A New 10k PR!

That's me in obnoxious day-glo yellow.

What could possibly cause me to get my lazy butt in front of a computer and write a new post for this dilapidated blog? The only possible answers are that I’m back to brag about getting either a new PR or a new pair of shoes for free; in this case it’s both! Go me!

This past Memorial Day was the Bolder Boulder 10k and I ran it in 51:27 which is a 40 second PR. To say that I’m pleased with that time is a gross understatement. My last PR at the 10k distance was in 2008 during the Bush administration. It’s been an eternity since I showed any improvement at the 10k distance and it was getting difficult to keep my ego as inflated as I like it.

So, what was the cause of my new found speed? Was it hard work and training? Hardly. Was it tons and tons of intervals? No thank you. It was as easy as dropping this extra 15lbs that I’ve been carrying around since the Clinton administration. Would you believe that being 15lbs lighter allows you to be faster? Crazy, huh? The product whore in me also wants to tell you that it was probably partially due to the fact that I was wearing those free Saucony Kinvaras that I mentioned in the previous post. I bet they make you run faster.

As for the new pair of shoes that I mentioned in the opening paragraph I’ll have more about those later (probably much later given my recent posting frequency). For now let’s just say that Mizuno has invited me to be a part of the Mezamashii project which I can only assume has something to do with forgiveness and being kind to your enemies since I’ve only ever had bad things to say about Mizuno on this blog. One time I even wrote a limerick about my Mizunos. You can find out more about the Mezamashii Project here including the literal translation of the word which is from the Japanese, ‘meza’ meaning can’t be bothered and ‘mashii’ meaning to check for previous posts on the topic. The Japanese language is such a compact yet oddly specific language.

Updates!

I’m getting old. That’s the first update. Lately it seems like something always hurts; my calf, my groin, my back, the list goes on and on. I never realized when I wrote this poem that it would turn out to be prophetic. Not only does everything hurt, but everything gets injured easier and heals slower. Getting older sucks.

My days are numbered. No, not in terms of life, in terms of continuing to be faster than my boys. David and Graham ran the Granby Gutbuster 5k over the summer. Their previous 5k PRs were both in the 37 minute range but they managed to complete it in 30:13 and 33:20. That was good enough to put David (age 8) 3rd in the Under 12 age group and Graham (age 6) 5th. Our families keep telling us that we obviously passed on the running talent to our kids but I’m starting to suspect that these aren’t my children because I don’t have any running talent. I have to work very hard at running to be this mediocre. I’m the 99% of running talent.

Finally, Candis and I ran the Denver Half Marathon last month. Naturally, I managed to roll an ankle right in the middle of my training and couldn’t run for a month (see first paragraph). I finished in 2:08 and Candis in 2:12. Those are hardly the times of ‘talented’ runners. We are middle-of-the-packers for life, not to be confused with the extremely talented Green Bay Packers.

6 Seconds

The Crossroads Half Marathon Race Report

Back in September Candis and I ran the Crossroads Half Marathon in scenic *snicker* Fort Collins and we both set new PRs.  However, since I was not posting back in September I didn’t get to boast regale you with the tale of  my our triumphs.  Here is the most belated race report you will ever skim over before posting a disingenuous “congrats” in the comments. 

Going into the race my long runs had been averaging a 9:30 pace which left me optimistic that I could get under the 2 hour mark (a 9:09 pace).  It had been 2 (two!) years since I broke the 2 hour mark in a half marathon and that was on a race that descended 1,000 feet from start to finish.  Due to my tempo runs being vastly more successful than my long runs my plan was to run the first half at a comfortable pace and then run the second half at a high tempo pace as though it were a training run.

Mistakes aplenty

I forgot to start my watch for the first minute or two of the race.  I then compounded this mistake by running back to Candis so she could tell me how much time I needed to add.  This seemed like a good idea at the time but I realize now that it might not have been my smartest decision.   I forgot my sunglasses.  I forgot my sunblock.  I managed to delete the playlist I was trying to shuffle, though I think I can pin that one on Steve Jobs.  It was not a good start.

I settle down

Due to my early mistakes and my clumsy attempts to calculate my actual time and distance and then my rehashing of my mistakes ad nauseum it took me a while to settle into an easy pace.  I finally managed to get comfortable and I tried to remember everyone that was passing me, telling myself to let them go and catch them later.

Just before the 5 mile mark a cute girl wearing a CamelBak ran up beside me and asked me what our time and distance was.  It was a simple question but I managed to stammer through the answer and I breathlessly tried to explain that I had started my watch late.  I then subtracted from the distance instead of adding to it and ended up telling her that we were at 4 ½ miles.  No sooner had I said that we rounded a corner and passed the 5 mile marker.  “Your watch is way off,” she said, and so was she, leaving me to contemplate my suaveness.

egO face?

I am a passing machine

I hit what I calculated (probably incorrectly) was the halfway point in the race and started to pick up my pace.  The field was pretty spread out and I was moving from one group to the next, passing people with authority.  A few people tried to keep up but I was determined to drop people as I passed them and each time I passed them I think I had a tiny ego orgasm.  Maybe that's overstating it a little bit.  In any case, I was running a lot faster than was necessary to get under 2 hours and considered slowing down to ensure I wouldn't run out of gas in the last few miles but I was having too much fun picking people off to slow down.  "Screw it," I told myself, "I'm going for the PR."  I was terrified I was going to end up walking the final mile and see the clock tick past 2 hrs long before I crossed the finish.  A little voice in my head told me to back off and just take the 2 hour victory but I could not be reasoned with.  I was going for it.

I am invigorated by my own gusto

It was thrilling to be throwing caution to the wind and just running as fast as I could.  It was even more thrilling when I realized that I had the cute CamelBak girl in my sights.  I wondered if I should say anything to her as I passed (“have you slowed down?”) but decided against it.  As I passed her she glanced at me and offered up an approving nod and a high five.  “What’s our time and distance?” she asked again.

“I don’t know,” I replied with a shrug “my watch is way off.”

With a couple of miles left my legs were starting to feel like dead weights but I managed to will myself to my fastest mile of the day (8:11) for the final mile of the course.  I crossed the finish line and forgot to look at the official time though I did remember to stop my watch; a move that was as useless as a BP cleanup crew.  (Are we past the cutoff for BP jokes being funny/current?)  I knew that I was under 2 hours and depending on how much time I added for starting my watch late I knew that a PR was going to be close.  When the official times were posted I had managed a 6 second PR.  1:56:39.

Those of you that have followed this blog for any length of time know that it had been a while since I’d posted a PR at any distance and it felt great, orgasmic even.  Oh, and then Candis went and showed me up by beating her former PR by 8 (eight!) minutes with a 2:09:20.  Of course she didn’t have to overcome the adversity that I did that day.

Full disclosure:  When I was checking the posted results for my official time the cute girl with the CamelBak was there (sans CamelBak) looking for her time and despite crossing the line a minute or so after me she actually posted a faster time than me, by 21 seconds.  Curses!  Chicked again!

BB10k Race Report

I was successful on Monday in my continuing quest to get slower and slower, posting a time that was slower even than some of my training runs leading up to the Bolder Boulder. Awesome! Candis meanwhile continues to get faster, although not quite fast enough... yet. I ran a 54:39 and Candis posted a 55:56 (a 3 minute PR).

In typical banker/obsessed runner fashion I decided to use an excel spreadsheet to break down our 10k results over the last 5 years. Then I graphed them to see if there were any interesting trends... I really wish I hadn’t.

I wonder what will happen next year at the Bolder Boulder? I’m sure you’ve all got lots of crazy ideas floating around your heads about what might happen at next years race and you’re welcome to put those in the comments if you want, but I’m only going to make you eat your words when I triumph again next year.

The next potential race on our schedule is the Boulder Half Marathon. We’ve never done it before and have heard some good things about it. This past weekend we also heard a couple of bad things about it, so if any of you have run it or have any input to share we’d certainly appreciate it.

9 Lousy Seconds

That was how far I finished behind Candis on Saturday evening. Candis finished in 27:41, shaving 2 full minutes off her 5K PR. What the hell? Sandbagger! I finished in 24:50 which is not a PR but that’s quickly becoming tired meme on this blog so I won’t pursue it any further. Congrats to Candis for destroying her old PR, I wasn’t planning on her being able to go sub-28, but it turns out that her desire to beat me is a pretty strong motivator. I actually think she’s been employing the rope-a-dope against me. Remember that Triathlon she just finished, the one where she shaved 10 minutes off her previous time? She ran a 30+ minute 5K in that. Also, at the Granby Gut Buster she conveniently ran with our 6 year old so I wouldn’t know how fast she was. I can’t remember the last time she actually tried in a 5K.

I gave it my all during the final downhill stretch of the race and couldn’t catch her. I didn’t even see her until she made the final turn towards the finish line. At that point she was no more than a block away from finishing and I was still a couple hundred yards behind her. I was still gaining on her but it became apparent pretty quickly that I wasn’t going to catch her. As we crossed the line we were funneled into overly congested chutes so that they could tear the tags off our bibs (it was not chip timed) and somehow Candis managed to get into the most congested chute. I was through the chutes at least a minute ahead of Candis and was hoping worried that they were going to mess up the official times and show that I had beaten her. They did mess up the official times, adding between 15-20 seconds to our times, but still had her 3 seconds ahead of me.

The after-party is somewhat of a meat market as they try to cater to the singles crowd with fashion shows and dating games and the like. They’re still foisting Dale’s Pale Ale (which is not good) on an unsuspecting crowd, but they also gave us Chipotle Burritos and Mad Greens salads, so I suppose the beer faux pas can be forgiven. We were fortunate enough to meet up with Simon (from RunColo) & his wife Kelly after the race and they were gracious enough to not tell us their times and pretend that ours were impressive. That façade quickly faded though when Kelly had to go up on stage to collect her 3rd place prize. Yes, 3rd place overall. Congrats to Kelly and Simon who are both obscenely fast.

Congrats again to Candis. She is getting faster by leaps and bounds and I’m proud of her. 90 percent proud and 10 percent annoyed. Well... maybe 70 percent proud and 30 percent annoyed. Okay, okay, 25 percent proud, 75 percent annoyed. Fine, if this happens again we will NOT be on speaking terms.

Suckage Report

First of all, huge props to Candis for crushing her previous PR by over 6 minutes with a time of 58:52 and easily achieving her goal of a sub 60 minute 10K. She rocked it. When I realized that I wasn’t going to make my goal I started rejoicing vicariously for Candis’ PR because I knew that she was going to get it. I was more confident going into this race that Candis would PR than I was that I would PR. This is why I decided that the winner of our bet should have to sleep with the loser, because then I win even if I lose, which I did. The agreed upon time deduction that Candis received was 10 minutes, which means that Candis beat me by nearly 5 full minutes. I’m so proud of her, but that’s really quite enough happiness for this post.

We awoke on race morning to cloudy, overcast skies, temperatures in the low 50s and a 92% chance of suckage. It was perfect racing weather which is unfortunate because there’s one more excuse that I can’t use for my suckitude. Candis and I got split up when I went to the pre-race bag check and she had to go drop a pre-race deucer. (I mention this because I imagine that telling you about her bowel movements takes some of the bloom off the rose of her awesome race and when I’m down I like to drag as many others down with me as possible.) We never found each other before the start of the race and Candis ended up going out in the wave ahead of me.

My pacing strategy was to attempt 8 minute miles the entire way allowing myself to lose some time on the uphill miles and hoping to gain some time back on the downhill sections of the course. When I turned in an 8:10 first mile and felt winded I knew that I might be in trouble. My mile 2 split came in at 8:28 but it was one of the tougher miles on the course and I was still hoping to make up time on the downhill sections of miles 4 and 5. With that in mind I tried to save some energy on mile 3 and posted an 8:48 mile.

I started the 4th mile with a bang, charging down 19th street with steely resolve. I was going to make up the minute and 26 seconds that I was behind, or at the very least get back onto pace to set a new PR. I could not be stopped, I floated down the downhill sections like a gazelle and I attacked the uphill sections like a crazy man. Like Forrest Gump, I. Was. Running. As I dashed up Casey Hill (the highest point of the course) I crossed the 4 mile mark and checked my Garmin for my split: 8:44. 8:44? Are you freaking kidding me? That was at least a 7:25 mile! It certainly felt like a 7:25 mile. I cursed my Garmin and had I not been so exhausted I would have probably chucked it into the side of a building but that sounded like too much effort.

I kept an even effort for the 5th mile and posted another 8:44 mile. A few quick calculations brought the realization that not only was I not going to make my goal, but I wasn’t even going to PR. OK, so there was nothing quick about my calculations, the math probably took me 2 minutes. I began to think about Candis, who I had passed somewhere in the 2nd mile. I thought about waiting for her and pacing her to the finish, but really that would have just been an excuse to stop and rest. I hoped and hoped that she would get her sub 60 minute time so that she wouldn’t have to run the final mile the way I was running it. I decided not to kill myself on the final mile and I’m OK with that decision. I rounded out my race with a half-fast 9:03 mile and a final time of 53:50. Disappointing to say the least. I drowned my sorrows in free Michelob Ultra before heading to a Memorial Day BBQ where I continued drowning them in... well to be honest I don’t remember all the specifics of how I drowned them, I just know that I did. It turned out to be a good day anyway.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

Despite arriving at the starting corrals mere minutes before the starting gun fired, I meandered through the crowds with all the urgency of the Maytag repair man. I was nervous on the inside but I refused to let it show, figuring that my exterior Joe Cool attitude would override my nerves, or at the very least cause my exterior Joe Plumber to hike up his shorts a little. I elbowed my way into the starting corrals and we started walking towards the start. The plan was to run the first 10 miles at a 10 minute pace, run the second 10 miles at a 9:45 pace and finish the final 10K at a 9:30 pace, but I was well aware that I might slow down as the race wore on instead of speeding up.

Five minutes after the gun souned I reached the starting line and started out at a 10 minute pace. The sky was clear, the terrain was flat and I was surprised to find myself enjoying the run. I smiled at the thought that I was running a marathon, I was actually doing it. Over the first 10 miles there wasn’t much to report except a guy running in cargo shorts and a polo shirt, needless to say I passed him but not before I snapped a picture of him (right). I also saw a guy wearing a shirt that said “Since my lame family is not here please yell ‘Go Jeff!’” which made me laugh.

I hit mile 10 feeling good, feeling refreshed and I started to drop my pace down to the 9:45 range. Somewhere around mile 14 I made the transition from working to keep my pace in check to working to maintain my pace. Candis and the boys were waiting for me just past the mile 15 marker, I stopped for a good luck kiss, some gels and quick application of bodyglide to my sweaty undercarriage (applied by me, not Candis. She was supportive, but not that supportive).

The real low point of the race came shortly after my pit stop. Mile 16 was longer than Gone With The Wind. My legs started to get tired, my head wanted to call it quits and I began seriously debating just taking a DNF. I slowed to a walk for this internal struggle. I called Candis and she told me to get going, she read me some of the comments that you were all leaving on her updates and I somehow managed to start running again. I struggled through mile 16 and was struggling through mile 17 when R. Kelly’s I Believe came up on my playlist. It was the boost I needed. I was running again, I was even running a sub 10 minute pace again.

At mile 21 I felt my pace starting to slow, I knew I was going to have to use Nitmos’ war of posts approach to the remaining miles and I cursed him for entering my thoughts during a marathon, and for being right, and for existing. I walked through all the water stops from mile 21 through the end, I stopped occasionally to stretch my quads because they were starting to get really tight, but each time I stopped I managed to start shuffling my feet forwards again.

My kids were at the final turn before the finish line, I gave them both a high five and ran to the finish. I even had enough energy left for a little Wizzard of Oz heel kick as I crossed the finish line (video and pictures to come later). It was over. All I felt was relief. I was relieved that it was over, I was relieved that I didn’t stop at mile 16. My official time is posted as 4:31:06, which is a PR since this is my first marathon. Here’s a quick recap of my race goals as originally posted here, and my splits. I’ll have more about the race and meeting up with Razz, including more pictures and video in the coming days. Thanks to all of you who read this demented little blog for encouraging me and supporting me, especially to those of you who left comments during the race, you all mean more to me than I’ll ever let on. Thanks.

Original Goals

1. Start the marathon. - CHECK!
2. Finish the marathon. - CHECK!
3. Finish the marathon in an upright position. - CHECK!
4. Finish the marathon with a time under 4 hours 30 minutes. - Close, I’m going to give myself a Semi-Check!
5. Finish the marathon with a time under 4 hours 15 minutes. - Nope.
6. Finish the marathon with a smile on my face. - CHECK!
7. Finish the marathon with a time under 4 hours. - Hahahahahahahah, nope.
8. Qualify for Boston - requires a time of 3:10:59 (my computer audibly chuckled when I wrote that). - Nope.
9. Set a new marathon world record - requires a time of 2:03:58 or better. - Nope.
10. Take it easy and enjoy myself. - Surprisingly, CHECK!

Splits

Mile 1 10:11 Mile 2 10:00 Mile 3 10:08 Mile 4 9:56 Mile 5 10:23 (Pee Break) Mile 6 9:43 Mile 7 9:49 Mile 8 9:50 Mile 9 9:58 Mile 10 9:53

Mile 11 9:43 Mile 12 9:38 Mile 13 9:48 Mile 14 10:07 (Pee Break) Mile 15 9:46 Mile 16 11:02 Mile 17 10:33 Mile 18 9:58 Mile 19 9:49 Mile 20 9:56

Mile 21 10:54 Mile 22 11:57 Mile 23 10:30 Mile 24 12:00 Mile 25 11:25 Mile 26 11:53

We Deal in Speed, Friend

The Skirt Chaser 5K: A Joint Race Report
Because it was requested by tfh, this is a he said/she said race report, and since I have no idea what a he said/she said race report is supposed to look like this is how we’re doing it: I’m going to start typing a race report and Candis is going to interject and interrupt me in her usual manner.

Candis: How do I indicate that I’m rolling my eyes right now?
Ian: I think you just did.
As you may have guessed from the title of this post, the Skirt Chaser was a good race for both of us. In fact, we both set new PRs on Saturday. Candis broke 30 minutes for the first time in her running career with a time of 29:40 (9:32 pace). Awesome job babe! This also means that she’s setting the SY5K bar rather high by shaving more than 2 minutes off her 5K time and she’s not done yet... We have the Colder Bolder 5K coming up in December where I’m certain she’ll crack the 28 minute range.
Candis: Nothing is ever good enough...
Ian: I managed a time of 24:28 (7:52 pace), shaving almost 1 ½ minutes from my previous time. w00t! As you can tell if you’re any good at math, the 3 minute head start that the ladies get in the Skirt Chaser was not enough for Candis to finish ahead of me.
Candis: We ran this race with 2 other couples that we’ve been friends with for many years. The two guys were given permission for a one time butt-smack if they could pass me. They could not :) he he.
Ian: The Skirt Chaser course was an out and back course which meant that you could wave at and taunt the other runners as you went.
Candis: It also meant that you could see the winners coming back to the finish- not that I was still at the finish when they came back...
The first men passed the waning women at 0.3 miles. Holy crap, how is that possible? Unfortunately I’m no good at math while I run, and I gave up trying to calculate their pace at 0.5 miles.
Ian: You’re no good at math at ANY time.
Candis: It was quite demoralizing, but then right before the turnaround point, 3 women blazed back passed us. Women cheered like we’d just gained suffrage. Still no men to be seen... yet. It was like I was winning, but not.
Ian: It was demoralizing to see the lead runners so far ahead but I took comfort in the fact that once I made the turn at the halfway point I could start demoralizing the other, slower runners. After the turnaround point I would try to make eye contact with the other runners and then look at my watch and shake my head in disgust. I hope they were all demoralized.
Speaking of demoralized my goal had been to take all your advice from Friday’s comments and start fast. I was hoping to post a 7:30 first mile, but found out while running that most of the first mile was uphill.
Candis: I didn’t really notice that it was that much of a hill.
Ian: “Oooh, look at me I didn’t notice the hill.” Whatever. After maybe a quarter mile at a 7:45 pace I changed my strategy mid-race, which is never a good idea.
Candis: You know what else isn’t a good idea? Telling your husband that he looks sexy in that lucky blue race shirt. Seriously honey, wear something different.
Ian: Ignoring you. Knowing that I would have a fast downhill finish I slowed to an 8:00 minute pace. My final splits were 8:03, 8:05 and 7:46. It worked out for the best, but meant that I wouldn’t catch Candis until after the halfway point.
Candis: As I got closer to 1.55 miles I started to get nervous. Pre race farts again. (Can I say that?) My stomach knotted. I knew he was coming. I took one look over my shoulder and then decided it wasted hundredths of a second that I didn’t have. I picked up the pace and made the turn before Ian. Shortly after the turn I spotted him coming the other way and decided that it would be best if he didn’t notice me because it would surely give him a boost if he saw how close he was but then... “Ian!” I blurted it out before I could stop it. Oops.
Ian: I heard a familiar voice and saw Candis across the street already on her way back. It did give me a boost of speed to know that I had almost caught her. I rounded the turn and began reeling her in
Candis: I picked it up to 9:00 minute pace despite the fact that we were going uphill. Was he there yet? I was waiting for a smack on the butt I knew was coming. It was taking too long...
Ian: I began to close in on Candis at the 1.8 mile mark and decided to encourage rather than taunt. “Good job babe, keep it up!”
Candis: The first thing I heard was his familiar breathing... (keep your mind on track) who was he to be supportive? Why was he being sweet before the smack?
Ian: She took off in a dead sprint, trying in vain to outrun me for a few more seconds.
Candis: “Stay back there!” I screamed. Women cheered.
Ian: I matched her sprint for only a few strides, but it hurt too much and felt like too much energy so I let her go. She was fending off my advances well.
Candis: I’ve had a lot of practice, I’ve been doing it for 16 years now.
Ian: I knew she couldn’t keep it up for long.
Candis: I sprinted until my throat screamed. My ego told it to shut up. Then my legs reminded us that we still had another hill left and that Ian is faster by nearly 2 minutes/mile. Here’s the math again. I can’t tell you what it is, but if he waited 3 minutes to start and caught me at 1.8 miles then I wasn’t beating him to the finish.
Ian: I did the same math, only a little more accurately and settled back into my pace, it was inevitable that I’d catch her. I wasn’t going to kill myself for it right now.
Candis: I’d lost- I knew I would- and it still sucked. I wasn’t quite as dejected as I thought I’d be. It’s not like it was close. I knew I could still make my sub 30 time, and did.
Ian: I passed her at the 1.9 mile mark amid cheers from all the women around us for her to beat me. Whatever. The love tap on the butt turned into a little more of a grab than a tap. What can I say, I’m handsy.
Candis: Great. Some women marry men that are handy, but I manage to get a guy that’s handsy. Figures.
Ian: At this point I had passed every member of our group except one. Carl and his wife were behind me as was the other guy (we’ll call him Bert), but Bert’s wife (we’ll call her Foghorn Leghorn- inside joke) was still ahead of me. I plowed ahead in an attempt to catch Foghorn Leghorn but knew that it would be tough.
I pushed myself as hard as I could down the hill to the finish. My Garmin indicates that my final tenth of a mile was at a 5:40 pace which is just ridiculous for me. I didn’t see Foghorn Leghorn until I crossed the finish line and noticed her standing up ahead of me in the chute. Chicked!
Candis: he he :)
Ian: The official results indicate that she beat me by 6 seconds. I’ll hang my hat on the fact that she technically ran the same distance 2 minutes and 54 seconds slower than me.
Candis: What happened after you crossed the finish line?
Ian: I’m getting to that. Literally seconds after I finished, even before I saw Foghorn Leghorn ahead of me in the chute I crossed the Puke Threshold. It was a bizarre feeling. I’ve never actually puked after or during a run, but doubled over in the chute I found myself staring at my Gatorade-stained lunch splattered on the street.
Candis: Changing the subject, this was hands down my favorite race ever. Usually Ian & I start together and I lose sight of him at .005 miles in a cloud of dust. The focus of this race was very unique and it made it a great diversion to my ‘two sports too many’ training (more on this later). This night was all about speed, great friends (who usually don’t race with us- so it was fun), and great post race food. Well, almost. The beer sucked.
Ian: Dale’s Pale Ale. I’m not sure why Dale hates us so much but I couldn’t even drink the beer, and it was free.
Candis: Well done Skirt Sports. Thanks to Nicole & Tim DeBoom (more on them later). They put on a very exciting and well planned event. Loads of fun, just when I needed to remember why I like racing.
Ian: Unfortunately, I never found P.O.M. or Christine, but I did meet up with Simon from RunColo which was cool. Be sure to check out all of their blogs for more on the Skirt Chaser. My wife has rambled on long enough for this post.

History In The Making?

History is written by the winners. You don’t often hear about guys who issued a challenge and then failed to live up to it, but that just makes this post unique. What I’m trying to tell you here is that I’m not the winner. I’m the loser. While I did set a new PR this past weekend at the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon, I failed to best Viper’s time of 1:54:49. It was the most disappointing PR I’ve ever set.

I needed to average an 8:46 pace to beat Viper’s PR and what’s really frustrating is that I was on pace to do it for a while. Here’s a fun little game that you can all play at home: I’ve listed my splits below, see if you can figure out when my quads decided to lock up tighter than Fort Knox.

Mile 1 - 8:52
Mile 2 - 8:43
Mile 3 - 8:31
Mile 4 - 8:22
Mile 5 - 8:45
Mile 6 - 8:23
Mile 7 - 8:33
Mile 8 - 8:54
Mile 9 - 8:53
Mile 10 - 8:50
Mile 11 - 9:34
Mile 12 - 9:33
Mile 13 - 9:30

If you said mile 11, you win! Give yourself a pat on the back. At the end of mile 10 I was starting to slow a little but was still averaging an 8:41 overall pace and feeling like I’d be able to push myself in the final miles. Shortly after the water stop at mile 10 my quads just ceased up. I tried pushing through it, I tried changing my stride, I even stopped and tried to stretch for a few seconds. Nothing worked. My pace dropped to 9:30 in the final 3 miles and I couldn’t find speed anywhere within myself. I crossed the finish line in 1:56:45 (8:55 pace), a PR by over 3 minutes. Not nearly enough of an improvement considering that it’s been almost a year since my last half marathon.

I offer no excuses for my suckitude, and I’ll gladly take my lumps in the comments. I opened the trash talking last week and came up short, I guess I know how the French 4x100m Freestyle Relay Team feels.

Congrats to Viper who smashed my 10K PR with a blistering 50:48. I’m actually glad that he beat me because if we’d have both failed it would have just been pathetic. Despite my vows in the final 3 miles to give up running forever, I find myself resolving to train faster and longer in the upcoming months in that never-ending quest for self improvement - it’s one of the reasons that I really hate running. Running, I wish I could quit you.

Future Races?

I really don’t run a lot of races, I figure by giving myself several months between races I have a better chance of continuing my streak of always running a PR at every race. Recently though, two additional races were brought to my attention, one by a reader and one by my own astuteness and I think that they deserve some consideration.

The first race for consideration is the Four on the Fourth 4K, an Independence Day celebration. Huge thanks to Q, the devastatingly fast reader who e-mailed me to tell me about this race. This 4K is sponsored by Avery Brewing Company, and the overall winners will earn their weight in beer as a prize, which brings up an interesting dilemma if you think you’re capable of winning the whole thing. Do you try to gain weight so that you can win more beer or do you cut weight so that you can increase your pace and thus your chances of winning the beer? Fortunately, it’s not a dilemma that I have to worry about. However it is worth noting that each of the age group winners also win a case of beer. If ever there was a time for my first age group win then this is it.

The only reason that I might have to pass on this race (other than snooze-button-overuse) is because I am waiting to find out if I get invited to play in a US vs England soccer match that I played in last year on July 4th.

The next race up for consideration is the Denver Gorilla Run, those of you who voted that I should do the slip ‘n’ slide (90% of you) will like this one because you have to run dressed as a Gorilla. It’s a 5.6K but other than that I don’t know much about it. Apparently the proceeds go to the Mountain Gorilla Conservation Fund to benefit the Mountain Gorillas, probably by building them new schools and providing them text books or something. Anyway, they give you a Gorilla suit and you get to keep it! I’ve always wanted to own my own gorilla suit so if I participate in this race it will be one more thing that I can cross off my bucket list. Prizes are awarded for Highest Fundraising Gorilla, First to Finish, Furthest Traveled Gorilla and Most Creative Gorilla costume (i.e. what you add to your monkey suit to make it stand out). I’m thinking The Vanilla Gorilla costume is a shoe-in for first place. Shoes! I bet the proceeds go towards new shoes for the gorillas.

The most likely hindrance to me participating in this event is the high entry fee ($150). I guess that’s attributable to the gorilla suits that they give out and the rising cost of gorilla text books. The best thing about both of these races, other than an excuse to keep calling everyone a “damned dirty ape,” is that I have never run a 4K or a 5.6K (who has?) which means that they would both be PRs by default. Anytime you can guarantee yourself a PR just by completing an event, that’s a good thing.

Mission Accomplished!

Bolder Boulder 10K Race Report
Do you guys remember last week when I said that my goal for the Bolder Boulder was to run it in under 52:08? Well, guess what? I totally made it! I finished in 52:07! (8:24 pace.) Mission accomplished! If you don’t remember me setting that goal, then just take my word for it. No need whatsoever to go back and check that post to confirm what my stated goal was.

I was going to have to run an unprecedented race to achieve my pipedream of a 50 minute 10K, and 52:07 is a new PR so I’ve got that going for me. As a point of reference I ran the Bolder Boulder last year in 56:00 and that was a PR at the time. So while I didn’t get down to 50, I’m still happy with my time (I’m just going to keep telling myself this). Sometimes in life you have to lower your expectations, and when you’re me, you have to do it a lot. I’m still planning on breaking the 50 minute mark before the end of this year which means I’ll have to look for another 10K to run, and of course if that doesn’t work I’ll lower my expectations some more and try to break the 50 minute 8K or the 50 minute 5K before the end of the year. By the time all is said and done I’m confident that I’ll achieve all of my goals for the year. I’m a positive Type A personality like that.

The Race
When we arrived at the start it was a cloudy 53 degrees, a perfect day for running, and an even perfecter day for sleeping in and sitting in front of the fireplace with coffee and a donut. Unfortunately we were doing the former. We sorted through the jumble of humanity in search of the mobile lockers. Runners wandered between packet pickup, registration and port-a-potties before being funneled through the starting gate; a scene that must have looked like a sausage being stuffed from the helicopter above. In line for the mobile lockers my friend pointed out two girls preparing to run in tie dye shirts and their underwear, the words “couldn’t find pants” written on their legs. It took a good amount of ogling to determine the message, but it needed to be done so that this race report could be accurate. You. Are. Welcome. When I saw them again in my wave I knew that I had found my pace team.

The gun fired and I immediately ditched my spouse and went off on my own, something she should have done a long time ago. I managed to reign myself in a little over the first mile or two which was one of my goals for this race. Too often I have gone out fast in the first couple of miles and then faded towards the end, but this year I am pleased to report that I went out slow in the first 2 miles... before fading towards the end.

Somewhere around mile 2, I saw the Slip ‘n Slide and I noticed that it ended in a huge muddy puddle at the bottom of the yard. I quickly evaluated the situation and ran right on by, knowing that I would just have to disappoint my dear readers. It was a surprisingly easy decision and one that I did not feel remotely guilty about. Hey, if you’re not used to me disappointing you on a regular basis yet, then you’re not a regular reader.

I ran on, thinking about how I would break the news that I had failed to Slip ‘n Slide. I decided that I was going to title this post DNS and then explain that it stood for Did Not Slip ‘n Slide, it was going to be great. However, half way through mile 3 I came across another Slip ‘n Slide with no mud in sight, I built up a head of steam and dove headlong into sopping misery. I popped up at the far end amidst raucous cheers and high fives from the college students who were already completely Winehouse’d in spite of the fact that it was 8:00 in the morning. My wet clothes clung to me and the shock of the ice cold shirt sapped the air from my lungs. My breath came in short gasps and my heart thumped loudly against my ribcage. I slowed my pace and tried to ring out my shirt as best as I could. On the positive side my legs were so cold that they no longer felt tired.

I tried to push the pace in miles 4 and 5, even waving off the friendly gentleman offering bacon and veggie bacon, before my ritual fade on the hill to the finish in mile 6. Side note: Veggie bacon? Welcome to Boulder. Vegetables can never be bacon, they just can’t and they shouldn’t even try. The stadium finish was fantastic, and I’m really not that upset about missing my goal; one of the benefits of a life spent aiming low, I suspect.

Candis finished in 1:05:12 shattering her previous PR of 1:13:30, but there’ll be more on that later. We didn’t spend much time in the stadium due to the fact that it was still chilly and I was wearing wet clothes and shivering like a paint shaker. For your enjoyment, here are my official splits:

Mile 1 - 8:25
Mile 2 - 8:28
Mile 3 - 8:31
Mile 4 - 8:20
Mile 5 - 8:15
Mile 6 - 8:25
Total: 52:07

8 on the 8th

Warning: Half-Fast not responsible for hours lost staring into those steely blue eyes.
I awoke on Saturday ready to run 8 miles only to find it cold and snowy. I almost bagged the whole idea in favor of hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies in front of the fire. I wish I would have. Instead I drove to a 1.4 mile loop that circumnavigates a small lake near my house, strapped on my Garmin and commenced operation crazy.

When I began the first lap at 10am mine were the only footprints to blemish the pristine snow that covered the loop. A fresh start. Here I was being a hardcore runner and there was no one around to witness it, nevertheless I was excited to be alone with my thoughts. Alone with the exception of my digital training partner, whom I’ve decided to name Gustavo. (Thanks to Doug for that suggestion.) I set Gustavo out at an 8:50 pace as I was hoping to complete the run in 1:10:00.

Roughly one tenth of a mile into the run I noticed that my right shoe had a fairly large rock jammed into the cavity in the heel. Just my dumb luck I chuckled to myself and stopped quickly to pry it out. What I discovered was not a rock, but a snowball. As I ran the snow would press up into the cavity in the heel (see Figure 1.1) until it was full, at which point the snow on the ground would stick to the snow packed into the cavity and cause a buildup. It was like trying to run in heels that were getting progressively taller with each step, or at least what I would imagine it’s like to run in heels. Despite the fact that I felt like a saucy minx for wearing “heels” I was convinced that this was not a healthy way to run 8 miles.

Strangely enough, this snowball effect was occurring mostly in my right shoe. I tried everything to stop it, I tried landing more on my forefoot, I tried stopping and scrapping it out with a stick, I tried to ignore it, I tried cursing like a sailor on leave which didn’t abate the problem but it sure made me feel better. In the end the only solution was to thump my heel down hard into the gravel path under the snow and then drag my heel. This seemed to work to clear it out, but I ended up having to do this every 50 yards. For 8 miles. I considered quitting many times, and even now while I write this I do not know why I didn’t. Trust me, it’s totally in my personality to just give up and quit when the going gets tough, but for some reason I hung in there on Saturday.

Figure 1.1

As I began my final lap, I noted that my footprints had been joined by a few others. One jogger, and a couple of walkers who had no doubt puzzled over the man with the epileptic twitch in his stride. The path which had once looked like a fresh white canvas was now forever ruined by the punch marks in its surface, the scars of a frustrated runner etched into it by my spastic heel-dragging routine.

My Garmin beeped signaled that I had completed the 8 miles. My final time was 1:13:11 for a pace of 9:09. Gustavo had long since finished. He was already at home in front of my fireplace, drinking my hot cocoa, eating my cookies.

Thanks to Nancy for putting this together, you can visit her blog to see everyone’s final times. It was fun. Honestly. Also, Mizuno running shoes suck!

Wind, I Hate It

Colder Bolder 5K Race Report

I knew that it was going to be cold on Sunday while I was attempting to PR at the Colder Bolder 5K, but I had no idea that it was going to be so windy. I HATE wind. It was 34 degrees outside and the average wind speed was 13mph with gusts registering speeds upwards of 28mph.

For those of you that are unfamiliar with the Colder Bolder it consists of 13 separate races. Each of the first 12 races are invitational races where runners are invited to participate based on their Bolder Boulder 10K time from earlier in the year. The 13th race is an open race for runners who didn’t run the Bolder Boulder. I guess that’s how an open race works. I was invited to the 10th race which was for runners who finished the Bolder Boulder between 56:00 and 57:59. The idea is that everyone can be competitive in each of the races, but looking at past results it seemed that there were always a few runners in each race that were somewhat ahead of the curve.

I stood at the line with 65 other runners, none of whom had run the Bolder Boulder any faster than me (56:00) 6 months earlier. I had set myself a goal of running an 8:00 minute mile pace and I felt like I should be able to stay with the front runners. When the air horn sounded it was evident that all 65 runners felt the same way and we all started out faster than Thanksgiving shoppers bursting in to Target at 6am. After a quarter mile I checked my Garmin to reveal that we were running at a 6:24 minute mile pace! To be quite honest I didn’t even think I was capable of running at that speed. I slowed down and watched droves of runners overtake me. At that point I was probably in 40th place and I decided to focus on beating my PR instead of beating all the other speedsters out there.

At the half mile mark we turned a corner and were met head on with a gusting wind and slight hill. All of a sudden we were back to being the slower runners that we were supposed to be. Somewhere in Antarctica Heinz ketchup was flowing out of a bottle at a faster pace than we were moving. We ran into a headwind for most of mile 2 and even though I didn’t feel like I was moving very fast I found myself passing a lot of seemingly winded runners.

I ended up finishing 15th in my race with a time of 25:56 which is a new PR. My splits were reflective of the headwind we faced: 8:11 – 9:02 – 8:11. I was hoping for something a little better, but I’ll take it given the circumstances.

When we got home from the race I got up on the roof and put up our Christmas lights, we’re going with blue this year. (Just like the last 5 years.) Once the lights were up I was starting to feel pretty chilled and I knew that it was time for an ice bath, Half-Fast style.

Cheer Team Vanilla once again braved the cold for the opportunity to ring their cowbells.

Daddy didn’t get to the podium but Cheer Team Vanilla is #1 (and #3).

All you can eat hot pancake breakfast = Why we run.

An Extra Hour You Say?

I hope that everyone took advantage of the time change over the weekend, and I don’t mean by just getting an extra hour of sleep. What better way is there for a runner to enjoy that extra hour other than to be running. Better yet, to be PR-ing. Think about the possibilities here, time doesn’t just stand still, it rewinds.

Like most of the great ideas that I have this one came to me too late to matter, but let me outline the plan for next year. I will head out for my run at 1:50 am without using a watch to time myself but rather I will simply note the time on my cell phone (because it updates to the time change automatically). Assuming that I haven’t gotten any faster I will complete a 13.1 mile run in roughly 2 hours. However, when I finish and look at my cell phone to determine how long it took me I will see that the current time is 2:50 am and my awesome powers of deduction will reveal that I have just run a half marathon in 1 hour! That’s a new PR by almost a full hour! Hooray for me!

Join me next year as I attempt to PR during the time change. When you get into the office on Monday and everyone’s talking about how they liked that extra hour of sleep or how they hate that it gets dark so early, you can be the one who actually has something interesting to share.

If there isn’t already some kind of organized race that takes advantage of the time change then there should be. They could call it the ‘Sprint Forward at Fall Back’ or the ‘Half-Fast Half Marathon’ since it was my idea. I could totally BQ if they were taking an hour off my time.

Every Race a PR

I started running 2½ years ago and in that time every race that I have run has been a new PR. It’s really not as impressive as it sounds, but that doesn’t stop me from boasting about it to everyone who’ll listen without adding any kind of disclaimer whatsoever. Why is this accomplishment unimpressive? In the first 2 years of my running career I only ran 3 races, the 2005, 2006 and 2007 Bolder Boulder 10K. It really shouldn’t be a surprise that I was able to get faster each time after having a full year to train for it. Since the last Bolder Boulder I have run 2 other races, both at new distances (a 5K and a Half Marathon) so both of those were PRs by default.

Nevertheless, I will continue to boast about running a PR in every race I’ve ever run ever ever in my whole entire life ever. At some point in time this streak will end. Perhaps it will end in 6 weeks when I run the Rudolph’s Revenge 10K, especially if there is snow on the ground, or perhaps it will end in next year’s Bolder Boulder. As I begin to run more races I will have to find new ways to claim a PR. For example if I fail to PR in the Rudolph’s Revenge 10K I can call it my Winter 10K PR. This article suggests that we should have different PRs for many different situations. A winter PR, a summer PR, a road race PR, a trail race PR, PRs for each different course you run, PRs for each different type of weather you run in, PRs for each different type of sports drink that was served during the race, PRs for a course that is a loop, PRs for courses that are point-to-point. I may have a 10K PR in a race that served Gatorade that is different from my 10K PR in the race that served Accelerade.

Come December 15th I’ll be running the Rudolph’s Revenge 10K in which I’ll hope to set a new 10K PR for myself in a winter race where the temperature is between 40 and 50 degrees, where Gatorade is served, on a course that is an out-and-back loop, consisting mostly of hills, that starts at 10:00am, at an altitude of 5446 feet. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I think it’s a virtual lock that I PR. High Five!

Slippery When Wet

Denver Half Marathon Race Report

Editors Note: This is going to be a long post, so grab a cup of coffee, sit back and relax with your feet up. Tell your secretary to hold all calls and ask your boss to come back at a better time.

I was the only runner not smart enough to wear long sleeves.

I stood with the huddled masses, shivering at the start as the rain drizzled down around us. It was 41 degrees and I was leaning close to the other runners, soaking up as much of their heat as I could. As we breathed into our hands and bounced to keep warm it struck me as ironic that only a week ago runners in Chicago were faced with overwhelming heat and not enough water. In Denver there was so much water it was falling from the sky.

I was stuck at the back of the pack on account of my bladder deciding that it was too full just minutes before we were called to the start. I can see the 9 minute pace corral way up ahead of me but I can’t get to it. It’s OK because my race strategy is to run at a slower pace for the first 4 miles and put myself 2 minutes behind the required pace for a sub 2 hour half marathon. After mile 4 I intended to pick up the pace and make up those 2 minutes over the next 9.1 miles.

The gun goes off and a minute later I’m shuffling towards the start I put my headphones in and select my Denver Half Marathon playlist. I eventually cross the start and immediately find myself leaping over discarded sweatshirts, pants, rain jackets, ponchos, trash bags with arm holes, and even a pair of underwear. I guess they were chafing someone. It only takes a mile for me to become completely soaked which is a relief. I enjoy running in the rain, it’s just the initial getting wet part that sucks. Now that I’ve got that out of the way I can focus on my race.

At 3 miles I check my watch and find that I’m already 2 minutes behind the pace for a sub 2 hour marathon so I begin to increase my tempo. At this point I’m quite happy about the slow start as I have NEVER been able to start a race slowly and then speed up, I’m apparently more of a start-quickly-and-fade guy.

Just past Mile 4 Cheer Team Vanilla is waving, yelling, taking pictures and ringing those annoying cowbells. Who got those things for them? Not only did they stand out in the rain and meet me at the finish they were also willing to carb load with me the night before. Way to take one for the team. Shortly after this point my bladder (which I’m thinking about having removed) decided that it needs to be emptied again, but it will have to wait.

Having already run through the first two water stops without taking any liquids I decide that I had better grab some at mile 5 despite my bladder’s continued pleas to be emptied. By mile 6 I’m running through city park, where I am no longer sheltered by the high rise buildings. The wind is biting through my wet clothes and I pretty sure that my nipples could cut glass at this point. I check my watch and I’m only 1 minute behind a sub 2 hour pace, which means that I’m making up time nicely. I reach out to take a Clif Shot and the girl hands me three. I glance at the flavor to see what I’ve been handed and it’s Vanilla. It may sound stupid, but cold and wet and 6 miles deep into a half marathon I felt like it was a sign. It was like the sun was bursting through the clouds and angels were singing “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” Only there was no sun, only rain. I downed one of the shot gels, put one in my pocket for later and tossed the third one back towards the girl who’d handed it to me.

By mile 7 I wasn’t paying attention to my MP3 player, I wasn’t thinking about how cold or tired I was. I was simply weighing the pros and cons of peeing my pants. The fact that running can put you in a situation that allows you to even consider this as a viable option is probably grounds for quitting. My shoes were already soaked, and if my shorts would have been wet enough to hide it I would have probably just peed myself.

I reached mile 8 and had almost dropped back to 2 minutes off the pace again. I was extremely disheartened and began to doubt my ability to finish in under 2 hours. Mile 9 had a couple of tough uphill sections and I felt sure that my pace had fallen again. The rain and cold got to me and I decided to stop and pee in Cheesman Park. Hoping to take no more than 15 seconds I found a nice bushy tree, I ducked under the branches and... Holy Shrinkage Batman! 45 seconds later I was back on the course and feeling much better.

‘Come on Vanilla’ I told myself, and yes I actually said Vanilla instead of Ian, because I was trying to remind myself that I’d have to blog about how I failed. I don’t know if it was the fact that I was carrying 7 less pounds of urine or if the 45 second break recharged me, but I was running strong. There was a hill at mile 10 but I didn’t even feel it, I was passing people like they were volcanic lava. I passed mile 11 without looking at my watch, it didn’t matter, I was just running. I grabbed a Gatorade and splashed it up my nose and down my front, it didn’t matter. I was running, I was Forrest Gump.

At mile 12 I did look at my watch: 1:50:06. All I needed was a 9 minute pace. I felt like I was on the verge of achieving my goal. I was willing myself to the finish. With less than a half mile to go I was only conscious of my legs as those weights beneath my hips. I crossed the finish line and stopped my watch at 1:59:42. Initial feelings of disbelief turned momentarily to elation and pride before giving way to uncontrollable shivering and icy pain.

Tomorrow I’ll have some more pictures and more on the post race thaw. Update: Here

Ka-Chow! Race Report

The Chamber Challenge 5K
Candis and I stood poised at the start. There were maybe 200 entrants and we were somewhere around the middle of the pack. I'm disappointed to discover that the guy dressed as the Chik-Fil-A cow is not running, and he appears to be the only person in a costume. Well him and some other guy who's dressed in drag... no... wait... that's really a woman. Eeesh! An official looking man is talking over the loud speaker but we can't hear him through the wind and excited chatter of the crowd. Searching for a mantra to use, the first thing that comes to mind is "Speed. I am speed. Faster than fast. Quicker than quick. Float like a Cadillac, sting like a Beemer." That's from the movie Cars for those of you that don't have kids, and yes, my boys have been watching it a lot lately.

Hey, where's everyone going? The front group of runners is already leaving and I didn't even hear a starter's pistol. I give Candis a quick kiss for luck (aww, that's so sweet!) and we head out. I had debated running with her and pacing her, but she told me I didn't have to, and since I am worthless at picking up on non-verbal hints I leave at my own pace.

I finish the first mile in 8:40. The McMillan Running Calculator had predicted an 8:41 pace for me, it's annoyingly accurate. If I can just plug numbers into a website and find out how fast I am what's the point in actually running? Why not forget about running the Denver Half Marathon and just let McMillan give me my PR for that distance too?

Somewhere around mile 2 a couple of ladies pass me, one of them is wearing a running skirt that looks a lot like mine, and the other one has an abnormally large caboose for a woman of her stature. Seriously, baby got back! I determine that I'm going to keep up with them and pass them before the finish, but I'm starting to feel a little out of breath and I let 'Skirt' and 'Caboose' get too far ahead of me.

We enter the final stretch of the race and move from a concrete golf-cart path onto grass as we circumnavigate the driving range. Judging by the clumps of fresh clippings it has recently been mowed, but it is still very thick and spongy. It's like running on a bouncy castle and even though I try to ignore the small piles of grass mulch, I still find myself bobbing and weaving like they were the gates of a slalom course. What's wrong with you? This is going to slow you down! I can't seem to stop myself though.

I finally force myself to look ahead, ignoring the grass I see 'Caboose' right in front of me, her pace has slowed considerably. The finish is close and it's time for me to turn it up a notch. I pass her and scarcely manage to keep myself from taunting her with "unhitch the trailer," but I can't conceal a smile. 'Skirt' is not too far ahead and as she turns a corner she motions for 'Caboose' to hurry up and come join her. Oh, hell no! I'm not about to get 'chicked' this close to the finish. I push the pace even harder, and not only does 'Caboose' not catch me, but I even outkick 'Skirt' to the finish in what felt like a full out sprint. The Eat Mor Chikin cow is trying to high five everyone as they finish and in my head I'm thinking how funny it would be to tackle him at full speed. I decide against it because I'm pretty sure that assaulting the mascot results in immediate forfeiture of your post race meal, and if I can't have the food then what's the point in even running a race in the first place?

Official results have not been posted yet but according to my watch I finished in 27:03 which is a PR by default (first official 5K race) and equates to an average pace of 8:43 per mile. Ha! Take that McMillan Running Calculator, you were off by 2 seconds per mile. I'll post the official time and some race pictures when they become available, and I'm still hopeful that Candis will write her own race report which I'll post here.

Bolder Boulder Race Report

Here I am with my wife in the stadium after the race.

Editor's Note: This is a pretty long post. I had a lot I wanted to say. Sue me. Sometime around dark-thirty yesterday morning my wife rolled over and started pushing me out of bed, it was time to get up and go run the Bolder Boulder Memorial Day 10K. Our kids stayed at their grandparents house last night which means that this is a prime opportunity to sleep in! If you don't have kids then you have no idea how cruel this is. It's kind of like when your favorite charity needs a big screen TV so you go out and buy them a state of the art flat screen. Yeah it's a great TV, better than yours even, but you don't get to use it and you're the one who's out 6 grand. I'm told that I'm supposed to feel good about helping others or something. Whatever. Being munificent isn't making my picture look any sharper. OK so it's not at all like that, but there's apparently some kind of irony thing going on. Eh, maybe I'm just in a bad mood because, who gets up this early on Memorial Day? To go running? I'm beginning to question my sanity.

First thing I notice is that it's hot. I'm going to estimate that it was around 97 degrees in the shade despite the fact that all credible sources are saying it was 84 degrees at the start of the race.

Mile 1 - 8:34. I’m off to a quick start, out in front of my wave. I’m feeling good, feeling strong. There's a guy in a giant hot dog suit, emphasis on the word 'hot' and I'm guessing that he didn't try it on prior to running in it this morning because it comes down so low that with every step the foam suit bounces up off his calves until the armholes jam up into his armpits. As I pass him I notice that as the suit bounces his face disappears from the face hole too. I'm just about to tell him "man, that must suck," but he knows that. He doesn't need me to tell him.

Mile 2 - 9:07. I’m trying now to temper my enthusiasm and settle into my pace. Still feeling good, I pass a group of obese belly dancers standing outside a house 'entertaining' the runners. My eyes take a second before the horror sets in and I quickly move from one belly dancer to the next hoping to find something that looks a little less like cottage cheese and more like a flat stomach or a six pack. No, no, no, no, yes! There it is, a six pack of Coors Light tucked covertly under the lawn chair where one of the dancers is taking a cigarette break. Poor thing. She must be all tuckered out from shakin' what her mama gave her, or more aptly what McDonald's gave her.

Mile 3 - 9:15. We’re headed up hill and my quads are starting to burn. I try to keep pushing on at this pace. Some college students are trying to recruit runners to do the slip-n-slide in their yard. I gave it a thought, but chances are pretty good that once I got to the end of it I'd just lie in the cool puddle of not-running-bliss until someone rolled me out of the way.

Mile 4 - 9:07. I try to rest my legs on the short down hill portions and push myself on the up hills, but I can feel my pace slowing. Another group of chubby belly dancers are cheering runners on. What is going on? Did I get lost and run this street twice? Is it possible that there are two separate groups of "big-boned" belly dancers tormenting runners today? Answer: yes.

Mile 5 - 8:55. I start making my way over to the left side of the street in anticipation of the upcoming turn. Here it comes, it's a right turn! I have no idea where I am despite being pretty familiar with the area and having run this event the past 2 years. My mind can't put a coherent thought together right now. The heat is really getting to me. Don't think, just run.

Mile 6 - 9:20. My mantra has become "how bad do you want this" and my head is willing me to push on and to run faster. As we come up the final hill to the finish I feel a surge of energy return to my legs, I’m yelling a new mantra in my head “I DON’T FEEL NO HILL!” One of the runners next to me smiles as I pass her and says “great job, go get it,” it was at this point that I realized I wasn’t just saying my mantra in my head. I don’t care anymore, I’m feeling good again. I push myself up the hill and into the stadium where my 4 year old is waiting. I wave to him as I expend every ounce of energy to cross the finish line as fast as I can. A quick glance at my watch shows me 56:01 which is a personal record (PR) for me despite being a little higher than both my goal and my prediction. This is an unofficial time as the Bolder Boulder has yet to give out official times and splits. It might be time to call the new timing technology a massive failure since I was supposed to get my time and splits 20 minutes after finishing.

I'll try to write something about the post race expo and activities at some point in the next few days, but I think I've rambled on long enough for now. Also, my official time, splits and race pictures will be posted as they become available to me.

UPDATED: Official Time of 56:00. Splits added above.