Chasing Imperfection

Last Minute Marathon

2013-02-18T07:21:00.001-08:00

About a week after I got back from the UK, when it became clear that this cycle was a bust as far as Project Procreation, I said “fuck it, I’m going to go run IMS Arizona.”

Now some us (ahem, SkinnyRunner and Lisa) can run marathons in back to back weekends, but, generally speaking, this is not smart for most of us. In fact, it’s arguably foolish to PR attempt more than 4 marathons a year.

But I was feeling stubborn and knew that if I didn’t run it, I’d sit there and wonder what if I could have broken 3:40. I’ll spare you the suspense: it didn’t happen.

It went something like this:

Weather at the start was perfect. I was on pace – in fact, a bit ahead of schedule through mile 20. The 3:40 pace group had caught up with me around mile 19 – I hung with them for through mile 22 or 23, I can’t remember. All I know is that around mile 21 my quads were seizing up. It had gotten warm – around 70 up from 49 degrees at the start – I was drinking much more water than I had at Carlsbad. In fact, I ran out of my belt stash and had to use water stations from 23 on.

Knowing that the marathon is in huge part, mental, I willed myself through mile 22 with a on-pace split. Seriously, I have never done this in a marathon where I tell myself that the pain is just a wave, it’ll pass, and force myself to ignore it.

However, at some point, the body will refuse to listen to your head. And for me, it happened en route to mile marker 23. I refused to give up. I knew that 3:40 was gone, but, dammit, I am proud of myself for not giving in and walking the rest of it. And I know I was giving all I had because around mile 25, I was feeling dizzy and my vision was a little weird (like I felt slightly cross-eyed and spectators looked kind of wonky). I don’t know if that means I was low on salt (I was taking salt tabs) or dehydrated or what, but something in my electrolyte/water balance was off-kilter.

My pace slipped from 8:20 to around 9:30. Interestingly, only a couple people passed me so I think the majority of the finishers around me were battling in the same way. Maybe it was the dryness or the swing in temps from start to finish but the end was rough. The best kick I could muster was something around an 8:40.

Now, whoever did the timing of this race, screwed something up. My gun time was like 3:44:08. I didn’t start at the front. My garmin had 3:44:06 an I stopped it a second or two late. When I walked passed the results, it had me listed with a 3:40:14. Um. no. I told the girl at the solutions desk and she really didn’t seem to be of help (I think she was just a volunteer – not necessarily knowledgeable in race timing). Later in the day, they posted two sets of results. One appears to be gun time where I am listed with a 3:44:08. The other has chip time and split times, that one has the wrong 3:40:14 with what seems like an accurate half-time split of 1:49:02. So, part of me is kind of glad it didn’t work out because I’m not sure they are going to be able work this out correctly – everyone will be stuck with gun time, looks like.

Am I disappointed? Yes, but not entirely. I still managed a PR on sheer will power. I got to meet The Skipping Pixie who busted her ass with her husband in the full. I also got to see Becka!

Lessons Learned?

I am able to push through pain better than I thought.
Three weeks is probably not enough time between marathons unless you are running one of them for fun. Trying to PR in both is a recipe for disaster for most humans.
Feeling how sore I am today (this is the sorest I’ve been post-marathon since 2003) I know I need a proper 3 week recovery.

Let’s Start with Carlsbad

2013-02-09T13:23:00.001-08:00

Before I move onto the UK. I know, like two weeks ago but the trip ate up a week and work has continued to be flush with meetings which means I am scrambling to complete actual work.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I had some apprehension around Carlsbad. We had barely managed to squeeze in two long runs and they were backed up to each other 3 and 4 weeks before the race. It could have been worse, but it certainly could have been better. Saturday morning rolls around, I have my coffee start packing for the trip. Husband is still in bed and informs me his head is throbbing, he has the chills – basically he is sick. The flu at that point had been taking people out left and right.

Queue freak out and texting with Nicole who told me to quarantine him (jokingly, of course). I was missing the first day of meetings in the UK for this race, worked hard to squeeze those long runs in, had to sit on a plane for 11 hours (red-eye which sucks), and then needed to contribute in a coherent manner in discussions while jetlagged… to say I was concerned is an understatement.

I started pounding every vitamin, vitamin powder, tea I could find. Zinc lozenges every 3 hours, vitamin C and Echinacea, vitamin B, my daily vitamin, Nuun all-day because it has vitamins – ANY WAY TO GET IN THE FLU-SHOOING VITAMINS.

I didn’t even have wine or beer (!!) at dinner I was that worried I would wake up sick.

Either the vitamins worked and my immune system is badass, or God decided he didn’t want to make my life miserable for a week in a foreign country because I woke up fine other than 4am grogginess. Carlsbad’s marathon starts at 6:15am so even though I live 7 miles from the start, I still have to get up super early.

I met Nicole at the porta-johns which were blissfully un-crowded. I heard that the half marathoners were not so lucky but that’s what happens when something like 10K do the half and only 2K do the full. Running the half in the future will be tough sell for me – the full is so much easier, logistically. And you get extra swag (last year a hat, this year a jacket – both pretty good quality).

We hung out with Pam and her husband who came to spectate (how awesome is she?) and then found our way into the start chute. It was still sprinkling a bit (it had rained in the days before the race) and it was dark but we decided to toss our throwaways there rather than keep them on which was a good call. Pretty much right on time, after another interesting anthem rendition (can they just get someone to sing it normally?) we were off.

The first few miles Nicole and I had to consciously work on keeping an easy pace. We had intended for ~ 8:45 the first few but we ended up clocking 8:37 in mile 1 with a 90 foot climb and then 8:29 with a 108 foot drop. After that we were pretty consistent with 8:40’s in the early miles. The key to this race, in my opinion, is holding back a bit through mile 9. Reason being pretty obvious:

Splits 1-9:

Those first 9 miles went by really fast. It felt like 30 minutes had elapsed when it was well over an hour. That’s the good thing about having a buddy to run with. By the time we got to the half, I was feeling pretty certain we were going to finish together.

I was dutifully eating my blocks every 2 miles (speaking of fuel, they had so many gels at more places than I can remember), Nicole was smiling and thanking volunteers (because she is one of the the nicest/friendliest people I know), and hoarding the free gels (including one for me). Frugal Running Mama is her other name. We had random conversations with ourselves and other people. We spotted other faster bloggers on the opposite side of the road. And we were gradually picking up the pace – I’m not even sure it was planned as much as it was a subconscious agreement.

Around mile 14 the course merges briefly with the half marathoners who are usually running a faster pace – it is easy to get pulled along too fast, unknowingly. Last year I had merged with the 1:45’ers. This year, we merged with the 1:40’s (we spotted the pacer). Before seeing the pacer, I felt like they were going fast and, well, they were running in the 7:30’s, so, yeah.

We made it up the pain in the ass hill at Island Way and shortly thereafter split from the half marathoners. Signage was much better this year than last – last year I think there were quite a few marathoners that turned with the halfers. This year it was totally obvious we had to go straight.

We got some headwind here and I started to wonder if I was going to be able to stick with my running partner. I think we were both having some self doubts because once we made it past the La Costa hill (it’s not a huge hill, but at mile 18, it’s not small), we both commented that miles 16-18 messed with our heads.

At that point, I felt like we were on autopilot. It wasn’t easy, but it just sort of happened. Maybe it was from training together for much of the last few months since Nicole moved to North County, but we just picked up the pace and hammered it out.

Though mile 23, the marathoners were spared the annoyance of weaving through half marathoners. I think that partly why our splits through mile 23 look a little better than mile 24 and 25.

We were cruising – painfully after 20+ miles – but cruising nonetheless. Then we were thrown into the masses.

The unfortunate part of running in the 3:40-4:00 range is when you merge the second time, that is where the bulk of the half marathon finishers are: 2:00-2:20. It’s the most crowded and they are running more than a minute per mile slower. It’s a pain in the ass. This year I knew it was coming so it didn’t affect me as much, mentally. But it didn’t help the fact that I always run longer than 26.2 at Carlsbad. Tangents thrown out the window.

The final miles were rough and we just gutted it out. Best way I can describe it.

PR by a 1:20! I think I ran 3:46:45 at Wineglass (easier course, too).

Three years of Carlsbad medals:

I like the ribbon on the 2013, but the medal itself is pretty boring. I think my favorite was definitely last year’s.

A little useless pat on the back I give myself is that had the BAA not changed then qualification standards, this time would have qualified me for 2014 Boston (35-39 was 3:45:xx, not 3:39:xx). Though I tend to agree that maybe the bar was too low – barely getting in our long runs and the both of us would have BQ’d. So, yeah, I guess I agree with the change, if slightly begrudgingly.

I hung around about 15 minutes with Pam, Nicole, and her super-nice fam, but had to high-tail it home to finish packing for our 6:30 LAX-LHR flight…

Zinfandel is Dangerous

2013-01-24T22:03:00.001-08:00

I’m not talking about the weak-ass girly shit of White Zinfandel (this many offend some, but, seriously, it is just one step above a wine cooler), but the Big Red Zin. You can expect that most Zins will be around 14-15%, but because it isn’t super dry and it’s IS super fruity, it can trick you. Let’s just say that pouring out the last bit of wine from the bottle we’re sharing this evening (Leonesse 2009, Temecula Valley), I peeked at the label and it’s 16%. Yes. SIXTEEN.

So the Carlsbad Marathon is this Sunday. We’ve been taunted with forecasted rain, which I decided I would not believe until the day before and, lo and behold, no more rain forecasted for Sunday. Instead we will be freezing our asses off (San Diego style) with low 40s. I’ll take it. I’ll take anything on half a bottle of 16% Zin, but that’s besides the point.

Anyway, so this is the longest stretch in a while where I haven’t raced a distance longer than a half marathon. Last marathon was September 29th. Last 50K (which I honest don’t consider really “racing” because I don’t approach trail races in that mindset) was October 29th. I had a bit of a lapse in December where I fell off the wagon and dragged my ass back on it, Nicole doing the same, and we squeezed in 18 and a 20 miles.Then I surprised the shit out of myself and ran a 1:41:02 half (though, really, I think I was due there based on my 5K and 10K PRs), so I’m a bag of question marks about Sunday,

But I have to say I don’t have the taper crazies. So much so that I’ve had to convince myself to do SOMETHING this week. Work has been busy. Part of me is loving that I’m – to put it in the most mundanely cliché way possible – moving up the ladder. But it’s definitely challenging me not to be lazy. I had to go to Phoenix last week for a conference (with about 3 days notice). This week I’ve had meetings up the wazoo and unrealistic expectations about what a team of 4 software developers can actually complete in 3 months.

The icing on the Marathon Cake is that right after I cross the finish line (provided I don’t blow up and DNF – that has never happened for me, but it’s always possible) I have to haul butt home to a pre-packed suitcase, shower, and drive to LAX to Heathrow for a business trip to our UK office (I’ve never been so that part is cool, but it’s not necessarily the circumstances I’d like to visit the UK under). Thankfully, Husband is driving us (he decided he is coming with me, so at least I’m not by myself – though he will have to keep himself occupied through Thursday in Cambridge while I’m working). Work has certainly turned the screw up a couple notches this month.

So yeah. Nicole and I will be pounding the pavement Sunday. This is the first time in nearly 10 years (last time March 2003) that I’m planning to run a marathon with someone (well, planning as much as one can plan because races are not predictable – we may not have the same race day performance but we’re sticking together as long as it makes sense). I’m looking forward to not being alone for 26 miles and hoping that we both have good races and can push each other through to the finish!

Yes, This is Predictable

2013-01-12T16:27:00.001-08:00

I haven’t written anything in nearly 3 months, but, obviously, I feel the need to post the day I destroy my half marathon PR (1:43:56 in December 2011, and 1:41:38 with downhill assist at ~~Faketana~~ Fontana).

So yeah, I’ve been running. And working. And knitting. And remodeling our bathroom (still in progress – we contract out most of the work this time). Though I’ll bet it might have felt awesome to have just been doing nothing for 3 months.But I’d probably be bored out of my skull.

Anyway. I am not one for resolutions. I have written this at least once before. Possibly twice. I just see no significance in starting something just because it’s January 1st. If I want to start something I’ll do it right away. Waiting until the January 1st implies you don’t REALLY want to do and you have to bribe yourself with some kind of deadline.

This is totally turning into a tangent.

So the running. Shin is still wonky. No surprise there. But it’s not really getting any worse and it doesn’t really hurt unless I do too much fast running. Which I am very good at avoiding! Don’t have to twist my arm to convince me not to do tempos or intervals. And, frankly, it seems to be working just fine for me, as far as my race paces.

At the end of October, I ran the Lake Hodges 50K. And because I have awesome luck with trail race weather, the second half of the race the temperatures climbed over 80 hitting 85-90 by the time I finished. It was 100% a death march from mile 26 to 31. I slid from a sub 10:00 pace (including aid station stops) to a walk-run 12:00 or more pace. Managed to finish 5:45 something. I forget the exact time. What I will never forget is mile 1. It was in the 40s that morning so my feet were frozen. Somehow, I chose the wrong foot placement going down a rocky hill and wiped out in a fairly dramatic fashion. I had a 6 inch scratch on my shoulder/back and a huge raspberry and bruise on my outer hip. I got cleaned up a bit at the first aid station but 3 months later I still have lingering discoloration on my hip and some bumps under the skin. And a scar on my shoulder/back. But I finished! While feeling like a newbie trail-running dumbass. Bah.

Two weeks later I ran Silver Strand Half. Finished 1:44 and lots of change. It was alright. The last 3 miles I had no desire to push it for a couple second PR, so I just said “fuck it” and kept the same pace.

On Turkey Day, I FINALLY broke 22 in the 5K at the Oceanside Turkey Trot. Seriously. Finally. I had been chasing that mark for at least a year. I really didn’t expect it since I have been doing zero speed work. Zero point zero. 21:46, a few second shy of a sub-7 overall pace.

I intended to run the Tucson Marathon on 12/9 (I was registered, so, I had to eat that entry fee). My hormones were seriously out of control that week and my shin had been hurting a bit. I felt like driving our asses 7 hours to Tucson, burdening my parents with watching the dogs, all for what likely would have been a half-assed failed attempt to PR/BQ (it’s a downhill course, so it was entirely conceivable I could drop 7 minutes by virtue of 2000 ft of elevation drop – if I was in the right mindset) was a bad idea. It was confirmed to be a good decision when Aunt Flo showed up 2 days early, on race morning. That would have been fun.

I ran Borrego Springs Half on the 15th where coming in second female overall (tiny-ass race) got me nothing. Only 1st place got something and what was more annoying is the first place female’s time was only 1:44. I didn’t have a great race that day finishing 1:46, but every race can’t be good. I did my best with it – at least I had a negative split.

Operation Jack on the 26th – I decided I was not going to attempt any PR and cruise through that one (first mile was 8:43) but I ended up picking it up more as I went along and then got bitch-slapped by the wind in the last 3 miles. Finished 1:45.

Then Nicole and I resolved to get our asses in gear in order to survive Carlsbad on January 27th. Both of us had kind of fallen off the long run wagon and we had barely enough time to ramp back up to 20 with a 3 week taper. 18 miles the last weekend in 2012, then 20 miles the first weekend of 2013. They went surprising well! The bummer for me is that I am supposed to be flying out to the UK the evening of the 26th. At least the rest of my coworkers are leaving that night. I will have to fly out of LAX the same day as the marathon and miss the first day of our meetings. I feel kinda guilty but dammit! I want to run Carlsbad. It’s my favorite race ever and they didn’t set the date for the trip until this week. I hope running a marathon helps me sleep on an 11-hour red-eye.

And finally. This morning.

At the Southern California Half Marathon, I pulled a rabbit out of hat. Or my ass. Sames.

By San Diego standards, it’s been cold. It was 28 this morning at 6am when I left. When I got to Irvine at 7am, it was 37. But I think it works for me (can’t take the New England out of me). I didn’t know how I was going to run. I figured another 1:44-1:45 and I was cool with that (I actually told myself that at the start line). The course is mostly flat – there are some ups and downs here and there but nothing drastic. Starts and finishes in the same place, so, net change of zero. Pretty boring with lots of turns and loops.

I decided to exercise my propensity for screwing up my Garmin and hit the start button TWICE, when I didn’t see “timer started” pop up. Apparently I turned it on and immediately off. Around a half mile in or so, I realized my mistake and started it. Most of the race I had an idea of the pace I was running but I was not really sure where I stood on finish time.

I took advantage of down hills, clocking 7:30’s. Had 7:40-50’s on the uphill miles. Around mile 8, I realized that I had a good chance to PR. There were a few race clocks at mile markers, and quick calculations left me sort of perplexed. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing, and I was also afraid that IF I believed it, I would sabotage myself.

So I kept trucking, resolving to just try to keep a steady pace. It never felt really bad. It got harder but not crazy uncomfortable. When I turned the corner to the finish the clock read 1:40:xx. My prior calculations were confirmed but I was still not really believing what I was seeing. I tried to kick with whatever I had left. I think I had more left in that final stretch, but to be honest, I was just so damn happy to be massively PR’ing. I really was not clear where exactly my finish time would be because of my Garmin stupidity.

I asked another runner I had leapfrogged with at the end the time she had (I finished a couple steps behind her). She told me 1:41:09. Sweet! Walked around a bit and drove home. Checked out the official results this afternoon… 1:41:02. WTF!? Had I known I was flirting with 1:40’s I would have busted my ass a little harder. But then again – had I been fully aware of what I was doing over the 13 miles, well, I might have added another 1:45 to my pile of recent half marathon results.

So there you have it. A long-winded likely boring recap of my running adventures since October. Now I have to go pee and hydrate some more. Company holiday party tonight!

I Am No Longer Driving a Rickety 11-Year-Old Hyundai Accent

2012-10-25T17:56:00.001-07:00

My brain is completely fried from work today and I can’t leave yet as I’m waiting out time till a spin class. So! Thirty minutes to kill = get off my lazy mental ass and write a blog post.

In case you are wondering about the car situation, I think we’re in the “insurance companies now duke it out for the fault” phase and I will lose my shit if it isn’t deemed 100% the other party’s fault. My car was totaled (~16K damage), and I got back more than I was expecting. The day after I got information that it was a total loss (Saturday), we were test driving, and the following day (Sunday) I had bought a car.

A black 2013 VW Sportwagen TDI in manual (because I heart stick shifts like Snooki hearts pickles). There were only two manual transmission TDI Sportwagens available in all of southern California! And one wasn’t arriving for a couple weeks while the other was waiting at the port, scheduled to arrive the next day. So I think I was lucky to get one. It’s not necessarily the color I would have picked, and additionally, it has upgrades I would never choose to get ever (like navigation), and the sun-roof I didn’t need either. But, dammit, I wanted my 3-pedal, stick shift! Give me a Clutch or give me Death! Ok, that is extreme, but you get what I’m saying.

And if you are also a stick-shift aficionado, good luck in your next car hunt. Apparently, stick shift is like trying to buy a hot pink Toyota Camry.

The dorky part is that it’s the same model car that my husband drives. Yes. We both have TDI Sportwagens. His is a 2009 automatic, though. And at least it’s gray and mine is black. And, I am routinely getting 44-48 mpg on my 34 mile commute (10 miles of which are city driving). Nearly as good as Prius and has way more pick up than a hybrid. Gotta love German engineering.

But all is not 100% well, driving-wise for me. I am super-paranoid that I’m going to get wacked again. I am hyperaware of drivers behind me that appear to be driving too fast, or when I am slowing down in traffic on the freeway, I feel my heart rate jump up. You just have no control over what people do behind you. It’s scary. I hope it goes away soon because it’s a pretty unpleasant experience to be continually worried about getting rear-ended.

At This Point, Who Gives a Flying Ferk?

2012-10-18T07:38:00.001-07:00

Yeah, about that Wineglass Marathon thing. So, I’ll keep it short-ish.

Shin problem was a non-issue.
The race is awesome – I highly recommend it. Well run, plenty of porta-johns, excellent swag, great race support, small (under 2000 people in the marathon), ridiculous food spread at the end, free showers at the Y for runners, easy course. I will do it again, for sure.
While 5 weeks of taper from a 20 miler seemed to work ok for Carlsbad, 8 weeks? Not so much. And only 18 miles with a two week taper? Also not sufficient. And I don’t think the 6 days off did anything for the shin.
So, even though miles 21-26 were awful thanks to point #2, I learned that I can, for sure, run an 3:40 with proper training.

The first 20 went like this – I crossed the half way point around 1:50:xx:

8:28, 8:18, 8:29, 8:27, 8:30, 8:31, 8:12, 8:19, 8:19, 8:19, 8:26, 8:26, 8:27, 8:22, 8:25, 8:34, 8:23, 8:24, 8:26, 8:32.

Around mile 20, I knew that the wall was coming. Not surprisingly, with 18 miles being the most I ran, and only once, this makes complete sense.

From 21-26, I watched my 8:25 pace go down the shitter. My legs were completely fried.

Last 6:

8:40, 9:16, 8:46, 9:33, 10:32 (I was hating life here at mile 25), 9:07, 2:41 (last .35).

I salvaged the PR, just barely. Official chip time 3:46:45.

Once I finished, I was the achiest ever. I thought after RnR New Orleans, it was bad. This was twice as bad. I was scared to sit down for fear I would not be able to get back up. But then, staying upright was hard, so, I was in a catch-22. I hobbled around for like 10 minutes until I found the bag pick up, sat my ass down on a curb and waited for the Husband.

While I am kind of bummed out with the last 6 miles, it wasn’t exactly a surprising outcome. The one takeaway that left me hopeful was that I maintained that 8:25 quite easily. It felt no harder than when I was running the first 20 miles of Carlsbad and New Orleans. I know the wall came because I didn’t have recent long runs under my belt.

Anyway, a while back I registered for Lake Hodges 50K at the end of this month. Let’s hope this 90+ degree heat wave doesn’t come back next week. And at least I got 26.2 miles in 4 weeks before, and 15 miles this past Sunday, so I am reasonably prepared – probably more so than for Wineglass!

I Am Car-less.

2012-10-05T09:05:00.000-07:00

Are you here expecting my Wineglass Marathon recap? Pardon the interruption but I have more pressing ridiculousness to brain dump on the blog. Like how I don't have a car anymore.

Oh, and how I am really lucky I am not hurt or dead.

Yesterday was my first day back at work from our little vacation/romp around the northeast. I left at my usual time, around 6:15pm. Got on the 5 freeway, northbound. Per usual. Traffic was moving well, however, I know that this freeway is fairly unpredictable from 4-7pm, so, I am always on guard. I had maybe gotten 8 miles from work? I was driving in the fast lane (apparently it is called the "number 1" lane) behind someone who works at my company - I know this because she has an interesting vanity plate that I see in the parking lot nearly every day. No idea who she is. I would guess traffic was moving around 70 mph, give or take 5. We crested the hill before the Via de la Valle exit and I see my lane is coming to a stop ahead.

I hit my brakes pretty hard, but nothing extreme. It was not a majorly difficult to come to a stop. But at that point, I was a sitting duck. I looked in my rearview, a white van was coming up fast. Moves into the carpool lane to avoid us. Next, a silver van of some sort was coming up quickly. Unfortunately, this person, either panicked, wasn't paying attention, or was driving way too fast to stop in time. Or all of the above.

It was like slow motion. You know? Even though it probably happened over the span of like 5 seconds. I was sitting there with my hands on the wheel, clutch pedal engaged, foot on the brake, bracing to get wacked hard. Watching this car come at me from my rearview. I could not move, seeing as I was at a complete stop. And the other lanes were moving, so, I had no options.

Let me just say I was damn lucky yesterday. She (I found out it was a "she" later, from the police officer) managed to swerve enough to hit rear-side of my car, rather than getting completely rear-ended. Side airbags deployed, and my seat side air bag deployed, too. It was surreal. I watched the car continue down the carpool lane and though "The aren't going to stop." She was so far up head when she finally did, I could barely make out what the vehicle looked like. All I could think of was "Great, so now I also have a hit and run situation." Oh, and it was CSA pick up day, so, naturally, I was concerned about my $26 box of organic vegetables sitting in the trunk. I swear, the shit that goes through your mind in these situations.

As I'm sitting there in WTF mode, this lady, who had the best of intentions, tries to convince me through my open passenger side window that I should hop in her car and get out of there. Even in my very shaken state, this seemed like a dumb idea. I told her I was going to call 911. And can you believe I had people honking at me? I tried to move the car - it started, but when I pressed the gas it didn't move. Yet, people are assholes and honk. Awesome, right?

Anyway.

The CHP? They came in a New York Minute. However, I believe this is because they were already enroute to another accident up ahead at the exit. I think this is also why my lane was stopped. CHP though? They are on point. One of the cruisers backed up in the carpool lane, another came up shortly after. Meanwhile, fire engines had zoomed by me for the other accident. Here I am, peeking around my side airbags (the smell when they deploy? Gross), the officer comes up, asks if I'm alright (I tell him that I think so), and he takes my license and insurance. He has the other person's as well.

They then have me attempt to drag my car over to the left. I start it and press more aggressively on the gas, it actually hobbles over. A sit there a few more minutes, texting my husband about my situation. Few minutes pass, the officer comes up and asks me to try to move my car all the way over across lanes. They will left the back if they have to. I start it, turn hard, and press the gas hard. As I'm slowly dragging my poor car over, I see that all traffic on the 5 is stopped in a traffic break. This is all happening over like 5-10 minutes, that's how fast these guys work. I drag my car over to the right shoulder, and traffic starts going again, and the tow truck is already there.

Did I mention I am super impressed with the CHP? Holy crap. Tax dollars in action right there.

Finally, I crawl out of the passenger side and look at my car; while it wasn't as bad as I though it would be - probably because the Mazda3 is a very solid car, thank God I wasn't in some tiny-ass tinfoil economy car - it didn't look good. The officer says airbags are at like $2K to repair. The doors are completely done/buckled. He says it looks like my rear axle is broken based on the way the tire is dented in (makes sense because even with a complete flat, it wouldn't take that much gas pedal to move across 4 lanes).

Oh, and also? I paid off the car about 3 months ago. So there's that. It had only 29K miles on it. 2011, still under warranty. Now, I don't want to sound whiny, because I am freaking relieved that I didn't die or get seriously hurt, but this kind of sucks. The trade in value is like $13.5K. I can't get the same car, used, for that amount of money.

And then I got to ride in the front seat of a cruiser. That was pretty cool. He dropped me off at a local coffee shop to wait for my husband to come get my sorry ass, 25 miles from home. During the 5 minute ride off the freeway, he said that apparently another unit responding to the original crash, saw the whole thing happen. And they also were concerned the other person was not going to stop and it would be a hit and run (I think that's why they went to her car first rather than me). I think that was highly possible, except she probably figured out there were a bunch of CHP everywhere, and that would be a pretty dumb idea.

I have no idea what happens next. I've filed my claim. I have two reps that I can call. But I have no clue how long this kind of stuff takes. Do I bug them about it? It's clearly not my fault - but I am hoping that I don't have to wait for the two insurance companies to duke it out. And I really hope they don't try to fix my car. Anyone have experience dealing with this crap? In my 17 years of driving, I have never been in an accident. I suppose it was bound to happen.

Wineglass Marathon in 8 Days...

2012-09-22T16:37:00.000-07:00

Sometime in July, I registered for the Wineglass Marathon in New York. I had been planning to go back East to see my grandparents and while Corning, NY is more than 6 hours from my hometown, it's only about 3.5 hours from my husband's hometown. And I have a real soft spot for roadtripping. Even if it involves some initial flying. I can already see myself being retired with an RV. So long as by the time I'm retired, we've improved fuel efficiency because I cringe at the thought of less than 20 MPG.

Anyway, it's a flat course. 269 feet of climbing (whoop dee do, I do more than that on my usual 4 mile route from my house) and 469 feet if descent. So, 200 feet of loss over 26 miles. Not sure you can find an easier course (well, Ojai 2 Ocean or St. George might be easier, if you're quads are up for some pounding).

Then I worked myself too hard into this shin problem which I have self-diagnosed as some kind of compartment-syndrome type thing. Especially considering when I wore flats last week on an off-running day my shin muscles (both legs) were ridiculously angry. The next day I ran 6 miles and wore heels to work (which I haven't done in months) and my shin muscles were happy/unstressed.

The last 20+ run I did was 26.2 on 8/4. Yeah. We're talking 8 weeks from race day. I took 6 days off at the end of August at the end of a 50K taper which left me with only 5 weeks to race day to attempt to ramp back up as close to 20 miles as I could safely get. I was left with the choice of ramping up too fast (bad idea with a questionable shin), compromising to less then 20, and/or taking a shorter taper. I compromised with 18 miles and a 2 week taper.

The last month has looked like this:

Nice contrast from July to August, right? Sigh. 50 flipping miles. The plan was to be around 160 again but, hey, I had a nice run of it. I did 18 last weekend with Nicole starting before the sun rose at 5:45am, completing it at 9:00 pace (nearly on the dot - a fraction of a second under). And then into taper. 6 miles twice last week and 10 miles this morning @ 8:47 pace. My plan is to do 4-5 on Monday, and then 4 on Wednesday. Then we leave for Pennsylvania (well, we land at Reagan and drive into po-dunk central PA).

I honestly don't know what to expect. I have dropped a pound or two with all the spinning - I think it's actually been harder/tougher in some ways than running. I have only been taking 1-2 days off. But I just don't know if substituting cycle for running 2-3 days a week is enough to allow me to run well. I kind of don't think so, but, really, I have no idea. I haven't run a marathon on such low mileage in a long time (specifically June 2003 at SD RnR and it didn't go well. PW for that one at 4:30:15).

I know I'm going to have fun because even at SD RnR when I was hurting, I still enjoyed it. The marathon experience is really fun for me. It's like it still feels "new" -- like a big accomplishment even though I've done it 6 times before. But the fact that the course is a PR course and I'm not in the shape I'd like to be, just seems like a wasted opportunity. I've done the best I could with the situation, and my leg is feeling pretty good, so, I think I should consider it a successful salvage of what could have been another DNF.

So How’s The Shin…

2012-09-09T13:55:00.001-07:00

Well, I’m fairly certain now it’s is muscular rather than an sfx, otherwise, running 16 miles without pain would probably not be doable. However it’s still a cranky asshole the 24 hours following a run, making it difficult to run two days in a row without paranoia that I’ll injure myself for real. Likely, I can run two days in a row without pain, but I don’t like the idea of starting a run if I can push the spot on my shin and it’s tender. So it’s left me in a situation where I’m running 3 days a week.

I took 6 full days off at the end of August. I am now 2 weeks post run-break and last week looked like this:

Monday (Labor Day): Worst spin class in the history of the world. We essentially got yelled at us for an hour (not exaggerating, another woman moved to the bike next to me about 30 minutes in trying to get away from the loudness) and told to add tension without any real direction, instruction, or explanation. I basically ignored her. At the end, she gave us some spiel about “you get what you put into it” in a condescending manner (which, not to be too snarky, but it’s not like she was Bob Harper, in super fit shape doling out a scolding). I wanted to tell her that I had run 12 miles the day before so I was going to put in the effort I felt was appropriate for me. Instead I just left and decided to never go to her class again.

Tuesday: Hottest spin class in the history of the world. Apparently the Kearney Mesa LA Fitness does not have good AC going on in their cycle room. But the teacher was excellent (I got my ass kicked pretty well with good instruction and appropriate periods of rest in between songs). And the bikes were also not from 1990 like my regular location.

Wednesday: 8 hot miles after work around Lake Miramar in my Mizuno Elixirs.

Thursday: 5:30am spin class on old ass bikes (I can’t wait for them to upgrade that location)

Friday: 8.3 miles in the neighborhood in my Brooks Launches. Loving these shoes and extremely bent that Brooks is discontinuing them.

Saturday: Yoga at Lululemon with Nicole wherein I also bought a pair of Speed Shorts (yes, I can’t believe I did that either. $54 for shorts. The fit is great, though).

Sunday: 16 miles with Nicole (who did 20+ total with hills from her house. Badass) in roughly 2:26 (haven’t downloaded the Garmin data). It was toasty out there. We stopped twice to refill at fountains after draining 30 ounces from our belts. I think I went through 50-60 ounces for 16 miles. I have since peed only twice and it’s 3+ hours since I finished. Sweaty and hot. It had better not be this sweaty and hot for Wineglass.

Forgot to mention that little tidbit – that I’m running marathon in 3 weeks. So, normally, I would probably not be running 16 miles if I was trying to completely rehab my leg, however, I have a marathon scheduled. It’s definitely NOT going to be a PR effort. However, it’s back East and the plan is to visit my husband’s granny in PA and then drive on over the MA to visit my grandparents. And the race sounds like fun one, so I don’t want to miss it. So, it’ll just be an “eh” effort marathon. Whatever. I will do 18-ish next weekend with a two week taper and that will have to do.

The 16 miles today felt totally fine. Granted, I was starting to feel pretty pooped towards the end but I think the weather had partly to do with that. It definitely is not ideal to be only running 3 times a week; but it’s keeping my leg happy, and cycle class has proven, again, to be an awesome alternative.

Because I’m an Idiot

2012-08-25T08:18:00.001-07:00

It's no longer feeling like Satan's Armpit in Southern California and I should be thrilled that it happed for Bulldog 50K weekend, except as I type this, the race is currently underway. My first damn DNS and while it was the right choice, I am really pissed that I did all that heat training and then the weather got all nice. I think I probably would have beaten my Harding Hustle time.

So, why the DNS? Well, I am like every other running asshole out there that has a good week and decides to push it too hard. Well, that was also more than 3 weeks ago, after my soapbox spiel about running easy (written in the throes of knowing what happens when I don’t). The week went something like this:

7/23, Sunday: Long 16, in hot weather but felt pretty damn good.
7/24: Monday, Recovery 2.5 with a friend
7/25: Tuesday, 8 miles, SDTC fartlek: 1000m + hill stride, in Kinvaras
7/26: Wednesday: 5 easy
7/26: Thursday: 7 mile, tempo, in Brooks Cadence
7/27: Friday: 6 easy
7/28: Saturday: rest (gee, really?)
7/29: Sunday: 5K race (22:01, PR, in Kinvaras), then proceeded to run 12.5 more easy (in DS trainer) to make it a long run. I had told myself during the race that if I broke 22 I would let myself skip the extra miles. Dumbass should have skipped it anyway. 22:01 is close enough.

This was a stupid week. Truly idiotic. I mean, I felt really good that week so I threw my better judgment to the wind. There are 4 hard workouts in there over the span of 8 days (long run, fartlek, tempo, and race PLUS long). Additionally, I ran 3 days in Kinvara or Cadence - low heel-to-toe drop shoes. I have done this kind of week before without problems but I think that was dumb luck (and not in minimalist shoes). The week after the 5K I had the tightest and sorest calves on planet Earth. What's interesting is that hard efforts in the Kinvara or Cadence are what end up messing up my calves. Speed. The faster I run in those shoes the more likely I am to have a mess on my hands.

Anyway, so, yeah. I stretched and rolled like crazy. It improved and I even got that long training run (26 miles) in without any problems. I felt like I was on the mend... then I wore the Brooks Cadence (because I had only sworn off the Kinvara at this point) to SDTC fartlek night two weeks ago. Ran less than 5 miles and none were really fast (because it was 87 degrees out at 6pm so we were sweating our asses off), but that seemed to reignite the problem. I found a painful spot (about the size of my thumb) on my outer shin that if I pressed it, hurt, so the hypochondriac in me was like "Ack!!! Stress fracture!" But then, I can run and hop with no pain, so, seems kind of unlikely. Regardless, my left leg is messed up so running 31+ hilly miles on it seemed like a really dumb idea. I didn't want to go all the way up to Malibu, stay in a hotel, inconvenience my parents to watch the dogs, all to have a very good chance of a DNF and then further injure myself.

Having not taken more than 2 days off running since my RUN ALL THE THINGS week, I figured I should give a no-running-week a whirl. So, I haven't run since Wednesday (aside from having to dart around a bit for dodgeball playoffs at work, which, honestly, didn't help my shin). I went to a cycle class yesterday and then hit up the rower and elliptical. This morning? Zero shin pain. I can press hard on the spot and no pain. However, my achilles and soleus? Tight and cranky. I think I have discovered my problem – tight calf muscles? Can causes stressed out tibialis anterior. Stressed tibialis anterior? Shin pain. And it isn’t the first time I have an overworked shin muscle – last time it was in 2005 on my right leg when I was stuck running crazy hills in my neighborhood in Lake Elsinore (at the time, and may still be the case, there were few options in that area with proper sidewalks).

Honestly, I am (a) not running a stupid week like that again, and (b) 100% sworn off low-heel-toe drop shoes. Regular trainers with 9-12mm drop were working fine for me - I have had relatively injury free running over the last 19 years (started running sophomore year of high school). I guess I didn't see trying out the latest trend as messing with what was working (i.e. if it ain't broke, don't fix it) but that's the danger with this stuff. Sometimes you don't realize you are in fact, making a significant change by running in a certain shoe ESPECIALLY if you are a shoe rotater like myself. I have run in lots of different brands and models with little issue, so I didn't immediately realize that the heel-to-toe drop difference is non-trivial.

I am rolling, stretching, compressing, icing, and even heat compresses. I hope this week off does the trick.

A Sure Way To Get Injured: Never Run Junk Miles

2012-08-21T12:42:00.001-07:00

I have been seeing the term "junk miles” thrown around lately, clearly with the connotation of being bad because it's preceded by the word "junk". Reading into the context it's used, the writers are referring to slower, easy miles.

When did easy miles because suddenly something you must avoid? Aside, from Run Less, Run Faster, where did this shit come from?

Easy miles are the foundation and base of any distance (half/full marathon) training program. Stocking your training week with 3 to 4 fast/hard workouts only to follow them with some recovery miles and doing no easy miles is a great way to get injured. Sure, the elites might have 3+ hard workouts per week, including tempos, trackwork, fartleks, two-a-days, etc, but they have built up to that their whole lives. And they're elites! Genetically gifted runners!

Most training plans out there, do not advocate more than 1, maybe 2, tempo/speedwork days per week. The long run? Guess what… that is a hard workout. When you run 15+ miles, that is a hard run that requires a rest day or a recovery/easy run after. Long easy runs are not junk miles. Mid week easy run? Not junk miles. They are foundational/base mileage keeping you from getting injured during your hard workout days. Personally, when I do more than one speedwork day a week, I find myself riding a fine line between just barely healthy and injured. With a 50-50 chance of finding myself on either side.

Sure, I have not backed up these statements with any scientific studies or research links. They are anecdotal – my own empirical findings. However, I ran all 3 seasons of track in high school and, while I was always a middle-to-back-of-the-pack runner, our teams were consistently competing on the state and regional level (by regional, I mean all of New England). Our coaches weren't dumbasses. Our XC and middle/long distance track coach is now a head track coach at a university (and while not a huge school, it’s not a podunk super-small one, either). We ran easy miles ALL THE TIME. We had maybe two hard workouts a week. One on the track, one tempo or fartlek. If there was a meet that week, then maybe just one.

Calling easy miles "junk miles" is sending the wrong message, especially to newer runners out there. Wanna keep injuries at bay? Make easy miles the bulk of your training volume.

Stairway to Heaven 15K: Thank God I Wasn't Actually Racing

2012-08-18T18:01:00.001-07:00

With Bulldog 50K coming up on the 25th, and the Vista Half Marathon originally scheduled for 8/11 postponed until freaking 2013 (so annoying), it opened up the weekend for a trail race I had been eyeing. Dirt Devil Racing's Stairway to Heaven 15K.

Now, when I registered, we weren't in the thick of a heat wave, so, I figured it would be hot since it's August but manageable, and that would be good Bulldog training. The past two weeks here in So Cal have been fairly miserable. It's been close to 90 and the humidity… it's like East Coast style shit. I compared Thursday, the humidity in Oceanside and the humidity where I grew up in coastal Massachusetts. Same. Exactly the same at 62%. In the morning here it is over 80%. So it's pretty uncomfortable. It's downright awful if you've been babied by Southern California for many years (going on 12 years for me). So it didn't really make for good race conditions.

This run is held at Mission Trails Park in Santee, which is a bit inland (if you’re familiar with San Diego County, it’s also known as “Santucky”). Pretty close to “The Big Box” (El Cajon). And it's generally a bit hotter there. I parked around 6:10am and it was already 75 degrees.

Within about 10 minutes, I find out there was a porta-potty snafu wherein the contracted company dropped them off at the opposite end of the park. Awesome! So there was one flushable toilet, and one extremely disgusting porta for like 400 people. I lucked out and managed to get in the line of the flushable one fairly early on. Due to the heat – the race director could not delay the start of wave 1 longer than 15 minutes (smart). So, some folks may not have made the first wave or perhaps started the race having to "go".

All the pictures, I have shamelessly lifted from the Bonita Roadrunners who were an awesome group of folks. Part of me wishes we lived down in south county, because I’d totally join their running club. The person taking the photos must have been close behind me because I am in two of the pics. The blue tank, hat, and orange shorts.

Seeing as it was toasty, already, with not a cloud in the sky, I knew I was taking this race slow. Like a trail training run. The race directors had thrown down the gauntlet of "break two hours, qualify for entry into the 2013 Dirt Devil Invitational Marathon." Prior to the heat-wave, achieving this seemed like a non-issue. At the start line, I wasn't so sure anymore. At 7:15am we took off. Somewhere in mile 1, my asshole Garmin decided it didn't need the satellite connection anymore and just shut itself off. I looked down probably around .8 miles in and it was just showing me the current time (i.e. 7:21am or something). So I had to wait for it to find the satellite. Again (apparently, it only tracked .11 miles before losing it). Reset, and start again. So I was somewhat at a loss for most of the race as to how much I had left to run or my elapsed time.

Within a few miles, we hit the first ridiculous hill at the power lines. No one was running. No one. Seriously, it was hard walking up that hill. Some people just straight up stopped and rested. WTF. Finally we get to the top and we can actually run. I remember very little of the sequence of events during this race, other than:

1. Garmin loses signal. Cursing.
2. Power lines hill
3. Aid station where I put ice in my hat and sports bra
4. Stopping to walk for a bit and suddenly finding myself in the fetal position playing in the leaves*

*First trail running spill for me. And man, did I feel stupid. I was thinking to myself: “Let me just take a little walk here. It’s hot, I’ll take a little breather” and suddenly it was Stop-Drop-And-Roll. Luckily, I had very very minor scratches (almost none) and no one was directly behind me so I didn’t create a pile up.

5. Thousand Steps or Stairway to Heaven or Are You Seriously Telling Me We’re Climbing Up There?

Now, the race description mentioned that parts were more like a hike than a run and I remember thinking “yeah, ok, whatever.” Um, when the winning female is slower than a 10 minute mile for 15K, you know this shit was ridiculous. We hit the first rail road tie (i.e. “step”) and someone mentions they can see where we are going. One of the chicks curses. I keep looking up and around but I can’t see what they are talking about. About half way up (everyone is walking, btw), I finally see the trail of people.

See the trail way back at the far end of the pic? We came from there. See how tiny the people are in the back?

We finally get close to the top and in classic Dirt Devil Racing style, this crazy chick was at the top, cheering for us:

Shortly after we meet the angel, the girl behind me loses her breakfast (it was a tough climb in 80+ degrees).

We had to climb over rocks (I had to use both hands to pull myself up and over), like we were bouldering or something. This is not running.

With no idea how much time had elapsed and having to climb this insanity, I was thinking that the sub-2 hours might not happen. The final few miles included running down the power lines hill which was kind of scary, but I threw caution to the wind and flew down it. It felt better to just run down the hill in a barely controlled manner than waste a ton of energy trying to slow myself down. My quads weren’t happy with me the rest of the week, but whatever.

At the second-to-last aid station, they were already short on water and we were the first third of the runners. Not ideal. I took a little bit for my bottle (after I was almost told I couldn’t, so, I was really taking the bare minimum I needed) and took off. The last half mile, I sort of didn’t believe we were close to the finish based on their last race that was well over the supposed 13.1 miles. So I kind of trotted it in until I could actually see the finish line. I crossed and then asked some dude what time he had finished so I could try to figure out mine (there was no running clock displayed). It turned out I finished 1:58:52. So at least I hit that 2 hour mark. Considering the winning female was 1:37 (and these races generally attract some pretty fast runners), I didn’t push it hard, it was like 85+ degrees by the time I finished, and we climbed two insane hills, I am fine with this. And hopefully this will be good heat and terrain training for next weekend!

Even with the portajohn problem, the heat, and the water nearly running out, it was a good race. This is my second event with them, and while both had issues, there is something fun and endearing about these race organizers. They put on a fun race, it’s reasonably priced, good shwag, and just an all around good time. Definitely recommend as long as you are cool with running slow and getting your ass beat by the trails.

Saucony Kinvara 2: My Legs Don't Buy The Hype

2012-08-10T08:41:00.001-07:00

I spent many months fighting the hype: "OMG the Kinvaras are the best shoe everrrrrr!"

I tend to be very skeptical of any product with excessive enthusiasm surrounding it. In January of this year, my second pair of Ravennas (first edition) were coming due for replacement so I hit up Road Runner Sports. They did not have the Ravenna 2 in my size but the salesperson brought out several models to try - the Asics Neo, Brooks Launch (which ended up being too big and they didn't have the smaller size), Saucony Guide, and... the Saucony Kinvara 2.

I wanted to not like the Kinvaras. Really. I wanted my cynicism confirmed. But on the treadmill, they felt pretty good. Yet, I didn't get them. Finally about a month later, I found a good deal on them (less than $70) so I picked them up. They have a 4mm heel-to-toe drop so, they are on the "minimalist" end of shoes. And super light at 6.6 ounces. Like every internet source suggested with low heel-to-toe drop shoes, I eased into them. Starting with 3 miles, then 4, up to 6 miles, only using them once a week. Truly, I did not jump into the minimalist shoe thing so, I really cannot explain why with 123 miles on the shoe, they finally decided to screw me over.

Things started getting funny with these shoes about a month ago (I had nearly 100 miles on them at that point). I ran a 5K on the track (McMahon Masters Track Meet in San Marcos). The next day my calves were crazy tight and sore. I continued using them once a week for my one speed workout. Then two weeks ago, I ran the San Diego Blood Bank 5K in them (wherein I again narrowly missed breaking 22, coming in 22:01. No chip-timing, and Garmin says 3.14, so, yeah, I know I ran sub 22, but it isn't official). I then ran an easy 12 miles in my Asics DS Trainer around the harbor.

My calves and Achilles were so angry with me. My left shin was also pissed off because my tibialis anterior muscle was doing all kinds of extra work due to my calves being all messed up. I spent all last week, stretching, icing, rolling, sticking, stretching, icing, compressing with ace bandages (because socks weren't tight enough). Skipped a longer mid-week run. It's still not 100%. But I have only run in my standard trainers with 10mm drops.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, I officially don't buy the hype. This minimalist trend is not for everyone. Is the Kinvara a good shoe? Well, I liked it for a while. But really feel like I am not built for this shoe. And I know it isn't because I "jumped" into it - I eased into it. And I know it's not a matter of not having strong feet, because I do (I have excellent single-leg balance, and easily pass the "pick up a pencil with your toes" test. And I don't over-pronate much on either leg).

I think there are a number of things at play: (1) it seems like the shoe breaks down quickly thus why I started having issues around 100 miles, (2) it's quite a "soft" shoe so, that can aggravate muscles and tendons for certain people (which, apparently, might be me). I have read forum posts of people wearing these shoes for 500+ miles! I would venture to say these people are either very light runners and/or have a very efficient stride. I don't think the average run-of-the-mill runner fits this profile. I'd be curious to hear from any other Kinvara owners out there on what they think of the shoe.

For me? They are permanently in retirement. I am not chancing it again with them and risk an Achilles injury (or worse, tibial stress fracture from an overworked anterior tibilalis muscle).

When You REALLY Don't Want to Run 26 Miles Alone

2012-08-06T08:19:00.001-07:00

While it was completely painful the last 6 miles of the Harding Hustle in the heat and the relentless downhill, I had a great time. Trail races, especially long ones, to me feel like an adventure. The pressure was of a different kind - more like "will I make it" rather than "how fast will I do it and if I don't run it fast I will be all bummed out for several days." That part of road racing is getting old for me.

With few options in August/September for 50K events, it was either Endure the Bear in Big Bear Lake (i.e. at 8000+ feet elevation) or Bulldog 50K in Malibu Creek State Park. They both sound hard, but running trails and hills for 31+ miles at 8000 feet seemed more painful than running 50K in hot conditions. So Bulldog 50K on 8/25 it was.

This meant I had to get one long training run in. Long as in 24+ miles.

I really had no desire to do this alone again (I did 24 for Harding Hustle alone and, yes, I managed, but I'd rather not if I don't have to). So I started poking around the local no-frills race options (Rocket Racing and Charlie Alewine Racing). I found the Charlie was putting on two events this weekend that were both closed for registration (since it was only 5 days before). I read his FAQs and he stated if a spot opened up, someone could swap in. So I emailed him, pled my case, and he let me in his Sunday event in Lake Forest, Rock the Path Marathon and Half Marathon.

I really didn't know what to expect, but I knew it was going to be very low key and no frills. And it was. Simple countdown from 10 with the "official clock" being a chronograph watch on Charlie's wrist. Some chalk markings on the ground for the turn-arounds (marathon did 4 out and back loops) and no bibs. One aid station that you passed 8 times. The loops were up and down Aliso Creek bike path along El Toro.

I planned to run easy as this was a training run so anywhere from 9:15 to 10:00 pace would be acceptable to me. The first two loops the weather complied. Overcast and around 70. A super-fast and super-friendly runner was the leader the whole way - apparently she has run a 3:20 before, so, even though she was "out of shape" she still was going to kick our asses out there. I was holding around 9:15-9:20 average pace on those loops. I had my hydration pack filled completely (70 ounces) which weighed a veritable ton on my back. But I didn't want to trek up to the aid station every time, so, I was glad I brought it.

Second two loops it got toasty. I am thinking it was probably 75-80 for the 3rd loop, and probably 80-85 for my 4th. When I left at 12:15pm it was 87 degrees. So I started walking the shaded sections. Seeing as it was a training run, I was not going to kill myself or get heat exhaustion. I ended up going through all 70 ounces of banana Nuun, and then another 10-12 ounces of water when I filled up before completing my last 4 miles. The course came up slightly short so I had to do a bunch of silly loops to get the full distance at the end, but I timed it perfectly, with the Garmin hitting 26.2 as I ran up to the aid station/finish area. Total time 4:16:49.

The other fun thing about these small races is that you have an excellent chance of placing. Sure, you have to also complete with the men (it's top 3 overall) to get a trophy, but the field is much smaller. Speedy lady, Sally, took 1st and I rolled in 25 minutes or so after her. Third place was also a woman. I totally wasn't expecting to get anything, I was just in for a training run, so it was a nice surprise! I hung around for an hour or so, cooling down, and chatting with Charlie and the other runners. Such a fun group - really enjoyed it. Will have to do some more of his races in the future!

Now it's time to taper some for Bulldog. I have one trail race, Sidewinder 15K, next weekend. It looks hard, but I'm excited to get a cool finisher's pint glass. And it'll be a good warm up for the big race in 3 weeks!

Shoes: Brooks Ravenna 3

2012-08-01T21:17:00.001-07:00

Shoes. Let's talk shoes. I have a little secret. And it's somewhat embarrassing because I like to consider myself low maintenance/no frills type of person. Except that I'm currently rotating 5 pairs of running shoes. Actively. And I have another 2 pairs waiting to swap in. All different. I feel like this is very much excessive. But (a) I love a good deal, and (b) running shoes appear to be a serious vice for me like some ladies with handbags.

The Mizuno Mezamashii Project was floating around blogland last month and while I entered a couple giveaways, I decided I would just go enter my name directly with Mizuno and if it happened, great. They only ask for name, zip code, and email, so I'm pretty certain the blog had nothing to do with it. I don't have enough notoriety for any random Mizuno employee to know who I am by name and zip code. Lo and behold, I got an invite. I sent my extra invite to a non-blog runner friend. So that's pair #6. I also have a pair of the soon-to-be-defunct Brooks Launch sitting in my closet waiting to be taken off the bench. Number 7. WTF.

I think, unless you want to be reading for the next 2 hours about all my shoes, I am going to make this a series and do a short right up on each of the pairs.

Let's start with my what was once my go-to-shoe and now is my "can't wait to hit 300 miles and retire you" shoes. Very sad.

Brooks Ravenna 3

I have run in all three versions of the Ravenna. My first pair were the original Ravennas - I picked them up on whim at the Road Runner Sports HQ clearance backroom. They felt light and hugged my foot nicely. I said, what the heck? $70 is a decent deal for new shoes and a current model. I logged 420 miles on them. Got another pair for $50 at RunningWarehouse, put 320 miles on them. Tried on 4 or 5 shoes and still picked the Ravenna 2 and put 320 miles on those. Ran two marathons in them. I liked the 2nd edition even more than the 1st! I have never been so loyal to a specific shoe in my 19 years of running. I was like a damn Ravenna Evangelist which made me a Brooks enthusiast.

Enter the Ravenna 3.

I tried on about 6-7 different shoes at RRS. None felt "awesome" including the Ravenna 3. But with the track record I had with them, I figured it would probably live up to or come close to it's predecessors. It was a safe bet.

They are light for a stability trainer (approximately 9 ounces) and have good cushioning. They also look pretty good too - not flashy, but not boring either. They have a heel-to-toe ratio of about 9mm. Not too high, not minimalist either.

The first few runs, I was convinced I had made the right choice. No blisters or breaking in period. Nice toe-box room, etc. However, the more I wore them, the more I found myself wishing I was wearing the 2s. I wore them for 2 out of 3 of my Ragnar ltra legs and the last run, I got some gnarly blisters under the toenail of the second toe on both feet. If found myself gripping with my toes because my midfoot wasn't hugged by the shoe.

I laced them up differently so I could tighten the arch/midfoot but leave the forefoot loose. This was better - enough to keep my toes from blistering and my midfoot from feeling like it was moving around laterally. But not enough for me to love them.

Interestingly, I tried to leave a 3-star review (i.e. “average”) on the Brooks website, citing my concerns with the shoe updates from the 1st and 2nd model. It was not accepted/published. A month or so later, I went to RRS, left a 3-star review for the Ravenna 3 there and a 4-star review of the Brooks PureCadence. Not surprisingly, the 3-star review was not posted. But the 4-star was. So, take shoe reviews with a grain of salt because they seem to be mostly biased to the 4 and 5 stars (not exactly objective or a good sampling of opinions). I have to wonder who is doing the filtering – seems like it’s possible the shoe companies.

I have 200 miles on the Ravenna 3s as of today – they have some pretty good wear on the forefoot outsole, so, 300 will definitely be the max for me. Honestly, 100 more miles seems like an eternity to cover. Hopefully it goes fast. I definitely will not be buying another pair of these. When the 4 comes out, I'll certainly give them a chance for redemption. But I am actively seeking out a long run replacement shoe (interestingly, the Mizuno Elixirs I just tried this evening felt like a million bucks... but can't call them my new go-to yet...).

Do the Hustle! 2012 Harding Hustle 50K

2012-07-08T17:07:00.001-07:00

It’s the day after the race and while I’m sore, I really expected to have serious trouble walking down the stairs. Not the case – my quads are ok. The stuff that’s sore is my hips and my ankles/feet/lower calves. Not sure why on the former, but for sure I know why my ankles are sore. Miles 9-19 involved traversing lots of loose, rocky, ankle-rolling, curse-word inducing trails

The Husband dropped me off at Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary around 5:30am and drove home to catch more Z’s and hang out with the dogs. It was around 55 degrees which felt great but I knew it was going to be short lived as the sun had not yet risen fully. The 50K had it’s own start at 6am. It was nice to not be completely crowded with runners from the 15 and 30K. The 50K had 56 runners (55 finishers) and only a few of us were running our first ultra (maybe 3-5 hands sheepishly went up when the race director asked). We took off a couple minutes after 6am with little fanfare – in fact most of us didn’t even realize the countdown to the start was happening.

The course begins at Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary up Harding Truck Trail to Maple Springs. Then you do a series of 3 out-and-backs to Modjeska Peak (5384 feet), Santiago Peak (5689 feet, highest point in Orange County), and Modjeska Peak again.

Immediately, I felt like I was running up a wall. Extremely steep.Note the above 7.6% grade for 7 miles. Around me, most people’s breathing was crazy – I was concerned that we had just started and this was already the scene. But I was “in” so, unless I was seriously in trouble of getting hurt/injured, I was going to tough it out. We had a tiny little break in climbing at mile 1.5-ish, but, other than that the first 6-7 miles were billy goat territory. To add to the climb, at that point, I had a full reservoir of banana nuun (70 oz) and various other items packed, so, I was lugging around an extra 5-8 pounds up the mountain.

Miles 1-7: 2938 feet of climbing and a laughable 144 feet of descent.

Mile	Time	Moving Time	Up	Down	Notes
1	13:31.1	13:13	544	0
2	11:23.4	11:07	313	121
3	14:21.7	14:15	487	0
4	14:29.3	14:13	482	0
5	15:10.2	13:27	474	0	Laurel Aid Station, 3450'
6	13:41.5	13:32	367	0
7	12:06.7	12:07	271	23

The first aid station, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time at, according to Garmin, looks like about 90 seconds. Grabbed some boiled potato, some water, and took off. I was, at least, relieved that I was well under the required 16:25 cut off pace. After mile 7 the climb got less steep. Somewhere in this stretch, I realized that my if I didn’t take off my rings ASAP with the way my fingers were swelling, it could get ugly. It was actually pretty tough getting them off, but I managed to do it and I stowed them in my zipper shorts pocket.

Side note/back story: the day before I had spent a couple hours Googling random 50K race recaps and read one for the 2011 Bull Dog 50K where the blogger noted the conditions were hot and that he was sucking down salt tabs every 60 minutes. I had not even considered salt. Then again, I’ve never run for 6 hours straight in heat. So, on the way to bib pickup, I stopped at RRS for Salt Stick caps which cost a flippin’ arm and a leg ($19.99? For salt and some other stuff?).

90 minutes into the run, I touched the side of my face and it was already littered with salt crystals. So I started taking a salt cap every 60-90 minutes – generally whenever I’d start feeling a cramp somewhere in my legs. I am so glad I read that blog entry and decided to pick some up.

Anyway, back to the race. Somewhere in the first 6 miles I snapped this pic:

Hello, Marine Layer – too bad you didn’t feel like hanging out inland! Though I have to say that without the fog the views were incredible.

Before I knew it, I had reached the next aid station – 9.1 miles, Maple Springs, 4500’ elevation.

This one was a full aid station with tons of goodies – including watermelon and coke. The coke was freaking awesome. I spent another minute or so here knowing the next pared-down aid station was only a mile and change away at 10.5.

When I got to there, the volunteer informed me that I’d be seeing her 4 times (!) as we had to run the Modjeska Peak trail twice – roughly 2 miles roundtrip. It was almost impossible to run up this trail. So much loose, chunky rock. Nearly everyone I encountered was coming down was cranky – the leaders especially. I can’t even count how many times I rolled my ankles. It, straight up, hurt to run or walk this stretch.

Mile	Time	Moving Time	Up	Down	Notes
10	14:41.8	13:33	340	0	Laurel Springs aid station
11	14:15.4	13:20	282	0
12	16:56.5	15:57	405	117	Modjeska Peak, 5384’
13	11:37.4	10:34	0	345	Maple Springs aid station

The Modjeska Peak trail was like a turd-covered diamond. Everything about it sucked – except the views. They were probably the best of the course. Even better, in my opinion, than Santiago. You could see Cuyamaca in San Diego, Lake Matthews in Corona, much of the Inland Empire and surrounding mountains. I went to snap a pic on the first time up and found my camera battery was dead. Booo. So I got to lug that extra useless weight around with me the rest of the trip. I figured at Santiago I’d swap out my cell phone from the back to the front pocket so I could take some pictures.

The trail up to Santiago was marginally better but still had loose rock, lots uneven embedded rock, and required some careful foot placement. But it wasn’t super steep (though Map My Run still classifies that part as a Cat 3 hill with 5.6% grade). I certainly took walk breaks with that kind of grade and elevation.

Mile	Time	Moving Time	Up	Down	Notes
14	10:27.2	10:14	67	88
15	15:05.7	14:16	377	11
16	22:54.7	13:58	303	36	Santiago Peak, 5687'

When I got to the peak it was 3:38 which was about what I expected to do time-wise. I tried to be as efficient as possible, but apparently I spent nearly 9 minutes here. Sheesh. My hydration pack was empty – I had burned through all 70 ounces and several cups of water and coke at aid stations. So, I had to get it filled with ice and water. Unfortunately, unlike the rest of the aid stations that had Grape and Pink Lemonade Nuun, this one only had Tropical and Fruit Punch which I could not stomach for 15+ miles. My least favorite options along with Tri Berry. Yuck. Thankfully, I had put some in my drop bag – I grabbed whatever I fished out first (Lemon Lime) and dropped in 3 tabs. I reapplied 50+ SPF sunscreen, ate some random stuff from the fully stocked aid station, and then a volunteer offered to snap a picture of me.

The volunteers of this race were awesome. I definitely need to volunteer in the future to pay it forward.

I finally headed back out, nearly got lost if not for another runner hollering at me that I was going the wrong way. I had told myself that once I completed that last rocky piece of shit Modjeska climb that I’d be in the clear.

I caught up to two ladies and another dude at the base and we all walked up it, though, my short legs meant that I could not keep up their pace. I took a quick stop half way to get a shot of Lake Matthews.

I hit the peak, turned around, and attempted to slowly run down, but, after rolling my ankles 2 or 3 times, I finally said (out loud) “Oh, fuck it” and just walked until I got to a couple stretches where it wasn’t 100% loose rock.

Mile	Time	Moving Time	Up	Down	Notes
17	09:37.6	9:37	0	399
18	09:14.3	9:14	0	308
19	15:20.7	14:39	157	0	Joplin Aid Station
20	19:58.5	18:15	400	107	Modeska AGAIN
21	13:23.7	11:48	0	355	Joplin Aid Station

It had started getting hot – the sun had come up enough that it was no longer behind the mountain so we were completely exposed. Update email I just got from the race director said by early afternoon the temps were pushing upper 90s. I had caught up with the two ladies, at the Maple Springs aid station. A little over 9 miles to go. I was feeling pretty good, so I was positive. Overall, most of this race, I was pretty smiley, cheerful, and happy. Nothing like zero-PR-pressure to make a race enjoyable! I spent 2-3 minutes at this aid station before taking off. From here on out, no one passed me. I ended up catching 3 dudes on the way down.

Around mile 24 it started feeling gross. I chatted with one fellow I caught up with who was having leg cramps. I offered him some salt caps since I had extra, but he said it was “too late” (I beg to differ on this one, it certainly wouldn’t have hurt to take some – was worth a try) but after offering a second time, I gave up.

My legs were starting to ache pretty good. At mile 25 we hit an uphill stretch of which I walked probably about 50%.

Mile	Time	Moving Time	Up	Down	Notes
22	10:22.5	10:23	0	381
23	11:24.7	9:05	0	302	Maple Springs Aid Station
24	10:11.4	9:53	0	244
25	13:13.9	12:48	160	80

I knew at that point I was going to finish under 7 hours, but it was looking like it would be on the higher end of 6 hours which was a little longer than I had expected. However, it had gotten so warm without shade that I really didn’t want to risk heat exhaustion or passing out. The back of my arms felt like they were burning - it would turn out it was more chaffing than sunburn. But when I looked at my arms they appeared red, so I prayed that the last aid station would have sunscreen.

Even though it was downhill, I would occasionally try to walk. And walking felt so much worse than running. Which kind of sucked because at times I wanted just to take a bit of a breather, let my heart rate come all the way down, but walking downhill just felt like crap. Finally, I saw the Laurel Springs aid station which I knew was around 4.6 miles from the finish. As I rolled in and they marked down my bib #, I asked if they had sunscreen – and they did! Such a relief. The one volunteer seemed very concerned about all the runners – he wasn’t there on the way up so I am guessing he was just seeing all the people on the way down looking fried and worked over. He convinced me to drink another cup coke. I complained/whined that I really didn’t want to go back out. I finally left the aid station after 5 minutes.Yeah. Five freaking minutes I lingered there.

The last 4 miles felt like crap mostly because it was so hot out. Seeing as this is a trail in the middle of nowhere, running down it would get me out faster than just sitting down and waiting for an aid station truck. Around mile 29 or so my Garmin beeped “low battery” but I figured it had enough juice to get me to the finish. There was one quarter mile uphill bit that I walked (uphill walking felt alright), and then I just shuffled down the trail, draining the rest of my nuun, and forcing myself to eat some clif blocks.

Mile	Time	Moving Time	Up	Down	Notes
27	14:04.6	9:12	0	396	Laurel Springs Aid Station
28	09:18.0	9:17	0	438
29	09:10.8	9:11	0	512
30	10:01.4	10:00	0	446
31	11:30.9	11:09	99	376	freaking uphill
31.6	05:29.0	5:29	0	317

Volunteers lined the little finish stretch and cheered for every 50K runner coming in. Seriously, awesome. I crossed, official time, 6:43:40. 6th woman of 19. 22nd out of 55 overall.

It’s a dude with a huge afro! Pretty funny theme with the whole “hustle” bit.

Garmin Data:

Time: 6:44:09, 31.6 miles, 12:47 pace
Elevation gain: 5929 feet.
Moving Time: 6:14:41, 11:51 pace – so if I hadn’t screwed around at every aid station I probably would have been under 6:30.

The winning female finished 5:12, second female was 5:54. From there, they were all above 6 hours. Which speaks to how much of a ball buster this course was. The dude who finished 6 minutes ahead of me has run several 50 milers and looked to be in good shape and I probably could have caught him if I wasn’t just hanging out at Laurel Springs. When I saw that only 2 men broke 5 hours (and not by much) I concluded that (while I always feel I can do better) I did pretty well for my first 50K with very little trail experience.

Maybe next time I won’t pick a course that involves climbing 5000 foot mountains in July in Southern California!

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing & Tiger Tail Winner

2012-07-06T08:22:00.001-07:00

Let’s get the Tiger Tail winner out of the way.

Crap, just noticed I spelled “Lindsay” wrong in my spreadsheet – sorry! I was typing too fast.

Winner is Erin A! Please email me where you’d like me to mail this thing. My blog email address is available in my blogger profile.

Now on to the “I Don’t Know What I’m Doing” part. Yo Momma asked what 50K taper looks like. Frankly, I have no idea what it should look like because I don’t know what I’m doing. Over the last 2 years, I have basically made up my own training plans. My first marathon in 2003, I trained for more than 6 months with the LA Roadrunners – followed their plan to a T. I have used Hal Higdon’s training plan for the half back in 2010 and then Runner World Smart Coach for Fontana in 2011. So, I’ve done the “follow the plan” deal and also the plan-it-myself and generally, I like to do the plan-it-myself with a heaping side of Google research.

For this monster, I had gotten 26.2 at Ojai to Ocean under my belt (the only downside was that the weather and course was the inverse of what I have to do tomorrow – just a smidge easier to run downhill in 60 degrees and cloudy, than hauling your ass up to 5700 feet in 80 degrees and sunny). Ideally I would have done another very high mileage day 2 weeks after (3 weeks before), but that weekend was my periodic “Liver Stress Test” get-together with my favorite coworkers from 2002-2004, so, there was no way I could get 24 miles in before that and definitely not the day after. Oh, Hell No. So I had to settle for 24 (toasty but not super hilly miles) 2 weeks prior to race day.

Doesn’t really look THAT much different from my marathon training probably because (a) it’s not that much further (6 miles), and (b) I’m not really “racing” it for a specific time (though, really, I do have some small expectations. Like, I’d like to finish under 7 hours but, the primary goal is to finish and make the cutoffs).

Now, if this were just a 50K road course in favorable weather like 50s or 60s, I think I could finish pretty close to 5 hours. But there is 7000 feet of climbing, it’s trail, and it’s going to be hot.

So I’m not expecting miracles here. My plan is to try to cover as much mileage as possible in the first couple hours when the temps are below 70. So, I may shoot for 11 minute pace until 8-9am and then start to back off as it gets hotter. I am also hoping tat at 5700 feet, it’ll be a bit cooler (albeit harder to freaking run with less oxygen). I just hope it isn’t so steep that when I finally get to go downhill in the second half it won’t be runnable. I am hoping to make up some time from the death march up to the peak.

The other thing I am irrationally fearful about is getting attacked my a mountain lion. Am I being completely stupid? I am considering getting pepper spray (I’ve read it’s incredibly effective against them, the only issue is having it ready since they are sneaky bastards that attack from behind). Seriously, though, I am probably being ridiculous, right? It’s pretty freaking rare. But I’m tiny, so, I would imagine I look like a good lunch to them. Never mind the rattlers. But I feel like I have a fighting change against a rattler.

Gently Used Tiger Tail Giveaway & Pro Compression Promo

2012-06-26T20:11:00.001-07:00

Stop the Presses! I am not posting some kind of race recap! I know.

Work has swallowed me up. My Google Reader looks like the I-don’t-have-an-appointment-line at a California DMV. So hopelessly long, you think you might say “eff it” and come back another time. In this case the “Eff it” = “Mark all as Read” and start over.

So, I have been chugging along with my made up training plan to Not Die in the Harding Hustle 50K on the 7th. Which most recently involved a slow 24 miles on Sunday, in sunny, dry 70s. Consumed nearly 70 ounces of slightly diluted banana nuun. With no trips to the rest room other than at mile 4 when I hadn’t yet sweat or drank much. So that tells you how much sweating and evaporating was going on. I usually drink around 28 ounces for 20 miles when its not warm and dry out. But I am finally into the taper so no more ridiculously long runs until “race” day (race in quotes because I will in no way be actually racing. Just “racing” to make the cutoffs).

Tiger Tail Massage Stick

Anyway, so, yeah, I am giving away my Tiger Tail massage stick. I recently got The Stick which suits my needs better than the Tiger Tail, which is a good product, but isn’t working for me. I got the least flexible stick because I am one of those people that needs massages to be mostly painful. The Tiger Tail is a bit to gentle for my taste.

This giveaway is entirely out of my own pocket, i.e. product, shipping, etc. It is gently used, so, it isn’t new. But it’s practically new other than some dust. If you want to win this thing, leave a comment on this post.

If you follow me on twitter (@lil_yogini), let me know in your comment and you’ll get an extra entry (look at me, being all blogger-ish). I’ll accept entries through July 1st, 11:59pm, and compile the list into a numbered spreadsheet, and use a random number generator to draw it. Shipping will be whatever is the cheapest option for me (since it’s my moola). Good only for addresses in the United States (50 states, sorry Canada, Guam, Puerto Rico – this blog makes zero dollars, so, gotta keep my shipping cost down).

ProCompression

The folks at ProCompression have come up with yet another awesome color of socks. I dig orange.

(Socks: http://www.procompression.com/marathon-orange/)

They are offering 40% off on this sock with free shipping through July 10, 2012 using the code SOM610.

At $30, they are an excellent value. For races, I use either ProCompression or CEP (and I own 2 other brands of socks). The others options are not as good, fit-wise, compression-wise, and style-wise.

In the interest of full-disclosure, I was offered a free pair of socks to promote their newest color release. However, I must also note that I am BS-averse and prone to brutal foot-in-mouth honesty. So I’m not just sayin’ it. It’s a good sock for $30. The full CEP socks retail for nearly $60 and rarely discounted more than 10-20%.

Ultra-marathon in less than two weeks. Eeeekkkkk!

Gettin’ Durrrrty

2012-06-13T21:27:00.001-07:00

Let’s see how fast I can dump my thoughts into this post.

Shortly after I committed to pacing O2O and deemed it a really long training run, I decided that if I was doing a 26 mile training run, then I could probably hack a 50K. I have no idea if this logic is really sound. Somehow I doubt it, but we’re runners. We’re often stupid about races and realistic goals.

I went beyond this and decided that it wouldn’t be a “real ultra” unless I did on a trail like every other ultra-runner out there. Which in Southern California = lots of hills.

Or just One Really Big Hill. Called Santiago Peak (i.e. highest point in Orange County).

About an hour north of me is the Harding Hustle 50K (15K and 30K also) on July 7th. After I registered for this I figured maybe I should to run some trail races since the last one I did was in 2003 - a half marathon around Vail Lake in Temecula. Might be a good idea.

So I got myself some trail shoes (Brooks Cascadia 7) in a fairly ugly color combination, some Dirty Girl Gaiters, and registered for Dirt Devil Racing’s Cougar Half Marathon.

The race was a week out from pacing Ojai; I wasn’t sore but I would strongly hesitate to say I was in any kind of racing shape. I had planned this to be a test run. Just go out there, run a bit harder than easy, get some longer trail running experience.

Then I got the race information email and they threw out this little diddy in the course description:

“Any runner that breaks 2 hours will qualify for an invitation to the Dirt Devil Dirty Throwdown Invitational Marathon”

Why must they taunt me with such a reasonable challenge?! Even on a hilly course, I can break 2 hours (case in point, when I was running overall slower, 2011 Highland YMCA Half Marathon - 1000+ feet of climbing), so this seemed entirely doable and within my parameters of not putting out a “full racing effort”. And out the window went my completely-for-fun trail run.

The race was to start at 7am - I arrived at 6:05am to find that the County of San Diego had not opened the access gate to the parking lot like they were supposed to, prompting the race directors to line us up until we could get in. Thanks to this snafu, the race started about 40 minutes late. Luckily the weather complied with June Gloom that didn’t burn off until 9:30am.

For the most part the race went well.

At one point I was contemplating rattlesnakes and how I would highly doubt any would be dumb enough to come out on the trail with 300+ runners pounding the dirt. Then I wondered if, like humans, rattlesnakes could have mental illness and just defy reason, logic, and instinct. Mentally ill rattlesnakes. I think of weird things when I run.

There was one bitch of a climb - Cougar Mountain - we had to crawl up twice. The front side of it wasn’t overly steep. I had a few brief walking spells towards the top when the trail was steeper. Going down the back side was crazy - it was fun but at times I worried I would fall on my face. Climbing up the back side on the way back, on the other hand, was pretty brutal. Lots of walking as walking was only slightly slower than running.

I was working only as hard as I felt I needed to get the sub 2 hours. I knew I was cutting it close, but that I could pick it up in the last mile and make up some time.

Around mile 12 I had the sneaking suspicion the course was not 13.1. When my Garmin beeped for mile 13 (I was at 1:58 and change), I wasn’t even close to where we started. I looked at my watch at 13.1 miles = 1:59:24, and still could not see the finish line, finish area, or any indication I was close to the finish.

And that is when I said “f*ck it” and slowed my pace way down. I let 3 women pass me and frankly, I didn’t give a shit. I finished with 13.67 miles, 2:05:18 (garmin).

Split	Time	Distance	Elevation Gain	Elevation Loss	Avg Pace
1	08:38.8	1	0	54	8:39
2	08:15.1	1	39	33	8:15
3	08:40.5	1	31	15	8:41
4	08:59.6	1	104	120	9:00
5	10:42.0	1	277	0	10:42
6	08:33.6	1	0	346	8:34
7	08:38.3	1	0	12	8:38
8	08:25.9	1	18	12	8:26
9	12:41.5	1	351	156	12:42
10	08:27.9	1	53	157	8:28
11	09:06.7	1	30	37	9:07
12	09:05.7	1	35	31	9:06
13	08:44.2	1	17	37	8:44
14	06:18.7	0.67	8	0	9:23
Summary	2:05:18	13.67	965	1,010	9:10

Note Death Mile #9. Also note the “I don’t give two shits anymore” final .67 miles – slowest pace of the race (aside from the hill climbing).

Apparently, it was known the course was long. It wasn’t mentioned in the race details but later, in the results blog post, the author wrote that it was 13.3 miles. However, I’ve never seen a Garmin be that far off before (.37 miles?). And I had one of the closer mileage readings. Other runners I talked to had 13.85 and 14+ (which seems way off). I think the course is actually somewhere between 13.5 and 13.75. Had I known this I would have either (a) decided to run the whole thing easy, or (b) actually race it and give myself a fighting chance at breaking 2 hours. I am somewhat annoyed that the course was known to be 13.3 miles, yet it wasn’t mentioned until after.

Anyway, this race left me feeling slightly scared about the Harding Hustle. But I still think I can make the cutoffs. If the heat doesn’t bury me.

My Cascadias and Dirty Girl Gaiters worked fabulously. I highly recommend these gaiter thingies for keeping crap out of your shoes. I still got copious amounts of fine dirt that crept through the forefoot of the shoes and my socks (very dirty post-race feet), but no rocks, thorny dried grass spikey things, etc.

I am not, though, sold on the handheld for my ultra effort. The handheld kind of makes me nuts. But the fuel belt bottles are apparently a huge pain in the ass for ultra aid station refilling. As if I need to be buying more gear, but it almost seems like I need a runner-friendly hydration pack (i.e. Camelbak)? Any ultra runners out there who might be reading with an opinion on this?

Ojai to Ocean Marathon: Foray into the World of Leading a Marathon Pace Group

2012-06-08T20:40:00.001-07:00

When I found out Compete Green’s Ojai to Ocean marathon was sold out shortly after Ragnar (I had the long mileage week I could use as part of marathon training, so I figured it would be good course to try to knock some more minutes off my marathon PR), I signed up to their wait list. About 2 weeks before the race, the directors sent out an email about the wait list (that it may open up for a limited number of slots) and that they were looking for pacers, including a 4:10 pacer. For whatever reason, it sounded like the perfect idea. I would then use that as training for some other race or something (*cough*trail ultra*cough*). About a week later they opened up the wait list, first come, first serve. Had I put in more than a 16 miler in the 4 weeks prior to race day I probably would have been annoyed because I obviously wasn’t going to renege on my pacer commitment. In reality, I wasn’t going to be PR ready by June 3rd. After some pacer volunteer juggling, I ended up assigned to the 4:25 group (10:06/mi pace).

With the no dog sitter situation, it became clear it was going to be logistically painful to drag the Husband with me so I ended up flying solo. But not totally solo. My coworker’s long term girlfriend was running the full, along with Sarah, Nicole, Danica, and Mason from Nuun. It was pretty funny that nearly 3 hours away from home, I knew quite a few people running (even some SDTC runners from Tuesday night track).

The Pre-Race

I checked into my ~~hotel~~ Motel 5+1, opened the room door to find it wasn’t actually vacant. Get another room assigned. This one was vacant but the shower was dirty with some weird machine grease like spots. I had no desire after 3+ hours of driving to deal asking for another room because, frankly, I didn’t know what I was going to find on the third attempt (Dead body? Scary homeless leprechaun?). I mean, there were several shady looking types milling around the parking lot. I dropped my crap off and headed to packet pickup where I ran into Nicole and her hubby, Mason, and my coworker. I made plans with my coworker+gf for dinner.

Around 8pm after the marathon fundraiser pasta dinner, I reluctantly made my way back to my craptastic lodging. I had picked up a big bottle of local Pale Ale at BevMo to complete my carboload preparation and found that my hotel actually came through for me in the form of a bathroom bottle opener!

Before I hit the sack, I actually took half a dose of a sleep aid knowing that the noise level outside might not be ideal (which turned out to be true - I woke up several times to all kinds of weird noises). 3:15 am was my wakeup call. At 4:30am I was the first customer served at Starbucks (apparently no medals are given for that. WTF). 4:40am I was in the line for the fairgrounds. It took the better part of 15 minutes to get in and $5 for parking (which we had been told at packet pickup would not be manned, thus free). As I was getting ready to go, a runner was asking everyone in the vicinity if they had spare socks. Oddly, I did. I had an extra pair of running socks in my purse from an RRS shoe shopping visit. I was a little morning-grumpy-cranky so I mumbled something about this being “weird and random” as I handed them over, and when she wanted to pay me I wholeheartedly refused (for my shitty Walmart Danskin socks? No. It’s fine). After the race. though, I found a thank you note with money (!) shoved in the car door handle. I wish I could find her and return it! Anyway, I hope they didn’t give her blisters. And that she had a good race.

The Race

After getting bussed up to the start, we found a decent number of porta potties with a reasonable wait (maybe 15 minutes). Wouldn’t have hurt to have had a few more since it seems some of the shuttles behind us might have been cutting it close with the 6am start. They announced the pacers and told us to make our way into the crowd announcing our finish time. I wasn’t sure how much self-regulation of paces was happening in the absence of corrals so I had to ask around. One dude was kind of full of himself as I was going through this process, snarkily telling me to move way further back. As if he is some elite or running sub 3 or something. This whole slow-versus-fast marathoner BS that some runners seem to have is so not attractive.

I finally settle in a place that seems reasonable based on the runners I questioned around me. And within a couple minutes of yelling out my finish time I had about 5 people around me, asking if I planned to run even splits, etc, etc. So my fear of having no one to pace did not materialize. Thankfully. I told them I planned on running a slightly negative split.

We started without a horn or gun, or anything, so it was a bit unexpected. Roughly about 10 minutes late.

Because I have the Garmin 110, I don’t see real-time pace. I see projected split time, and sometimes it takes a while in the first mile to hone in. At this point I should have run on feel but I listened to another runner (who earlier had told me she had a bad habit of taking it too fast in the outset) who said maybe we were taking it a bit slow (and my Garmin was still showing around 11:00 pace), so I picked it up a bit. This resulted in mile 1, 9:55. 13 seconds faster than 10:06 goal. Pacer fail already!?

Through a massive stroke of luck, I had a seasoned runner on my right: 131 marathons, and currently paces for the Clif Pace Team 5:00-5:30 (who apparently requires you finish within a 2 minute window, not going over). She told me that she gives herself the first 3 miles to find the pace. She was the bomb. And also from San Diego.

Lesson #1 in pacing: You are the pacer – you will have to find the pace on your own for the next 26 miles. Do not let another runner influence this and make you run faster (or slower).

Lesson #2: Give yourself some time to find the pace. It probably won’t be right on in the first mile. Or even the second.

Miles 2-6: 10:06, 10:03, 10:21 (hill), 10:10 (more hill then down), 10:00

By mile 3 I felt like I had found the pace, adjusting our speed slower on the inclines in mile 4 and 5.

We had a good group of men and women the first 15 miles. I did a lot of talking. Partly to make sure I didn’t speed up. It was extremely difficult for me in the first half to keep my pace above the 10:00, with the downhill. Before we hit the half, my newly found experienced pacer friend (who I think is in the 60-64 AG, based on her required BQ time of 4:25) told me that she could tell she was not in “4:25 condition” based on her heart rate and would likely have to peel off (I’m not going to lie, this made me slightly nervous – having her in the group made me feel much more at ease).

What I find interesting about my memories of this race is that I have little recollection about specific miles and markers, the scenery around those miles, how I was feeling relating to different points, etc. Talking to the group and focusing on hitting the splits took so much mental energy I really didn’t pay attention to anything else. In most every marathon I have raced, I have good recollection of the course. Pacing takes an enormous amount of focus but in an entirely different way than racing.

Splits from 7-18: 10:02,10:04, 10:08, 10:01, 10:05, 10:01, 09:59, 10:05, 10:03, 10:06, 09:58, 10:06

From mile 16 to 18, I started losing people, even though my splits were pretty damn even. Either taking off ahead of me because they used the pace group to slow themselves down, or dropping back because the pace was no longer maintainable. At one point, one of the runners started to hit the proverbial “wall” and another runner asked me how to deal with it. I seriously had no useful answer.

I said something along the lines of “I try to ignore it. Push through it.” Another runner suggested changing speeds. But, really, if The Wall were easily fixable by following some steps, it wouldn’t be called THE WALL. You know? Generally if you’ve hit the wall, it’s because you effed something up (training, nutrition, pace, etc). I felt bad I didn’t have a good answer. Maybe because it was only my 5th marathon. And my 131 marathons pacer friend had already dropped off so I couldn’t pick her brain.

Coming into mile 20, we had a stroke of luck. The course crosses active train tracks and the Amtrak passenger train was going North. We eased up ever so slightly and managed to avoid having to wait for the train and the crossing arms to lift. This is a bit of a course flaw; what if you got stuck waiting for a really long freight train or something? At mile 20, I’d be pissed.

Because I hadn’t studied the course…

Lesson #3: Study the course! At least look at it once!

…I didn’t realize that we were about to hit the ocean. It was a beautiful surprise! I still had about 3-4 people in my group, and one just ahead who was going for her 4:25 BQ (seriously, when I’m 60, can I be as awesome as these ladies?). I tried to offer as much advice as I could. My legs were hurting. I was freaking hungry in a “real food” kind of way (which was so weird – I think the fact that my heart rate was pretty low, it wasn’t hiding my empty stomach hunger). But I wasn’t tired. I knew I was going to make it tight on pace at that point, so that was a relief. But it was pretty brutal to knowing I still had an hour+ left and I couldn’t speed up to make it end sooner. Unless I wanted to be “Total Asshole Pacer”.

By mile 23, I had lost everyone, save for the lady up ahead who I think was still using me as a pacer, but more to make sure she stayed ahead but not too far and get burnt out. So to keep myself busy and also try to be helpful, I started cheering for everyone. Everywhere. I called across the to the other runners looping back in the last 2 miles. I tried to get people that were walking to start running with me. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes I got smiles and waves. Other times, I apparently annoyed the shit out of people.

By mile 25, I had caught up with the runner going for her 4:25 BQ. Myself and her two sons (who were running her in) talked her ear off, spewing instructions, motivations, information, etc. I knew she was going to make it but it was her second attempt in as many weeks (yeah, she had ran Ogden and missed by something like a minute) so they were hypersensitive to the potential disappointing “Just missed it!” outcome. She pulled away from me shortly before 26 and I continued to keep my 4:25 pace.

Splits 19-26.22: 10:02, 10:04, 10:05, 10:07, 10:08, 10:02, 10:06, 09:51, 02:12

I crossed, Garmin time 4:23:47. I actually have no idea what my chip time was because apparently the pacers were excluded from the official results. The first 13 miles were 2:10:54. Second 13 miles, 2:10:42. Ever so slightly negative split. As I ran to the finish, I told the photographer that this was the first marathon I’ve ever finished smiling! (rather than dying)

All in all, I really enjoyed pacing. It was such an awesome experience.

If you’re thinking about pacing…

Make sure you are pacing a time that is comfortable (i.e. 20-40 minutes slower than your recently “raced” marathon times).
Use a Garmin (I have no idea how pacers did it before Garmins – I would hope the courses they were on had accurate mile markers)
Be ready to talk a lot, answer questions, not have the answer to said questions, offer motivation, etc.
Expect to meet lots of awesome runners and have great conversations.

It may even be the most fun you have running 26.2 miles. It was for me!

2012 Vista Strawberry 5K

2012-05-31T21:06:00.001-07:00

Against my better judgment of running an event run by a particularly disorganized race management company (ironically named similar to Superman, Batman, Cat Woman, etc), I jumped on a Schwaggle to run it at the price of just $13. I figured it was like 5 miles from my house so, if it sucked, I didn’t travel far and it was cheap.

Turned out it didn’t suck but it could have been better. At least they contracted Gemini Timing which I’ve always had good luck with.

I picked up my packet the day before the race so I decided leaving 45-50 minutes before the start was good enough. I got there in about 5 minutes and walked over to use the portajohns. There were only like 5 or 6, and the line was looooong. I had some time to kill so I waited but it took 20 minutes. Definitely NOT enough porta potties. With about 7 minutes to go, I jogged back my car to drop my crap off and lined up before the start. They actually had a good singer for the National Anthem (which seems to be a rarity these days), and we were off 5-7 minutes late.

No corrals, so I had to dodge some folks, initially. In the first quarter mile, I peeked at my Garmin, saw 7:26 predicted mile split, and knew I had to pick it up. We got to Santa Fe Drive and I started picking up to that uncomfortable flirting-with-sub-7 pace, which for me, is a threshold where I wonder if I can maintain it for 3 miles. About half a mile in, a friendly gal recognized me. Not for my blog, but, not surprisingly, SkinnyRunner’s blog.

“Are you friend’s with Skinny Runner?”

How she could speak in complete sentences at that pace is impressive. I could only grunt back, “Oh! Yeah!… Hi!” and attempt a smile which might have looked like I was trying to push out a turd. She told me “Good job!” which I responded with, “Thanks, you too!” because I honestly couldn’t get more than a few words out at that pace. She dropped back (with that ability to talk, I think maybe she could have been pushing it harder!).

First mile: 7:00

We hit the turn around and I realized we had been climbing a bit (turns out about 60 feet in the first mile) so I got a nice break in mile 2. During this mile I passed I water stop which I wasn’t even sure was a water stop because the cups were still in the bags, no volunteers were manning it, and I didn’t see any water. I later heard from a fellow SDTC runner that it was “self serve” with a line. Not really acceptable.

Mile 2: 6:55.

Then we started several turns, with short uphills and downhills. I passed a two ladies here.

Mile 3: 7:04.

The last bit sucked pretty bad. I had been clinging to this one female who I think was friends with the girl that recognized me. I decided that while I might feel like puking, I needed to go all out. I passed her and then started to pass this older dude (like maybe he was in his 50s?) and he didn’t want to get chicked so he raced me to the finish. Gun time, he beat me by 0.3 seconds, but chip time, I was the victor. Same with the last female I passed.

I know you guys might hate this complaint of “Oh, the course was long” but, this was the difference between breaking and not breaking 22 minutes. I know I can do it, but it would have been nice if the course to worked with me a bit. 3.17, it’s not egregiously long but it’s freaking annoying. I also think I hit the start button too late because I got 22:03.65. My chip time was 22:05. It’s a new PR and the first time I’ve seen a 5K with sub 7 pace (garmin, not official). Sweeeeeet! Compared to Carlsbad, 3.14 at 22:14 (7:05) and 3.17 at 22:05 (6:57).

And! Turns out killing myself at the end made me 1st out of 87 in the 30-34 age group, and 11th female. However, no age group awards. I felt like this AG win was legit (i.e. it wasn’t like the previous weekend where I won but there were only 7 or 8 people). Yet, no recognition. Seems like something they should address next year – my SDTC track friend got 3rd in her age group and we both were pretty surprised and bummed (I know, we’re just amateur recreational runners, but these little stupid things do make us feel good).

What’s next? Last week I impulsively volunteered to lead an Ojai 2 Ocean pace group. Specifically the 4:10 group. But because I told him I could do anything from 4-5 hours after he asked me if I could pace 3:55 instead (which made me too nervous), I was swapped to 4:25. Which is roughly what I ran for my first marathon in 2003 (Los Angeles). I think I’ll be ok – I don’t generally have any issues running paces up to 12:00/mile but I’ll need to hawk my Garmin to make sure I’m not taking it too fast when we hit the downhill. I hope that I have some peeps to pace and I get them there on time!

Inaugural Menifee Half Marathon

2012-05-25T07:31:00.001-07:00

Two things I realized while running this race Sunday:

I’ll take a hilly course and cool weather over a flat course and hot weather any day of the week
I am burnt out from racing

Saturday evening I found that my left calf was extremely whiney. I sticked it, massaged it with sports cream, stretched it, compressed it, etc. Woke up and it was still tender to the touch. But I had paid more than $80 to do the Menifee Half so I couldn’t bring myself to eat the fee.The race started at 8am which, in May, is never a good idea, but it did allow me to leave as late as 6:15am and still get there before 7am.

Parking and bib pick up was very easy – it was a small race. 125 people in the half marathon. I did a little warm up to test the calf and it wasn’t too bad. But at 7am it was already nearly 70 degrees so I knew heat was going to be a factor. Everyone gathered behind the start line around 7:50am and we were off at 8am, right on schedule.

After 18 years of running and racing, I have gotten much better at going out easy and working the negative split. So I ran the first few miles on feel. Garmin beeped for mile 1 at 8:04. This a bit slower than I would have expected given the 7:53 pace I ran at PCRF. Mile 2, 8:06. I could already feel the heat which is probably why my “running on feel” was resulting in low 8:00’s rather than high 7:00’s. Mile 3… 8:10.

At that point, I was pretty aware I wasn’t even going to come close to a PR.

We turned onto Garboni Rd and I made another realization. This course was “California Flat” which is not really flat. But flat out here is relative given how hilly OC, Inland Empire, and San Diego are.

Elevation gain: 413 ft

Trudging up the long gradual hill, I experienced by first ever urge to legitimately drop out of a race. It was easily over 70F at this point. A PR was pretty far out of reach, and even attempting to come close to it would probably be incredibly painful with the heat and leave me feeling pretty gross and awful the rest of the day. But I’ve never DNF’d in my entire life. And without a real injury, I could not come up with a good reason to just give up.

So I made the decision I was going to finish this pain in the ass race, but run it just a smidge faster than a training run. That wouldn’t destroy my legs or leave me dealing with heat sickness the rest of the day (which, by the way, I didn’t really avoid altogether. I felt much worse after this “race” than PCRF). I had skipped the first water stop, but since I was no longer “racing” I was going to stop at each station and pour water on neck and head to deal with the heat. The other kicker about this course is there is no shade. None. It’s pretty much rural roads without trees.

We turned north and cruised downhill. At the next water stop around 5.5 miles I grabbed another cup, threw it on myself and took a right, passing a dude who decided I would be his Garmin Sherpa. His had died and apparently he was having some issues finding a reasonable pace with the heat so his new plan was to pace me. I was glad to have the company! We chatted about running, ultras, Ragnar (his ultra team had to DNF due to a drop out during the race), triathlons, his ironman training, etc. During this time I was also exceedingly whiny about how I was running 8-10 minutes slower than just two weeks ago. Hopefully I wasn’t too annoying.

Shortly before mile 9, we caught up with the maroon-shirt girl in the first photo. I told her “Good Job!” as we passed and she asked me what mile we were at. I obliged as apparently I was the only person in the vicinity with a working Garmin. We hit every water stop and threw water on ourselves. Honestly, there is a very good chance I would have walked at this point because I had really given up on salvaging any part of this race, but having someone running with me totally kept me going. I felt like I had to keep running.

With two miles to go, I heard someone yell out to me “How many miles!?” It was our young maroon-shirted friend who was following behind us.

“11!” I yelled back.

At this point, I had exhausted my 21 ounces of gatorade, and was drinking water from the stops. It had to be close to 80F. The last 2 miles were hot and uncomfortable. But we still picked up the pace a bit. Around the last quarter mile, the girl behind cruised past us. I again, told her “Good Job!” because I honestly didn’t care about if she dropped me down another notch in the gender placement. Kicking it in just a bit more, we crossed, gun time 1:52:37. My running friend, never mentioning it the whole time we were running together, had a nearly 20 minute PR. Holy crap! I felt good that I was at least somewhat helpful in that achievement (aside from my bitching and moaning about how slow I was going compared to two weeks ago).

Even after giving up 3 miles in, I was still the 8th woman out of 49, and 1st in my age group (out of 9), thanks to the fact that it was a small race. Even my running buddy got 2nd in his age group.

When I left Menifee around 11am, it was 92 degrees! The race directors were very receptive to our comments/suggestions and said that next year, it would start at 6am (holy earliness – but still better than running in the heat). I got home and passed out on the couch for several hours. I can honestly say that had I pushed it any harder during the race, I would have been 100% useless the rest of the day, and possibly sick. Overall, I’m glad I decided to take it easier. There will be other races to run faster. And I got to make some running friends rather than be miserable and alone for 13 miles!

Race Report Procrastination At It’s Finest

2012-05-18T22:12:00.001-07:00

Well, maybe not at it’s finest but it’s certainly the longest span of time I’ve waited before blogging about race. Well, maybe except the time I was busting my ass to break 2:00 and bombed back in 2010.

Anyway, so last year I ran the PCRF Half Marathon. I was not privy to the course’s elevation profile as they didn’t post it. They just said the course was fast. I call “bull shit” on this statement. False advertising. It has about 410 feet of elevation gain, most of which happens in the second half of the race. Which means you are almost guaranteed a positive split unless you really held back in the first half (and I question if that is even a good strategy). It’s a mind-f*ck, this race, if you haven’t experienced it before. Especially since they don’t post the elevation chart so you aren’t aware you’re going to get your ass handed to you in the second half until after you’ve spent too much energy in the first half.

Thus why I believe this race will never be a big race. It is the same day as the OC marathon and half marathon, maybe 10 miles away. The OC half has a beautiful course that has a gentle downhill slope. Why would you ever choose an uphill finish course over a downhill course with better scenery? The only reason would be to support PCRF. Which is a great reason. But if you are not in it for that, well, you’re going to pick the OC half and rightly so.

Last year, I ran 1:52:10, where the last two miles involved walking and 9:30-ish pace. I was blindsided by the last 5 miles. This year, it went much better.

(I hit the lap button at .1 because this course is always a bit long and I wanted to know what I actually ran for 13.1)

Official time was 1:44:04. 12th woman, 5th in age group. I missed by current PR by 8 seconds. My current PR was a Santa to Sea, which is flat as a pancake, and the weather that day was ideal (low 40s at the start, low 50s at the finish). So I ran only 8 seconds slower in humid 60s on an uphill finish course. I’d say that’s an improvement. Apples to Garmin Apples, my pace at Santa To Sea was 7:55. PCRF, 7:53.

Some highlights:

Margot ran me up one of the pain in the ass hills and overpasses in mile 9.

I got to hang out with Monica at the finish

Chatted with Pam and her family for a bit

Cheered for Heather as she pulled out a massive 18 minute PR.

Saw the crazy dude running in a poncho and Tapatio socks (Monica wanted to steal the socks off his feet).

And I really liked my race outfit for once (yes, I know, copyrighted picture. I have no readers or blog revenue so I make nothing from this “stealing”. Anyway, just like last year, the pictures kind of sucked):

The tank is a girls large (i.e. kids, because I am barely 5 foot) Nike drifit tank that I got at the Nike Outlet in Lake Elsinore. Shorts are my favorite of all shorts – Oiselle distance shorts. Pro Compression blue argyle (matchy matchy!) and my Brooks Cadences (note: was not paid to mention these companies, I just liked my outfit and felt like blogging it).

2012 Lake Miramar Cinco de Mayo 5 Miler

2012-05-08T19:53:00.001-07:00

I had initially decided two try to squeeze two races reports into one and then decided that (a) I am lazy, (b) that’s a shload of words, (c) the act of writing just the first third got super boring, (7) you would be bored, (ii) decided to split into two posts per usual and just do bullet points.

Lake Miramar 5 Mile course:

Mile 1: 7:00 (errr, maybe I went out too fast)
Mile 2: 7:07
Mile 3: 7:16
Mile 4: 7:13 (at 3.1 realized I had just PR’d my 5K)
Mile 5 (0.95): 6:56 (I ran some good tangents on this course)

Official Finish Time: 35:36 – New 5 Mile PR! (7:07)

Other Race Data You May Care About But May Also Not Give A Rat’s Ass:

3rd Female Overall (of 13)
12th overall (of 45 – obviously this race was heavily male)
2nd in Age Group (got a non-descript medal, interesting little diddy is that pro triathlete Lesley Paterson came to run the race as a hard workout. 1st female, 2nd overall, and 1st in 30-34. 5:44 pace. Just a hard training run. NBD.)

Other Thoughts:

Saucony Kinvaras without my insoles/orthotics are working well for races and speedwork 10K and less.
I would have gotten a cute sombrero for 1st place AG but, alas, super fast lady demolished us. 2nd and 3rd overall got zippo.
Though I went out a bit fast in the first mile, overall I felt good and didn’t crap out in any of the miles.
The course elevation profile was friendly, so that helped. Though it did have some tight turns and baby rollers.
I plugged the time into the McMillan calculator and it gave me some scary sh*t back on equivalent race performance times. To which I responded with “Liar, Liar, pants of fire!”
And then secretly thought that there could be some shred of truth to the idea that I could run 1:39:xx half on a favorable course in favorable weather with a good taper.
Overall, it’s a cute little mid-week night race (6pm) benefitting a local high school cross country team. Race fees are super low (I paid $12 with my SDTC discount), there was water and food at the end, and most people get some kind of age group award because the race is so small.

2012 Ragnar Socal Ultra Part 4. Thousand.

2012-05-02T22:09:00.001-07:00

(part 1, part 2, part 3)

So yeah. At exchange 33, my mood went from complete dejection to slight hopefulness at the sight of shiny, sparkly skirts who, it appears had just handed off or were about to. Clearly I was not the only one that had a rough go of it that afternoon. We would later find out that one of their runners had gotten lost on leg 33 because of downed signage (which is unfortunate,but this is part of running relays. Happened to our 12-man team, in fact).

Pam came in from her 11 miles and threw her hydration belt at us; Nicole ran to catch her to see if she wanted to pound the rest of her water bottle. Turned out she did. And then she took off and we drove to the next exchange. She was so in the zone and focused that when we cheered for her as we passed she could only give us her signature peace sign and not even look at the van.

As we waiting at exchange 34 to send off our anchor, Nicole, a group of women in pink tutus swarms SarahOUaL’s husband and asks if he’ll take a picture of them so they have a shot with a “hot guy.” So weird and kind of rude (perhaps they didn’t know he was her husband, so I give them the benefit of the doubt there). However, later, when we are waiting for Nicole to come in at the finish, this same group just prances in between a group of 3 of us chatting. Twice. Rudely. I was not a fan of these ladies (I was a fan of the fact that 6 of us beat 12 of them by 2 hours).

Pam hands off to Nicole who has 11+ miles to complete. While Nicole had just under 30 miles to complete which was relatively low compared to Sarah’s 42, she was stuck waiting for hours. We had been roaming around three counties since early Friday morning and now it was Saturday late afternoon. No sleep. Crappy nutrition. Everyone else is done.

Anchor runner sucks, is what I’m saying. Especially in an ultra relay.

She told us she didn’t need us to stop for her at the mid-point exchange so we go straight to the finish. And commence freaking out when we see, around 5pm, that Team Sparkle appeared to have already finished, and Nicole had just texted me she has 6 miles left and was dying. We didn’t know if Team Sparkle had finished 30 minutes prior, 10 minutes prior, or just minutes before we saw them.

Mason tries to talk sense into us that Nicole has something ridiculous like 90 minutes to complete 6 miles but we were stupid tired and didn’t understand logical arguments. Freaking out and fuzzy math resumes.

I distract myself by talking to SMCOL 12-man team and soon I get a text that she is 1 mile out. She comes running up to the beach path tired, exhausted, and looking for her team. Unfortunately we were situated closer to the tail end of the waiting teams. We run her in, but have some “Faster Bunny Complications”. Margot had tried to run barefoot, but then that didn’t work on concrete, so we paused while she got her flip-flops on as she screamed at Nicole to “just go” because, as I said earlier, we were thought we were impossibly close to losing (or winning) first place. So we were concerned about milliseconds at that point. But we wait anyway, and then Margot starts running again but is running with her flip-flops sideways once she hits the sand. We were a sight, our team. We didn’t care about the picture. Just saving the seconds!

Trickling across the finish line:

About 24 hours later, we learned from Gemini Timing that we came in first by about 16 minutes. In a 200+ mile relay, that is pretty damn close. But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades (and also bocci and curling, but whatever).

Did we run slower than we hoped? Absolutely. But, for me, this was much harder than a marathon. My performance was way more unpredictable with the heat, the lack of sleep, etc. The 12-man is an effing walk in the park in comparison to the 6-man. But we still killed it.. Second all-womens team, first all womens’ ultra, 5th ultra out of 28 teams.

Some Final Thoughts On My Van Mates

I spent 30+ hours with these ladies and I feel like I know them all infinitely more than I did before.

Sarah OUAL: Turns out this girl does really well with little sleep. Like drives a huge-ass van like a champ at 3am, pounds out speedy miles, and did not look like death at any point. Pretty impressive. And was positive and cheery the whole time.

Margot: She is my nerd-buddy. I hope, Margot, you realize this is a compliment. We both like to slay us some SATs. And she has the absent-minded professor vibe which cracks me up. She reminds me of my high school XC/track buddies.

Nicole: It’s no wonder she has a pretty high-stress, high-responsibility job. She handled the lack of sleep, the fact that she was stuck as anchor watching all of us finish our legs, better than any of us. I needed Nicole in that van.

Pam: Man, Pam got zero sleep and while she got quieter as we got closer to finishing she is like Nicole. Mentally tough. She is truly, a sweet/good person and super humble.

Sarah (SR): I leave her for last because I have a bit more to say. GOMI talks a lot of shit about her. And prior to Ragnar, I hadn’t spent any appreciable time with her, knew very little about her as a person, and approached her with some skepticism (I despise Fox News, we are polar opposites from a political standpoint, we both grew up in very different socioeconomic situations, I am not religious, etc). Turns out she is super humble, very supportive, and was an awesome van mate. She was instrumental in getting me through my meltdown in leg 3.

Would I do a 6-man again? At this point, almost two weeks out, the answer is still no. I much prefer the “easy” 12-man relay. And if I want to do an ultra, I’d rather do a 50K or 50 miler on my own without the pressure of letting 5 other people down, other than myself! But I’m glad I did it and I’m extra glad we won!

~~Obligatory~~ Shout out to Our Sponsors

BIC Bands (Sandy from BIC Bands was on the 12-man and she is super cool. And the bands, truly, do not move and are great)

Aspaeris