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.
Thursday, September 2, 2004
3000 euros
I know we were all just about done discussing this, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. So here are some of my thoughts. Forgive me for rambling.
3000 euros.
How do you put a value on training to be one of the best in the world at one of the most grueling sports in the world?
How do you put a price on years of running, early mornings, late nights, through the heat, through the cold, dozens of long, slow miles some days, dozens of intervals of near top speed around and around a track on others.
We cannot hope for the bastard in a skirt and a beret with matching stockings to understand the magnitude of his crime. It is tempting to say that for several months we should yank him from bed every Sunday morning at 4 am and pull him down empty streets, over rocky trails, up and down hills for four hours. We could drag him around a track at under 4:30 per mile for up to 20 miles, giving him a brief rest between each mile, and repeat this every Wednesday for several months.
We could do things like this, but he still would have no concept of what it would take for him to put himself through it, to drive himself through it with his own will.
Even those of us who have run a marathon can only imagine what it must have been like for Vanderlei de Lima to be running the race of his life, at the front of a field of some of the world's best athletes who have all worked very hard, for months and years, to try to beat him on that one day. His body, mind, and soul were committed to one goal. Then he was violently, senselessly, heartlessly attacked, and he was chosen for attack for the very fact that he was in the lead.
I've heard people analyze the look on de Lima's face, his stride, every nuance before and after the attack, to try to determine whether he could have won.
We always talk about how much of this physical competition is mental, and de Lima was physically assaulted, emotionally disrupted, and mentally distracted at a critical point in the race.
No one knows how the race would have ended.
No one should dare to say that he would not have won.
What value does the world place on the Olympics? Millions are thrown about for media contracts, endorsements, rebuilding ancient arenas, building modern ones. But that's all only money.
When we try to put it in terms of money, we cannot place a high enough value on the Olympic spirit.
3000 euros?
Something is out of balance.
3000 euros.
How do you put a value on training to be one of the best in the world at one of the most grueling sports in the world?
How do you put a price on years of running, early mornings, late nights, through the heat, through the cold, dozens of long, slow miles some days, dozens of intervals of near top speed around and around a track on others.
We cannot hope for the bastard in a skirt and a beret with matching stockings to understand the magnitude of his crime. It is tempting to say that for several months we should yank him from bed every Sunday morning at 4 am and pull him down empty streets, over rocky trails, up and down hills for four hours. We could drag him around a track at under 4:30 per mile for up to 20 miles, giving him a brief rest between each mile, and repeat this every Wednesday for several months.
We could do things like this, but he still would have no concept of what it would take for him to put himself through it, to drive himself through it with his own will.
Even those of us who have run a marathon can only imagine what it must have been like for Vanderlei de Lima to be running the race of his life, at the front of a field of some of the world's best athletes who have all worked very hard, for months and years, to try to beat him on that one day. His body, mind, and soul were committed to one goal. Then he was violently, senselessly, heartlessly attacked, and he was chosen for attack for the very fact that he was in the lead.
I've heard people analyze the look on de Lima's face, his stride, every nuance before and after the attack, to try to determine whether he could have won.
We always talk about how much of this physical competition is mental, and de Lima was physically assaulted, emotionally disrupted, and mentally distracted at a critical point in the race.
No one knows how the race would have ended.
No one should dare to say that he would not have won.
What value does the world place on the Olympics? Millions are thrown about for media contracts, endorsements, rebuilding ancient arenas, building modern ones. But that's all only money.
When we try to put it in terms of money, we cannot place a high enough value on the Olympic spirit.
3000 euros?
Something is out of balance.
Sunday, June 6, 2004
Sacred Mountain Prayer Run 10K
Yesterday I ran the 21st Annual NACA (Native Americans for Community Action) Sacred Mountain Prayer Run 10K at Thorpe Park in Flagstaff, AZ.
The temperature was 76 F when I left my house in Chandler about 3:15 am, and it was about 46 F when I arrived at the park in Flagstaff around 5:50. The sun was already up, and people were setting up for registration. I was the first late registrant to get a number, then I went back and took a nap in my car.
It was nearing 7 when I got out again, and with the race scheduled to start at 7:30, I thought I should start warming up. I could feel that it had warmed up quite a bit already. It was probably in the 60s. I took a jog along the first mile of the course, a pretty significant hill. I went slow, just jogging along, but it still was making me breathe a little too hard. Flagstaff is at about 7000 ft in elevation.
After I turned around back toward the start, a guy who had passed me on the way out was going out again. I thought he must be crazy, not just because he was doing that hill again, but because it was getting close to time for the race to start.
I found out later that this race has many traditions, including that it never gets started on time.
I checked my blood sugar and it was 119, which is high normal. That would be fine for me, but with all of those hills, I was a little concerned that it might drive my blood sugar down too steeply. I considered having a little gatorade before the race, to be on the safe side. I even grabbed a paper cup and got some, but i just held on to it, planning to drink it when I saw them getting ready to start.
Half an hour later, there was still no sign that they were going to start soon.
I could feel my heart pounding, from the adrenalin in anticipation of the race.
Adrenalin can drive the blood sugar up. I checked my blood sugar again, and it was 188.
Well, I thought that would be okay, once I started burning it up out on the course.
This being the "Prayer Run" I thought there would be some sort of ceremony before the race, but there wasn't one, or I missed it. I told myself I should say a prayer, but I forgot until after I was racing.
The temperature was continuing to rise. I'm not sure how hot it was, but I heard it was in the 90s in Prescott that day, a few miles away.
They finally started the 5K, then had the 10K runners line up for their start.
The race director said, "We're going to start this with 3 and two and then go. Okay, Ready? 3-2-GO!" and that was the start of the race. I was reminded of the knife fight in "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."
I was breathing hard through the whole race. There was nothing I could do about it.
The hills drove me to pant, and there was never enough level ground for me get control of it. I'm sure the elevation affected me. I was also crusted with sweat by the time I finished, and I'm sure I was dehydrated. I was starting to cramp in my calves and hamstrings in the last mile, coming downhill.
I checked my blood sugar after the finish, and it was 353, which is outrageously high, even for me. I also had a headache which hit me like a wave, but didn't stick. I think it may have been some mild effect of the altitude.
Here are my splits:
1. 8:19 - that first steep mile
2. 8:57 - it didn't get any better
3. 8:24 - still rolling hills
4. 9:02 - same, but I am feeling beat
5. 7:42 - coming down finally
6.2 8:15 - feeling awful
So I ran a 50:49 10K on a hilly, dirt trail course at 7000 feet in 80 plus temperatures.
That's a slower pace than I ran on a very hilly half marathon at altitude 4 weeks ago. I am more sore today than I was after the half marathon, too.
Oh, well, It wasn't my day for racing well, but it was a challenge, which is what I had gone looking for. It's a beautiful area to run through. I saw a grey fox walking through the park before the race. I may do it again next year. I'm not going to let it beat me.
The temperature was 76 F when I left my house in Chandler about 3:15 am, and it was about 46 F when I arrived at the park in Flagstaff around 5:50. The sun was already up, and people were setting up for registration. I was the first late registrant to get a number, then I went back and took a nap in my car.
It was nearing 7 when I got out again, and with the race scheduled to start at 7:30, I thought I should start warming up. I could feel that it had warmed up quite a bit already. It was probably in the 60s. I took a jog along the first mile of the course, a pretty significant hill. I went slow, just jogging along, but it still was making me breathe a little too hard. Flagstaff is at about 7000 ft in elevation.
After I turned around back toward the start, a guy who had passed me on the way out was going out again. I thought he must be crazy, not just because he was doing that hill again, but because it was getting close to time for the race to start.
I found out later that this race has many traditions, including that it never gets started on time.
I checked my blood sugar and it was 119, which is high normal. That would be fine for me, but with all of those hills, I was a little concerned that it might drive my blood sugar down too steeply. I considered having a little gatorade before the race, to be on the safe side. I even grabbed a paper cup and got some, but i just held on to it, planning to drink it when I saw them getting ready to start.
Half an hour later, there was still no sign that they were going to start soon.
I could feel my heart pounding, from the adrenalin in anticipation of the race.
Adrenalin can drive the blood sugar up. I checked my blood sugar again, and it was 188.
Well, I thought that would be okay, once I started burning it up out on the course.
This being the "Prayer Run" I thought there would be some sort of ceremony before the race, but there wasn't one, or I missed it. I told myself I should say a prayer, but I forgot until after I was racing.
The temperature was continuing to rise. I'm not sure how hot it was, but I heard it was in the 90s in Prescott that day, a few miles away.
They finally started the 5K, then had the 10K runners line up for their start.
The race director said, "We're going to start this with 3 and two and then go. Okay, Ready? 3-2-GO!" and that was the start of the race. I was reminded of the knife fight in "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."
I was breathing hard through the whole race. There was nothing I could do about it.
The hills drove me to pant, and there was never enough level ground for me get control of it. I'm sure the elevation affected me. I was also crusted with sweat by the time I finished, and I'm sure I was dehydrated. I was starting to cramp in my calves and hamstrings in the last mile, coming downhill.
I checked my blood sugar after the finish, and it was 353, which is outrageously high, even for me. I also had a headache which hit me like a wave, but didn't stick. I think it may have been some mild effect of the altitude.
Here are my splits:
1. 8:19 - that first steep mile
2. 8:57 - it didn't get any better
3. 8:24 - still rolling hills
4. 9:02 - same, but I am feeling beat
5. 7:42 - coming down finally
6.2 8:15 - feeling awful
So I ran a 50:49 10K on a hilly, dirt trail course at 7000 feet in 80 plus temperatures.
That's a slower pace than I ran on a very hilly half marathon at altitude 4 weeks ago. I am more sore today than I was after the half marathon, too.
Oh, well, It wasn't my day for racing well, but it was a challenge, which is what I had gone looking for. It's a beautiful area to run through. I saw a grey fox walking through the park before the race. I may do it again next year. I'm not going to let it beat me.
Sunday, May 30, 2004
ARR Summer Series 5K #1 2004
I ran the first of the five Arizona Road Racers Summer Series 5K races.
It was held in beautiful but weird Papago Park, on a very nice morning for Phoenix. It was 68 F when I left the house at 5 am, and only in the 80s by the time the race was over.
I had agreed to help out at this race, so I ended up being used as a runner, running batches of filled out race entries from the registration tables to the timing table where the timer was doing his level best to get them all entered into the computer. It was interesting, and kept me warmed up and occupied while waiting for the race to start.
This race is especially complicated because it is age and gender handicapped.
Each person is given a starting time based on how old they are and whether they are male or female. As a 45 year old male, my starting time was 12:19 after the gun.
This starting procedure, and the popularity of this race, and the fact that the course doubles back on itself, makes for a very crowded race from start to finish. You are always weaving through slower people who started ahead of you. Then, near the turnaround, there are runners in both directions. there is no clear marking of which side runners should stick to, so there was a lot of dodging and stutter-stepping.
Still, it's a very fun race. Because of the crowding, the rolling hills, and the loose dirt on part of the course, it is not a place to run a PR. but I didn't race really well. I ran a 21:37.
That was much better than I did last year, though. I can't believe I've been in Phoenix that long.
So the result of this handicapped start was that a 14 year old boy won, a 41 year old woman finished second, and a 53 year old man came in third.
It was held in beautiful but weird Papago Park, on a very nice morning for Phoenix. It was 68 F when I left the house at 5 am, and only in the 80s by the time the race was over.
I had agreed to help out at this race, so I ended up being used as a runner, running batches of filled out race entries from the registration tables to the timing table where the timer was doing his level best to get them all entered into the computer. It was interesting, and kept me warmed up and occupied while waiting for the race to start.
This race is especially complicated because it is age and gender handicapped.
Each person is given a starting time based on how old they are and whether they are male or female. As a 45 year old male, my starting time was 12:19 after the gun.
This starting procedure, and the popularity of this race, and the fact that the course doubles back on itself, makes for a very crowded race from start to finish. You are always weaving through slower people who started ahead of you. Then, near the turnaround, there are runners in both directions. there is no clear marking of which side runners should stick to, so there was a lot of dodging and stutter-stepping.
Still, it's a very fun race. Because of the crowding, the rolling hills, and the loose dirt on part of the course, it is not a place to run a PR. but I didn't race really well. I ran a 21:37.
That was much better than I did last year, though. I can't believe I've been in Phoenix that long.
So the result of this handicapped start was that a 14 year old boy won, a 41 year old woman finished second, and a 53 year old man came in third.
Monday, May 10, 2004
Sara Courtney Memorial 10K/Scottsdale Night Run for the Arts 8K
Sara Courtney Memorial 10K
The sun was just coming over the mountains when I got to Sabino Canyon Saturday morning. I had enough time to get registered and loosen up a bit. Someone gave a speech about how this event would benefit the community, and a woman with a very nice voice sang the Star Spangled Banner a capella with no amplification. It was very impressive and moving. I later heard there were more than 600 participants, so there was a pretty good crowd at the start, and she reached us all.
The start was tame. I knew it would be hilly, and some of the front runners were folks who had been talking before the start about how often they ran this road. So I thought I should let them set the pace. It was slow enough so that if I had wanted, I could have taken the lead for a few hundred yards.
We hit a marker that said "5 miles" at about 3:30 into the race. It may have been the half mile mark. There were markers later in the race set half a mile apart. The uphill at the start was gradual, but it seemed that the lead group had just been warming up earlier, and they sped up as it got steeper.
I saw no marker for the first mile. I was still close to the leaders when the first 5 K runner came back past me. He was the only person I saw in the 5 K until later in the race. I found out at the end that I could have easily taken second overall in that race, just running the same pace I ran in the 10 K. I passed a couple of runners who had gone out too fast, and I was pretty much alone when I got to mile 2 in 14:59.
The next marker said "3 miles 10K turnaround," which makes me doubt the accuracy of the measurement of these distances. My time at the turnaround was 23:13, an 8:14 mile, or 1.2 miles.
Back to mile 4 was downhill, still running alone. 29:55 and the same 1 or 1.2 in 6:42.
4.5 (The 5K turnaround) 33:18
5.0 (A different 5 mile marker) 36:54, 6:58 from the 4 mile marker.
It had been cool at the start, and it was shady through most of the canyon. But coming out of the canyon, after the sun had been up for a while, and I was getting out of the shelter of the canyon walls, it was hot.
There was one steep hill right after the 5 mile point, and as I was chugging up it, I was caught from behind. The other runner gave me a word of encouragement, and I had to ask him, "How old are you?"
He said he was 32 and asked if that made me feel better. It did, and I told him so.
I reached the finish in 43:56, 7:02 from the 5 mile mark.
That was good enough for 8th overall, but I don't know how I did in my age group. At least one, and probably more of the runners ahead of me were in the same group.
Even though the web site had said that there would be awards for the first three in "different ages," there was no apparently no effort made to do that.
They gave awards to the top three men and women in each of the two races, and that was it.
But they apparently raised about $50K for diabetes research and education at U of A.
I made a point of wearing my Team Diabetes racing singlet for this race, but I was surprised not to see any other Team D shirts, or anything anyone was wearing that related to diabetes.
Oh, well.
I had driven down that morning starting at 4:15. My car was all right on the way down, but the radiator gave out on the way back. I stopped to refill it on the way back, but it was overheating again by the time I got home.
Scottsdale Night Run for the Arts 8K
The Night Run for the Arts was a great event, but the crowd was a little too much at the start of the race.
Here's why I say it's a great event:
Chip-timed.
Night race through Scottsdale, galleries, museums, nightclubs, bars, parks, suburbs.
Food.
Live entertainment, a very good cover band playing 80s/90s hits.
Results scrolling on a large projection screen.
I went into too much detail in the previous race, so I'll just give the vitals on this one.
2.0 13:48 (6:54)
3.0 21:01 7:13
4.0 28:25 7:23
4.96 35:29 7:04 (7:09 pace)
I think I was 50th overall. I can't remember. I was definitely 5th in my age group.
In both of these races I was extremely overheated, feeling like my car, when I finished. I struggled to get some water, but I don't drink very well during these shorter races.
Anyway, I think I put in two fair races and got some good speed work done.
The sun was just coming over the mountains when I got to Sabino Canyon Saturday morning. I had enough time to get registered and loosen up a bit. Someone gave a speech about how this event would benefit the community, and a woman with a very nice voice sang the Star Spangled Banner a capella with no amplification. It was very impressive and moving. I later heard there were more than 600 participants, so there was a pretty good crowd at the start, and she reached us all.
The start was tame. I knew it would be hilly, and some of the front runners were folks who had been talking before the start about how often they ran this road. So I thought I should let them set the pace. It was slow enough so that if I had wanted, I could have taken the lead for a few hundred yards.
We hit a marker that said "5 miles" at about 3:30 into the race. It may have been the half mile mark. There were markers later in the race set half a mile apart. The uphill at the start was gradual, but it seemed that the lead group had just been warming up earlier, and they sped up as it got steeper.
I saw no marker for the first mile. I was still close to the leaders when the first 5 K runner came back past me. He was the only person I saw in the 5 K until later in the race. I found out at the end that I could have easily taken second overall in that race, just running the same pace I ran in the 10 K. I passed a couple of runners who had gone out too fast, and I was pretty much alone when I got to mile 2 in 14:59.
The next marker said "3 miles 10K turnaround," which makes me doubt the accuracy of the measurement of these distances. My time at the turnaround was 23:13, an 8:14 mile, or 1.2 miles.
Back to mile 4 was downhill, still running alone. 29:55 and the same 1 or 1.2 in 6:42.
4.5 (The 5K turnaround) 33:18
5.0 (A different 5 mile marker) 36:54, 6:58 from the 4 mile marker.
It had been cool at the start, and it was shady through most of the canyon. But coming out of the canyon, after the sun had been up for a while, and I was getting out of the shelter of the canyon walls, it was hot.
There was one steep hill right after the 5 mile point, and as I was chugging up it, I was caught from behind. The other runner gave me a word of encouragement, and I had to ask him, "How old are you?"
He said he was 32 and asked if that made me feel better. It did, and I told him so.
I reached the finish in 43:56, 7:02 from the 5 mile mark.
That was good enough for 8th overall, but I don't know how I did in my age group. At least one, and probably more of the runners ahead of me were in the same group.
Even though the web site had said that there would be awards for the first three in "different ages," there was no apparently no effort made to do that.
They gave awards to the top three men and women in each of the two races, and that was it.
But they apparently raised about $50K for diabetes research and education at U of A.
I made a point of wearing my Team Diabetes racing singlet for this race, but I was surprised not to see any other Team D shirts, or anything anyone was wearing that related to diabetes.
Oh, well.
I had driven down that morning starting at 4:15. My car was all right on the way down, but the radiator gave out on the way back. I stopped to refill it on the way back, but it was overheating again by the time I got home.
Scottsdale Night Run for the Arts 8K
The Night Run for the Arts was a great event, but the crowd was a little too much at the start of the race.
Here's why I say it's a great event:
Chip-timed.
Night race through Scottsdale, galleries, museums, nightclubs, bars, parks, suburbs.
Food.
Live entertainment, a very good cover band playing 80s/90s hits.
Results scrolling on a large projection screen.
I went into too much detail in the previous race, so I'll just give the vitals on this one.
2.0 13:48 (6:54)
3.0 21:01 7:13
4.0 28:25 7:23
4.96 35:29 7:04 (7:09 pace)
I think I was 50th overall. I can't remember. I was definitely 5th in my age group.
In both of these races I was extremely overheated, feeling like my car, when I finished. I struggled to get some water, but I don't drink very well during these shorter races.
Anyway, I think I put in two fair races and got some good speed work done.
Saturday, May 1, 2004
Whiskey Row Half Marathon 2004
I had toyed with the idea of running the Whiskey Row Marathon this weekend, in spite of not having trained for it. Some time in the past couple of weeks I decided just to do the half. The Whiskey Row Marathon was included in a Runners world list of the toughest five marathons in the country.
The Half would be a challenging run, but I was sure that it wouldn't kill me. I decided to "train through it" more or less. I didn't do anything especially tough the past week, but I did my doctorvals on Tuesday and a six mile tempo run on Thursday.
Saturday I got up at 3:15 am, had a little breakfast and some coffee, and drove the 120 miles North to Prescott. Prescott, AZ is at an elevation of about 5200 feet, and the marathon climbs to 7000. The elevation reached by the half isn't much less. The marathon goes over the top of the mountain, down the other side, then back over again. The half just goes up almost to the top.
The weather was beautiful. It was chilly in the early morning, but not so I had to wear more than a tee shirt and shorts, and I don't think it got up to 60 F all morning. The course gets out of town very quickly, and goes into the forested mountain roads, so there is more shade than for most of the local Phoenix races.
There was no chip timing, so I started pretty close to the front, but I managed to contain my enthusiasm, running it as if it was just a long traing run, and hit the first mile in 8:02. Those first couple of miles were just gently rolling, as much down as up.
I thought to myself that as soon as I started having to work hard, and I got a feeling of how the altitude and lack of real preparation was going to affect me, I could decide if I wanted to really race, or just take it as a training run.
We hit the first steep climb at about 2.5 miles, and I started to chug up it.
About five people passed me, and I started to think, "Training run..."
But after that, most of the climbing was more gradual. I passed more people than passed me. I was feeling as good as could be expected, and I didn't see anyone doing any better. I was racing it.
Right before mile 5 it got very steep again, and stayed that way. But I knew we were close to the turnaround, and it would be all gravy after that.
These were my first half splits:
1. 8:02
2. 7:36 15:38
3. 8:22 24:00
4. 8:10 32:10
5. 9:14 41:24
6. 9:38 51:02
halfway 56 something
On the way back, I was just cruising downhill, trying to let gravity do all of the work. I passed the 6 mile mark going in the other direction before I realized that the only mile markers on the way back were the same ones we had on the way out.
The mile from 5 miles left to 4 miles left I did in 7:02. The one from 6 to 5 was steeper, and I'm sure it was faster, but I didn't get that split. Here's how it went downhill:
5 miles left - 8.1 miles out: 16:07 1:07:09 (7:40 pace from 6 to 8.1)
4 - 9.1: 7:02 1:14:11
3 -10.1: 7:31 1:21:42
2 -11.1: 7:33 1:29:15
1 -12.1: 7:27 1:36:42
0 -13.1: 8:19 1:45:01
I was 5th in my age group, but 1st and second in that age group were 4th and 5th overall. I was 36th overall out of 353 runners. That was a very respectable time for that course, and I'm very pleased with my race.
The Half would be a challenging run, but I was sure that it wouldn't kill me. I decided to "train through it" more or less. I didn't do anything especially tough the past week, but I did my doctorvals on Tuesday and a six mile tempo run on Thursday.
Saturday I got up at 3:15 am, had a little breakfast and some coffee, and drove the 120 miles North to Prescott. Prescott, AZ is at an elevation of about 5200 feet, and the marathon climbs to 7000. The elevation reached by the half isn't much less. The marathon goes over the top of the mountain, down the other side, then back over again. The half just goes up almost to the top.
The weather was beautiful. It was chilly in the early morning, but not so I had to wear more than a tee shirt and shorts, and I don't think it got up to 60 F all morning. The course gets out of town very quickly, and goes into the forested mountain roads, so there is more shade than for most of the local Phoenix races.
There was no chip timing, so I started pretty close to the front, but I managed to contain my enthusiasm, running it as if it was just a long traing run, and hit the first mile in 8:02. Those first couple of miles were just gently rolling, as much down as up.
I thought to myself that as soon as I started having to work hard, and I got a feeling of how the altitude and lack of real preparation was going to affect me, I could decide if I wanted to really race, or just take it as a training run.
We hit the first steep climb at about 2.5 miles, and I started to chug up it.
About five people passed me, and I started to think, "Training run..."
But after that, most of the climbing was more gradual. I passed more people than passed me. I was feeling as good as could be expected, and I didn't see anyone doing any better. I was racing it.
Right before mile 5 it got very steep again, and stayed that way. But I knew we were close to the turnaround, and it would be all gravy after that.
These were my first half splits:
1. 8:02
2. 7:36 15:38
3. 8:22 24:00
4. 8:10 32:10
5. 9:14 41:24
6. 9:38 51:02
halfway 56 something
On the way back, I was just cruising downhill, trying to let gravity do all of the work. I passed the 6 mile mark going in the other direction before I realized that the only mile markers on the way back were the same ones we had on the way out.
The mile from 5 miles left to 4 miles left I did in 7:02. The one from 6 to 5 was steeper, and I'm sure it was faster, but I didn't get that split. Here's how it went downhill:
5 miles left - 8.1 miles out: 16:07 1:07:09 (7:40 pace from 6 to 8.1)
4 - 9.1: 7:02 1:14:11
3 -10.1: 7:31 1:21:42
2 -11.1: 7:33 1:29:15
1 -12.1: 7:27 1:36:42
0 -13.1: 8:19 1:45:01
I was 5th in my age group, but 1st and second in that age group were 4th and 5th overall. I was 36th overall out of 353 runners. That was a very respectable time for that course, and I'm very pleased with my race.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Foothills YMCA 5K/Run For Literacy 5K
This past weekend I ran the Ahwatukee Foothills YMCA 5K on Saturday and the Run For Literacy 5K at the Glendale Public Library on Sunday. Both of these races were timed by the Arizona Road Racers, a club that handles many of the races out here and usually does it well. the timing in both of these races was botched, so they gave awards on the days of the events based on order of finish instead of chip time.
Ahwatukee Foothills YMCA 5K
The YMCA race started at 8 AM. I had gotten there with time to jog over the course. It was a gradual uphill for the first half, at which point there was a 40 yard steep rise, then all downhill back to the finish. All of it is in suburban Phoenix blacktop streets.
In hindsight, I shouldn't have jogged the course. It's usually fine for me to do that, but it was a hot day already at 7:30 AM, and there were hills. I'll say it before anyone else points it out. It's hot, but not humid in Phoenix, so the conditions were nothing like Boston on Monday.
I started toward the back, mainly because I didn't feel like swimming through the crowd. I felt okay about being able to pass the slower runners once the race started, but it may have cost me some time in the first mile. I ran a disappointing 21:20. I ran a 5K on a tougher course in 21:34 at the end of March, and I thought I was in great shape for a PR this weekend.
splits
1. 6:37
2. 6:51 13:28
3. 7:18 20:45
3.1. 0:35 21:20
That third mile split is very strange, because as I said, the second mile had the big hill, and the third mile was all downhill. And I was pushing it. So I think the third mile was long.
Run For Literacy 5K
The next morning was cold, probably in the 50s. I know, to many of you, that doesn't sound cold, but remember it was in the 80s the morning before. We get used to being warm.
I didn't warm up very much before the start either, because I got there kind of late.
Once again I lined up toward the back of the pack. It was a smaller crowd in this race, and I was able to move at my pace once the race started.
The course was perfectly flat, paved streets around Glendale Community College and the library. I never saw the 1 mile marker, but someone told me it was probably placed at about the 1K point in the race, because his split there was 4:39. I reached the two mile mark in 13:20.
Shortly after that, I passed a 10 year-old girl, Nathalie Nguyen. I didn't see her again until after the finish, but I heard people cheering for her every time she came around a corner behind me.
She ran the 5K in 21:33. (gun time since the chip timing was screwed up)
My gun time was 21:22, but my watch time was 20:56. Still disappointing, but at least I can blame it on having run a race the day before.
I haven't run since Sunday. Lots of things going on is all. I feel like I have no time to breathe.
I'll take another shot at the 20 minute 5K this weekend, then forget it for a while.
Ahwatukee Foothills YMCA 5K
The YMCA race started at 8 AM. I had gotten there with time to jog over the course. It was a gradual uphill for the first half, at which point there was a 40 yard steep rise, then all downhill back to the finish. All of it is in suburban Phoenix blacktop streets.
In hindsight, I shouldn't have jogged the course. It's usually fine for me to do that, but it was a hot day already at 7:30 AM, and there were hills. I'll say it before anyone else points it out. It's hot, but not humid in Phoenix, so the conditions were nothing like Boston on Monday.
I started toward the back, mainly because I didn't feel like swimming through the crowd. I felt okay about being able to pass the slower runners once the race started, but it may have cost me some time in the first mile. I ran a disappointing 21:20. I ran a 5K on a tougher course in 21:34 at the end of March, and I thought I was in great shape for a PR this weekend.
splits
1. 6:37
2. 6:51 13:28
3. 7:18 20:45
3.1. 0:35 21:20
That third mile split is very strange, because as I said, the second mile had the big hill, and the third mile was all downhill. And I was pushing it. So I think the third mile was long.
Run For Literacy 5K
The next morning was cold, probably in the 50s. I know, to many of you, that doesn't sound cold, but remember it was in the 80s the morning before. We get used to being warm.
I didn't warm up very much before the start either, because I got there kind of late.
Once again I lined up toward the back of the pack. It was a smaller crowd in this race, and I was able to move at my pace once the race started.
The course was perfectly flat, paved streets around Glendale Community College and the library. I never saw the 1 mile marker, but someone told me it was probably placed at about the 1K point in the race, because his split there was 4:39. I reached the two mile mark in 13:20.
Shortly after that, I passed a 10 year-old girl, Nathalie Nguyen. I didn't see her again until after the finish, but I heard people cheering for her every time she came around a corner behind me.
She ran the 5K in 21:33. (gun time since the chip timing was screwed up)
My gun time was 21:22, but my watch time was 20:56. Still disappointing, but at least I can blame it on having run a race the day before.
I haven't run since Sunday. Lots of things going on is all. I feel like I have no time to breathe.
I'll take another shot at the 20 minute 5K this weekend, then forget it for a while.
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