May 2007 Archives

Since I learned that my brother planned to run the entire marathon course, I kind of forgot that I had my own race. All I wanted to do was to finish my race as fast as possible so that I could go cheer him on. And it started out that way.

First, we interrupt this report to complain about the race. While waiting for the start, the race director told us to follow the pace car and we wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Too bad it didn't work out that way. At the first turn, the car turned left, and we turned right. See ya, wouldn't want to be ya. Lucky for the leaders, us followers knew the course and brought them back. Then, at the bottom of the hill, the 6K runners were supposed to split and head to the finish line. But no course official was there and the cop blocking the intersection didn't have a clue. Again, we tried to get most of the 6K runners on the right course. The one that finished right behind me, pissed that he ran the whole 10K course, must've missed the split. Other than those mishaps, it was a nice race. Back to the action.

I set my watch to set up a 10K race with 7:15 min/mi splits. That's a final time of 45:03, approximately 3:30 better than my previous PR and right at one of my season goals. I wasn't expecting to go that fast, I just wanted to see what I could do. Down the hill and through the course split, my watch beeped at the first mile: 6:30-something. HOLY FRICKIN' MOLEY! (or something along those lines) I slowed way down. (See the chart below.) My first thought was about how much I just destroyed my race. My next thought was that I now had approximately a 9 second cushion per mile. So now I only have to average under 7:24 min/mi to get that sub-45 goal. This just might be doable. I settle back and just keep my stride for the next few miles.

About mile 5 or so, a woman passed me. Unlike me, she paced the race correctly and looked to have a strong finish. She was perfect for me to follow. I stuck with her for the sixth mile. My key jangled in my pocket and my breathing was hard, loud and heavy. It had to be really annoying. Annoying enough that she kept looking back. After the fourth time, I apologized, "Sorry. I'm still here." At least she laughed.

Once I hit mile 6, I dropped the hammer and finished hard. With the help of my pace setting friend, I knew I had the sub-45, but could I get a sub-44? FOR SURE! With the official time of 43:55, I exceeded a season-long goal by over a minute and a PR of nearly five minutes! In the finish line area, I sought out my pace friend. She had a big smile as I approached and I thanked her for pacing me. I got some food and then took off after my brother at mile 14 of his marathon. And he ended up finishing in 4:07 or so. Big congrats to him!

Post Race
I officially earned fourth place in my age group. But since the overall winner was in my age group, he got removed and I got bumped up to third, eligible for an award. Unfortunately, I didn't realize it until Tuesday morning. (No word yet if I still can get the award.) Update: They're sending my placque! More hardware! Sweet!

I cleaned out my closet on Sunday to discover I had yet to discard any of my running shoes. Only one pair aren't in the shot, as they're in the mud room and used for messy outdoor activities. I average about 250 to 280 miles per pair. All but the two on right are set aside to be recycled.

The Lake Monona 20K runs around Lake Monona for a total distance of 20 kilometers, or about 12.4 miles. (Duh.) Lake Monona is the second of three lakes in size and order on the Yahara River chain. It is the southern lake along with the larger Lake Mendota that form the infamous Madison isthmus, of which I live on.

I arrived at the race start and met up with my buddy/co-worker Tim. We got our packets, and then headed back to our cars to drop off our warm-up layers and hit the porta-pottie one last time. It was cool, windy and the forecasted rain was going to hold off for the rest of the day. The trick now was to figure which clothing to use to stay warm. I elected for a light long sleeve shirt with shorts, no gloves. Watching everyone warm up, I estimated that at least a third of the crowd were triathletes based on their attire, wearing of race belts/timing chip holders. I overheard several people that attendance was way up from previous years, but based on the results, that's not obvious.

After a brief delay, we started out and I immediately lost Tim. "See you at the finish line" is all I heard. I initially planned on averaging 8 min/mi for a final time around 1:40, thinking that I was going to fade after that pace for over 90 minutes.

Immediately after the start I had to pee. I thought it would fade. It didn't. I reached the first water stop on perfect pace, hoping to see anything resembling a pit stop. Alas, there were none to be found. I quickly scanned my brain for locations along the course that might provide relief, but none were close enough to consider. I guess I'll just hold it and hope that it goes away. (It didn't.)

I hit the halfway mark exactly where I intended to be. I high-fived my wife and asked if she'd gotten my elephant ear (aka a bear claw) f rom the farmer's market yet. (She was going back to get it.) Even though the wind was directly in our face right off the lake, I was feeling extremely good. So, I revised the strategy: I will continue to split 8 min/mile for the next 5K, then drop the hammer for the last 5K and see what time I could pop.

I finally was running the way I should. My Forerunner 305 helped immensely, mainly to prevent me from chasing others ahead of me. While I know I could stay with them in the short term, I haven't developed and running 'feel' yet and don't know how much to hold back so I need help. A quick glance to my wrist did the trick.

Miles 8 and 9 leading into the 15K mark were getting faster, so I let it go at that point and went all out. I popped my second Gu at the final aid station. I was a bit worried I might urp it back up, but it stayed down and really, really helped. I need to use these more often.

It was a tremendous feeling passing all those people that I let go. The urge to pee was still there and growing. I struggled between the need to hold it in versus the effort to keep running hard. With about 2 miles to go, the route passed a construction site with a fluorescent orange porta-pottie. It was ten feet away. It begged me to use it. My bladder begged me to use it. My mind said, "Finish hard or pee? Your choice." I chose to finish hard and held it in.

To help get passed the pain of premature peeing, I marked two guys ahead of me and attempted to pull them in.

"Finish. Just get to the finish."

I passed them. On the next hill they, in turn, re-passed me. I was fading.

"Finish. Just get to the finish."

I set my next target on an obvious choice: a guy wearing 80s-era spandex with a cotton shirt tucked deeply inside. The shirt was tucked so deep into his shorts, the sweat was wicking well below his ass and dripping. It looked like he was wearing a leaky diaper.

"Go get him."

I passed him in the last down hill before the finish. Damn it felt good picking of the weakest of the herd. One last pass of a female in the finish chute, and I'm done. I stopped my watch and didn't look at it. I grabbed two waters and went directly to the bathroom. Once there, I suddenly don't have to go. Figures. I have to go every five minutes for the last hour and a half and then when given the opportunity, it stops.

I stretched, wondered around a bit and ate bits of bagels waiting for Tim. I don't like the fact that chocolate chip bagels look so much like cinnamon raisin ones. I hate the taste of a chocolate chip bagel, especially when I expect sweet cinnamon and juicy raisins.

I finally got around to looking at my watch. I was excited to see 1:36:25. Good enough for 109th overall and 30th of males aged 30-39.

Tim arrived earlier than planned. His goal was to run a 10 min/mi pace. Once he saw he was at 1:03 at the halfway point, he went for the negative split and sub two-hour goal. He crossed in 1:59:58, the last under 2 hours.

Analysis
Below are two printouts of my effort:

The first one above shows my pace (blue) and heartrate (red) versus distance. Note how my heartrate and pace are relatively even for the first 8 miles of the race. Right after that I dropped the hammer and raced to the finish line.

This one shows my pace in five-kilometer sections. Note how much faster my last 5K was than the first three. Overall, I'd like to see my next race even out the last two fourths so that they are equal but even and faster than the first two fourths (half.) This is called negative splitting. It's really swell if you can do this on an effort basis, but even better if you can do it on a time basis, as well.

I missed out on signing up for this tri last year, so I was excited to get my registration in. Only then did I realize it was the day after Crazylegs. This could hurt.

The course starts in a pool, out to the road for the bike and then out to a off-road run course. I was assigned wave ten, two and a half hours after the start of the first wave. There were a max of 20 people per wave (three people for lanes 2-6 and four in lanes 1 & 6). I got there a little early to check out how the course laid out and how the pool to T1 transition worked. It was a good thing I did. They were a half-hour early through wave seven. I went to warm up and finalize my transition area. I came back and it seemed like things were taking longer. Wave 8 had only just started. So I got in the diving well to continue warming up. Wouldn't you know it, but my blister protecting band-aids immediately fell off. I guess it was better sooner than later. Once done, wave 8 was still swimming and we were nearing our actual start time. Unfortunately, that let me think that I had to wear my top for the race. I didn't plan on swimming with it, fearing that the pockets would fill with water and drag. So I thought I would be really smart, and leave it at the end of the lane to grab on my way to the bike. Really, I thought I was smart.

Swim
Finally our wave was ready. As we waited, I could tell the elite swimmer all go grouped together. Seems like tough competition. And then, all of a sudden we were in the water, checked in and sharing paces. I was third of three. Number one, a high school kid, was expecting a 5:25 split for his 500 yard swim. Number two estimated 6:00. I was expecting the same pace, so we all agreed to tap toes to pass. And then we were off. All of that waiting and finally, I was swimming. Within the first 100, I caught the number two swimmer. It took another 150 to catch number one. He started off like a rocket and quickly died. I can never remember my count, so a couple of tarzan strokes at the 450 confirmed one final lap. I love how much faster the yards go by in a race than in practice. One final turn and the drive to the final wall and I'm out, grabbed my top and took off running to my bike.

Swim split: 5:54, 1st OA/AG (includes run out to timing zone)

Bike
As I ran out to my bike, I realized the error of my ways. This is me trying to put on my top: one arm in, then the other, doesn't go down. Try again. Did one go through the neck? Or did one go through the arm and the first go through the neck? Nope I had it right, put it back on, quick, wait, now it's stuck, ouch, stretch, reach up, pull it down, okay, now put on your shoes and finish your transition. Oh, hello everyone, why don't you join me and pass me in T1. Great. So maybe it wasn't that smart. Everyone else just threw their bike shoes on, topless or not, and took off while I fumbled around. Lesson learned.

It was a beautiful day with plenty of friends reacquainting themselves. Wind, meet bikes. Bikes, meet wind. No matter how courteous each other are, they just never get along. One minute, the wind pushes you along, effortlessly pedaling nearly 30 miles an hour. Around the next bend and the wind is all up in your face, going nose to nose like Sweet Lou Pinella arguing a close call at home place. It's a love-hate relationship. After the turn, with the wind at my back, I pedaled as fast as I could muster. It was eerie because I felt no wind in my face. Sustained winds had to be near 30 miles per hour. Thankfully it was a short course (13.7 miles). However, the long straightaway back to T2 that begged to be downhill with the wind at your back was nothing but a nightmare. Instead it was slightly up hill and perfectly south into a southeast wind. Not only did you have to fight the wind in your face, but an occasional side gust from the neighboring naked corn fields taught a lesson in bike handling. The field ahead of me zigged and zagged with every gust. I climbed the final two bumps and I was back in T2, ready to run.

Bike split: 40:05, 19th/4th OA/AG (includes T1)

Run
Recent rains made the original course impassible. I didn't know if this was good or bad. Based on what I saw of the new course, I assumed it was bad. It was either up or down hill and rarely straight; a true cross country course. Out of T2, I quickly passed another up the first hill and then was passed by my bike rack neighbor. I only lost sight of him around the fifty plus turns in the course. As hard as it was, it was fun. No wind, in the woods, along a boardwalk, through mud and across a field. I also tried to cheer on others along the course. Several were walking, and hopefully appreciated my encouragement. I got passed on the finishing straight, which sucked, but I had nothing left to give chase. The course was long, too. That and the inclusion of T2 lead to higher times.

Run split: 26:01, 44th/6th OA/AG (includes T2)

Post-race
Because of the wave start and subsequent 10-second intervals in the pool, I was completely unaware of how I finished. The first time my name came up, I was third in my age group and fifteenth overall. I waited and waited and finally the awards started. And wouldn't you know it? The third place held up. My first piece of triathlon hardware. It's small, cheap, and relatively insignificant. There's no engraving, no marks, and nothing but a printed label that's not even attached to memorialize the day. Yet, I was more happy driving home with it in my pocket than I ever was when getting swimming medals as a kid. I even wanted to show it to the kids in the McDonald's drive-thru. I guess you get out what you put in. And all my hard work is starting to pay dividends.

Total time: 1:11:59, 18th/3rd OA/AG

2007 opened with a full plate. I signed up for the Earlybird triathlon not realizing that it was the day after the Crazylegs Classic. Crazylegs is one of those local races that you have to do, because there are 9,000 others that do it with you. How do you say no to 9,000 people?

I ran to the start to warm up. On my way, a runner with an obviously orange warm up jacket merged to the path just in front of me. I ran closer and noticed it was from 2007. Referencing the Nor'easter that hit Boston over Patriot's day, I asked if he'd dried out from the race. He had. We continued chatting and I learned that he'd been in town for the week on business. His recovery from the marathon was progressing nicely, so he extended his stay an extra day for the race. He, too, couldn't say no to 9,000 people.

I started in wave D, just fourth from the front. My plan was to run a 7-minute first mile and hold it steady from there for a sub-36 finish. The first mile came and went, 6:42. Darn. Too fast. This is going to hurt. About that time, I noticed that same girl was near me. Dressed all in blue, she was darting between people to find open space. I latched on to keep her same pace and hope she'd pull me to the finish. In my head, she was "my girl blue." Blue slowed the next couple of miles and I stayed with her. She bobbed to open spaces and I kept my eye on her. Soon after the third mile I was straining to see Blue in the through the open spots. I blinked and then she was gone. Ugh. Not having Blue to latch on to allowed thoughts of rest for the next day's triathlon creep into my mind. And for the few minutes my I fought them, I knew my sub-36 was gone.

This season is as much about running as it is about mind games. I can visualize finishes, but I have trouble visualizing the fight that it takes to through the pain to get the finish I desire. I really could've learn something about myself, but the triathlon the next day kept me from pushing miles 3 & 4. I kicked in a bit for mile 5, and was surprised to see that I finished in a personal best 36:10. Being so close to 36 minutes was bitter sweet. On one hand, I got a personal best, but I missed my goal by the (lack of) hair on my head. I finished 662nd overall and 85th in my age group.