Did Not Start. The Breckenridge Independence Day 10k was held on July 4th as the name would imply. It was only because I was so excited to do this race again this year that I was able to roll myself out of bed at 5:30am on a holiday morning after a night that I’m sure included some drinking but I honestly can’t remember how much. I quickly dressed and arrived at race registration around 6:15am groggy but somehow still energized to race. As I neared the front of the short line of runners I heard the lady at the registration table tell the runner in front of me that registration was closed. I remember laughing at this and I’m not sure now if it was because I thought she was joking or because my sleepy mind couldn’t clearly comprehend this horrendous new development. Either way it wasn’t funny for very long. The temporary registration table was folded up, the line dispersed and the world seemed to go on around me as I stood there in bleary-eyed disbelief. I mingled aimlessly with the other runners all the while feeling like I stood out because I was the only loser without a bib. Finally one of the ladies from the now defunct registration table came over and told me that “the trail’s all marked out if you want to go run it right now.” But I didn’t want to run it right now, I wanted to run it in 45 minutes with all the other runners. I came here for a race, not a time trial.
Without all of the adrenaline and energy that goes along with waiting for a race I became very aware of how tired I felt. I decided that what I needed was some coffee. Coffee soon turned into coffee and donuts and when I decided that I shouldn’t eat any more donuts I bought two dozen donut holes, or as I prefer to call them ‘little balls of heaven’ to take back to the friends with whom we were spending the weekend. Unfortunately not all of the little balls of heaven survived the trip.
When I got back to the place we were staying I found our kind hostess in the kitchen making a hot breakfast and so I traded in 18 donut holes for some eggs, bacon and hashbrowns and there might have been a pancake or two in there as well. I really don’t remember at this point, I just know that it was a good trade.
That’s how my Independence Day started, and it ended with the lamest fireworks display that you’ve ever seen. You can suck me sideways, Breckenridge!
Showing posts with label race report. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race report. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Pants, I Wear Them
Bolder Boulder 10k Race Report
Let’s get straight to the point. I’m still the top dog in this house. I’m still the hombre that wears the pants around here. I’m still the one calling the shots. I’m the lead dog, the head honcho, the big kahuna, the top banana, numero uno. When it comes to the Bolder Boulder I still finish before my wife, and yes I like to think that the clarification at the start of this sentence was necessary.
On Memorial Day weekend Candis and I ran the Bolder Boulder 10k in 57:07 and 53:28 respectively. For Candis it was a disappointing time, though still the second best time she’s posted in a 10k. For me it was a major relief, and coincidentally my second best time in a 10k. (Side note: I’m going to start using the term P2B to represent a Personal 2nd Best and I’m going to celebrate P2Bs with the same gusto that I normally reserve for PRs. After all, this is a sport in which we hand out finisher medals and that’s basically just the same as a participation medal. Maybe I’ll eventually start celebrating P3Bs and P4Bs too because that’s the kind of inspirational go-getter that I am!)
The Race
I pulled ahead of Candis in the early stages of the first mile and told myself that I would not turn and look back for her. The entire race I imagined that she was just a few paces behind me waiting to make her move but I didn’t want Candis to think that I was worried even though that’s the only thing that was keeping me going. Whenever I started to tire or slow down I imagined Candis surging past me and I found that visualization exercise to be quite motivational. In fact, I may make Candis run behind me in all my races from now on.
It wasn’t until I crossed the 6 mile mark and headed down into Folsom Field that I began to feel confident that Candis wasn’t going to catch me. I sprinted to the finish weaving in and out of slower runners until some guy accepted my challenge and we sped towards the tape, matching each other stride for stride. We crossed the line in a tie and gave each other a congratulatory handshake, and when I say that we tied I say that the same way a guy who’s just been dumped by the woman he loves says that the decision to end the relationship was mutual. I think in both situations you can probably read between the lines and see what happened but the classy thing to do is just agree with the guy that it was mutual. We finished the race mutually.
Finally, here is the updated chart of our times over the years. This is more for my enjoyment than anything else.
Let’s get straight to the point. I’m still the top dog in this house. I’m still the hombre that wears the pants around here. I’m still the one calling the shots. I’m the lead dog, the head honcho, the big kahuna, the top banana, numero uno. When it comes to the Bolder Boulder I still finish before my wife, and yes I like to think that the clarification at the start of this sentence was necessary.
On Memorial Day weekend Candis and I ran the Bolder Boulder 10k in 57:07 and 53:28 respectively. For Candis it was a disappointing time, though still the second best time she’s posted in a 10k. For me it was a major relief, and coincidentally my second best time in a 10k. (Side note: I’m going to start using the term P2B to represent a Personal 2nd Best and I’m going to celebrate P2Bs with the same gusto that I normally reserve for PRs. After all, this is a sport in which we hand out finisher medals and that’s basically just the same as a participation medal. Maybe I’ll eventually start celebrating P3Bs and P4Bs too because that’s the kind of inspirational go-getter that I am!)
The Race
I pulled ahead of Candis in the early stages of the first mile and told myself that I would not turn and look back for her. The entire race I imagined that she was just a few paces behind me waiting to make her move but I didn’t want Candis to think that I was worried even though that’s the only thing that was keeping me going. Whenever I started to tire or slow down I imagined Candis surging past me and I found that visualization exercise to be quite motivational. In fact, I may make Candis run behind me in all my races from now on.
It wasn’t until I crossed the 6 mile mark and headed down into Folsom Field that I began to feel confident that Candis wasn’t going to catch me. I sprinted to the finish weaving in and out of slower runners until some guy accepted my challenge and we sped towards the tape, matching each other stride for stride. We crossed the line in a tie and gave each other a congratulatory handshake, and when I say that we tied I say that the same way a guy who’s just been dumped by the woman he loves says that the decision to end the relationship was mutual. I think in both situations you can probably read between the lines and see what happened but the classy thing to do is just agree with the guy that it was mutual. We finished the race mutually.
Finally, here is the updated chart of our times over the years. This is more for my enjoyment than anything else.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
6 Seconds
The Crossroads Half Marathon Race Report
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
I am a passing machine
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 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!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
I’m a WINNER!
Guess which idiot blogger with a penchant for (unnecessary) parentheses and the Caps Lock key just won his age group at a local 5k this weekend? (((THIS GUY!!)))
That’s right folks, I am the proud new owner of a 1st Place medal in the Male 30 - 39 division. Moreover, Candis is the proud new owner of a 3rd Place medal in the Overall Female category. Yes, it was a small race, why do you ask?
Now that I’ve ruined the ending of this story, let me back up and start at the beginning. Late last week we discovered that Horizon High School was hosting the Hawk Hustle 5k to benefit their athletics department and we decided to support them and signed up at the last minute. One of the main selling points of this race was the fact that the high school is located no more than a quarter mile from our house and the race was being run on the paths that Candis and I run on regularly. With the race being so close we were able to sleep in until 8 o’clock on Saturday morning. I think that’s the latest I’ve ever been able to get up on a race morning. Candis went over to the school and brought back our bibs while I brewed us some coffee and took care of my other morning business.
As the Chik-fil-A cow fumbled with the starter’s pistol everyone seemed to shy away from being at the front of the starting crowd so I stepped up and toed the line. The cow finally figured out a way to fire the pistol without breaking character and we were off. I was feeling good and actually ran with the lead pack for about a half a mile, then I looked at my Garmin and noticed that we were at a 6:50 pace and I had to slow down. I ended up finishing 12th out of 103 people and of course, 1st in my age group. And before you ask, no I wasn’t the only person in my age group, there were 8 other guys racing in the 30 - 39 division. Candis finished about a minute and a half behind me as the 3rd overall woman and was 2nd in her age group.
My time was 26:03 which is a lot slower than I would have liked even taking into account that the course was actually 3.25 miles. Normally I’d be disappointed with a time like that since it seems to confirm that I’ve hit a plateau if not a downward trend, but I’m still beaming from finally winning an age group award. It was all that I hoped it would be! What can I say, sometimes the triumphs come when you least expect them.
That’s right folks, I am the proud new owner of a 1st Place medal in the Male 30 - 39 division. Moreover, Candis is the proud new owner of a 3rd Place medal in the Overall Female category. Yes, it was a small race, why do you ask?
Now that I’ve ruined the ending of this story, let me back up and start at the beginning. Late last week we discovered that Horizon High School was hosting the Hawk Hustle 5k to benefit their athletics department and we decided to support them and signed up at the last minute. One of the main selling points of this race was the fact that the high school is located no more than a quarter mile from our house and the race was being run on the paths that Candis and I run on regularly. With the race being so close we were able to sleep in until 8 o’clock on Saturday morning. I think that’s the latest I’ve ever been able to get up on a race morning. Candis went over to the school and brought back our bibs while I brewed us some coffee and took care of my other morning business.
As the Chik-fil-A cow fumbled with the starter’s pistol everyone seemed to shy away from being at the front of the starting crowd so I stepped up and toed the line. The cow finally figured out a way to fire the pistol without breaking character and we were off. I was feeling good and actually ran with the lead pack for about a half a mile, then I looked at my Garmin and noticed that we were at a 6:50 pace and I had to slow down. I ended up finishing 12th out of 103 people and of course, 1st in my age group. And before you ask, no I wasn’t the only person in my age group, there were 8 other guys racing in the 30 - 39 division. Candis finished about a minute and a half behind me as the 3rd overall woman and was 2nd in her age group.
My time was 26:03 which is a lot slower than I would have liked even taking into account that the course was actually 3.25 miles. Normally I’d be disappointed with a time like that since it seems to confirm that I’ve hit a plateau if not a downward trend, but I’m still beaming from finally winning an age group award. It was all that I hoped it would be! What can I say, sometimes the triumphs come when you least expect them.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Half-Fast Friday: Virtual Race Report
Shouldn’t a virtual race be one that I get to run virtually? You know like on Wii Fit or something? I feel like I was conned when I signed up for this thing. Nevertheless, last night I went out and ran an actual 6.66 miles as part of Razz’s GW,MA!6.66MR. My FIRST training schedule called for a 7 mile run last night (1 easy, 2 tempo, 1 easy, 2 tempo, 1 easy) and I certainly contemplated just running 6.66 miles as fast as I could but ended up sticking to the suggested pacing. Far be it from me to question the authority of FIRST.
Yes, that means that my virtual race had 2.66 miles of easy running sprinkled throughout it but I think that was necessary for the following three reasons: 1. You can’t boast about being faster than me because I was taking it easy. 2. I’m lazy. 3. It was important to show a certain amount of disdain for Razz’s virtual race and what better way to do that than by throwing in a few apathetic miles.
The Results: 6.66 miles in 59:12, that’s an 8:54 pace. Meh.
Because no race report is ever complete without some excuses I feel like I should also mention that I’m still getting over a cold so I didn’t have a lot of energy for this race and it was really windy and it was hilly and it was at altitude. Basically what I’m trying to say is that my race was tougher than your race, but good job on beating me if you did. Bully for you. Try to not let the fact that I was throwing in easy miles tarnish your victory.
Enjoy the weekend, everyone!
Yes, that means that my virtual race had 2.66 miles of easy running sprinkled throughout it but I think that was necessary for the following three reasons: 1. You can’t boast about being faster than me because I was taking it easy. 2. I’m lazy. 3. It was important to show a certain amount of disdain for Razz’s virtual race and what better way to do that than by throwing in a few apathetic miles.
The Results: 6.66 miles in 59:12, that’s an 8:54 pace. Meh.
Because no race report is ever complete without some excuses I feel like I should also mention that I’m still getting over a cold so I didn’t have a lot of energy for this race and it was really windy and it was hilly and it was at altitude. Basically what I’m trying to say is that my race was tougher than your race, but good job on beating me if you did. Bully for you. Try to not let the fact that I was throwing in easy miles tarnish your victory.
Enjoy the weekend, everyone!
Monday, October 19, 2009
So Much For My Happy Ending
The Denver Half Marathon Race Report
Wherein I run the juvenile ‘happy ending’ allegory into the ground.
Given the lack of training and motivation that I have displayed over the last several weeks my goal going into this race was to run at a leisurely pace and enjoy it. Candis had hoped to PR in this race but given that we’ve been passing the same cough back and forth for the last few days it was not in the cards. Seriously, between the two of us we left more phlegm and snot on the Denver Half Marathon course than should be legally allowed. If Denver area runners break out with some kind of epidemic over the next few days it will be entirely our fault.
Candis finished in 2:21:00 (a 10:46 pace) and I managed a relaxed 2:06:55 (a 9:41 pace). This is the first half marathon that Candis had run without me at her side and she is feeling good about the accomplishment despite missing a PR. As for me, I thought about running with Candis again this year, but as is often the case I was more concerned with getting to my happy ending than helping her reach hers.
The temperature at the start was a chilly 50 degrees (burrrrrrr!) so we had to huddle together until the starting gun went off. This kept us sufficiently warm and also kept the other runners sufficiently nauseated. We ran together for a couple of blocks before I ditched Candis and went off on my own. Throughout the course I was a high-fiving, cheering machine. If anyone wanted a high five, I swerved over and gave them one (usually right after I had finished coughing into my hand). If someone was holding up an encouraging sign I thanked them as I went by, even all the people holding the “your feet only hurt because you’re kicking so much asphalt” signs which are both unoriginal and serve only to remind me that my feet are hurting.
I arrived at mile 9 enjoying myself and feeling pretty strong. Somewhere in my head a part of my brain kicked in to gear and ran some quick (and incorrect) calculations. “Hey, if you run the last 3 miles at an 8:15 pace you can still break 2 hours!” And so I sped up, hoping to get my happy ending after all and not realizing that my math was horrendously incorrect or that there were actually 4 miles left, not 3. My aspirations were fugacious (word of the day, anyone?) as I quickly realized that I would not be finishing in under 2 hours. I slowed down and went back to spreading cheer. Mostly cheer, with only a few germs mixed in. So much for my happy ending.
Look at these happy runners, surely they didn’t just post PWs?
Wherein I run the juvenile ‘happy ending’ allegory into the ground.
Given the lack of training and motivation that I have displayed over the last several weeks my goal going into this race was to run at a leisurely pace and enjoy it. Candis had hoped to PR in this race but given that we’ve been passing the same cough back and forth for the last few days it was not in the cards. Seriously, between the two of us we left more phlegm and snot on the Denver Half Marathon course than should be legally allowed. If Denver area runners break out with some kind of epidemic over the next few days it will be entirely our fault.
Candis finished in 2:21:00 (a 10:46 pace) and I managed a relaxed 2:06:55 (a 9:41 pace). This is the first half marathon that Candis had run without me at her side and she is feeling good about the accomplishment despite missing a PR. As for me, I thought about running with Candis again this year, but as is often the case I was more concerned with getting to my happy ending than helping her reach hers.
The temperature at the start was a chilly 50 degrees (burrrrrrr!) so we had to huddle together until the starting gun went off. This kept us sufficiently warm and also kept the other runners sufficiently nauseated. We ran together for a couple of blocks before I ditched Candis and went off on my own. Throughout the course I was a high-fiving, cheering machine. If anyone wanted a high five, I swerved over and gave them one (usually right after I had finished coughing into my hand). If someone was holding up an encouraging sign I thanked them as I went by, even all the people holding the “your feet only hurt because you’re kicking so much asphalt” signs which are both unoriginal and serve only to remind me that my feet are hurting.
I arrived at mile 9 enjoying myself and feeling pretty strong. Somewhere in my head a part of my brain kicked in to gear and ran some quick (and incorrect) calculations. “Hey, if you run the last 3 miles at an 8:15 pace you can still break 2 hours!” And so I sped up, hoping to get my happy ending after all and not realizing that my math was horrendously incorrect or that there were actually 4 miles left, not 3. My aspirations were fugacious (word of the day, anyone?) as I quickly realized that I would not be finishing in under 2 hours. I slowed down and went back to spreading cheer. Mostly cheer, with only a few germs mixed in. So much for my happy ending.
Monday, August 31, 2009
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 washoping 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.
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
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.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Ooof!
Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon Race Report
Let’s play a little game where you guess why this race report is getting posted so late. Is it:
a) Because I suck.
b) Because it is deftly written prose with many clever turns of phrase and witty observations and it takes time to craft such beauty in writing.
c) Because I posted a new Personal Worst.
d) Because I don’t want to talk about it.
e) Because I was keeping you in suspense to build up my page views.
f) Because the first race report I wrote was so whiny and unbearably depressing to read that I just outright deleted it and had to start over.
g) All of the above.
If you took the easy way out and answered g) All of the above, then you’re wrong because b) clearly isn’t true. The correct answer is actually secret answer h) which is ‘all of the above except for b).’
Yes, it’s true. I put the ‘race’ in disgrace and managed to post a new Personal Worst! My time was 2:04:33 (9:31 pace). I won’t waste your time with excuses and explanations about why I failed spectacularly because I don’t really have any. The weather was just about perfect, the course was great, and I didn’t do anything stupid the night before. The only thing I can think of is that I had this Detour Runner bar that I was saving for my pre-race breakfast, but Candis ate it a couple of days prior to the race. I don’t even think she was running at the time, she just did it to spite me so I ended up eating plain old toast instead. Hence, the new PW.
There are a number of frustrating things about this new low, the first of which is that I’m not even sure I can put my finger on what went wrong. Somewhere around mile 8 or 9 my legs started getting really stiff and I just couldn’t keep them going at my desired pace. I even tried envisioning Kara Goucher, who is undefeated at the half marathon distance, but all that did was make other things stiff and further hinder my running. Perhaps I should have envisioned her running?
The second thing that is frustrating about this recent crapping of the bed is that it clearly signals that I have managed to get slower this year. (Perhaps you would expect nothing less from a site named Half-Fast.) This year I have run a 10K, a 5K and now a half marathon at slower pace than I ran them last year. One slow result is a bad day, two are an uncanny coincidence but three bad races in a year are a stinging belly flop into the realization that I’m slower. Join me won’t you? The water’s warm. I’m taking failure to all new levels and I can’t even argue that these results were due to tough courses because the 10K and the half that I ran this year were on the same courses where I PR’d last year. It’s like I have no excuse (except for that breakfast bar thing, I’m holding on to that one), I’m just slower. Fortunately I continue to get handsomer and handsomer with age so I’ve still got that going for me.
I’ll wrap up this race report here because I can feel it starting to head the same way the first attempt went (which is straight to the bottom of the nearest bottle) and I really am far too lazy to write it up a third time.
Let’s play a little game where you guess why this race report is getting posted so late. Is it:
a) Because I suck.
b) Because it is deftly written prose with many clever turns of phrase and witty observations and it takes time to craft such beauty in writing.
c) Because I posted a new Personal Worst.
d) Because I don’t want to talk about it.
e) Because I was keeping you in suspense to build up my page views.
f) Because the first race report I wrote was so whiny and unbearably depressing to read that I just outright deleted it and had to start over.
g) All of the above.
If you took the easy way out and answered g) All of the above, then you’re wrong because b) clearly isn’t true. The correct answer is actually secret answer h) which is ‘all of the above except for b).’
Yes, it’s true. I put the ‘race’ in disgrace and managed to post a new Personal Worst! My time was 2:04:33 (9:31 pace). I won’t waste your time with excuses and explanations about why I failed spectacularly because I don’t really have any. The weather was just about perfect, the course was great, and I didn’t do anything stupid the night before. The only thing I can think of is that I had this Detour Runner bar that I was saving for my pre-race breakfast, but Candis ate it a couple of days prior to the race. I don’t even think she was running at the time, she just did it to spite me so I ended up eating plain old toast instead. Hence, the new PW.
There are a number of frustrating things about this new low, the first of which is that I’m not even sure I can put my finger on what went wrong. Somewhere around mile 8 or 9 my legs started getting really stiff and I just couldn’t keep them going at my desired pace. I even tried envisioning Kara Goucher, who is undefeated at the half marathon distance, but all that did was make other things stiff and further hinder my running. Perhaps I should have envisioned her running?
The second thing that is frustrating about this recent crapping of the bed is that it clearly signals that I have managed to get slower this year. (Perhaps you would expect nothing less from a site named Half-Fast.) This year I have run a 10K, a 5K and now a half marathon at slower pace than I ran them last year. One slow result is a bad day, two are an uncanny coincidence but three bad races in a year are a stinging belly flop into the realization that I’m slower. Join me won’t you? The water’s warm. I’m taking failure to all new levels and I can’t even argue that these results were due to tough courses because the 10K and the half that I ran this year were on the same courses where I PR’d last year. It’s like I have no excuse (except for that breakfast bar thing, I’m holding on to that one), I’m just slower. Fortunately I continue to get handsomer and handsomer with age so I’ve still got that going for me.
I’ll wrap up this race report here because I can feel it starting to head the same way the first attempt went (which is straight to the bottom of the nearest bottle) and I really am far too lazy to write it up a third time.
Monday, August 3, 2009
It’s Just a Hill... Get Over It!
Granby Gut Buster 5K Race Report
This past weekend we joined Candis’ parents at their cabin in Grand Lake, CO for a little R and R, which stood for Running and Racing. As luck would have it Saturday was the 21st Annual Granby Gut Buster 5K in the nearby town of Granby and even though I have the Georgetown half marathon this coming Saturday I was itching to race and too impatient to wait 7 more days. So on Saturday morning Candis, David (age 6) and I all headed out to test our mettle on the race course while Graham (age 4) decided to stay at the cabin and test his Grandparent’s mettle.
As we drove to the race I daydreamed that I was crossing the finish line with a new PR, breaking the tape and being showered with roses from adoring fans. I was rudely jarred out of my daydream by a roadside sign that read ‘Welcome to Granby, Elev. 7982.’ My confidence in a PR slipped a little. It slipped a little more when we registered and were handed our race shirts that had a picture of a runner on a mountain with the slogan: ‘It’s Just a Hill... Get Over It!’ I was disheartened to notice that there were a lot of steep hills around us. However, there appeared to be fewer than 100 participants and I figured that might lead to the elusive age group award that I’ve been chasing for some time now.
In the first mile of the race we did indeed run up a steep hill, which was followed by more steep uphill sections. Seemingly around every turn we were faced with another uphill climb and I was feeling winded from the lack of oxygen and from starting out way too fast. The good news was that this course was a loop, so I knew that the downhills were coming.
As we started the downhill section of the course I was no longer thinking about a PR, instead I was keeping my eye on the people around me and attempting to stay ahead of the guys who looked to be in their 30s. I was OK being passed by anyone that wasn’t competing in my age group until somewhere in mile 2 I was passed by an 11 year old girl wearing Kinesio tape on her calves. Oh crap! This would not do. I hung on a few steps behind her, determined not to let her get away from me.
We hit the final mile and I was still hanging on. As we made our way around a hairpin turn we were able to see the runners trailing us and I noticed a guy not far behind me that looked to be in his 30s. He was clearly trying to steal my age group award and I would have none of it. I pushed the pace and tried to ignore my distressed breathing. My push away from the age group award thief put me closer to Kinesio tape girl and I used my momentum to get past her, but I failed to pass with authority and could hear her settle in a few yards behind me.
As we came down the penultimate stretch before turning to the finish we ran past Kinesio tape girl’s father who I later learned is a High School track coach. He was screaming at her like an overbearing parent to start her finishing kick and to run like this was the final 200 meters, despite the fact that we still had over a quarter mile to go. I heard her footfalls quicken and she began closing the gap. (I can actually feel you all rooting for her as I type this.) I waited until she was right on my shoulder before starting my own kick and I separated from her again, but a quick glance at my Garmin revealed we had a quarter mile to go. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold this pace for that long and hoped against hope that she would fade before I did. She did not. As I started to slow down she bounded past me, apparently unaffected by fatigue. I thought briefly about summoning one more surge, one more kick, but I decided against it because I was fast approaching the puke threshold and the only thing worse than a 33 year old man losing to an 11 year old girl would be for him to lose and then puke his guts out at the finish line. Plus, I didn’t want to be the guy that let his competitive spirit get out of hand and outkicked the sweet little blond girl, crushing her spirit in defeat. At the same time I didn’t want to be the guy that got beat by an 11 year old girl, but that’s the guy I ended up being.
I crossed the line with a time of 24:53 (8:01 pace), missing my PR by 25 seconds. I stood at the finish with no PR and having just been beaten by an 11 year old girl. The only thing that was going to save this race was if I finished in the top 3 in my age group. Seriously, in a small mountain town with roughly 88 racers how many males could there possibly be who were in their 30s and faster than me? I won’t keep you in suspense. The answer to that question is 3, there were 3 men faster than me in their 30s who showed up that morning which left me off the podium.
I wallowed in the post race cookies which were pretty good (although they tasted vaguely like failure and disappointment) and waited for my son to finish his first ever 5K. When he crossed the finish line with Candis in 42:30 I was so proud of him that all of my shortcomings were completely erased. His splits were 15:48, 13:27, 12:19.
A cotton T-shirt? Rookie!
This past weekend we joined Candis’ parents at their cabin in Grand Lake, CO for a little R and R, which stood for Running and Racing. As luck would have it Saturday was the 21st Annual Granby Gut Buster 5K in the nearby town of Granby and even though I have the Georgetown half marathon this coming Saturday I was itching to race and too impatient to wait 7 more days. So on Saturday morning Candis, David (age 6) and I all headed out to test our mettle on the race course while Graham (age 4) decided to stay at the cabin and test his Grandparent’s mettle.
As we drove to the race I daydreamed that I was crossing the finish line with a new PR, breaking the tape and being showered with roses from adoring fans. I was rudely jarred out of my daydream by a roadside sign that read ‘Welcome to Granby, Elev. 7982.’ My confidence in a PR slipped a little. It slipped a little more when we registered and were handed our race shirts that had a picture of a runner on a mountain with the slogan: ‘It’s Just a Hill... Get Over It!’ I was disheartened to notice that there were a lot of steep hills around us. However, there appeared to be fewer than 100 participants and I figured that might lead to the elusive age group award that I’ve been chasing for some time now.
In the first mile of the race we did indeed run up a steep hill, which was followed by more steep uphill sections. Seemingly around every turn we were faced with another uphill climb and I was feeling winded from the lack of oxygen and from starting out way too fast. The good news was that this course was a loop, so I knew that the downhills were coming.
As we started the downhill section of the course I was no longer thinking about a PR, instead I was keeping my eye on the people around me and attempting to stay ahead of the guys who looked to be in their 30s. I was OK being passed by anyone that wasn’t competing in my age group until somewhere in mile 2 I was passed by an 11 year old girl wearing Kinesio tape on her calves. Oh crap! This would not do. I hung on a few steps behind her, determined not to let her get away from me.
We hit the final mile and I was still hanging on. As we made our way around a hairpin turn we were able to see the runners trailing us and I noticed a guy not far behind me that looked to be in his 30s. He was clearly trying to steal my age group award and I would have none of it. I pushed the pace and tried to ignore my distressed breathing. My push away from the age group award thief put me closer to Kinesio tape girl and I used my momentum to get past her, but I failed to pass with authority and could hear her settle in a few yards behind me.
As we came down the penultimate stretch before turning to the finish we ran past Kinesio tape girl’s father who I later learned is a High School track coach. He was screaming at her like an overbearing parent to start her finishing kick and to run like this was the final 200 meters, despite the fact that we still had over a quarter mile to go. I heard her footfalls quicken and she began closing the gap. (I can actually feel you all rooting for her as I type this.) I waited until she was right on my shoulder before starting my own kick and I separated from her again, but a quick glance at my Garmin revealed we had a quarter mile to go. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold this pace for that long and hoped against hope that she would fade before I did. She did not. As I started to slow down she bounded past me, apparently unaffected by fatigue. I thought briefly about summoning one more surge, one more kick, but I decided against it because I was fast approaching the puke threshold and the only thing worse than a 33 year old man losing to an 11 year old girl would be for him to lose and then puke his guts out at the finish line. Plus, I didn’t want to be the guy that let his competitive spirit get out of hand and outkicked the sweet little blond girl, crushing her spirit in defeat. At the same time I didn’t want to be the guy that got beat by an 11 year old girl, but that’s the guy I ended up being.
I crossed the line with a time of 24:53 (8:01 pace), missing my PR by 25 seconds. I stood at the finish with no PR and having just been beaten by an 11 year old girl. The only thing that was going to save this race was if I finished in the top 3 in my age group. Seriously, in a small mountain town with roughly 88 racers how many males could there possibly be who were in their 30s and faster than me? I won’t keep you in suspense. The answer to that question is 3, there were 3 men faster than me in their 30s who showed up that morning which left me off the podium.
I wallowed in the post race cookies which were pretty good (although they tasted vaguely like failure and disappointment) and waited for my son to finish his first ever 5K. When he crossed the finish line with Candis in 42:30 I was so proud of him that all of my shortcomings were completely erased. His splits were 15:48, 13:27, 12:19.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Coming to grips with the pain... and then glory!
[by Candis]
I want to be careful with this post not to come off as a poor sport or even worse an emasculating wife, however I think that we all know that Ian would have already devoted several posts to gloating had he won. But he didn’t, so I know that you’ll all join me in saying: Haaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Up until last Monday I didn’t think I’d ever actually catch up to Ian, but the gap between our 10K times went from 13 minutes last year to 5 minutes this year and to be completely honest with you I think he’s lost a step.
TRAINING
Races are won and lost in training and I am totally hooked on the FIRST plan. If you’re not sick of hearing Ian & I talk about it then you haven’t been here very long... just wait, you’ll get there. You only run 3 times a week, omitting easy runs which I hate anyway, they’re as useless as a banker in a financial crisis. (Too harsh?) Each run has a specific purpose and is rarely less than 4 miles. You calculate ambitious paces using complex algorithms and spend 12 weeks mostly missing them. For several years now, it has been quite effective for both of us, although obviously more so for me. I think my edge has come in the addition of other training. I am now training for my second sprint triathlon- which means I bike and swim several times a week whereas Ian only ever bikes to our friends house 2 blocks away and would rather [insert just about anything here] than swim. These disciplines have added muscles I didn’t get from running and have done a good job of removing evil fat. The more muscle you have the more efficient you are- muscles propel- fat just jiggles.
Like cramming for an exam, I ate super healthy for 2 weeks before my race and only consumed 2 glasses of wine over 10 days. This was spurred by this chart on runner’s world. WOW. I dropped 4 lbs like nothing when I removed alcohol, sugar, limited my portions and ate useful foods. Who knew? RunnersWorld.com has some really helpful nutrition articles for those of us who know little about it. Use these articles to get started.
Having given all of this training advice, I am not an expert on any of it, nor do I have any authority to speak on it. It’s never stopped me before, but if it doesn’t work for you then you must have done something wrong.
RACE
All that blabbering and now the actual race report. The Bolder Boulder has always been our favorite race. Because this race is such a big deal for us, my adrenaline is always at an all time high on race morning. This year I planned to start at my goal pace and hold it throughout the course instead of speeding up at the end. For most training runs I try to run negative splits when possible, but that would have made my final miles way too fast. So this year my adrenaline rush got me through miles 1 & 2.
SHUT UP AND RUN WOMAN!
Beyond mile 2 took a little more work. My biggest problem in races has been my head. I talk myself out of what I can actually do. Ian’s been telling me for years I’m underachieving. My head says “Aw, it’s too painful.” “You’re breathing too hard.” I recently read that pain is often made up in your brain and not even real. It is amazing the things our brains can control. I have come to grips with the pain of speed and decided to run through it aided by the GI Jane quotes in my playlist. It’s also a matter of how much you want it, the more I want it, the less I care about the pain. I kept telling myself it wouldn’t even hurt 5 minutes after I finished.
The race felt much shorter this year. It was shorter, 6 minutes shorter to be exact. This really helped. Even though I was in more pain, it didn’t last as long. Knowing the course also helped. Surprises in races get in my head, but this year I ran the tangents and was really happy to know what was coming. Hills seem easier if I know how long they’ll last.
I knew I had run as hard as possible because I almost hurled on the metal floor in the stadium stretch- I believe Viper calls this the puke threshold. This happened in the Skirt Chaser 5K last year and was my best time. It is now my standard. No dry heaves = too slow of a race.
The last mile (9:09) was slower than I wanted to finish but I was really happy with my time, 58:52. I love to sprint it out and beat 3 people at the end- like I just won the whole thing. This time it was just an even pace, oh well. I finished. I cried. I tried not to be giddy around Ian. Then I drank a bucket of frozen margaritas.
I want to be careful with this post not to come off as a poor sport or even worse an emasculating wife, however I think that we all know that Ian would have already devoted several posts to gloating had he won. But he didn’t, so I know that you’ll all join me in saying: Haaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Up until last Monday I didn’t think I’d ever actually catch up to Ian, but the gap between our 10K times went from 13 minutes last year to 5 minutes this year and to be completely honest with you I think he’s lost a step.
TRAINING
Races are won and lost in training and I am totally hooked on the FIRST plan. If you’re not sick of hearing Ian & I talk about it then you haven’t been here very long... just wait, you’ll get there. You only run 3 times a week, omitting easy runs which I hate anyway, they’re as useless as a banker in a financial crisis. (Too harsh?) Each run has a specific purpose and is rarely less than 4 miles. You calculate ambitious paces using complex algorithms and spend 12 weeks mostly missing them. For several years now, it has been quite effective for both of us, although obviously more so for me. I think my edge has come in the addition of other training. I am now training for my second sprint triathlon- which means I bike and swim several times a week whereas Ian only ever bikes to our friends house 2 blocks away and would rather [insert just about anything here] than swim. These disciplines have added muscles I didn’t get from running and have done a good job of removing evil fat. The more muscle you have the more efficient you are- muscles propel- fat just jiggles.
Like cramming for an exam, I ate super healthy for 2 weeks before my race and only consumed 2 glasses of wine over 10 days. This was spurred by this chart on runner’s world. WOW. I dropped 4 lbs like nothing when I removed alcohol, sugar, limited my portions and ate useful foods. Who knew? RunnersWorld.com has some really helpful nutrition articles for those of us who know little about it. Use these articles to get started.
Having given all of this training advice, I am not an expert on any of it, nor do I have any authority to speak on it. It’s never stopped me before, but if it doesn’t work for you then you must have done something wrong.
RACE
All that blabbering and now the actual race report. The Bolder Boulder has always been our favorite race. Because this race is such a big deal for us, my adrenaline is always at an all time high on race morning. This year I planned to start at my goal pace and hold it throughout the course instead of speeding up at the end. For most training runs I try to run negative splits when possible, but that would have made my final miles way too fast. So this year my adrenaline rush got me through miles 1 & 2.
SHUT UP AND RUN WOMAN!
Beyond mile 2 took a little more work. My biggest problem in races has been my head. I talk myself out of what I can actually do. Ian’s been telling me for years I’m underachieving. My head says “Aw, it’s too painful.” “You’re breathing too hard.” I recently read that pain is often made up in your brain and not even real. It is amazing the things our brains can control. I have come to grips with the pain of speed and decided to run through it aided by the GI Jane quotes in my playlist. It’s also a matter of how much you want it, the more I want it, the less I care about the pain. I kept telling myself it wouldn’t even hurt 5 minutes after I finished.
The race felt much shorter this year. It was shorter, 6 minutes shorter to be exact. This really helped. Even though I was in more pain, it didn’t last as long. Knowing the course also helped. Surprises in races get in my head, but this year I ran the tangents and was really happy to know what was coming. Hills seem easier if I know how long they’ll last.
I knew I had run as hard as possible because I almost hurled on the metal floor in the stadium stretch- I believe Viper calls this the puke threshold. This happened in the Skirt Chaser 5K last year and was my best time. It is now my standard. No dry heaves = too slow of a race.
The last mile (9:09) was slower than I wanted to finish but I was really happy with my time, 58:52. I love to sprint it out and beat 3 people at the end- like I just won the whole thing. This time it was just an even pace, oh well. I finished. I cried. I tried not to be giddy around Ian. Then I drank a bucket of frozen margaritas.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
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
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
- Start the marathon. - CHECK!
- Finish the marathon. - CHECK!
- Finish the marathon in an upright position. - CHECK!
- Finish the marathon with a time under 4 hours 30 minutes. - Close, I’m going to give myself a Semi-Check!
- Finish the marathon with a time under 4 hours 15 minutes. - Nope.
- Finish the marathon with a smile on my face. - CHECK!
- Finish the marathon with a time under 4 hours. - Hahahahahahahah, nope.
- Qualify for Boston - requires a time of 3:10:59 (my computer audibly chuckled when I wrote that). - Nope.
- Set a new marathon world record - requires a time of 2:03:58 or better. - Nope.
- 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 |
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
A Race for Remembering
Last year on Sunday morning, December 2nd I ran the Colder Boulder 5K and set my stubble time for the Shave Your 5K Challenge. Later in the evening, I found out that about the same time that I was running that race I had lost a good friend, if you were reading Half-Fast back then you may remember my post paying tribute to Jason Wenger. It seemed only fitting that I should remember him this year when I ran the race. So, this past Sunday morning Candis and I went and picked up Carl (Jason’s Brother-In-Law) and the three of us ran the Colder Bolder 5K wearing our softball jerseys. (Jason used to play on our softball team and the team has since been renamed JWengs in his honor, likewise the new jerseys have ‘JWengs’ emblazoned across the front, which is why we chose to wear them for this race.)
I don’t mean to bring down the usually jovial mood here at Half-Fast because I know you don’t come here for heart-wrenching, tear-jerking posts but this is my Colder Bolder 5K race report and I can’t talk about it without mentioning Jason. Now without further ado, onto the actual race report and some much needed juvenile humor.
The Colder Bolder is a series of invitational races based on your finish time from the Bolder Boulder 10K race in May. I was running my race at 9:10am, and Candis and Carl were running their race at 10:10am, giving me an hour to finish the 5K loop and take over kid watching duty from Candis and Carl.
The gun sounded and I was out of the gate at a 6:00 minute mile pace. This was due to the small field, the downhill start, and the fact that I knew Candis was around the first bend taking pictures. After a good solid minute I dropped back to a 7:45 minute pace which was my goal pace for this particular 5K, but like all goals I decided that it needed to be changed mid race. Actually I didn’t decide it needed to be changed, my lungs did. Entering the second mile I could not catch my breath, I felt like my lungs were the size of testicles at a Polar Plunge meeting.
Also slowing me down was the cotton softball jersey I was wearing. The temperature was in the 50s, and I was burning up. I was struggling to breathe and my jersey wasn’t breathing at all so somewhere in the midst of mile 2 I removed the jersey hoping that it would cool me down and improve my speed. (Note: I was not topless, I had a long-sleeved compression shirt on under the jersey.) Alas, taking off the jersey did not magically make me faster. I still found myself struggling to stay below 9:00 minute miles and my teeny, tiny lung-sticles were on fire.
I gave up on trying to PR and put the jersey back on, finishing in 25:26 (8:21 pace) and shaving exactly 30 seconds off my time from last year. None of us PR’d in this race, Candis came in at 30:13 and Carl finished in 32:22. I think that my apparent lack of lung capacity and inability to hold the pace I wanted was due to having taken a couple of weeks off from running to rest my injured knee. The race showed me that if I still plan on running the marathon in January then I had better get myself back into running shape quickly. I’ll be hitting the treadmill for some speedwork tonight (it’s snowy and icy outside today) and I’m back on the full training schedule effective immediately.
I don’t mean to bring down the usually jovial mood here at Half-Fast because I know you don’t come here for heart-wrenching, tear-jerking posts but this is my Colder Bolder 5K race report and I can’t talk about it without mentioning Jason. Now without further ado, onto the actual race report and some much needed juvenile humor.
The Colder Bolder is a series of invitational races based on your finish time from the Bolder Boulder 10K race in May. I was running my race at 9:10am, and Candis and Carl were running their race at 10:10am, giving me an hour to finish the 5K loop and take over kid watching duty from Candis and Carl.
The gun sounded and I was out of the gate at a 6:00 minute mile pace. This was due to the small field, the downhill start, and the fact that I knew Candis was around the first bend taking pictures. After a good solid minute I dropped back to a 7:45 minute pace which was my goal pace for this particular 5K, but like all goals I decided that it needed to be changed mid race. Actually I didn’t decide it needed to be changed, my lungs did. Entering the second mile I could not catch my breath, I felt like my lungs were the size of testicles at a Polar Plunge meeting.
Also slowing me down was the cotton softball jersey I was wearing. The temperature was in the 50s, and I was burning up. I was struggling to breathe and my jersey wasn’t breathing at all so somewhere in the midst of mile 2 I removed the jersey hoping that it would cool me down and improve my speed. (Note: I was not topless, I had a long-sleeved compression shirt on under the jersey.) Alas, taking off the jersey did not magically make me faster. I still found myself struggling to stay below 9:00 minute miles and my teeny, tiny lung-sticles were on fire.
I gave up on trying to PR and put the jersey back on, finishing in 25:26 (8:21 pace) and shaving exactly 30 seconds off my time from last year. None of us PR’d in this race, Candis came in at 30:13 and Carl finished in 32:22. I think that my apparent lack of lung capacity and inability to hold the pace I wanted was due to having taken a couple of weeks off from running to rest my injured knee. The race showed me that if I still plan on running the marathon in January then I had better get myself back into running shape quickly. I’ll be hitting the treadmill for some speedwork tonight (it’s snowy and icy outside today) and I’m back on the full training schedule effective immediately.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Gorilla Ice Ice Baby
Last weekend I played the role of awesome, supportive husband when I ignored my own race goals and my marathon training schedule and ran the Denver Half Marathon with my wife, pacing her and catering to her every need. This weekend was payback as I sent her all over town looking for items to complete my Gorilla Ice costume for the Denver Gorilla Run and then told her that I didn’t even like most of them. I then proceeded to get gorilla fur all over the house (seriously, that thing was shedding like a yeti vacationing in the Caribbean), and finally made her drag two tired little boys all around Denver so they could cheer for me.
The race was roughly 3.6 miles long and I had decided that I would try to take it easy on this run, mostly because I would be wearing a gorilla suit, but also because I was still hoping to get my 15 mile long run in. I ended up finishing somewhere around 36:22 with an average pace just north of 10 minute miles. It was a little slower than I had hoped for, but the effort that I put forth felt more like I had been running a 5K close to an all out pace. I kept my mask on for the first mile and then alternated between perching it on top of my head and pulling it back down over my face when I saw an official photographer. I didn’t feel at all guilty for not wearing the mask the whole way because there were some people that didn’t even wear it for the first tenth of a mile while others ran with their gorilla costumes stripped down to their waists. It was hot. The temperature was in the 70s and I was so hot that my teeth were even sweating.
At one point in the race we were forced to stop before crossing a busy street that had not been closed to traffic. There were a couple of traffic cops directing traffic and they stopped a group of us for at least a minute, normally I would have been upset about this, but this was a fun run for charity and at the time the forced break was welcome.
All in all it was a fun event. I managed to make a complete fool of myself as you will see in the video below and I got to meet up with Simon from RunColo who took 2nd place overall. If you want to know how it feels to be competitive then I recommend reading his account of the race. Congrats Simon!
The video below is me dressed up as Gorilla Ice dancing to, what else, Ice Ice Baby. I figured if I was going to be Gorilla Ice then I should at least try some dance moves. Steve in a Speedo has on a couple of occasions posted videos of himself dancing as the Grim Reaper and he inspired me to give it a try. Perhaps in the future I’ll challenge Steve to a virtual dance off (challenging him to a foot race is out of the question, he’s fast) because the only thing lamer than a dance off, is a virtual dance off between two bloggers.
Crank up the volume and bask in the beautiful sounds of Vanilla Ice accompanied by the eye-gouge-inducing dance moves of Gorilla Ice. A couple of things to watch for: At the 46 second mark you can see me very nearly roll my right ankle, that would have been an embarrassing way to injure myself. At the 2:30 mark you’ll see Simon cruise by in a Hawaiian shirt and an orange headband.
High quality version available at YouTube.
The race was roughly 3.6 miles long and I had decided that I would try to take it easy on this run, mostly because I would be wearing a gorilla suit, but also because I was still hoping to get my 15 mile long run in. I ended up finishing somewhere around 36:22 with an average pace just north of 10 minute miles. It was a little slower than I had hoped for, but the effort that I put forth felt more like I had been running a 5K close to an all out pace. I kept my mask on for the first mile and then alternated between perching it on top of my head and pulling it back down over my face when I saw an official photographer. I didn’t feel at all guilty for not wearing the mask the whole way because there were some people that didn’t even wear it for the first tenth of a mile while others ran with their gorilla costumes stripped down to their waists. It was hot. The temperature was in the 70s and I was so hot that my teeth were even sweating.
At one point in the race we were forced to stop before crossing a busy street that had not been closed to traffic. There were a couple of traffic cops directing traffic and they stopped a group of us for at least a minute, normally I would have been upset about this, but this was a fun run for charity and at the time the forced break was welcome.
All in all it was a fun event. I managed to make a complete fool of myself as you will see in the video below and I got to meet up with Simon from RunColo who took 2nd place overall. If you want to know how it feels to be competitive then I recommend reading his account of the race. Congrats Simon!
The video below is me dressed up as Gorilla Ice dancing to, what else, Ice Ice Baby. I figured if I was going to be Gorilla Ice then I should at least try some dance moves. Steve in a Speedo has on a couple of occasions posted videos of himself dancing as the Grim Reaper and he inspired me to give it a try. Perhaps in the future I’ll challenge Steve to a virtual dance off (challenging him to a foot race is out of the question, he’s fast) because the only thing lamer than a dance off, is a virtual dance off between two bloggers.
Crank up the volume and bask in the beautiful sounds of Vanilla Ice accompanied by the eye-gouge-inducing dance moves of Gorilla Ice. A couple of things to watch for: At the 46 second mark you can see me very nearly roll my right ankle, that would have been an embarrassing way to injure myself. At the 2:30 mark you’ll see Simon cruise by in a Hawaiian shirt and an orange headband.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Denver Half Marathon
If you happened to stop by Half-Fast late on Friday or at some point over the weekend then you know that Candis and I ran the Denver Half Marathon on Sunday, and you also probably ought to find some more fun things to do on your weekends. Seriously, even I don’t stop by Half-Fast on the weekends (blatant lie). As you read on Friday evening, or whenever you stopped by (you loser) the plan was for me to pace with Candis since this was her first ever attempt at this distance.
Despite knowing better, we both decided that we needed new race shirts on Saturday evening so we headed down to the local running store and we both purchased some new shirts to run in. Fortunately there was no new-shirt chafing on Sunday morning. I bought a nice new neon yellow shirt that is actually painful to look at, because nothing screams “look at me, I crave attention!” like running in day-glo yellow. Unfortunately I chose not to run in this shirt on Sunday so you’ll have to wait until a later race for pictures. Your retinas will thank me.
After having read so much about negative splits lately, Candis wanted to try and use that strategy for the half marathon and printed out a customized pace band for me to wear so that I could keep us on track. The pace band indicated a final time of 2:17:15, and we crossed the finish line with an official time of 2:17:14 (10:28 pace). BAM! That’s how good I am at pacing! I brought Candis in 1 second under her ideal time. That’s why this post is not so much about how Candis ran her first ever half marathon, nor about how her fastest mile was her last, this post is all about me! I am a freakin’ awesome pacer. Seriously, just give me some balloons and add me to the Clif Bar Pace Team. If you want to hire me to pace you for your next event then be sure to let me know. All you have to do is pay my airfare (I prefer to travel first class), pay my hotel bill (a nice big suite), pay my race fees, and pay my “official pacer” fee (I’m thinking we’ll start this out at $1,000 and then increase it when the demand gets to be too high).
Candis ran a great race, but really how could she not when she had me at her side to pace her and give her unwanted advice. When we came to water stops, she ran on through and I slowed to get Gatorade and then caught back up to her (quite easily, I might add). I carried her sport beans and her inhaler and gave them to her whenever she needed them. I even took a picture of us running with my camera phone (see below). When someone got in her way I tripped them up, when someone tried to pass her I elbowed them in the throat, when someone tucked in behind us I assumed it was to stare at her butt and ran behind her to block the view. I was like a one man race support team, and I was good at it.
We crossed the finish line together and learned that Candis’ Dad had come down to watch us and we totally missed him. He was at the final turn before the finish and I think we were both in full tunnel vision mode by that point. We found him at the post race expo and thanked him for coming, I know it meant a lot to Candis that he came down to watch us. Candis has been downright giddy ever since. She just called me this morning at work and told me: “It’s Monday, the house is a mess, I’m cleaning, the boys are misbehaving, I’ve got a huge pile of laundry staring me down, but I just put my medal on and I couldn’t be happier.” It’s as though she’s proud of her accomplishment or something but I have to keep reminding her that it was really all because of me and my pacing.
Monday, September 8, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, August 11, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Ian's Next Half Marathon in 1:36:30!
[by Candis]Before I get to my race report let me do a very important projection for you...
Allow me to state Ian’s Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon goal. (Glad you started this?) Based on Ian’s Bolder Boulder 10k time of 52:07, the McMillan Running Calculator claims Ian could run a half marathon in 1:55:58 (an 8:52 pace). The Georgetown Half is ALL downhill... so we’ll subtract a minute off the pace for that (a 7:52 pace). Ten more weeks on the FIRST training plan? We can subtract another half minute from the pace for that (a 7:22 pace) making Ian’s goal time for the Georgetown half 1:36:30! Ha! Now when he blows the doors off his 1:59:52 PR with a 1:50 you won’t be impressed because I told you he could do better! Annoying isn’t it!
Being a seasoned, asthmatic runner of 2 whole years, I am beyond proud of my pace accomplishments. I’m becoming blazing fast! I’ve shaved 1 minute 20 seconds off my 10k pace and 47 seconds off my 5k pace! (My Colder Boulder 5k in December will astound you! You better get busy Shaving Your 5K!)
My Bolder Boulder goal was 1:06 (a 10:40pace). Ian knew I could do it although he claimed a one hour goal for me (sure). My biggest concern was feeling like crap. It’s an odd concern, but that’s how I felt last year when I first ran it. I had trained for 9 months, but I absolutely hated it and cursed the entire way. I finished by sheer will power (which I have little of) and knew I’d hate myself if I didn’t run the entire way. (Even though 1:13:31 feels like I was barely running.)
This time I was determined to kick some serious butt. I adopted the FIRST plan and forced myself off the hamster wheel. It totally worked. If you’re tired of hearing about the FIRST plan, then you’ll have to filter me. The Furman Institute of Running doesn’t pay me but they should. I am done with easy runs and running 5 times a week. 3 hard, to-the-point-of-failing runs a week, yup that’s for me.
My goal pace of 10:40 turned into an impressive 10:30 pace. Even more impressive and telling were my last 2 miles, both 10 minute miles. If I can run two 10 minute miles then in a few months I should easily be able to run 6.2 of them.
I should also mention that I’ve now been duped into running the Denver Half Marathon. Peer pressure I guess, I can’t seem to say no to Ian. [Ed. Note: Giggity, giggity!] He ran a 52 min 10k and I would have done anything he asked- too bad you wasted it on a race :) [Ed. Note: :( ]
Also of note... According to my scientific calculations I’ll be an elite runner in 2012 and we’ll retire on my winnings. Follow me on this, in one year I reduced my pace by 1:20 if I do that every year then I’ll be running a 5:09 pace by 2012. That would give me a 32:02 10K time, which would have easily taken first in the Elite Women’s race this year.
And because Ian didn’t post any of his pictures...
As if you care, here are my official numbers...Overall place: 21198
Division place: 293 out of 673
Gender place: 8620 out of 26287
Mile 1: 10:49
Mile 2: 10:54
Mile 3: 10:46
Mile 4: 10:43
Mile 5: 10:00
Mile 6: 10:01
Net time: 1:05:11 (Pace: 10:29)
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
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
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