many other things it's easy to let blogging slip by. So, instead of having a single long-winded post, I'm going to break it down into a few choice retrospectives. You know, do things the way they should have been done to begin with. Who reads this anyway, right? Topics will include:
· Man Dates
· Gogol Bordello Live in concert
· The real distance to Mantua by bike (Hint: It's far)
· Root canals and festering, rotting nerves in my head
· Swimming, triathlon, tri bikes and if I am even going to do this silly shit anymore
· Whatever else I can think of
But this post is going to be all about the Ogden Half Marathon. Here ya go.
85th overall (1,978 finishers)
73rd male
Time: 01:37:02.84
Pace: 7:32 min./mile
Far from world class speed but I am pretty pleased with myself, considering my sporadic training since Canyonlands.
The race was uneventful until the finish, and I really can't say anything dramatic happened. I really just felt awesome for the most part. About mile 8 I started to feel my lack of endurance with fatigue that I know was caused by the bod wondering how much longer we were going to do this. And my time should have been a little better, but in the course of avoiding too much liquid so I didn't get sloshy, I let myself get dehydrated which caused my calves to start tightening up and my gut to start going south, both about mile 10 (the dreaded Ogden River Parkway). Instead of full blown cramps and having to do the penguin to keep from pooping, I dropped back to an 8:30 pace for two miles before throttling back up for the Grant Avenue finish.
The finish turned out to be pretty funny.
Approaching the finish line some dudes started sprinting and, as so often happens in my life, the dumbass in me took over.
I went with them. I went past them. I was killing them. And then...
SLAP! My left hand got smacked. Which meant someone was very close to me.
This caused one of those fight or flight moments. In a millisecond I saw our legs getting tangled up and both of us slapping the pavement.
So I gave him a little shove to get him away from me. He didn't like that. After, it went a little like this:
Dipshit cromagnon-looking crewcut asshole: "That was uncalled for."
Moi: "You slapped my hand."
Dipshit cromagnon-looking crewcut asshole: "I did not."
Moi: "OH BULLSHIT, FUCKER. I DON'T JUST ARBITRARILY PUSH PEOPLE. YOU HIT MY FUCKING HAND WHICH MEANT THAT YOU WERE WAY TOO CLOSE TO ME SO I GOT YOU AWAY FROM ME!"
Dipshit cromagnon-looking crewcut asshole: " Did not...."
Moi: "Fuck off. You tell yourself what you have to sleep at night."
Race photos confirm he was right on my ass. Right or wrong for me to push? I don't care. I know that I wasn't bloody afterward.
I have never been so sick after a sporting event. I'll spare the sordid details, but it was a SHITTY time. Next time, it's right to the med tent for an IV. That's what Coach Katie told me to do. If there was a bright side to all this, other than my time, was the discovery of Sport Shield. Instead of the usual large blisters, I had only very small ones. I'll take what I can....
Oh, and I am due for some new shoes.
· Man Dates
· Gogol Bordello Live in concert
· The real distance to Mantua by bike (Hint: It's far)
· Root canals and festering, rotting nerves in my head
· Swimming, triathlon, tri bikes and if I am even going to do this silly shit anymore
· Whatever else I can think of
But this post is going to be all about the Ogden Half Marathon. Here ya go.
85th overall (1,978 finishers)
73rd male
Time: 01:37:02.84
Pace: 7:32 min./mile
Far from world class speed but I am pretty pleased with myself, considering my sporadic training since Canyonlands.
The race was uneventful until the finish, and I really can't say anything dramatic happened. I really just felt awesome for the most part. About mile 8 I started to feel my lack of endurance with fatigue that I know was caused by the bod wondering how much longer we were going to do this. And my time should have been a little better, but in the course of avoiding too much liquid so I didn't get sloshy, I let myself get dehydrated which caused my calves to start tightening up and my gut to start going south, both about mile 10 (the dreaded Ogden River Parkway). Instead of full blown cramps and having to do the penguin to keep from pooping, I dropped back to an 8:30 pace for two miles before throttling back up for the Grant Avenue finish.
The finish turned out to be pretty funny.
Approaching the finish line some dudes started sprinting and, as so often happens in my life, the dumbass in me took over.
I went with them. I went past them. I was killing them. And then...
SLAP! My left hand got smacked. Which meant someone was very close to me.
This caused one of those fight or flight moments. In a millisecond I saw our legs getting tangled up and both of us slapping the pavement.
So I gave him a little shove to get him away from me. He didn't like that. After, it went a little like this:
Dipshit cromagnon-looking crewcut asshole: "That was uncalled for."
Moi: "You slapped my hand."
Dipshit cromagnon-looking crewcut asshole: "I did not."
Moi: "OH BULLSHIT, FUCKER. I DON'T JUST ARBITRARILY PUSH PEOPLE. YOU HIT MY FUCKING HAND WHICH MEANT THAT YOU WERE WAY TOO CLOSE TO ME SO I GOT YOU AWAY FROM ME!"
Dipshit cromagnon-looking crewcut asshole: " Did not...."
Moi: "Fuck off. You tell yourself what you have to sleep at night."
Race photos confirm he was right on my ass. Right or wrong for me to push? I don't care. I know that I wasn't bloody afterward.
I have never been so sick after a sporting event. I'll spare the sordid details, but it was a SHITTY time. Next time, it's right to the med tent for an IV. That's what Coach Katie told me to do. If there was a bright side to all this, other than my time, was the discovery of Sport Shield. Instead of the usual large blisters, I had only very small ones. I'll take what I can....
Oh, and I am due for some new shoes.
March 24, 2009
Canyonlands Half Marathon Race Report
I am so happy my first goal run of 2009 is behind me. But I would gladly do it again if I could have stayed in Moab for just a couple more days.
Wifey and I rolled into town last Friday and got settled into the Adobe Abode just on the outskirts of town. I can't tell you how great it is to have access to an actual home, and have friends that are so awesome to let us stay there. I've been to the Abode enough that, in addition to just being a great place to stay, I feel really comfortable there and already miss the quiet and solitude. Dinner at Eddie McStiff's was only adequate. But the beer was purty good so that made up for a weak meal. After dinner I donned my new trail runners - La Sportiva Crosslites - and went out for a short jaunt in the red dirt along a road that follows the base of the cliffs on the east side of town. My shins seemed to be okay, but did get a little sore. I wanted to get good and warmed up to allow a good stretch and ice session. A DVD brought the night to an early end.
Perhaps the best thing about the Canyonlands Half is the 10 o'clock start time. Conversly, the downer is the 8 o'clock bus pick-up. We had about an hour and a half to stand around freezing at the start. Sure, there was coffee and I always wear warm clothes, but then you have to strip down that last half hour. I'm here to tell you, being next to the Colorado River surrounded by towering canyon walls is as cold as it is beautiful. The sun sat tantalizingly close on the opposite side of the river, never quite making it to the runners until after the start.
We were well back in the throng of 5000 runners. About 4 minutes after the official start we finally crossed the timing mat. Not knowing how my body - specifically my shins - were going to hold up I ran with Wifey for the first couple of miles. The first mile is a fairly steep downhill and the shins were taking a beating. I was really dreading the rest of the race. But as the road leveled off, the pain went away and I decided to quicken my pace a little. I bid adieu to Wifey and took off. Soon enough the sun was in my face and things got really warm, really quick.
At first I sped up to about an 8:30 pace, but since I was feeling good, picked it up a little more. Then a little more. And still a little more until I was cruising at a 7:00-7:30 pace. I carried this speed until my average pace fell to about 9:00. I needed to average 9s to come in at my goal time of 2 hours. I found my rhythm was best at an 8:30 pace and pretty much put on the cruise control. I. Felt. Awesome. At least until I missed the second to last water station. There were no cups out and to stop at a water station means getting run the hell over by other runners. So coming out of the canyon I had a glob of not-digesting Power Gel and some dehydration going. That corresponded with a slight rise in the road and a headwind. It got hard for about 2 miles until the last water station where I was able to pound a couple of cups which made me feel immediately better. My chip time showed 1:53:11 and an average pace of 8:33. I ran hard only a couple of times and otherwise felt really good and ran within myself.
We spent Sunday with my in-laws, who braved the Apache Inn to come and watch the race. We went through Arches and did a couple of the arch hikes. It was good to loosen up a little before the drive back to reality.
Now it's time to take a little time off and let the shins heal. It's a good excuse to start biking more, anyway.
Wifey and I rolled into town last Friday and got settled into the Adobe Abode just on the outskirts of town. I can't tell you how great it is to have access to an actual home, and have friends that are so awesome to let us stay there. I've been to the Abode enough that, in addition to just being a great place to stay, I feel really comfortable there and already miss the quiet and solitude. Dinner at Eddie McStiff's was only adequate. But the beer was purty good so that made up for a weak meal. After dinner I donned my new trail runners - La Sportiva Crosslites - and went out for a short jaunt in the red dirt along a road that follows the base of the cliffs on the east side of town. My shins seemed to be okay, but did get a little sore. I wanted to get good and warmed up to allow a good stretch and ice session. A DVD brought the night to an early end.
Perhaps the best thing about the Canyonlands Half is the 10 o'clock start time. Conversly, the downer is the 8 o'clock bus pick-up. We had about an hour and a half to stand around freezing at the start. Sure, there was coffee and I always wear warm clothes, but then you have to strip down that last half hour. I'm here to tell you, being next to the Colorado River surrounded by towering canyon walls is as cold as it is beautiful. The sun sat tantalizingly close on the opposite side of the river, never quite making it to the runners until after the start.
We were well back in the throng of 5000 runners. About 4 minutes after the official start we finally crossed the timing mat. Not knowing how my body - specifically my shins - were going to hold up I ran with Wifey for the first couple of miles. The first mile is a fairly steep downhill and the shins were taking a beating. I was really dreading the rest of the race. But as the road leveled off, the pain went away and I decided to quicken my pace a little. I bid adieu to Wifey and took off. Soon enough the sun was in my face and things got really warm, really quick.
At first I sped up to about an 8:30 pace, but since I was feeling good, picked it up a little more. Then a little more. And still a little more until I was cruising at a 7:00-7:30 pace. I carried this speed until my average pace fell to about 9:00. I needed to average 9s to come in at my goal time of 2 hours. I found my rhythm was best at an 8:30 pace and pretty much put on the cruise control. I. Felt. Awesome. At least until I missed the second to last water station. There were no cups out and to stop at a water station means getting run the hell over by other runners. So coming out of the canyon I had a glob of not-digesting Power Gel and some dehydration going. That corresponded with a slight rise in the road and a headwind. It got hard for about 2 miles until the last water station where I was able to pound a couple of cups which made me feel immediately better. My chip time showed 1:53:11 and an average pace of 8:33. I ran hard only a couple of times and otherwise felt really good and ran within myself.
We spent Sunday with my in-laws, who braved the Apache Inn to come and watch the race. We went through Arches and did a couple of the arch hikes. It was good to loosen up a little before the drive back to reality.
Now it's time to take a little time off and let the shins heal. It's a good excuse to start biking more, anyway.
October 14, 2008
24 and DONE!
Another 24 Hours of Moab is in the books. Another. I should say my last. Of course one should never say never, but I am pretty sure that this was the last quack for the Duckboy.
I had fun, but this can be a miserable bitch of a race. The starting and stopping between laps is difficult. For me the sense of adventure is gone, as this was my 4th time. I guess it was maybe doing the race with friends that made me want to do it again. But seeing each other between rests and meals isn't exactly quality time. I'd rather go out and just ride and enjoy their company. SO! I think this was it. I'll go down and support a team, and maybe even pirate a night lap. But no more mandatory 3am, 35° temperature laps.
In spite of my whining, I admit the race went well. Our official position was 6th out of 34 teams with a time of 16 laps at 1:42:45 PM. Naturally, the 1st place team was in a league of their own. Ahem... Sandbaggers.
Still we did well. The weather held. It dropped into the 30s and the wind was pretty stiff but no rain. No one was injured. Nothing broke (except me). Everyone handled the challenge well and rode their figurative guts out (actually I rode my literal guts out). Especially our 4th rider, Payton. He's an animal. ANIMAL!
I managed two pretty solid laps before getting sick. After my night lap I started eating to refuel and got pretty nauseous. I slept for a while and woke up feeling fine about two hours before my lap. Unfortunately, I wasn't any better after all and even water was making me want to puke. After a 5 minute dry-heave session, I threw in the towel and Payton suited up.
My biggest fear was not having enough food and water left in my system and suffering dehydration and the hunger bonk the entire lap. I don't know what happened. But I looked pretty good in this picture at least.
My day lap was very windy but went pretty well. My night lap was awesome, I was really pleased with my performance. I bobbled a few times, but I hit some gnarly lines and rolled up and down some obstacles I wouldn't have tried in the daylight. Just a really great experience.
The Light & Motion lights worked well.
The Titus was dialed once again.
I didn't feel awesome physically, just a little sluggish, but probably needed a little more intensity in the training, and could have dropped 5 pounds. Guess I'll have to stop lifting weights. Whatever, stop drinking beer might help.
I wish I had a few more pictures to post but the LCD went out on the camera. Now I need a new camera for the next adventure, DISNEYLAND. Time to give back to Wifey and Smarty Pants for some of the training time I've been using.
Cyclocross is this Saturday, also. Better find a babysitter. I swear I am going to train for this one year...
I had fun, but this can be a miserable bitch of a race. The starting and stopping between laps is difficult. For me the sense of adventure is gone, as this was my 4th time. I guess it was maybe doing the race with friends that made me want to do it again. But seeing each other between rests and meals isn't exactly quality time. I'd rather go out and just ride and enjoy their company. SO! I think this was it. I'll go down and support a team, and maybe even pirate a night lap. But no more mandatory 3am, 35° temperature laps.
In spite of my whining, I admit the race went well. Our official position was 6th out of 34 teams with a time of 16 laps at 1:42:45 PM. Naturally, the 1st place team was in a league of their own. Ahem... Sandbaggers.
Still we did well. The weather held. It dropped into the 30s and the wind was pretty stiff but no rain. No one was injured. Nothing broke (except me). Everyone handled the challenge well and rode their figurative guts out (actually I rode my literal guts out). Especially our 4th rider, Payton. He's an animal. ANIMAL!
I managed two pretty solid laps before getting sick. After my night lap I started eating to refuel and got pretty nauseous. I slept for a while and woke up feeling fine about two hours before my lap. Unfortunately, I wasn't any better after all and even water was making me want to puke. After a 5 minute dry-heave session, I threw in the towel and Payton suited up.
My biggest fear was not having enough food and water left in my system and suffering dehydration and the hunger bonk the entire lap. I don't know what happened. But I looked pretty good in this picture at least.
My day lap was very windy but went pretty well. My night lap was awesome, I was really pleased with my performance. I bobbled a few times, but I hit some gnarly lines and rolled up and down some obstacles I wouldn't have tried in the daylight. Just a really great experience.
The Light & Motion lights worked well.
The Titus was dialed once again.
I didn't feel awesome physically, just a little sluggish, but probably needed a little more intensity in the training, and could have dropped 5 pounds. Guess I'll have to stop lifting weights. Whatever, stop drinking beer might help.
I wish I had a few more pictures to post but the LCD went out on the camera. Now I need a new camera for the next adventure, DISNEYLAND. Time to give back to Wifey and Smarty Pants for some of the training time I've been using.
Cyclocross is this Saturday, also. Better find a babysitter. I swear I am going to train for this one year...
August 29, 2008
XTERRA - The Run
At last, part three of the seemingly never ending XTERRA saga. I have to milk it because it will be my one and only triathlon this year. I was going to do the Ogden Valley Tri in September but the stars are not aligning with my wallet. As in, I don't want to drop the money since I'll be riding the 24 Hours of Moab in October and the entry fee for that is staggering enough, and none of these race promoters offer any sort of lubrication when sodomizing you for race entry fees.
I digress...
T2 was much faster than T1. I was in and out in about a minute and a half. Let me tell you about this run. It sucks ass. Yep. Sucks round cottage-cheesy old man ass. Think Michael Douglas' ass when he's givin' what's her name the ol' Rated R in Basic Instinct and that about covers it. The run is exposed, steep and just not a very nice way to transition from the bike as the hills start immediately.
But I was feeling much better than last year at this point as I was able to forgo the last hell climb on the bike and was actually running. Then, out of nowhere, someone throws a body check into me from behind. A blond lady then goes streaking past and I am just about ready to launch into a tirade about how much goddamn trail she needs to run on because we're like, on the frigging ROAD with PLENTY of room to pass without nearly knocking my shit to the ground.
It was Melanie McQuaid, three-time XTERRA World Champion. And she was winning.
So I let her slide. I figured that she had some money to gain if she won. Plus she's purty. So I told her to kill it. Which she did. I doubt she heard me because she might have been out of earshot by the time I could fill my lungs with enough oxygen to speak. I approached her about the incident after the race, which was fun and we had a couple of laughs. She was very apologetic. I assured her that it was cool and I understand that her job is to win races and told her that my job is to give people a hard time.
I'm really not an "oooooohhhh, wow that person is famous" type. No autographs, thank you, I don't want any. We're all people, some of us are just famous. I have to admit that Melanie has always impressed me with her athleticism, but she was also a very nice, approachable person.
Not long after McQuaid beat me down, I was passed by another woman pro, Shonny Vanlandingham. Shonny is a successful ex mountain bike pro that made the jump to XTERRA full-time this year and has done well. This wasn't the first time Shonny has passed me by. She did once several years ago about 4 am at the 24 Hours of Moab.
So the run is an uphill slog. Then there are about two minutes in the trees that is mostly flat. Then back up two hills. On the last hill I saw ex-fellow blogger Iron Benny pushing to the top. Yep, this is the same guy whose lats I was wishing I could hold onto and have him carry me around the swim course. He's got to be at least 6' 5" and his legs are as long as I am tall. I got within about 10 seconds of him on the hill and then he was gooooonnnnnnne on the downhill. My little stumps could not keep up with his strides.
And then it was all over.
Total run time: 24:42
Total race time: 2:08:46
Position: 10th ((I think) 30-34 age group
I'm pleased. Looking back, my times were okay, except the swim which was abysmal (no pun intended). But my goal this year was just to survive the swim. The bike felt good but the time was slow due mainly to my position coming out of T1. My run was hurt a little by the work on the bike. But I think it was the constant surging that wore me out. If I could have had a nice, consistent ride, both the bike and the run would have been better.
I have next year to look forward to now. I will definitely work on my swimming. It isn't so much strength at this point as much as it is technique. I need to get on my bike at least once more a week. My run is evolving. I am still transitioning from a heel striker to having a more efficient mid foot strike. It takes time, I do not want injuries.
Next year I may do the full distance again. Or I may just do the sport and try and beat two hours. As I progress in my sporting life, I am finding I like shorter events better than longer, more endurance-focused events. I like the explosiveness and intensity more than the feeling I am just plodding along, saving my strength for the next hours. I think an Iron-distance race is in me, just to say I've done it and fill the desire. But I think shorter events are for me.
Which brings me to cyclocross season. It starts around the end of September. 45 minutes of VO2 max pleasure. Yes, a hypoxic journey over dirt on skinny tires. Can't wait.
I digress...
T2 was much faster than T1. I was in and out in about a minute and a half. Let me tell you about this run. It sucks ass. Yep. Sucks round cottage-cheesy old man ass. Think Michael Douglas' ass when he's givin' what's her name the ol' Rated R in Basic Instinct and that about covers it. The run is exposed, steep and just not a very nice way to transition from the bike as the hills start immediately.
But I was feeling much better than last year at this point as I was able to forgo the last hell climb on the bike and was actually running. Then, out of nowhere, someone throws a body check into me from behind. A blond lady then goes streaking past and I am just about ready to launch into a tirade about how much goddamn trail she needs to run on because we're like, on the frigging ROAD with PLENTY of room to pass without nearly knocking my shit to the ground.
It was Melanie McQuaid, three-time XTERRA World Champion. And she was winning.
So I let her slide. I figured that she had some money to gain if she won. Plus she's purty. So I told her to kill it. Which she did. I doubt she heard me because she might have been out of earshot by the time I could fill my lungs with enough oxygen to speak. I approached her about the incident after the race, which was fun and we had a couple of laughs. She was very apologetic. I assured her that it was cool and I understand that her job is to win races and told her that my job is to give people a hard time.
I'm really not an "oooooohhhh, wow that person is famous" type. No autographs, thank you, I don't want any. We're all people, some of us are just famous. I have to admit that Melanie has always impressed me with her athleticism, but she was also a very nice, approachable person.
Not long after McQuaid beat me down, I was passed by another woman pro, Shonny Vanlandingham. Shonny is a successful ex mountain bike pro that made the jump to XTERRA full-time this year and has done well. This wasn't the first time Shonny has passed me by. She did once several years ago about 4 am at the 24 Hours of Moab.
So the run is an uphill slog. Then there are about two minutes in the trees that is mostly flat. Then back up two hills. On the last hill I saw ex-fellow blogger Iron Benny pushing to the top. Yep, this is the same guy whose lats I was wishing I could hold onto and have him carry me around the swim course. He's got to be at least 6' 5" and his legs are as long as I am tall. I got within about 10 seconds of him on the hill and then he was gooooonnnnnnne on the downhill. My little stumps could not keep up with his strides.
And then it was all over.
Total run time: 24:42
Total race time: 2:08:46
Position: 10th ((I think) 30-34 age group
I'm pleased. Looking back, my times were okay, except the swim which was abysmal (no pun intended). But my goal this year was just to survive the swim. The bike felt good but the time was slow due mainly to my position coming out of T1. My run was hurt a little by the work on the bike. But I think it was the constant surging that wore me out. If I could have had a nice, consistent ride, both the bike and the run would have been better.
I have next year to look forward to now. I will definitely work on my swimming. It isn't so much strength at this point as much as it is technique. I need to get on my bike at least once more a week. My run is evolving. I am still transitioning from a heel striker to having a more efficient mid foot strike. It takes time, I do not want injuries.
Next year I may do the full distance again. Or I may just do the sport and try and beat two hours. As I progress in my sporting life, I am finding I like shorter events better than longer, more endurance-focused events. I like the explosiveness and intensity more than the feeling I am just plodding along, saving my strength for the next hours. I think an Iron-distance race is in me, just to say I've done it and fill the desire. But I think shorter events are for me.
Which brings me to cyclocross season. It starts around the end of September. 45 minutes of VO2 max pleasure. Yes, a hypoxic journey over dirt on skinny tires. Can't wait.
August 26, 2008
XTERRA - The Bike
At long last I was able to get on my bike. And I had a lot of work to do to bring back the swim champs.
There isn't much to say about it. Nothing funny happened, no great stories to tell. It just rocked. The trail system the race follows has some of the best riding around and I am very familiar with it. Which means I knew that after about 20 minutes the doubletrack becomes singletrack and passing the swim champs becomes much more difficult.
So for that first 20 minutes. I. Drilled. It. As in 80-85% of my max heart rate. And it really didn't ever hurt. It felt great actually, and it shocked me a little because it isn't like I train anymore. I am lucky to ride twice a week.
I have no idea how many riders I passed but the number was high. I spent most of the trail off in the rocks and grass t0 get around people. Then came the singletrack and things ground right to a halt. Almost. It was very slow going. Riders would queue up behind slower riders and as the opportunity arose would pass. I must admit that people were pretty polite about being passed. I'm sorry if I pissed anyone off.
At the top of the climb, just above the lodge at Snowbasin, the trail split for the long course and short course. I was happy to be turning off instead of carrying on to the top of the mountain like last year.
Total bike time plus transition: 1:22:19
Next up: The Run.
There isn't much to say about it. Nothing funny happened, no great stories to tell. It just rocked. The trail system the race follows has some of the best riding around and I am very familiar with it. Which means I knew that after about 20 minutes the doubletrack becomes singletrack and passing the swim champs becomes much more difficult.
So for that first 20 minutes. I. Drilled. It. As in 80-85% of my max heart rate. And it really didn't ever hurt. It felt great actually, and it shocked me a little because it isn't like I train anymore. I am lucky to ride twice a week.
I have no idea how many riders I passed but the number was high. I spent most of the trail off in the rocks and grass t0 get around people. Then came the singletrack and things ground right to a halt. Almost. It was very slow going. Riders would queue up behind slower riders and as the opportunity arose would pass. I must admit that people were pretty polite about being passed. I'm sorry if I pissed anyone off.
At the top of the climb, just above the lodge at Snowbasin, the trail split for the long course and short course. I was happy to be turning off instead of carrying on to the top of the mountain like last year.
Total bike time plus transition: 1:22:19
Next up: The Run.
August 21, 2008
XTERRA - The Swim
I took Kev's advice and lined up way to the right of the pack, close to the boats. When they said go, I didn't. I counted to ten and then jumped in to avoid the washing machine, after all I just want to finish the swim. The jitters were gone from my short warm-up swim and I took off.
And it was good. The weather was perfect. The water was perfect. It was just a great day. I swam my pace and never panicked, I thought I was getting tired on the way to the first marker, and thought about moving to a boat and just taking a break, but I told myself to stop being an asshat and just swim. I usually take breaks, but I do because I can, not because I need to. I feel safer when I'm not tiring. Today I kept plugging along.
Because I was so far to the right the kayakers had to help me with direction a couple of times as I was swimming straight out instead of towards the first marker, nerves more than anything I think. But before I was even to the first marker I was mixing in with other swimmers. And it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Granted, the back of the pack is where the non-combative swimmers hang out, but it wasn't nearly as hard to move through people as I thought it would be.
I swung wide of the first marker to avoid the washing machine and by now had some confidence going. Dare I say I had mo-men-tum? I was really doing it. Finally, after all of 2007 teaching myself to swim, then failing two tri swims, and dealing with those failures plus the anxiety of my fear of water for the past year, I was finally swimming in the middle of the damn lake.
And I liked it. I liked it a lot.
Rounding the second marker I picked up the pace a little bit. I was tiring, but not terribly. I was sighting good and swimming straight. Here is where I really got into the people. I'd find some feet to draft on but I was going faster than most people, remember, I was the last one in the water, and I wanted to get to shore and get on with it. Which I finally did.
And I wasn't even close to being the last one out of the water.
On the beach I turned, faced the lake and gave it the double-barreled middle fingers. Which I am sure left many people wondering who I hated in the lake. At the time, it was to the lake, saying I'd finally beat it. In retrospect, it wasn't the lake, I think I left a lot of fear in that water. I can't guarantee that I'll never get anxious about swimming again, But I now have a better idea of what I am capable of doing, and I don't need to be afraid anymore.
Into T1, I took a little too long. I washed my feet, put on socks, the Garmin 305, pulled my shirt on four times, etc. Probably only 3 minutes. Then my Dad was there. In transition. Talking to me. Not what I expected as I was in a damn big hurry! But he was able to get my bag and suit out for me. And I got the hell going. I had a lot of swim champs to pass.
Total time for the swim and T1: 21:47. Next: The Bike
And it was good. The weather was perfect. The water was perfect. It was just a great day. I swam my pace and never panicked, I thought I was getting tired on the way to the first marker, and thought about moving to a boat and just taking a break, but I told myself to stop being an asshat and just swim. I usually take breaks, but I do because I can, not because I need to. I feel safer when I'm not tiring. Today I kept plugging along.
Because I was so far to the right the kayakers had to help me with direction a couple of times as I was swimming straight out instead of towards the first marker, nerves more than anything I think. But before I was even to the first marker I was mixing in with other swimmers. And it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Granted, the back of the pack is where the non-combative swimmers hang out, but it wasn't nearly as hard to move through people as I thought it would be.
I swung wide of the first marker to avoid the washing machine and by now had some confidence going. Dare I say I had mo-men-tum? I was really doing it. Finally, after all of 2007 teaching myself to swim, then failing two tri swims, and dealing with those failures plus the anxiety of my fear of water for the past year, I was finally swimming in the middle of the damn lake.
And I liked it. I liked it a lot.
Rounding the second marker I picked up the pace a little bit. I was tiring, but not terribly. I was sighting good and swimming straight. Here is where I really got into the people. I'd find some feet to draft on but I was going faster than most people, remember, I was the last one in the water, and I wanted to get to shore and get on with it. Which I finally did.
And I wasn't even close to being the last one out of the water.
On the beach I turned, faced the lake and gave it the double-barreled middle fingers. Which I am sure left many people wondering who I hated in the lake. At the time, it was to the lake, saying I'd finally beat it. In retrospect, it wasn't the lake, I think I left a lot of fear in that water. I can't guarantee that I'll never get anxious about swimming again, But I now have a better idea of what I am capable of doing, and I don't need to be afraid anymore.
Into T1, I took a little too long. I washed my feet, put on socks, the Garmin 305, pulled my shirt on four times, etc. Probably only 3 minutes. Then my Dad was there. In transition. Talking to me. Not what I expected as I was in a damn big hurry! But he was able to get my bag and suit out for me. And I got the hell going. I had a lot of swim champs to pass.
Total time for the swim and T1: 21:47. Next: The Bike
August 20, 2008
Pre Race
Actually, the pre-race for this event started five minutes after the start of last years’ race. I just didn’t realize it at the time because I was busy backstroking and trying to calm myself in the middle of the lake and working to get back to a water depth that would allow me to stand up.
It mostly sucked.
This year the pre-race was even worse. The anxiety I felt while swimming last year, along with the bitter taste of failure, have been with me for the past 365 days. I know it has driven Wifey crazy to hear me either whining about it or attempting to self-diagnose why swimming in open water scares the pants off of me.
Anyway, on with the story…
I took Friday off and got pretty much everything squared away. I wandered downtown and registered, nothing like doing it at the last minute. I even polished the Titus with Pledge to give it a nice shine and an orangey smell that might be soothing. The only hitches I was experiencing were these constant bouts with panic. I’d think about being clear out there, so far from shore and my stomach would lurch into my throat and my neck and ears would burn. Not to take anything away from those with an official diagnosis, but I think I was having post-traumatic stress from the panic of last year.
I started taking Xanax. It must have been expired because the shit did. Not. Work. Or if it did I can only imagine how much worse my anxiety could have been.
I had bags packed and everything laid out by 10:00 pm and was in bed by 10:30. But I didn’t really fall asleep until about 2:30. I don’t think it was the anxiety though. I think it was the large iced coffee I had drunk earlier.
Then I was awake at 4:30. And the panic kicked in again. And I took another Xanax.
I tried to gag down some cereal but that wasn’t working so I switched to Ensure. Liquid calories were about all I could get down. I did manage the morning movement, which is always a fear, needing to go when racing just sucks.
Load the truck and out the door about 6:45. I drove to T2 at Snowbasin and set up my run. Left the truck there and rode the bike down to the beach, thinking it would burn up some anxiety. It didn’t. But it was better than sitting on the shuttle bus and did allow me a little warm-up. I only thought about purposely crashing to avoid swimming a couple of times. But the whole way down, I kept telling myself it was a perfect day. Bright, sunny, not too warm. NO WIND. Puuurrrrrfect.
I arrived about 8:45, 15 minutes before the long-course start. I got my bike set up and put on the wetsuit, just trying to maintain what composure I had left. I found another cut in the calf of the suit. XTERRA brand suits must use the most fragile neoprene on the goddamn planet! Suited-up, I made my way down to the beach, and I noticed the first buoy was a solid 400 meters away, well over halfway across the lake. This was turning out to be a sick joke. Then I saw my friend Kevin. As we were talking and he was doing everything except bitch slapping and shaking to encourage me, the starting cannon went off to start the long course race.
I nearly shit myself when I saw the people go in the water and was right on the verge of a grand mal panic attack. I seriously thought about walking up to the parking lot, waiting for the sport-distance finishers to come in, and just riding and running with them. Fortunately, Kevin made a good point: stay to the right side, away from the people and near the boats. He knew I could do the distance. Then I saw fellow bloggers Nytro and Iron Benny. They also had some words of encouragement.
I made my way to the water’s edge and eased in. I started swimming to loosen up and I could not put my face in the water. I remember saying to myself that I wasn’t going to get it done like this and took the plunge. The water felt great. Perfect. I swam down the bank and back to the group. An old dude told me that we were about to start.
Next time: The Swim
It mostly sucked.
This year the pre-race was even worse. The anxiety I felt while swimming last year, along with the bitter taste of failure, have been with me for the past 365 days. I know it has driven Wifey crazy to hear me either whining about it or attempting to self-diagnose why swimming in open water scares the pants off of me.
Anyway, on with the story…
I took Friday off and got pretty much everything squared away. I wandered downtown and registered, nothing like doing it at the last minute. I even polished the Titus with Pledge to give it a nice shine and an orangey smell that might be soothing. The only hitches I was experiencing were these constant bouts with panic. I’d think about being clear out there, so far from shore and my stomach would lurch into my throat and my neck and ears would burn. Not to take anything away from those with an official diagnosis, but I think I was having post-traumatic stress from the panic of last year.
I started taking Xanax. It must have been expired because the shit did. Not. Work. Or if it did I can only imagine how much worse my anxiety could have been.
I had bags packed and everything laid out by 10:00 pm and was in bed by 10:30. But I didn’t really fall asleep until about 2:30. I don’t think it was the anxiety though. I think it was the large iced coffee I had drunk earlier.
Then I was awake at 4:30. And the panic kicked in again. And I took another Xanax.
I tried to gag down some cereal but that wasn’t working so I switched to Ensure. Liquid calories were about all I could get down. I did manage the morning movement, which is always a fear, needing to go when racing just sucks.
Load the truck and out the door about 6:45. I drove to T2 at Snowbasin and set up my run. Left the truck there and rode the bike down to the beach, thinking it would burn up some anxiety. It didn’t. But it was better than sitting on the shuttle bus and did allow me a little warm-up. I only thought about purposely crashing to avoid swimming a couple of times. But the whole way down, I kept telling myself it was a perfect day. Bright, sunny, not too warm. NO WIND. Puuurrrrrfect.
I arrived about 8:45, 15 minutes before the long-course start. I got my bike set up and put on the wetsuit, just trying to maintain what composure I had left. I found another cut in the calf of the suit. XTERRA brand suits must use the most fragile neoprene on the goddamn planet! Suited-up, I made my way down to the beach, and I noticed the first buoy was a solid 400 meters away, well over halfway across the lake. This was turning out to be a sick joke. Then I saw my friend Kevin. As we were talking and he was doing everything except bitch slapping and shaking to encourage me, the starting cannon went off to start the long course race.
I nearly shit myself when I saw the people go in the water and was right on the verge of a grand mal panic attack. I seriously thought about walking up to the parking lot, waiting for the sport-distance finishers to come in, and just riding and running with them. Fortunately, Kevin made a good point: stay to the right side, away from the people and near the boats. He knew I could do the distance. Then I saw fellow bloggers Nytro and Iron Benny. They also had some words of encouragement.
I made my way to the water’s edge and eased in. I started swimming to loosen up and I could not put my face in the water. I remember saying to myself that I wasn’t going to get it done like this and took the plunge. The water felt great. Perfect. I swam down the bank and back to the group. An old dude told me that we were about to start.
Next time: The Swim
August 16, 2008
XTERRA
I came.
I saw.
I nearly had a grand mal panic attack.
Nearly.
On a perfect day for racing, I made it, and the fruit of redemption is sweet.
I think tonight will be the best night of sleep I've had in weeks.
Race reports to follow. Yep, plural. Not going to have a marathon post like I had with the Ogden Marathon. I'll break it down into smaller, chewey bits for you to enjoy.
I saw.
I nearly had a grand mal panic attack.
Nearly.
On a perfect day for racing, I made it, and the fruit of redemption is sweet.
I think tonight will be the best night of sleep I've had in weeks.
Race reports to follow. Yep, plural. Not going to have a marathon post like I had with the Ogden Marathon. I'll break it down into smaller, chewey bits for you to enjoy.
June 18, 2008
Kung Fu Da Da
Last night I did something I didn't think I'd do for several more years, I took Smarty Pants to a movie. Aside from the staggering cost for two tickets to Kung Fu Panda, I didn't take a beating until the last 30 minutes of the film. That's when Smartie's attention span went out back for a smoke. She sat in my lap and proceeded to Kung Fu my patience for the rest of the movie. But it was fun and something we'll do again in about 1-2 years.
I felt almost like a cyclist again last week, which is why I haven't had a post. I rode Thursday, Friday and Sunday. Of course, that was last week and I'm back to wishing. I haven't been in the pool for a week because of a little crash Friday.
My friend Tie-Phil put on an Alley Cat Race Friday night. If you don't know, an Alley Cat is a point to point, scavenger hunt race through the city. Our city being Ogden. While I would love to regale you with lurid tales of out sprinting fellow racers, I won't because I can't. Though I finished 6th, I took yet another DNF as I forgot my Burger King crown.
I don't even know where a Burger King is. I haven't eaten at a Burger King in possibly years.
I could have followed some other guys, but after downing a surprise bloody mary at stop three, playing skeeball, and airing down my front tire only to get a whopping 25 psi back in, I forgot about the King.
Speaking of the tire, it made me crash. Well, the homeless guy who parked his goddamn bike across the river parkway didn't help either. I'm flying along and see the dude with his four teeth and instead of going across the path, he stops. Right. In. The. Center. Of the path.
I hit the brakes on the new Trek XO cross bike, the front tire slams through what little air I was able to get back into it from the shitty pump I used and hits the pavement. The bike gets all squirrelly and I have to lock up the back to keep from knocking out homeless dude.
I pick myself back up and he says something to the effect of "Good thing I wasn't a car." Yep, good thing, because a car would have just driven the hell by, not requiring any sort of attempted stoppage on my part.
My race, and my knee, were done after that. Except for the double barrel whiskey shots at the next stop anyway. Amazingly, no major damage to the bike, just some grindage on the shifter and brake lever, and I need to rewrap the bars. The knee however, had some road rash which is just starting to heal. But has kept me out of the pool.
I don't want my scabs sloughing off onto the guy in the next lane. Ewwww.
I started another two wheel project. Not a motorcycle this time, but a '55 Schwinn Corvette. It looks like hell, well, heck. I'm not sure where to go with it though. I can't afford to spend $500 on a $250 bike, so I'm debating powder coating it, having a cheap paint job applied, or borrowing a gun and trying to paint it myself. Should I buy reproduction decals or have it custom pinstriped? I go back and forth. I just want a fun bike to kick around on with Wifey and Smarty Pants. Got suggestions? Leave 'em in the comments.
I felt almost like a cyclist again last week, which is why I haven't had a post. I rode Thursday, Friday and Sunday. Of course, that was last week and I'm back to wishing. I haven't been in the pool for a week because of a little crash Friday.
My friend Tie-Phil put on an Alley Cat Race Friday night. If you don't know, an Alley Cat is a point to point, scavenger hunt race through the city. Our city being Ogden. While I would love to regale you with lurid tales of out sprinting fellow racers, I won't because I can't. Though I finished 6th, I took yet another DNF as I forgot my Burger King crown.
I don't even know where a Burger King is. I haven't eaten at a Burger King in possibly years.
I could have followed some other guys, but after downing a surprise bloody mary at stop three, playing skeeball, and airing down my front tire only to get a whopping 25 psi back in, I forgot about the King.
Speaking of the tire, it made me crash. Well, the homeless guy who parked his goddamn bike across the river parkway didn't help either. I'm flying along and see the dude with his four teeth and instead of going across the path, he stops. Right. In. The. Center. Of the path.
I hit the brakes on the new Trek XO cross bike, the front tire slams through what little air I was able to get back into it from the shitty pump I used and hits the pavement. The bike gets all squirrelly and I have to lock up the back to keep from knocking out homeless dude.
I pick myself back up and he says something to the effect of "Good thing I wasn't a car." Yep, good thing, because a car would have just driven the hell by, not requiring any sort of attempted stoppage on my part.
My race, and my knee, were done after that. Except for the double barrel whiskey shots at the next stop anyway. Amazingly, no major damage to the bike, just some grindage on the shifter and brake lever, and I need to rewrap the bars. The knee however, had some road rash which is just starting to heal. But has kept me out of the pool.
I don't want my scabs sloughing off onto the guy in the next lane. Ewwww.
I started another two wheel project. Not a motorcycle this time, but a '55 Schwinn Corvette. It looks like hell, well, heck. I'm not sure where to go with it though. I can't afford to spend $500 on a $250 bike, so I'm debating powder coating it, having a cheap paint job applied, or borrowing a gun and trying to paint it myself. Should I buy reproduction decals or have it custom pinstriped? I go back and forth. I just want a fun bike to kick around on with Wifey and Smarty Pants. Got suggestions? Leave 'em in the comments.
May 23, 2008
The Actual Race Report!
Okay, now for a real race report. Well, less of a race report than a tale of survival because I woke up at 3:30 in the morning, then stayed awake. Now with a 2 year old 3:30 is a common thing, but usually I am right back to bed after tossing a cup of water at Smarty Pants and tucking her back in. What struck me was that Smarty Pants was at the in-laws and I was throwing away a purrrfect opportunity to continue peacefully slumbering away the hours.
But I had this great idea. See, last year I ran the half-marathon and the entire time I was on the bus and waiting to start I was craving coffee and vowed to have it with me on the shuttle should I ever run again. So I had this great idea. Get coffee in a throwaway cup (with lid) on Friday. Recycle that cup Saturday morning and then send it, empty, to the landfill sometime post shuttle ride. Great idea, right? Right.
So I woke up mostly on time, ate, took care of shizness, got dressed, taped my feet, put on my shoes, grabbed my bag o’ stuff and left the nest with plenty of time to spare, but without my coffee in the handy throwaway cup. Now it wouldn’t be such a big deal except this plan had been in the works for the last 365 damn days. And ground Peet’s Coffee just for the event. And I still forgot. A prime example of how I roll.
No time to stop for a cup so we pick up my sister-in-law, who ran the half with Wifey, and drive 10 minutes to the shuttles. They took the half-marry shuttles and I moved to the other side of the street to jump on the marathon shuttles. I ran into a friend trying to organize the bus chaos and chatted it up for a minute before joining the bus mob. Those of us non-boat-rocker-types gradually had to move down the sidewalk because apparently people were afraid of being left and started moving towards anything yellow with wheels. It was bus bedlam. But I’ll spare the rant because as I moved down the sidewalk I noticed a local bakery was passing out cookies and COFFEE! For FREE and everything! Adventurous Bakery on Washington Blvd. in Ogden, I heart you! If I didn’t work so far away I would come by everyday and wear your peanut butter fingers on the MDA (more on this in another post) for eternity.
Now, I am shy and choose to brood and internalize everything. If I don’t know you and talk to you, understand that I am really putting myself out there. I could cry. Or run away. At any time. No, I never dated much, thanks for asking. So sharing a seat on a bus is always a bit unnerving. But rather than come across as a total dick, I try and make some small talk with the 26 year-old mother of three in the seat next to me. (Not validated BTW, but that is the Utah way.) I don’t know how long the drive was, but I shared way too many insecurities about my training, general fitness, body image, etc. to be considered anything less than a total twit.
Now, a PSA: if you have a drop bag for your clothes and two hours between the shuttle departure and the race start, fill that thing with everything you think you may need. Wet wipes in case you have to head to the johns, food, water…. Not really an epiphany, but to a first-timer like me to come up with that one on my own, I was damn pleased with myself. After not having a drop bag last year, it had been in the works (like the coffee). No need to thank me.
I’ve been reading about a liquid diet for racing. And, for once, actually testing it out before just showing up on race day with a new program for my intestines to follow. Granted, the bod was probably thankful to have Ensure® for fuel instead of my normal pre-ride malted French toast and bacon, or bacon omelet, or sausage muffin with bacon. I’ll say it, liquid diets rock. That was about the most stable I’ve ever been in an event. I consumed three bottles of Ensure over the three hours prior to the race, plus a Clif bar for a total of about 1,200 calories, and had no GI distress issues. Not saying the run wasn’t eventful, but there was no ass-ociation to the new diet.
One new thing I was trying for only the second time was my new Garmin Forerunner 305. Fuggin’ awesome. There is no way I would have maintained my pace without it.
Anyhoo, at the start I pee, lace-up my shoes using the coolest knot ever (zero slippage) sunblock the face with 50, bid adieu to my drop bag and warm jacket (it was only about 48 at the start, brrrr), and stage in the 9 minute mile section. Then the gun went off and we started running. And running. And running for the next four hours. And that, my friends, is pretty much what a marathon is all about.
I ran my ass off. And somewhere, Michael Douglas sobbed into CZ-J’s bosom.
As I mentioned previously, it was a truly beautiful day. I run with an ipod Shuffle and actually shut it off to listen to the birds and pitter-patter of runners’ feet. But the idle chatter of others had the buds screwed back in quick. How the hell can people talk at a 7:30 mile, I ask you?
At mile 8 I felt the first pangs of intestinal woes. Thinking it was gas from the Powerade (which is crap, bring your own electrolytes and drink water) I had drunk earlier, I struggled with the moral dilemma all endurance athletes have asked themselves: should I try to fart and hope for the best or hold it in until I can sit down and relieve myself safely? Rather than risk a shart (shit-fart) and then have monkey butt the rest of the week I put the urge somewhere near where Bilbo found the one ring and kept going - until mile 8.5, when it got a little more serious. I decided to hit the next open john. Apparently so did everyone else. So I came up with a plan: gut it out (pun intended) until halfway and refuel while I offload. Which is just what I did. At mile 13.1 there were rows of john
s.
I grabbed Powerbars, water and a banana (cuz they be good to help stem the flow), found a “clean” john and took a break. A 7-minute break because no matter what, I don’t rush these things. A little long but I really didn’t want to be back. SEVERAL people tried to rip the damn door off to get in (or maybe they saw me go in and were checking to see if I was okay) which irritated the hell out of me. I really don’t think this was GI distress, just the results of Bob’s 10-Grain hot cereal. Afterwards, as the graph from motionbased.com shows, I suffered no adverse affects.
A mile later I hit the only real hill on the course, and I pretty much killed it (but what do you really “kill” at 9-minute pace) because I was feeling surprisingly strong. It was also when I started to notice the carnage around me. More walking. People taking off shoes to check out blisters. People stretching out cramps. It was starting to get hot and was really taking a toll so I was pounding two waters and a Powerade at every aid station. I could feel the pinky toe in my right foot feeling a little smashed but I wasn’t even stopping for that. Running around Pineview reservoir had me laughing at myself as it was the location of two of my biggest failures ever, and the reason I can’t call myself a triathlete. Because I’ve never finished a swim. Sharks and shit in there you know.
About halfway to the dam I walked through an aid station I think was manned by the Baptist church. And they had bubble gum. Real live bubble gum. Sugary sugary sugary bubble gum. And it was so savory-good. And it got me through to another aid station on the other side of the dam, at the top of Ogden Canyon, where a guy had a fistful of red Vines. And I loves me some Red Vines. These little things not only kicked ass but also went a long way to getting me to the finish.
Ogden Canyon is a beautiful place to run, but it’s also narrow and dangerous so you are really putting your life at risk to do so. But closed to traffic it was and it made for a nice run. It is also the location of the feared mile 20. The mile where you are supposed to break if you haven’t done your long runs. It was another little victory when mile 20 came and went with nothing but a mouthful of Gu. But my feet were feeling it now. The pinky toe was aching and I could feel BIG blisters forming on the sides of my big toes. I knew about how much time I had left and still felt pretty good so I decided to make up for my earlier time out and try and lower the 8:53 min./mile the Garmin showed. And then at mile 22 the Shuffle started to play a song that means a lot to me. “Time for Me to Fly” by REO Speedwagon.
You see gentle readers, I have an older sister who died of liver cancer on January 31, 2006. I say “have” because her memory is always with me, even though she isn’t. For her funeral my step dad and I put together a slide show and I added a few songs that I knew she liked. That is one of those songs. When I hear one of those songs, in a situation like this, any pain I have gets pushed out of the picture and is replaced with something like a rage. Oh, I get just fucking mad that she was taken from us. And I think about cancer patients and chemo, and I remember that the pain I am feeling at that moment is the pain of actual living, not the pain from trying to live, and that Sis and millions of patients and victims would love to just be able to feel what we runners are feeling on that day. And just. Be. Healthy. Unlike them, we can stop and just quit at any time with no real consequences other than a damaged ego. I look at the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet I wear, even though they are no longer the fashion (though yellow is the color of liver cancer remembrance) and the black HARDEN THE FUCK UP bracelet also wear and no matter what I am doing, I work a little harder and am just a little more thankful. And that’s all I have to say about that, for now.
Out of the canyon and onto the Ogden River Parkway I carried my "momentum." I was under 4-hours on the Garmin, but I now wanted to make sure I beat 4-hours on the finish clock. I was doing my best to maintain an 8 min./mile pace but when I turned onto Grant Ave. the home straight, was really feeling the feet again. And another great song came on the Shuffle, and I gave it everything I had to get across the finish line which was now doing the horror movie thing where it seems to get farther and farther away. The tents eventually got bigger and I could finally see the clock and knew I’d beat the 4-hour mark. I saw Wifey and Smarty Pants and the in-laws and ran across the line. I would have brought Smarty Pants with me but was afraid I’d fall over if I tried to carry her.
Here are the stats from the Garmin:
Total Time (h:m:s) 3:53:00 8:43 pace
Moving Time (h:m:s) 3:45:14 8:25 pace
Distance (mi ) 26.72
Moving Speed (mph) 7.1 avg. 12.0 max.
Elevation Gain (ft) +4,217 / -5,366
Avg. Heart Rate 155 bpm Zone 4.4
Temperature (°F) 66.2°F avg. 71.6°F high
Wind Speed ( mph) ENE 3.2 avg. ENE 6.9 max.
Walking through the chute I saw a lot of friends, and even ran into a slightly familiar face, none other than Nytro, who was volunteering at the event. After convincing her I was not a “serial killer” I was shocked and taken slightly aback that she remembered not just our emailing from last summer, but my first, and last names. Stalker! You can read about our chance meeting on her blog also and it's a way better read than mine. It was nice to meet a fellow athlete and I will take her up on the beer anytime. I’ll explain the Duckboy handle in a later blog. Nothing special, but it warrants explanation.
After were a light lunch and an ice bath. Smarty Pants went to my mother’s for the night, Wifey went to Wendover and I enjoyed some quiet recovery time. Sunday had me on the road bike for a 2-hour jaunt to loosen up. My feet are healing, and I’m still draining blisters. I think I’m gonna lose the nail on the right pinky toe.
I’ve already committed to running the Top of Utah half-marry with Wifey. Actually running with her to try and pace her under 2-hours. Can’t wait. Not saying I am now addicted to marathoning, but I don’t think this will be my last.
Speaking of marathons, that is what this post turned out to be. I hope you were able to stick with it.
But I had this great idea. See, last year I ran the half-marathon and the entire time I was on the bus and waiting to start I was craving coffee and vowed to have it with me on the shuttle should I ever run again. So I had this great idea. Get coffee in a throwaway cup (with lid) on Friday. Recycle that cup Saturday morning and then send it, empty, to the landfill sometime post shuttle ride. Great idea, right? Right.
So I woke up mostly on time, ate, took care of shizness, got dressed, taped my feet, put on my shoes, grabbed my bag o’ stuff and left the nest with plenty of time to spare, but without my coffee in the handy throwaway cup. Now it wouldn’t be such a big deal except this plan had been in the works for the last 365 damn days. And ground Peet’s Coffee just for the event. And I still forgot. A prime example of how I roll.No time to stop for a cup so we pick up my sister-in-law, who ran the half with Wifey, and drive 10 minutes to the shuttles. They took the half-marry shuttles and I moved to the other side of the street to jump on the marathon shuttles. I ran into a friend trying to organize the bus chaos and chatted it up for a minute before joining the bus mob. Those of us non-boat-rocker-types gradually had to move down the sidewalk because apparently people were afraid of being left and started moving towards anything yellow with wheels. It was bus bedlam. But I’ll spare the rant because as I moved down the sidewalk I noticed a local bakery was passing out cookies and COFFEE! For FREE and everything! Adventurous Bakery on Washington Blvd. in Ogden, I heart you! If I didn’t work so far away I would come by everyday and wear your peanut butter fingers on the MDA (more on this in another post) for eternity.
Now, I am shy and choose to brood and internalize everything. If I don’t know you and talk to you, understand that I am really putting myself out there. I could cry. Or run away. At any time. No, I never dated much, thanks for asking. So sharing a seat on a bus is always a bit unnerving. But rather than come across as a total dick, I try and make some small talk with the 26 year-old mother of three in the seat next to me. (Not validated BTW, but that is the Utah way.) I don’t know how long the drive was, but I shared way too many insecurities about my training, general fitness, body image, etc. to be considered anything less than a total twit.
Now, a PSA: if you have a drop bag for your clothes and two hours between the shuttle departure and the race start, fill that thing with everything you think you may need. Wet wipes in case you have to head to the johns, food, water…. Not really an epiphany, but to a first-timer like me to come up with that one on my own, I was damn pleased with myself. After not having a drop bag last year, it had been in the works (like the coffee). No need to thank me.
I’ve been reading about a liquid diet for racing. And, for once, actually testing it out before just showing up on race day with a new program for my intestines to follow. Granted, the bod was probably thankful to have Ensure® for fuel instead of my normal pre-ride malted French toast and bacon, or bacon omelet, or sausage muffin with bacon. I’ll say it, liquid diets rock. That was about the most stable I’ve ever been in an event. I consumed three bottles of Ensure over the three hours prior to the race, plus a Clif bar for a total of about 1,200 calories, and had no GI distress issues. Not saying the run wasn’t eventful, but there was no ass-ociation to the new diet.
One new thing I was trying for only the second time was my new Garmin Forerunner 305. Fuggin’ awesome. There is no way I would have maintained my pace without it.
Anyhoo, at the start I pee, lace-up my shoes using the coolest knot ever (zero slippage) sunblock the face with 50, bid adieu to my drop bag and warm jacket (it was only about 48 at the start, brrrr), and stage in the 9 minute mile section. Then the gun went off and we started running. And running. And running for the next four hours. And that, my friends, is pretty much what a marathon is all about.
I ran my ass off. And somewhere, Michael Douglas sobbed into CZ-J’s bosom.
As I mentioned previously, it was a truly beautiful day. I run with an ipod Shuffle and actually shut it off to listen to the birds and pitter-patter of runners’ feet. But the idle chatter of others had the buds screwed back in quick. How the hell can people talk at a 7:30 mile, I ask you?
At mile 8 I felt the first pangs of intestinal woes. Thinking it was gas from the Powerade (which is crap, bring your own electrolytes and drink water) I had drunk earlier, I struggled with the moral dilemma all endurance athletes have asked themselves: should I try to fart and hope for the best or hold it in until I can sit down and relieve myself safely? Rather than risk a shart (shit-fart) and then have monkey butt the rest of the week I put the urge somewhere near where Bilbo found the one ring and kept going - until mile 8.5, when it got a little more serious. I decided to hit the next open john. Apparently so did everyone else. So I came up with a plan: gut it out (pun intended) until halfway and refuel while I offload. Which is just what I did. At mile 13.1 there were rows of john
s.I grabbed Powerbars, water and a banana (cuz they be good to help stem the flow), found a “clean” john and took a break. A 7-minute break because no matter what, I don’t rush these things. A little long but I really didn’t want to be back. SEVERAL people tried to rip the damn door off to get in (or maybe they saw me go in and were checking to see if I was okay) which irritated the hell out of me. I really don’t think this was GI distress, just the results of Bob’s 10-Grain hot cereal. Afterwards, as the graph from motionbased.com shows, I suffered no adverse affects.
A mile later I hit the only real hill on the course, and I pretty much killed it (but what do you really “kill” at 9-minute pace) because I was feeling surprisingly strong. It was also when I started to notice the carnage around me. More walking. People taking off shoes to check out blisters. People stretching out cramps. It was starting to get hot and was really taking a toll so I was pounding two waters and a Powerade at every aid station. I could feel the pinky toe in my right foot feeling a little smashed but I wasn’t even stopping for that. Running around Pineview reservoir had me laughing at myself as it was the location of two of my biggest failures ever, and the reason I can’t call myself a triathlete. Because I’ve never finished a swim. Sharks and shit in there you know.
About halfway to the dam I walked through an aid station I think was manned by the Baptist church. And they had bubble gum. Real live bubble gum. Sugary sugary sugary bubble gum. And it was so savory-good. And it got me through to another aid station on the other side of the dam, at the top of Ogden Canyon, where a guy had a fistful of red Vines. And I loves me some Red Vines. These little things not only kicked ass but also went a long way to getting me to the finish.
Ogden Canyon is a beautiful place to run, but it’s also narrow and dangerous so you are really putting your life at risk to do so. But closed to traffic it was and it made for a nice run. It is also the location of the feared mile 20. The mile where you are supposed to break if you haven’t done your long runs. It was another little victory when mile 20 came and went with nothing but a mouthful of Gu. But my feet were feeling it now. The pinky toe was aching and I could feel BIG blisters forming on the sides of my big toes. I knew about how much time I had left and still felt pretty good so I decided to make up for my earlier time out and try and lower the 8:53 min./mile the Garmin showed. And then at mile 22 the Shuffle started to play a song that means a lot to me. “Time for Me to Fly” by REO Speedwagon.
You see gentle readers, I have an older sister who died of liver cancer on January 31, 2006. I say “have” because her memory is always with me, even though she isn’t. For her funeral my step dad and I put together a slide show and I added a few songs that I knew she liked. That is one of those songs. When I hear one of those songs, in a situation like this, any pain I have gets pushed out of the picture and is replaced with something like a rage. Oh, I get just fucking mad that she was taken from us. And I think about cancer patients and chemo, and I remember that the pain I am feeling at that moment is the pain of actual living, not the pain from trying to live, and that Sis and millions of patients and victims would love to just be able to feel what we runners are feeling on that day. And just. Be. Healthy. Unlike them, we can stop and just quit at any time with no real consequences other than a damaged ego. I look at the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet I wear, even though they are no longer the fashion (though yellow is the color of liver cancer remembrance) and the black HARDEN THE FUCK UP bracelet also wear and no matter what I am doing, I work a little harder and am just a little more thankful. And that’s all I have to say about that, for now.
Out of the canyon and onto the Ogden River Parkway I carried my "momentum." I was under 4-hours on the Garmin, but I now wanted to make sure I beat 4-hours on the finish clock. I was doing my best to maintain an 8 min./mile pace but when I turned onto Grant Ave. the home straight, was really feeling the feet again. And another great song came on the Shuffle, and I gave it everything I had to get across the finish line which was now doing the horror movie thing where it seems to get farther and farther away. The tents eventually got bigger and I could finally see the clock and knew I’d beat the 4-hour mark. I saw Wifey and Smarty Pants and the in-laws and ran across the line. I would have brought Smarty Pants with me but was afraid I’d fall over if I tried to carry her.
Here are the stats from the Garmin:
Total Time (h:m:s) 3:53:00 8:43 pace
Moving Time (h:m:s) 3:45:14 8:25 pace
Distance (mi ) 26.72
Moving Speed (mph) 7.1 avg. 12.0 max.
Elevation Gain (ft) +4,217 / -5,366
Avg. Heart Rate 155 bpm Zone 4.4
Temperature (°F) 66.2°F avg. 71.6°F high
Wind Speed ( mph) ENE 3.2 avg. ENE 6.9 max.
Walking through the chute I saw a lot of friends, and even ran into a slightly familiar face, none other than Nytro, who was volunteering at the event. After convincing her I was not a “serial killer” I was shocked and taken slightly aback that she remembered not just our emailing from last summer, but my first, and last names. Stalker! You can read about our chance meeting on her blog also and it's a way better read than mine. It was nice to meet a fellow athlete and I will take her up on the beer anytime. I’ll explain the Duckboy handle in a later blog. Nothing special, but it warrants explanation.
After were a light lunch and an ice bath. Smarty Pants went to my mother’s for the night, Wifey went to Wendover and I enjoyed some quiet recovery time. Sunday had me on the road bike for a 2-hour jaunt to loosen up. My feet are healing, and I’m still draining blisters. I think I’m gonna lose the nail on the right pinky toe.
I’ve already committed to running the Top of Utah half-marry with Wifey. Actually running with her to try and pace her under 2-hours. Can’t wait. Not saying I am now addicted to marathoning, but I don’t think this will be my last.
Speaking of marathons, that is what this post turned out to be. I hope you were able to stick with it.
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