Ten Tips for Beginning Runners

I have the great fortune to meet, on a weekly basis, runners who are completely new to the sport or still learning the ropes. One would think with the wealth of information at our fingertips, runners could inform themselves about the ins and outs of being a newbie runner. Unfortunately, separating the wheat from the chaff can be hard. The good information is hidden out there beneath a swirl of falsehoods, harebrained ideas, and anecdotal experiences which are often couched as overarching fact.

However, I have put together some tips I have culled from more than 15 years of running and more than 150 marathons under my belt that are guaranteed to help you advance. In my opinion, information not shared is wasted. The greatest thing about knowing something is to using it to help others get to an understanding quicker than it took you to get to that same point. So, please use these nuggets to help you get out the door and stay running safely and healthily.

1. REMEMBER THAT REST DAYS ARE TRAINING DAYS, TOO

So many newbies are afraid of putting a zero in their log book. They see it as weakness or as wasted opportunity to do better. I understand this feeling, especially if you are trying to get back into shape. The desire to do it as soon as possible is high. But the only way your body will repair itself is if you give it a chance to do so. Any good training plan sees rest as paramount.

2. JOIN A RUNNING GROUP

A great way to stay accountable to your workouts is by joining others in a group. You should definitely do some solo runs, but having the knowledge and energy of many people available to you is extremely helpful to all, especially those who are new to the sport. You can glean so much in such a short amount of time. Plus, surrounding yourself with people who share your interest is so much better than listening to your aunt tell you that running will destroy your knees.

3. BUILD MILEAGE GRADUALLY

Most running injuries come when those, flush with the desire to better themselves, try to erase 10 years of neglect in 10 weeks. Take your time. Allow your body the chance to remember what it is like to exercise again. And the amount of miles you do is not nearly as important as how well those miles are run.

4. DON’T DREAD TAKING WALK BREAKS

Slowing down can actually build strength and endurance to benefit your running. In fact, it is amazing what a few seconds of walking can do, even in races like a half-marathon. Once you graduate to marathons and ultras, the key to success often is knowing when and where to walk for a minute or two. Or ten.

5. KEEP A TRAINING LOG

Just as you shouldn’t be afraid to put a zero in your training log for a day of rest, you shouldn’t be

afraid to have a training log in the first place. And there is literally no excuse not to have one anymore with all of the ways of doing so online. Or just use an Excel spreadsheet. (Mine is legendary for the details it has. I can seriously tell you where I have been in this world on any day since January 1, 2006. But I digress.) The best way to look at trends in your running is to have the information available. This becomes very important when you feel you haven’t had a good run in a very long time just because the last three have been sub-par. Your log may tell a different story.

6. MIX IN CROSS-TRAINING TO SUPPLEMENT YOUR RUNNING

If for no other reason, cross-training allows you to exercise when you are not running. But it is also a good idea to work on non-running muscles to help balance out your total workout. No one needs to run all the time.

7. SET SMALL, ACHIEVABLE GOALS

Break down your aspirations into daily, weekly, and monthly goals. And then view them as such. Keep both the big picture in mind while looking at the daily picture. It is cliché to say that Rome wasn’t built in a day but, well, it wasn’t. And that new PR in your 10k won’t be made after one week of running. Also, once you have set your goals, allow yourself the ability to change them if you underestimated yourself or, as is often the case, maybe you bit off a tad more than you can chew at first. Re-assessing is a sign of an intelligent runner, not one who has failed.

8. FUEL YOURSELF PROPERLY

Find the foods that work for you and eat them. Don’t buy into fads or diets or anything like that. You know eating a pound of chocolate is likely not going to help you, so don’t do it. But most importantly, don’t deprive your body of the fuel it needs in even more demand now that you are running. Furthermore, as you will be much hungrier than you are used to, don’t fall into the trap of thinking that you can outrun a bad diet. We overestimate how many calories we burn and how much we eat all the time. Keep count, not to limit yourself, but to know what you are consuming.

9. LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKES

The only bad mistakes you make are the ones you make over and over. We are constantly learning and processing information. If anyone tells you they have it all figured out, it is because they are trying to sell you something. With over 300 races into my career, I am still learning from doing things that weren’t right for me.

10. YOU ARE A RUNNER

Not once you set a PR. Or when you get that new Timex. Or after you finally run a marathon. Right now. Before even putting on your shoes. Humans are made to run. You are a human. Ergo, you are a runner. The speed you run and the distance you go just tell you the type of runner you probably enjoy being. But nevertheless, if you haven’t had an official welcoming, let me be the first to do so.

“Hi, Runner. I’m a runner, too.”

Breaking2: How Sub-2 Hour Marathon Almost Happened

Nearly three years ago I wrote about how a Sub-2 Hour marathon would happen. Following in line with what I thought would occur, the athletes lined up to try and do so this morning in Italy. They almost succeeded.

Saturday’s attempt was engineered by Nike researchers and involved three runners: Kenyan Eliud Kipchoge, with a PR of 2:03:05 and won the gold in Rio last year; Eritrean Zersenay Tadese, the world record holder in the half-marathon; and Ethiopian Lelisa Desisa, a two-time winner of the Boston Marathon.

Because it was put together by Nike and not run during an otherwise free-standing race, immediately it was decried as "not a real race." A publicity stunt. Nothing but a shoe advertisement. And I heard all of these from runners. God damn it, runners, this is why we can't have nice things.  Running supposedly has 30 million people who claim to be runners in the US alone but most couldn't be bothered to even care about this attempt to push the body to the utmost limit. Even so-called ambassadors of the sport, who only pretend to care about running when others are paying their way to

run in prestigious races like Boston or London, couldn't be bothered.

But I am focusing on the negative. I don't mean to but it seemed to be everywhere. Even as I followed along on the live feed on Twitter (the first time I and many others had also done so) there were many who felt the need to hedge their bets. "I don't think they will, and it isn't a real race, but here's hoping they do it." Thanks for the support JogStrap2017!

If you didn't follow it like a runnerd did (myself) the attempt would be done on the nearly flat 1.5-mile Formula One race track in Monza, Italy. There was an elaborate set up with pacers to help keep the cadence, a pace car which helped the pacers, and some fairly decent weather as well (53 degrees, cloudy, and at low elevation, with almost no wind when the race started at 5:45 a.m. local time.)

The race began mostly as planned, with runners keeping fairly close to the necessary 2.51 minutes per kilometer (4:34.5 minutes per mile) pace for the first five of the marathon’s 42.195 kilometers. But by the halfway point, Desisa and then Tadese had fallen off the pace and dropped behind the pace group. The naysayers then were out in full force. The runners falling off didn't have nearly as much to do about "Science" (sic) as it did with the fact that it just didn't happen.


I have often said that 75% of runs go nowhere near as good as we would like. The remaining 25% fall into smaller categories of close to what we like, what we would like, and succeeding what we would like. The chances of one of those days falling on race day are small indeed.  Throw in a longer-distance race and now we are talking infinitesimally small percentages. Chances are good that three days from now, any of the other two men who did not have a "good day" would have been the one nipping at two hours.

But Kipchoge ran alone as the only man with the attempt still possible. With each step he took he was still making history.  It was inspiring and gripping. As I tweeted I noticed I had sweaty palms. With 5km left it was still a reality he would break two hours. Then it wasn't. The last 5km ended up being just too much for Kipchoge to do.

Kipchoge ended up running a 2:00:25, which is less than one second per mile off of the amazing 1:59:XX. Not a world record because he had pacers and was handed liquids. In my opinion, that is ridiculous.  I keep seeing people say he had a pace car and to some extent that is correct.  There was a Tesla in front projecting a light back onto the ground that showed where the runners pacing the competitors had to stay.  Pacers rotated in and out to run with the competitors to try and keep them on target. But the car was far enough in front of the runners to have zero effect on drag. Any runner trying to drag off of another knows that if you fall even a few feet back, the assistance their body gives is almost nil. As for handing the runners drink? - C'mon man. What's the difference between handing them drinks and them grabbing drinks of of a table?

(I am reminded of the story of Josh Cox attempting to break the world record in the 50k by running the Rock N Roll Phoenix Marathon then immediately hitting a nearby track for the extra mileage.  He forgot his sunglasses and had his wife give them to him. But not really. She had to overturn a garbage can, set the sunglasses on top, and then Josh had to grab them off of the top of the box. Because handing them to him would be against the rules. Our sport is stupid sometimes.)

So on the day we celebrated the anniversary of Roger Bannister breaking the 4-minute mile (another highly "manufactured" non-race we seemed to have no problem with - could it be because Roger is white?) we almost saw a human being run 13.1 mph for two hours. That's simply awe-inspiring.

Me, with the only view of Mac I ever saw in a race.

Will this happen in a "real" race? I think so. I always have. I remember in high school, when I ran track for two years and was at best a third stringer on an insanely talented team of a bunch of farm boys, we had an excellent runner named Mac Knapp. He primarily ran the mile and 2 mile and kicked everyone's ass doing so. However, we all wanted him to take down our school's 800 meter record as well. So Mac, who rarely ran this race, decided to run it in one meet. Word got around and a competitor from another school volunteered to pace him through the first loop, simply out of deference and wanting to help.  He paced him well, Mac set the record, and kept it for another decade or so. (I am convinced he would have kept it for forty years if he ever actually trained for the 800, but that is another story.)  Now, that was a real race. But someone had helped him "manufacture" a time he might not have otherwise achieved that day.  Does it make it any less of a time than what he ran?  Not in my eyes. Same with this breaking2 extravaganza.

Call it a Nike commercial if you want. Like somehow there is someone who hasn't heard of Nike but somehow watches live-steaming running endeavors on Twitter. I saw runners, in a sport that has a little too much back-patting for mere completion for my tastes, doing everything possible to run as fast as they possibly can.

Pretending that a race is anything but that is pure fallacy.

Salt Flats (Adjacent) 50k Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 11; 7th Edition 
115.5 miles run; 750m swam in 2017 races
Race: Salt Flats 50k
Place: Salt Flats, UT
Miles from home: 1410
Weather: 40-50s; WINDY; Partly Sunny

Taking part in a race in today's world is interesting for a variety of reasons. The biggest intangible is weather. And if any climate change denier wanted to simply look at what has been happening in races all over the country the past few years, they would probably at least raise an eyebrow.

Two years ago I ran the 50 mile race here in Wendover and helped convince the RD to hold a 50k entirely on the Salt Flats.  Biblical rain covered the flats that year and we had to run an alternate course.  (I will say, off the bat, regardless of climate change, weather in the salt flats is always a little touch and go.  Especially in a long race that encompasses 24 hours or more, through a variety of geographical areas, the hodge-podge of weather is a mixed bag at best.  But I digress.) It did not appear that would be the case this year and running an entire race on the flats looked like a possibility.

Then that changed. We received an email a few days prior stating that it looked like, while not as deep, water would again be covering significant portions of the course. I know no one was as bummed as the organizers but we runners definitely would have preferred to run on this amazing surface. Personally, my training had not gone as well coming into this race as last year and while the alternative course isn't exactly hellacious, it is obviously more hilly than the flats. I had been looking forward to not dealing with any climbs at all, especially here at elevation. Alas.

This not only required a change of attitude but a complete change of gear. Gone were the Icespike-clad shoes and regular ole running shoes were on my feet. This alternate course is so runnable that I am sure most hard-core "trail" enthusiasts would scoff at it. The biggest obstacle we would face was going to be the wind. And that is an understatement!

Race Morning:

One of my athletes that I coach, Sonia, was going to be taking on her first 50k at this race. Her training was going stellar and I had high hopes for her.  She and virtually everyone else were at the starting line decked out like a snowpaclypse was upon us.  Granted many runners were doing the 50 and 100 mile version of the race so warmer clothing was necessary. With a 39 degree starting temperature, my warm-blooded self was in heaven.  But all these heavily-clad people began playing with my mind.  Then I remembered when I ran the Around the Bay Race in Canada and crowd mentality got me to abandon what I was sure I should wear and I overheated like crazy. So I went with what got me here, knowing that if the sun came out as predicted, I would soon be warm, sweating, and covered in salt.

And with one of the least amount of fanfare possible, away we went!

First Aid Station (9.5 miles) 1:11:37

From the start, two guys jolted out of the gate like it was a 100 yard dash. I had looks at the sign-ups and saw one gentleman who had times right around mine in the 50k.  I assumed he was one of the sprinters.  The other was an unknown.  Regardless, I wasn't going to try and match their opening speed. IF they were going to keep that up, I did not have it in me today. 

Within a few hundred yards, last year's 50 mile winner (Joseph), last year's 100 mile winner (Steven) and the 50k winner (me) were running side by side.  This is how we did it (with a few others) in one of my all-time favorite race photos ever last year.  A first time event runner, Dave, from Pennsylvania had joined us and this is where we were. The wind, off the bat was ridiculous.  Swirling at times but mostly from the side, it was gusting far higher than one would expect for this time of day.

As the front runners faded into the distance, Steve fell back a few feet to run with Dave and Joseph and I moved forward. It appeared that Joseph would once again have no competition for the race as he went for his third straight win (he kicked my butt in 2105; helped by me taking a big ole wrong turn around mile 40 or so.) We turned north off of the paved causeway and were immediately blasted by the wind directly in the face. We went silent as we trudged up the largest hill of the course (for the 50k) and the win pushed us back.

Turning right a mile later the wind abated a bit as the mountains tend to block it but not as much as in previous years. The next stretch was me trying to see if the runners ahead would come back to us at all and Joseph wondering if he was going to a bit too fast. He was, for all intents and purposes, running a time trial with no competition so sticking together helped us both. I might be running a bit conservative and him a touch fast but it was better than running alone.

We approached the aid station where he took off his pack and quickly handed it to the volunteers and I jumped in the portapotty happy to see I was still rather hydrated.

Second Aid Station: 26:03
 
Sliding down the backside of the hill that led to this aid station was nice indeed.  I recalled how this was a cruel surprise coming back last year when I was having some stomach issues. I would remember it was here this time.

Joseph and I swapped some stories but by and large just ran in lockstep with each other, feeding off

the other's energy.  Doing so had us clip off some uncannily even splits. While he was using a watch which told his average pace, I was just running by feel.  Regardless, he wasn't looking at it much.  We just seemed to be in a nice little zone.

The wind was unrelenting however.  As soon as we think we figured out what direction it was coming from, it just would switch and hit us a different way, this time with a vengeance. However, I found running with a person who is going to run 19 more miles than you to be a great way to keep your own complaints in check. Nevertheless, A few "Oh, come on"s popped out of my mouth when the wind lifted us both and put us on the other side of the road.

Before long had passed we saw the next aid station ahead.  Now, just seeing an aid station doesn't mean it is close by. The open desert plays tricks with you and we knew it might be another ten minutes of running before we got there.  That being said, it snuck (it's a word, Jennifer Garner) up on us quicker than we expected. Joseph filled his pack and dropped off some gear and I hopped in the bathroom again. Very hydrated today.  Good job, Dane. *self-five*

 

Turn around: 21:04

We knew it was a short two and a half miles left together before I turned around and we parted ways. Joseph would run further down the road before heading back as well but we wouldn't see each other any further. 



I was expecting to see the two runners ahead of us coming back any minute now.  But as each minute passed I have both elation and dread.  Elation thinking perhaps I had closed the gap a bit; dread as perhaps the turnaround was further away then I recalled. There were no mile markers out here and the race was run on a rather spartan existence. This is fine for many but I do like just a little bit more guidance so to speak. Call me a road runner, like it will hurt my feelings. (If you follow me on twitter you will see I am called far worse.)

Finally, one runner appeared on the horizon and he was the one who had been second of the two going out.  As we passed by I noted time on my watch to see how far ahead he was of me. We exchanged "waytogo"s and I was more than impressed at his turnover. He was definitely crushing it.

We turned the corner and crested the hill. I gave Joseph a fist bump, didn't even bothered to stop, turned around and began the trek back. I was 8 minutes behind the leader. Probably insurmountable.


Second Aid station Part Deux:
20:27

While I would be running alone for the second half of this race, at least the next 5 miles or so would spent running in the opposite direction of other competitors. This would allow me to see how close my competition was as well as cheer on every single other runner in the race.  I love stuff like that.

Last year I was surprised how close one of the competitors was behind me. This year there was no repeat. I did see the two 100 milers I was running with earlier in the day and wished them both the best of luck. Then a few others runners passed me. Then I saw Sonia. I was beyond thrilled with how well she looked and she appeared to be on a stellar pace.

One of the nicest fellas running this race is a guy named Andrew Jensen. I met him a few years ago and love watching his spirit and resolve in the pictures he posts.  Andrew's brother, Matt, is out on the race course taking amazing pictures. (Most of the ones I have posted form the last three races come from his lens. Thanks, Matt!)  I saw Andrew and gave him a high five.  He was, as always, smiling.

I was feeling good, thought that perhaps the worst of the wind was literally behind me and I might run a negative split on this course. As with the last aid station, I didn't even bother to stop here. I hit my watch and was already ahead of my time on the way out.


Final Aid station: 26:34

I knew I basically had about 90 minutes of running left. In my mind I broke that up into three segments. The first would be to the next aid station.  The next would be to the top of the long downhill we climbed near the beginning.  The final would be from there to the end.  Amazing what you can convince yourself in an ultra is doable.  Double digit mile totally can be broken down into bite-size portions.

It wasn't long after this aid station last year when I began having some stomach troubles. I was hoping to stave off any repeat of that but often it is beyond your control. For the most part, the race weather had been rather ideal for me, not counting the wind tunnel.  It was chilly, dry and rather cloudy.  In fact, Joseph had mentioned how funny it had been on the way out that it seemed we were running as fast as this one cloud covering the sun was traveling.  However, ever since the turn around the sun had been ever-present.  I could feel it was warming me up and any thoughts I had previously entertained about another layer were obviously way off.  Having not made that mistake actually buoyed my spirits.

I haven't mentioned the wind in this section because it was, well, palatable.  I kept trying to determine which direction it would be coming from in order to see if it would be at my back on the final road stretch, but it was ever changing.  As I approached the final aid station what appeared to be the last 50k runner appeared to be leaving it. I definitely hope he wasn't injured as being 9 miles in at approximately three hours seemed like it might not be what he was hoping for.

Clicking my watch I saw I was just half a minute slower than the way out.  I took a quick break in the bathroom then sauntered over to the aid station. I felt that for this last hour plus I might need some calories - my first of the race. I took a small sliver of a toasted PB&J sandwich, washed it down with a gulp of coke and walked out of the aid station.  About 50 yards down the trail, ready to set a negative split, I took off running.

To the Finish: 

Even with no mile markers, or any rather discernible landmarks to tell a runner who hasn't run out here too often where they are, there are still a few places that if you pay attention you can use to help guide you.  I knew from the aid station to a sharp turn with a big boulder it had taken me eleven minutes to go out earlier in the morning.  Then from there to another sharp turn next to a crested butte it was another 13 minutes. From there to the last downhill of the course was another 11 minutes.

When I got to the first of those landmarks, I was 13 minutes behind where I had been on the way out. That included, however, the bathroom break and walking break. I figured that with the wind at my back I would make up this and more. Last year I had begun what was a series of walking breaks as the stomach problems worsened the longer I ran. This year, however, all was well in Tummyville and expect for one break to take in a sip of water as I was trying not to run, drink and battle the wind at the same time, it was smooth sailing, running-wise.

Hitting the butte, I had knocked a minute off the time from the boulder and was feeling good.  Then the wind whipped in like I had insulted its mother. Stood me straight up and took my breath away.  Then it would shift to the side.  Then it would stop.  Oof, enough already.

I soldiered on knowing that the one way the wind had not blown yet was due north.  Since the downhill was south facing, I would at least have a mile of good running. I hit the downhill, and knew it had taken me 36 minutes to get there from the start.  My time was 3:24.  I could still break four hours for the race even if I didn't exactly negative split the course.

The wind didn't seem to aid me much as I ran down this hill but at least it wasn't hindering me. Up ahead on the road a race official was painting a white line across the road for the 50 mile runners to follow. Or something.  It didn't pertain to me so I ignored it. I turned the corner onto the paved causeway and just had 3.7 miles to go. It had taken me roughly 29 minutes to get here when I started. I was immediately picked up by a wind from behind. Let's rock this!

LOL JK the wind said half a mile later and switched directions 180 degrees.  BAM, right in my face.  And just like that, any chance of having a strong finish was, well, finished.  I spent the next 30 minutes trying to find a place to breather as the wind sucked the water out of my mouth and the air out of my lungs.  I was all but assured my bib number was going to be torn from my shorts and my sunglasses blown off my face.  If this race had not been the windiest I had ever run, it was on the short list.

As the finish line came into sight (like a mile and a half away) I was just content to run out the string.  I finished second overall in a time of 4:04:44 breaking my course record by over 8 minutes.  But when you finish second, breaking a course record means you still got beat.  As I finished, the winner was there to greet me and we spoke for a few seconds.  He then congratulated someone else and my head spun around. The third place runner had finished not too far behind me.  How?!

I had the chance to check out his Strava data and saw he ran an unbelievably fast second half. In those last 3.7 miles alone he made up over five minutes on me. I was running 8:15s and he was running 6:40s. Steven Evers was his name and at just 18 years old he appears to have quite a running future ahead of him.

Fully expecting Sonia to come in anytime I took a small breather in the car and then got ready to cheer her on at the end. Then another person finished who was behind her previously.  Uh oh, I thought.  As it turns out, that marking I ignored because it had nothing to do with me caught Sonia's eye and she followed it. All told she ran off course and added 2-3 miles to her first ultramarathon. When I drove down the causeway to see if she was OK, I saw her walking.  Tired and spent both mentally and physically I could tell she just wanted to be done. All told, she ended up winning the race nevertheless and I was super happy for her.  I saw someone mocking how running coaches seem far more proud of their athletes than say Super Bowl winning coaches and I found the analogy to be quite-off base. Helping a runner find their stride and help push them to new found heights is so much different than coaching a position player in a team sport. When you happen to be running the same race and know the same trials and tribulations your athlete is going through, it is even more poignant. So huge kudos to Sonia on her first ultramarathon and her first ultramarathon win!



The race was a little more barebones than usual this year and for many looking to run relatively unimpeded in a relatively "easy" place, the Salt Flats is it (at least for the 50k).  The further distances, however, get incrementally more difficult as the miles go up. Even the flat Salt Flats (when you can run on them) only account for 16 miles of the 50 mile and 100 miler.  In addition, the weather out here can be very tough which is one reason why the organizers are thinking about moving the race day forward a week or so. I would concur that doing so greatly increases the chances you will actually be able to run on the Salt Flats. 

I count myself lucky indeed that I did back in 2015. You should definitely not miss your own opportunity to do so.

Boston: The Documentary - My Review

I saw a review of this movie, which bills itself as the "first ever feature-length documentary film about the world’s most legendary running race – the Boston Marathon" which said non-runners may be bored by it. I thought "Who the hell cares? Also, what is a non-runner?" I am so funny.

But then I got pissed at runners because after speaking with dozens of friends all over the country, the one-night showing of this movie (about the race which more or less is the reason any of us are running, tangentially in one way or another) was sparsely attended. This is why we can't have nice things, runners. We are such a navel-gazing society with our bling and our instagram pictures that god forbid we take a night away and watch a movie about running that isn't exactly about us. Supposedly, there are 30 million people in America who are runners. Why whenever I go to a movie about running are there 19 people in the theatre? (Makes me feel better that my own little documentary was so well attended in the few theatres it was shown in.)

But I have gotten off on the wrong foot here. This is a review about Boston: The Documentary.  As I mentioned, I will basically watch any movie about running. Even when I know it will be bad, I will watch it. I go in with moderate expectations and on occasions they are exceeded. With this film I had a little apprehension as the director, Jon Dunham, had done a decent job with his previous work, Spirit of the Marathon, but its sequel Spirit II: Electric Jogaloo, fell rather short. (I am kidding. Well, about the name, not about falling short.)  But it is Boston; you can't mess this up, right?

Fortunately, right.

There are probably eleventy billion people who have a closer connection to the Boston Marathon than I do. But I have a small but neat tie most don't. In 2008, after running a 3:01 at Boston, straggling through town, sitting on a hard cold sidewalk, and hoping in a conversion van with Race Director Dave McGillivray, I ran Boston again with Dave and his crew. Only a select number of people have done this very surreal jog and I am lucky to be one of them. As such, I am intrinsically interested in this race even if I have only run it in 2005 and 2008. (I have qualified for it for 12 straight years, though, so that is something.) What I was very interested in was what exactly they were going to do with the movie. How were the going to condense a century and a quarter to one movie?

First, it is indeed a full-length film. Nearly two hours long, (but under, just like the Nike-headed project that is trying to run the marathon under 2 hours) it covers a great deal. While the pinnacle of the film is the 2014 running of the Boston Marathon, it is not all about that race. But this 2014 race, the year after the horrible bombings, does serve as the final resting point for the film. Like running, however, it is the journey that makes the destination worthwhile.

If you are at least semi-steeped in running lore, let alone Boston, you have seen many of the images and know many of the stories told in this film already. That's fine as they bear repeating.  However, when the iconic image of Kathrine Switzer almost being Bill O-Reilly'd by Jock Semple (oh yeah, I'm topical, baby!) which we have all seen a million times, morphed into color freaking footage of the event seconds before it happened, I nearly peed myself. I didn't know that existed! A few other similar instances of well-known images were interlaced with footage or pictures that I bet few have ever seen. That alone was worth the price of admission for me.

There is definitely some time spent on the horrible tragedy of 2013 and it only took me a few second to remember how enraged I was at that whole saga. I just wanted to both stop it from happening and rain fists down on the two brothers who took something so special from so many.  I am guessing that race will never be a footnote but it is semi-comforting to know that time will hopefully heal a great deal of wounds.

Or maybe that is terrifying, now that I think about it. If that event has a significance which can be lost on future generations, how easily will I be forgotten as well. (Fairly easy, I guarantee.)  But I think that is why this film works so well.  It ties us all together into one race.  It brings all runners into this one shared room allowing us to feel that even once we are gone, our connection will live on in the next person to lace up a pair of shoes.

As the film jumps through time, taking us forward to the 2014 race, and then back throughout Boston's illustrious past, we are given an incredibly comprehensive, but no where near cumbersome, history lesson on this race. Heck, books (plural) have been written about singular years in the history of the 121 runnings of Boston. Somehow tying together so much history without necessarily glossing over important parts is a testament to some good filming and editing.

Without a doubt my personal bias comes through when Bill Rodgers is featured prominently near the end. I have had the great fortune and pleasure to be able to call Bill a friend over the past decade. There still is hardly any sport I can think of where a person like me could randomly not only be friends with a legend like Bill but be the one he asks to go on runs with when he is in the town you live in.

The culmination into what unfolded in 2014, with *spoiler alert* Meb winning the marathon in what seems far too good to be true for the city of Boston and America itself, is bittersweet.  At one point, President Obama is giving an invocation of sorts and his rhetoric is well-spoken and thoughtful.  It feels like, even though he is known to play basketball, that he too might have a runner inside of him.  The sting comes when I realized that our current leader would have botched this moment so bad that the film would have been unwatchable. (And if you lament that fact I am talking about politics in a running movie then you missed the point of the movie entirely. From race relations, to charity runners, to women being told they were "not physiologically able to run marathon distances"  every single bit of Boston, and running itself, is intertwined with politics. We may run to get away from it sometimes, but it is always there.)

Fortunately, we are quickly swept back to the amazing moment when Meb crosses the finish line marking the first American victory in the race in 31 years. I obviously knew what happened but still expected Wilson Chebet to nip him at the line. I still get chills.

The best way I can describe this movie is that for the last 30 minutes, I had to pee. But there was no way I was going to run to the bathroom and miss a second if it. 

If a movie defeats my bladder, then you know it is a good one.

Pure Austin Splash and Dash Series (1 of 6) Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 12; 6th Edition 
84.4 miles run; 750m swam in 2017 races
Race: Pure Austin Splash and Dash Series
Place: Austin, TX
Miles from home: 13
Weather: 70s; sunny; humid

I was searching around lookng for some local races and came upon this series of 6 aquathlons (swim/runs) put on by a nearby gym in Austin.  Occurring on one Tuesday every month for the next 6 months, they looked like something I would be interested in at a very low cost. So, evn though one was coming up in a week, I decided I would throw my hat in the ring (or my goggles in the pool, if ou will.)

With the National Aquathlon Championships coming up October 1st here in Austin, I wanted to actually give these swim run races a go once again.  Back in 2009 I had a hellacious travel experience getting the the championships game in Asheville, NC (a state I am still boycotting stopping my 50 state marathon goal short one at 49) and was able to qualify for the World Championship race.  Life intervened and I never got a chance to compete at Worlds.  I hope to not only qualify again but go race in the champs this time when they occur in 2018. One surefire way to get better at an event is by doing many more of them.

November was the last time I swam a lap and it might have even been earlier than that when I last wet my gills. I had given some thought to a swim workout or two before the race but figured it wouldn't improve my standing much right before the race and first swim in 6 months might just make me sore. So, I figured I would go in cold, lower my expectations, still be disappointed, and then hopefully force myself back into the pool. The tired excuse of "well, I just haven't been working out" is, well, tired.  But this time it was at least true.

The format for the event was simple: one 750meter (ish) swim in an unbelievable cool quarry that Pure Fitness Austin apparently owns as part of their gym (I am extremely intrigued how much that cost or how they came to own it) then three loops of a 1 km(ish) loop around the quarry.  I say (ish) because, well, the race says so itself and without a doubt the 3 km (1.86 miles) is definitely 2 miles. Sounds nitpicky but .14 of a mile at 6:30 pace is another 55 seconds of running.

I arrived with plenty of time to get checked in, in spite of horrific Austin traffic from my home to the race site. I am still a relative newbie to multi-sport racing and each venue adds its own level of figuringoutness. A small amount of foresight did allow me to remember to bring a collapsible chair and a towel along with my gear. As I walked down to the quarry I could see that once you left the immediate area of the water, the hill leading up to start the run was extremely craggily.  Since I have the tender soft feet of a newborn I was extremely happy I had thought this might be the case and planned accordingly.

You see, even though the race was just 2 miles of running, I wasn't going to go without socks.  Some people can do that and I find it amazing but that is just not my cup of tea.  However, I did not want to have to waste time putting the socks on once I left the water as that can be quite difficult. So, I opted for a pair of semi-compression Feetures socks that I would wear during the swim, and then when I transitioned they would protect my little tootsies as I made the jaunt over to my gear.  Similar routines have worked for me in the few other triathlons I have done so I assumed it would work fine here as well.

As I waded into the water for the floating start, the water was a perfect temperature. Some Austinites were wearing wetsuits but I was just sporting a pair of Speedo shorts. In such a short, fast race, worrying about a wetsuit (which I currently do not own) was hardly something I was going to waste my time on.

They started the countdown and at the airhorn (for some, maybe a half second faster than others) we were underway.

Swim:

I immediately was caught in a little bit of a washing machine as people churned for position.  In addition, I could tell that wow, I was NOT in swimming shape.  As I jockeyed for a place to get my swim on, I had no idea where I was place-wise. Soon, however, I found some open water and began to do my best to get into a groove.

The water was fairly clear to see other competitors and for the first half I was decently sighting.  I was definitely winded but as we near the halfway portion, my lungs opened and I passed a swimmer or two. We then turned westward and the setting sun blinded me, making it difficult to see the buoys.  I was basically hoping the guy in front of me was going in the right direction and I think he was hoping the same of the guy in front of him.

There were a few buoys we had to keep on our right to guide us and when we got to a small dock it signified a hard right angle turn.  I almost swam headlong into the last dock before just barely missing it since the sun had hid it from my view. In front of me I saw a line of buoys I didn't recall when I first looked at the course but figured I had to follow them. I hugged them close for the next 50 yards or so.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the finishline. I apparently was starting to make another loop instead of just swimming toward the finish. Quickly I changed directions and began making a beeline for the finish. A little perturbed to add more distance than necessary, I just used that anger to fuel me to a quick end of the swim. I closed closely on the next guy in front of me but he still beat me out of the water.

Popping out of the quarry, I was a bit wobbly. I had definitely exerted myself.  My chair was off to the right and I quickly plopped into it to make a change. The socks did wonders for the ten or so steps I had to make over the rocks.  I threw on my shoes and a visor and began the climb out of the quarry as I slid my singlet over my head.  I definitely need to get one of those fancy-dancy swimsuits with my name on the ass. Maybe if I get remotely fast enough to wear one, someone will buy me one.  Although I don't have nearly the ass for "Rauschenberg."  I guess "Dane" it is.

Run:

Leaving the hill, the path around the quarry revealed itself to be a soft, crushed gravel surface.  Pleasant to run on but not to run fast.  Up ahead there was a guy who I thought had been the one out of the water right in front of me but this guy was running with a little dog on a leash.  It took me half a loop to catch him but sure enough: dog on leash; chip on ankle; numbers on arm.  Did the dog go swimming with him, too?!

The loop was .67 of a mile around, with more than a fair share of small twists and turns, roving
pedestrian traffic, a sizeable hill to climb each time, and was not a loop I would ever say was "easy." Nevertheless, I knew what was in store for the next two loops. Crossing through the timing mat in 4:25, I was hoping to pass even more runners ahead. I had zero idea what place I was in.

The second loop had me tracking down one runner who must have just killed me in the swim. But his running was suffering for sure.  In addition, as the ladies started 5 minutes after we did, beginning the second loop gave me an opportunity to have the first few fast females as rabbits to chase as well.  Unfortunately, while I was passing runners, none had been in front of me except for the one. I went through the timing mat in an nearly identical 4:23 loop. That was interesting. 

I heard some footsteps behind me right as I was beginning the last loop but they quickly tailed off. I figured perhaps I had a pursuer and when I picked up the pace they figured it wasn't worth it.  Looking back I see now it was the overall winner. Thank god he didn't lap me. That would have been a kick to the manparts.

Throughout this loop I saw there would be no one else to pass so whatever position I was in would be my end position. But was it 5th? 25th? I had literally no idea.

I finished the final loop in 4:20 and could not have been more happy to be finished. Twenty-six minutes and two seconds has rarely hurt this much. The only question would be my final place. I grasped at my shorts as I doubled over trying to catch my breath. Sprints hurt!


When we gathered for the final results, I wasn't expecting much.  But when they said I won the Masters overall award, I was pleasantly surprised.  I was also happy to hear that the overall female winner, a 13 year old girl, did not beat me. You laugh but read that again: she was the overall winner. Who was 3rd place for the women?  A 15 year old. Egads, these ladies is fast! I finished 9th place overall (which surprised me as well) and two young boys also kicked my ass.  Good job to all of them!

This was a very good barometer for which to measure where I am right now.  I have no intention of coming in as unprepared for the other races. I fully expect significant drops in times, as well.  Placement, as always, depends on who shows up so another Masters award is up for grabs. But for now, a couple of 6:30 miles after a hard swim on uneven surface is not too shabby.

 Onward and upward!

Brazos Bend 25k Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 12; 5th Edition 
82.4 miles runs in 2017 races
Race: Brazos Bend 25k
Place: Needville, TX
Miles from home: 161
Weather: 70s; sunny; humid

I signed up for the Brazos Bend 25k the week before the race.  Mainly, after my last race's debacle, I was looking for a little redemption.  I had also heard good things about this race prior to even running the aforementioned debacle, which was put on by the same company: Trail Racing Over Texas.  Note, my calling the race what I did had nothing to do with the way the event was put on, which was top notch, but rather some strange breathing affliction which hit me partway through making it almost impossible for me to finish.  Read more about that here.

But with the Salt Flats 50k coming up here in three weeks, I did not wish to go into this race without something good under my belt. I hoped the supposed flat and very runnable course touted here would do that for me. The weather wasn't going to be much better for my racing tastes than it was at the other race but it didn't seem like it would be worse. That's saying something for Texas.

I stayed in nearby Rosenberg as I did not want to make the 2.5 hour drive the morning of and am not nearly hearty enough of a soul to camp out the night before a race. I can run a long way and do things others cannot, but I also want a nice comfy bed, my own toilet, and Pawn Stars on History Channel the night before a race. I did still get up earlier than I would desire just to make sure I made it through the gate of the park, the walk from the parking lot and setting up my chair to sit down and wait out the start. I made it to the park just fine, used the facilities, milled around a bit as I cheered on the 50k starters and tried to get psyched up. I wanted a top 5 finish but more than anything I wanted a good race.

First Aid Station: 4 miles

When the gun sounded two guys shot out of the gate. I knew if they were keeping that pace, I
wasn't catching them. If they weren't, well, they would come back to me. I initially let them go not because of any major design by rather because, as has happened in probably 99% of the races I have run, people were starting in front of me (and others) who should not be starting there. Until the very last race I run, I will never understand why people line up in a place that all but guarantees that dozens of people will be forced to immediately pass you. Never. Will never, ever understand that.

Two women I recognized and a chap I ran against at the San Felipe ShootOut (Brett) also were in front of me, after I finally extracted myself from the slowly flailing arms and legs of the out-of-place. Up ahead was one exceedingly tall chap (named Tim) who I immediately felt some sympathy.  Not just because of how hard racing with that much frame much be but just day to day life. I am 6'1'' and the world isn't really built for me.  He was 6'5'' if he was an inch. Just not fun.


For the first half mile, as the course did some small twists and turns to get out of the starting area and skirted through the two Horseshoe Lakes, I fell into a rhythm. As I hugged the curves and cut the tangents, I didn't even hear a young guy come up from behind me. Wearing Vibram Five Fingers he passed me and I swore a bit. I hate when anyone wearing those shoes passes me. This distaste is irrational but it is my pet peeve. Now, from my count, I was in 8th place. And *spoiler alert*, that is where I would stay for the rest of the race (even though the end results say I finished 7th, for some reason they do not list Tall Tim.)  You can now stop reading if the end result is all you came here for. 

Still here?  I will continue.

My biggest concern was how shaded the course would be during this race.  To say I was nervous given my previous race is an understatement. However, for this time of day, I would say that 75% of the course was under some canopy of tree. I knew this may change as the day went on but if I could get an hour or so under shade, I could power through the rest. The other runners in front of me quickly spread out to their respective positions and once there, stayed almost the exact same distance in front of me the rest of the race. I almost think that if I had just matched their initial bursts I would have been close behind them at the end. (I was able to see a couple of their Strava splits and this bears out. Interesting that the first few miles more or less decided the entire race. Just two people changed positions after this first mile.)  But truth be told, I was concerned about how my lungs were going to work, my legs were going to function, and I just decided I was going to let this race come to me. Whatever it gave me, I would take.

There were no mile markers to mention and not much to go off of with regards to pace. As we quickly began passing runners doing the other races, it was a confidence booster. Granted it does nothing for your overall standing but passing anyone always helps you mentally.

At 1.5 miles we had a 180 degree turn for an out and back and I got to see how close other runners were behind me. Some I recognized from the Shootout were in positions I assumed they would be in and a few others I did not recognize. I think I saw virtually every other runner behind us and a few shouted my name. I returned greetings and tried to stay as far right as possible. For some reason, even though I was the 8th person to pass people, some were still running three abreast. The looks of "Yeah, but why?" I would give them if I wasn't wearing sunglasses would probably be meme-worthy.

As we approached Elm Lake, I saw a photographer taking pictures not of runners but rather the water. Could it be?!

This race is known for being in a park where there are active alligators. Apparently great pains are gone to make sure they don't bother runners but they are apex predator lizard missile and there are no guarantees. As I approached the man with the camera I looked in the water and lo and behold there was a little dinosaur sliding through the top of the morning stillness. I was so excited! I momentarily spaced out and my speed dropped. But it was worth it!

We left the lake, and went through a moss-covered tree-lined section and over a wooden bridge. The bridge was cool but a little narrow when more than a few people were on it. A little of trail etiquette goes a long way and at no point in any race should probably be running three abreast. Speaking of abreast, outside of Utah, I have never seen so many fake mammaries in an ultra race. I saw this proliferation of silicone at the Shootout as well. A curiosity to say the least. I think this is a sign that ultras are becoming more and more mainstream. Looks like the diehards are going to have to embrace some other ridiculous thing to move onto. (Oh, look.  Barkley Marathons just got unprecedented publicity in the past week or so. Total coincidence, I am sure.) But I digress.

The aid station appeared and I didn't stop. I looked at my watch and was happy. Not elated. I had forgotten to look at the exact miles for each aid station so I couldn't be too happy. If this was 4.5 miles, I would be over the moon. Varying degrees of moon overness would go down the closer I got to four miles. Regardless, in hindsight, seeing the first four miles were all under 7 minutes per, even on a "easy" trail, shocked me. If I had known how fast I was running at the time, I would have been happy. But as I couldn't catch anyone, my pace felt lackluster. But in reality, it was one of the better starts to a race I have had in a while, in conditions far from ideal for me.

Second Aid Station: 7.7 miles

This section had us backtrack around a totally awesome lookout post that I sorta kinda wanted to run

up. I know there is a marathon somewhere in Wisconsin or something where you have to ring a bell after climbing a fire tower.  I would never want to do that in a marathon but in a trail ultra I could see the fun. But as the race didn't call for it, I decided against it. Plus, I didn't see a bell.

We then we retraced our steps along the cool wooden footbridge (again, people not running single file) under the trees and back to Elm Lake, circumnavigating it the other direction from previously. I then saw not one, but two, gators! I was loving it!  I began to wonder when they would come out on the paths as was warned they might and if this would be the last I would see of them (unfortunately, it was.)

On this crushed gravel path, I saw I had gained a little ground on the runners in front of me. It was difficult to actually ascertain which runners were in our race as so many other runners in the other races were on the course. However, here and there, based on shirt colors and memorizing runner forms, I would catch a glimpse. As we ran nearby the starting point, and turned away, I was feeling fairly good. Then we hit the quicksand.

OK, not actual quicksand but for half of a mile we were running in cinders along a path that I had walked to the start early in the morning. It slowed everything down to what felt like molasses and right here the sun was beating down. I thought this might be the beginning of the end for me as I was feeling quite drained. But getting out of both the cinders and he sun, crossing a road and onto a paved path (with a patchwork of cracks filled with tar that was so extensive they should have just tarred the whole path) and I immediately felt better.

We crossed another road, did a sharp 45 degree angle, ran about a half of a mile and the other aid station popped out of nowhere. As I was sporting my Camelbak, I didn't really need anything to drink. If there had been less people milling around I might have grabbed a cool glass of Fanta or something but alas. The wonderful thing about ultra/trail aid stations is that they are smorgasbord.  They are also traps for grazers and tend to draw you in, making you unaware of someone who might just want to grab a cup and go. I skipped it all and kept going. Time wise, going by what I thought it would take me to run this race, I was slightly over halfway done. I was still feeling fairly decent.


Third Aid Station: 10.9 miles

There was no shortage of people around me here even if there wasn't a single spectator. Runners in all the different races were coming and going so there was always some activity. Nevertheless, it was easy to feel alone simply because, like repeating background in a low budget cartoon, the people you are not racing against can tend to fade off into the background. I tried to "goodjob" every person I passed but more often than not didn't waste my breath on those wearing headphones.

As I had more or less acquiesced that I was in the position I was going to be in for the rest of the race, I will admit I sort of fell a bit out of race mode. Without any mile markers I had no real idea of my speed but it didn't feel fast at all. As such, I was passing time looking at all the gear people had.  ompression sleeves, handheld water bottle, hydration packs, taped shoulders with fancy colors, knee braces, trucker hats, and every discernible shoe which has ever been made. It truly is amazing how much product is tied up into running - a sport which really doesn't need much product. But good for all these companies trying to make a buck.

Before I expected it, the two lead runners, separated by mere feet came back toward me. Either they were blasting it or I was slowing down as I did not expect to see them so quickly. It turns out they were indeed running fast but so was I. Next up were the overall female runner and Tall Tim. Thirty seconds behind them were the second woman and Brett. I could see up ahead was the turn around and Vibram guy was coming back to me. I wasn't really expecting to be turning around so quick and this gave me pause. Were we just going to run back to the start or were we going to pass it to add on some extra miles. No time to worry about it now. Turn around and head back.


Fourth Aid Station: 14.1 miles

Regardless of how much further we may have to run back to the finish, I at least knew how far it was to get back to the next aid station, time-wise. I felt like I was slowing here as I lost sight of all the runners I was racing in between the rest of the participants. I could have sworn I was running over 8:00 per mile but I only had one single mile above 7:30. Again, it was just the relative nature of running against fast people which made me feel slow.

As we headed back the way we came, I did not know it but I was shortening the gap between me and the other runners. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and my tired overheated body to cramp or tire. However, even though I felt I was slowing, I still felt good. In and out of the next aid station I went without stopping, again drawing from the ice cold reservoir of my Camelbak strapped to my

back.

To The Finish: 

I was trying hard to figure out how much was left of the race based on runners in all the other races. It involved an elaborate using of the maths and who I saw where based on what race they were running, but in the end it did nothing but occupy my mind for a bit. My slowest mile of the whole race came after the aid station as I dealt with a dicey situation passing a few runners, and then making just a slight misstep in the wrong direction. A "wrong way" sign quickly put me back on course but this would be the only mile that wasn't under 7:30 for the whole race.

I passed a few runners doing the 50 mile race and I just felt bad.  They told me "Good job!" and all I could think was how happy I was to be running 1/3 the distance they were. As I got closer to where I knew we started I looked at my watch. I knew there was no way that we could just finish back at the start without making some sort of loop to add on some distance.

Back onto the cinder path I traveled, getting ready to push for what I thought was the last mile. Up ahead I saw other runners in all the other races simply heading toward the finish arch. It suddenly dawned on me that this was indeed the finish and  before I could even begin to muster some sort of a finishing sprint, it was all over. I finished 8th overall in a time of 1:46:34.

My time was exponentially faster than I thought it would be for two reasons:
1. The course was undeniably short. My guess is half of a mile.
2. I ran WAY faster than I thought I was running. I can't tell you how pleased that made me when I plugged in my data and saw so many sub-7 minute miles.

As I stated earlier, I was very worried how this race was going to go with my breathing problems at the Shootout two weeks prior. I was worried how everything was going with my training for the Salt Flats 50k. I have been home more these first three months of the year than any time in the past decade. As such, my miles are the highest they have ever been, even if I have not been putting in individual long runs. This all gave me the confidence I need heading into my last two weeks before Salt Flats to try and defend my title there.  Now, if I can just get some nice weather there, I should be ok.

I was beyond happy that I liberally applied some Body Glide as I was, per usual, sweating like a

whore on Nickel Night. A few weeks ago I went for a ten miler and forgot to apply the Glide. I ended up with some of the worst chafing you can imagine from such a short run. This picture does not even do it justice how I was torn to shreds on both sides of my body, around my torso, and in places that can't be pictured. So, to come out chafe-free from this race was a huge win.  I wore my Features socks and they kept my feet fantastically blister-free.  The aforementioned Camelbak Circuit continues to be an outstanding pack and I plan on using it for Salt Flats as well. I opted for the Julbo Aero sunglasses as they had a lighter lens and I wasn't aware how dark it would being in the park at the start of the race. All in all, my gear choices were all spot-on.

In spite of the short course, the race was once again excellently put on by Trail Racing Over Texas. There is indeed a nice festival atmosphere to the races they put on without being too much about not competing. They want you to have a good time, they encourage all types of runners or all shapes with very generous cutoffs yet at the same time they don't have disdain for those who have the gall to want to run fast.  That is a very nice and rare combination. Kudos to Rob and his crew at TROT for another well-run event. (Although, damn it, Master's Awards should start at 40, not 50. I am old! Give me a trinket when I am the fastest old guy!)

If you get a chance you need to put one of these events in your racing plans. You will not be disappointed.