Back to the Future Run

Runners have always been a little...different. Sometimes we can be a little insufferable with our talk of all the races we run or vertical feet we have climbed. You may tire of our 26.2 stickers or our constant need to hydrate and lube our unmentionables.  But for the most part we do fun things.

With the advent of tracking technology, those fun things often come in the ways of what we draw with the routes we run. At least three different people have proposed to their loved ones with the routes they ran. (I guess that says something about both ingenuity and the desire to make sure other people know how creative you think you are that these make their way to the public.)
 
That said, I will admit I have also joined in the fun with a couple of different routes myself including one that professes my love for running, how much I heart Oregon, and if you don't like it, talk to the hand.

Absolutely, running can be a little tiring at sometimes and there is nothing wrong with spicing it up with some funnery out on the course.

Which is why I am proposing that on Oct 21st, 2015, we all pay homage to Back to The Future and the fact that it will be the day that Marty McFly flew to in Back to the Future and its sequel. Once you get over the shock that this date which was 30 years in the future is Wednesday, think about how much fun you can have. Forget 1.21 gigawatts. Run 12.1 miles (or kilometers, if you'd like.)  The run doesn't have to draw the DeLorean (but seriously, if you do that, I will probably find a way to give you a prize of some sort.) or be all that inventive. It will just be a fun way to get in some miles, connect yourself further to your running brethern and, burn off about 1500 calories.

So, where Doc Brown was going they don't need roads, we are runners and we need something under out feet.  Go get yours and share it with me!

2000 Miles and Counting

I have never been what I would consider a high-mileage runner. I feel that many people can not only get by, but can excel doing races of most distances without the totals that get bandied around like badges of honor. Runners read books like Once a Runner and idolize elites who throw down a 140 mile week in their peak training times. We join groups that says we will run the number of miles of the year regardless of whether running that many miles is good for what our racing schedule is like. We talk about "vert" in our running and how much elevation change this and up and down that. Workouts used to be hidden from all but those who just ran with you. Now you can share a picture with a snappy font of your miles and elevation change with just the right filter to make you look so badass.

The great marathoner Steve Jones was quoted in Competitor magazine as having an opinion about what makes an actual marathoner. It seems he feels just completing one does not make you a marathoner. Obviously, Jones was not saying if you finish a marathon you aren't one. It is quite clear he was referring to something more undefinable and existential. Of course, people with too thin of skin lost their minds. (His full quote was: "I have to be careful what I say because I get called out on it sometimes, but I don’t believe that starting and finishing a marathon makes you a marathoner. I don’t believe that. If you’re racing it to go as fast as you can, that’s completely different than being part of an event and just wanting to get from point A to point B.")

I can't say I agree 100% with Jones although I understand what he means. Racing is indeed for everyone these days and that is a good thing. But to many, the idea is that when you put on a bib number and toe the line, there is an understood agreement you will give your best that day. This was, of course, much easier to believe when you only ran four or five races a year and were able to do that sort of all-or-nothing approach. Times have changed, however. I would say mostly for the better. As with anything, there are a million different definitions of racing, running, or, for this instance "high mileage."

My next run will put me over 2,000 miles for this year. That will be the 9th straight year I have run over 2,000 miles. (For the curious, 1771, 2112, 2886, 2456, 2429, 2006, 2374, 2506, 2240 are my totals since 2006.  N.B. that the 1771 was the year I raced 52 Marathons. That was my lowest total by far in the year I did the thing that is probably the reason why you even remotely care what I have to say.) For some people 2,000 miles is nothing. For many more, it is a high amount. But without context it means not much at all.

I haven't had a particularly good racing year. I eked out a sub-3 hour marathon earlier in the year to end a small drought in doing so. But other than that, nothing much has been exciting to me on the race clock. Part of my racing is sacrificed because I make a living in the running world which ironically means my racing suffers. Another caveat is how I have been trying and taking part in all differing sorts of races which makes it difficult to even be as good as I can be in one particular discipline (however good that may be.) But in spite of that, I will run a lot of miles this year. In fact, if the year holds up, this will be the 2nd most miles I have ever run. Yet the results hardly correlate to the mileage. In 2009, for example, I "just" ran 2456 miles but ran 29 races, (21 marathons and set my current PRs in the 5k, marathon, and 50k.) Then again, in 2008, the year I ran the most miles, I had my most sub-3s in one year at 6. So who knows?

The point I am trying to make is that no one should care who wins the workout. If you are concerned about how fast you race (and to be honest with yourself, if you race you should care) then there should be no need to run any further than necessary to achieve those results. Is it nice to hit rounded zero milestones? Sure. But if it is really getting you down because you aren't reaching them, just convert to kilometers. 2000 kms is just 1242 miles. You get all the zeroes without all the mileage. Just remember, for basically 99.99% of the population (definitely including myself), no one cares about how far you've run unless they are just trying to tell you that they have run further. If they get off on that then let them do so. If you enjoy racing faster, then let the results do the talking.

For me, I can say that I am often impressed with results. However, I am far more inspired by effort. So,
regardless of what your finishing time is at the end of a race, if you gave all you had on that day, consider me a fan.

Run Free - The Caballo Blanco Biopic

I had the opportunity to watch Run Free, the movie about one of the central figures in the best-selling book, Born to Run, the other day. As a fan of the sport, I will support just about anything that comes along in this fashion, especially if it is done in rather grass roots kind of way (Run Free was made possible by Kickstarter.) Having written three books and had a movie made about some of my own endeavors, none of which were exactly funded by Random House or Steven Spielberg, I like to give back where I can to the sport that has given me so much.

What I find shocking is how little others in the sport of running will do the same. One of the main reasons I wrote my second book, 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss was because I had encountered so many people who enjoyed running in races but hardly knew where the sport of running had come from, how we were able to do what we do in it, and what others had done to make it so we can instagram pictures of us jogging pedestrianly through towns shut down specifically for us to do so. As such, even though I knew the story of Micah True, I wanted to check it out to learn more about him as well as support the cause.


The review I give on this movie is going to be one that I try to give without passing any specific judgment on the people involved in it at all.  Rather, I will try to say what someone watching the movie might feel or take from seeing it, while knowing it will be hard to extricate what I already know and have experienced.

If you don't know the tale of Micah True (born Michael Randall Hickman) it is an interesting one. That is, of course, if what we know is true. You see, Micah spent a great deal of time distancing himself from his past. Or more accurately, refusing to talk about it. However, as the author of Born to Run, Chris McDougall made clear, if you got Caballo running, he would open up. "Loose hips, loose lips" as the saying that I just invented goes. (Trademark pending.)

Throughout the movie, we get glimpses into Micah's life and how he found himself living amongst the "hidden tribe" of runners in Mexico, as McDougall likes to call the Tarahumara Indians. Although, whether this is a construct McDougall created or simply did nothing to stop when others gave his book the credit, the Tarahumara were far from hidden or even unknown. Recently I found an old running book in a Goodwill store. I love these old finds and enjoy reading training tips and the like from 30 plus years ago. In this book written in 1979 (if I recall correctly) there was an extended chapter on these running gods from the Copper Canyon. Writing a book 30 years later "discovering" them is like Columbus discovering land people lived on for thousands of years. I guess if you make more people know about it who have power, money and influence, you get to plant the flag of Ferdinand and Isabella in it and claim it for your own. But I digress.

The movie then, through a series of interviews and narratives, introduces us to many of the cast of characters in the Born to Run book. The Tarahumara (or Rarámuri- it seems no one has one name in this world) are briefly introduced and peripherally discussed. But this is a movie about Caballo Blanco, even if he intermittently seems to want and not want any attention. The same dual dichotomy cannot be said for "Barefoot Ted" McDonald who 100% comes across as absolutely loving the idea that he is now known as Barefoot Ted. Perfectly pleasant I am sure but a little of his flowery prose and new-agey talk goes a long way. He reminds me of Michael Scott when he said "Sometimes I'll start a sentence, and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way."

Just as in the book, the way of life of the Tarahumara is romanticized as simplistic or even ideal. However, as even Jenn Shelton, the lone female participant of the race upon which Born to Run was based, has pointed out, the Tarahumara's lifestyle is one of rather abject poverty. Most of what they do is not necessarily out of a desire or want for a simpler lifestyle. Moreover, it is what they have to do to get by. (We never hear from Jenn in the movie personally, which makes one wonder why not.) Sure this lifestyle sounds wonderful when you know you can hop on a bus and be back in your home, wearing your custom-made water-filtration pack with your own name on the side of shoes made for you, in a day or two but would you want to actually live like that? For your entire life? Unlikely.

As the movie progresses we learn about how this ultramarathon race was finally was put together and you can tell that regardless of anything else, Caballo enjoys giving back to the Tarahumara. He might be a mixture of different things, as we all are, but he truly appears to care about these running Mexicans. His work to clothe them, get attention for their well-being, and provide food to the area is not one done with any really expectation of international fame. Which makes the next part rather sad.

(*Spoiler Alert*)

Jumping ahead a few years, we learn of Caballo going for a run from which he would never come back.  When he does not come back from a run and is gone for a long period of time uncharacteristically, ultrarunners from around the country flock to the area to aid the search and rescue. When his body is found a few days later, seemingly at restful peace near a stream, it is obviously a sad day for many. Having rather recently met a woman who cared about him as much as he cared about the Tarahumara or running itself, it appeared Micah True had perhaps found a place where at least his heart could rest even if his legs would not.

The race Caballo created has now been taken over by a new organization and while this was not in the film, this year had to deal with being cancelled because of safety concerns about the local drug cartels. These cartels are touched upon briefly in the movie and it really is a shame. Like when the Black Lives Matters folks of St. Paul threatened to shut down the Twin Cities Marathon, it is always myopically horrific when something which is so good and so inclusive has to potentially bow to that which is so corrupt or inane. Even if it has to be moved, the fact that it ran for 12 years and created some recognition for the area means it has done much more for the Tarahumara then anyone else ever has.

Nevertheless, Run Free was a movie that was enjoyable to watch from a runner's perspective, even if you didn't happen to know half the people in the movie and their views and back stories.  From a non-runner's perspective, it shows a tale of re-invention. It hits home in that spot which resides in all of us where while we know we can rarely change the world, we feel we can can change a neighborhood, if we put forth the effort. Since the world is comprised of nothing but a lot of neighborhoods, this gives us hope for mass change through lots of effort from lots of people.

We appreciate Caballo's own bit of hope.

Twin Cities Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 10; 21st Edition 
275.9 miles run; 16 miles biked; 800 meters swam in 2015 races
Race: Twin Cities Marathon
Place: Minneapolis and St. Paul, MN
Miles from home: 1726
Weather: 50s; Dry; Sunny

When I think about recommending a race to others I ask them about two different things: are they looking to run a good time or are they looking to have a good time. Very few races offer both except for the fact that running a good time can often trump whether you had a good time along the course. Having said that, the Twin Cities marathon is not an easy course. It is not exceedingly difficult either, especially in today's world of making races difficult for difficult's sake alone. However, if you wish to be involved in a race which is very well-run, extremely well-supported and showcases two beautiful urban areas in the United States, you would be hard pressed to find anything much better than this race. Will you run a good time? Perhaps, but you will work for it. Will you have a good time? The odds are highly likely you will.

After a past month of two marathons in Europe, a half marathon in Utah, a triathlon in Oregon and a business trip to Vegas, I would hardly say I was in good shape to run this race. Well-meaning friends who just "know" you are going to do good in a race are just that: well-meaning. You thank them and know that you are a wiped-out and tired mess. But going into this marathon the promises of 40-50 degree weather with cloudy skies meant that at this marathon I would be running in the best weather for a race in...let me see...Oh yeah...forever.

As I was a presenter at the race I had the wonderful luxury of having some of the amenities of being an elite athlete available to me. Getting shuttled to a hotel near the start where I could stay warm and relaxed for a bit (even if it was simply lying on a carpeted floor) and mingle with some elite friends and make new ones was pretty sweet. It also meant I had to be up at 5:30 a.m. for an 8 a.m. start, so there are trade-offs for this night owl. People politely inquired throughout the week how I thought I would do. I had no idea. I was hoping for somewhere around 3 hours and if I had it in me to dip down under. If not, a 3:05 would have made me happy. But I was really without a clue when it came with how I would do. I knew I wouldn't be shooting for a PR and other than a few people in the room who were 20 years older than me, I was the slowest one there.

I walked to the start with Michael Wardian, one of the best runners out there at being able to take on both short distance, marathons, and ultras, all week after week.  His stamina and versatility is quite amazing. Also met a new friend named Mike who, I didn't know at the time, was dealing with some pretty bad foot issues. We chatted away and just tried to enjoy the fact that the race was slightly chilly and the atmosphere was fantastic. Then we parted ways as they did last minute strides and prepped for running blazingly fast. I went to the bathroom and stood around looking at people. Oh, the dichotomy.


First Six Miles: 6:45, 7:10, 6:57, 6:58, 7:02, 7:00




As I was close to the front of the race and I knew many would either be running faster than me or going out too fast, I was unsurprised when dozens upon dozens streamed past me in the first few miles. I did my best to hold myself in check and simply try to go out at a sub-3 pace. The first mile was a little hot so I gladly backed off the throttle. A surprising hill at mile 2 helped me do just that and suddenly I was right where I needed to be.


The sheer number of people around me was startling. I did the math and found out that you would have to combine the last 16 marathons I have run to get more finishers (9727) than would finish the Twin Cities Marathon alone (8579). I have, for the most part, been running essentially training runs with no one around me for three years and getting a finisher's medal when I did it. This is a hard way to race. Having others around me was a blessing. Having so many others around me was a bit of a nuisance.


As we hit the third mile and began to spin around the Lake of the Isles, two things would soon become evident. The first was that the first half of this marathon consisted of many small bends in the road that made running the tangents essential to not running too far. Having so many others around you makes this rather difficult. You have to spend a great deal of mental energy trying to pick a path through the runners. At least you have to if you don't want to be a jerk, that is.  No matter how fast I am running, my speed always will take a seat to race etiquette.

The second evident thing was that no matter what I tried, no matter how much I surged or laid off the throttle, I was going to run right around 7 minute miles. Without fail, every mile passed by and I expected something either much faster or mush slower based on the effort it took to run that mile. However time and time again, I basically had 7 minutes per mile popping up on my watch. As I knew 7 minutes per mile equaled a 3:03:33 (one of those random things I remember about marathon pace)I figured that I might as well stick with this as long as I could. If a sub-3 wasn't in the cards, there is no sense trying for it and bonking. I didn't want to run a 3:33:33.

To the Halfway: 6:59, 6:59, 7:02, 7:05, 6:57, 7:12, 7:13


Passing by Lake Calhoun, we were onto a slimmer road where the jostling became a little more dicey.  However, in spite of the extra runners to be wary of, I was enjoying myself. In fact, each mile that went by at almost exactly 7 minutes began to tickle me. I began to think of a race I did where no matter what I tried, I ran almost the exact same pace mile after mile.Trying to recall exactly what race it was helped passed the time (I only had 82 half marathons and 155 marathons to go over in my mind as to what race it was. I ended up remember it was the Kiawah Island Half Marathon where I ran 6 out of 7 miles at exactly 6:35.) The thing about the marathon is that even at a good clip, you have three hours to be alone with your mind. If you run it correctly, you are more or less spending two hours of solid controlled running until you get to the nitty gritty where you push.  So often you are just biding time until those two hours are gone. With me, I like to think about stats.


After passing Lake Harriet there was a funny yet cruel spectator sign which said we were 28% done. I think it was meant to be encouraging but it was just a little the opposite. Around here I began to hear the chatter of a group behind me. As I would come to learn, this was the 3:05 pace group. Why they were so close to me here confused me. Perhaps the desired pace was to run even effort and they would slow on the hills I had heard about near the end of the race. Banking time, so to speak. Although, that is a strategy which almost never works. For some reason I began to worry for these runners, relying on a pacer who may be taking them out too fast. I also didn't like a herd of runners right on my heels. So, I picked up the pace, turned on the afterburners...and ran the exact same mile again. Huh.


We spent the next few miles on the Minnehaha Parkway next to the Minehhaha Creek. Even here, in a relatively out of the way place, the amazing spectators were lining the course. As sick of cowbells as I am (especially when they are wrung AT you) the energy and fervor of the people here lived up to its reputation. I can unequivocally state that throughout the course, my spirits and energy level were extrinsically raised by those cheering the runners onward. As I mentioned above, it has been a long time since I have felt this lift. It did not go unappreciated.

After the 10th mile, the 3:05 pace group passed me. I was astonished. I decided to hang with them for the remainder of the mile to experiment. I wanted to see if I could keep up their pace and I wanted to see exactly what pace they were running. When we hit mile 11 and I ran a 6:57 (a 3:02 marathon pace) I just shook my head. Whatever the pl an of this pace group was, I didn't understand it and wasn't going to hang around. I slowed down a bit and expected to fall back into my previous tempo.

But suddenly it was as if the group, which just began to disappear in front of me, had stuck a needle in my body and sucked out all the energy I had.  My next two miles to the half, both way slower than I expected, left me dumbfounded. The other thing about the marathon, which is oh so cruel, is when you realize it is not going to be a good day, you know you still have two more hours of running just to finish what you know you are still not going to be happy with. I tried not to think about this and instead focused my energy elsewhere. We circumvented Lake Nokomis and I looked at the waters wistfully. I wondered if it would have been more fun to be in a canoe on one of the lakes today than out here running.

Pushing toward mile 20 7:23, 7:06, 7:19, 7:25, 7:37, 7:24, 7:19

I have often said that mile 14 is one of the most important miles in a marathon. After the energy boost of passing through the halfway point, this mile can often set the tone for the rest of the race. There is always the chance for a letdown after half-marathon and if you run a strong 14th mile, then you can hopefully ride that to the end. I ran 23 seconds slower than I wanted to run here. Ooof.

Fortunately the 15th mile was much better and I hoped that I had just experienced a weird three-mile lull. Hopefully the next few miles would prove to show my turn around was about to happen. Running alongside the Mississippi River would be wonderful if you could in fact tell you were running alongside the Mississippi River. I often hear people tell tales of their races and they sound like travel agencies. They mention how it is near this body of water or this mountain or what have you. But in reality, while it is technically very close to any of those things, you often can't see it. All it takes is a line of trees or a slight mound of dirt to obstruct the view of virtually anything. In addition, if you are racing hard, you often only see right in front of your face. I was hoping for some views to perhaps pick up my spirits but saw none.  Then as my next few miles continued to slow, I was now noticing none of the beautiful homes to our left or even trying to glimpse the might Mississip to our right. I was trying to figure out what time I would be running if I kept up this pace. Math always distracts but it often does not give you the answer you are hoping for in a marathon.

Throughout the race there were a series of small hills. Nothing substantial but a plethora of them and while they may be small they were mighty (Thank you, Bard.) At the 18th mile, I walked up one of them for a bit. These ten seconds of walking slowed my pace obviously but it seemed to waken my legs. The next two miles, while crossing the river and then heading to the last 10k, were the fastest in half an hour. Perhaps I could keep up the pace and garner a 3:06 respectable marathon time.

Unfortunately, I did not know how hilly the rest of the course actually was.


Home to the Finish: 7:31, 7:53, 7:50, 7:25, 7:31; 7:18; 1:32

If you look at the elevation profile of the course, it hardly looks that daunting. Most of those hills I mentioned in the first half are almost imperceptible. And from mile 21-23, the hill which undoubtedly crushed the hopes and dreams of many is barely a 150 footer. But woe unto those who do not take these hills seriously.  The Summit Street that runners are on from mile 22 to virtually the end is aptly named. Even though I ran two miles far slower than I would like I began to pass runner after runner.

Throughout the race I was beyond happy the race had cooler weather. Nevertheless the sun was brightly shinning and without a doubt would have worn heavily on runners if not for how wonderfully shaded we were on this course. I would say 85% of the race provided cover of some sort. Here on Summit Street it was no different. A wetter than normal summer kept the trees from being their normally vibrant and beautiful colors. Nevertheless they were still gorgeous and their leaves were appreciated to no end.

Finally cresting the hill with a 5k left I was ready for what had been promised to me by spectators was an all down hill finish. Spectators lie. More rolling hills continued to pop up here and there every time I thought were were done with the climbs. I did the math and realized that I was not going to get any particular time I was hoping to get. In fact, if I didn't hunker down I would not be getting a Boston Qualifying time. I was not going to let that happen.

It has been quite some time since I have been able to really ignore pain, fatigue and suffering and slip into pain vision. This is what I call the narrowing of the eyes and the focusing on virtually nothing but a white line on the pavement in front of me.  While my pace did not exactly quicken, I was undoubtedly passing tons of runners (82 in the last 5 miles.) I cared not one bit about what place I finished or who I passed.  I wanted a time that was under 3:10.

Hitting mile 26 under a huge American Flag showed me I had about ten seconds to spare at my current pace.  Not wishing to risk it if the mile marker was a touch off, I picked up the pace. My eyes were on the clock and I saw its red blinking evil eye tick upward unmercifully. Finally, with a few meters to go I knew my hard work in the last few miles would finally pay off. I crossed under the finish line in 3:09:49 for my 55th fastest marathon ever. It was also my 16th 3:09 marathon. (That's what you get when you pace the 3:10 group so many times.)

Photo credit http://www.bengarvin.com/

There were too many friends and acquaintances running this race for me to mention all of them. However, I know many tough times were had and many personal bests were set. I came to this race looking to see if it deserves to be in the "must run" category. In spite of my less than stellar time, I can say that to experience the Twin Cities Marathon is to experience America. A crisp cool day surrounded by lakes and trees with completely random strangers whom you will never see again in your life, screaming their heads off for you for the 5 seconds they see you.  Hometown feel with big city know-how.

Running is not the cure-all for all that ails you. In addition, America is not a perfect place. But while running this marathon in the cities which are so different it is hard to understand why they are called twins on a beautiful fall day you may make just think that maybe the sport and this country are as close to perfect as we are going to get, even if just for a few hours on a Sunday in October.

Timex One GPS+ Review

I review very few products that I don't particularly like. The reason for this is I tend to have a pretty good idea what I will like before I spend time reviewing it. I don't get paid for reviews and my workout time is precious. I prefer to actually spend time working out as to being a guinea pig for any product/supplement/what have you that comes down the pike. So, while Timex is indeed a sponsor of mine, the main reason they are a sponsor is because they make fantastic products. Sure, I go into reviews of products from companies I like or work with wanting the product to be good. But I don't let that color my review. This paragraph is my disclaimer of sorts in case some may think my review is biased. Of course, if you do, this whole paragraph was a waste of both of our times.

That all said, my review of the Timex One GPS+ is rather simple: I like it. I don't love it. But I like it. That might not sound like a resounding approval but since there are very few products I actually do love, liking it means I approve. Let me break down my thinking process.

When a product comes out, I often will read other reviews to see what people do not find appealing about it. What they like is usually of little consequence. It is what is displeasing or what they don't particularly care for which provides me the most interest. As a little fun adventure, I enjoying trying to guess how the reviewer feels about the product three sentences in, even if they are trying to hide their overall feeling. It usually isn't all hard. As such, I didn't bury my opinion in this review.

After reading many other reviews, the biggest downside I could find about the Timex One GPS+ was people did not know what category to put the watch into. Because of that uncertainty, if it didn't meet the X criteria of Y type of watches, then they didn't like it. I never saw a legitimate reason to pan something because it didn't fit your preconceived notions for what it should do (often flying in the face of what the product says it will do) but, hey, that's just me. Yet that didn't stop many from saying it was too expensive for a watch in this category or not enough battery for a watch in that category or anything else. Most of the complaints dealt with things the watch never claimed to be or do.

I first got the One GPS+ in late winter/early spring 2015. I absolutely adore Timex's Run Trainer 2.0 and have used it and its predecessor for the past four years. I am resistant to change and, for the most part, am not all that into gadgetry when it comes to my running.  It wasn't even until I started using the One GPS+ that I uploaded any workouts to Strava. I didn't get the site and didn't see the point.   I'm too busy worrying about my own running to care if Steve set a new PR on some random hill in the middle of Poughkeepsie. I mean, good for Steve but I am trying to PR in the marathon and am worrying about me.  I know, I know: I am a 80 year old trapped in a 3-*cough* something body. 

One of the ways in which I test out a new product is by reading virtually none of the instructions and just trying to use it on the fly. As a reasonably intelligent man who, in spite of my general disdain for all the gadgetry that can get involved with running, still has a firm understanding of most of it, if I can't figure it out then most of the people out there cannot either. So the blind test is one I utilize greatly. The Timex One GPS+ did a admirable job for being intuitive. As there were so many functions I had never used in a watch before, obviously there was a little playing around. Otherwise, it was rather simple and intuitive.

I put the watch to the test on some training runs and most important, in a race or two, before reviewing it. I utilized it in an open swim race, a triathlon, a trail race, and a few road races. I wanted to give it the full gamut of experiences. But before I get to that, let me explain a bit more about what the watch is. It is not a smartwatch. It is a sport fitness device.  Here are some deets.

It has a rugged exterior capable of diving 50 meters (150 feet) under water, a 3G worldwide connection provided (free for one year, $40/year after) by AT&T, 4GB of internal storage (for music), and a 1.5-inch, Mirasol screen. It's starting price was $399 which made some people balk but as I have said before expensive is only what some people think if they don't want the product. Now, however, you can get this sweet baby for just $199. (You want it when it first comes out, I guess you have to pay more. Wait a few months and you get a steal!) Before I go too much further, I am going to send you over to DC Rainmaker's ever popular blog for a lot of the technical stuff. Heck if Runner's World is going to say he is one of the 50 most Influential people in running, who am I to argue?

My experience with the watch was solid. As I do not have wireless headphones, and almost never run with music, the fact that the watch could hold all my MP3s meant little. I uploaded them and it went smoothly but I don't use them. I did, however, have an instance where it synced to a rental car and freaked me out as I could not figure out which radio station was playing Mill Vanilli's "Blame it on the Rain." (Yeah, it's in my collection. Wanna fight about it?)

My biggest problem with the watch was one easily solved: the touch screen. I found out that the passing of water over the screen can cause some problems.  By that I mean that a button could be pressed or a screen swapped simply when you were swimming. I never would have thought water could do this but it ended up being a problem in that first open water swim. No problem. Once you start your workout, you only need to depress another button for about 2 seconds and it locks the touchscreen. Voila! It then worked perfectly in the triathlon I did. (I later learned you can depress the button before a workout is started as well, nullifying any need to wait. You just have to start the workout with a button and not the screen.) Furthermore, while I was reading that many watches will give you very wonky data unless they are swim-specific watches, it worked just fine with me. There was a little bit of back and forth but heck I could have just been swimming around the flotsam which was all the slower swimmers in front of me.

Another complaint I read was the short battery life. At "only" around 8 hours, the complaint was that the watch could not possibly be used for an Ironman.  However, as DC Rainmaker points out in the comments of his review: "Except it’s not branded as a multi-sport device. It’s branded as a running/marketed device." Of course, someone then replied "I totally get it…. I just think they shouldn’t brand it as Ironman unless it’s going to be multisport."  (This makes me laugh so hard. It is like the Concrete vs. Asphalt debate I posted about where someone tried to argue by saying "Physics aside...") So, anyway, it has a "short" battery life. If your workouts last longer than 8 hours, maybe this isn't the watch for you in fully-loaded GPS and music playing mode.

One option I did not get to try out but in hindsight is a huge selling point is the live tracking the watch has without the use of a cellphone. As technology does its pendulum swing back from tiny tiny Will Ferrell phones to basically carrying a cookie sheet with wi-fi, phones are getting bigger and bigger. The ability to have someone live track you from just your watch is amazing to me. (Also, an unintended benefit of this is if your watch gets stolen, you can track those thieving bastards down.  My friend Shannon Coates had this exact thing happen to her in Portland and voila!)  In addition, you can do messaging without a phone, and as mentioned above, listen to your MP3s. Sure, there is no full keyboard and swiping through all your music might be more tedious than one could like, but you are supposed to be working out, not texting Tolstory-esque messages.

I didn't even list all of the things you can do with this watch (like send emergency messages) but I think you get the overall feel. It's a solid watch even for the person who may not necessarily want or understand all the bells and whistles. There is definitely room for improvement, especially as it feels Timex is the first to forge into this new area of watches. Moreover, as you get to understand all the parts about it you didn't think or know you wanted, you will be glad the watch has incorporated them into its innards.

Kudos, Timex. Well played!

Black Lives Matter. But So Does Intelligence.

When Black Lives Matter became a rallying slogan, I was at first a little confused. I thought that all lives mattered. Then I realized the point was that black lives are marginalized by many facets of the population. While this country is far better than it once was when it comes to race relations, even say 20 years ago, racism is not dead. That is obviously unfortunate. Who knows if there will ever be a time when race is not a divider. We can hope, that is for sure. Unfortunately, some of the Black Lives Matter people seem to be tone deaf, myopic or unaware of history.

Interrupting or planning to interrupt those whom are on your side is not the wisest thing in the world. When Bernie Sanders had his rallies besieged by protestors recently, I was stunned by the ignorance of those doing so. Bernie Sanders? Really? How about the politicians or people who are constantly against you? Wouldn’t protesting them make much more sense? Then the news came down the pike that a St. Paul offshoot of  Black Lives Matter of was planning on disrupting the Twin Cities Marathon next weekend. Well, this just goes to show you know very little indeed.

Running has been, and continues to be, one of the most inclusive events in the world. Long before it was acceptable to be slow or overweight or far from a world record holder and toe the line of a race, racing led the way in including outsiders. Running was born from outsiders so anyone who wished to join was welcomed. Sure, there is family infighting in the sport itself (trailrunning vs road running; color runs vs ultramarathons) but that is of the kind of arguing akin to “I can call my brother an ass but if you say boo, we are throwin’ down.”

Ted Corbitt, the grandson of slaves, was the founder and first president of the Road Runners Club of America and the founding president of the New York Road Runners Club. When Janet Furman Bowman (formerly Jim) changed genders, the most people were truly worried about was the unfair advantage the gender change might make in the results. There wasn’t any real cry to exclude her from the sport. Time and time again, as social change in places lags behind where it should be, the world only needs to look to the sport of running to see how progress can be made.

So when Black Lives Matters decides to interrupt a running event to protest an arrest and shooting which they deem unlawful, they are beyond missing the point. This isn’t just an opportunity to hit a large event with many of people around. This is interrupting a place where refuge has been provided to people of all colors and genders. This is interfering with a haven for those who raise money for others in attempts to make their lives better. This is causing a potential interference with the very people who are more than likely to agree with your social stances.  Or to put it another way:

This is freaking stupid.

(As an FYI: Twin Cities in Motion, who runs the race, has this official statement:  

We are aware of the situation and are working closely with city officials to ensure the safety of all participants, volunteers, and spectators. Our primary concern is for the safety of all. City officials are currently advising on logistics; we will share more information as it becomes available.)

BioSkin Compression Review

I have been wearing compression clothing in one form or another for almost a decade now. I believe that the products work not only with helping to recover and rejuvenate sore and tired muscles in between workouts, but also can help an athlete in a workout. But different companies have different goals.

BioSkin contacted me to review their product and I was a tad hesitant. I have one body, limited training time and often don’t like to be a Guinea pig.  But I thought I would give them a try for reason I can’t really explain. (Well, they are based in Oregon and I love this state so that is one main reason!)

I wished to try out their calf sleeves and compression shorts.  The other products didn’t personally appeal to me as I had not pain or soreness in my joints. Out of the box the calf sleeves simply felt different than other compression I had tried.  They are made of a blend of Lycra and a proprietary SmartsSkin membrane that keeps the pants from slipping, and all in a 1.05mm thin package.  In fact, they sleeves were so think I was surprised at their tensile strength.  Make no mistake, these compression sleeves are tight. I wanted to make sure I had the correct fit so I tried both the large and the extra large. I can see how both would fit and provide what you may wish to have depending on how tight you like them.

On top of wearing the product when I was relaxing I wished to also see how they performed when I was exercising.  As even regular compression clothing can slip and fall when in motion, seeing how it performed when matched against the sweat which is the Rauschenberg-3000, was a good test. On three separate runs, over varying terrain and intensity, the sleeves performed admirably. In fact, there was zero slip whatsoever. These sleeves stayed put.

As for around the home and not during workouts, I am doing as many things as I can to recover as quickly as possible. I have been drinking ASEA for 6 years. I have a stand-up VeriDesk. I use the FluidStance to strengthen my legs and keep blood flowing. I am about 6 months away from 40 and I want to keep setting new personal bests. My point is I am doing everything I can to combat what I bought my body through.  These sleeves felt like a weapon in my arsenal I could sue to do so. They were snug yet comfy.  Thin enough not to create too much excess heat but strong enough to provide support.   The sleeves perform very well.

Next up were the compression shorts. I had read reviews that they might be a bit too tight to do workouts in.  I have found that at least for running virtually all compression shorts are perhaps too tight for racing. Maybe not for workouts or running but racing leaves a little to be desired. While I did not try the BioSkin in a race I did take them out on a runs. For me, at least, they were not made for running. They were a tad too restricting for a guy who prefers to wear shorts shorts. But for sitting around after a run, that is another story. They felt comfortable and cozy, something I would not have thought given how seemingly tight they were during my runs.

I have found myself post-run, slipping into these for a few hours or so and my quads feel better leaving them than after I started.  That's about the best you can hope for from compression, right?

Their price point is a little on the high side but people used to pay $20 for one of those bands with a hologram on it for "balance" so who am I to say what you think is expensive?  All in all not a bad product. Check it out yourself to see if you like it.

Portland Triathlon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 10; 20th Edition 
249.7 miles run; 16 miles biked; 800 meters swam in 2015 races
Race: Portland Tri
Place: Portland, OR
Miles from home: 11
Weather: 50s; Dry; Cloudy

Coming home from two marathons in one week in two different countries and then a quick turn around to another half marathon, I was feeling understandably tired and store. With the weekend that followed those races being an "off" week where I simply traveled to Vegas to speak at an ASEA convention, I was feeling slightly rested. Part of that rest came form a decrease in running miles and more than a few pool workouts. I should be n the pool more often as I do enjoy swimming.  However, the man reason I am even a runner is the drawbacks of the pool; namely, driving to one, changing into a suit, hoping the pool is open and swimming around others in the way.

When a few workouts in the pool went far better than expected, I thought about looking around to see if there were any triathlons in the area I might be able to jump into. It being the middle of September I knew they would be decreasing in frequency rapidly here in the greater Pacific NW. When I saw one race, the Portland Triathlon, was just a few miles from my home I was intrigued. They had an sprint distance which was all I wanted and what seemed like it might be a forgiving course.

I noticed one of the prize givers of the race was a company in which a internet friend who I had known for a decade but hadn't actually met worked for. I reached out to him about learning more about the race. We spoke about an amazing program he is involved with called "Open School" (formerly "Open Meadow") where in in-danger youth are taken from locales where they are highly likely to drop out of school and put into schools which do their best to make sure that does not happen, with incredible success rates (Read more here.) I figured a race which helps promote this program was as good as any other to jump into untrained. So I signed up and then began to wonder if that was a wise idea at all.

We often hear the lament of the athlete talking about how they are out of shape or not ready for a race.  It lowers expectations and let's them look amazing when they crush the race. However, I can honestly say that I learned about this race merely 5 days before I raced in it.  More importantly, I have no even sat my butt on a bike in 855 days (I counted.) The last time I pedaled a bike at all was the Stayton Triathon over two years ago.  So to say I was not in cycling shape is not me trying to make excuses. I plain and simply was not used to cycling. While I had a handful of swim workouts under my belt recently, I was hardly in swimming shape as well. That didn't keep me from figuring I would do well in the race because,well, hubris.

Race Morning:

With the race just 11 miles from my doorstep, it was beyond wonderful to sleep in my own bed before a
race. The last time I did this was the 4th of July weekend and just the 4th time this year I have done so. There is something to be said about seeing the word by racing.  There is more to be said for waking in your own bed with your own food.

Not knowing much about all the transition area stuff for this race, I decided to arrived earlier than desirable for me in order to check it all out. I and my best friend Shannon got a phenomenal parking spot. I loaded up my bike into transition, got bodymarked and had everything set almost before the sun even came up.

I know from triathlons in the past that sometimes finding water to drink prior to a race is a bit of a pain even though almost every race starts and ends at the same point. Finding some water shouldn't be a problem. As I needed to fill my water bottle for my bike, I asked around. No one was of much help in finding anywhere to get water and a few chastised me for not having already filled my bottles. Luckily, I found what appeared to be a series of faucets already put in place by the parks. I filled my bottle and then informed those who had been unable to help me previously where they were. You know, in case anyone else was so unbelievably unprepared like me.

The weather was looking absolutely fantastic. I can't recall the last time I had race weather so cooperative. Even the sun which was supposed to come out for a bit, only did so briefly and in spots. Otherwise it was a cool, cloudy, relatively-low-humidity day. No excuses in the weather department, that is for sure.

I scoped out the transition areas and tried to get the lay of the land.  As I was going third from last in the wave swimming I had plenty of time to watch events unfold prior to swimming myself. As I have said before and will say again, one of the many reasons triathlon will never be my favorite sport is how often you have no idea who you are actually racing against. Some can beat you with you ever having seen them race. I never have and never will like this. But you have to deal with what exists.

Before too long it was time for me to get into the group of huddled flesh to slowly walk into the water and get ready to see how these swim workouts had prepared me.

Swim: 12:33 (10:46 swim time)

I have lamented in the swims I have done in triathlons how I most often go last. I think I understand the rationale: usually my age group is the fittest and best swimmers (outside of the elites).  In order to have as many people finishing as close as possible the slower people start first. But what it means that even in a 800 meter swim with at least a 4 minute head start on the next group (here at least) I will easily be churning into body after body in front of me before even a few hundred meters have gone by. I am not sure what the solution is to fix this and make everyone happy but the current model is not to my liking.

I had heard not so great things about the Willamette River we would be swimming in. I had purchased a new set of goggles the day before the race (because that's not stupid) in an attempt to have the cleanest anti-fog lenses ready in case the water was dirty or unsavory.  However, from the get go I found the water to be perfectly pleasant. Also, opting to not wear a wetsuit did not seem to hinder me at all.  The water was brisk to start but within seconds I was concentrating on sighting and getting away from my fellow competitors. I can't say I was chill for a second.  Plus I did not have to worry about peeling the suit off. In addition, I have never enjoyed having a wetsuit on. I always felt like it was too constricting.

The course was a long rectangle where we swam upstream, turned and then swam back downstream. After the nice start and just a few people to swim around, as we headed back to the finish, I ran into more than a few of the swimmers in front of me. In spite of a few whacks to the head and kicks to the face, I was able to navigate through without as much trouble as I had feared. The water felt good, I felt good and I was wondering if everyone else was enjoying their day.

As I got closer to the dock where we would exit, I couldn't see any of the other blue caps from my age group. I felt strong but not so strong that I passed everyone. However, when I hit the ramp to run out of the water I saw no one around me. If they were faster than me they were WAY faster than me. (It ends up that from looking at the times, I handily won my age group in the swim. The portion which included part of the transition? Not so much.)

It is worth noting that the transition time only started once you entered the area where the bikes were stored. The entire run up the ramp and over the path was tacked onto the swim time.



T1:  1:37

I had seen the transition from the swim to the bike was a long one indeed and had us running along a path with a far from smooth pavement. Shannon suggested I leave my OOFOS sandals out at the top of the ramp and it could not have been a more ingenious idea. Even taking a few seconds to slip them on and running slightly awkwardly with them on my feet was far better than trying to traverse the pavement and tearing up my girlie little feet.

One swimmer came up from behind me as I ran to the transition and took me a little by surprise. Hadn't expected to be caught from behind in this little run area.  But I still held my ground, ran into the bike area and had a relatively fast transition. I ran out and mounted my bike only to be told I could not mount it for another 20 feet. So, straddling my bike, I hippity hopped my way to the area that was deemed OK for me to do so. So many damn rules.


Bike: 47:59 (20 mph)

We had been warned about the ridiculous climb out of Cathedral Park and up to the bike course. I put my bike into baby gear and clipped in for the first time in over two years. Let the adventure begin!

The climb was tough (my Timex One GPS+ has it at a 15% grade at one point) but mercifully short. We then began a slight downhill, which I did not really notice until we were coming back the same way on the way home. Here on the down I pulled past a few cyclists with relative ease. Actually, more than a few. A great many, to be exact. I felt surprisingly good. One cyclist I had climbed the hill with stayed in front of me and I was trying to use him to gauge my effort. I needed this gauge because I still have no idea how hard an effort should feel on a bike. Most of the time I feel I am maxed out just to have someone pass me who I easily can match. So I often need to find someone who reminds me to pedal harder. In this race, I was more than pleased with how I was doing just that. Perhaps I would surprise myself with my amazing innate athleticism.  Then we hit a hill.

It wasn't a big hill. Just an overpass. But I felt like I came to a dead stop. A few cyclists I passed caught up to me. A few in front of me pulled away. When we hit the other side of the overpass and I let loose with my pedaling I remembered the fun part of being a 185 lb cyclist: downhills! In no time I hit 35 mph and cruised along the highway. Until we hit another overpass. Darn it.

At one point I could see we seemed to have other cyclists joining us from the side. I surmised correctly it was the Olympic distance triathletes doing their partial second loop. The only problem was they had to make a u-turn, slowing down, right at the point where we went from two lanes to one. Doing so created a bit of a bottle neck.  For a person who has had two bad crashes on the bike, this was not my cup of tea. In fact, whenever anyone came close to me, I definitely slowed off the pedaling a little bit and grabbed the handlebars a bit more. Hard to be aggressive when you are overcautious.

When the course opened up and flattened again, I too was able to let loose. I began passing cyclists again, including some who had passed me. It seemed as long as there were few turns and flat terrain, I could power by people no problem. I wondered if the muscles that allow you to cycle strongly on flats are the same ones you the most use in running. This potential corollary was the only thing I could find as to why I was able to so easily cruise by people with far better bikes, far niftier gear, and far better calf muscles than me.

Heading back, I finally felt like I could relax up a bit as I knew what was in store. A tight joiner with Olympic distance cyclists, a few overpasses and a small rise toward the finish was all that was left. Unfortunately, near the end, we could not take advantage of the screaming downhill as it was far too steep and we also had to come to a quick stop. In fact, if I had been a little quicker my stop would have been more abrupt.

A train had cut off some of the cyclists for differing amounts of time as it passed through right before the transition area. I actually remember hearing the train but wasn't too concerned. I had been overly concerned with the downhill and the jackwagon who threaded the needle between me and another cyclist on this screaming downhill. What in the hell those extra seconds meant here was beyond me. Total jerk move.  I knew nothing about the train until later. And then it would bother me as much as others.

T2: 55 seconds

Nothing much to say about this transition. It went rather smoothly and I was soon out of the area and ready to take on some runners. 

Run: 21:09

I knew the 5k course went over the St. John's Bridge. It is a towering and gorgeous bridge that is also in need of some serious repair. In repose waiting for the awards after the race, I looked up at the crumbling concrete pillars of the base and thought "Oof. America needs to fix its infrastructure quickly."  But right here I just knew we had to get up to the bridge to cross it. That meant we had to climb that big damn hill again.

As we left the transition area and ran over a twisty and turny bike path (Grr. Hate these) one could hardly turn any speed on. It was not a path designed for speed and the crowds nestled in deep or randomly walking across your path didn't help. (Neither did the little girl sitting on the wall who just all of a sudden decided to kick her feet and damn near kicked me right in the face.)  But I knew my day was roughly 20 minutes of effort from being done. So as I turned the corner and saw the monster hill in front of me, I simply focused on the top and went.

I passed scores of people as one runner came screaming back down the hill at me. He asked a volunteer where to go and it appears from talking to people later in the day, this was the guy who was directed the wrong way.  Poor fella.

Cresting Mt Portland, I headed toward the bridge. I had thought we only ran half way across the bridge before turning back which means we would only had to deal with one hill.  Unfortunately, I was wrong. Getting to the hump in the middle I saw we went all the way to the other side. This meant climbing back up the bridge again. Le sigh.

Just about then a runner passed me. I was a bit surprised by this but fortunately was not at top gear yet. I fell in behind him and stayed so close as to read all his pertinent information inked on his leg. I could see he was not in my age group but he was in my race. So as we turned around on the other side of the bridge, I used a race tactic of running wide on the turn to hopefully stay out of his field of vision.

As we headed back over the bridge it felt like I was stronger than him. The only question was when to kick. With 1.1 miles to go, I passed him on the downhill. I figured I would make him work to beat me if he could.

Now on the same downhill I saw the runner incorrectly directed off of earlier, I saw no one to direct anyone in any direction.  I guess the previous volunteer had been relieved of his post. I assumed looking ahead at runners in front of me that we continued down the way we came and simply headed back to the finish. With no other information to go on, I went with that gut and kicked it in. When the race flattened out, there were, again, some odd twists and turns that I thought were right but couldn't be sure. In addition, I could hear a runner behind me and assumed it was the one I had passed. When we made a sharp turn, I caught him out of the corner of my eye. Bollocks. I was not expecting him to catch up to me again. If the race ended where the run leg had started, I had him.  Unfortunately, it did not.

In fact, the course passed that point, made a long winding loop where we ran to the bike transition earlier, curved around again before making a final series of turns.While there were volunteers at every turn, not knowing exactly where we were turning until we got to them was a little disconcerting. The runner behind me wisely sat in my shadow and waited for me to make a decision. When I did, and it was right, he followed. Good race tactic. Finally, with .1 of a mile to go a a clear path ahead, he made his move. I could not respond.

He was worried enough to look over is shoulder a couple of times but I did not have the gear to catch him. I threw in a hard kick at the finish to feel respectable and crossed the finish line in a time of 1:24:12. Initially this put me 13th overall male and 14th overall in the race. Later, however, I got moved to 19th overall.

It seems that enough stink had been made about the train that adjustments were made to people's times. While I think that is fair to an extent, I also know people greatly overestimate how long they wait for such problems. I heard that a blanket 2 minutes was given to every one who said the train stopped them when from eye witnesses there, no one, not even the first person made to wait for the train (the overall female winner who showed less that professionalism by slamming her bike shoe on her bike seat and chastising a volunteer) waited a full two minutes.

Now nothing happened to me other than moving down five spots but if I had lost some money in the whole venture, I would have been a bit upset. But we move on.

All told, I was more than pleased with my performance. I am reminded in every triathlon I do how weak I am in the bike. This time, however, I had an actual excuse: complete and utter lack of time on the bike. But I didn't crash so that is a win for me.

The biggest shock of the day was how the top two overall winners were not only separated by just a handful of seconds (1:11:08 vs 1:11:16) but beat the 3rd place finisher by 5 minutes. Even more, they were both 15 or 16 years old. Dang. It is one thing to get beaten handily by a competitor but it is another when they might not have even hit puberty yet. Kudos to these young gentleman.

Will this mean a re-commitment to triathlons for me? No. But I have decided to spend more time in the pool and maybe I will thrown the bike on the trainer in my loft as well. While I actually fare better as a triathlete than I do a runner, and maybe perhaps could win a few bucks here and there, my love for cycling, or lack thereof, keeps me from wanting to pursue that sort of sport. Maybe if I win the lottery and can more comfortably afford the right gear and make more time to train all three sports I will think about it. As for now it is a pleasant distraction.

In spite of the less than desirable 5k course, I felt the event was run fairly well. It has a good attitude to it and a family feel. In fact, the last finisher of the triathlon, who finished long after most did,, actually had an escort of volunteers leading her in.  As she ran down the final chute, a large contingency of the athletes in attendance formed a cheering line for her.  This is the type of example I like to use for people who fear finishing last.  I have a feeling she received more cheers than the rest of us combined. We understand the struggle and realize that even if you are last you are beating everyone on the couch that day. Kudos to her.

I was happy to be able to take part in this race and make have to look into more events like this here in the near future.

Mt. Nebo Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 10; 19th Edition 
246.6 miles run in 2015 races
Race: Mt. Nebo Half Marathon
Place: Orem, UT
Miles from home: 824
Weather: 50s; Dry; Sunny

Just 5.5 days after the debacle in my name (the meltdown in the heat at the Burgwald Marathon in Rauschenberg, Germany) I was set to run the Mt. Nebo Half. Well, "set" is not really the right verb. "Scheduled" is more like it. When I left my home about 36 hours after getting back to it from Europe, I was still quite wiped out from two marathons in a week. The ensuing head cold I was gifted on my way to Utah told me the race would be interesting to say the least.


I spent the day before the race at the expo signing books and telling people about my use of ASEA. Met more than a few new friends and made many more new ones. Helped ease some nerves of newbies and talk about race woes with more than a few from Boise who had their race canceled 48 hours previously and had to find a new one to run. I told them they picked a good one. Even though this course was slightly different than the one I ran two years ago, I knew it was one that offered the chance to really tackle some downhill and end up with a fast time.

Having a good time under my belt was something to which I was definitely looking forward. I haven't raced a good half marathon in two years. In fact, it was this race in 2013 which marks the last race with which I was happy. I did run a solid effort at the tough Heart Breaker Half in Oregon in February but I was looking for more. Even with all of the things stacked against me listed above, I was hoping for a nice 1:25 or so.

Race Morning:

I got to the start of the race with just enough time to jump in the bathroom line and run out to the start. Unfortunately, there was a snafu with getting the timing company to the start somehow so we were delayed 15 minutes or so. This delay was of no great shakes given the weather was consistent and did not necessarily forecast any hot weather to come.  However when you are ready to go, you are ready to go. There were some grumblings from runners but mostly a general understanding that no race company actually wishes to inconvenience their runners. Finally, with a quiet and subdued countdown from the timing company, we were underway.

First 3 miles:

My friend Jonathan came up to me before the start and told me to be wary of a certain runner who could easily dip under 1:10. I laughed. Even if I happened to be fit and ready to race, anyone who can run a 70 minute half marathon is not anyone who I need to even be thinking about. This runner, David, and another, Curtis (both whom I had met before) shot out of the gate like rockets. They would battle for first place and be out of my sight within minutes. Maybe even less time than that. The separation a very fast runner can put on others is astounding when you are witnessing it from the tail end.

I fell in next to another runner I knew named Bill who would go on to set a new PR this day. Running a 1:19:19 at age 44 ain't too shabby. He said he was glad I was not in his age group and I reiterated I was not being humble about my chances today. There would be no PR attempt. I forget that so many runners downplay their fitness out loud that it is all gamesmanship.  If I say I am thinking X is the best I can do, I really and truly mean it.

Then I ran a 6:08 and 5:58 first two miles for a 1:19:18 overall pace.

I knew this pace would not last. The last three miles of this course, while they look flat or downhill compared to the fall off the cliff of the first seven miles, offer some equalizing rolling hills. I fully expected to slow in the third mile. I then ran a 5:55. How about that? Obviously the downhill running gives runners the chance to run faster. But if they do not take it, that chance is wasted. Runners do not have wheels to coast.

To Halfway:

I knew the downhill wonderfulness would end soon enough but I was going to keep taking advantage of the skills I have as a downhill runner until it did.  I knew I was in the top 15 of runners but could not have cared less what place I took. This race was about time and time alone. That said, passing runners when you have the chance is always advised.  It is like Super Mario Energy Stars that boost your speed for the next quarter mile. So when I passed one runner around the 4th mile, I rode the wave. Continuing down the steep downhill, I netted a 5:55 mile to get my third straight under six minutes. I then started  thinking about what times and speeds which I may have been able to run had I been healthy.  Fortunately, I put those out of my mind.  It makes no difference what you could run; only what you can run on this day at this time matters.

The course was wonderfully shaded even with the late start. I wouldn't say it was cool but it felt not hot at all.

And it being Utah, the lack of humidity was just an absolute treat for me. In spite of the massive amounts of downhill, it was difficult to really let go in this section as for about three miles, we were presented with a series of switchback and curving roads. I felt so good here that I allowed myself a moment to really enjoy the scenery, something I rarely do when I am racing.  There are far too many other things to think about when you are running hard to enjoy the trees on the hills or a meadow in the distance. I don't think this says those running at a more leisurely pace enjoy the race more as racing in and of itself is an enjoyable feat. I can enjoy the scenery when I am out for a training run. Here I had a purpose.

With one more mile under 6 minutes in 5:59, the purpose was to run faster than I had any reason to do so on this day.

To mile 10:

My left quad had been feeling some tightness since about the third mile. Yet, when my right calf issued a complaint to the Department of Dane's Muscles, I paid much more heed. In addition, I was feeling a little bit of a hotspot on my right heel which told me the old socks I was wearing were ready for the dustbin.  All of this made me pull off the throttle a bit even as I wanted to continue running sub-6s as long as I could.  Fortunately, I surprised myself with another 5:57 at mile six before hitting a 6:17 for the 7th mile. After that, though, in spite of efforts to fun as efficiently and use all the tricks of the downhill running handbook, I only got a 6:24 for the 8th mile and a nearly identical 6:25 for the 9th. Passing a competitor during this stretch and bringing two others into view made me feel like I had been speeding up but my watch told me otherwise.

I knew the "free ride", as I would call it, of downhill would end at the 9th mile and I wanted to squeeze out one more fast mile before that happened. Fortunately, the protesting in my calf had subsided enough that I felt I could push hard again. Even as I sped up, however, a blonde pony-tailed runner passed me.  One woman had already gone out with the first pack and was long gone from sight.  But the way in which this runner passed me made me think that perhaps she might catch her. (She didn't. Running a 1:20:56 to first place's 1:20:04. Given I congratulated the 2nd place runner when we were in the finishing chute and she just glared at me, I am glad the other woman won. Yeah, take that, complete stranger!)

When I hit the 10th mile I was surprised to see a 6:47. This was a bit of a bummer even though I knew the course had mostly flattened, we were exposed to the sun and on an occasion or two we had a small hill to climb. Nevertheless, I was hoping for another sub 6:30 and didn't get it. With the hardest mile of the course coming up, I was curious how much further I would slow. 

Onto the Finish:

I vividly recall this section from two years prior and how much the mile from 10-11 had taken out of me. With just 3 miles to go I had far exceeded my expectations for this race so I decided to be conservative for the remainder of the day. I recalled there were essentially three small rises in this mile and I would simply tackle them the best I could. I could see just one fella way far in front of me and heard no one from behind. No spectators to speak of (save one family whose house I passed and their cute little daughter said "Congratulations on your achievement!") gave this my usual feeling of training running in a race. When I mercifully saw the 11th mile marker I braced myself for what the carnage would be. When 7:05 appeared as my split, I was ecstatic. I was thinking 7:30 would be more like it.

In fact, this quite possibly put a pep in my step as even with the smaller but still present hills in the next mile I managed a 6:59. One mile to go, a small dip and then rise before a jaunt through the neighborhoods and onto the track for the finish was all I had left.

A bouncy and friendly young woman bounded by me and insisted I run with her.  I insisted that this was the top speed I had right here and she should revel in kicking my butt the remainder of the way. By looking at my watch, I could see that I was going to run a time in 1:23 no matter how hard I pushed this last mile. As such, running hard to finish one spot higher in the standings meant nothing to me. Remember, this race was all about time today.  I had already far exceeded what I was hoping to run and the rest was just gravy.

I passed a few people with signs they thought were witty "This is my Marathon sign" who implored me to run hard to the finish.  "This is hard," I replied and hit the last 200 meters.  My buddy Chris (aka Vanilla Bear) had just finished a bike ride and clippity-clopped in his bike shoes from his car over to me to cheer me on. VB had given me a ride to the start and would be taking my sore, tired, and sick butt home to his place to crash for the day.  He's the bestest boyfriend ever.

Crossing under the banner in a time of 1:23:40 for my 6th fastest half marathon ever was a nice treat. I love my spreadsheets containing numbers and I noticed I technically do not have a 5th fastest half-marathon ever. Two separate races, run 4 years apart, share 4th place overall.  I guess if I am a little bummed about anything it is that I didn't run 13 seconds faster to knock those two into 5th place. But if that is your biggest complaint, than you have no complaints.

Overall, the race was fairly well-run. The road was not closed to traffic on the way down the canyon but there was very little traffic to worry about.  The volunteers at the aid stations were very friendly and the finish line spread was quite nice. I had worked with ASEA to give all competitors their own personal 8 ounce bottle at the finish. I was happy to see so many runners undoubtedly trying it for the first time and being exposed to a product which has helped me run 55 marathons, 60 half marathons, numerous triathlons and adventures races all in the past 6 years.

More importantly, even though I knew the last marathon was an aberration, it was good to have a fast race as my last race run. Knowing what you can do, and having done it, are two different sides of the story. Now I must simply build on that for the remainder of the fall season and see what can happen as the weather finally, or hopefully, starts to cool down a touch.

I'm ready for it.