Sunday, February 19, 2006
Desert Classic Marathon 2006
I have to get this race written up before I run another one, so here goes.
This was a small race. It has usually been small, with maybe a hundred runners, but last year there were a lot of organizational problems.
This year it was the same day as the Lost Dutchman Marathon on the other side of the Phoenix metropolitan area, which was much more promoted.
So there were only about fifty marathoners, and a little over 150 half marathoners, at the Desert Classic.
It was a nice morning in Surprise, just a little cold. I know many of you are more used to freezing temperatures than I am, so it might not have seemed that cold to you. But it was cold to me. I stayed in my car as long as I could.
I got to the start with just two minutes to go and started moving up through the pack toward the front. Then they delayed the start while trying to figure out a mixup that had happened with a few of the numbers and chips. The announcer kept calling out names of people they needed to come forward and show their numbers. This took about 10 minutes, and before the end of it, people were shivering and shouting to start.
It was just a little crowded in the first quarter mile, then I had room to go my own pace.
The course is uphill 350 feet to mile nine, then down 170 feet to the turnaround, then back up 170 feet to mile 17, and downhill, more or less, from there.
I had decided to stay close to my goal pace of 8 minutes per mile even on the hills. Chugging along at close to that pace near mile 5, a guy in a red singlet came along side me and asked what my goal was. I was in a long sleeved shirt and gloves, and was still cold. I told him I was trying to break 3:30, and he guessed that I was between 45 and 49 years old. He was, too.
I mentioned that we were in the same age group, and he said he didn't care about placing in his age group, just about getting 3:30. The runner just behind us said, "Me too."
I said we were going about the right pace, but within a few minutes, the guy in the red shirt pulled away. I figured he had decided to beat 3:30 by a lot instead of a little. The other guy ran with me for a while, but dropped away. I knew that I was a little under the pace, so I thought maybe he was smarter than me, running a more conservative pace going uphill.
Both of those guys looked like serious runners, lean, rhythmic, focused.
While I was running with those guys, another runner came up. He seemed to be chatting everyone up like he was just out for a morning stroll.
He was kind of broad around the middle with skinny legs. He did not look so much like a runner.
But he was moving along effortlessly, and quickly left me behind. Then a few miles later, he caught up with me from behind again.
I said, "You must have taken a potty break."
He said, "No, but that's a good idea." and went off into the bushes.
I reached mile 9 where Jen was waiting to help me get a blood sugar reading, but I couldn't get the test strip to work. I have had that happen a few times with this meter I've been using for the past month. Jen went to get another strip and said she would catch up to me.
He caught up with me again and ran my pace for a while and told me some stories about running in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
I kept wondering where Jen was. I thought she and Sue would come driving up any minute. Then I heard her voice behind us talking to the guy at the water stop we had just passed. She had run a very fast mile to catch us!
While I was finally getting a reading, the guy from Indiana left me behind behind right before the halfway point.
I had no blood sugar problems the whole race, but testing was a pain. We had planned to test again on the way back, but gave up on it after the first try didn't work.
I caught the guy in the red shirt around mile 17.
I said, "We're going to get this thing." and he said, "Yeah." but he wasn't keeping up with me.
I really thought it was possible for me to finish in 3:30 at that point, because I was only a little behind the required pace, and the rest of the race is mostly downhill. But it was like I described when I ran the 30K here a few weeks ago, it was like the earth had tilted in the other direction, and it was uphill both ways.
A young, energetic, guy came up from behind at near 19 miles and said, "Let's get that guy ahead of us."
Because it is just a long, straight road, you can see far ahead. The runner he was talking about was at least a quarter mile up there.
I said, "You get him and hold him for me."
It turns out that young guy finished in 3:29.
I finished in 3:34. I could have cut a minute or two off of that, but I really had no ambition to get extremely close to running my BQ time again. When I passed the 25 mile point and I could see I would have to run a 6 minute mile to reach my goal, I eased up. I would have kicked more if anyone had been near me, either in front or behind, but I was running alone at the finish, as I was most of the day.
The round guy with skinny legs from Indiana was third overall in 3:27.
The red shirt who went out fast and came back slower ran it in 3:53, and the other guy in my age group ran it 4:18.
So my 3:34:09 was worth 6th place overall and first in my age group. I don't do that in a marathon very often.
I found a lot to learn in this race. I hope you got something out of it.
One thing I've been thinking about is how far I've come. I want to thank the Roads Scholars for their support and help over the years. It wasn't that long ago I was happy to break four hours in a marathon. I am now quite certain I can break 3:30. I just have to be ready at the right race.
Garmin said 26.09
This was a small race. It has usually been small, with maybe a hundred runners, but last year there were a lot of organizational problems.
This year it was the same day as the Lost Dutchman Marathon on the other side of the Phoenix metropolitan area, which was much more promoted.
So there were only about fifty marathoners, and a little over 150 half marathoners, at the Desert Classic.
It was a nice morning in Surprise, just a little cold. I know many of you are more used to freezing temperatures than I am, so it might not have seemed that cold to you. But it was cold to me. I stayed in my car as long as I could.
I got to the start with just two minutes to go and started moving up through the pack toward the front. Then they delayed the start while trying to figure out a mixup that had happened with a few of the numbers and chips. The announcer kept calling out names of people they needed to come forward and show their numbers. This took about 10 minutes, and before the end of it, people were shivering and shouting to start.
It was just a little crowded in the first quarter mile, then I had room to go my own pace.
The course is uphill 350 feet to mile nine, then down 170 feet to the turnaround, then back up 170 feet to mile 17, and downhill, more or less, from there.
I had decided to stay close to my goal pace of 8 minutes per mile even on the hills. Chugging along at close to that pace near mile 5, a guy in a red singlet came along side me and asked what my goal was. I was in a long sleeved shirt and gloves, and was still cold. I told him I was trying to break 3:30, and he guessed that I was between 45 and 49 years old. He was, too.
I mentioned that we were in the same age group, and he said he didn't care about placing in his age group, just about getting 3:30. The runner just behind us said, "Me too."
I said we were going about the right pace, but within a few minutes, the guy in the red shirt pulled away. I figured he had decided to beat 3:30 by a lot instead of a little. The other guy ran with me for a while, but dropped away. I knew that I was a little under the pace, so I thought maybe he was smarter than me, running a more conservative pace going uphill.
Both of those guys looked like serious runners, lean, rhythmic, focused.
While I was running with those guys, another runner came up. He seemed to be chatting everyone up like he was just out for a morning stroll.
He was kind of broad around the middle with skinny legs. He did not look so much like a runner.
But he was moving along effortlessly, and quickly left me behind. Then a few miles later, he caught up with me from behind again.
I said, "You must have taken a potty break."
He said, "No, but that's a good idea." and went off into the bushes.
I reached mile 9 where Jen was waiting to help me get a blood sugar reading, but I couldn't get the test strip to work. I have had that happen a few times with this meter I've been using for the past month. Jen went to get another strip and said she would catch up to me.
He caught up with me again and ran my pace for a while and told me some stories about running in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
I kept wondering where Jen was. I thought she and Sue would come driving up any minute. Then I heard her voice behind us talking to the guy at the water stop we had just passed. She had run a very fast mile to catch us!
While I was finally getting a reading, the guy from Indiana left me behind behind right before the halfway point.
I had no blood sugar problems the whole race, but testing was a pain. We had planned to test again on the way back, but gave up on it after the first try didn't work.
I caught the guy in the red shirt around mile 17.
I said, "We're going to get this thing." and he said, "Yeah." but he wasn't keeping up with me.
I really thought it was possible for me to finish in 3:30 at that point, because I was only a little behind the required pace, and the rest of the race is mostly downhill. But it was like I described when I ran the 30K here a few weeks ago, it was like the earth had tilted in the other direction, and it was uphill both ways.
A young, energetic, guy came up from behind at near 19 miles and said, "Let's get that guy ahead of us."
Because it is just a long, straight road, you can see far ahead. The runner he was talking about was at least a quarter mile up there.
I said, "You get him and hold him for me."
It turns out that young guy finished in 3:29.
I finished in 3:34. I could have cut a minute or two off of that, but I really had no ambition to get extremely close to running my BQ time again. When I passed the 25 mile point and I could see I would have to run a 6 minute mile to reach my goal, I eased up. I would have kicked more if anyone had been near me, either in front or behind, but I was running alone at the finish, as I was most of the day.
The round guy with skinny legs from Indiana was third overall in 3:27.
The red shirt who went out fast and came back slower ran it in 3:53, and the other guy in my age group ran it 4:18.
So my 3:34:09 was worth 6th place overall and first in my age group. I don't do that in a marathon very often.
I found a lot to learn in this race. I hope you got something out of it.
One thing I've been thinking about is how far I've come. I want to thank the Roads Scholars for their support and help over the years. It wasn't that long ago I was happy to break four hours in a marathon. I am now quite certain I can break 3:30. I just have to be ready at the right race.
01 7:51 0:07:51
02 7:58 0:15:50
03 7:47 0:23:37
04 7:42 0:31:20
05 7:58 0:39:19
06 8:07 0:47:26
07 7:59 0:55:25
08 8:07 1:03:32
09 8:04 1:11:37
10 8:03 1:19:40
11 8:05 1:27:46
12 7:44 1:35:30
13 7:49 1:43:19
14 7:53 1:51:13
15 8:03 1:59:16
16 8:34 2:07:50
17 8:15 2:16:05
18 8:26 2:24:32
19 8:20 2:32:52
20 8:18 2:41:10
21 7:59 2:49:10
22 8:20 2:57:31
23 9:03 3:06:34
24 8:51 3:15:26
25 8:18 3:23:45
26 9:46 3:33:31
26.2 0:37 3:34:09
Garmin said 26.09
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Desert Classic 30K 2005
I did all right in the 30K on Sunday. I know I said I would probably do a 5K close to home, but this is the way it worked out.
I still haven't qualified for Boston, even though I've been about as close as you can get. There's a local marathon, the Desert Classic Marathon, on February 19th. Last year, this race was a mess. The location of the race wasn't settled until days before it was run. I'm not sure if it was ever certified.
So, because I wanted to take another shot at qualifying for Boston, I wrote an email to the Arizona Road Racers to find out if the permits were all in place and the course was certified. And I asked for details about the course.
They assured me it would be certified, they had the permits, and I could try out most of the course by running the 30K on Sunday. So even though I ran a very tough, hilly, 10 mile trail run on Saturday, the National Trail in South Mountain to Buena Vista and back, I went out to Surprise to run this 30K on Sunday.
It is all on one road, out and back. It's a gradual uphill on the way out, so downhill coming back to the finish. It's all in the bike lane, as wide as the car lanes, which is plenty wide enough for a small race like this.
I decided that my goal was to run a consistent pace, whatever I could manage. I thought it might be around 8:30 or 9, but I wasn't having any trouble keeping it close to 8 minutes per mile.
I was glad I had my Garmin, as the mile markers were all messed up after 3 miles. Up to that point, they were the same mile markers used by the 5K and the 10K.
From the 4 mile marker out they had mixed up the placement of signs for the out and back, so on the way out, they were .3 miles off, and on the way in, they were .6 off, until you got to 15 miles. A lot of runners without any GPS or good sense of pace and distance thought they were running a terrific pace until they ran a mile and a half between the 14 mile and 15 mile markers.
It wasn't until I hit the turnaround that I realized that one reason I had been able to keep up a good pace on the uphill was that I had a tailwind. Unfortunately, when I turned around, it became a headwind. It wasn't terrible, just always there, varying between noticeable and significant, all the way back.
All the way out, whenever the hills started to get to me, I told myself, "This will help you on the way back. It will be so easy." I didn't feel an earthquake, but there must have been some kind of geological event, because somehow the road had tipped the other way while I was running, and it ended up being uphill both ways.
Somebody caught me from behind near about mile 12, and I pulled in behind him for a while, drafting. Not wanting to be a parasite, I got ahead of him after a while and let him follow me. We traded off a couple of times and caught two other runners this way.
Then he picked it up in the last couple of miles. I didn't have it in me to go faster. I started to do the same drafting then leading with one of the runners we had caught, but he got away from me in the last mile. I was within a few seconds of him at the finish, and it turned out he was third in my age group.
I would say that I could have beaten him if I had tried harder, but truthfully, if I had challenged him, he probably would have given it more kick at the finish.
So I ran it in 2:32:34, an 8:12 pace, which I think is fine two weeks after Tucson and 24 hours after a hard trail run.
And I think I will try the Desert Classic Marathon in February. This may be a course I can do better on.
I still haven't qualified for Boston, even though I've been about as close as you can get. There's a local marathon, the Desert Classic Marathon, on February 19th. Last year, this race was a mess. The location of the race wasn't settled until days before it was run. I'm not sure if it was ever certified.
So, because I wanted to take another shot at qualifying for Boston, I wrote an email to the Arizona Road Racers to find out if the permits were all in place and the course was certified. And I asked for details about the course.
They assured me it would be certified, they had the permits, and I could try out most of the course by running the 30K on Sunday. So even though I ran a very tough, hilly, 10 mile trail run on Saturday, the National Trail in South Mountain to Buena Vista and back, I went out to Surprise to run this 30K on Sunday.
It is all on one road, out and back. It's a gradual uphill on the way out, so downhill coming back to the finish. It's all in the bike lane, as wide as the car lanes, which is plenty wide enough for a small race like this.
I decided that my goal was to run a consistent pace, whatever I could manage. I thought it might be around 8:30 or 9, but I wasn't having any trouble keeping it close to 8 minutes per mile.
I was glad I had my Garmin, as the mile markers were all messed up after 3 miles. Up to that point, they were the same mile markers used by the 5K and the 10K.
From the 4 mile marker out they had mixed up the placement of signs for the out and back, so on the way out, they were .3 miles off, and on the way in, they were .6 off, until you got to 15 miles. A lot of runners without any GPS or good sense of pace and distance thought they were running a terrific pace until they ran a mile and a half between the 14 mile and 15 mile markers.
It wasn't until I hit the turnaround that I realized that one reason I had been able to keep up a good pace on the uphill was that I had a tailwind. Unfortunately, when I turned around, it became a headwind. It wasn't terrible, just always there, varying between noticeable and significant, all the way back.
All the way out, whenever the hills started to get to me, I told myself, "This will help you on the way back. It will be so easy." I didn't feel an earthquake, but there must have been some kind of geological event, because somehow the road had tipped the other way while I was running, and it ended up being uphill both ways.
Somebody caught me from behind near about mile 12, and I pulled in behind him for a while, drafting. Not wanting to be a parasite, I got ahead of him after a while and let him follow me. We traded off a couple of times and caught two other runners this way.
Then he picked it up in the last couple of miles. I didn't have it in me to go faster. I started to do the same drafting then leading with one of the runners we had caught, but he got away from me in the last mile. I was within a few seconds of him at the finish, and it turned out he was third in my age group.
I would say that I could have beaten him if I had tried harder, but truthfully, if I had challenged him, he probably would have given it more kick at the finish.
So I ran it in 2:32:34, an 8:12 pace, which I think is fine two weeks after Tucson and 24 hours after a hard trail run.
And I think I will try the Desert Classic Marathon in February. This may be a course I can do better on.
Saturday, October 1, 2005
St. George Marathon 2005
Got a minute? Or half a minute?
Look at your watch.
I love the Saint George Marathon. I have never run a better organized race. To give you some idea of the organization of this race, (I know you're not going to believe me when I say this, but it's true.) there were more than enough porta-johns at the start of the race.
There were also more than enough cheerful, helpful volunteers at every water stop along the way, and at the finish.
Look at your watch again. How much later is it now than when you looked before?
Time. There it goes. tick...tick...tick...
St. George is famous for the bonfires to keep the runners warm out in the desolate desert before the sun comes up. It does help a lot to create a warm atmosphere in more ways than one.
I started with two friends I trained with who were going to run a similar pace, Jen and Clint. It was Clint's first marathon, and somewhere before the third mile he decided we were going faster than he wanted to. I'm surprised because he was always pushing the pace in training runs. I expected him to finish ahead of me.
On this course, there are lots of downhills, but also uphills. You lose 2600 feet in elevation over the course, but you lose elevation, gain elevation, lose more, gain less, lose a little more...
There's no place to get bored or stuck in a rut. The course is surrounded by magnificent volcanoes, canyons and cliffs, and the terrain is constantly varying. It is one road for 99% of the distance, but it is curving back and forth and rising and falling the whole time.
We stayed pretty close to the pace we needed over the hills in the first half, but after we went over the "last" hill at mile 21. The downhill stretches always ended with a curve and a slight uphill, so we weren't just letting gravity finish the race for us.
Coming up on the water station at mile 23, I could see that I was going to have to push to finish in my goal time of 3:30, so I told Jen I was going to run to the finish, no more water stops. She got water and I didn't see her again until after the finish.
With about a mile and a half to go, my calves started to twinge. It's a familiar feeling. They start to clench and a shiver of dread goes through me.
I tried to run on as hard as I could, without asking my calves to do anything except relax. I turned the last corner and took a last look at my watch, telling myself I would not look again. There was about half a mile to go, and I might just make it in time.
A few hundred more yards on I couldn't keep my calves from cramping without assuming a kind of straight-legged running form. I was limping in as fast as I could, but when I could read the big clock at the finish, it did not look like I was going to make it. I took a last look at my watch and knew it wasn't going to be.
I needed 3:30:59 or less to qualify for Boston, which I have been trying to do for two years. I ran it in 3:31:21
Missed it by 22 seconds.
I've thought of a dozen things that might have made a 22 second difference. One thing I know is that I stepped off the course to pee at about mile 16. If I could do it over again, I would wet my shorts while running. Anyone else think about doing this?
I guess the race is behind me now, and it's time to move on.
I've been telling everyone I'm 90% as happy as I could have been. I cut more than 11 minutes off of my PR. It's not really bad to be satisfied with that.
Thanks for your time.
Look at your watch.
I love the Saint George Marathon. I have never run a better organized race. To give you some idea of the organization of this race, (I know you're not going to believe me when I say this, but it's true.) there were more than enough porta-johns at the start of the race.
There were also more than enough cheerful, helpful volunteers at every water stop along the way, and at the finish.
Look at your watch again. How much later is it now than when you looked before?
Time. There it goes. tick...tick...tick...
St. George is famous for the bonfires to keep the runners warm out in the desolate desert before the sun comes up. It does help a lot to create a warm atmosphere in more ways than one.
I started with two friends I trained with who were going to run a similar pace, Jen and Clint. It was Clint's first marathon, and somewhere before the third mile he decided we were going faster than he wanted to. I'm surprised because he was always pushing the pace in training runs. I expected him to finish ahead of me.
On this course, there are lots of downhills, but also uphills. You lose 2600 feet in elevation over the course, but you lose elevation, gain elevation, lose more, gain less, lose a little more...
There's no place to get bored or stuck in a rut. The course is surrounded by magnificent volcanoes, canyons and cliffs, and the terrain is constantly varying. It is one road for 99% of the distance, but it is curving back and forth and rising and falling the whole time.
We stayed pretty close to the pace we needed over the hills in the first half, but after we went over the "last" hill at mile 21. The downhill stretches always ended with a curve and a slight uphill, so we weren't just letting gravity finish the race for us.
Coming up on the water station at mile 23, I could see that I was going to have to push to finish in my goal time of 3:30, so I told Jen I was going to run to the finish, no more water stops. She got water and I didn't see her again until after the finish.
With about a mile and a half to go, my calves started to twinge. It's a familiar feeling. They start to clench and a shiver of dread goes through me.
I tried to run on as hard as I could, without asking my calves to do anything except relax. I turned the last corner and took a last look at my watch, telling myself I would not look again. There was about half a mile to go, and I might just make it in time.
A few hundred more yards on I couldn't keep my calves from cramping without assuming a kind of straight-legged running form. I was limping in as fast as I could, but when I could read the big clock at the finish, it did not look like I was going to make it. I took a last look at my watch and knew it wasn't going to be.
I needed 3:30:59 or less to qualify for Boston, which I have been trying to do for two years. I ran it in 3:31:21
Missed it by 22 seconds.
I've thought of a dozen things that might have made a 22 second difference. One thing I know is that I stepped off the course to pee at about mile 16. If I could do it over again, I would wet my shorts while running. Anyone else think about doing this?
I guess the race is behind me now, and it's time to move on.
I've been telling everyone I'm 90% as happy as I could have been. I cut more than 11 minutes off of my PR. It's not really bad to be satisfied with that.
Thanks for your time.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Desert Classic 30K 2004
t was beautiful cool morning out in the desert east of Scottsdale. No mile markers no splits. I set out thinking anything under 2:30 would be great considering I ran the Tucson Marathon 13 days ago. But I had no idea what my pace was. I knew I wasn't doing too bad because:
a) I didn't feel like I was dying.
b) I didn't get lapped on the loop we did 3 times.
c) I lapped a few people.
Yeah, we didn't really do what you'd really call a loop. We ran back and forth over the same section of canal bank six times, one way, then the other, then back the way we came...
Not the most exciting course. The canal bank is basically a wide dirt road, cotton fields on one side, the canal on the other. Pretty much a straight line, absolutely flat.
We started out at the college, ran down the street to where we could turn onto the canal, out and back and out and back.... I was really glad when we finally got to go back onto the pavement toward the school.
One of the things about a course like this that doubles back over itself is that you see almost everyone in the race, the speedsters in the front, and the people struggling in the back. Today I was proud to be a runner, proud to be in the same competition with some very athletic people, proud to be ahead of a lot of people who were well and truly racing. It was good to be out there.
Great weather, sunny and cool, but the sun was in your eyes at least half the time. I know my pace was really falling off in the last couple of miles. That's the thing about a race this long. It ends at about the point where, when I'm in a marathon, I start to ask myself, "Isn't that long enough? Why's it have to be 26.2? Why not 20? 18?"
Anyway, only three people passed me in those last miles. There were only a little over 200 runners.
My legs were complaining, and I just told myself that this was not my goal race.
I had nothing to prove and I didn't want to do anything that would take a lot of recovery time. So I didn't really try to kick in. I finished knowing I was going slower than I could.
I finished in 2:27:44, which I'm very happy with.
I was 6th in my age group, but I got a very nice finisher's button. Not a medal, button, or maybe you'd call it a pin, a little round piece of tin or aluminum with a pin on the back. I didn't expect a medal, so this was cool.
a) I didn't feel like I was dying.
b) I didn't get lapped on the loop we did 3 times.
c) I lapped a few people.
Yeah, we didn't really do what you'd really call a loop. We ran back and forth over the same section of canal bank six times, one way, then the other, then back the way we came...
Not the most exciting course. The canal bank is basically a wide dirt road, cotton fields on one side, the canal on the other. Pretty much a straight line, absolutely flat.
We started out at the college, ran down the street to where we could turn onto the canal, out and back and out and back.... I was really glad when we finally got to go back onto the pavement toward the school.
One of the things about a course like this that doubles back over itself is that you see almost everyone in the race, the speedsters in the front, and the people struggling in the back. Today I was proud to be a runner, proud to be in the same competition with some very athletic people, proud to be ahead of a lot of people who were well and truly racing. It was good to be out there.
Great weather, sunny and cool, but the sun was in your eyes at least half the time. I know my pace was really falling off in the last couple of miles. That's the thing about a race this long. It ends at about the point where, when I'm in a marathon, I start to ask myself, "Isn't that long enough? Why's it have to be 26.2? Why not 20? 18?"
Anyway, only three people passed me in those last miles. There were only a little over 200 runners.
My legs were complaining, and I just told myself that this was not my goal race.
I had nothing to prove and I didn't want to do anything that would take a lot of recovery time. So I didn't really try to kick in. I finished knowing I was going slower than I could.
I finished in 2:27:44, which I'm very happy with.
I was 6th in my age group, but I got a very nice finisher's button. Not a medal, button, or maybe you'd call it a pin, a little round piece of tin or aluminum with a pin on the back. I didn't expect a medal, so this was cool.
Sunday, December 5, 2004
Tucson Marathon 2004
Well,
This marathon was about par for me, which is really depressing because I had high hopes. My training and racing has been going well. I thought I had put in enough long runs. I trained with a Galloway group, and was trying walk breaks for the first time. I hoped they would leave me with enough energy to have a good finish.
I had some issues which may have had an effect on my race.
I ran a pretty good half marathon, but was struggling by the end.
3:50:28
You folks who love the cold and the snow are welcome to it. It was freezing in Tucson yesterday. There was snow visible in the hills just a couple of miles away from the road. I'm sure some of you would have been fine with it, but I'm acclimated to Phoenix weather now.
These splits seem terribly inconsistent, but the only reason for that early in the race is the uphill and downhill sections. This course has a lot of downhill in the first half.
1 7:43
2 7:20 15:03
4 15:52 30:54 (2 miles at 7:56/mile)
5 7:14 38:08
6 7:41 45:48 (had a Carb BOOM)
7 7:37 53:25
8 7:37 1:01:02
9 7:49 1:08:52
10 8:19 1:17:10 (checked blood sugar: high)
11 7:40 1:24:50
12 7:37 1:32:27
13 7:58 1:40:25
14 8:26 1:48:52
15 8:22 1:57:14
16 10:09 2:07:23 (pit stop)
17 8:01 2:15:25 (feeling better, no more walk breaks)
18 7:58 2:23:24
19 8:45 2:32:08 (checked blood sugar: high)
20 10:53 2:43:01 (struggling again)
21 9:34 2:52:35
22 11:15 3:03:50 (only goal is to finish now)
23 9:39 3:13:29
24 12:22 3:25:51
25 9:57 3:35:48
26 12:42 3:48:30
26.1 1:55 3:50:28
This marathon was about par for me, which is really depressing because I had high hopes. My training and racing has been going well. I thought I had put in enough long runs. I trained with a Galloway group, and was trying walk breaks for the first time. I hoped they would leave me with enough energy to have a good finish.
I had some issues which may have had an effect on my race.
I ran a pretty good half marathon, but was struggling by the end.
3:50:28
You folks who love the cold and the snow are welcome to it. It was freezing in Tucson yesterday. There was snow visible in the hills just a couple of miles away from the road. I'm sure some of you would have been fine with it, but I'm acclimated to Phoenix weather now.
These splits seem terribly inconsistent, but the only reason for that early in the race is the uphill and downhill sections. This course has a lot of downhill in the first half.
1 7:43
2 7:20 15:03
4 15:52 30:54 (2 miles at 7:56/mile)
5 7:14 38:08
6 7:41 45:48 (had a Carb BOOM)
7 7:37 53:25
8 7:37 1:01:02
9 7:49 1:08:52
10 8:19 1:17:10 (checked blood sugar: high)
11 7:40 1:24:50
12 7:37 1:32:27
13 7:58 1:40:25
14 8:26 1:48:52
15 8:22 1:57:14
16 10:09 2:07:23 (pit stop)
17 8:01 2:15:25 (feeling better, no more walk breaks)
18 7:58 2:23:24
19 8:45 2:32:08 (checked blood sugar: high)
20 10:53 2:43:01 (struggling again)
21 9:34 2:52:35
22 11:15 3:03:50 (only goal is to finish now)
23 9:39 3:13:29
24 12:22 3:25:51
25 9:57 3:35:48
26 12:42 3:48:30
26.1 1:55 3:50:28
Saturday, September 25, 2004
I-Did-A-Run 10K 2004
I went to the I-Did-A-Run race this morning thinking I would run the 5K. I had registered a few weeks ago, and when I got my bib, it said I was running the 10K. I forgot what I signed up for.
I didn't expect much because I was as sore from last Sunday's Grand Canyon crossing as I would have been from a marathon. But I felt fine warming up, and when the race started I cruised pretty easily at a good pace through the first mile. Here are my splits, but you can see that the course measurement was all messed up.
The 10K was just once more over the same loop as the 5K.
The third mile (also the sixth) had to be short. The whole course had to be short. I was thrilled to run close to 43 minutes in February. Most of my recent 5K times have been around 21 minutes. There's no way I ran a 10K in that time on a dirt trail a week after crossing the Grand Canyon.
A volunteer near the finish said that the course was 2 tenths of a mile short.
That would still put my time between 42 and 43 minutes.
I got third in my age group. I finished with a good kick. I know I could run faster if I was more rested.
I feel pretty good about this, but I have to wait to see if I can do well in another race, because I'm so uncertain about this one.
I didn't expect much because I was as sore from last Sunday's Grand Canyon crossing as I would have been from a marathon. But I felt fine warming up, and when the race started I cruised pretty easily at a good pace through the first mile. Here are my splits, but you can see that the course measurement was all messed up.
The 10K was just once more over the same loop as the 5K.
mile time split
1 6:37
2 13:42 7:05
3 19:24 5:42
3.1 20:06
4 26:43 7:19
5 33:39 6:56
6 39:29 5:51
6.2 40:49 1:20
The third mile (also the sixth) had to be short. The whole course had to be short. I was thrilled to run close to 43 minutes in February. Most of my recent 5K times have been around 21 minutes. There's no way I ran a 10K in that time on a dirt trail a week after crossing the Grand Canyon.
A volunteer near the finish said that the course was 2 tenths of a mile short.
That would still put my time between 42 and 43 minutes.
I got third in my age group. I finished with a good kick. I know I could run faster if I was more rested.
I feel pretty good about this, but I have to wait to see if I can do well in another race, because I'm so uncertain about this one.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Grand Canyon Crossing 2004
The plan was to start out around 5:30 am on Sunday morning down the South Kaibab Trail.
Saturday night it stormed all night. There was constant thunder and lightning, often close enough to shake the building. At 5 am we met and decided that heat, the primary reason for going early in the morning, was not going to be an issue. It didn't make sense to start out in the dark in a storm without any certainty how far we could get on the trail.
We decided to meet again at 8, look at what our options were, and decide what to do.
Some people went and got a good breakfast at the cafeteria when it opened at 7. I wish I had done that, but I only had a Clif bar around 5, before plans changed.
At 8 it seemed like everything was decided by the time I got there. I had turned my insulin basal rate down when I thought we were running at 5:30 and turned it back up to normal when I didn't know when we would start.
We were about 24 altogether, and 7 people were only planning to go one way. All 7 of those who were going one way and 3 who didn't want to risk the trail on Sunday were going to take one of our vans around to the other side.
Someone told someone that the South Kaibab Trail was blocked by a boulder, so we would have to take the Bright Angel Trail. We found out later that several people hiked past the boulder and the trail was cleared fairly quickly. There were many times that day when we simply had to go around or over rock slides.
So 14 of us started out straight from the lodge and down the trail in pouring rain, with the other side of the canyon obscured by thick fog.
At the trailhead we met two hikers who had been standing at the edge trying to decide if they should cancel their plans to go down to Phantom Ranch. We took them with us and started in.
It didn't seem like anyone wanted to run. The trail was often a stream, and there were lots of minor mud and rock slides, but the footing wasn't too bad.
I guess a few people felt like they were warmed up enough and started jogging down. Most remained in the back and kept walking. I started running about a mile in.
I was concerned about my blood sugar because I had left my pump at the normal basal rate instead of turning it down. When I checked at the second water stop, 3 miles down, it was actually too high, 260. I was sure that it would start to drop and I would be okay, but I needed to monitor it.
Two guys were coming up, soaked to the skin, one in a tee shirt and one in a flannel plaid shirt. They had hiked down the night before, gotten caught in the rain, and spent the night in the restrooms at Indian Garden.
At Indian Garden, 4.5 miles in, my blood sugar was still higher. I remembered that the same sort of thing had happened when I hiked into the Canyon in April. I am thinking that this has something to do with the pressure and my pump. As the air pressure rises while I am going downhill, the working of the pump to deliver a basal rate is really only equalizing the pressure. That's a guess, anyway. Anyway, I bolused some insulin.
Some hikers coming up with trekking poles told us we should abort, that we weren't going to be able to cross some of the streams they had crossed.
But the rain had pretty much let up, and the run off had to be much less by the time we got to whatever they were talking about.
There was no way to keep your feet dry. I had to wade through a couple of places where I couldn't find any other way. I was frequently running at the edge of puddles that filled the trail.
By the time we got through the Devil's Cork Screw, it wasn't raining, and it was warming up as we crossed the Silver Bridge over the Colorado River.
Someone later said it was 92 in Phantom Ranch, at the bottom of the Canyon. My blood sugar there was still 280, so I bolused again. I got a cup of coffee, but I still didn't eat anything. Everyone else in the group I was with was fueling up.
My quads were hurting pretty much by that time, but I wasn't worried about finishing that day. I was worried about how much I would have left for the second day, though.
This has gotten way longer than I intended. Anyway, the descent was the fun part. I can summarize the rest of the trip.
I jogged pretty well through Cottonwood. My blood sugar was finally down to 90, so I ate a pretty good meal, some crackers and a Clif Bar.
After that I was walking more than jogging, especially that nasty hill right before you get to the bridge to Ribbon Falls, I had enough energy to take the detour to Ribbon Falls, although in hindsight, I could have used that energy later.
Note of actually useful information:
When Bright Angel Creek is not high, it is possible to hike around that hill right before the bridge to Ribbon Falls. Watch for the sign if the Creek is low, and you can save yourself some unnecessary pain.
Anyway after that I walked all of the uphills, which is virtually everything.
My blood sugar was consistently good when I checked it until right after the last bridge. Then it was 74, a little low, so I ate some more.
I actually jogged across that last bridge, but it was painful to do that, and I was finding it hard to imagine going back the next day. I walked slower and slower toward the top.
I got some more energy after going through the Supai Tunnel, but I started to cramp with less than a mile to go. I had to walk fifty yards then stop for a minute before going on, over and over.
It was clear but cool that night, and freezing the next morning. I opted not to get up at 5:15 to run back. Instead I rode around in the van after sleeping until 7 and eating two breakfasts.
All of the fastest people were already out when we got to the South Rim, but I was able to walk down a mile and meet the stragglers coming up.
I know, I wimped out. I will regret it for at least a year.
My excuses are:
a) stupidly raced a half marathon the weekend before.
b) didn't get started when I was ready.
c) wasn't able to eat anything until 17 miles into it, only a Clif Bar for breakfast hours before starting.
d) I'm a wimp.
But it was a great adventure. And while I didn't do a double crossing, I did cross in a day, (something around 9 hours) in the more difficult direction, (North Rim is 1000' higher altitude than South) in a storm.
PS: That's a pretty long post. Maybe it's a good thing I didn't go both ways.
Saturday night it stormed all night. There was constant thunder and lightning, often close enough to shake the building. At 5 am we met and decided that heat, the primary reason for going early in the morning, was not going to be an issue. It didn't make sense to start out in the dark in a storm without any certainty how far we could get on the trail.
We decided to meet again at 8, look at what our options were, and decide what to do.
Some people went and got a good breakfast at the cafeteria when it opened at 7. I wish I had done that, but I only had a Clif bar around 5, before plans changed.
At 8 it seemed like everything was decided by the time I got there. I had turned my insulin basal rate down when I thought we were running at 5:30 and turned it back up to normal when I didn't know when we would start.
We were about 24 altogether, and 7 people were only planning to go one way. All 7 of those who were going one way and 3 who didn't want to risk the trail on Sunday were going to take one of our vans around to the other side.
Someone told someone that the South Kaibab Trail was blocked by a boulder, so we would have to take the Bright Angel Trail. We found out later that several people hiked past the boulder and the trail was cleared fairly quickly. There were many times that day when we simply had to go around or over rock slides.
So 14 of us started out straight from the lodge and down the trail in pouring rain, with the other side of the canyon obscured by thick fog.
At the trailhead we met two hikers who had been standing at the edge trying to decide if they should cancel their plans to go down to Phantom Ranch. We took them with us and started in.
It didn't seem like anyone wanted to run. The trail was often a stream, and there were lots of minor mud and rock slides, but the footing wasn't too bad.
I guess a few people felt like they were warmed up enough and started jogging down. Most remained in the back and kept walking. I started running about a mile in.
I was concerned about my blood sugar because I had left my pump at the normal basal rate instead of turning it down. When I checked at the second water stop, 3 miles down, it was actually too high, 260. I was sure that it would start to drop and I would be okay, but I needed to monitor it.
Two guys were coming up, soaked to the skin, one in a tee shirt and one in a flannel plaid shirt. They had hiked down the night before, gotten caught in the rain, and spent the night in the restrooms at Indian Garden.
At Indian Garden, 4.5 miles in, my blood sugar was still higher. I remembered that the same sort of thing had happened when I hiked into the Canyon in April. I am thinking that this has something to do with the pressure and my pump. As the air pressure rises while I am going downhill, the working of the pump to deliver a basal rate is really only equalizing the pressure. That's a guess, anyway. Anyway, I bolused some insulin.
Some hikers coming up with trekking poles told us we should abort, that we weren't going to be able to cross some of the streams they had crossed.
But the rain had pretty much let up, and the run off had to be much less by the time we got to whatever they were talking about.
There was no way to keep your feet dry. I had to wade through a couple of places where I couldn't find any other way. I was frequently running at the edge of puddles that filled the trail.
By the time we got through the Devil's Cork Screw, it wasn't raining, and it was warming up as we crossed the Silver Bridge over the Colorado River.
Someone later said it was 92 in Phantom Ranch, at the bottom of the Canyon. My blood sugar there was still 280, so I bolused again. I got a cup of coffee, but I still didn't eat anything. Everyone else in the group I was with was fueling up.
My quads were hurting pretty much by that time, but I wasn't worried about finishing that day. I was worried about how much I would have left for the second day, though.
This has gotten way longer than I intended. Anyway, the descent was the fun part. I can summarize the rest of the trip.
I jogged pretty well through Cottonwood. My blood sugar was finally down to 90, so I ate a pretty good meal, some crackers and a Clif Bar.
After that I was walking more than jogging, especially that nasty hill right before you get to the bridge to Ribbon Falls, I had enough energy to take the detour to Ribbon Falls, although in hindsight, I could have used that energy later.
Note of actually useful information:
When Bright Angel Creek is not high, it is possible to hike around that hill right before the bridge to Ribbon Falls. Watch for the sign if the Creek is low, and you can save yourself some unnecessary pain.
Anyway after that I walked all of the uphills, which is virtually everything.
My blood sugar was consistently good when I checked it until right after the last bridge. Then it was 74, a little low, so I ate some more.
I actually jogged across that last bridge, but it was painful to do that, and I was finding it hard to imagine going back the next day. I walked slower and slower toward the top.
I got some more energy after going through the Supai Tunnel, but I started to cramp with less than a mile to go. I had to walk fifty yards then stop for a minute before going on, over and over.
It was clear but cool that night, and freezing the next morning. I opted not to get up at 5:15 to run back. Instead I rode around in the van after sleeping until 7 and eating two breakfasts.
All of the fastest people were already out when we got to the South Rim, but I was able to walk down a mile and meet the stragglers coming up.
I know, I wimped out. I will regret it for at least a year.
My excuses are:
a) stupidly raced a half marathon the weekend before.
b) didn't get started when I was ready.
c) wasn't able to eat anything until 17 miles into it, only a Clif Bar for breakfast hours before starting.
d) I'm a wimp.
But it was a great adventure. And while I didn't do a double crossing, I did cross in a day, (something around 9 hours) in the more difficult direction, (North Rim is 1000' higher altitude than South) in a storm.
PS: That's a pretty long post. Maybe it's a good thing I didn't go both ways.
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