California International Marathon - Part 1 - The Race

If you had talked to me recently (or read my blog update), you might have known I was gearing up for my first marathon in 6 years.  I often like to write down what I was thinking and how I was feeling before a race, and similarly record my post-race reaction.  I want to circle back, and fill in that part, but since I have 26.2 miles to cover, I'll break with my normal practice and jump right into the race.

The background info I'll quickly note is when I signed up for the race my goal was 2:33 - 2:35 (5:50 - 5:55 pace).  After running most my "marathon pace" workouts in the low 5:40s, I was more optimistic, but still wanted a conservative race plan - to run the first half marathon in 1:16:00 - 1:17:00 (5:48 - 5:52 pace).

The race morning was much like my last marathon 6 years ago - clear skies, calm winds, but pretty chilly (in the high 30s).  Just after daylight broke, I found myself on the starting line with a pair of gloves and arm-warmers.  Even though this wasn't a Chicago Marathon type field, I knew there enough elite runners - particularly those gunning for their last chance to make the Olympic Trials next month - that I didn't need to be anywhere close to the front row.  I figured spotting some of my eventual competitors 10 seconds early on was easily worth the trade off of not getting sucked into way too fast of an early pace.

As the starting horn went off, and I cross the start line 3 seconds later, it just didn't feel like a race.  It felt like a long run with a ton of other people, just a bit faster than my normal everyday running pace.  I chatted with other runners I knew as we all settled into our paces.  Shortly after the start I saw a large pack of women who I figured were gunning for their Olympic trials standard of 2:46 (and sure enough quite of few of them nailed it).  As the first few miles are mostly downhill I eased into a smooth comfortable pace, and slowly moved forward in the large pack.  The first mile was 5:48.  I was almost relieved - I was going fast enough but not too fast!  The second split was 5:52.  I quickly questioned - was that too slow?  was that too much effort?  But just as quick, I shut the mental rambling off - I had well over 2 overs left to run, and I was still getting warmed up, and there would surely be a lot of ups and downs.

In the 3rd mile I definitely started to feel good.  I figured out pretty early in the race that I was going to run my own race, rather than try to key off other runners.  Mile 3 was 5:38 - faster than I should be running this early, but didn't concern me as we're still going downhill.  Now I'm reeling in a large pack that includes the 3 female leaders, plus a couple West Valley teammates who are shooting to run sub 2:30.  The 4th mile was 5:33.  WHOA BUDDY - CHILL OUT!  At this point I pretty much slam on the breaks.  The last mile felt totally relaxed, but I knew there was probably no better way to torpedo a good marathon opportunity than to run way too fast in the first quarter of the race.

From the 5th mile through the half way point, I established a really smooth consistent rhythm.  Through that stretch - every mile split was 5:42-5:44 (other than one 5:40).  I was doing exactly what I told myself not to do - running faster than the 1:16 pace I set as a speed limit, but it just felt too easy not to put myself in a position to possibly break 2:30.  The short uphills would strain my breathing ever so slightly, but it would quickly return to normal on the flat & downhill sections.  At some point - probably around 6 miles - I felt the first hint of lactic acid in my legs, but nothing to fear, it had to happen at some point.  I just focused on keeping a smooth relaxed stride.

The pack of runners who I almost caught in the 4th mile, remained 50 or meters ahead.  Right around the 9th mile I finally caught up to them, announcing my presence to teammates Jonah B. and Jason "The Rookie".  The Rookie let out an excited "Hey Gifford!" while Jonah said much more calmly "Jamey's going for it."  I really thought I would relax and just run with this pack for a while.  However, the pace I had settled into slowly eased me ahead of the group.  Just ahead, I caught the three lead woman - one American and two Africans.  There were a handful of bicycles riding along side along with a motorcycle cop.  It was unclear if they were on course support for the leaders or just interested spectators.  One of the bikes was almost blocking my path to a water station; I knew getting worked up would only take away energy I needed to run, so I just eased off for a couple strides and cut over.  Just before 11 miles I pulled ahead of the women, but didn't realize I was serving as their temporary rabbit until I heard some words in Swahili (I assumed) right behind me.  That was a new experience for me!

I hit the half marathon split - now just clear of the lead women - in 1:14:53.  So much for my planned pacing.  While I wouldn't call the effort really hard at this point, it definitely wasn't easy.  Mentally the first half of the race went by very quickly.  I knew the second half would be a lot harder.  Different parts of my legs and feet would ache, then go away.  I could deal with discomfort, I just didn't want to see anything turn into a muscle cramp.  The 15th and 16th miles were tough.  The mile 15 split was 5:52 - my first mile slower than 5:45 since the 2nd mile.  I'd lie if there wasn't a little concern that my early pace might be catching up with me.  Shortly after that, I hear footsteps behind - and it's The Rookie and Gus Gibbs (who had taken a pee stop) blowing past me as their running ~5:30 splits.  They invite me to jump on the train, but I'm not feeling it; I just need to keep my own race on track. 

After a rough couple miles, I hit the mile 16 with a 5:43 split.  I was back on pace.  I felt a big confidence boost.  Only 10 miles to go.  This might be the toughest 10 miles I'll run all year, but how many times have I run 10 miles the past 4 months (that was rhetorical)? 

From mile 16 - 20 it was back to focusing on a smooth stride.  My legs were hurting pretty consistently now, but I could deal with it.  I would see runners well ahead and slowly reel them in.  Mile 19 was my second fastest of the race in 5:37.  I started having visions of throwing the hammer down in the last 6 miles to put myself well under 2:30. 

The 20 mile mark was announced with a couple fake walls that you run between & a couple women dressed in grim reaper costumes.  I grabbed my last Gu gel, which just about made me barf.  After taking as much sports drink as I could, I figured I wouldn't need much more water.  Mile 21 was 5:43, but the legs were feeling really beat up.  The last hill of the course was the ramp to a bridge over the American River just before the 22 mark.  It's not a steep hill, but it HURTS at this point.  I tried to hold my pace up the ramp, but it hurt, and my legs never came back to me after that. 

The last four miles were rough.  I knew I was slowing down a little, but it was time to just grit it out.  Somehow I was still mostly passing people.  Miles 23 and 24 were both 5:53.  I'm slowing down, but the wheels aren't falling off.  With two miles to go a couple runners catch me, and I just try to latch on.  I'm even thinking I can find a gear and manage to run a couple fairly fast last miles.  But where the brain was willing the legs weren't.  Mile 25 was still a respectable 5:48, but then I just hit a level of pain I hadn't felt all race.  The 26th mile is a long straight shot down L street by the state capitol in Sacramento.  I keep looking ahead toward the first of two left turns before finishing right in front of the capitol.  As I look ahead it just doesn't seem to get closer.  Spectators cheer my effort, but as I grit I had to yell "let's go Gifford".  Somehow I thought I was thinking my finishing time might be 2:32, but that was clearly a lack of mental capacity late in the race. 

I hit the 26 split - 5:55 - my slowest of the race, but was elated I made the first left turn too see a race clock just over 2:30.  There was a huge crowd, and I made the final turn to the finish line with a huge smile on my face. 

The final time was 2:30:29!

I'll say more in part 2, but have to say a quick thanks to my wife Dana - of course for supporting my training, but for getting out on the course to cheer and support me.  Also to our coach Jack, for preparing us, and for great race day support as well.

Being the excel dork I am, here are a couple charts - the first with each mile split, and the second my projected finishing pace at each mile mark:

Finally - it was great to see little Jack at the finish line :)

PA Cross Country Championships

My life hasn't been all marathon training.  On November 20th, I laced up my spikes for one of my favorite annual races - the PA Cross Country Championships.  The race - 3 times around a hilly 2 mile loop in SF's Golden Gate Park.  It's a nice challenging race to cap off the cross country season, and fun to get all the club teams together in the same race. 

With rain falling for much of the week leading up, I knew it would be muddy one!  Here's a quick recap.

I have to say in all my years of cross country, that this was probably the sloppiest course that I have ever run on!  It was muddy last year, but my footing was firm enough with spikes on. This year I was sliding all over the place even with my spikes on.  After watching the men's master's race, I noticed there was a tight lead pack of 5-6 runners but after that the field spread out quickly.  In past PA Champs I liked to go out pretty conservatively on the first loop, then work my way up, but this year I was thinking "track position" (to use a NASCAR term) seemed pretty important.  I had confidence from my increased mileage and the longer tempo work from marathon training that I could hold on after a quicker early pace.  It was a weird experience to be within 5 seconds of teammate Neville Davey (who has won several PA races recently) & others at the mile mark, but a quick internal systems check told me the pace was ok.  I gave up a few positions at the end of the first loop as I let myself regroup, then started moving forward again at the bottom of the hill on the second loop.  Close to halfway the race seemed to be going by fast.  3 miles in I felt confident I could keep pressing hard without blowing up, so I made an effort to surge by any runners who appeared to be falling back.  On the 3rd and final loop I was battling with a strawberry canyon runner.  He opened a 5 second gap on the flat section by the polo field.  Up the last hill and down into the meadow I was reeling him in, but just ran out of room near the finish as he crossed 1 second in front. While this wasn't my best time ever on the course (I ran about a minute faster under dry conditions), I feel pretty good that this was my best effort of the 5 PA champs I've run.  Final results - 32nd place in 33:34 (6.1 miles)


It's now the day before CIM.  We're about to load up the car for Sacramento.  I'll check back in after the race!

Feeling the Marathon Groove

For most of my life, most of the people who have known me, know that I'm a runner.  And man, if I had a dollar for every time I heard:

How many marathons have you run?
Oh you so run a lot of marathons?
What's your fastest marathon?

I always kept a few snarky responses in my repitoir like "I like to run fast, not far" or "Oprah ran a marathon, real men run fast."  Usually I would be far more gracious and briefly explain how I like traing to get faster at shorter distances (as if running 5K's and 10K's makes me a sprinter).

In 2005 - when I was 3 years out of college, I felt like I needed a project outside of work.  It's not terribly far from the truth to say that I finally realized it would be less work to just go run a marathon rather than keep explaining why I've never run one.  I turned my 3 - 4 days a week of afternoon 4 or 5 mile runs into the same distance 5 days a week plus a weekend long run.  I showed up at the California International Marathon, and dispite some digestive complications ran a solid 2:43.  That 20 mile bonk never happened, in fact I didn't slow at all in the later miles, it just started to hurt worse and worse!

After that 2005 CIM I was excited to run another, but as other interests crept into my life, I was running less and less...  A few years later, I joined the West Valley Track Club & started training again, but I was having so much fun working on getting my speed back, that I never looked toward the 26.2 distance, at least not in the near term.

Heading into this fall's cross country season, I knew I needed more overall endurance.  The couple years I have been comfortable rolling on fast intervals on the track, but couldn't hold paces anywhere close during races of 5K and longer.  I always like hearing what elite runners have to about their races, and something that my college teammate Lauren Fleshman said really struck me.  Lauren finished a very impressive 7th at the World Championships 5,000 meter race, staying in contact with the leaders until 2 laps to go!  Afterward she was asked if she would work on her speed so that she could run a 60 second last lap like the best in the world could do.  Her response (paraphrased) - I've run 60 seconds at the end of a 5K before, but off a slower pace.  I don't need more speed, I need more strength so I can tap into my speed at the end of a fast pace like this. 

I had been realizing the same thing about my running.  All the track speed in the world won't help me run a 5K or 10K if the wheels are going to fall off after 10 minutes of hard running.  I also looked back at prior seasons and just saw myself taking way too many short cuts.  I needed that true pyramid style training program.  First build the volume, then the endurance, then after the foundation was in place start working on the higher quality work. 

Over the summer I looked to build my mileage to consistently be at 60-70 miles per week, with frequent tempo and progression runs, and finally long runs around 2 hours (~17 miles).  Other than occasional strides, I wasn't worried about tapping into speed and fast interval work until well after the cross country races started in late August.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had the thought - if everything goes well, let's look toward finally returning to the Cal International Marathon, 6 years later.

Building endurance (or as runners call it "strength") over sharpness worked well.  Out of the 6 PA cross country races I ran, I hit my fastest times ever on 4 of those courses.  In late September & early October, when it came time to add more race specific fitness, the workout paces felt fast, but I found myself just not getting as tired toward the end of workouts as I used to. 

Encouraged by my mileage, and the consistency of my longer workouts, I decided to pull the trigger and enter this year's CIM.  Still I felt the need to cap my training cycle with a good 3 weeks of high volume, and marathon specific workouts.  Over the previous three weeks, I hit weekly mileage over 70, and long runs of 20, 20, 23, 21 miles.  Toward the end of last week, the training was taking it's toll.  I was tired most the time, and ALWAYS sore.  I told my wife that I was loving the feeling of being fit, but really looking forward to starting my taper. 

Finally last Sunday, the last day of that three week (plus one day counting the previous week's long run) stretch, was the day to do my toughest marathon workout.  The idea was to run 8 miles, starting slow then progressing the pace, then finishing with 12 miles at marathon pace - targeting 5:50 to 5:55 per mile.  I woke up super early to eat so that I could start the workout at 7am - the time the race would be starting.  Sawyer Camp in San Mateo is a favorite place to work out with it's half mile distance markers and scenic views.  The first 8 miles went smoothly, I started at 7 min per mile and ended just over 6 min pace, averaging 6:25 / mile.  Back at the car I quickly changed to some lighter shoes, ate a gel, and headed out for the fun part.  The excitement got to me quickly as I rolled through the first mile in 5:35.  That was lesson 1 of what not to do in the race.  I settled down and then ran between 5:45 - 5:50 for the next 3 miles. I was going faster than I intended but felt comfortable enough.  Miles 5 and 6 were uphill, so I wasn't worred the pace was slower than 6:00.  At the turn around, I let gravity do the work running 5:25 and 5:30 for 7 & 8.  I knew the last 4 miles would be tough as I'd be tired and going from downhill to flat running again.  Regardless the pace never wavered as I hit splits of 5:34 - 5:38 for the last 4.  My average pace for the 12 miles was 5:43 pace - exactly 2:30 marathon pace! 

It's great when you have that one workout that gives you a huge confidence boost heding into a big race.  I was feeling the marathon groove.  The race is 15 days away, I'm ready to go!

What's new?

This little guy!

Jack Gifford was born on September 6th, and Dana & I have really been enjoying being a family now. 

So, I think I can be forgiven for not updating my blog in a while.  Right?  I've mostly used my blog as a platform to write about my training, racing, and recovering.  Before we had our baby, I talked to Dana about wanting to keep training.  I've found that I have to be much more efficient with my time (stretching, huh?) but after taking a consistent & balanced approach, I'm healthy and in as good of shape as I've been at any point since college. 

As if parenthood isn't enough of a challenge - and believe me it is - I've signed up for the California International Marathon on December 6th. 

I'm sure Jack will make occasional appearances here, but in the coming weeks (hopefully) Dana and I will set up a baby blog.  I love when people I don't know stumble across this blog, and take it as a very nice compliment to receive comments.  But in a crazy occupy this occupy that world, I think it's best to have a private blog if we're going to give info about the comings and goings of our family.  So, if you're a friend or family I'll be happy to give access once we set it up (you can email trackgiff@yahoo.com).

Finally - let's go Stanford & beat those Ducks!

NASCAR Chase to the Championship odds

Yes, when I started this blog, I threatened to write about NASCAR from time to time. Since it's been 2 years, I think it's time!

The NASCAR season is two races into its ten race Chase to the Championship playoff format. I've really enjoyed the season so far, with its multiple first time winners - starting with 20 year old Trevor Bayne's shocker at Daytona - and excellent feuds like Jimmie Johnson vs Kurt Busch.

So just before the green flag drops at race #3 Dover, here is how I see each of the 12 eligible drivers chances. (Drivers are listed in order of their current rank with # of points behind the leader. At each race 1 point is awarded for 43rd place, increasing 1 point per place up to 42 points for 2nd, and 47 points for the win).

Driver (Points back) Odds to win the Chase

#1 Tony Stewart (0) 12-1 odds
Stewart barely qualified for the Chase after struggling throughout the summer. Then he comes in and wins the first two races of the playoff to take the points lead and place himself well ahead of pre-chase favorites like Jimmie Johnson & Kyle Busch. I'm not convinced yet. Tony was very impressive the last two weeks, but on the whole it has still been a slightly better than mediocre year.

#2 Kevin Harvick (-7) 8-1 odds
I think Harvick will end up being a lot more dangerous in this Chase than Tony Stewart. Over the past few years Harvick has proven himself good at winning races he shouldn't have won. If he can win 2 or 3 races he'll be in a great spot. His weakness was his lack of consistency throughout the season. It only takes a couple mid pack finishes to put your championship dreams in jeopardy.

#3 Brad Keselowski (-11) 5-1 odds
In early July I wouldn't have even taken 5-1 odds on BK making the Chase. Then after improving throughout July, he won at Pocono, followed by a 2nd, then a 3rd, then another win at Bristol. In the last 8 races, his worst finish was 12th, and second worst finish was 6th. History would suggest his current streak has to cool off at some point. If he runs the next 8 races anywhere close to as well as the last 8, then he'll be hoisting the Sprint Cup trophy after the Homestead race, and there won't be anyone close to him.

#4 Carl Edwards (-14) 7-2 odds
Edwards is officially my favorite to win the Cup this year. He is tied for the most top 5's (13) and has more top 10's (19) than any other driver. Edwards will look forward to 4 more mile and a half tracks where he runs better than any other driver. His weakness is that he only has one win on the season. I'll say this - he won't win the championhip without winning at least one race - most likely at Kansas, Charlotte, or Texas.

#5 Jeff Gordon (-23) 8-1 odds
Gordon is the first of several contenders who dug himself into an early hole with a 24th place finish at Chicago. The 40 year old is far from out of it. He was run well, and he's been there before - it's just been been a while!

#6 Kyle Busch (-26) 10-1 odds
I've said it before, and I'll say it again - Kyle Busch is the most talented driver in NASCAR. He's still only 26 years old with 23 wins at the Cup level (not to mention a gazillion in the lower series). Kyle is tied for the most wins (4) and top 5's (13) this season. If Kyle does what he is best at - winning races - he will be the champion. His past weakness was a lack of maturity. He has to find a way to run well on those days when things aren't going right. He's gotten much better this year, and when he finally gets a full handle on his emotions, he'll be a multiple time Cup champion

#7 Matt Kenseth (-26) 20-1 odds
Kenseth is a past champion, but it was before NASCAR introduced the playoff format. He has had a solid year and will have a solid Chase, but unless several other drivers have a lot of bad luck, Kenseth won't be a real factor.

#8 Dale Earnhardt Jr. (-26) 100-1 odds
Dale Jr is that guy who almost everyone is pulling for. Early career success suggested he had the talent his dad did. Unfortunatley I think he's more like the next Kyle Petty. Making the Chase was a big improvement over prior years. The best they can hope for is to visit victory lane once this year.

#9 Kurt Busch (-28) 22-1 odds
Kurt (Kyle's older brother) is one of five past champions in the Chase. Earlier in the season he looked like a real contender, but has put himself in a tough spot after two races into the Chase. His only chance of getting back in this is to figure out what his teammate Brad Keselowski has done to run so well lately.

#10 Jimmie Johnson (-29)  7-1 odds
I can't believe JJ is sitting where he is. Two years ago I predicted he would win his 4th straight championship, and he did.  Last year I said his run was over, and I was wrong!  This year, I really think his reign is over, but his odds are still decent, because no other team can overcome adversity like the 48.

#11 Ryan Newman (-34)  200-1 odds
Newman's season was a big improvement over prior years, but he was never championship material even before falling way behind.  I expect him to just fall further back over the coming weeks.

#12 Denny Hamlin (-66)  125-1 odds
Last year Denny almost won the championship.  This year they have been terrible.  Well, maybe not terrible, but he was the last driver to make the chase, and after two bad runs has dug himself into a deeper hole.  If he wins at Taladega while the other 11 drivers crash, then he'll have a chance, but still not a good one.

We'll check back in late November and see how I did!

Dana's photo project

Last year I got Dana a cool camera for her birthday, then this Spring she was taking a series of photography classes.  Since opportunities to be a running model don't knock on my door very often (ok never), I was excited when she chose a pair of my running shoes for a class project (the Brooks T5 racers which I set my half marathon and 30K PRs if you have to know).  There were even a few picture of these shoes on my feet. 

2011 Dipsea

When I ran my first Dipsea Race in 2009, it quickly became my favorite race.  It wouldn’t be terribly inaccurate to say the Dipsea was my favorite race even first I toed the line that first year.  For a detailed description of the race & course, it's here recap from 2009 or 2010, but to summarize it:

• is the 2^nd oldest foot race in the US behind the Boston Marathon

• covers 7.5 miles from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach, CA climbing and descending over 2000 of elevation, up hundreds of steps, down hundreds of steps, long brutal climbs, steep dangerous descents, and even gives knowledgeable participants  opportunities to take shortcuts

• assigns each participant into 1 of 25 starting groups based on their age and gender, so that in theory the overall winner could be any age – a 33 year old runner such as myself starts 1 minute before the “scratch” group of 19-30 year old males, and 24 minutes after the first group to starts (consisting of the youngest and oldest runners)

• instead of awarding age group prizes, hands out 35 black numbered t-shirts to the first 35 runners (out of 1500) to cross the finish line (each having received their assigned handicap at the start) – I won my first black shirt last year by finishing 19^th

From my past two races, I had always wondered what it would be like to finish 36^th place – to miss the black t-shirts and participating in the award ceremony by one spot.  Sure it wouldn’t be anything like the anguish of finishing 4^th in the Olympic Trials, or being the last person to not qualify for the NCAA championships in a track race, but has to be disappointing nonetheless.  Hmmm… Glad I didn’t think about it too much…

Heading into the race, I was coming off a great season of training, but whether for reasons of over-training, or just peaking too early, I had just seemed to lose the snap in my stride for the month leading up to the race, and was struggling to recover between hard workouts.  But to make matters worse, I came down with a cold exactly a week before the race.  Lots of sleep, hydration, echinacea , and vitamin C just couldn’t shake it. 

Despite the setback, I drove to Mill Valley the morning of the race with a good attitude.  My prior goal of finishing in the top 10 would likely be out of reach, but I was extremely confident I could and would finish in the top 35 and win a black shirt.  Last year it took a time of approximately 54:30 (from my +1 minute starting group) to crack the shirts – and 54 flat would have won a shirt in each of the past 15 years.  Considering I ran 52:40 last year, and all my training indicated better fitness this year, I envisioned taking the race by feel, and if the cold was holding me back, just run a conservative race and shoot for 54 flat.  I could do this by running 30 seconds slower up and over the first climb to Muir Woods, 30 seconds slower up the big Cardiac Hill climb, then finally 20 seconds slower on the long decent (mostly) to the finish. 

As the gun went off, my legs were feeling heavy before we even hit the steps.  This is never a welcoming sign, but from my many many years of racing, I’ve learned that the way my legs feel – good or bad – can be very deceiving early in a race.  More important is how I’m breathing, and my lungs told me every was ok so far.  Up the first of 671 steps, I let 3 runners in my starting group charge ahead as I just searched for a rhythm that I could survive.  At the top of the stairs, when the course continued to climb up, I felt comfortable for the first time.  Before we crested, I had moved past quite a few runners who started before me, and caught one of the three guys who were ahead from my starting group.  On the first decent, I again just found a rhythm and tried to use my much improved downhill running skills to pass as many runners as I could.  “Suicide” – the steepest downhill on the course, was very congested, but I just kept yelling ON YOUR LEFT ON YOUR LEFT COMING THROUGH as loud as I could.  A couple of middle aged men really didn’t appreciate my aggressiveness, but since they had the option of taking the safer (and slightly longer) route, I really didn’t care.  Although if I had to do it over again, I probably wouldn’t have shouted back at one of the guys – that didn’t help keep me in my mental rhythm. 

At the bottom of suicide a weird thing happened.  Somehow I had expended too much energy on the downhill as I was suddenly taking fast, deep breaths.  This was NOT GOOD considering I had 20 minutes of climbing about to start.  I just tried to relax, and again get ready to find a rhythm as I cross through Miur Woods and up the hill. 

The base of the Cardiac Hill climb – a footbridge across a creek in Miur Woods – is always my first check point.  I clicked my watch in 15:30 which was nearly identical to last year – a big surprise to me – and 30 seconds faster than what was necessary to be guaranteed a black shirt. 

As I started up the climb, I knew I needed to run the first - a very steep – section conservatively so that I could be rolling during the less steep latter half.  Just as we start climbing my buddies and Pelican Inn teammates, Alex & Gus blow past me from the scratch group en route to them running the two fastest actual times of the day.  As I kept pressing up the hill, I knew I wasn’t running fast, but just couldn’t do anything about it.  On flatter sections when I tried to pick up the pace at all, I just felt myself red-lining quickly.  Two more runners from the scratch group went past me, but I was able to keep one slightly in sight. 

The section just before the top of Cardiac Hill is the steepest of the race.  I was so tired at this point, it took a serious effort just to keep my legs moving in a running motion.  My split for the climb was a very unimpressive 21:40.  In my mind I thought at 37 minutes I was still on my black shirt pace, but was really 10 seconds off pace now.  To put that split in perspective, I had run the double dipsea course in training a couple of months earlier, running that same climb in less than 21 minutes with Gus while chatting the whole way. 

On the gradual downhill that leads to the steep downhill, I was in thicker traffic than last year simply because I was further back in the field.  At this point I’m feeling achy & my head was swimming.  I kept pressing because I knew there would be some relief ahead as I started downhill, but it was tough to get myself rolling past runners.  One guy from the Pelican Inn crew who I passed here later told me that I just didn’t look right considering how slowly I pulled away from him after I passed. 

At the top of the swoop – the second of two steep downhills – an observer yelled out “70th!”  Oh man, that’s not good, I still have to pass 35 runners!  As I caught the first two runners in the swoop I had a hard time getting past – but then I realized I had no time to waste.  I started yelling loud as I approached people – LEFT, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT – and pretty much dove for whichever side of the trail they were leaning away from.  I passed a buddy , Chris Knorzer, there who later posted on my facebook page “When you passed me there I thought you were about to get planted in the bushes, but I got swooped, nice job.”  I got back in a rhythm finally passing runners quickly down the swoop, then the steps of steep ravine.  I passed last year’s winner, now 9 year old, Reilly Johnson who must have found even worse struggles than me on the course, and offered a quick LET’S GO REILLY.  At the bottom of Insult Hill a course worker yelled out 45^TH!  Ok, 10 runners to pass with just over a mile to go, I can do this.  I caught two runners as we pushed up insult – 44^th, 43^rd.  Again the dead legs hit me going up the last hill, but I was going to collapse before I gave up.  By the top of the hill I was up to 41^st.  We hit a short section of Panoramic Highway, passed one runner heading down the road – 40^th – and a second just before plunging back on a narrow single track trail – 39^th.  I squeezed past two more runners, the second was 72 year old Russ Kieran who’s amazing record streak of 15 straight black t-shirts would end this year – 37^th.  Now feeling much better about sneaking into the stop 35, I’m looking up ahead for the next runner, and no one is there.  Finally after what seemed like minutes, I blow past another runner - 36^th.  Just before we leave the trail for the last time some yells “36^th, 35^th IS 20 SECONDS AHEAD.”  With 1/3 of a mile to go, this was very bad news, but I had no idea who this runner was.  If it was someone from the 2 minute headstart group, I had almost no chance of catching him, but if it was someone from the 25 minute headstart group, I would almost certainly catch him/her.  Also, they could have grossly misestimated.  But no time to think about any of this… only time to kick!

I came onto the road for the last time, and finally saw 35^th place WAY up ahead.  It seemed impossible, but with a mostly downhill last third of a mile, I just started kicking.  The runner disappeared around a bend, then when he came back in sight it still seemed impossible, so I did the only thing I could do – kept kicking.  I kept digging deeper and deeper trying to claim every drop out of the well.  The runner was now getting within reach, but the finish line was flying toward me even faster.  I never gave up until I saw his body cross the finish line, and at that point my momentum took me across the line only 1 second behind him in 36th place.  My time was 54:15 - which was 15 seconds off the time I thought would guarantee a black shirt.

When I crossed the line, I heard someone say my name, but I never took my eyes off my adversary – who I learned was 46 year old Thomas Iseler.  I extended my hand, told him great job, and that I had given it my all in trying to catch him.  Thomas told me it was his first black shirt in several tries, so surely we was experiencing the same thrill I did last year.  As he patted my shoulder, I saw a photographer run up and snap a couple shots.  Leaving the shoot a reporter from the local Marin IJ newspaper came up to me for some quotes – I guess we weren’t the only two who were aware of the finishing battle. 

The paper covers the race extensively and even ran a short column on our battle for the final black t-shirt:

Dipsea:  Isener earns final black shirt by holding off storming Gifford

Later this video was posted on youtube.  You see Iseler hit the road for the final time 6 minutes into the video.  I was 25 seconds back with a third of a mile to go.  I made up 24 seconds – tough luck!

The day wasn’t a total bummer by any stretch.  Our team for the Dipsea – the Pelican Inn Track Club – which is the fantastic group of both young and old runners that I have trained with the past three years, became the first team to beat the Tamalpa Runners for the team title in 35 years.  While I wasn’t one of the top five runners to score, I felt very much a part of it.  For many years Tamalpa’s team title was a formality, until the PITC entered as a team last year.  In 2010, I was the 5^th scoring runner for the squad, but we just missed winning.  When they announced us as the winners it sounded like a funeral, except for our cheer, but we enjoyed the celebratory beers!

While last year’s winner was 8 year old Reilly Johnson, this year’s winner came from a Dipsea veteran.  60 year old Jamie Rivers was a prior champion – winning in 2007, and she is married to 2008 winner Roy Rivers.  I’ve learned many things about the race, and received great encouragement from both runners.  I was very happy to see Jamie win the race this year.  Last year she suffered a hamstring injury during the race, but still cheered on other runners as she hobbled to the finish.  Jamie’s training had gone flawlessly this Spring, and on raceday no one would catch her. 

When I drove home I felt pretty bummed out about finishing one spot out of the awards – how could I not?  At one point I started thinking about spots in the race where maybe I could have made up tiny bits of time to put me one place forward.  But I quickly stopped myself.  I was dealt a crummy hand, and I truly believe I made the most of it.  I ran myself into the ground at the finish, and almost came out with something special.  Looking back at the first half of 2011, would I do anything that differently?   Probably not…   Running is a tough sport sometimes.  You have days you feel great, and days you don’t.  The same extends to weeks, months, even seasons.  Finishing 36^th really put in perspective how amazing Russ Kiernan’s 30 black t-shirts are.  Next year I’ll be back for my 2^nd!

*That's how close I was!

Ready or Not - It's Go-Time!

My favorite race of the year is here.  It's time for the 101st Dipsea Race tomorrow.  Heading in last year, I was just recovering from an injury, but managed to train very hard for a month, then put together a solid performance for my first black t-shirt in 19th place.  My training throughout 2011 has been great.  I've run more mileage and had stronger workouts leading up to the race than the prior two years, and even more importantly I've gone 9 whole months without any sort of injury.  Still, my running confidence has struggled the past couple months.  In April, a pesky cold slowed my training down for a couple weeks.  When finally recovered, I had a great string of workouts, only to push myself too hard, and suffer from the effects of overtraining throughout much of May.  Finally the past few weeks I've managed to feel strong at times by drastically cutting my mileage, and running much easier on days between workouts.  Then after a decent road mile race - running a somewhat hilly 4:35 - I came down with another cold.  So this week has seen a lot of vitamin C, sleep, and mostly easy running, but still not feeling 100%.  Tomorrow morning I'll head to the starting line knowing I have a great fitness base with a balance of speed, strength running, and anaerobic work (very key for that painful 20 min climb up Cardiac Hill).  I'll be well rested, so the key is to listen to my body early on, and just stay tough until I cross the finish line. 

Local newspapers have posted quite a few interesting profiles on runners leading up to the race.  There are several people running in honor of family members and a former inmate whose running is a key part of his rehabilitation.  My buddy Alex Varner talks about what it would take for a "scratch" runner (the male 19-30 age group that gets zero head start) to win.  I'll note Alex is an overwhelming favorite to win his 3rd straight fastest time trophy; it's just a matter of how much time he can make up on the older and younger runners who start well ahead of him.  Finally, 9 year old Reilly Johnson - the youngest ever defending champion - has been in the spotlight leading up to the race.  Last year's maximum 25 minute start is reduced to 19 minutes - 5 minutes for her age plus a 1 minute "winners penalty".  I saw her out on the course a few weeks looking pretty darn strong.  My prediction is that she'll make up 4 or those minutes, but she surprised everyone last year, so who's to say she can't do it again!  Maybe I'll pull off a miracle and catch her on the course, but I'll confess - I'm pretty intimidated by a 9 year old girl :)

The 100th Bay to Breakers

I realized that I've never written about one of my favorite races - Bay to Breakers, plus I've yet to write a race recap within a week of the actual race, so why not do both!

To call Bay to Breakers a race, is a huge understatement.  It's a spectacle - from the first man or woman to cross the finish line, to the last drunken yuppie to stagger home.  The race was first held as the Cross City Race in 1912 as the city was still rebuilding after the Great 1906 Earthquake.  A local college student ran the 7+ mile course from downtown (near the Bay) to Ocean Beach in 44:10.  What started as a morale booster for the city never stopped, and the race now known as Bay to Breakers was set for its 100th running this past Sunday.

Why is it a spectacle?  Let's start at the front and work back.  The race attracts some of the very top road racers in the world.  The elite woman get a 4 minute headstart on the elite men and the rest of the field, then the first person to cross the finish line - be it the winning male or female - pockets $25,000.  There is also a $5,000 bonus for the first runner to crest the long & steep Hayes St. Hill in the 3rd mile of the 12K.  Behind the elites is a very unique competition - the centipede.  Numerous teams will enter 'pedes which consist of 13 runners tethered together with some sort of bungee chords.  Sound crazy?  Well over the years, the centipede race has turned into a heated rivalry between two Bay Area clubs - the Aggies and Transports (the latter now sponsored by Linked-In & featuring some serious ringers).  This year the Linked-In centipede covered the 12K course in 37:00 which averages under 5 minutes per mile!  That's a good performance on a hilly course for one person, but imagine doing that while being tied to 12 other people.  I could tell some stories of past centipedes blowing up in spectacular fashion (as certain runners are dragged - one time literally - out out too fast), but I'll save it for another time.  After all the elites, the 'pedes, and guys like me, there's 50,000 total registered runners and walkers.  THEN, the real fun begins, with what seems like the rest of the city turning Bay to Breakers into the largest outdoor drinking and costume party of the year. 

I was lining up for my first race in three weeks - after running my 4th and final crappy 5K of the season.  Even though I spent much time on the track throughout the spring, I figured my mileage should have me prepared for a longer race like this.  The only catch is my legs had been super tired for the past week and a half after a super intense week of training leading up to that (including a nearly 2 hour long run on snowy cross country ski trails at 8000 feet).  After taking a really easy week, I was finally feeling ok for race day. 

My plan was to run well under control for the first two miles, run steady but not too hard up and down the Hayes Street hill, then really start pushing the 4th and 5th miles which are slightly uphill, and just get ready to hammer the 2 mile downhill to the finish.  In the first mile I ran a little faster than I wanted - 5:18, but backing off a bit in the second mile (5:32) kept it under control.  I eased into the hill, keeping a smooth stride without losing too much ground as I ran up and back down.  I turned onto the Pan-Handle hitting 3 miles in 17:08.  That 3rd mile is always slow, but I ran a little slower than I intended, but no big deal, I was feeling good and it's time to really start racing.  Last year, I held my position from the 3 mile mark to the finishing stretch, but this time I was focused on moving up.  I immediately caught two runners and passed them, then focused ahead.  Whenever I could, I wouldn't focus on the runner ahead, rather two spots ahead - which helps from getting lulled into the pace of a racer who could be falling off the pace himself.  In the 4th mile (5:38 for a gradual uphill) and the 5th (rolling - 5:31), I picked up at least a half dozen positions.  Then just as I'm getting toward the 5 mile mark, my calves and lower legs start to really cramp up.  I pressed my pace to the top of the downhill, but just didn't feel like a good idea to hammer the downhill and risk injury.  I gave back a few places as I passed through 6 & 7 miles (5:19 and 5:25 pace), then held my position to the finish along the great highway at Ocean Beach to finish 58th overall in 41:30, and 5th place in the male 30-39 age group (which to be fair does NOT include elites). 

I wasn't thrilled with my overall time, but I think there were some very positive takeaways.  First of all, I ran confidently, was tough when I needed to me, and stayed focused throughout.  I had lacked all of those in recent races.  The time easily could have been 30-45 seconds faster if I had been able to roll on the downhill 6th and 7th miles.  Despite my disappointment with the pace, it's still my fastest time in three races there.  Finally, in celebration of the 100th running, the race promoters announced that anybody who beat the winning time of 44:10 from the 1st Bay to Breakers would have their race number retired.  So go ahead and hang #312 from the rafters because no one will wear it again at Bay to Breakers!  Supposebly.

After I cooled down, got back to my car near the start, drove around town, and had brunch at a buddy's house, I walked down to the Pan-Handle to take in the festivities.  Despite claims that alcohol and unregistered walkers wouldn't be allowed on the course, the party was going strong.  It was just slightly more respectful of the neighbors than prior years. 

If you want to see some good pics, there is a great slideshow that the SF Chronicle put together.  Two of my friends made the reel - one who ran 5:30 pace dressed as Giants pitcher Tim Lincecum, and another dress as well some sort of cop.

Here's the link to the full slideshow:

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/article?f=/c/a/2011/05/15/MNJS1JGGTS.DTL&object=%2Fc%2Fpictures%2F2011%2F05%2F15%2Fba-baytobreakers_0503470795.jpg

The Nemesis

My nemesis hasn't been a person (but wouldn't that be fun), or a certain race course, or a workout.  My nemesis is the 5K.  A couple months after I first started showing up at West Valley TC workouts and slowly fighting my way back into shape, I ran my first race - a 5K in 16:29.  A year later, at the end of my first full season of consistent training in several years, I ran the second 5K of my age 30+ competitive career - finishing in 16:07. 

In two and a half years since that race, I've knocked 4 minutes off my best half marathon, run over a minute faster on a several cross country courses, plus trained faster, longer, and more consistently.  Yet despite all that, I can't seem to clock a good 5K.

My best was a 15:49 on the track in the Spring of 2010, but other than that it's just been a long string of blowups in the low to mid 16's. 

Heading into 2011, my goal was to focus my training around running a good 5K.  Being just fast enough to jump in college open meets, there are several opportunities to race the distance.  Surely just more time on the track would lead me to a sub 15:30 (that magical 5-flat per mile pace).  Throughout the winter I worked my mileage up to a an average of 60 miles per week - which I've held all year.  Our Tuesday workouts first featured longer intervals at hard tempo pace - which I'd often run 5:15 pace, then transitioned to faster somewhat shorter interval workouts.  Week after week I would run 3 - 4 miles of repeats, all between 71 - 75 second per laps.  One workout in particular, I ran 5 times 1000 meters averaging 3:02 - 15:10 5K pace.  I didn't think I'd hold that pace running each kilometer back to back, but surely everything pointed toward me running 15:30!

My first shot was the Hornet Invite - an open college meet at Sacramento State (the track where I ran my lifetime 1500 PR back in 2000).  Throughout the week, the forecast got worse and worse, and sure enough the morning of the race had a steady rain and 25-30 mph winds blowing right through the stadium.  I hit the split right around 5 flat with the leader, but as soon as it strung out, it got ugly.  In the second half I was red-lining pretty much every lap by the end of the front stretch, only to recover on the back stretch just in time to hit the wind again.  My splits got slower and slower, and I finished with an ugly 16:32. 

The next 5K, which was the one I really had circled on the calendar, was the SF State Distance Carnival.  It's a meet with deep, fast fields, at a great venue - I bet this is the least windy track in the Bay Area.  For some reason on race-day my mind was in the wrong place.  I knew my training was going great, so I had no reason not to have confidence.  Instead, I kept thinking of every way I could have a bad race.  I wasn't thinking about crushing the race, I was thinking about not having a bad race.  It was like I was battling all demons that plagued my performances for much my college career.  I raced the slowest of 3 heats, but with a group that would be running in the mid 15 minute range.  The pace was perfect - we were clicking off 74-75 second laps, hitting the mile just under 5 minutes.  I hit half way thinking this is going well, but a lap later the pain really hit & I just wanted to quit.  I hit 2 miles in 10:07, then 3 miles in 15:28, finishing in 16:04.  This was the first race in a long time where I was really beating myself up for a while afterward - just felt like a wasted opportunity. 

The 3rd race was the Carlsbad 5000 (near San Diego) with my West Valley teammates where I would run in an age group 30-39 race (no young guns!).  It was a fun trip, even though Southwest canceled our flight getting us in pretty late.  I went out conservatively, but still found myself right in the thick of a chase pack that let lead 3 runners go.  I moved myself toward the front, again hitting the mile right around 5 flat.  I felt great for the first part of the second mile, thinking this was my day.  I led the chase pack shortly after the mile.  Then for the third week in a row, things went south quickly.  A couple guys passed me, then 3 more went by.  I went from leading the chase pack to trying to hang on.  I hit the 2 mile mark in 10:15 - REALLY I just slowed down that much??  I don't think I totally gave up in the last mile, but surely wasn't digging deep as I ran the last mile in a pathetic 5:30 for a finishing time of 16:18.  On a positive note, watching the elite race was AWESOME as former 5K world champ Eliud Kipchoge got kicked down at the finish (13:10 was the winning time).

So there you have it.  My big goal for the season has been an epic failure so far.  Training has been an ongoing success.  So what gives?  I wish I had an easy answer...  I think mentally I've gotten so used to underperforming at this distance that it's turned into a self fulfilling prophecy.  For most of my good races I was there with my buddies, having a good time, and feeling loose before the race.  Lately I'm analysing my race before it even starts.  Physically, it's a tough distance.  It always starts hurting pretty bad about half way, when you still have 7 minutes of hard painful running to go.  When building up my speed and fitness, I need to run my workouts under control in order to benefit from consistency.  But I think I really need to push the envelope every few workouts, otherwise I won't know how to dig deep into the well on race day.  Finally, the workout that's been missing is the fast tempo (as opposed to the longer half marathon pace runs).

So how does this end?  I really don't know.  I just know I'm not ready to say "I'm too old for the 5K" and throw in the towel in favor of longer distances!

Another Interview: Tennesse Running

In the San Francisco Bay Area I'm just another sorta fast guy trying to stay within sight of some real elites.  But I was fortunate enough to have a successful high school career in Tennessee where I was also competitive on the national scene.  That fact that I got to do a couple of interviews on the internet this past year, is certainly not the result of anything I've accomplished recently (as in the past decade). 

Dave Milner - who is a buddy of my high school teammate Jeff Edmonds - edits tnrunning.com, a website reporting on runners who live in Tennessee or originally hail from there.  I'm a little embarrassed to see my name up there with Phoebe Write and Andrew Bumbalough, who are both developing into full blown world class runners.  That said, I appreciate Dave sending me some questions, and reporting on what this has-been has been up to!

http://www.tnrunning.com/interviews/where_are_they_now/Gifford-Feb11.html

Interview on The Logic of Long Distance

I meant to write this post two months ago... after I knocked off one or two items on my blogging to-do list.  But since my recent thoughts have been making their way onto the web 2.0, I realized it's time to post this.

I met Jeff Edmonds when I showed up for the first cross country practice as a 7th grader at Baylor (high school).  At the time he was the captain and lead runner of our Jr High squad, and I was the newbie.  Over the next four years, we were teammates, friends, and at times rivals.  Jeff was the guy I chased in practice as I was getting faster and learning how to be a runner.  When I was fast enough to actually train with him our workouts, and even our normal runs could get intense, because neither of us liked to ever back down!

Jeff graduated two years ahead of me, but we both experienced high school success, followed by the ups and downs of college running.  After college we found ourselves focusing on our career, and in his case, educational goals (Jeff earned PhD in philosophy two years ago).  Right around the time we each turned 30, we started lacing our shoes up more often, and both found ourselves cranking out the miles and racing again.  I don't get to see Jeff very often - living on opposite sides of the country - but we've really enjoyed sharing our experiences and refound passion for distance running over the past few years.

Jeff has a very cool blog - The Logic of Long Distance.  He combines two of his passions - running and philosophy - into a single forum.  Often he'll discribe the triumphs and frustrations of his own running through the thoughts & writings of other philosophers. 

Another feature of his blog is to interview runners non-professional runners who are still out there training hard trying to run fast.  Jeff acted like I was doing him a favor by answering his questions, but he was the one doing me a favor.  I had a lot of fun thinking back over my high school, college, and current careers, and putting my thoughts in worlds.  I think in times when I get stuck in a rut with my training or racing, it's good to go back and see what I was doing and what mindset helped me run fast in the past. 

I'm not posting the intereview here, because I'd encourage you to check out The Logic of Long Distance if you've never done so before.

http://thelogicoflongdistance.blogspot.com/2011/01/interview-jamey-gifford.html

Winter Training and the Redding 10 Miler

Winter time is the perfect season for building a mileage base.  After a break from the fall cross country and road racing season, it's time to re-charge and start building that endurance up with long runs, workouts, and overall mileage.  However the season comes with challenges like shorter days and bad weather (of course if rarely gets worse than rain and 50 degrees in the Bay Area).  In my case, I also have to balance training with my skiing habit as we head up to Kirkwood to hit the slopes most weekends this time of year.  I do have access to a treadmill up there, and if it's not dumping snow (which it often is) I can get out on the roads for a run, but that's assuming I'm not completely trashed from a long day of skiing.  This winter, instead of trying to force myself to log decent mileage before heading out to ski, or worse after skiing, I decided to shift from being a weekend warrior to a week day warrior!

Without having the weekends to log long runs and workouts, I had to be disciplined about scheduling a primary workout, long run, and secondary workout on the week days.  This usually meant Tuesday workout, Wednesday long run, then Friday secondary workout.  Once I got in the routine, my training really built on itself and everything fell into place.  I ran my first 60 mile week in almost a year in mid January, then proceeded to run at least 60 for six out of seven weeks through the end of February (60, 65, 61, 71, 70, 50, 66).  My workouts - which were mostly on the track - included a mix of longer, steady pace type intervals, 5k pace work, and even some speed.  My legs didn't feel fresh for a lot of the workouts, but I almost always felt strong.  There were a couple workouts where I felt really tired early on, but I could drop shoulders, relax my stride, and still make a quality session out of it. 

I decided my focus for the upcoming season would be the 5k distance.  That didn't mean I wouldn't race longer distances, but last year lacked a big picture as I tried to cater toward too many individual races and distances.  Does running higher mileage to focus on a shorter distance seem contradictory?  Not necessarily...  My view is running better mileage (which still isn't "high mileage" in the grand scheme of things), will get me through longer workouts at a quality pace, which will ultimately allow me to handle faster paces into the 3rd mile of the 5k. 

Before the 5k races cranked up, I headed up to Redding to run the first PA race of the season - the NorCal 10 miler.  Normally I'd approach a 10 mile race much like a half marathon - good overall mileage (check), consistent long runs (check), and long tempo runs (somewhat missing in favor of more time on the track).  Even if training wasn't focused on this distance, I felt confident that my strength could translate into a solid race.  I allowed myself an easier week - even without the race, it's not a terrible idea to get my legs back under me every so often. 

The plan for the 10 mile race was to hang back and run comfortably for 4 miles, then try to start moving my way up after that.  I also decided that I wasn't going to look at my splits until at least half way through the race.  I figured at this point knowing my splits would either psych me out if I was too fast, or psych me out if I was too slow. 

As the race got underway there was a lead pack, then a few stragglers (including a couple teammates), then I was in the first chase pack.  I fought the urge to jostle or surge by telling myself to relax.   The first 3 miles were pretty uneventful.  Looking at splits wasn't even an issue because the first mile marker we saw was the 5th.  Somewhere around mile 3 I was pulling away from most the guys in my initial pack as I caught up with teammate Jonah, and close to teammate Matt.  In the 5th mile as we left the bike trail to loop through a neighborhood, I tried to reel in Mike from the River City Rebels and two guys he was running with less than 5 seconds ahead.  A slight attempt at a surge sent me from feeling pretty good, to feeling tired for the first time.  Shortly after that, they started to slip away, and Jonah caught back up with me.  At the 5 mile mark, I decided not to look at my watch - since I was starting to hurt but had someone to run w/, although did click the split button to look at after the race (27:16 at 5 miles).  The 6th mile included the roller coaster hills that we hit on the way out.  I stayed with Jonah, though a couple times using the downhills to surge and catch up.  The hills ended just before the 7 mile mark, but I was pretty stretched at that point and Jonah started to pull away.  In the 8th mile I just tried to keep Jonah from pulling further away.  At the 8 mile mark, I finally looked at my watch for the first time - 44:15.  I was a little disappointed to be just over 5:30 pace, but knew I needed to push harder to maintain that average pace.  It was really hurting now, and I hit 9 miles at 49:52 - 5:37 for that mile.  As the bridge we would cross to the finish got closer, Jonah had slipped too far away to have a shot.  Then just before the bridge, I heard the one thing I didn't want to hear - footsteps.  I was hurting, and had faith in my ability to kick, but didn't want it to come to that.  I surged up the very slight slope onto the bridge.  I was fully expecting to die toward the end of the bridge, but at that point there would be less than 200 meters to go, including an 180 degree turn, followed by a 90 degree turn.  My pursuer had friends cheering for him, but I used it as motivation.  Sure enough I was out of gas coming off the bridge, but got ready for one last kick just in case.  I never needed it, as my move over the bridge opened the gap back up.  I crossed the line in 55:16 for 13th place.  My last mile was 5:23 - nothing amazing, but happy I was tough to suck it up when I was really hurting. 

Splits were 27:16 for the first 5, then 5:42 (hilly), 5:33, 5:42, 5:37, 5:23.

Heading in I had hoped to run around 54 minutes, which was my split during my half marathon PR. Even falling short of my pre-race goal, it was a solid race on a tough course.  I think I had several chances to pack it in during the 2nd half, but kept pressing.  Even though I've had a faster 10 mile split, it's a PR for an actual 10 mile race, so have to be happy with that.  Plus it's nice to run a race for the 3rd year in a road and clock my fastest time. 

Next race will be a track 5K - possibly in 2 weeks, and definitely one in 3 weeks.  Back to the track to work on that speed!

Training and Racing - Thoughts from 2010

I think I’ve set a new pr for a belated blog post – reviewing last year 44 days into the new year. I think handful of short paragraphs would be more appropriate than a long essay.

In 2010 I ran less, ran fewer miles, raced less, and was overall slower than 2009. While none of that is positive, I did have some good moments, learned some valuable lessons, and finished the year on the right track.

Looking back at most of 2010, my training was hot & cold. At times I was pushing my training too hard, and other times cutting corners when what I really needed was consistency.

My first mistake was trying to jump right into a serious racing schedule after a long & busy season over the 2nd half of 2009. I only took one week off, and was right back into race specific workouts to run the New Year Eve race in Chattanooga. After that, I tried (unsuccessfully) to PR at the Kaiser Half Marathon in February, then the plan was to be ready for a 12k and 10miler in march, then in 5k shape for the April races, and then of course be a mountain running machine for the Dipsea Race in June.

It’s great to have big goals, but I really lacked a big picture. After a disappointing race at Kaiser, I let my training slack off a bit through February. Then after regrouping toward the end of March, a sprained ankle knocked me out for a month. A crash course training schedule got me ready for the Dipsea on 5 weeks of training. After that, an inconsistent summer ended with a calf injury. Finally in September, I focused on getting myself healthy, and slowly building my weekly mileage starting from an easy 30, up to 55 by the end of the fall.

There were a few bright spots. I was very happy with the Across the Bay 12K in March running a PR of 39:42, and finishing 16th in a competitive PA race. Then just 5 days later I ran my best 5K since college in 15:49 at a track meet. The Dipsea was a very solid and exiting race despite very limited preparation. Finally I capped off a limited cross country season with a good race at the PA Championships.

2010 vs 2009 comparisons
2028 total miles run (2272 in 2009)
273 days run (295 in 2009)
Averaged 5.6 miles / day (6.2 in 2009)
Averaged 7.4 miles per day that I ran (7.7 in 2009)
4 PRs (12K, 5K, mile, Dipsea) vs. PRs in just about every distance except the 5k for 2009
Best finish in a PA race – 16th: twice – Redding 10 miler, and Across the Bay 12K vs 3 different 6th place finishes in 2009)
Times I lost to a girl: once in 2010 (to Kate O’Neil at the Marin 10K) vs once in 2009 (to Kate O’Neil at the Kaiser Half Marathon)

Looking ahead: While I plan to race at a range of distances in the first half of 2011, my training is geared toward a single focus – improving my 5K performances. I’m well on my way to toward building a good mileage base, and this time around emphasizing track workouts over tempo runs (although still getting a couple tempos in each month). I’m also spending more time working on my speed. If I can improve this part of my running repertoire, I think it will pay dividends across the board.

PA Championships

I think a race recap a month and a half after the actual race must be a new PR!  Life has been busy lately - which certainly isn't a bad thing - but I wanted to get a few thoughts down before they completely fade from my memory. 

The Pacific Association Cross Country Championships is a highly competitive race that caps off our local XC season in late November.  The race typically draws a handful of elite runners, and a large number of sub-elites who train in northern California.  I first ran the race (poorly) way back in my freshman year of college, and have run the past three years. 

My cross country training got off to a slow part thanks to a minor injury at the end of the summer.  I spent most the fall just trying to gradually build my mileage back into 50 mpw range, rather than hammering some interval workouts.  I jumped into three XC races in October and November to race my way into shape.  The results weren't spectacular, but respectable for my fitness level.

The one race where I really wanted to run well and help out my West Valley TC team, was the PA Championships.  In the couple weeks leading up to the race, I finally got a couple workouts in where I felt fast again, and I was feeling snappy on my runs. 

The morning of the race, I felt nervous for the first time in a while.  I was confident, but felt good to be jumping into a race where I thought I'd be ready to run.  The weather was cloudy & cool, but steady rains the prior week left the course extremely muddy.  Warming up, I realized that the thing I love about the Golden Gate Park course is that everyone else hates it.  If you jogged the course you might not realize how challenging it is considering there's no major hills.  It's just the type of course that's constantly changing - hard dirt, soft dirt, uneven grass, long gradual hills, short steep hills - so it's really tough to get in a rhythm over the 6 mile race. 

When the gun went off, I tried to settle into a good but comfortable pace on the first of 3 loops.  The field seemed larger than the last couple years, but I was feeling alright, and saw four of my teammates 5-10 seconds ahead who I know would be good people to key off of.  About a mile into the race, I was feeling pretty good, but knew it was too early to charge forward and catch them.  At the end of the first loop, I had caught two of my four teammates, and would work with them for the rest of the race.  The mud was proving to be a big factor, and I was really glad I wore spikes.  You could tell the guys who were wearing flats, because it seemed like they just stopped moving in certain spots. 

As the race went on, I did a good job of avoiding mid-race analysis.  I just tried to stay with my teammates, and keep rolling whenever I felt the pain creeping in.  By the last lap, I was right behind veteran Todd Rose, and quickly improving newcomer Matt Kane.  There were three other runners (who I didn't know) from other teams that were battling right with us.  With just over a mile to go, Matt threw a surge to move ahead of us, and Todd was just behind them.  As they started to pull away from the other three competitors, I knew I was in the number 5 spot for West Valley, so I needed to take every spot I could.  At one point with about a mile to go, the pain really hit, but I told myself to just keep pushing and don't think too far ahead.  As we charged up the last hill, there was only one runner left between Todd and me, but he was 15 yards ahead. 

One advantage of running on this course so much - both in workouts and as part of normal runs, is knowing where you can attack, and particularly how long you can hold that final kick.  Cresting the last hill, I kept my eyes on this guy's back & kept saying to myself I'm gonna get him, I'm gonna get him.  As I headed down, and made a sharp left turn, I kept winding my kick up and moving faster, slowly cutting into the lead.  With about 100 meters to go, we dropped into the meadow which was very muddy.  At this point I'm digging for that last gear & closing the last bit of the gap.  Just when I think I had him, he speeds up.  For a split second I thought I'd run out of time, but then I found that last gear and passed him a couple strides before the line. 

My final time was 33:30 (for ~ 6.1 miles) and 51st place.  Most people ran around a minute slower than last year due to the conditions, so after only losing 45 seconds over last year was very encouraging.  I also finished right with guys who had beaten me by huge margins only a couple weeks ago.  It felt great to end a short training season with a satisfying performance.