Let me start with the differences between this year and last. Last year, I started training about a week ahead of time, with just a couple of small runs. This year, I’d run a half marathon the week before! Last year, I ran alone. This year, I ran the first 12 miles with Harry. Last year, I expected to do horribly. This year…. I still expected that, though hopefully better than last year. Last year, I ran my third-to-worst time for a half. This year, I was right in the middle of my results.
I’ve blogged before about the route, so I don’t need to cover that, other than confirming that I do like it. The one thing I can talk about in this blog is the difference in jogging with Harry through the first twelve miles. Harry had definitely out-trained me… as usual for the last few years. However, since we had been running together for the prior month, we were in a good position to run together for the first part of the race. It’s not unusual for us to run the first several miles together, or one of my best races had us running 11 miles together, then splitting for a final push. This time, we ran our longest distance together in any race; twelve miles.
We had a very solid start, and kept it up well. We were almost late to the start, so were some of the last ones to cross the start line, and thus we made good time, and passed a lot of people as we kept a steady pace. The advantage to running together is that, when one of you starts to flag in energy, the other can keep you going, and Harry definitely did this in the first half of the race. By the second half of the race, our roles were reversed. I don’t think Harry has really pushed himself at the end of the race with the mentality of “I only need to push for this much further…” So at the half way point, I’m talking about us being half way there. At mile 10, it’s about having only 3 miles to go, and visualizing the quick warm-up runs we do to see how little there is left to go. At mile twelve, Harry didn’t have anything left to continue winning the mental game, and I took off. Little did he know that, if he had stayed with me (and probably could have!), he’d have gotten a PR. But he stayed strong, and so did I, and we both came in with good times for us.
It was a great run and race, and my most social half marathon ever. I really look forward to doing one like this again!
Other than the small USAA 5k race, I’ve never podiumed on a race before. Did I deserve to get there? No, not really. My age group was one of the worst represented at the race, but do I care? Not at the moment. I enjoyed my moment on the stand, I love the plaque, and I’d be grateful to make it up on a podium again! Had I been female, my time would have gotten me 4th place. Had I been 40-49, eighth place, 50-59, seventh place. 30-39… second place!
The Course, or the Ever-Improving-Mark-Shaw
I have to take a moment to speak on this race versus my last TBF trail half marathon. The first time that TBF did a half on the Granite Beach trails, I think the race was short about a quarter to a half mile. I look at the resulting times between the two races, and the statistics point to the very same belief; the average time was about ten minutes faster, and the number of people in the 1:30s was astoundingly high. Now take this race: my GPS still shows it short, but it’s also not very accurate, the times seem appropriate, and the GPS versus the stated distance were well within the accuracy bounds. I think Mark has done a great job improving the course, both for accuracy, and for having a pretty even lobe on the south side of the beach (about half the race) and the north side. So Mark Shaw, well done sir.
My Mental See-Saw
So now to how the race went for me. I’m still under-trained, and so I struggled more with this race than I should have. But I also learned a few things about myself and my racing that I think I should put down in my blog. First of all, thinking you’re right behind someone can be a great motivation to speed up! At about mile eight, I was told that I was within spitting distance of Bill. I know he’s in much better shape than I am, and he blew away my time last year at Shamrock’n, so the idea of catching up with him was very appealing. I felt I had enough left in me, so I picked up my pace by about a minute per mile, and flew by several of my competitors. It felt great! Unfortunately, the speed-up did not leave enough in me for the hill that was at mile ten, so I lost my momentum there, and didn’t really gain it back. Oh well, “A” for effort!
Most of my time in the back half of the race was a struggle between two conflicting mindsets. One told me that I just needed to relax, let gravity do most of the work, and make my way to the end. The other was the drive to push myself faster to keep under two hours. I’ve never done a half in more than two hours, so when I reached mile eight, with five to go, and realized that I was an hour and a quarter into the race, I knew I had to get down below nine minute miles consistently (including hills) in order to do the last five in 45 minutes. So off I went, and I learned something. Gluts are great for climbing hills!
In the past, I’ve always used my hips and quads to lift my legs when ascending. However, as they were pretty beat down by that point, I discovered that instead of pulling my legs up with my quads, I could push my legs up with my gluts. This whole new muscle set really allowed me to go for the last half of the race, and brought me a new found set of muscles that I could interchange with others for extra speed. w00t!
Unfortunately, I didn’t make it in under two, so I was quite a bit disappointed in what I did. But when I saw some runners that I highly respect, and know are better than me, come in behind me, and then when I got to stand on the podium, I was no longer quite as disappointed in my time. I still finished in the top third of the race (25.8%), and with the “trail penalty,” would still have what I would consider a respectable time, I just wish I hadn’t broken the two hour mark. Oh well, next time!
Or shall I say… trail jog? I went back and looked at my time from running the Granite Bay Half Marathon in 2009, which was essentially this same course. My pace then? Just shy of 9s. My pace today? Just shy of 10s! So I’ve slowed down a minute… not a great accomplishment for two years. I’m disappointed in retrospect, but I’m just getting back into running after essentially two years off, so I guess I shouldn’t compare myself to what I could do after a couple years of pretty constant running.
Pre-Race
Since I’m not treating this as a “race” per se, but just as a training run prior to Shamrock’n, I haven’t been careful about tapering. Today, that backfired. About thirty minutes in a horse stance last night, and my quads and gluts were not in shape for the amount of climbing in this race. After the massive hill around mile two, on every hill thereafter (and there are lots!), I’d slow down more than normal, and take longer to recover than I’d wish. Oh well, karate was fun!
The trails at Granite Beach on Folsom Lake are beautiful, and the weather looked like it would rain, but instead was cooperatively perfect: chilly enough to keep from actively sweating, without shivering or feeling cold. In fact, I started the race with gloves, but took them off three miles in and never put them back on.
The Run
The course is essentially constant hills on single track the whole way. Trees over more than 90% of the course, winding, rocky… great non-technical MTB track, which also makes it a great trail running location. Fast and steep climbs, long slogs, flat areas, sand, and more. This time, I had to walk part of the big hill at mile 2, but I didn’t walk any other time. At mile three, Harry once again separated from me, this time to take over a minute between us by the end!
Around mile five or six, I stopped feeling like my legs and body were near their limit, and finally kicked into a nice run. It’s surprising that I don’t see that same result in my GPS, it looks like I slowed way down around there, but the feeling was a lot more steady. I had one person ahead of me, and one behind, and we kept pace together pretty well. Having energy back near the end, I kicked it up to a more “me” pace for the last mile, and finished the race strong.
I’m sore. My gluts hurt, as do my legs, and I definitely worked hard to make this run happen. However, that’s the point, right? I actually ran three times the week before this race, and hopefully will be keeping up a more rigorous training schedule. Karate twice a week, running two to three times a week… back to health and fitness, and fun.
And thanks again, Harry, for the encouragement to get out and race! I’ve been enjoying this, and look forward to a lot more through the year!
It’s been almost a year since my last race. Thinking ahead, Harry convinced me (without a lot of arm-twisting), to do the new TBF winter trail run series. It’s bi-weekly, starting with a 10k run, then a 10 miler, and lastly a half marathon.
The challenge on this race wasn’t my only four miles of running in the previous month. Nor was it the fact that this was a trail run. I mean, I did four miles prior to Shamrock’n last year, and did fine. The big challenge was that I had to catch a flight to Anaheim at 1pm for work, so I had to finish quickly, and get home and shower! Of course, I was packed already in case I had to drive straight for the airport, but that’s just being smart.
The Race
All in all, I wouldn’t call this a race for me. The main reason that I’m doing it is that the distances and dates are set perfectly to have myself at least a little more ready for Shamrock’n than last year. So my low 9s, which would have been marginal to poor on a real race day (8-8:10s + 0:30 for trail handicap), was just fine for a good training run. And my results aren’t so bad.
One of the best parts of the race was getting to mile 4.5 or so, and telling Harry to go ahead! He replied with a soft “no,” which I convinced him to change by saying that he needed enough of a lead on me so that I couldn’t beat him in a sprint-off at the end. I stayed within sight of him for the last miles, and only finished about 40 seconds behind him, but regardless, congratulations Harry for beating me at a race!
I was amazed, looking back at my collection of Shamrock’n shirts. Four that I deserve (and one that I got out of the FF cheap training shirt bin). Is this really my fifth year running the race? Well, 2008 was my last marathon, 2009 IM AZ, 2010 was my rest year, and now it’s 2011. So this makes Shamrock’n #5. I was entirely untrained (just 80 or so miles run the whole year!), and completely expecting a >2 hour finish, but it was nice to kick off the year with the race that started me running.
The Race
I don’t really need to put a lot of detail in here. I wasn’t trained, so my run was just blech, I did fine for the first eight miles, and hit my first wall in a half at mile eight, but it wasn’t my worst time, and I felt good for the first half, so I still came in with 8:30s or so… better than I deserved.
One of the things to note on the race this year, is the new route. I heard a lot of complaints at how boring the route was, but those folks haven’t done anything like Ave of the Vines. The new route, going through downtown and out to the trail and Discover Park, had a lot of variety to keep the scenery changing. I preferred this route to the others, and thought it a great improvement from the “there and back” in West Sac.
A note… it’s now December, and I’m just realizing that this blog never got published. I’ve just signed up for Shamrock’n 2012, and look forward to doing this same course again!
This year, the family (with encouragement from my lovely wife), decided to return to a place of previous enjoyment for Diane, and participate in a Christmas morning run up in Meadow Vista, CA — the Cool Yule Jingle Jog. Everyone participated, even Tripp (passively).
The run, put together by running legend Gordon Ainsleigh, starts in a large park, makes its first leg up the roads (and uphill with about 200 feet of climb), then follows a canal for the second leg, and traverses back to the park for the third leg. It’s a beautiful route, and a great way to spend a Christmas morn.
JT, Jordan, and I started the run together, and by the first long hill, it was obvious that, though Jordan had spent the most time running recently, she wasn’t ready for altitude nor hills. Six minutes in, and already Jordan had to walk (at her last 5k, she made it all the way without walking once!) JT kept going, even though he was in old vans and jeans, and I sped up to let him know he could keep going, as long as he kept other runners in sight, while I accompanied Jordan through the rest of the run.
I count seventeen times that we slowed to a walk, so when we arrived at the finish line at 43 minutes, JT had beaten us with a 35 minute time! JT came in 11th overall in the run, and I think really enjoyed what he accomplished. Jordan and I finished with 13:20s as an average pace through the 3.35 miles. I took advantage of the long hill at the end to do some faster running, and otherwise enjoyed spending time, encouraging Jordan, and enjoying the cool mountain air.
I left the older two kids at the park with all of the adult participants, and ran back to meet Diane. A mile back, and I found her, just about to hit the big final hill. I was there to offer support in carrying Tripp, but as I expected, Diane wanted the pride of being able to carry Tripp the entire way. Damon seemed to be in a great mood, and Diane was doing great, so I walked with them in, only turning around to run the hill one more time.
In the end, I think we all had a great time, and it definitely was a rewarding and wonderful way to spend a Christmas morning!
What does two months of not training (or eleven, if I’m honest with myself), a good day, and a half marathon look like for me? Apparently a socially fun day with non-stellar, but acceptable results.
The Race
Fleet Feet has made minor changes to the course, year on year, and the improvements have always been for the better. This year’s course is near-identical to last years, with one notable exception: the run through old town was on the streets, not on the cobblestones. This little improvement removed the one primary annoyance, and made this course one of my favorites.
The first few miles were spent with Harry and Joy, slow to start being near the back of the wave one pack, moderate to continue, and overall quite social. At mile two, Harry and I left Joy behind, and at mile four, I left Harry to his recovery pace, and sped up a bit. Running into Alan Capps and KC from STC was a great bonus, and I spent the next six miles chatting with one or both of them, and enjoying the pace.
Prior to mile seven, I left Alan behind, only to hit a pit stop at the relay exchange point, and find myself right behind Alan and KC again. Alan and I talked for the next three miles, when it seemed he was ready to slow it down for the final stretch, and I was ready to push a little into the end. Whereas two years ago, that push, at almost the exact same spot with Harry, took me from low eights to sevens, this year, I went from high eights to low eights.
I don’t think I would have had nearly as good of a race, or nearly as much fun, had it not been for finding friends to run with. Thank you to my friends, for running with me, end enduring my endless talk. Thank you STC for building up groups to socialize with, my annual membership is well worth this benefit. And thank you to Fleet Feet for putting on my favorite area race of the year, the biggest in the area, and continually improving it.
My Friends
Joy, congratulations on such a great time! Just a few minutes behind me, and proof that training well really does help you improve. Carrie, congrats to you as well on a PR! Bill, you surprised me with your time, I had no idea that you still maintained such good times (7:37s!) and fitness, it’s great to see you out on a course where you don’t have to work, but can enjoy the time on the road.
And Diane, even though you didn’t get to see me race, it’s wonderful to have my family out there. Thank you very much for bringing all of the kids out to enjoy the time at the stadium, and to join me for post-race breakfast.
Josh would say that I’m revving up my excuse engine, but this one is fair. Since IMAZ, I haven’t spent my time training. Family time is busy, work hasn’t allowed my lunch time runs, and who wants to wake up at 5am during the cold, rainy winter? It’s been mostly by choice, and a lack of motivation, but I don’t want to miss Shamrock’n, so I’m running it!
Looking back at my time since late November, I’ve run less than twenty-two miles. That used to be my weekly number, not my three month total. So going into this race, I am expecting to perform my worst, but I really don’t care. I like the run, I’ve enjoyed my break, and perhaps this will serve as my springboard back into regular training.
In short, for those of you who don’t want to read my novella, I’m disappointed that I DNF’d, my mind is going through a hundred what-ifs, but I’m thankful for the opportunity for doing this, I enjoyed the race itself, and I wish I had trained more and felt better.
Pre-Race
A race so large, long, and complex forces a very different level of organization. Having worked for, and been part of, racing coordination with TBF for a couple of years, I can understand the level of requirements that this takes. Unlike any race I’ve done, the preparation for this race took days. Friday, checkin, badge pickup, and a mandatory race meeting took place. The information was valuable, but not really required. The following day was the real paradigm change: dropping off my bike and gear a day before the race. So much of what I usually do is determined race-morning, that it felt very odd to be handing over so much of my race paraphernalia so early. That said, it made race morning a pretty relaxed, and simple experience.
The next days were filled with family, friends, and enjoying the local Arizona area. Having been there several times for school, Tempe wasn’t a big shock, and so most of the time was just spent in race-day anticipation, eating, and socializing. Two days of pre-attendance just led to way too much free time to kill, and seemed very excessive. It also meant there was plenty of time for problems, like Carrie getting hit by a car in downtown Tempe and being unable to race. Ouch!
Race Start
So race day arrives. Twenty minutes traveling down the freeway in the wee hours of morning got me into transition with more than plenty of time to prepare. Staying warm, chatting with Josh, checking my bike, pre-fueling, getting nervous about the swim, trying to prepare for the freezing cold water. I felt confident in what I had to do: I wasn’t here to race, I was here to finish, and so I wasn’t really doing much but getting ready for a very long day.
The swim start was massive. 2500 people at the start line, treading in the gross and cold water, waiting for fifteen minutes until the gun fired. I’ve done two mile swims, and while I knew I was undertrained for swimming, I wasn’t worried about this part of the race. As Dory would say, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming.”
What struck me as unique and different to this swim was the mass of bodies. Every triathlete has been kicked, hit, elbowed, and more; usually, this subsides a few minutes in to the race. With this large of a group all starting together, this practically never ended. I decided to stick close to the lake edge, instead of in the main channel, and to try and avoid much of the cluster. As I started to get bored with the long swim, I spent my time watching the spectators, and counting the cement balls along the side of the lake, passing my time. The water was gross, really gross, and I wish athletes didn’t have to spend so much time in it. I can’t even imagine trying to do such a long swim in salt water, it was bad enough in “fresh” water.
All in all, my swim time was about ten minutes slower than I had expected, but it was fine. I relaxed through the swim, didn’t work hard, didn’t push myself, and was able to swim on course very well. Getting out of the water, I felt fine, no wobbliness, no weakness, and was happy to get into the next stage of the race. If only the wetsuit assistants hadn’t “helped” and gotten my zipper stuck in my leg, I would have been up and out of transition in no time.
The Century
At this point, I need to go back and mention the organization of the race. Coming out of the water, athletes have help pulling off their wetsuits. We run to an area where our pre-packed T1 bags are stationed, off into changing tents where athletes have help with whatever they wish, run out of transition to a line of volunteers applying sunblock, then race out to the bike racks where a volunteer is already holding your bike out, waiting for you to get on. It’s amazing the amount of extra support offered in a race that takes an entire day. I can’t fathom the level of coordination and the numbers of volunteers required to pull this off, but I can understand to some degree why this is by far the most expensive race I’ve ever competed.
The bike was my most worried segment. Thanks to Foxy, I knew that I could complete by going slowly, and so I was less worried about my capability, and more just about the sheer time and energy it would take to finish. Arizona’s course is pretty easy: three there-and-back loops, with a slight uphill all the way out, and a slight downhill all the way back. I found myself going much slower than I expected for the first sixth, but realized on my way back that I had been in slight a headwind, and zoomed back at 20+mph with that wind pushing me along. At this point, I felt fine, though doing the uphill two more times felt a bit daunting.
That’s when everything started going downhill for me. Fortunately, the headwind had turned to a tailwind, and I was feeling better about my speed on the next uphill, but my stomach was not settled one bit. I made my first pitstop at the bottom of the hill, and continued to hydrate and eat as I knew fueling to be critical during the entire bike portion. By the second pitstop, my stomach was still not doing well. I felt like I needed to throw up, and had to stop again to use the facilities. From that point on, I hit every single outhouse on the route, wasn’t keeping down food, and wasn’t keeping down liquids. My pace slowed down, my race went from fine to miserable, but I kept going. I knew that part of finishing an Ironman was just the will to go.
So I finished the bike, enjoying watching for my family along the side, enjoying timing my differential with Josh (which shocked me, he was much faster than me on the first lap, and then seemed to be gaining nothing on my on the next two). I waved to KC, I chatted with a few people in passing, I got frustrated at the number of groupings of bikes (how do they feel okay with cheating like that!), and just kept going, knowing that the run (my best sport), was coming up.
I came in slowly off the bike, nearing the edge of what was allowed, but knowing that I had seven hours to finish a run that would take me much less than that. I still felt awful, but I thought I could finish this, if only I could get in food.
The Yog (soft “J”)
I felt strong for the first couple miles on the run. My bike was slow enough that there was no handicap to my readiness to sludge through these next hours on the pavement, my legs were fine, worked out for sure, but fine. My pace was sub-10s, slow for me, but considering I’d just biked 112 miles, fine. I knew that every moment I jogged, I was catching up with Josh, and I was jogging much more than I was walking.
And then came the resurgence of the fueling issues. The chicken broth was a life-saver, I don’t think I could have made it as far as I did without it, but I think I relied on it too heavily. I hadn’t kept down food, liquid wasn’t keeping down either, and by the end of the first 8-mile lap, I wasn’t feeling good. Looking forward to seeing my family made those first eight miles great, but coming around on the next loops, my body wasn’t allowing me to continue. I started getting light-headed, I had to sit down to keep from passing out, I still was hitting every porto-John, and was still struggling to feel like my body could make it through the next hours.
By mile twelve, being right at transition again, I gave up. The mental battle was weakened by proximity to my exit, my body was telling me I wasn’t safe to go on, and my reserves of strength finally gave out. I couldn’t bring myself to run by transition and make it past transition, into the next half of the second lap. I was finished.
The Frustration
My family was amazingly supportive, and proud of what I had accomplished, but I wasn’t. A plethora of what-ifs still haunt me. If I had trained more, could I have done it? If I hadn’t used gatorade and uncrustables (both newish to me), would I have retained better food? If I hadn’t gotten very sick the Thursday prior, would I have been able to fuel? If I had kept going, would I have gotten past the mental block of being by transition? If the course wasn’t laps, would I have had the desire to run the thirteen miles back versus catching a sag vehicle?
I don’t know that I’ll be back on an Ironman course any time soon to prove to myself that I can do this or not, but I do know that I can’t do this without training much better next time. Maybe after Tripp is 3, not a newborn, I’ll plan on going out again and racing an IM. Until then, I’ll stick to the shorter distances that I find more fun, and the runs which I enjoy more, and leave the big races to the real Ironmen.
Put on by TBF Racing, the Granite Bay Trail Half Marathon is the longest trail run I have ever done. In fact, before that, five or six miles topped my trail running background. So when I hit mile six, I was surprised to feel like I’d already ran ten miles, and by mile eight, I felt like it should be over already. Yet thanks to having Sati with me, keeping me honest, and just my general desire to prep for AZ, I kept going, and enjoyed a pretty decent pace for me on trails.
So how was the race? Mostly, I was treating it as a run, not a race, but even still, I did near to my best performance, and still came near the back of the pack for my age group, and half way back for the race. I’ve learned that trail running is a great way to work on my hips, gluts, and other secondary muscles. All of the ups and downs, twists and turns, and the sloping ground takes a lot out of the joints and muscles. And I love TBF’s runs, obviously enough to work with them for two years on staff. The group feels close-knit, the socialization is great, the trails and locations out at the lake are great, and the post-run beer choices were superb. Oh, did I mention that beer was included in the post-race food?! Black Butte Porter, ftw.
The Distance, and why I have two paces listed
Marking an accurate distance on real trails is tough. If one, say, used a GPS and trusted it, I’m certain the course would be long. Why? 15 foot accuracy, and 1-3 second polling, the GPS will cut off too many of the corners. So your 13.1 per your GPS would be closer to 13.5, maybe. My Garmin told me I ran about 12.4 miles. Someone else had 12.5, and someone with a 310 had 12.7. In fact, 12.7 was the longest I heard off of a Garmin. So if all of them cut it short, then 12.7 could easily be 13.1. The only reason that I think it was short: I was pretty dead on on the mileage except for one mile that cut me .4 miles off, then the rest stayed dead on.
So I think somewhere between 12.7 and 13.1 is the real mileage, because though off, rarely do the Garmins miss by 5%. I think TBF did great, and I think they were dead on for most of the miles,
but I do think somewhere around mile 4, they missed a bit. Regardless, it was close, and better than some other races I’ve done.
Being Sore
Two days after I finished this race, I was still sore. Running Clarksburg, the camber is so consistent, it hurts. Running a road race, my quads and hams are being punished, and yet they’re trained and for this. But running trails like this run, it’s a whole new use of muscles. The camber is omnipresent, but changing, such that it doesn’t cause pain, but just works my hips and inner thighs a lot. The hills are everywhere, but my road training has my quads and gluts ready for that. So I fortunately came out without any pain from doing any one thing a lot, but with all of my secondary muscles sore from never being worked this hard. Maybe adding trails to my regular training would build my hips and keep my knees from pain, while helping me build my running base.
