Consistency

To say that consistency was my primary running goal the past couple months would sound like I've been reading Runners World just a bit too much. Don't get me wrong, RW is a great magazine, but it's just not exactly the guide book for competitive runners (Running Times is a better read along those lines). Since last spring, my running has been anything but consistent. From the end of March through August, there was a sprained ankle, recovery, a furious 4 weeks of training for the Dipsea, a week of down-time, a 1200 dash off no speedwork, unsuccessful mileage build-up, alternating weeks of 60 miles then being too run down to train well for a week or two, then finally a strained calf muscle. Whew - I'm out of breath. The lesson was that I kept wanting to jump straight into heavy training, but by skipping little steps I was falling more and more out of shape.

This blog has been quiet lately because there really hasn't been much to talk about. At the end of the summer, when I was frustrated & on the DL, I chatted with Jack - our West Valley coach - while he timed a workout for the rest of the team. Todd Rose, who was also nursing an injury, showed up with three Lagunitas IPA's (a very good Bay Area brewed beer if you've never tried it), and we had a nice training discussion. It because obvious to me that I had to be patient, not focus on speed, but methodically build my mileage back up, and yes... be consistent!

I was back jogging in early September, threw in a weekly workout in October, then was running a few XC races, and running up to 55 miles a week by early November. Nothing exciting, but I'm feeling like a runner again. My races results have been ok for someone racing their way back into shape, but not where I want to be (and certainly behind a year ago). My last race of the fall will be Sunday at the highly competitive PA Cross Country Championships. Sure I wish I was heading in off of a longer base buildup, more tempo runs, more speed, and faster race results, but it's coming around just at the right time, and I'm ready to give a good shot!

After the race - and a little bit of down time - I'm really excited about training hard, training smart, and being ready for some fast results in the Spring. I can’t wait to replace focus on consistency with a focus on intensity.

Here's a pic from my most recent race in Sacramento. Racing your way into shape is a little more painful!

Dana's Marathon

Over the summer & into the fall there was a Gifford training hard for a big race, and no it was not me.  Dana – my lovely wife in case you don’t know her – just completed her first full marathon at the Nike Women’s Marathon in San Francisco.  This had been a big goal for Dana for a few years.  Two years ago she was fit and ready to go, but an injury set her back less than three weeks from the Chicago Marathon.  As she built up her fitness for this year’s Nike Marathon, there were a few aches and pains, but she was patient yet tenacious to get herself to the starting line fit and healthy. 

Dana has supported and encouraged me while I’ve trained and raced the past three years, so I really enjoyed riding my bike around the city, cheering her on, and handing off GU & gatorade.  She was smooth and comfortable early on, then really determined over the last few miles as a light rain started falling. 

Dana wrote this recap of the race that I wanted to share.  I’m proud of you Dana!

Nike Women’s Marathon Recap

I always knew that I wanted to run a marathon at some point in my life and today I am proud to say that I accomplished that longtime goal.  It’s important to have goals and aspirations in life; it keeps us motivated, it lets us really live and experience life, and makes us more interesting individuals.

I really enjoyed my marathon training.  It was fun exploring new running routes in SF and feeling the joy of pushing my body just a bit further each week.  Jamey gave me tips along the way and boosted my confidence when pain crept into my body and doubt crept into my mind.  Injury had prevented me from running previous marathons, but this time I had made it to the starting line in good health.

Here’s a breakdown of the day.

5:15 AM – Wake up, make some coffee, and try to eat an English muffin with peanut butter. 

6:15 AM – Nervous gitters and I still haven’t used the bathroom (sorry to be graphic) but this is a red flag which means I will most likely have to stop somewhere on the course.

6:30 AM – Jamey drops me off at the start of the race.  I gather with 20,000 runners (mostly women) at Union Square.  As I stand in my corral, my heart is racing and I get teary eyed just thinking about all the strong women I’m surrounded by and that this is the moment where I begin to test myself and pursue my goal. 

7:00 AM – Gun goes off and we start running.  It is before sunrise so we’re running in the dark to the city lights of San Francisco.  I like this moment and the next 4 miles will probably be the easiest of the course.  We run to the Embarcadero and then through Fishermen’s Wharf.  As we run by the SF Sourdough Company, the smell of fresh baked bread at 7:15 AM is overwhelming. 

Mile 3 – I can’t settle into pace…heart is still racing with excitement as I try to figure out a conservative pace and realize that I’m probably running too hard at an 8:40 pace.  Everyone has told me to go out slowly but I struggle to calm myself down and find my rhythm.  I think of Jamey and how he always tells himself to “relax” when he’s in a race and feels anxious.

Mile 4 – I make the decision to take a pit stop now to avoid potential stomach disaster later.  I lose 1 full minute! – it’s not easy to use a porta potty quickly!  Then I climb the first hill of the race.  I know this hill well due to all the sprints I’ve done up it in my boot camp class.  I get to the top with ease.

Mile 5 – I see Jamey cheering me on for the first time.  He was on his bike and biked around the course all day meeting me and cheering me on at various points.  The sun has started to rise and I run towards the Golden Gate Bridge.  Chrissy fields is my favorite place to run in San Francisco and is a regular part of my morning runs.

Mile 5-7 – The first big long climb up to GG Bridge and around the headland.  I feel good, strong, and am settling into my pace.  I see Jamey for the second time.

Mile 8 – Mostly steep downhill and I make up some time.  My left hamstring and glut (which has been aggravating me) starts hurting.  I remind myself that I’m doing it and pursuing my goal and that I’ve made it through the biggest climb of the course. Then I smile.

Mile 9 – Another steep climb but I know there’s another steep decline at the top.  I look for the Ocean on the horizon and keep chugging through.  Once I’ve finished this climb, I will have completed the 4 biggest climbs of the race.

Mile 10 – Turning into Golden Gate Park.  I don’t like this section because it is 3 miles of gradual climbing.  Mentally it’s hard to get through because you feel slower but visually it doesn’t look like you’re climbing.  The good news is that there’s lots of race support and spectators on the course for the next 3 miles.  Along the way I see the Nike Campaign signs that read “I Run to be…(fill in the blank)”.  It motivated me to see all the different ways that sentence was completed.  As a race participant, we had to complete that sentence in our race application.

Mile 13 - I see Jamey again and he gives me a Gatorade to drink.  At this point the ½ marathoners had already split from us and we become a much smaller running group of about less than 5000.  Most people are just doing the ½ marathon.

Miles 14-16 –We loop back and now run back down through GGP once again heading towards the water.  I’m feeling okay and know that two major sections of the race are almost finished.  The bad news is that I’m no longer running very close to any other runners.  It has really thinned out and it looks like I’m going to be on my own going forward.  I see a few runners up ahead about 40 yards.

Mile 16-18 – Great Highway.  It starts to drizzle rain.  I look at Ocean beach and see big waves crashing into shore.  The ocean looks wild and somewhat stormy.  I know I have the hardest part ahead of me.

Mile 18 – I see Jamey again and grab more snacks.  After this, I see Jamey frequently through out the rest of the race.  But my mind gets kind of fuzzy since I’m focusing on the run.  I know I’m running low on energy and need to eat.  But, I take one bite of a Luna bar and my body wants none of it.  I almost spit the bite out but force it down.  The smell of food is repulsive even though I know I need it.  I force down a few sport beans hoping they’ll carry me through the last 8 miles.  Every marathon runner talks about hitting the wall in the last 6 miles of the race.  For me, I start to feel The Wall begin to build itself.  I’m hoping to finish before fully hitting it head on.

Mile 20 – The rain increases.  I don’t mind but my shoes and socks start to get pretty wet and heavy.  I’m tired, my legs hurt, but I know this is the part of the race that I’ve been training for.  I knew this was going to be hard and that it was coming.  They offer Ghirardelli chocolate and I laugh at the idea.  Chocolate after the race, yes, chocolate in my final push just didn’t seem right (even though looking back I probably would have benefited from it).  Prior to the race, my aunt Gail taught me a mental trick.  She said to dedicate the last 6 miles to people you know would never give up on you in life and to just focus on that person.  So mile 21 went to my good friend Joelle.  Miles 22-23 went to Erin and Wendy.  Miles 24-25 went to my mom and dad, and Mile 26 was for Jamey.

Mile 22 – I really start to feel the pain.  My legs are burning.  The rain is coming down.  I’m getting chafed from the rain and I feel a big blister on my right foot.  I just keep thinking 2 more miles around this lake and then 2 miles back through Great Hwy to the finish.  I see Jamey and he yells “stay strong, only 4 more miles” and I keep repeating that to myself “stay strong, stay strong”.

Mile 25-26 – I crest the final hill but I’m sputtering, completely out of gas. That Wall that had been building was finally complete and I hit it straight on.   I was bonking, I was hitting the wall.  My legs are screaming at me, I have completely depleted my energy, its pure will power at this point.  I see the 4 hour pace group go by and I make an effort to pick it up and join them.  The effort lasts about 40 yards and I just can’t get my legs moving any faster.  As I watch plan A go by (finish within 4 hours) I just let it go and focus on Plan B (don’t stop running).   I feel like I’m at a shuffle and I must look horrible because at this time the spectators really start to cheer for me and motivate me on.  I listen to the battle going on between my legs and my brain.

Legs:  “Let’s just stop and walk a bit.  I promise it will feel REALLY GOOD.  Come on, just a few steps, it would be soo easy to walk right now.”

Brain:  “Keep putting one foot in front of the other.  You’ve come all this way and you’re not going to walk in the last two miles.”

Legs “But look at all those other runners around you, some of them are walking.”

Brain “Walking is contagious, be strong and just keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I know we’re going to miss your goal of a sub 4 marathon, but just keep moving, don’t stop, and let’s finish this thing.

Legs:  “Pretty please let me stop.”

Brain:  “Legs, you knew this was coming, this is what we trained for.  This is it, so let’s do this.  I promise I’ll give you a rest in 2 miles.”

Legs:  “Okay, I’m giving you what I got but I’m not happy about this and I’m not going to move very fast.”

Brain: “Let’s just do what we can.  We can see the finish now.  Let’s finish this.”

Mile 26 – I cross the finish line with my arms in the air. I’ve done it.  I smile and receive my Tiffany necklace from the handsome fireman in the tux.  Then I make my way through the shoot grabbing snacks, water, my shirt, and I look for Jamey.

Although I would have liked to stay and enjoy the moment, the rain was coming down hard and I was beginning to shake with cold.  Jamey and I find each other (it’s so good to see him again) and all I want to do is get home to a hot bath.  I receive lots of phone calls and text messages from friends and family congratulating me and cheering me on.  It was great.

Everyone always asks “would you do another one?”  My answer to that is yes.  I really did enjoy the training and the feeling of pushing my body to its limits.  Next time, I’d like to run a flatter course that would give me the chance to really find my rhythm and let me settle into a pace.  Nike was a beautiful course and it was in my backyard but each mile was completely different and I didn’t have two consistent splits throughout the entire 26.2 miles.  My pace ranged from 8 minute miles to 10 minute miles so I really struggled to settle into my strides.

For now, I think I might go back to working on improving my time on the ½ marathon.

Thanks to all for your support and guidance along the way.

Dana

I'm running for mayor of Gimpville

I'm back on the DL. 

In my last blog post I talked about an inconsistent summer of training.  In 3rd week of August, I went on vacation for a week at the Beach in Connecticut with Dana's family.  I had plenty of time to stretch, exercise the weak area of my legs, and go for some good runs.  By the end of the week I was running pain free, and logged nearly 60 miles.  The following week back in San Francisco, I was feeling tired from the training, but just tried to keep the volume up with mostly easy running. 

Last Thursday, I did my first hill sprint workout of the summer.  Hill sprints are a good way to maintain speed & power during the base phase of training.  The workout was simple - a 6 mile easy run, then 10 x 10 uphill sprints in the Presidio (walking back down the hill in between).  I felt good lifting my knees up, and didn't have any soreness the rest of the evening. 

I woke up in the middle of the night, and felt a throbbing pain in my leg.  I managed to fall back asleep, but when I got up in the morning, my calf hurt so bad I could barely walk.  The whole thing was swollen and it felt like it was on fire.  I felt pretty miserable through the weekend, and an appointment with a sports doctor Monday confirmed a strained calf.  There's no real way to treat it, other than letting it rest and heal.

The West Valley Track Club ran it's first cross country race of the PA season this past weekend with a great showing by the team (including Jonathan Charlesworth winning his first PA open race, and Chris Knorzer winning his first master's race).  I'm bummed that I won't be able to contribute until maybe toward the end of the season.

For now I'm letting things rest.  Right now I still have a bit of a limp, but finally walking fairly normally.  I'll be doing some cycling, and really try to focus on straingthening my legs, feet, and core.  Last time I was hurt, I really rushed to get back in shape for the Dipsea.  This time, while I might do some races early in the cycle, my plan is to comeback with a slow, steady, patient build up. 

Summer downtime

I haven't talked about my running here since the Dipsea, because there really hasn't been much to talk about.  My grand intentions to log some substantial mileage this summer has fallen pretty flat.  Since I was injured for several weeks in April, I figured I'd keep training hard after the Dipsea, and gear up for some summer races.  Following that race, I was both physically and mentally tired, so a week later I decided to back the training off and start building some base mileage.  I backed off, but just haven't gotten back on track yet.  There hasn't been a big reason for my inconsistency, just a lot of little reasons.  I had a minor reaggrivation of my sprained ankle, a busy weekday schedule, felt a little sick for a few days, went on the Mt Whitney trip (which certainly doesn't count as slacking off).  I've been running most days, but just don't feel like I've been training.  With the exception of one week where I managed 59 miles, most weeks haven't been less than 40.

Looking at the big picture, I'd rather be enjoying the sport and running well when I'm 40 than have a couple big years of racing, then be too injured or burned out to keep running. 

I did run 2 races this summer off my limited training.  West Valley decided to enter a distance medly relay (DMR) at a meet in San Francisco.  The DMR consists of a 1200, 400, 800, then 1600 meter leg.  I was asked to show up at practice the Tuesday before to "try-out" for the race, even though I was supposed to be resting.  Still I agreed - it sounded fun - and ran a 600 meter time trial with Alex Mason (a very fast 800 meter runner, but who was coming back from a long injury break).  I basically sprinted all out & ran 1:29, 1 second behind Alex.  Our teammates were thoroughly entertained/amused/impressed with the effort, that they decided Alex & I would both run.  So I ran the 1200 meters to lead us off & managed a 3:15 split - not bad off no speedwork!

The next race was the JP Morgan Corporate Challege - a 3.5 mile race organized by company teams.  I represented the Wells Fargo team for the 4th year in a row & had my best finish yet for this race finishing in 8th place running 18:32 for 3.5 miles.  I was happy given my current fitness, but still waiting for the year when everything comes together in this race. 

I'm spending this week with Dana's family at the beach in New London.  Hopefully all these little aches and pains will go away, and I can get down to some good running!

Mt Whitney

A couple months ago a buddy who I've worked with at Wells Fargo with for several years emailed me out of the blue and said "hey, I have a permit to hike Mt Whitney, want to join?" Well hell yeah! The highest peak in the continental US, could you come up with a better summer activity?


On a Thursday in July, 4 of us headed to Kirkwood for a day, first to acclimate to altitude at 7800 feet. The next morning we drove south to Lone Pine, CA - back down to 3000 feet and 100+ degree temps - to spend the night and get ready for the big hike.


Because summer thunderstorms can be treacherous in the Sierra Nevada’s we got a very early start. We left the hotel at 2am, and on the trail at 2:45! The hike starts at 8300 feet, and it was pitch black dark, except for our headlamps. There were definitely people who started earlier because the only thing we could make out in the distance were headlamps on the trail above us.


Around 4:30 I could make out my first traces of the mountains above, and shortly after 5am I was the first one in our group to turn my headlamp off. At 5:50 we were watching the sunrise from 11,000 feet. Just after 6am, we arrived at the 12,000 foot trailside camp, where many hikers were just waking up to start a shorter summit hike.


I was feeling pretty good up to 12,000 feet. I could certainly tell the air was thinner, but wasn’t huffing & puffing and the legs still felt pretty good. The next leg was where it started to get harder. We climbed up a long section of trail to 13,700 feet which included 96 switchbacks. I was happy to have the trail flatten out for a bit as we caught our first views toward the west of Whitney into Sequoia national park.


Next was a brief downhill, then the last push up to the 14,494 foot summit. The trail was beautiful, but we just seemed to slow down as we were stepping on and over lots of granite rocks and as the air was so thin. From 14,000 feet to the summit it didn’t take more than a few steps to get my heart beating out of my chest.
At 9:50, we were standing at the summit! I was pretty exhausted at this point, and it took a few minutes of recovery to fully enjoy it. Mt. Whitney itself just looks like a big pile of broken granite rocks. It’s actually much less impressive looking than some of the jagged peaks nearby.. but, Whitney is the tallest!


The way down was much easier on the lungs, but was brutal on the legs. In the last couple hours, my feet were just killing me every time I took a step. It was a great sense of accomplishment to get back to the car around 3:30, know we’d hiked 22 miles & 6000+ feet up & down in a single day!


Back at the hotel in Lone Pine it was 106 degrees! It felt like an oven just standing in the parking lot, but boy that pool felt good. A couple hours later we rewarded ourselves with burgers, ice cream, a couple beers, then bedtime.

The 100th Dipsea Race

The long anticipated day finally arrived, the 100th running of the Dipsea Race.  The Dipsea - first run in 1905 (with a few years missed during the great depression and World War II) - celebrated it's centennial as the 2nd oldest footrace in America behind the Boston Marathon.   The race is rich in history, and has a cult following of Northern California runners who have competed for decades.  I ran my first Dipsea last year largely out of curiosity, but have been dreaming about the 100th running since I crossed the finish line at the 99th! 

I'd say there's two main aspects of the Dipsea that makes it so unique.  First, it's the most beautiful and toughest cross country race in America.  The 7.5 mile distance isn't so intimidating, but add to that 2000+ feet of climbing and descending, hundreds of stairs to climb up and fly down, narrow trails, uneven footing, and a lot of poison oak.  Over the course of the race, you look up at beautiful Mt. Tamalpais, run under giant redwoods at Muir Woods, and stare down at the Pacific, that is of course if you're able to take your eyes off of the trail right in front of you.  Second, the Dipsea is a handicap race.  Each age & gender group has an assigned starting time with the youngest and oldest runners starting first at 8:30 am, 19-30 year old men starting last at 8:55 am, and a different group starting every minute in between. At 32 years old, I started at 8:54 - a 1 minute head start over the "scratch" group.  Then whoever gets to the finish line first is crowned the overall winner.  There are no age group awards, just coveted black numbered t-shirts that are awarded to the first 35 to finish.  Based on the format, runners of ANY age have a shot at winning.  If you don't believe me, read on!

My preparation for the Dipsea started with a long build up of base mileage throughout the winter with increasing workout intensity in the early spring.  But my training hit a snag when I sprained my right ankle and had to miss most of April.  My initial emotions told me that I had lost any shot of running well and winning a black shirt.  Even if I managed to maintain/regain my fitness in time, I was worried that my ankle would never be strong enough to handle a tough run over the extreme course.  I went to physical therapy to strengthen the ankle, and when I started running again, I had 7 weeks to get ready.  I figured 1 week to jog, 1 to run, 4 to really train, then 1 to taper.  With just over two weeks to go, I felt my fitness was finally coming around and my confidence boosting.  I was going to be ready! 

The race starts gently enough as you run on a flat section from downtown Mill Valley, but that's over quickly as you hit the first of the 688 stairs a quarter mile into the race.  After the stairs, you continue uphill & crest Panoramic Highway.   Then it's the first downhill section as you descend on a single track trail, then a road, then a steep narrow trailed called Suicide.  After that you enter Muir Woods, almost back down to sea level.  That's where the real fun begins.  You cross a creep on a narrow foot bridge, then it's 2+ miles uphill gaining over 1300 feet, ending with Cardiac Hill.  After Cardiac you wind along a gradual downhill trail for about a mile, before the technical downhill sections of The Swoop & Steep Ravine.  Then there's one last short, but typically painful uphill know as Insult Hill.  Finally in the last mile runners take their favorite routes back to Highway 1 before finishing in the Stinson Beach parking lot. 

Even though the course is constantly changing, I like to break the race down into three sections:  The start to Muir Woods, Muir Woods to Cardiac Hill, and Cardiac to the finish.  The first part is about finding a rhythm - running fast without burning too much energy, the middle section requires the most fitness and toughness, and the finish is about managing very technical descents when you're very tired.

On to the race...

I was relieved to shake off the nerves and sleep well the night before.  I warmed up with some buddies, and felt ready to go.  Since this was my first year in the invitational section (I was in the dipsea runners section last year which starts behind all of the invitational section), I didn't know what to expect in terms of the congestion from passing runners out on the course.  Mark McManus, who won 3 fastest time trophies from 2006-2008 and was second overall last year, was starting in my group, so the game plan was to follow as closely to him as practicable for the first sections of the race.  He would know better than anyone how to navigate and pace his way through the crowds. 

The nerves really started to hit as we lined up for our 8:54 starting group, but I knew I was ready for today, and that I had a long race ahead that wouldn't get all that difficult until it got really hard heading up to Cardiac Hill.  As the whistle blew, I tucked in right behind Mark & Stephen Donahue (who finished 9th overall last year) as we headed up the steps.  I found the congestion on the stairs manageable in the invitational section, unlike last year in the Dipsea Runner's section last year it was almost impossible just to keep running.  As we ran up the 3 groups of steps, then continued uphill to Panoramic Highway, I was feeling well under control.  This wasn't easy, but it wasn't all that painful yet.  I let Mark & Stephen go a few seconds ahead of me, but they were still in contact. 

As we crested the first climb and headed downhill on the first real section of single track trail, I found myself held up by some slower runners.  I seemed to lack the rhythm to find a spot to pass on the side while keeping a steady pace on the uneven downhill terrain.  Like I often do in races, told myself to relax, and got myself around some of these runners - to the right, to the left, or wherever I could.  As I looked up, Stephen was getting closer to me again.  That gave me confidence that I was moving well down the hill. 

After that we hit a downhill section of road.  Downhill running has been a real weakness of mine in terms of cross country races over the past year.  I never seem to keep pace with comparable runners when we hit long and/or steep downhill sections of races.  I had tried all sorts of variations to my stride, but finally in the weeks leading up to the Dipsea I found that a short quick turnover was the ticket to moving fast while conserving energy.  On this section of the race, I just looked up for the best lines to pass between people, and kept those legs moving.  As we neared the next trailhead, I realized I was actually catching back up to Mark... on the downhill! 

Next up was suicide, the first really technical part of the course.  I couldn't keep up with Mark's technical downhill skills, in fact after this point, I never saw him again, but I managed to find a way to pass slower runners as I bombed down, and caught right up with Stephen by the end. 

As we hit the footbridge at Muir Woods, my split was 15:25.  I'd run over a minute faster to this point than last year!  Part of the reason was less congestion in the invitational section compared to the dipsea runner's section, but still a good sign.  Now onto the fun part, the 1300 foot elevation gain up to Cardiac Hill.  From my training, I found it never worked out to hammer the first steep section out of Muir Woods (known as dynamite).  It just took too much energy when there would still be so long to go.  So I settled into what felt like a painfully slow pace, but still kept me passing runners quickly.  As we climbed out of Muir Woods, Stephen started to pull away slowly, but I needed to run my race so I let him go.  As we transitioned into the middle section of the climb, I starting hitting what I considered an annoying amount of congestion for the first time.  I'm not sure the congestion was actually worse, but I think I'm catching more competitive runners, and it's at a point when I'm having to work really hard to run a slower pace (because of the uphill).  The half way rock marks the spot where you're roughly half way up the climb, and half way through the race time wise.  This had been my mark to pick up the tempo and start to push harder up the climb.  If you're really awake, you can take advantage of some rolling sections to run fast, while other runners might be take a breather.  My most disappointing part of the race is that I "fell asleep" here when I should have been running aggressively.  Several people have told me not to waste too much energy being overaggressive trying to push people out of your way.  I took it too far the other way by not doing what I needed to do when I got caught up by people blocking the trail.  So bottom line is I wasn't moving fast on the sections I should have been flying on. 

As I reached the top, I was feeling better than last year, but not as well as I did in some of my training runs.  I downed one cup of water, dumped another on my head, and hit the split on my watch.  My time of Cardiac was a disappointing 20:39 - over 30 seconds slower than last year, but the total split of 36:04 was still 37 seconds faster than last year. 

From here the trail starts gradually downhill for the next mile.  Finally the crowds had thinned out, but I could see several runners up ahead.  Then something unwelcomed happened.  As I wound up my pace on the downhill, I felt a piercing side cramp.  I couldn't even exhale without a loud grunt.  It was so loud that a runner just ahead turned around to see what horrible animal might possibly be hunting him down.  I tried pressing my rib cage - no relief.  Then for some reason tried a deep cough...  momentary relief!  I few breaths later I tried again, then a few breaths later it was gone!  Finally!  Time to roll! 

Now I'm just looking ahead for the next runners to lock onto. There was a pack about 200 meters ahead that I'd catch a glimpse of on straight sections of the path, and I was reeling then in quickly. Right around the 5 mile mark, a volunteer said "you're in 38th, the black t-shirts are just ahead." This was a shot of excitement. I quickly caught the next three runners, and told myself "you're wearing a black t-shirt!"  I just wanted to make that number on the shirt as low as possible. Each time I passed a runner, I counted down my place – one tiny bit of motivation at a time to propel me toward the next person.

Unfortunately one of the next runners I passed was the 2007 Dipsea champ, Jamie Rivers (at the time Jamie Berns). Last year Jamie married one of my occasional training partners – the 2008 Dipsea champ Roy Rivers. Both Jamie (59) & Roy (53) are part of the Tuesday night Pelican Inn running group. A few of the older runners in the group have been gathering for Tuesday runs since 1985! The past two years, I’ve met with the group for the grueling Cardiac Hill time trials in the weeks leading up to the race. This year, the group formed the Pelican Inn Track Club to take a shot at winning the team title for the 100th Dipsea. While I’m very loyal to my West Valley Track Club, my normal team doesn’t compete at the Dipsea, so I was happy to team up with this other fantastic group to run my favorite race.


Both Jamie & Roy have given me lots of advice about running the race (except for maybe their favorite short cuts – I may never know). When I went out to practice the downhill steps of steep ravine the Thursday before the race, I saw them both of them out on the same section of the course, inspecting the conditions and surveying the course one last time before the race. As I was struggling to find a rhythm down the stairs, Jamie gave me some great advice to just visualize keeping my chest forward out over my feet. It was a slight adjustment, but it made a huge difference, allowing me to take up to 3 steps at a time. Both of them have been had given me so much encouragement as I fought back into fitness the month leading up to the race.

When I passed Jamie on the course, she was walking with a noticeable limp. But even with what must have been considerable disappointment to fall out of contention, she was cheering on every runner who passed her. I just thought it was a great demonstration of what a true Dipsea champ is all about. It turns out that Jamie was trying for her 14th black t-shirt which would have broken a tie for the most ever won by a female. At our Pelican Inn dinner two nights after the race, it was my turn to encourage her – I have no doubt she’ll be high on the podium last year.

* running toward the swoop


After I passed Jamie, I started recognizing some of the Pacific Association master’s men and open woman as I passed them and continued to count down. As we hit the swoop - a steep section similar to suicide - I was briefly held up by a PA runner who I recognized, but then returned to aggressive tactics yelling "LEFT LEFT LEFT" which pretty much scared him into giving me the little bit of room I need to let gravity do its magic.  I made easy work of the next couple runners as I counted my position 29th, 28th.

Then onto steep ravine, which is the most technical downhill section with steep uneven steps.  The steps were still a bit wet and slippery just 10 days ago, but after a very warm week they were finally dry.  I slipped twice here last year, just avoiding a real fall both times.  But this year, I was finally dialed in taking 2-3 stairs with each step.  27th, 26th...  Then I saw something unexpected.  As I'm flying down the stairs, I see an older man clawing his way out of the ravine back on the trail!  Good news is he was ok, but just a reminder of how treacherous that course can be! 

As I cross the foot bridge and head toward insult hill, someone yells out "Let's go Gus."  Oh man!  My buddy Gus Gibbs has made up the 1 minute headstart I had over him.  I pushed the pace up insult hill.  His footsteps briefly faded, but as we crest the hill and get our first view of Stinson Beach, he's right back on me.  Man he must be flying on the downhills!  I stay in front of him on the first of two very narrow short single track sections off the highway, but before the final single track, he passes me and quickly pulls away.  As we rejoin the highway heading into the sprint to Stinson Beach, I'm in 20th place.  I see Gus and Stephen Donahue way up ahead, but too far to have any chance.  Then I catch a glimpse of a runner in his 60s (who turns out to be Jerry Edelbrock who owns a pile of black T-shirts).  But he's so far away!  My rational psyche tells me not to even bother launching a hard kick, but I keep telling myself that he's much older and isn't running nearly as fast as I am.  We make the last turn and I really dig in and see him coming back to me quickly.  With about 50 meters to go, I finally know I have him so I try to savor the last few seconds of the race as I hear the announcer say "WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A PASS... IT'S JAMEY GIFFORD."

* one last runner to chase down











* driving toward the finish










19th Place in 52:40 (a clock time of 51:40 w/ my 1 minute head start).  49 seconds faster than last year!

The elation sunk in immediately.  I remember thinking "I want my black shirt now!" but of course would have to wait a couple of hours until the awards ceremony.  So I rubbed down with tecnu (to wash off the poison oak) - I got it bad the next week anyway.  Then I went for a painful cool down jog - oh yeah... I had run hard today!  And finally enjoyed a couple beers with my Pelican Inn teammates.




* post race treats!












 * the Pelican Inn Track Club












 * Dana & I enjoying the post-race












At the awards ceremony, they count down the black shirt winners starting with 35th placeDipsea winner, 72 year old Russ Kiernan finished right in front of me, and I had a great time chatting with him throughout the ceremony.  My training buddies Mark McManus finished 6th, Alex Varner 4th (along with the fastest time trophy), and Roy Rivers 3rd.  Standing in front of the stage as they handed out the awards was so special for me, and clearly was for everybody else up there.

* the black shirt winners















* Russ Kiernan












The winner was quite a shock to many.  Last year 7 year old Reilly Johnson took covered the course in 1:27 along with the maximum 25 minute head start to finish 199th.  This year, 8 year old Reilly would get the same 25 minute head start for the final time - or I should say the final time until the year 2068 when she turns 66.  Reilly, who had done her 3rd grade history report on the Dipsea Race, was inspired to train for a black shirt.  As the tiny runner she practiced and trained, her parents came to a shocking conclusion.  She could win this race!  Reilly started the race in the first head start group with former champion Melody-Ann Schultz.  The two would push each other for the entire race.  Running down the swoop, Reilly stumbled.  Melody-Ann was right behind with no where to go, so she scoops her up and "C'mon darling, get up!"  Reilly passed Melody-Ann again on insult hill, and held her off by 8 seconds to win the 100th Dipsea Race.

* the two leaders

 * Reilly Johnson sprinting toward victory











The final award was so touching.  Sal Vasquez holds the distinction of being the greatest Dipsea champion, hands down.  Sal won 4 years in a row from 1982-1985, after which they added a winner's penalty (head start minutes reduced following a Dipsea championship).  He followed it up with wins in 1990, 1994, and 1997.  But after 1997 Sal never returned.  Finally this year Sal, although unable to race due to injuries, traveled to the Bay Area to be part of the 100th Dipsea celebration.  Just before announcing Reilly Johnson as the champion of the 100th Dipsea, the announcer called Sal Vasquez on stage to present the award.  Sal, lifted up the tiny girl to the microphone so that she could thank her family.  Reilly had an ear to ear grin, but tears in her eyes.  I think every grown man who cared about this race was a little chocked up.  Reilly's black t-shirt fell below her knees.  When they took pictures on stage, Melody-Ann Shultz and Roy Rivers had to help her hold the up the trophy.  Her actually time on the course was 1:12:30.  Just a phenomenal performance for someone that age.  I'm pretty sure her actual time was faster than most of the men in their 20s were able to run the course. 

* Sal Vasquez holding Reilly Johnson





















* the top 3












I was extremely satisfied with my race.  I had steadily improved as a runner from the prior fall through early Spring, but after my injury a good Dipsea race was seriously in doubt.  Even though my race wasn't perfect by any stretch (although I don't know of any runner who's ever said they ran a perfect race), I definitely think I made the most of the amount of time I had to prepare for the race and the fitness I had on raceday.  I was also happy for Dana.  It was great to have her share what's become a huge part of my running.  In her first race, she ran a very solid 1:22 and looks forward to racing next year!

348 days until the 101st Dipsea...

* Back home & very tired.  I wore my black shirt the entire day.

It's been 100 years, now there's 1 day to go

The wait is almost over for the 100th Dipsea Race.  Friday night, Dana & I picked up our bibs.  It was so cool to see it say "100th Running of the Dipsea Race" at the top.  What started as a bet over beers at the beach in the early 1900s quickly turned into the toughest and most storied cross country race in the U.S. 

My participation seems like a bit of a coincidence.  In early '09 I was running with a buddy who he was entering that year's race to guarantee a spot for the 100th race.  I thought, hmmm... sounds fun, maybe I'll do the same.  I got a spot in the 99th running through the lottery system, and a good race easily qualified me for this year.  Sometime between receiving my entry confirmation in '09 and toeing the starting line last year, I fell in love with the race.  I was introduced to the Pelican Inn runnres (a group of guys that first started meeting for runs back in 1985).  The original - now silver haired - crew has been joined by younger runners over the years.  I also read about the past and recent history of the race, and have been dying to be part of it ever sense.  I've been dreaming out the 100th race since I cross the finish line of the 99th!

My long build up hit a snag, when I missed most of April with a sprained ankle.  Training was frustrating at times in early May, but I kept pressing hard.  Finally the last couple weeks, everything has come together.  My training runs on the course kept getting faster, while feeling easier.  Tomorrow I'll run my second Dipsea, but first time out of the Invitational section. 

If you don't know about the Dipsea Race, it's very unique.  The time you start the race is based on your age/gender handicap, then you run approximately 7.5 miles with over 2000 feet up & down over treacherous terrain, then finish in Stinson Beach.  First person across the line wins.  People I normally don't compete against - particularly younger and older runners - become rivals thanks to the handicaps.  There's no age group awards, black t-shirts (with numbers) for the top 35 to finish.  I can't wait to try mine on!

The Road Mile

This morning I took a slight detour from my Dipsea training to run the San Rafael Road Mile - a new addition to the Pacific Association schedule.  I hadn't even committed myself to running this race until the night before, but figured what the heck, it would be fun to race my first mile since college, and it should be a good final sharpening for the Dipsea in a week. 

Before the race, I had NO IDEA what to expect.  I've become increasingly confident with my fitness over the past two weeks, but that fitness has been focused toward hilly trail running, not fast road racing.  I'd only run a small handful of track workouts since resuming my training in late April.  My only speed work at all was a set of 6x200 in 29-32 at the end of a workout. 

The course was slightly net downhill.  You start on a downslope, make two right turns as you pass the finish line at the 1/4 mark.  Then it is 3/8 (~600 meteres) on a gradual upslope, the a 180 degree turn and 3/8 of a mile downhill to the finish. 

I watched the masters race a half an hour before the open men's race, and noticed that most the runners were not dying at the finish.  I tweaked my strategy from "don't go out like a bat out of hell" to "don't go out like a bat out of hell, but don't be afraid to push hard to the top of the hill". 

As we started I jumped fast off the line, then told myself to stay composed on the downhill first quarter mile.  As we made the 2 right turns and headed back uphill, a few runners passed me - including Gus Gibbs & Alan Jackson of the Rebels.  But feeling good around 600 meters, I picked up my knees and tried to keep them in contact, as well as keeping my eyes on Todd Rose just head of them.  At the half mile mark, I'm still feeling good and kept pressing and moved around Alan with the turn around 200 meters away.  Before the race, I told myself to take that turn hard because it was likely to be a spot where tired runners would lose momentum.  As I banked into the 180 degree turn I almost ran right into the back of a Transports runner who sure enough had slowed around the turn.  If there was a spot of the race where I cost myself some time it was from the turn around until about 300 meters to go as I wasn't pressing the downhill hard enough.  Alan blew by me (triggering a memory of his decisive downhill move at the Humboldt Half Marathon), along with another runner.  Finally I told myself to go, and held my spot to the finish line.  Final time 4:30.

I don't think my time was a particularly grand performance, but I'm very happy with how I competed.  I finished right with a group of guys who beat me by 1-2 minutes at the 10K last weekend.  Overall it went surprisingly smoothly considering I hadn't raced the distance in 8 years.  Based on what the front runners ran, it seems like somewhat of a slow course will the hill and the turns. 

The Dipsea is 1 week away.  I'm ready & I'm excited!

Catching up

I have to say the 'ole blog has been suffering from some neglect considering it's been 5 weeks.  Fortunately it hasn't been a lack of running to report on, but rather a busy and tiring work schedule.  Our new business is off to a good start, and I'm very excited about my roll.  Of course if you've read the papers you know that the financial markets have been in a bit of turmoul this past month, as fears of a European meltdown have spilled all around the globe.  For a trader in my business, market volatility typically creates profitable opportunities.  But when you're dealing with potential events such as large as large sovereign debt defaults, the dreaded term contagion sneaks in - meaning fear in one market pours over to most others.  At a time like this diversification has little benefit because asset classes tend to become highly correlated, decoupling into risky assets - stocks, corporate bonds, energy & industrial commodities, and in this case even the Euro, and into non-risky assets - in this case US treasury bonds & at times gold.  With markets behaving badly, I've had to spend up to 10 hours a week longer at the office than normal evaluating and managing the risks in our portfolio.  But enough of the boring stuff, because luckily getting my evening runs and workouts has been a great unwind for me. 

On Saturday May 1st I saw one of the greatest distance running thrills of my life at the Cardinal Invitational at Stanford.  At this same meet in 2001 I was standing on the edge of the track when Meb Keflezhighi broke the American 10K record running 27:13.  On this Saturday, former Oregon runner Galen Rupp had his sights set on beating the 9 year old record.  Rupp - well more his coach Alberto Salazar - had created some controversy before the race as he wavered between running the Oregon relays the night before (which had a bad weather forcast), Stanford on Saturday (which had a severe polin count), or a last minute race set up just for him on Saturday in Eugene.  To the delight of Northern California residents, he chose to race at Stanford, joining one of the deepest 10K fields on US soil in years.  In addition to Rupp, collegiate 10K record holder Sam Chelenga, Kenyan Daniel Salel, Chris Solinsky, and behind them a who's who of US 10K studs were all running. 

After a conservative first lap, the race developed as expected with Rupp tucking in behind his 2 pace setters clicking off staggering 65 second laps (which was the record pace).  The group hit the 5K split in 13:34 - right on pace.  It was still the 2 pacesetters followed by Rupp, Chelenga, Salel, and Solinsky still tagging along for the ride.  By the 4 mile mark, the 2 pacesetters had dropped off, and Rupp chased after history with 3 runners still in tow.  Rupped stayed on pace at first, but as he neared the end of 5 miles, the pace fell a second or two off target.  At this point, I was debating with my buddies in the stands whether or not Rupp would get the record.  I still had faith thinking that with 4 runners still in contention that the final mile would be fast enough. 

With 4 laps to go, the crowd was suddenly buzzing about Chris Solinsky.  The 6'2", 160 pound runner (which is very large for an elite 10K runner) was making his debut at the distance and was looking completely comfortable at US record pace with a mile to go.  Chris had been a high school & college national champion.  He had been an elite post collegian, but not yet a national champion at that level.  With 3 laps to go, Solinksy surged past the 2 african runners and tucked in right behind Rupp.  Could he possibly be in contention for the win here???  Coming off the turn with 2 laps to go, Solinsky moves out on Rupp's shoulder and after a slight delay surges into the lead.  By the backstretch he had opened up 10 meters, with Rupp surging after him.  With 2 Americans flying through the night with 600 meters to go, we all knew the record would fall.  Solinsky hit the bell lap and the announcer calls out his split of 60.2 seconds - and he looked effortless doing it!  The clock read 26:03.  Now the real kick began.  The last time down the back stretch there was no question that he would win the race and break the record... only a question of what time would he run.  As he hit 200 meters to go, there was a new possibility, COULD HE BREAK 27 MINUTES??  In the last straightaway, Solinsky lifted his knees, pumped his arms, finally showed his first signs of fatigue, but never slowed.  He crossed the line freezing the clock at 26:59.60!!  I doubt there's ever been quite an eruption from the Cobb Track grandstands.  Gupp finished 4th in 27:10 - under the old American Record.

In the days following the race, bloggers and message board posters tried to accuse Rupp of bad sportsmanship somehow.  Both runners quickly put an end to it.  The race video clearly shows Rupp congratulating Solinsky.  You can't blame Rupp for not jumping up and down and celebrating, but he showed class afterward.  The next day, Solinsky gave Rupp credit for leading through the toughest part of the race, and acknowledged he wouldn't have broken the record otherwise.  Then later in the week in an interview Rupp conceded that he was of course disappointed, but happy for his buddy Chris (as they both run for Nike in the Portland area).  What a great time for US distance running with Ryan Hall, Meb, Dathan Ritzhenheim, Matt Tegencamp, Galen Rupp, and now Chris Solinsky running at a world class level. 

Here's a great video of the race - if you haven't seen it, I'd highly recommend watching at least the last mile of the Flotrack video (middle link at 22 minutes).  Note you'll have to let it load for a few minutes before jumping ahead.

http://www.letsrun.com/2010/solinskyvideo0502.php


On a slower note, my running is back on track after the sprained ankle.  I started jogging the last week of April, and was consistently training by mid may.  It was a struggle at first, but the past two weeks I've felt consistently strong.  I ran Bay to Breakers as a tempo hoping to still match last year's time (I fell about 20 seconds short running 42:08 for 12K).  Then this morning, I ran 33:45 for the Marin 10K.  My first thought was great, just ran the same crappy time as last year.  I was running good splits early on (10:25 at 2 miles and 15:50 at 3 miles), but slowed badly in the 2nd half.  But a few hours later I think that's somewhat encouraging I matched last year's time, since my training has been focused almost entirely on hill stregnth for the Dipsea.  Plus the morning was pretty warm by the end of the race. 

I'm feeling good about my chances at the Dipsea.  I think when I taper back, my crash course fitness plan will be well timed to win my first black t-shirt... and hopefully one with a low number on it :)

Here's a pic I took of the AR 10K race with 500 meters to go...

Cleared

I saw the doctor on Tuesday & we agreed it was time to start running!  I had spent 3 weeks on the sidelines with a sprained ankle.  During the time, I got on my road bike 4 - 5 days a week.  Some of my rides were really enjoyable, but overall it was tough to motivate.  It just take longer to workout, there's a equipment to deal with, and on top of that work has been busy - meaning a lot of 6am to 5pm days. 

The ankle is feeling almost 100% now after PT, icing, anti-inflams, etc...  I've run 3 times so for this week, and now the problem is getting my butt back in shape in time for the Dipsea.  I have a couple races in May, so I'll try the race my way back in shape strategy.  Mentally I just need to stay motivated and not let myself get frustrated that I've lost a lot of the fitness I built up year to date. 

Setback

I was heading out for 7-8 miles tonight, and running on a fairly flat section of trail, took a step and felt a POP on my right ankle.  I hadn't even taken a bad step but something got injured. 

I had a similar injury back in 2006 playing soccer (which was my sport for a while during my multi-year hiatus from competitive running).  The bit that concerns me, is that I sprained the exact same spot, and that it happened just taking a fairly normal step.  Throughout the past year, I've suspected that my right foot and ankle hadn't been as strong as my right because minor aches and pains kept popping up in different spots about 5 times as frequently on the right side as the left.  Also, my right ankle also looked more "puffy" than the left.  I figured I should have done some basic strengthening exercises, but blew them off.  It's tough trying to balance working 50 hours a week & running 50-60 miles.  After all that, I want to be able to spend time with my wife & and then see friends when I can.  I love running, but it's not the most important thing in my life anymore.  Tonight is a good reminder. 

Well, I guess I'll stop there.  I think I found the perspective I needed :)

Thanks to the nice lady who stopped her car when she saw be sitting on the ground by the trail 100 feet off the road!  I'm not sure what this does to my Spring training & racing.  I can't imagine I'll be running in the next week.  I just hope it's not several weeks.  75 days till the 100th Dipsea.  I'll be there & I'll find a way to be ready!

On The Track

On Friday I ran my first track race since I graduated from college in 2002!

I spent most of last week running easy, trying to shake off my lingering soreness from Sunady's 12K on the road.  I went back and forth on whether to race Friday, but my Thursday I said sore or not sore, it will be a fun experience. 

The San Francisco State University Distance Carnival started just 3 years ago with 4 events for athletes who did not get into Stanford Invitational later the same day.  By last year, this meet had grown to hundreds of athletes and a full day's worth of events.  The men's 5000 had 86 runners this year split between 3 heats.  It was a really low key event, but one that included very competitive races.

I was in the 2nd of 3 heats, which last year had finishing times from just under 15 minutes through the low 16's.  My plan was to shoot for 74 second laps (a 15:25 pace), while avoiding using up too much energy early on.  When the gun went off, I dropped toward the back, and found a spot on the rail by the end of the first lap.  There wasn't a clock at the start or the finish line, so I had to depend on various coaches yelling splits to runners around me.  I know I hit the first lap in 77 but then settled into 73-74 sec laps.  My calves were pretty much sore from the get go, as they had never fully recovered from Sunday's race, and I was wearing a pair of track spikes that have been sitting in my attic for years.  Other than the calves, I felt fairly comfortable through the first half of the race.  Around 2 miles, I started to slip back from the group I was runnign with.  I knew I was slowing down, but I just tried to dig in and make the most of it.  Those laps 3 laps hurt!!  Dana enjoyed the track environment & it was fun having her on the infield cheer for me. 

I crossed the line & really had no idea what my time was since I hadn't gotten any good split info the last few laps.  But I figured I was in the high 15's, and that was confirmed first off of a friend's watch, then the official results - 15:49.

I'm not as happy about this race as I was with the 12K Sunday, but I took 10 seconds off my post college PR for 5K, and it was my second PR in less than a week.  So based on that, I'm certainly not disappointed.  I'll have some more opportunities to lower my 5K time in April, so just need to keep it going!

Emerald Nuts and Blue Sky

Emerald Nuts

Yesterday I ran a 12K PR at the Emerald Nuts Across the Bay race from which runs from Sausalito, across the Golden Gate Bridge, and into San Francisco.  It felt great to get my racing season back on track after a really rough (i.e. slow and painful) 10 mile race a couple weeks earlier.

After Redding, I was struggling with my running confidence.  Some recent runs and workouts felt like a chore to get myself out the door.  Tuesday, I tried to fit my workout in between a busy day at work and a work dinner that night.  Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that when I rushed to log my primary workout of the week that I felt tight and tired.  That day I punted on what was to be 2-3 sets of 1000, 600, 300 meter cuts downs after the first 1000 & 600 to give another go the next day.  Wednesday I made it home from work, relaxed for an hour, then headed back into the park.  As I was driving in, I had a thought - what about a cross country style workout rather than hitting the track again?  Last fall I was focusing heavily on XC workouts, and I had some great road race results.  Then what would you know, as soon as I get to the park, I see that the track is closed, so I grabbed my flats, jogged down to the Golden Gate Park XC course, and ran 2 loops of the course as a 3 minute on, 2 minute off Fartlek.  It felt good to switch gears, running on the different parts of the course.  I was able to move fast during the 3 minute intervals without over-stressing my body.  I drove home with a smile on my face, all of a sudden enjoying myself again.  Although I didn't appreciate that somebody stole my trainers while I was working out in my flat!

Heading into the race, I finally felt confident in the training I've logged so far this year.  The course is a weird one as it's net downhill, but fairly challenging.  You start the race running downhill, then climb up a long steady hill in the 2nd half of the first mile to the GG Bridge west sidewalk.  Then once on the bridge the first half is a gradual climb due to the camber of the bridge, then you go back down.  After the bridge as you're approaching the 4M mark you have a downhill section, but with some sharp turns.  After that it's a few miles on the flats before one last moderate hill in the last half mile (with a sprinting downhill that leaves you less than 100 meters from the line.  My plan was to take it really easy at the beginning and wait until around 3 miles to start racing.

When the gun went off I was behind most of my teammates.  The pace felt very easy, but most the field wasn't too terribly far ahead.  When we started heading uphill, I told myself to relax.  I held my position on the first half, and just focused on a light relaxed stride the whole way up.  As we go to the Golden Gate Bridge sidewalk, I pulled up to a pack of teammates including Jonah & Chris (who would be first place masters runners).  I moved up a few spots with Chris, just gradually reeling in runners up ahead.  By halfway across the bridge I caught Alan Jackson of the Rebels, who always runs a smarts race.  We worked together reeling in more runners, and eventually pulled close to Todd Rose as we finished the downhill sections of the course.  I really didn't have much going through my head early in the race, but dug in and ran fairly aggressively in the 3rd and 4th miles.

Once we got to chrissy field, I threw a small surge as I was eager to catch up to Todd.  As I pulled right behind Todd, Alan kept surging and caught up to a group of mostly Aggies team runners just ahead.  Having a spent a lot of juice to pass numerous runners, I tucked in right behind, then along side of Todd as Alan pulled away.  I was breathing pretty hard, so couldn't say much more than "let's go" & he managed to grunt out "5:20 pace", which since I hadn't seen a mile marker yet, was good news.  Shortly after that I see a large road construction sign, which I realize wasn't a road construction sign, but the 5 mile mark.  I hit it around 26:30 (5:18 pace) & was pretty stoked to have a great race going both in terms of pace and position wise.  At this point Todd had opened a few seconds up, but I just kept my eyes on him and tried to reel him in.  While I lost just a second or two on him in the 6th mile (31:57) and 7th (~37:20) focusing on trying to reel him in kept me running a good pace.

Just after the 7th mile mark (with 0.45 miles to go) I hit the hill at Fort Mason.  It's steep for the first 50 meters then slowly levels out.  2 runners - JT Service (an Aggie) & Stephen Donohue (who was 9th overall in the Dipsea last year) passed me as I pretty much stumbled up the first part of the hill.  I told myself there was less than a half mile to go, and managed to keep Stephen fairly close.  I pulled even closer on the downhill then gave it a good hard kick to get around Stephen right after we rounded the last turn with a flat 100 meter finish.

It's funny that I finished 16th place in each of the first 2 PA races.  I would have so said no way I'd finish that poorly in Redding, and unlikely I'd run that well at this race!  I was definitely happy with both my place, and my time - especially given that it's a hilly course.  Last fall, I felt like I could run much faster than my old 12K pr of 41:54.  But saying "I just lowered my 12K PR by 2+ minutes" sounds a lot better than saying "I could lower my PR by 2+ minutes!"

Next up will either be the Zippy 5K, unless I jump into a track meet prior to that.

*This was taken as I'm rounding the final turn of the race.





















Blue Sky

Between all the running and skiing, my aviation pursuits had taken a back seat recently.  But after the race Sunday, I scheduled time with my instructor just to go for a flight.  The dual purpose was just a proficiency check since I hadn't flown in a few months, but we also decided to use it as my "bi-annual flight review", which is required every 2 years to keep your license active.  It felt great to get up in the air, and was happy that Bob (my instructor) had very little to comment on.  We flew through SF International airspace on the way out, and Oakland on the way back.  He had me execute a couple of steep turns - meaning a 360 degree turn to the right at a 45 degree bank, followed by the same thing to the left.  It's one of the required maneuvers for the private pilot checkride.  The key challenge is to maintain a steady airspeed and altitude.  I think I pulled off two of my best steep turns ever!  I look forward to flying much more often this Spring and Summer. 

I'll save my health care / Pelosi rant for another day...

Bouncing Back

Last Saturday I ran my first Pacific Association race of the year (and 2nd overall) at the NorCal 10 miler in Redding. I'll sum up my performance in 1 word - BLEH!

After a very consistent month of training in January, I had a disappointing day at my first race of the year - the Kaiser Half Marathon. Although I was excited to head to Redding in a month, I felt like I lacked a bit of direction in the week after Kaiser. But still - I had a great tempo run 4 days after that race, and was back to consistent training for the next few weeks. The only hitch to race prep was a ski trip to Big Sky, MT (getting back 3 days before). I wasn't worried. I would train hard before leaving the week before, then get some light turnover on the track the day I got back (which I felt good running 8x300 in 48-49).

The morning of the race, we woke up to surprisingly warm temperatures. I wouldn't say it ever got hot, but temps close to 70 degrees by the end of the race sure felt hot when I'd hadn't run in warmer than 60 degree whether since the fall. The race course runs out on a bike path along the Sacramento River in Redding, makes a loop through a neighborhood midway, then backtracks toward the start, and finally crossing a bridge and finishing on the other side of the river. It is pretty flat except for some rolling hills in the 3rd & 4th miles, which you hit on the way back in the 6th & 7th miles.

When the gun went off, Sergio Reyes (who ran 48-something for 10 miles last year) took off with 2 runners chasing him. I was part of the next chase group, including teammates Todd Rose & Julian Marsh, which hit the first mile in 5:19 & the 2nd in 5:30. The pace was no problem, and I was right on pace to run around 54 minutes. In the 3rd mile, Todd started surging through the series of hills. I backed off a bit, but hit 4 miles in 21:40 - still just over 54 min pace. But at this point, it was really starting to hurt, especially for so early in the race. It was hot, and I just couldn't find a good rhythm. As we headed into the neighborhood in the 5th mile, I just tried to focus my sight on Carlos Siqueiros up ahead of me. At that point 2 runners from the Strawberry Canyon club blew past me, and masters phenom Jim Sorenson caught me. I tried to relax & focus on a smooth stride to stay with Jim. I kept Jim in contact for several minutes, but every time I tried to relax & increase the pace, I quickly red-lined.

By mile 6, the wheels started coming off. Through the hills in the 7th and 8th miles, I hit both splits slower than 6 minutes. I slowed down to get a full drink of water at the last water stop and couldn't believe how thirsty I was. At least I dropped my pace back under 6 minutes for the last 3 miles, but I fell from 8th place at the 4 mile mark, to 16th at the finish. I'm glad I didn't realize that 48 year old Linda Summers-Smith was less than 30 seconds back, enroute to a new American age group record, because I probably would have gotten scared & run slower. Congrats to her for setting yet another age group record, as well as the women's course record. She also holds the course record for the next PA race on the schedule, which she set in 1995! My final result was 16th place in 56:54.

Shortly after the race I started getting the chills, despite the heat. I wasn't the only runner who struggled, as quite a few runners ran 1-2 minutes slower than they normally would (I was almost 4 minutes slower than my 10 mile split at the Humboldt Half Marathon). Among my buddies, Todd ran well, finishing 4th in 53:47, and Rebel's runner Mike Styczynski ran a PR for 5th in 53:52. Dana joined me for the trip, and although her longest recent run was 6 miles, she felt good over 10 miles, running 1:28. She's excited to use this as a kickstart for her running this Spring.

On the drive home, I had plenty of time to think about the race. If I came up with anything wrong I had done in training, I'd be completely nit-picking. I've run consistent mileage (most weeks between 55 and 65 miles), and gotten 2 solid workouts in every week without over doing it. Maybe I hadn't done a lot of race sharpening work, but that doesn't mean I was unprepared. Maybe I was a little run-down from having been at 8000 feet for 5 days the prior week, or maybe I had a low grade illness (I was feeling a bit "off" after work the day before). Or perhaps I was just unlucky that my 2 off days in 2010 happened to be my race days.

The only thing I can say I was doing wrong was to let a bit of anxiety sneak into some of my workouts & the races. I need to get back to my "just run" philosophy that treated me so well last Fall, and to enjoy the ability that God has given me.

I'll sign off by sharing something I read in Running Times which came in the mail today. Greg McMillan, who coaches several elite runners, including 2:10 marathoner Brett Gotcher, listed "The Five Habits of Highly Effective Runners" (with my own comments)

#1: Don't Dwell: The idea is to shake off bad workouts or races move forward. Every runner has a few bad ones every season, and the best runners drop them and move forward. Well... I know I just wrote a blog post about my crappy race, but hopefully the point comes across that my training is there, so I just need to keep it going. But I am the very analytical type, so this is hard for me sometimes.

#2: Fine Your Sweet Spot in Training: When I first read this, I thought it meant to train your strengths, but I was wrong. The idea is to train at a consistency where you advance your fitness, but not so hard that you struggle to get from workout to workout. This is one thing I have done very well recently.

#3: Focus on Consistency: I really think this is an extension of #2. Don't be a hero in one workout, then barely be able to run the rest of the week. Rather train in such a way where you're building momentum throughout the season.

#4: Be tenacious: I've summed this idea up several times by saying "just run". Being tenacious is important on many levels. You have to be tenacious throughout the grind of training, and over the miles of a race. I'm realizing that "just run" is really an abbreviation for "just keep running and stop thinking so damn much".

#5: Build Your Confidence Consistently: Trust your preparation!

Great points from someone who coaches some amazing runners!

The next race for me will be the Across the Bay 12K a week from Sunday.

Not My Day - Kaiser Recap

This morning I ran 1:13:13 for 9th place in the SF Kaiser Half Marathon. While I ran 3 minutes faster than last year, and had a decent place in a race with 7000 runners, I can't help but be disappointed. Heading into the race, I thought all signs pointed to a PR - good overall mileage, and consistently strong workouts in terms of pace and volume. But early on, as the race started to unfold, it just didn't seem like my day.

The plan was to pace ourselves at 5:20 per mile, with teammates James, Jonathan, Todd (who was just running the first half of the race), and I working together. The first mile in 5:20 didn't feel too bad, but then on a slight downhill we picked up the pace to 5:14. Even before the split it felt a little too fast, so I started to back off. Alone in 6th place now, I tried to keep a steady pace in the 3rd mile, while I watched a group of 4 pull away. I hit my 3rd mile in 5:21 (15:55 total), although I think the mile market was about 5 seconds too far forward. My 4th and 5th miles - still running alone - fell off badly in 5:38 & 5:40. In the 6th we headed downhill toward the ocean, and Todd fell back to run with me. I picked up the pace on the downhill (shocker), and averaged 5:23 for the next 3 miles. I went from struggling to pace myself alone after going out too fast, to feeling some serious tightness on the outside of my lower right leg, which radiated up to my hamstring. The pain wasn't terrible, but it was very distracting and made it that much harder to find a smooth stride and rhythm.

Around mile 7, we left Golden Gate Park, and headed for a roughly 3 miles out & 3 miles back section of the Great Highway along the Pacific Ocean. While it's a beautiful stretch, being able to see so far ahead with almost no scenery change, plus an almost guaranteed headwind one of the 2 directions, makes it a serious mental challenge. Todd dropped off around 7 miles, and said "find your rhythm" as I started down the Great Highway alone. I just tried to keep my sights set on James up ahead. From 7 miles to 9 miles, I barely ever took my eyes off his back. A 20 second deficit shrunk to 12 seconds, then finally to 6 right before we turned around. Miles 9 & 10 were in 11:02 to hit 10 miles in a respectable 54:29 (still under 1:12 pace).

On the run out on the Great Highway, I felt no wind, despite seeing the mile marker flags ripple in the wind. So sure enough at the turnaround just before the 10 mile mark, I felt the fierce wind that I would have to fight for 3 miles. I wish I could say I didn't give up at that point, but the numbers don't lie. My last 3.1 miles were run in 18:40 - slower than 6 minute pace. My legs felt completely dead & it was a struggle to keep a decent pace going. I lost two spots in the last 3 miles, but didn't put up any fight to stay with them.

I should be happy that on a day when nothing really went the right way for me, that I finished with a respectable half marathon time, and 9th place out of 7000 runners. But it was a tough one to swallow. I hadn't had a bad workout in 2010, and my bad day had to come on race day. Maybe I didn't back off enough on my training this past week. But I had trained pretty hard up to the Clarksburg 30K last fall, and that didn't bother me. Perhaps I was nervous leading up to it. But I felt pretty loose on race morning.

I think I have to just chalk it up to an off day. A runner's body is a fickle instrument. You train hard & smart to prepare yourself for race day. But despite your best efforts, every now and then it just doesn't come together. One thing I could control, that I should have done better, was to keep focused and pushing hard even when the day was going great. Being prepared is crucial, but you still have to fight during the race. On a day when you feel great, it's pretty easy, but the rest those days it takes a lot of toughness.

Next up will be the Redding 10 miler on March 6th. Until then, I'll keep the mileage rolling, the workouts strong, oh and make some good ski turns :) I'll be ready to roll in Redding!

The Monkey & The Hay

The Monkey

Is off my back. It was a small monkey, and I didn't exactly kick it to the ground, but it's off my back. Over the past year+ I've really struggled at the 5K distance. I would run fast in track workouts, then long at strong in race distances from 10 miles to 30K. But despite workouts pointing toward mid 15 minute 5K times, I couldn't seem run under 16 minutes for the life of me. I thought a 16:07 in the fall of 2008 (which was 4 days after a 6 mile XC race and 24 hours after a red-eye flight) would fall quickly in 2009. But sigh... despite improving at every other distance in 2009, I got slower at the 5K.

On Thursday night, I went down to the track on my own to run the workout the rest of the team had done Tuesday. It called for a 5000 meters at "hard tempo" pace (i.e. slightly slower than a 10K race pace), followed by a little bit more work at a faster pace. Based on recent workouts, I figured I'd go for 5:10 - 5:15 on the track for my fast tempo. Before the run I was a bit tired from some birthday celebrating (32 now!) the night before. Then when I got to the track, it was packed with joggers from local running groups. I basically almost talked myself out of the workout twice. But when I got running, 77 second laps felt pretty good. I tried not to focus on the distance and just run. My first two 1600 meter splits were 5:07 & 5:08. At that point I realized I was on pace to run right around 16 flat, so I looked at my watch with a lap to go, then picked it up to a 74 second last lap to run 15:59. I capped the workout off with 800 meters in 2:25 & 300 meters in 46 seconds.

Funny how it was it was a crowded Thursday night where I ran by myself to get that monkey off my back. Maybe 16 minutes had turned into a mental barrier, or maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself. Now hopefully I can knock some serious time off my new post college PR.

The Hay

Is in the barn. I just ran my last workout before the Kaiser Half Marathon. 3 x mile in 5:05, 5:03, 4:56, followed by a 2:20 800. The past month was the most consistent month of training that I've had. 270 miles total, with 2 solid workouts every week, my fastest 5K in 8+ years, and my best long tempo run. It time to taper this week, then see what I can do Sunday!

Next Runner In the Family

Here is my niece Callie along side my sister braving the cold to run a 5K! She ran her first one at age 6, and is now 7. I love the hat & gloves combo. Keep it up!

On Deck: SF Kaiser Half Marathon

When I first started showing up for West Valley track workouts in late 2007, I made a few rules about me being a “runner” again. 1) I would only run on days I felt like running. Or perhaps more accurately, I wouldn’t run if I really didn’t feel it. 2) Running wouldn’t get in the way of being social. 3) I would have fun.

At first I enjoyed showing up at the track & developing my speed again. But outside of Tuesday workouts, overall mileage was light, long runs were occasional, and secondary workouts were non-existent.

In 2008 I started racing again on a regular basis. My initial results were uninspiring (not like my recent results are either), but I raced my way back into shape and steadily improved. With each mini breakthrough, I saw the opportunity to improve aspects of my training. I also got a taste of that fire back!

Fast forward to now, and I’ve thrown rules #1 & #2 out the window. Last Sunday night, I drove back from skiing, rather tired, but still got myself out the door for 7.5 miles when I’d have preferred the TV & a beer. The Friday before that, I passed on a happy hour to make sure I got a secondary workout in the books.

The key – and I’ve talked about this frequently, is that I’ve stuck very true to #3. The West Valley crew is exactly the type of team I want to train and race with. We workout hard, but have a fun time doing it. Running doesn’t consume anybody’s life, but something we all love doing, and work hard at. I’ve also enjoyed running with and competing against runners from other teams.

If a runner can’t enjoy the grind of training, he’ll ultimately lose the focus and desire necessary to carry on. Races will become stressful rather than exciting. But if he can enjoy track workouts, tempo runs, hill workouts, regular runs, and long runs, then race day becomes a privilege where all the pieces come together.

While I there are days I won’t feel like running, but I’ll push myself out the door anyway, these days are the exception. Most days I’ve been excited to get out and run. Quite often I’m feeling good out on a run, and extending what would have been a 7-8 mile run into 9-10. Even with weekend ski trips, I’ve only missed 1 day (a well deserved day off) all month. I’ve averaged 59 miles the past 4 weeks. In workouts, I don’t feel a lot of speed right now, but my tempo runs and strength intervals have been very consistent with a lot of volume in the low 5 min / mile pace range. There hasn’t been a single workout that I feel like I’ve just crushed, but every single one has been solid.

My next race is the Kaiser Half Marathon in SF the morning of the Super Bowl (Feb 7th). I’ve been happy with my strength and volume, but just wasn’t sure if I was ready for the race until Monday night. Our top runner – Jonathan Charlesworth – decided to join me for a long tempo run. With Charlesworth tagging along, I knew the pace wouldn’t be slow. We immediately ran faster than the 5:25 pace I had planned, hitting the first 3 miles at 5:15 pace. I slowed down a little toward the end but finished 7.5 miles @ 5:23 pace. A week and a half before my 1:11:08 PR last fall, I ran an 8 mile tempo at 5:28 pace. I’m feeling ready for this race!

Now if I could only manage to run 5-flat pace for a 5K!