Following my fiddy, it was all systems go. It wasn't nearly as tough as I thought to get up to that number. In fact, it was pretty easy. I wanted one more long run before I made my Pineland decision.
So, on a rainy morning, I snuck to The Brad for a real solid 23.5 miles in under 4 hours. Great run. Even better solo run. Route was simple: Scuffle, Breaker and the Bruiser without the Island or O Trails. It's the Not Quite Extreme Bradbury Bad Ass.
I ran the Scuffle very comfortably in an hour even and then got a little excited on the Breaker with a 1:35 split. Probably a touch faster than necessary, but really, why not? I actually ran everything on each lap except the final few strides to the summit. Then once across the street, I thought of turning in on the Link Trail near the end of the Mini-Bruiser, but that would have been lame. Finished the run with a 10:06 average, which I was pretty happy with. I was tired—that will happen after 4 hours of running—but no where close to spent. Great confidence boost. I was ready for the 50k.
Then I got sick. Horrible sore throat to start followed by a 100° fever on Friday. The cold, plague, whatever it was coincided with the height of my allergy troubles. I used a full roll of toilet paper blowing my nose on Monday. And, as I write this, I'm hopped up on all-manner of sinus relief medicine. I'm still pretty clogged up. I have run the last two days—easy, five milers. Legs have felt good, really good actually, but the sinuses are the real issue. With my history with asthma and allergies, I've sadly become pretty in-tune with my airways. I starting using an inhaler when I started running track. So, I'm a game time decision for Sunday. If I feel like my sinuses are clear enough, I'll give it a go. If not, I'm not interested in that death march. I know what it feels like, and I'm not going to put myself through that. More importantly, I don't want to prolong any illness and, therefore, recovery. Can you register for a 50k day of the race and do well? Hopefully, I'll get the chance to find out.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Training 5/8 - 5/14
Fiddy!
Onto the numbers...
5/8, Sunday: 18 - 2:42:24, Pineland. Kicked the week off right with a great run at Pineland. Goal was 18, but it was really a first test to see which race, if any, I'll be doing Memorial Day Weekend. Ran Oak Hill first, then the larger, lower loop (interrupted by a return to the car to drop a broken and leaking water bottle), then Oak Hill again. Averaged 9:10's or so for the first 13+, then pushed it down to around 8:30's for the final circuit of Oak Hill to simulate how I hope to finish a race. (Something I've never done at Pineland as that final trip around Oak Hill has always been a death march, regardless of distance.) Overall, the run went great, and I had plenty left in the tank by the end. Although, had you asked me how I was doing at 11 or 12, I wouldn't have had anything good to say. Something turned completely around as I was climbing up the Campus Loop to complete the large loop, and I felt terrific the rest of the way. Normally, I'd never chose to run at Pineland as I much prefer the singletrack of Bradbury or the Cathance River trails, but, mentally, it was necessary to attempt to get myself ready...for something...maybe...
5/9, Monday: 5 - 45:04, Homeplace Loop. Easy, recovery jaunt. Legs felt pretty good, but I was hungry and low on energy.
5/10, Tuesday: 8 - 1:09:38, 16x Mt. Ararat. Awesome to get back to my up and down circuits of Mt. Ararat. Even though it's only a bump, I did get about 1000' of vertical total, an average of 130' per mile, and a great strength workout. Legs felt good again, which is an awesome sign. Not sure how many laps I can mentally push this loop to, but it'll be fun to find out as the year goes on.
5/11, Wednesday: Off
5/12, Thursday: 9.25 total, 3.75-mile race, Great Glen Trails Spring Series. Eight-week, annual Spring Series started up, and I was looking forward to a little speed work. Although speed on these trails is hard to come by with a fair bit of climbing and singletrack. (Although, less singletrack than I would like on this year's course.) Pushed hard, but it was evident that I have done zero speed work as my turnover was closer to a danish than anything zippy. Final time was 26:48 (7:14 avg), which was a touch disappointing. Admittedly, my ribs were pretty sore from breathing so heavily. Running easy is one thing, but trying to pull in a ton of oxygen hurts like a mutha. Ran the course as a warm up, and tacked on 2.75 for a cool down.
5/13, Friday: 5 - 39:36, Highland Green. Easy spin through the neighborhood. Legs felt fairly springy, although I could tell the previous day's effort left a little junk in them.
5/14, Saturday: 5 - 43:05, Homeplace Loop. Pretty uneventful run, which is fine, but I felt a bit disinterested. One of those days.
Totals:
Miles: 50.25
Trail: 45.25
Road: 5
Stoked to be able to jump to fiddy miles so comfortably—plus, not a lot of easy miles in that mix. Sort of went after it this week to see how the body would handle it, and I'm pleased with the result. How will this translate to racing? Not sure yet. One final test coming on Monday—long run at The Brad—and then I'll make my decision on Pineland. Really, though, 6 weeks post-rib fractures, I can't complain. I never thought I'd be back to this state so quickly and had written off any racing until the Bradbury Scuffle in July. (Registration now open!) So, I'm pretty stoked to even have this decision to make. Really shows that my training at the beginning of the year was solid.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Training 5/1 - 5/7
What's this? A post? Better yet, a training post? Yup. You better believe it, suckas!
Just like that—well, slightly fewer dumbbells, but I am slowly getting my act back together. In fact, I could have actually written a post last week, as I did manage to get a "full" week of running. It only totaled 33 miles, but I'll take it just three weeks post-broken ribs. The week was highlighted by a 12-mile run at Bradley Palmer with D. She noted that I was "laboring a bit" near the end, and while I wasn't my usual easy, breezy, beautiful Cover Girl-self, I was pleased at how good I felt after a three-week stretch in which I took 16 straight days off and only ran a total of 9 miles in three very slow runs.
This week was more "real." Admittedly, I'd like to run one of the races at Pineland Farms at the end of the month, and I need to figure out the exact state of my fitness. You know, while attempting to beat myself back into shape. It's a flawless plan.
Onto the numbers...
5/1, Sunday: 5 - 40:52, Weldon Farm Loop. Nice easy recovery run from my parents' house with D. Well, it was supposed to be easy, but D kept dropping the pace trying to break me after the previous day's 12 on the trails. ;-) I was a bit tight but didn't feel all that bad.
5/2, Monday: 7 - 1:04:40, Brunswick Town Commons. The traditional route through the Commons is 5, so we cruised around some familiar and some unfamiliar singletrack. Unfortunately, most trails dead-ended, so no new loops were devised, but we did get to tromp through some mud. Legs felt fine.
5/3, Tuesday: 5.5 - 44:25, TMR TNR at Twin Brook. WOOT! Schedule worked out nicely for a rare TNR appearance for me, and it seems like each time I show up the group is bigger than the last time. Good stuff. Ran with Ian, Tom, Blaine, Red Meat and Jeff for most of the run, and the latter two certainly didn't take it easy on the pace in general or the guy with broken ribs during the sprint lines. Plus, I always forget about those damn things. "Where are you going!?!?!?" That being said, it was great to catch up with the group, and good to get muddy with them all. Pace was snappy, and my legs handled it nicely. Great run.
5/4, Wednesday: 7.5 - 1:19:04, Black Cap via Kettle Ridge Trail and Red Tail Trail w/ Kevin Tilton. More fortuitous scheduling found me in North Conway in the afternoon, and I made plans to meet Kevin for a run up Black Cap. It was raining steadily when I met Kevin at his office, and we were both a touch disappointed the other wasn't going to bail. One could question the wisdom of meeting up with a guy whose license plate reads "MTN GOAT" to run up a mountain under any circumstances, much less with broken ribs, but I figured he was too nice a guy to leave me dead on the side of the hill. Plus, I told him D knew where we were going and would hunt him down...or at least, I think she would. In any event, this was a really great run. I trailed Kevin the entire way, and we chatted about...what else?...running. The Kettle Ridge Trail was very runnable for the trip up, and we made it to the summit in 46:10, which wasn't too far off Kevin's easy pace. Of course, just as I asked him how we were doing on time, hoping I wasn't dragging him down, the trail pitched upward for the final push to the summit. I stopped chatting at this point, since we were now off my easy pace—in the opposite direction. I could definitely feel my ribs as I sucked wind the final few yards to the summit, and Kevin was nice enough to not laugh at me. Of course, he had promised me a view, and we were standing in a rain cloud. The trip down was just as sweet as the trip up, with the Red Tail Trail being equally runnable. My legs felt pretty good the whole way, even with the 1700' of gain and loss. Hopefully, we can meet up again, as I'd really like to get more mountain running mixed into my training.
5/5, Thursday: Off (planned).
5/6, Friday: 11 - 1:20:26, River + Meadow Cross Roads. 8 miles @ MP (7:08 avg.). Why are my quads sore today? From the finding out where I am category, this run was a bit of a test, and I'm pretty pleased with the result. The first three miles were easy (7:48 avg.) with the final 8 at marathon pace, which I guesstimated would be about 7:20. That's probably close to true marathon pace right now, so this run was more of a half marathon/20-mile pace run. But, the only time the pace felt tough was into the wind, which was strong in a few sections. And, really, it was nice to just open it up a bit. My core was a bit tired by the end, so the affects of the broken ribs were evident. That's not surprising, though. In short, I'll take it.
5/7, Saturday: 4.75 - 42:05, Homeplace. Easy recovery run. Quads still sore because Kevin is jerk and not from the previous day's run at all. Otherwise, pretty comfortable stroll along the trails and saw a ton of birds I couldn't identify.
Totals:
Miles: 40.75
Trail: 24.75
Road: 16
It's now been a full 5 weeks since the broken ribs, and I'm pretty happy to be putting in this type of training. More importantly, aside from the sore quads from Black Cap and the normal hamstring tightness I get with any mileage ramp up, I feel pretty solid. I can feel my ribs whenever I need to really pull in a big breath, but that's pretty much it. Getting in and out of bed still causes the most discomfort. Plan is to step it up again next week to continue to test things out. Going to be smart, but going to keep pushing.
No firm plans for racing, yet, however, and this timely quote on Anton Krupicka's blog sums up exactly how I feel right now:
"With regards to racing, all bets are off until I am once again healthy and confident in my fitness. I don't line up for an ultramarathon unless I feel I can do the event and the competition justice by delivering a meaningful best effort. So, you won't see me at a starting line unless I'm confident in my ability to do that; if you do see me on a starting line, you can be sure that I feel ready to rip."
I'll let you know when I'm ready to rip.
Just like that—well, slightly fewer dumbbells, but I am slowly getting my act back together. In fact, I could have actually written a post last week, as I did manage to get a "full" week of running. It only totaled 33 miles, but I'll take it just three weeks post-broken ribs. The week was highlighted by a 12-mile run at Bradley Palmer with D. She noted that I was "laboring a bit" near the end, and while I wasn't my usual easy, breezy, beautiful Cover Girl-self, I was pleased at how good I felt after a three-week stretch in which I took 16 straight days off and only ran a total of 9 miles in three very slow runs.
This week was more "real." Admittedly, I'd like to run one of the races at Pineland Farms at the end of the month, and I need to figure out the exact state of my fitness. You know, while attempting to beat myself back into shape. It's a flawless plan.
Onto the numbers...
5/1, Sunday: 5 - 40:52, Weldon Farm Loop. Nice easy recovery run from my parents' house with D. Well, it was supposed to be easy, but D kept dropping the pace trying to break me after the previous day's 12 on the trails. ;-) I was a bit tight but didn't feel all that bad.
5/2, Monday: 7 - 1:04:40, Brunswick Town Commons. The traditional route through the Commons is 5, so we cruised around some familiar and some unfamiliar singletrack. Unfortunately, most trails dead-ended, so no new loops were devised, but we did get to tromp through some mud. Legs felt fine.
5/3, Tuesday: 5.5 - 44:25, TMR TNR at Twin Brook. WOOT! Schedule worked out nicely for a rare TNR appearance for me, and it seems like each time I show up the group is bigger than the last time. Good stuff. Ran with Ian, Tom, Blaine, Red Meat and Jeff for most of the run, and the latter two certainly didn't take it easy on the pace in general or the guy with broken ribs during the sprint lines. Plus, I always forget about those damn things. "Where are you going!?!?!?" That being said, it was great to catch up with the group, and good to get muddy with them all. Pace was snappy, and my legs handled it nicely. Great run.
5/4, Wednesday: 7.5 - 1:19:04, Black Cap via Kettle Ridge Trail and Red Tail Trail w/ Kevin Tilton. More fortuitous scheduling found me in North Conway in the afternoon, and I made plans to meet Kevin for a run up Black Cap. It was raining steadily when I met Kevin at his office, and we were both a touch disappointed the other wasn't going to bail. One could question the wisdom of meeting up with a guy whose license plate reads "MTN GOAT" to run up a mountain under any circumstances, much less with broken ribs, but I figured he was too nice a guy to leave me dead on the side of the hill. Plus, I told him D knew where we were going and would hunt him down...or at least, I think she would. In any event, this was a really great run. I trailed Kevin the entire way, and we chatted about...what else?...running. The Kettle Ridge Trail was very runnable for the trip up, and we made it to the summit in 46:10, which wasn't too far off Kevin's easy pace. Of course, just as I asked him how we were doing on time, hoping I wasn't dragging him down, the trail pitched upward for the final push to the summit. I stopped chatting at this point, since we were now off my easy pace—in the opposite direction. I could definitely feel my ribs as I sucked wind the final few yards to the summit, and Kevin was nice enough to not laugh at me. Of course, he had promised me a view, and we were standing in a rain cloud. The trip down was just as sweet as the trip up, with the Red Tail Trail being equally runnable. My legs felt pretty good the whole way, even with the 1700' of gain and loss. Hopefully, we can meet up again, as I'd really like to get more mountain running mixed into my training.
5/5, Thursday: Off (planned).
5/6, Friday: 11 - 1:20:26, River + Meadow Cross Roads. 8 miles @ MP (7:08 avg.). Why are my quads sore today? From the finding out where I am category, this run was a bit of a test, and I'm pretty pleased with the result. The first three miles were easy (7:48 avg.) with the final 8 at marathon pace, which I guesstimated would be about 7:20. That's probably close to true marathon pace right now, so this run was more of a half marathon/20-mile pace run. But, the only time the pace felt tough was into the wind, which was strong in a few sections. And, really, it was nice to just open it up a bit. My core was a bit tired by the end, so the affects of the broken ribs were evident. That's not surprising, though. In short, I'll take it.
5/7, Saturday: 4.75 - 42:05, Homeplace. Easy recovery run. Quads still sore because Kevin is jerk and not from the previous day's run at all. Otherwise, pretty comfortable stroll along the trails and saw a ton of birds I couldn't identify.
Totals:
Miles: 40.75
Trail: 24.75
Road: 16
It's now been a full 5 weeks since the broken ribs, and I'm pretty happy to be putting in this type of training. More importantly, aside from the sore quads from Black Cap and the normal hamstring tightness I get with any mileage ramp up, I feel pretty solid. I can feel my ribs whenever I need to really pull in a big breath, but that's pretty much it. Getting in and out of bed still causes the most discomfort. Plan is to step it up again next week to continue to test things out. Going to be smart, but going to keep pushing.
No firm plans for racing, yet, however, and this timely quote on Anton Krupicka's blog sums up exactly how I feel right now:
"With regards to racing, all bets are off until I am once again healthy and confident in my fitness. I don't line up for an ultramarathon unless I feel I can do the event and the competition justice by delivering a meaningful best effort. So, you won't see me at a starting line unless I'm confident in my ability to do that; if you do see me on a starting line, you can be sure that I feel ready to rip."
I'll let you know when I'm ready to rip.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Race Recovery vs. Real Recovery
Following the Gator Trail 50k, I was a bit more sore than I would have liked. My quads were pretty trashed on Sunday, and when D and I forced ourselves to run on Monday...well, that 3-mile run was more painful than the race. My legs felt detached from the rest of my body. Thankfully, by Tuesday, I had a bit more spring in the step, even though I could still feel the quads. No other complaints in terms of soreness or tightness, so I really can't complain. A full week later, I'd say I was back to normal.
Recovery was going well, and I was starting to solidify my upcoming race plans. First up would be a true test of recovery with the Merrimack River Trail Race on April 9—a good 10-mile effort to see exactly where I was. From there, I had made plans for 7 Sisters on May 1, a good long run on May 8 (4 hours), and then my 50 mile debut at Pineland Farms on May 29. I was excited with this plan and was really excited to run my first 50. I had been secretly hoping/planning for Pineland for a couple months and had had it in the back of my mind throughout all my Gator Trail training. Mentally, I knew I was ready for 50 miles, and I believed I was physically. It was time.
On Sunday morning, April 3, I did an easy 5 miles and had to hold myself back from going to far or too fast. I was ready to open it up, and waiting until The Rivah felt like it was going to be tough. Then, that evening, everything changed.
Long story, short: I broke two ribs and punctured my lung. We were visiting friends, and I was playing with their three-year-old. We were goofing around, I picked him up and slipped on the hardwood floor. I landed hard on the right side of my back. (He landed on his head. He's fine.) I didn't immediately go to the hospital, but later that evening, when I couldn't get into bed, I knew that something was seriously wrong. In the ensuing 10 days, I've have 5 chest x-rays, 4 consultations with doctors and a couple dozens Percocets. None of that was in the plan.
I'm getting better with each passing day, but I can't run. In fact, today was the first day I could walk upright. The good news is that my lung is nearly healed, and I won't have any permanent damage. My ribs still need another 2 to 4 weeks to heal. I have no idea when I'll be able to run, much less resume training. Right now, it seems very far away.
Recovery was going well, and I was starting to solidify my upcoming race plans. First up would be a true test of recovery with the Merrimack River Trail Race on April 9—a good 10-mile effort to see exactly where I was. From there, I had made plans for 7 Sisters on May 1, a good long run on May 8 (4 hours), and then my 50 mile debut at Pineland Farms on May 29. I was excited with this plan and was really excited to run my first 50. I had been secretly hoping/planning for Pineland for a couple months and had had it in the back of my mind throughout all my Gator Trail training. Mentally, I knew I was ready for 50 miles, and I believed I was physically. It was time.
On Sunday morning, April 3, I did an easy 5 miles and had to hold myself back from going to far or too fast. I was ready to open it up, and waiting until The Rivah felt like it was going to be tough. Then, that evening, everything changed.
Long story, short: I broke two ribs and punctured my lung. We were visiting friends, and I was playing with their three-year-old. We were goofing around, I picked him up and slipped on the hardwood floor. I landed hard on the right side of my back. (He landed on his head. He's fine.) I didn't immediately go to the hospital, but later that evening, when I couldn't get into bed, I knew that something was seriously wrong. In the ensuing 10 days, I've have 5 chest x-rays, 4 consultations with doctors and a couple dozens Percocets. None of that was in the plan.
I'm getting better with each passing day, but I can't run. In fact, today was the first day I could walk upright. The good news is that my lung is nearly healed, and I won't have any permanent damage. My ribs still need another 2 to 4 weeks to heal. I have no idea when I'll be able to run, much less resume training. Right now, it seems very far away.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Gator Trail 50k - Race Report
Eighteen weeks of training later, the Gator Trail 50k finally happened. It felt like it would never come. Great synergy to this race as during the first week of the training cycle, D and I had the chance to scope out the trails at Lake Waccamaw State Park. That run was during a Thanksgiving visit to her parents, and, now, in March, it was time to cash in on those eighteen weeks. I withdrew them in full running a better race than I believed I could. Ever since I researched this race, my "A" goal, which I believe I only said aloud to two people, was to win it. Looking at past results, I knew that I needed to get close to 4 hours, 7:45 per mile, to have a shot. I knew this was a lofty goal, and maybe even a bit unrealistic. But, that's what I pointed my training towards, and, in reality, I never really came up with a "B" or "C" goal.
After a relatively uneventful travel day (even with an energetic 18-month-old) to North Carolina on Wednesday and two subsequent days spent relaxing, D and I were up in the dark and driving southwest to the race. The sun had risen, just barely, when we arrived at the park, but the sky was cloud covered, which was a pleasant sight for the northerners. Another pleasant sight was the reading on the thermometer: 48°. My biggest fear for this race was temperatures rising into the 80's, but we lucked out with the weather as the skies remained cloudy throughout and the mercury never rose above 60°. Perfect racing conditions, and I joked that I wouldn't be able to use the weather as an excuse.
Southern hospitality was in full effect as we chatted with the race director, Grant, before the race at this small, Fat Ass-style event: low-key, no frills and welcoming smiles all around. The 50-kilometer course consisted of 5, 10-kilometer laps, which included a 1.2-mile out-and-back section about halfway through. In a unique twist, during each lap at the end of the out-and-back, each runner would take a sticker from their number and place it on the board to ensure no one skipped this section. Grant went through this procedure and other pre-race instructions as the group of thirty-or-so runners milled around the start area. Then, almost without warning, Grant said, "Well, OK. Ready, set, go." We were off.
Lap 1
At the sort-of command, I found myself at the front of the race only a few strides in. D yelled up to me, "I hope you know where you're going," which got a chuckle out of myself and everyone else. I expected a few others to come up and run alongside, but I clicked through the first mile alone in 7:57 and turned to see second and third place 10 and 15 seconds back, respectively. It was at this point that I resolved myself to running the race alone and at my pace. 7:45 was the target pace, and that's what I got the reading on my Garmin down to over the next few miles.
At the end of the out-and-back, which was almost exactly 5k, it only took a second or so to tack my sticker to the board. Pre-race, I was a bit worried this process would be cumbersome and slow, but it was quick and easy. The out-and-back was great because I had the opportunity to see everyone behind me. I determined that I had about 1:30 on second place with 3rd, 4th and 5th not that far behind him. Plenty of motivation for me. The section of trail following the out-and-back was right along Lake Waccamaw and really nice singletrack—narrow, twisty goodness. This was my favorite part of the loop, and I was really enjoying the first few miles.
Coming into the race, I wasn't certain how my target pace was going to feel, and I was very please at how easy the first few miles went by. I finished the first lap in 47:41 (7:41 per mile) feeling very relaxed and comfortable, although my Garmin was reading a bit short due to the twists of the trail.
Lap 2
Unfortunately, "I Will Survive" was blaring from the speakers as I picked up my lap-two sticker at the start/finish line, and I was stuck with one of my least favorite songs of all time in my head for the next couple miles. The beginning of the each loop wound through pine forest with the trail alternating between firm and sandy sections. The sand wasn't deep, but it was soft enough to slow you down. On each lap, I did my best to avoid the soft portions by running alongside the established trail. The footing was rougher, but firmer, so I considered it a good trade off. The other "interesting" feature at the start of each lap was the lingering effects of the controlled burns recently held by the park staff. For the first two miles of each lap, the ground was black on either side of the trail and still smoking in a few locations. The smell of smoke was evident but never bothered me or hampered my breathing. However, it was still a bit unsettling to see the blackened, smoldering earth all around you.
Shortly into this lap, I came upon two runners heading in the opposite direction. I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I had to tell them that they were headed in the wrong direction. I did hesitate for a moment thinking I may have had gone wrong, but from our recon trip in November, I was certain I was going the correct way. Since part of trail racing is finding your way, I kept going, but it was a good reminder that I needed to remain focused.
At around 9 miles, I did a double-take at my Garmin because I could hardly believe I'd already run 9 miles. I felt like I'd barely run a step and knew it was going to be a good day. In fact, I thought to myself, "I refuse to have a bad day." On the out-and-back, I once again had the chance to check in on the competition, and I estimated my lead had stretched to four minutes. My second lap split was 1:34:20 for a 46:40 lap (7:31 per mile), and the miles were still coming very easily.
Lap 3
With the Garmin coming up a bit short, I knew that I had run a more than it was reading and that my average pace was also a touch faster. Throughout the second lap, I'd kept the "Average Pace" reading at a steady 7:45 and hoped to do the same through the third lap. The tough, tough music choices continued as I was serenaded with "La Bamba" from the sound system as I started the third lap, ready to have things start feeling a bit like work. Around 14 miles, I made the transition from running easily to feeling it a bit. This was a big shift mentally. I knew going into the race that it was going to hurt. There was no way to avoid it. I was prepared for it. The only questions now were how much was it going to hurt and how long could I keep pushing this pace? However, as this lap progressed I was feeling worse but actually getting faster as my average pace dipped to 7:44...on the Garmin at least.
The out-and-back was another confidence booster as my lead had stretched to eight minutes, and second place was the only other racer I saw in this section aside from runners I was lapping. One runner joked: "If you keep this up, we won't invite you back." So much for Southern hospitality. When I picked up my sticker to close out lap #3, I checked the clock, which read 2:20:47. That lap would turn out to be my fastest of the day: 46:27 (7:29 per mile). I knew that if I could run two 50-minute laps and be right at 4 hours. Honestly, I had my doubts. From looking at past results, I knew that despite being a flat course, most people had the tendency to slow down quite a bit in the final laps/miles. Obviously, I didn't want to suffer the same fate, turning the race into a death march, and I was concerned I'd overcooked that third lap.
Lap 4
Heading out to "Anyway You Want It," one of the great volunteers yelled, "Have fun!" I replied, "Hard not to on a day like this! Thanks for ordering up this great weather for the guy from Maine!" And, in truth, I was having fun. It was work, but it was still fun. The trails were very pretty, and I appreciated them more and more. From the pile of ping pong balls...errr, turtle eggs, to the cactus, to the mangrove trees, I was running in a place unfamiliar to me and really enjoying it. The trails were fun, twisty and just plain great for running. That being said, I needed to go to work. The sand seemed deeper and softer, and I could no longer find the best lines. I maintained my pace through the first half of the fourth lap, but the second half was a struggle. The average pace on my Garmin kept creeping up...7:45...7:46...7:47...7:48...
I began to worry about second place thinking that if he had taken it easy the first few laps, he could really be making up some ground on me. I was relieved when I finished the out-and-back without seeing him, but I did catch a glimpse of his neon green shirt through the trees and guessed I was now up by nearly 11 minutes. Even though that was more than a mile lead, a lot can happen in an ultra, and I felt confident I could win it but didn't take it for granted. Plus, with my Garmin telling me what I already knew—that I was slowing down—I was no longer really enjoying the day. In fact, at one point near the end of the fourth lap I said out loud, "This sucks." In the closing miles of this lap, I wanted to be done. I had no idea how I was going to not only maintain my pace or even complete another lap. It seemed an insurmountable task. Indeed, the fourth lap was slower: 48:01 (7:44 per mile).
Lap 5
The clock read 3:08:48. "This one is going to hurt," was all I could say to the volunteer crew as I started lap #5 as "I Just Called to Say I Love You" played in the background. And, hurt it did. I forced myself to take one final gel as I started the lap. I'd been drinking HEED since the start but opted for Gatorade for the final circuit. My stomach had had enough of the HEED/Hammer Gel/Clif Shot Blok mixture I'd been downing for the first four laps but was thankfully still reasonably settled. The final lap was basically a blur. Throughout the rest of the race, I'd been exchanging words of encouragement with every runner I saw, and I felt badly that I could barely communicate now. The average pace on my Garmin was reading 7:49 and stayed right there for the entire final lap. I was too exhausted to do the math to determine my actual pace or how far I had to go. All I knew was that I was running a bit faster than it was reading and had actually run a bit farther. But, I also knew that 7:49 was not sub-4-hour pace, so I kept trying to get that number lower. I just hoped that I had a 52-minute lap in me. I wasn't so sure. I really labored the first half of the fifth lap, and the out-and-back felt like it went on forever. However, like the rest of the laps, it was about a 10-minute round trip on the out-and-back. So, I was still moving, but it just hurt a lot more now. Thankfully, second place never appeared, so I was feeling better about taking it home. I actually dropped my handheld on this lap at the beginning of the out-and-back to run hands free for a stretch, which was a good mental boost. Picking it back up was a different story as my legs were not pleased with the change in motion. I'd been fighting off cramps since about mile 25, and I nearly fell over picking up the bottle.
As I ran along the lake, I crossed the first of two boardwalks and took note of the sign that read "Visitors Center - 2 Miles." I never really figured out if this was correct, but I assume it was a touch longer because we didn't run directly back to the Visitors Center. My watch read 3:43 and change at this point, and I knew I had a shot at breaking 4 hours. But, I also knew I had to hammer it. It was going to be close. I was in full-on grunt, froth and drool mode, and as I hit the long boardwalk that marked the very end of the lap I was even cursing at myself to keep moving. It wasn't until I hit this point that I was confident that I had the race won. With a quarter mile to go, I dropped my handheld and pushed my final loop around the parking lot. I crossed the line in 3:56:29, which, in all honesty, feels strange to type. My final lap was 47:42 (7:41 per mile).
My Garmin gave me a distance of 30.26 miles, and with that time, the average per mile was, indeed, 7:49. For the full 31 miles, my average pace was 7:37, which also feels strange to type. I really thought 7:45 was a stretch, so I'm thrilled with the time. In the end, it wasn't so much about winning, but breaking four hours. If ten guys had finished in front of me, I'd be just as happy. Well, OK, I'm pretty stoked to get the win.
D's parents arrived just as I was finishing, so they got to see me hobble painfully as my legs seized up the moment I crossed the line. The cramps I'd been so worried about hit me as soon as I stopped running. Everything hurts less when you're happy with your race, so I was able to laugh, at least a little, through my grimacing. Eventually, I was able to walk somewhat normally, give Sam a hug and change.
Not long after, D came off the boardwalk and onto the road to finish her race. I was elated to see she had a huge smile on her face as she ran past her Dad holding Sam and then past me. The only thing that was missing was an Ironman-esque announcer saying: "YOU'RE an ULTRARUNNER!" I was thrilled she finished her first 50k, and in impressive fashion: 4:47:10, second woman. I'm really proud of her ability to pull it all together as a mother, wife and athlete.
RESULTS
All in all, it was a great day on the trails. For the win, I got a custom picture frame with an alligator on it. (The race director will send us our photos later.) Really nice touch. Just one of many that made this a really fun event. I love the feel of small races. The course, while flat, was not boring nor really easy. It has enough twists and turns to keep you on your toes and plenty of roots to make the singletrack challenging. The sand I could certainly live without, but the trails are beautiful. I really didn't mind running 5 laps, and I hope I have the opportunity to run at Lake Waccamaw again sometime.
One random fun fact: I don't know my exact time because of the short readings on my Garmin, but en route I PRed in the marathon by around 20 minutes. I guess I'm in a wee bit better shape than when I ran my one and only road marathon in 2008.
Thanks to D's parents who not only took care of Sam on race day, but also hosted us this week and put up with all my (our) pre-race neurosis and post-race hobbling. We could not have done this without them. A good support crew is key. THANKS!
So, what's next? Walking normally is the first goal.
Daddo, you stink!
My cool down.
Kick Ass!
After a relatively uneventful travel day (even with an energetic 18-month-old) to North Carolina on Wednesday and two subsequent days spent relaxing, D and I were up in the dark and driving southwest to the race. The sun had risen, just barely, when we arrived at the park, but the sky was cloud covered, which was a pleasant sight for the northerners. Another pleasant sight was the reading on the thermometer: 48°. My biggest fear for this race was temperatures rising into the 80's, but we lucked out with the weather as the skies remained cloudy throughout and the mercury never rose above 60°. Perfect racing conditions, and I joked that I wouldn't be able to use the weather as an excuse.
Southern hospitality was in full effect as we chatted with the race director, Grant, before the race at this small, Fat Ass-style event: low-key, no frills and welcoming smiles all around. The 50-kilometer course consisted of 5, 10-kilometer laps, which included a 1.2-mile out-and-back section about halfway through. In a unique twist, during each lap at the end of the out-and-back, each runner would take a sticker from their number and place it on the board to ensure no one skipped this section. Grant went through this procedure and other pre-race instructions as the group of thirty-or-so runners milled around the start area. Then, almost without warning, Grant said, "Well, OK. Ready, set, go." We were off.
Lap 1
At the sort-of command, I found myself at the front of the race only a few strides in. D yelled up to me, "I hope you know where you're going," which got a chuckle out of myself and everyone else. I expected a few others to come up and run alongside, but I clicked through the first mile alone in 7:57 and turned to see second and third place 10 and 15 seconds back, respectively. It was at this point that I resolved myself to running the race alone and at my pace. 7:45 was the target pace, and that's what I got the reading on my Garmin down to over the next few miles.
At the end of the out-and-back, which was almost exactly 5k, it only took a second or so to tack my sticker to the board. Pre-race, I was a bit worried this process would be cumbersome and slow, but it was quick and easy. The out-and-back was great because I had the opportunity to see everyone behind me. I determined that I had about 1:30 on second place with 3rd, 4th and 5th not that far behind him. Plenty of motivation for me. The section of trail following the out-and-back was right along Lake Waccamaw and really nice singletrack—narrow, twisty goodness. This was my favorite part of the loop, and I was really enjoying the first few miles.
Coming into the race, I wasn't certain how my target pace was going to feel, and I was very please at how easy the first few miles went by. I finished the first lap in 47:41 (7:41 per mile) feeling very relaxed and comfortable, although my Garmin was reading a bit short due to the twists of the trail.
Lap 2
Unfortunately, "I Will Survive" was blaring from the speakers as I picked up my lap-two sticker at the start/finish line, and I was stuck with one of my least favorite songs of all time in my head for the next couple miles. The beginning of the each loop wound through pine forest with the trail alternating between firm and sandy sections. The sand wasn't deep, but it was soft enough to slow you down. On each lap, I did my best to avoid the soft portions by running alongside the established trail. The footing was rougher, but firmer, so I considered it a good trade off. The other "interesting" feature at the start of each lap was the lingering effects of the controlled burns recently held by the park staff. For the first two miles of each lap, the ground was black on either side of the trail and still smoking in a few locations. The smell of smoke was evident but never bothered me or hampered my breathing. However, it was still a bit unsettling to see the blackened, smoldering earth all around you.
Shortly into this lap, I came upon two runners heading in the opposite direction. I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I had to tell them that they were headed in the wrong direction. I did hesitate for a moment thinking I may have had gone wrong, but from our recon trip in November, I was certain I was going the correct way. Since part of trail racing is finding your way, I kept going, but it was a good reminder that I needed to remain focused.
At around 9 miles, I did a double-take at my Garmin because I could hardly believe I'd already run 9 miles. I felt like I'd barely run a step and knew it was going to be a good day. In fact, I thought to myself, "I refuse to have a bad day." On the out-and-back, I once again had the chance to check in on the competition, and I estimated my lead had stretched to four minutes. My second lap split was 1:34:20 for a 46:40 lap (7:31 per mile), and the miles were still coming very easily.
Lap 3
With the Garmin coming up a bit short, I knew that I had run a more than it was reading and that my average pace was also a touch faster. Throughout the second lap, I'd kept the "Average Pace" reading at a steady 7:45 and hoped to do the same through the third lap. The tough, tough music choices continued as I was serenaded with "La Bamba" from the sound system as I started the third lap, ready to have things start feeling a bit like work. Around 14 miles, I made the transition from running easily to feeling it a bit. This was a big shift mentally. I knew going into the race that it was going to hurt. There was no way to avoid it. I was prepared for it. The only questions now were how much was it going to hurt and how long could I keep pushing this pace? However, as this lap progressed I was feeling worse but actually getting faster as my average pace dipped to 7:44...on the Garmin at least.
The out-and-back was another confidence booster as my lead had stretched to eight minutes, and second place was the only other racer I saw in this section aside from runners I was lapping. One runner joked: "If you keep this up, we won't invite you back." So much for Southern hospitality. When I picked up my sticker to close out lap #3, I checked the clock, which read 2:20:47. That lap would turn out to be my fastest of the day: 46:27 (7:29 per mile). I knew that if I could run two 50-minute laps and be right at 4 hours. Honestly, I had my doubts. From looking at past results, I knew that despite being a flat course, most people had the tendency to slow down quite a bit in the final laps/miles. Obviously, I didn't want to suffer the same fate, turning the race into a death march, and I was concerned I'd overcooked that third lap.
Lap 4
Heading out to "Anyway You Want It," one of the great volunteers yelled, "Have fun!" I replied, "Hard not to on a day like this! Thanks for ordering up this great weather for the guy from Maine!" And, in truth, I was having fun. It was work, but it was still fun. The trails were very pretty, and I appreciated them more and more. From the pile of ping pong balls...errr, turtle eggs, to the cactus, to the mangrove trees, I was running in a place unfamiliar to me and really enjoying it. The trails were fun, twisty and just plain great for running. That being said, I needed to go to work. The sand seemed deeper and softer, and I could no longer find the best lines. I maintained my pace through the first half of the fourth lap, but the second half was a struggle. The average pace on my Garmin kept creeping up...7:45...7:46...7:47...7:48...
I began to worry about second place thinking that if he had taken it easy the first few laps, he could really be making up some ground on me. I was relieved when I finished the out-and-back without seeing him, but I did catch a glimpse of his neon green shirt through the trees and guessed I was now up by nearly 11 minutes. Even though that was more than a mile lead, a lot can happen in an ultra, and I felt confident I could win it but didn't take it for granted. Plus, with my Garmin telling me what I already knew—that I was slowing down—I was no longer really enjoying the day. In fact, at one point near the end of the fourth lap I said out loud, "This sucks." In the closing miles of this lap, I wanted to be done. I had no idea how I was going to not only maintain my pace or even complete another lap. It seemed an insurmountable task. Indeed, the fourth lap was slower: 48:01 (7:44 per mile).
Lap 5
The clock read 3:08:48. "This one is going to hurt," was all I could say to the volunteer crew as I started lap #5 as "I Just Called to Say I Love You" played in the background. And, hurt it did. I forced myself to take one final gel as I started the lap. I'd been drinking HEED since the start but opted for Gatorade for the final circuit. My stomach had had enough of the HEED/Hammer Gel/Clif Shot Blok mixture I'd been downing for the first four laps but was thankfully still reasonably settled. The final lap was basically a blur. Throughout the rest of the race, I'd been exchanging words of encouragement with every runner I saw, and I felt badly that I could barely communicate now. The average pace on my Garmin was reading 7:49 and stayed right there for the entire final lap. I was too exhausted to do the math to determine my actual pace or how far I had to go. All I knew was that I was running a bit faster than it was reading and had actually run a bit farther. But, I also knew that 7:49 was not sub-4-hour pace, so I kept trying to get that number lower. I just hoped that I had a 52-minute lap in me. I wasn't so sure. I really labored the first half of the fifth lap, and the out-and-back felt like it went on forever. However, like the rest of the laps, it was about a 10-minute round trip on the out-and-back. So, I was still moving, but it just hurt a lot more now. Thankfully, second place never appeared, so I was feeling better about taking it home. I actually dropped my handheld on this lap at the beginning of the out-and-back to run hands free for a stretch, which was a good mental boost. Picking it back up was a different story as my legs were not pleased with the change in motion. I'd been fighting off cramps since about mile 25, and I nearly fell over picking up the bottle.
As I ran along the lake, I crossed the first of two boardwalks and took note of the sign that read "Visitors Center - 2 Miles." I never really figured out if this was correct, but I assume it was a touch longer because we didn't run directly back to the Visitors Center. My watch read 3:43 and change at this point, and I knew I had a shot at breaking 4 hours. But, I also knew I had to hammer it. It was going to be close. I was in full-on grunt, froth and drool mode, and as I hit the long boardwalk that marked the very end of the lap I was even cursing at myself to keep moving. It wasn't until I hit this point that I was confident that I had the race won. With a quarter mile to go, I dropped my handheld and pushed my final loop around the parking lot. I crossed the line in 3:56:29, which, in all honesty, feels strange to type. My final lap was 47:42 (7:41 per mile).
My Garmin gave me a distance of 30.26 miles, and with that time, the average per mile was, indeed, 7:49. For the full 31 miles, my average pace was 7:37, which also feels strange to type. I really thought 7:45 was a stretch, so I'm thrilled with the time. In the end, it wasn't so much about winning, but breaking four hours. If ten guys had finished in front of me, I'd be just as happy. Well, OK, I'm pretty stoked to get the win.
D's parents arrived just as I was finishing, so they got to see me hobble painfully as my legs seized up the moment I crossed the line. The cramps I'd been so worried about hit me as soon as I stopped running. Everything hurts less when you're happy with your race, so I was able to laugh, at least a little, through my grimacing. Eventually, I was able to walk somewhat normally, give Sam a hug and change.
Not long after, D came off the boardwalk and onto the road to finish her race. I was elated to see she had a huge smile on her face as she ran past her Dad holding Sam and then past me. The only thing that was missing was an Ironman-esque announcer saying: "YOU'RE an ULTRARUNNER!" I was thrilled she finished her first 50k, and in impressive fashion: 4:47:10, second woman. I'm really proud of her ability to pull it all together as a mother, wife and athlete.
RESULTS
All in all, it was a great day on the trails. For the win, I got a custom picture frame with an alligator on it. (The race director will send us our photos later.) Really nice touch. Just one of many that made this a really fun event. I love the feel of small races. The course, while flat, was not boring nor really easy. It has enough twists and turns to keep you on your toes and plenty of roots to make the singletrack challenging. The sand I could certainly live without, but the trails are beautiful. I really didn't mind running 5 laps, and I hope I have the opportunity to run at Lake Waccamaw again sometime.
One random fun fact: I don't know my exact time because of the short readings on my Garmin, but en route I PRed in the marathon by around 20 minutes. I guess I'm in a wee bit better shape than when I ran my one and only road marathon in 2008.
Thanks to D's parents who not only took care of Sam on race day, but also hosted us this week and put up with all my (our) pre-race neurosis and post-race hobbling. We could not have done this without them. A good support crew is key. THANKS!
So, what's next? Walking normally is the first goal.
Daddo, you stink!
My cool down.
Kick Ass!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Training 3/13 - 3/19
Taper madness.
Onto the numbers...
3/13, Sunday: 9.5 total. Granite State Snowshoe Championship.
3/14, Monday: 3 - 23:53, Patriot Commons. Legs felt good. Took it very easy. This loop is boring.
3/15, Tuesday: Off
3/16, Wednesday: 8 - 1:08:13, Highland Green dirt roads. As the seasons transition, it's tricky to find trail runs that aren't fraught with ankle-wrenching postholes, which at this point in my training, I'd really like to avoid. However, the plowed dirt roads/construction roads around Highland Green are in great shape, so I just ran up and back on them until I got 8 miles. Throw in the wind, rain and generally foul weather, this run was all about head down, get the miles in and call it a day. Mission accomplished.
3/17, Thursday: Off
3/18, Friday: 5.25 - 41:00, Highland Green +. Now that I'm intimately acquainted with all the dirt roads in Highland Green, I added a piece on these roads to the normal loop. Nice addition that alleviates the need for an unnecessary road piece at the beginning. This will become the regular loop. Run felt great, and I was holding myself back. Itching to go. Of note: snowshoe season is over, so I am allowed to run in shorts, and this was the first run of the year in shorts! Pasty.
3/19, Saturday: 5 - 41:36, Highland Green. Same loop. Totally different conditions. About an inch of wet snow had and was falling. Windy, too. So, instead of shorts, it was tights and a rain shell. Preferred Friday's weather.
Totals: 30.75
Trail: 14.25
Road: 16.5
Tapering is no fun at all. Necessary evil, but I feel really off on all my runs—snappy, but strange. I'm not sleeping well either...well, it's impossible to fall asleep. "Hello, ceiling." The good news: only a week to go. I'm obsessively looking at the long-range forecasts for Lake Waccamaw, NC. We fly on Wednesday. Biggest challenge of the trip: Gator Trail 50k or flying with the kiddo? Push.
Onto the numbers...
3/13, Sunday: 9.5 total. Granite State Snowshoe Championship.
3/14, Monday: 3 - 23:53, Patriot Commons. Legs felt good. Took it very easy. This loop is boring.
3/15, Tuesday: Off
3/16, Wednesday: 8 - 1:08:13, Highland Green dirt roads. As the seasons transition, it's tricky to find trail runs that aren't fraught with ankle-wrenching postholes, which at this point in my training, I'd really like to avoid. However, the plowed dirt roads/construction roads around Highland Green are in great shape, so I just ran up and back on them until I got 8 miles. Throw in the wind, rain and generally foul weather, this run was all about head down, get the miles in and call it a day. Mission accomplished.
3/17, Thursday: Off
3/18, Friday: 5.25 - 41:00, Highland Green +. Now that I'm intimately acquainted with all the dirt roads in Highland Green, I added a piece on these roads to the normal loop. Nice addition that alleviates the need for an unnecessary road piece at the beginning. This will become the regular loop. Run felt great, and I was holding myself back. Itching to go. Of note: snowshoe season is over, so I am allowed to run in shorts, and this was the first run of the year in shorts! Pasty.
3/19, Saturday: 5 - 41:36, Highland Green. Same loop. Totally different conditions. About an inch of wet snow had and was falling. Windy, too. So, instead of shorts, it was tights and a rain shell. Preferred Friday's weather.
Totals: 30.75
Trail: 14.25
Road: 16.5
Tapering is no fun at all. Necessary evil, but I feel really off on all my runs—snappy, but strange. I'm not sleeping well either...well, it's impossible to fall asleep. "Hello, ceiling." The good news: only a week to go. I'm obsessively looking at the long-range forecasts for Lake Waccamaw, NC. We fly on Wednesday. Biggest challenge of the trip: Gator Trail 50k or flying with the kiddo? Push.
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