I really didn't want to run the Strip at Night. I really didn't. I thought the whole idea was stupid. I'm not even talking about logistically stupid. I mean it's one thing trying to get to the starting line on the Strip at 5am when tourist movement is at a minimum. But trying to get to the starting line in the middle of the afternoon? Stupid. Trying to find a place to park? Nearly impossible. But I've already written about most of the horrific logistical issues that occurred before and after this race. You can read about them here.
This post will deal almost exclusively with the race. But first, allow me to digress and just say that the Expo was pretty cool. I realize that by Saturday afternoon it had turned into a disorganized cluster fuck, but when I was there early on Friday afternoon it was still manageable and I got to see Meb, Khalid, and Rod Dixon speak. Totally awesome. And if I had stuck around a few more hours, I could have met Kara Goucher. Yeah, you heard me right, boys.
Oh, and Cheap Trick totally rocked. Totally. I was expecting them to be good but they were really great. And anyone who knows me knows that I don't give out high praise to bands unless it is truly deserved. You hear me, Bret Michaels?
OK, OK. The race. But first, my training. As many of you already know, I had the best training cycle since 2007, if not ever. I went into this race with a lot of confidence and very high hopes. For those of you who asked me pre-race, I was predicting a PR by "minutes, not seconds." Yeah, I felt THAT strong.
The Race:
We left for the race over 3 hours early, knowing it was going to be a mess at the starting line. I wanted to get there, head inside Mandalay Bay, and find a place to stay off of my feet while hopefully watching football, until race time. We succeeded in finding a place to sit, but no football. And after 30 minutes of breathing in second hand smoke (Vegas, baby) I decided that I would fare better being outside on my feet. So we hit the Cheap Trick concert and when they came out for their encore, I decided to head to the corrals, knowing that it would be chaos if I waited much longer. So I arrived in the corral a good 45 minutes before race time and basically stood around, trying to stretch and stay loose. Huge, cold winds started smashing us from behind and I started seriously reconsidering my clothing choices, singlet, shorts, gloves, hat, throw away sweat shirt.
Last non-race specific mention. Mike McCready played the national anthem on guitar, ala Jimi Hendrix. Maybe 50 feet in front of me. Totally awesome.
I had been assigned to corral number 1 and when I entered the corral I couldn't help but realize two things. One, the volunteers didn't check my bib number upon entry. Two, there were people in this corral who CLEARLY did not belong in corral #1, in a 40+ corral race. Foreshadowing.
The gun finally sounds (and the official race report finally begins). My goal is to go out at 7:05 pace, which based on my training, I feel is very conservative. Run the first 4 miles around 7:05 and then pick up the pace to somewhere between 6:50-6:55 and maintain it until the end of the race. Despite being in the first corral, I found myself having to slow down and bob and weave around slower runners during the first mile. Completely unacceptable and discouraging.
So we're running down the Las Vegas Strip, at night, pretty great crowd in the first mile or two. Very vocal, very cool. But the road itself is reasonably dark. I find that I can't really look at the Strip. I have to focus on dodging slower runners, pot holes, etc. I'm mostly looking at the ground. Not very scenic and I realize very quickly that running in the morning (as in past races) was much better. First mile split 7:26.
I get some running room in mile 2 and start to get used to the dark. 6:53 split. During this mile, I realize that it's too dark to just look at my Garmin for pacing information. I set it for night time running, but that means I have to tap it every time I want to get a reading and risk hitting a wrong button and stopping it. I decide to just run and look at it as street lights allow. It's not pitch black by any means but it's dark enough that you can't just look at your Garmin and see your pace unless you have additional lighting.
I run mile 3 at 7:11 pace and hit the 5k mat in 22:xx. I'm feeling strong and totally OK with the first 3 miles. I keep running and at this point we start to hit the less desirable part of town. I'm feeling good, not really checking my pace very often, just running. Miles 4-6: 7:17, 7:18, 7:12.
It's not until I pass the 10k timing mat that I realize that my pace has slipped slightly but at the time I had no idea that I was running 7:1x pace. It felt faster and in the dark I just couldn't monitor it closely.
At this point, the wheels kind of fall off but I won't realize it for a few more miles. Absolutely no idea what happened but the next 3 miles were 7:33, 7:33, 7:39. Again, I'm running in the dark, feeling pretty strong, honestly oblivious to the fact that my pace has dropped dramatically.
During mile 10 I hear a voice behind me and realize that no one, and I mean no one, has been talking during this race. At all. Not a single word. Really strange. My guess is that everyone had to focus extra hard on running, avoiding pot holes, etc. in the dark and weren't able to engage in the usual early mile race chit chat.
Anyway, the voice is that of a 1:35 pacer. They pass me and I remember thinking that they must be way ahead of pace. It was only then that I started to wonder about my own pace. I decided I better hang with them just to be safe. After about 100 yards I realized that I couldn't keep up with them. Suddenly, I realized that my race was over. It was very strange. I still felt like I was running strong and I didn't feel at all fatigued. I just couldn't run fast. No explanation.
Once I realized it was over, it was really over. I finished the race, occasionally trying to increase my speed, but failing. 7:50, 8:12, 8:13, 8:16, :49.
Finishing time of 1:39:21 and not a damn thing I could have done about it. Two days later and I still have no idea what happened. I went into this race thinking 1:33 if I had a really bad day. 1:31 very likely. 1:29 pie in the sky.
My brother mentioned altitude and pointed out that Vegas is 2200 while Columbus is 800 or 900. But even if that was a factor, it couldn't have been THAT much of a factor. In any case, I'm not going to dwell on it too much. I'll keep working hard, schedule a good local race in the near future and go out and get the time I know I'm capable of.
Thanks for reading and thanks for your help and support. It really means a lot to me.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Las Vegas Rock n Roll Marathon 2011 - EPIC FAIL!
The above photo is of runners trapped inside Mandalay Bay post-race. Photo borrowed from Facebook user.This was my 3rd annual pilgrimage to Las Vegas to visit family and participate in the Las Vegas Rock n Roll Marathon. The first year, I ran the full marathon and thought that the race organizers went out of their way to make it a special event. Show girls, white tigers, fireworks, sky divers, Celine Dion impersonator, Blues Brothers, etc. Very Vegas. Decent bang for your buck. The race itself was well organized with no major problems to speak of other than a pretty boring second half atmosphere. But really, once you exit the Strip, it's a desert so not many options other than an out and back through a major artery.
Year two, I was scheduled to run the full marathon but was sick and ended up only running the half. Again, pretty good overall experience. They cut back on the pre-race festivities but that didn't bother me. I was there to race, not to be entertained.
This year, they announced that they were changing the start time, making the race a night time event. They hyped the hell out of running the Strip at night. Honestly, I wasn't all that excited about this and really thought it was a bad idea. Next, I learned that they were planning to start the marathon 90 minutes before the start of the half marathon. They were also going to have the marathoners run the boring part of the course first and then merge with the half marathoners to run the final half of the race on the Strip.
This was a huge red flag for me. It was obvious that anyone running the marathon at less than 3 hour pace was going to run smack-dab into a sea of slower moving half marathoners as soon as they merged onto the Strip. I emailed the race officials, stated my concerns and asked if they were planning to have a separate lane for the marathoners once they merged. I was told that they planned to give the marathoners a separate lane for the first mile of the merge and that was all. Upon hearing this, I decided that running the full marathon would be a huge mistake and decided to only run the half. As it turns out, WOW, did I make the right call.
The race turned out to be an utter and complete disaster for the majority involved. At this point, it would probably be easiest if I just break down all of the things that went wrong.
1. Despite seeding runners in corrals based on their expected finishing times, the race officials failed to enforce the corral seeding which led to people lining up in any corral they chose. This included many people who were walking the entire race lining up in some of the upper corrals. This caused major congestion on the course as runners had to try to weave around groups of walkers, some walking 4 or 5 wide, sometimes holding hands. This led to verbal and physical confrontations.
2. Reports of aid stations completely running out of water and sports drink well before all participants had passed the stations.
3. Reports of runners being given dirty (and/or contaminated) water, resulting in many runners getting sick and throwing up during and after the race.
4. Reports of congestion at the finish line so heavy that runners were forced to come to a complete stop while still on the course and wait in line to cross the finish line.
5. The race ran out of finisher medals. Seriously, how does that happen?
After the race is where it really got interesting. No one had bothered to plan an exit strategy for 44,000 runners. This resulted in absolute gridlock and chaos in Mandalay Bay as runners were trapped in a hallway, unable to move for somewhere between 45 and 90 minutes, based on different accounts. This resulted in multiple people passing out, getting sick, needing medical attention, etc. and no way to get them (or anyone else) to safety.
Additionally, apparently no one had the foresight to realize that 44,000 hungry runners plus countless thousands of spectators would descend upon the area between 10pm and midnight, looking for something to eat. Reports state that most nearby restaurants were closed and the ones that were open had at least a 2 hour wait.
Taxi service was also reported as being a 2 hour wait, shuttles that had been promised for runners were either nonexistent or hopelessly behind schedule. Lines for the trams were reportedly just as bad. Utter chaos and a complete lack of planning or consideration for the runners and spectators involved in this race.
To add insult to injury, the race organizers seemed to be completely oblivious to all of these problems. A race spokesman posted the following on his Facebook page immediately following the race:
If by EPIC, he meant EPIC FAIL, then I completely agree.
The Las Vegas Marathon Facebook page has been buzzing with nonstop activity for the past two days, with post after post after post about the horrible, frightening, dangerous conditions that runners were exposed to during and after this race.
This was by far the worst run event I have ever participated in and I can't imagine giving any more money to Competitor and the Rock n Roll brand after this fiasco. I'll end by giving the boycott link. Run these events if you wish but buyer beware. You've been warned.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
5k
I wasn't going to write a race report for this but Lisa asked for a race report so here we go.
I needed a 5k tune up race to help me prepare for my goal race coming up in December. I narrowed my choices down to a small race right up the street from my house and a larger race on the OSU campus. I was leaning toward the Sunday race at OSU, which I thought would be flatter and faster and give me a better chance at running a PR and maybe even achieving my pie in the sky goal time of under 20 minutes. But when I woke up well rested on Saturday morning, I decided to go up the street and "get the race over with."
I wasn't really worried about the race. It was a tune up and I was just going to go out and run hard and go home. After registering, I went for a short warm up run and then waited for the race to begin. As we lined up for the start of the race, I looked around for the fast guys and was surprised to find that I really didn't see anyone who looked really fast. No young cross country studs, no CRC singlets. Scanning the small crowd, I counted four guys who I thought might be able to beat me.
The gun sounds and we're off. The course begins with a lap around the local high school track then down to the local bike path. Out and back. I take off and I'm immediately in the lead. I'm also immediately waiting for the fast guys to come up and pass me. I make it almost all the way around the track before I hear a guy approaching. He pulls up beside me and asks if I know where the course goes. I tell him and then he scoots ahead of me. In retrospect, I should have just told him to follow me.
So I head down the hill, running hard, trying to stay close to the guy who is ahead of me. We hit the bike path and head north. Before I know it we pass the first mile marker. I glance at my watch and it says 6:13. It didn't feel particularly fast so I decided to just keep pushing. Before I knew it the guy who was in front of me was coming toward me. He held out his arm and we high fived as we passed each other. I went around a bend and there was the turn around point. Half way there.
I turn and start heading back, realizing that there is no way I'll catch the guy who is ahead of me. Then I see the two guys who are closest to me and they are about exactly as far behind me as I am behind the leader. I'm not quite as confident about my ability to hold these guys off. Twenty or thirty feet later, I see the next two closest guys. They are far enough back that I realize that the worst I'm going to finish in this race is fourth place.
So I'm in this really strange place. Never before in my racing career have I been one of the leaders. I did finish third in a race but it was a one mile loop course with 4 different race distances all running together so I didn't know that I was third place until I finished the race. This was different. I was fully aware that I was in second place and it was a really, really strange feeling. I was out there all by myself with no one to push me except me. So I ran and kept pushing hard, occasionally sneaking a peek behind me when I would go around a bend, to see if anyone was gaining on me.
I know the course like the back of my hand so I'm surprised to find during the third mile that I don't know where I am on the course. I'm so focused on pushing hard that I'm not keeping track of my surroundings. Suddenly, I see a bridge up ahead and know exactly where I am. I cross the bridge, go around a bend then veer off to the left and start heading toward the hill that leads back to the track, and the finish line. I sneak one last peek as I turn toward the hill. I'm totally shocked that there is absolutely no one behind me. I glance at my Garmin. Only .6 miles to go. I push up the hill and onto the gravel path that leads to the track. All I'm thinking about is how uncomfortable the gravel feels and how much it must be slowing me down. I finally get off of the gravel and turn onto the track. One lap to the finish.
I glance at my watch and it says 18:xx. I was so focused on running hard that I hadn't even been looking at my pace or my time since the first mile split. Suddenly, I remembered that I was hoping to run sub 20:00. As I started my final push I tried to do the math. I was pretty sure that I had sub 20:00 in the bag but I wasn't positive. I started sprinting around the track. As I make my final turn I can see the clock and I know I'm going to make it. I cross the finish line and a guy shakes my hand and hands me a 2nd place overall plaque. I finished in 19:42, an average pace of 6:21.
Now for the really weird part. People start congratulating me and patting me on the back and wanting to shake my hand. I mean, I realize I just finished in 2nd place but I also realize that it's only because none of the really fast guys decided to race today. So OK, sure, I'll take the second place but the important number is the 19:42, which is a :44 PR and validation that all of the hard training I've been doing is paying dividends. That's the number I'm proud of and that's the number that has real meaning. I'll have to wait until December to find out what that number really means.
I needed a 5k tune up race to help me prepare for my goal race coming up in December. I narrowed my choices down to a small race right up the street from my house and a larger race on the OSU campus. I was leaning toward the Sunday race at OSU, which I thought would be flatter and faster and give me a better chance at running a PR and maybe even achieving my pie in the sky goal time of under 20 minutes. But when I woke up well rested on Saturday morning, I decided to go up the street and "get the race over with."
I wasn't really worried about the race. It was a tune up and I was just going to go out and run hard and go home. After registering, I went for a short warm up run and then waited for the race to begin. As we lined up for the start of the race, I looked around for the fast guys and was surprised to find that I really didn't see anyone who looked really fast. No young cross country studs, no CRC singlets. Scanning the small crowd, I counted four guys who I thought might be able to beat me.
The gun sounds and we're off. The course begins with a lap around the local high school track then down to the local bike path. Out and back. I take off and I'm immediately in the lead. I'm also immediately waiting for the fast guys to come up and pass me. I make it almost all the way around the track before I hear a guy approaching. He pulls up beside me and asks if I know where the course goes. I tell him and then he scoots ahead of me. In retrospect, I should have just told him to follow me.
So I head down the hill, running hard, trying to stay close to the guy who is ahead of me. We hit the bike path and head north. Before I know it we pass the first mile marker. I glance at my watch and it says 6:13. It didn't feel particularly fast so I decided to just keep pushing. Before I knew it the guy who was in front of me was coming toward me. He held out his arm and we high fived as we passed each other. I went around a bend and there was the turn around point. Half way there.
I turn and start heading back, realizing that there is no way I'll catch the guy who is ahead of me. Then I see the two guys who are closest to me and they are about exactly as far behind me as I am behind the leader. I'm not quite as confident about my ability to hold these guys off. Twenty or thirty feet later, I see the next two closest guys. They are far enough back that I realize that the worst I'm going to finish in this race is fourth place.
So I'm in this really strange place. Never before in my racing career have I been one of the leaders. I did finish third in a race but it was a one mile loop course with 4 different race distances all running together so I didn't know that I was third place until I finished the race. This was different. I was fully aware that I was in second place and it was a really, really strange feeling. I was out there all by myself with no one to push me except me. So I ran and kept pushing hard, occasionally sneaking a peek behind me when I would go around a bend, to see if anyone was gaining on me.
I know the course like the back of my hand so I'm surprised to find during the third mile that I don't know where I am on the course. I'm so focused on pushing hard that I'm not keeping track of my surroundings. Suddenly, I see a bridge up ahead and know exactly where I am. I cross the bridge, go around a bend then veer off to the left and start heading toward the hill that leads back to the track, and the finish line. I sneak one last peek as I turn toward the hill. I'm totally shocked that there is absolutely no one behind me. I glance at my Garmin. Only .6 miles to go. I push up the hill and onto the gravel path that leads to the track. All I'm thinking about is how uncomfortable the gravel feels and how much it must be slowing me down. I finally get off of the gravel and turn onto the track. One lap to the finish.
I glance at my watch and it says 18:xx. I was so focused on running hard that I hadn't even been looking at my pace or my time since the first mile split. Suddenly, I remembered that I was hoping to run sub 20:00. As I started my final push I tried to do the math. I was pretty sure that I had sub 20:00 in the bag but I wasn't positive. I started sprinting around the track. As I make my final turn I can see the clock and I know I'm going to make it. I cross the finish line and a guy shakes my hand and hands me a 2nd place overall plaque. I finished in 19:42, an average pace of 6:21.
Now for the really weird part. People start congratulating me and patting me on the back and wanting to shake my hand. I mean, I realize I just finished in 2nd place but I also realize that it's only because none of the really fast guys decided to race today. So OK, sure, I'll take the second place but the important number is the 19:42, which is a :44 PR and validation that all of the hard training I've been doing is paying dividends. That's the number I'm proud of and that's the number that has real meaning. I'll have to wait until December to find out what that number really means.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Cbus 10 Miler Race Report
Race day. Foggy. Warm. Humid. I put all of that aside and told myself that it was only 10 miles and the temperature wouldn't affect me that much over that distance. I dressed in shorts and a singlet and wore a sweat shirt to stay warm pre-race.
About 40 minutes before race time, I headed out for a short, slow warm up run. About a quarter mile into my warm up I realized I was already soaked with sweat. Even though it seemed cool the humidity was definitely going to be a factor. So I lined up with this knowledge in hand and I was mentally prepared to deal with it. I had also been warned that it was a pretty hilly course so I was ready for that as well.
I lined up about 4 rows back at the starting line and did a quick inventory of the runners around me. It was pretty obvious that there were a lot of seriously fast runners all around me. I reminded myself that this was a tune up race and I just needed to run my race and get as much personal information about my fitness out of it as I could. There was no need to try to go out too fast in an effort to keep up with the younger, faster guys.
The gun sounds and we're off. I settle into a reasonably fast but comfortable pace. We start out on about a quarter mile up hill and then a long down hill. I take what the hills will give me and run the first 2 miles in 6:54 and 6:59. My goal was to average 7:20 pace. I made a mental note that I had banked about 45 seconds and started wondering if I could maintain this pace for the full 10 miles. My question was soon answered by the severity of the first hill. Not a particularly long hill, just very steep. A few of the runners around me attacked the hill. I decided to play it smart and backed off the pace for the duration of the hill. Despite backing off, I still found myself breathing pretty hard as I crested the hill. Mile 3 split was 7:33.
We continued winding through a local park bike path and I couldn't help but notice that the course, despite being "rolling hills" was more up than down. I reminded myself to run at a controlled pace, keeping those around me close by but not worrying too much about staying right with them. Mile 4 and 5 splits, 7:17, 7:25.
I had noticed a guy who appeared to be in my age group, slightly ahead of me for several miles and I vowed to keep him in sight and eventually pass him. During mile 6 I did just that. We chatted for a minute or two when I caught him, discussing our pace and our goals and then I moved ahead of him, running mile 6 in 7:27.
I don't know if it was the continuous uphill running or if I just lost focus or a combination of the two, but mile 7 split was 7:44. I remember talking to another runner during this mile and asking her if she had ever run the Ashland Half Marathon because this course was reminding me so much of Ashland. In reality, Ashland is a much tougher course, but this particular mile had me thinking of Ashland. So maybe I just answered my original question about the uphill running and the split time.
Mile 8, getting tired, almost there but still so far away. I ask myself if I can keep pushing for another 20 minutes, and the answer is yes. I set my sights on a couple of guys who are a hundred yards or so ahead of me and set a goal of catching them. Mile 8 split is 7:31.
I spent mile 9 mentally pushing myself. Reminding myself that the guy in my age group who I passed in mile 6 is probably still right behind me and there is no way I can let him catch me. I'm still looking ahead and gaining ground on the 2 guys I had bulls-eyed during mile 8. My split is 7:29.
Mile 10. Suddenly there are 3 guys who came up behind me and we are all running neck and neck. I'm kind of pissed that I let 3 guys catch me this late in the race but I still feel strong and I know I've run a solid race and there's nothing I can do about it. They all pass me. I tell myself that it is OK because they didn't pass me because I bonked or faded, I'm still running my race.
The 2 guys that I had vowed to pass were still ahead of me and I was closing in. I focused on passing the first guy and finally did. In the process, i re-passed one of the 3 guys who had passed me. Little victories.
There is about a half mile left as we turn onto the final stretch. It's an uphill straight away. We can see the finish line although it's still a couple minutes away. I pass a runner and decide to pick up the pace. I'm still too far out for a final kick but I need to at least let that runner know that trying to stay with me is futile. The other guy that I was targeting is still ahead of me and at this point I'm not sure if I'll be able to pass him but he at least made for a good rabbit the last few miles.
I'm pushing up the hill and I can hear a guy coming up over my left shoulder. He's closing on me. I look at the finish line then look at my Garmin. Still .2 from the finish line. The guy is literally right on me. I have no choice. I put the hammer down and out-kick him to the finish line. A 7:08 last mile up a pretty decent hill. I finish in 1:13:19, 7:19 pace, hitting my goal despite a tougher than expected course.
Overall, I'm pretty happy with this race. I ran smart. I ran hard. I had to dig deep both mentally and physically. I succeeded. If I can shave 10 seconds per mile or so for the race next month, I'll be very pleased. Great tune up.
About 40 minutes before race time, I headed out for a short, slow warm up run. About a quarter mile into my warm up I realized I was already soaked with sweat. Even though it seemed cool the humidity was definitely going to be a factor. So I lined up with this knowledge in hand and I was mentally prepared to deal with it. I had also been warned that it was a pretty hilly course so I was ready for that as well.
I lined up about 4 rows back at the starting line and did a quick inventory of the runners around me. It was pretty obvious that there were a lot of seriously fast runners all around me. I reminded myself that this was a tune up race and I just needed to run my race and get as much personal information about my fitness out of it as I could. There was no need to try to go out too fast in an effort to keep up with the younger, faster guys.
The gun sounds and we're off. I settle into a reasonably fast but comfortable pace. We start out on about a quarter mile up hill and then a long down hill. I take what the hills will give me and run the first 2 miles in 6:54 and 6:59. My goal was to average 7:20 pace. I made a mental note that I had banked about 45 seconds and started wondering if I could maintain this pace for the full 10 miles. My question was soon answered by the severity of the first hill. Not a particularly long hill, just very steep. A few of the runners around me attacked the hill. I decided to play it smart and backed off the pace for the duration of the hill. Despite backing off, I still found myself breathing pretty hard as I crested the hill. Mile 3 split was 7:33.
We continued winding through a local park bike path and I couldn't help but notice that the course, despite being "rolling hills" was more up than down. I reminded myself to run at a controlled pace, keeping those around me close by but not worrying too much about staying right with them. Mile 4 and 5 splits, 7:17, 7:25.
I had noticed a guy who appeared to be in my age group, slightly ahead of me for several miles and I vowed to keep him in sight and eventually pass him. During mile 6 I did just that. We chatted for a minute or two when I caught him, discussing our pace and our goals and then I moved ahead of him, running mile 6 in 7:27.
I don't know if it was the continuous uphill running or if I just lost focus or a combination of the two, but mile 7 split was 7:44. I remember talking to another runner during this mile and asking her if she had ever run the Ashland Half Marathon because this course was reminding me so much of Ashland. In reality, Ashland is a much tougher course, but this particular mile had me thinking of Ashland. So maybe I just answered my original question about the uphill running and the split time.
Mile 8, getting tired, almost there but still so far away. I ask myself if I can keep pushing for another 20 minutes, and the answer is yes. I set my sights on a couple of guys who are a hundred yards or so ahead of me and set a goal of catching them. Mile 8 split is 7:31.
I spent mile 9 mentally pushing myself. Reminding myself that the guy in my age group who I passed in mile 6 is probably still right behind me and there is no way I can let him catch me. I'm still looking ahead and gaining ground on the 2 guys I had bulls-eyed during mile 8. My split is 7:29.
Mile 10. Suddenly there are 3 guys who came up behind me and we are all running neck and neck. I'm kind of pissed that I let 3 guys catch me this late in the race but I still feel strong and I know I've run a solid race and there's nothing I can do about it. They all pass me. I tell myself that it is OK because they didn't pass me because I bonked or faded, I'm still running my race.
The 2 guys that I had vowed to pass were still ahead of me and I was closing in. I focused on passing the first guy and finally did. In the process, i re-passed one of the 3 guys who had passed me. Little victories.
There is about a half mile left as we turn onto the final stretch. It's an uphill straight away. We can see the finish line although it's still a couple minutes away. I pass a runner and decide to pick up the pace. I'm still too far out for a final kick but I need to at least let that runner know that trying to stay with me is futile. The other guy that I was targeting is still ahead of me and at this point I'm not sure if I'll be able to pass him but he at least made for a good rabbit the last few miles.
I'm pushing up the hill and I can hear a guy coming up over my left shoulder. He's closing on me. I look at the finish line then look at my Garmin. Still .2 from the finish line. The guy is literally right on me. I have no choice. I put the hammer down and out-kick him to the finish line. A 7:08 last mile up a pretty decent hill. I finish in 1:13:19, 7:19 pace, hitting my goal despite a tougher than expected course.
Overall, I'm pretty happy with this race. I ran smart. I ran hard. I had to dig deep both mentally and physically. I succeeded. If I can shave 10 seconds per mile or so for the race next month, I'll be very pleased. Great tune up.
Cbus 10 Miler Back Story
I ran the Cbus 10 miler yesterday as a tune up race for the Cap City Half Marathon next month. I wasn't really looking for a tune up race but a friend suggested it and in case you didn't know, it's very hard for a runner to say no, once someone suggests a race. So I ran the race and I'm glad I did.
A little background before I go into the race details. After coming back from a pretty nasty plantar fasciitis injury, I began training for the Las Vegas Marathon. I had a pretty decent training cycle and flew to Vegas confident that I would run a strong, respectable race. I was thinking 3:25 ballpark. Long story short, I was pretty sick the day before the race plus I still had the tail end of a nagging cold that I could still feel in my chest every time I ran. I ignored all of this and tried to convince myself that I would be fine on race day.
Race day started out great. I went out at a smart pace, felt pretty good and then totally fell apart after only 6 or 7 miles. It was very frustrating and disappointing but I realized that it was happening because I was sick and so I wisely made the decision to cut the race short and slogged my way to a very slow (for me) half marathon time.
My goal at the time had been to re-qualify for Boston and then focus on shorter distances for a while. I had been training for and running marathons non-stop for over 4 years and my body was tired and beat up. It was time to take a break and take care of myself.
About a week after the Las Vegas debacle, I saw an article about a New Years Day 5k where if you beat the race director, you got a free entry for the Columbus Marathon. I had never raced anything shorter than a half marathon and I had made a conscious decision to tackle some shorter distances, so I said, why not, and I registered for the 5k.
So I ran the 5k in 21:25 and did not beat the race director. I found this distance intriguing in a short-term, high density pain kind of way and thought, hmmm, if I could run a 21:25 without any 5k specific training, I wonder what I could do if I actually trained for the distance.
I picked a goal race and found a suitable training program and got to work. At first, I thought it was too easy. I was used to high mileage. But at the same time, I really loved doing the speedwork, and almost every workout was had some sort of speed specific goal attached. So I was no longer doing long distance runs but instead, short, fast runs. I really enjoyed it and before I knew it the day of my goal race was upon me. Along the way, I noticed that almost all of the nagging injuries and aches and pains that I had been living with for years had all but disappeared during the 8 weeks of reduced mileage. I felt faster, stronger, and healthier than I had felt in a long time. I felt ready to race.
That was until the night before the race. I started freaking out the night before the race because I still didn't feel like I had a solid grasp on exactly how to run this short distance and I felt like the margin for error was very small. I consulted my friends on Facebook and in a matter of minutes I had some very solid and useful advice from about 6 or 7 different friends. I now had the confidence I needed.
I went out on race day and followed the plan that I had formulated based on the advice I had received the night before. I felt much faster and stronger than I had on my New Years Day race and I ended up shaving a full minute off of that time. I was pretty happy with the result. I still had a pie in the sky goal of a sub 20:00 5k, but I also felt like I had done enough for now at that distance and decided to register for the Cap City Half Marathon. Which leads me to the 10 mile tune up race.
A little background before I go into the race details. After coming back from a pretty nasty plantar fasciitis injury, I began training for the Las Vegas Marathon. I had a pretty decent training cycle and flew to Vegas confident that I would run a strong, respectable race. I was thinking 3:25 ballpark. Long story short, I was pretty sick the day before the race plus I still had the tail end of a nagging cold that I could still feel in my chest every time I ran. I ignored all of this and tried to convince myself that I would be fine on race day.
Race day started out great. I went out at a smart pace, felt pretty good and then totally fell apart after only 6 or 7 miles. It was very frustrating and disappointing but I realized that it was happening because I was sick and so I wisely made the decision to cut the race short and slogged my way to a very slow (for me) half marathon time.
My goal at the time had been to re-qualify for Boston and then focus on shorter distances for a while. I had been training for and running marathons non-stop for over 4 years and my body was tired and beat up. It was time to take a break and take care of myself.
About a week after the Las Vegas debacle, I saw an article about a New Years Day 5k where if you beat the race director, you got a free entry for the Columbus Marathon. I had never raced anything shorter than a half marathon and I had made a conscious decision to tackle some shorter distances, so I said, why not, and I registered for the 5k.
So I ran the 5k in 21:25 and did not beat the race director. I found this distance intriguing in a short-term, high density pain kind of way and thought, hmmm, if I could run a 21:25 without any 5k specific training, I wonder what I could do if I actually trained for the distance.
I picked a goal race and found a suitable training program and got to work. At first, I thought it was too easy. I was used to high mileage. But at the same time, I really loved doing the speedwork, and almost every workout was had some sort of speed specific goal attached. So I was no longer doing long distance runs but instead, short, fast runs. I really enjoyed it and before I knew it the day of my goal race was upon me. Along the way, I noticed that almost all of the nagging injuries and aches and pains that I had been living with for years had all but disappeared during the 8 weeks of reduced mileage. I felt faster, stronger, and healthier than I had felt in a long time. I felt ready to race.
That was until the night before the race. I started freaking out the night before the race because I still didn't feel like I had a solid grasp on exactly how to run this short distance and I felt like the margin for error was very small. I consulted my friends on Facebook and in a matter of minutes I had some very solid and useful advice from about 6 or 7 different friends. I now had the confidence I needed.
I went out on race day and followed the plan that I had formulated based on the advice I had received the night before. I felt much faster and stronger than I had on my New Years Day race and I ended up shaving a full minute off of that time. I was pretty happy with the result. I still had a pie in the sky goal of a sub 20:00 5k, but I also felt like I had done enough for now at that distance and decided to register for the Cap City Half Marathon. Which leads me to the 10 mile tune up race.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Be Proud That You're a Catholic
I received the following email yesterday and for obvious reasons it made my blood boil.
Interesting – no matter one’s religion..... (a point of view)
Excerpts of an article written by non-Catholic Sam Miller - a prominent Cleveland Jewish businessman:
"Why would newspapers carry on a vendetta on one of the most important institutions that we have today in the United States , namely the Catholic Church?
Do you know - the Catholic Church educates 2.6 million students everyday at the cost to that Church of 10 billion dollars, and a savings on the other hand to the American taxpayer of 18 billion dollars. The graduates go on to graduate studies at the rate of 92%.
The Church has 230 colleges and universities in the U.S. with an enrollment of 700,000 students.
The Catholic Church has a non-profit hospital system of 637 hospitals, which account for hospital treatment of 1 out of every 5 people - not just Catholics - in the United States today.
But the press is vindictive and trying to totally denigrate in every way the Catholic Church in this country They have blamed the disease of pedophilia on the Catholic Church, which is as irresponsible as blaming adultery on the institution of marriage.
Let me give you some figures that Catholics should know and remember. For example, 12% of the 300 Protestant clergy surveyed admitted to sexual intercourse with a parishioner; 38% acknowledged other inappropriate sexual contact in a study by the United Methodist Church , 41.8% of clergy women reported unwanted sexual behavior; 17% of laywomen have been sexually harassed.
Meanwhile, 1.7% of the Catholic clergy has been found guilty of pedophilia. 10% of the Protestant ministers have been found guilty of pedophilia. This is not a Catholic Problem.
A study of American priests showed that most are happy in the priesthood and find it even better than they had expected, and that most, if given the choice, would choose to be priests again in face of all this obnoxious PR the church has been receiving.
The Catholic Church is bleeding from self-inflicted wounds. The agony that Catholics have felt and suffered is not necessarily the fault of the Church. You have been hurt by a small number of wayward priests that have probably been totally weeded out by now.
Walk with your shoulders high and you head higher. Be a proud member of the most important non-governmental agency in the United States ...
Then remember what Jeremiah said: 'Stand by the roads, and look and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is and walk in it, and find rest for your souls'. Be proud to speak up for your faith with
pride and reverence and learn what your Church does for all other religions.
Be proud that you're a Catholic."
That's right, be proud that you're a Catholic. My response to the email follows.
Interesting – no matter one’s religion..... (a point of view)
Excerpts of an article written by non-Catholic Sam Miller - a prominent Cleveland Jewish businessman:
"Why would newspapers carry on a vendetta on one of the most important institutions that we have today in the United States , namely the Catholic Church?
Do you know - the Catholic Church educates 2.6 million students everyday at the cost to that Church of 10 billion dollars, and a savings on the other hand to the American taxpayer of 18 billion dollars. The graduates go on to graduate studies at the rate of 92%.
The Church has 230 colleges and universities in the U.S. with an enrollment of 700,000 students.
The Catholic Church has a non-profit hospital system of 637 hospitals, which account for hospital treatment of 1 out of every 5 people - not just Catholics - in the United States today.
But the press is vindictive and trying to totally denigrate in every way the Catholic Church in this country They have blamed the disease of pedophilia on the Catholic Church, which is as irresponsible as blaming adultery on the institution of marriage.
Let me give you some figures that Catholics should know and remember. For example, 12% of the 300 Protestant clergy surveyed admitted to sexual intercourse with a parishioner; 38% acknowledged other inappropriate sexual contact in a study by the United Methodist Church , 41.8% of clergy women reported unwanted sexual behavior; 17% of laywomen have been sexually harassed.
Meanwhile, 1.7% of the Catholic clergy has been found guilty of pedophilia. 10% of the Protestant ministers have been found guilty of pedophilia. This is not a Catholic Problem.
A study of American priests showed that most are happy in the priesthood and find it even better than they had expected, and that most, if given the choice, would choose to be priests again in face of all this obnoxious PR the church has been receiving.
The Catholic Church is bleeding from self-inflicted wounds. The agony that Catholics have felt and suffered is not necessarily the fault of the Church. You have been hurt by a small number of wayward priests that have probably been totally weeded out by now.
Walk with your shoulders high and you head higher. Be a proud member of the most important non-governmental agency in the United States ...
Then remember what Jeremiah said: 'Stand by the roads, and look and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is and walk in it, and find rest for your souls'. Be proud to speak up for your faith with
pride and reverence and learn what your Church does for all other religions.
Be proud that you're a Catholic."
That's right, be proud that you're a Catholic. My response to the email follows.
Seriously? This whole notion of the Catholic church as a poor little old victim makes me sick. They want to blame the media for the molestation of little boys by Catholic priests? Pedophilia is not a disease. It’s a perversion. These are perverted adult men preying on children who look up to them as role models. No one has blamed “the disease of pedophilia on the Catholic church.” People have rightly blamed the figureheads of the Catholic church for covering up and blocking the investigations into these matters for decades. This pattern of cover ups continues to this day with recent links all the way up to and including the Pope.
1.7% of Catholic priests have been found guilty of pedophilia. Such a tiny, inconsequential number. Let’s rephrase that number. Nearly 1 in every 50 Catholic priests has been found GUILTY of pedophilia. That doesn’t count the number of priests who were never brought to trial or turned in. And this claim that the church has been “hurt by a small number of wayward priests that have probably been totally weeded out by now” is just laughable.
Why looky here, this is in TODAY’S paper:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/09/us/09priests.html?_r=2&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha23
End of rant.Sunday, January 2, 2011
True Story
There once was a man who was married to a woman for many years. They shared many, many memories and built up a rich history together. Then one day she left him. The man was heartbroken. Worse yet, she left him for another member of his family.
It turned out that the man was well connected and other important members of the community vowed to find him a new wife, exactly like his old wife. It took a few years but low and behold, one day the community succeeded in finding him a new wife. He was overjoyed.
But then the man began to behave rather strangely. First, he insisted that everyone call his new wife by his old wife's name. Next, he dressed his new wife in his old wife's clothes. Then, he started to pretend that all of the things that he had done over the years with his first wife were actually done with his new wife. This included claiming that the children that were raised with his first wife were now actually raised by his new wife, almost as if there had never been a first wife and this new wife had been his wife all along.
As for his friends and the community that he lived in, they went right along with the ruse, as did his family. Even his first wife, who as previously mentioned, had left him for another member of his family, pretended that the children that they had raised together actually belonged to the man's new wife. She did this even when the families got together twice each year. Once at her new home and once in her old home.
After a decade or so of this behavior, everyone seemed to forget that the man had ever been married to another, and people no longer noticed anything unusual at all about the situation.
The man's name was Cleveland and his wife was affectionately referred to as the Browns.
It turned out that the man was well connected and other important members of the community vowed to find him a new wife, exactly like his old wife. It took a few years but low and behold, one day the community succeeded in finding him a new wife. He was overjoyed.
But then the man began to behave rather strangely. First, he insisted that everyone call his new wife by his old wife's name. Next, he dressed his new wife in his old wife's clothes. Then, he started to pretend that all of the things that he had done over the years with his first wife were actually done with his new wife. This included claiming that the children that were raised with his first wife were now actually raised by his new wife, almost as if there had never been a first wife and this new wife had been his wife all along.
As for his friends and the community that he lived in, they went right along with the ruse, as did his family. Even his first wife, who as previously mentioned, had left him for another member of his family, pretended that the children that they had raised together actually belonged to the man's new wife. She did this even when the families got together twice each year. Once at her new home and once in her old home.
After a decade or so of this behavior, everyone seemed to forget that the man had ever been married to another, and people no longer noticed anything unusual at all about the situation.
The man's name was Cleveland and his wife was affectionately referred to as the Browns.
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