The Desert is a Harsh Mistress

The Desert is a Harsh Mistress

I recently felt the compunction to catch everyone up on my running fun for the last several months in my second hometown Tucson, Arizona (not by the sea).

And, while all of you Midwestern brethren were freezing in the dark, I was shuffling along in the sun in shorts an a T-shirt for most of the cold dark winter months.

Nonetheless, I still want to set the record straight about life in the Desert. Running here is not as easy as you might think.

First, Tucson - Tucson is after all, In The Desert. So, a lot of the races I did this winter are run - IN THE DESERT. The desert, as it's name implies, is hot, dry, sandy, rocky, hilly, and there are sharp-edged plants that you can either cut yourself on, or receive a skinful of stickers if you're not careful.

And those two words buried in the above sentence, a terrible twosome that no one wants to be a part of, yet are a constant simultaneous experience in Tucson running - my good friends "Sandy" and "Hilly"

And, who can forget “Rocky?” Put all three together and you’ve got experience (s) that are unforgettable.

(You’ll see some of this most excellent prose repeated in the ensuing blog – I extracted it for the preamble as I had used it and some other verbiage for some individual race reports. Trust me, it’s fun to read it twice!)

So, after my warm experience at the Rock and Roll Marathon in January, I focused on the Local running Scene and managed to turn off a few memorable performances and have some interesting experiences. Race schedule included the following:

Sun Run 10K
Arizona Distance classic Half Marathon
Sabino Canyon Sunset Run (a 7.6 mile out-and-back)
The Catalina State Park 10.75 mile training run
The “Run for Fun” Half Marathon (a DNS/DNF)
The Spring Cross Country Challenge 5K
The Cinco De Mayo 10K

I wound up sending emails to my friends back in Wisconsin summarizing, complaining and in some cases sarcastically describing the races of the Desert Season. I’ll include these as I’m pretty happy with the prose I created around describing the races, and hey, it’s easier to cut and paste than “rewrite the wheel”!

The Sun Run 10K

“Got to pay your dues if you want to sing the blues, and you know it don’t come easy!” Ringo Starr “It Don’t Come Easy”

So, the Sun Run 10K was held a week after the Rock N Roll Marathon, and even though I was still feeling the effects of the 26.2, I signed up, picked up my packet at “The Running Shop” the day before, and, on the day of the race, jogged up the street to Reid Park to the Colorado Rockies Stadium where the Race was being held that morning. It was exactly a mile to the starting line from our Co-op, a nice warm up run.

So, later here is what I wrote to Gregg in Wisconsin

I really don't get away with this freebooting training lifestyle you know. You play, you pay and I am definitely not 29 any more.

Even though it's a scant week since the Rock and Roll, I did the local Sun Run 10K up the street in Reid Park this morning and booooo, I sure can feel the residual dead legs and energy dearth from last week - still. I took Five, count 'em, Five days totally off, ran an easy four yesterday and still was total toast last night. Almost didn't want to get out of bed to toe the line this morning, even though it was only a mile jog up the street to the start line. I did it anyway, as I had paid, picked up my packet from the day before, kind of liked the shirt and may want to wear it sometime. I could have just done the 5K, however, what Marathoner worth his salt would go short when they could go long??

I do pay for my training regime in recovery time, yes I do. Still, I managed to shuffle off a 50:25, about 4 minutes slower than usual. It was a great morning, perfect weather, cool and endlessly sunny, a fun large loop course that meandered in and around Reid Park, 22nd Street, up Country Club and back around the horn to the finish line(much of which I run on daily) A BIG crowd, though I'm not yet connected into the Tucson Running community, so there was no one to banter with.

It was small consolation that, not only was I back at altitude at 2,500 feet, also, the age groups were ten deep. These damn Tucsonians are faster than hell - to get close to the top five in my age group, I would have had to average a 6:05 pace or better. As it was, I came in a distant 21st.

Still, I'm never too unhappy. It was a fun race, and it’s always great to have done one This time of year in Tucson, everyone dresses like it's July in Wisconsin, hah, my life is good.

The Arizona Desert Classic Half Marathon

After slogging around Reid Park for the next several weeks, doing a stint in Los Angeles in February, and an 18 day return to the Midwest, the next race that came up was the Arizona Distance Classic Half Marathon all the way at the end of March. By then, I think I was fully recovered

Here’s what I sent Gregg and Scott and Greg:

Well here are the results for the Arizona Distance classic Half Marathon in Tucson this morning and I'm really not disappointed -

16 404 Peter Klein 48 Oconomowoc WI 1:45:44 8:05

That's a pretty good time for me, it was 42 seconds faster than last year. AND, within 10 seconds of my Finish time in Sheboygan last August, which is the fastest half to date (or in this decade anyway).

Had to fight the pace a little, I felt every ounce of the almost 10 pounds more than last year I'm lugging around and also the altitude and hills - the course meanders around from 2900 - 3100 feet above sea level.. Still, I'm happy, it's a nasty rolling hills out and back course, though the last 2.1 miles of downhill makes up for it. I had a finish line sprint and averaged a 7:33 and a 7:32 for the last two miles, this after 11 miles of rolling hills. I was chasing the 1:45 pace group from the five mile mark on (that's where they passed me as I walk the water stops) but they were far in front of me at the end. I think they came in more like 1:44 or less, actually.

Weather was perfect - 48 at the start with a light breeze, high clouds, never really got too warm. When I left the course after the finish it was up to 67 degrees. I left at 5:15 am and was home by 10:30 am. (and by the way, it was 3-5 inches of Snow and Ice in Wisconsin this weekend.....)

Good finishers medal and Mizuno short sleeved technical shirt. Typical Finish area, though this year it was much more sparse.

Note how I claim my Wisconsin hometown here in AZ. Perhaps this summer I'll mess with Wisconsin, and claim I'm from Tucson. What do you think?

And, I have a "Peter the Running Dork" moment to share that might make you laugh. So, here goes

The Timing Chips were those new disposable adhesive ones that they attach to your bib at packet pickup. You're supposed to peel them off, detach some adhesive corners, and wrap them around your shoelaces so they look like this orange loop. I know this, I've used them before - in the Rock and Roll Marathon, so I'm an expert - right?

Well, wrong. It actually didn't click as I'm getting ready for the race - until...........

It's 90 seconds to the start of the race and I'm looking at peoples shoes around me for some reason and noticing the Orange Loops on everyone's laces. Except for mine.

(Shit!)

I scramble to peel it off my bib, peel off the adhesive backing, and thread it through my laces, stuffing the residue and the instruction part into my shorts pocket, finishing seconds before the gun went off. And, I'm all the way up front. Literally ALL THE WAY up front.

Either there was a lot of pre race focusing going on, or I'm invisible. No one seemed to noticed. No one commented, even though for the last 15 minutes, I'm walking around sporting this great big orange sticker on my bib, with - get this - My name on it as well. Can you say "Moron?" Named Peter??

I'm glad I'm not well known in the AZ running community - yet. Or maybe now I will be, time will tell.

How’s that for a pre-race adrenaline rush?

I have a race here every weekend now until the end of April - first a 7.4 mile up and back at Sabino Canyon (extreme!) a 10.75 double Trail run at Catalina State Park (lots of sand trails and hills) Another Half Marathon on the Far East Side of Tucson and then a Cross Country 5K (think Lapham Peak) after that. It's good to be in AZ!

The Sabino Canyon Sunset Run

"Gotta get up to get down….!” George Michael “Fast Love – (Thunderpuss Mix)

After the fun at the Arizona Distance Classic, I’m all set to do one the week later – The Sabino Canyon Sunset Run. This race was held in Sabino Canyon, a local State Park Recreation area. I’ve been to Sabino Canyon before, what I remember was taking a long tram ride that meandered up this mountain road, the tram gradually straining up long hills to disgorge you at the top, where you were free to meander down, dipping into the streams that came through the canyon, hiking the side trails and enjoying the mountainous desert beauty, Cactus, river crossings, boulders, and glorious natural formations.

It hadn’t really occurred to me what it would be like to RUN in Sabino Canyon. At sunset, no less……..

Later I wrote:

Okay, this one was a ball buster

Half of it anyway....

About 400 plus runners and walkers, it was a crowd and they capped it off, registration sold out days ago

After warming up doing some laps up and down the initial staging area of the canyon road, we all lined up facing up the canyon, Promptly at 6:00 pm, with the sun setting behind us, the gun goes off – and here we go, 3.7 miles up to the top of Sabino Canyon, turn around, come back for a total of 7.4 miles or about a "12K"

The Elevation rise was 2.700 to 3,400 feet, my Garmin showed it as a rolling straight uphill and then a rolling straight downhill.

I took off, kept up with the crowd, had a nice quick downhill at the start and thought “Okay, not bad so far.

Then came the hills. The never ending hills. They went up, and up……and up……..

The last 1.8 miles going up were STRAIGHT up. It was a killer slog, a winding mountain road that wouldn't end. This after 1.9 of rolling uphill. I never though it would end. And, as I’m still apparently a mile from the top, other runners are already flying past me headed back down the mountain. I struggled to the top, breaking into a WALK for a few paces as my heart rate was redlining trying to keep moving. Even so, no one passed me as I could walk as fast as I was capable of running.

And, okay, to give you an idea of the difference, the first 3.7 half to get to the top cost me 33 minutes and change, I was clocking out at about 190% of Max Heart rate and pushed it absolutely as hard as I could to the top of the Mountain without puking, still at times I was barely below a 9 minute pace.

Made the turnaround - the view was awesome - then it was time to fly. Got all of the 1.8 back and then some.

Turned around, and blasted down the mountain, covering 3.7 miles in about 26 minutes or less. A big negative split, though part of the problem was, I really had to put SOME brakes on, so I didn't catapult myself ass over teakettle - it was that extreme. And the quads and knees take a complete beating on the downhill’s for sure. I remember thinking that if I had enough surface on my arms that if I kept up my speed and spread them wide I would have taken off into the air, I felt like I was moving that fast.

Flew down the last hills, and even flew up the hill at the start (which was now close to the end) and blasted to the finish, the gravity pulling me in like a tractor beam. Finish time was 59:56, averaging an 8:07, which I'm completely satisfied with. It was fun watching the mile average on my Garmin wind down like crazy as I flew down the hill.

It was dusk when I crossed the finish line, sunset apparently over, and as is common in the desert full dark followed pretty quick and it was FREEZING in minutes. Didn't even check if I placed. Some of these guys were clocking 5:20's overall. Woulda had to average about a 6:28 according to last year's results to be anywhere near the money in my age group. These damn Tusconians kick big butt on the running field.

Hung around a bit at the end, however again knowing that in that crowd there was no way I was a “contenda” I got back in the Toyota, actually switched the air conditioning over to Heat, drove across town and was home by 8:00 pm.

The race shirt was a 100% Cotton Short sleeve T-shirt nothing special.

However, I would completely do this one again. The scenery and location were sensational.

And, the best part was - once you get up, you get DOWN!

The Catalina State Park 10.75 mile Trail Run

“…then you go back, Jack, Do it Again. We’ll turn it round and round…..” Steely Dan “Do it Again” (Becker and Fagen)

Interesting thing about these Tucson Races, many of them are double loopers, meaning that you do one loop, and then you go back, Jack, and do it again.
And sometimes knowing what is coming from the first time really makes you dread the second go round……….

First of this was the Catalina State Park 10.75 mile trail run, yet another odd distance and brutal, out in nature type course. This was the second year I had actually done this one, so I knew what to expect, anyway. The interesting thing about the race, was it was actually downgraded in distance from the previous year. Last year it had been billed as a 5.5 or 11 mile race, this year it was a 5.5 OR a 10.75 mile race, probably because many of the alert GPS-wearing fanatics such as myself had complained bitterly about the short markings according to our GPS.

Knowing that it was only 10.75 miles didn’t make it any easier though……

Check out the picture above, that's an actual photo from the race that day.

So, here is what I wrote:

Catalina State Park Trail Race Report

Cold and Windy, with on and off Rain (49 degrees and a cold wind - Snow on the Catalina's)

Huh? YES – SNOW in APRIL in Tucson on the upper stretches of the Catalina mountains, the glorious range for which the state park was named.

Being the second year I had run this race it was the same two loop brutal trail course with three half mile straight up stretches, one of which is a switchback set of railroad tie stairs that goes up....and up.......and UP!.

Two washes to cross – twice! Running water in the washes this year. Wet feet, plus sand in the shoes ensued and because they are in the first mile and also the sixth mile, you get to slosh and squelch for most of the race.

Still, I managed to persevere. Interestingly it was good to keep moving as the chill wind would hit you at odd times and the up, down, around, tiptoeing through the boulders and slogging through about six miles of sand was actually a little easier as the moisture kept the sand down, the cold temperatures made you not as overheated and the scenery was intriguing with a haze of winter humidity in the air.

I made it around once, then twice and hide it into the finish line with immense relief.

Clock said 1:35:13 at finish, an 8:49 pace, and over eight minutes faster than last year, which moved me from FIFTH to FOURTH in my age group. (nuff said about that - I was doing my best!)

Exceptionally outstanding Technical Finishers shirt - even better than the one Gregg Hermann (who wanted to be mentioned in my blog) didn't get in Lake Monona in 2007 (which they hand you, at the Catalina race, in your size when you cross the finish line),

After crossing the finish line and jogging to the Toyota for some dry duds, awaiting close to the finish area is an OUTSTANDING post race breakfast - scrambled eggs, refried beans, fresh salsa and tortillas, PLUS Robek's (a local vendor) Orange Smoothies (which made me even colder than I was) all served up by enthusiastic and friendly volunteers.. I actually went back for seconds, they were encouraging us to do so, and a Mexican breakfast never tasted better. I gorged myself shamelessly.

They actually had a pre-race raffle, which I managed not to win and One of the pre-race raffle prizes was - get this - a LIMO ride to and from the race in a long Lincoln stretch limo, which was parked, complete with uniformed driver, by the breakfast tent..

I chatted desultorily with some interesting and freezing people over our eggs and beans, however, knowing that the awards ceremony would be screwed up (it was the previous year and in fact also was this year and, having my fill of free food, )I decided it was time to go. It got rainier and windier and colder after breakfast (was this Tucson???) so I split, again blasting the heat in the Toyota to take the post race chill off of me.

In spite of the weird distance, rugged terrain and screwed up finish results, I would do this race again – the state park is awesome and the breakfast is incredible at the finish. Good shirt too!

My First DNF (actually a DNS!) for the Year - the "Run for Fun Half Marathon"

I was signed up the next weekend for the “Run for Fun” a local well-touted “fast and flat” half marathon. However, nature had it’s way with me, perhaps it was the Catalina’s revenge because…..here is what I wrote that Saturday:

Well, for the first time in four years, I was felled by a severe sinus infection/head cold thingy this week. Started getting inklings of it on Tuesday, by Thursday it was full blown, yesterday was pure hell, and finally I started draining about 1:30 am today, and am still down for the count.

Had to bail on the Half Marathon scheduled for today, When the alarm went off this morning, I couldn't stand up straight, let alone tackle the 13.1 Another burned race fee, and since I haven't been sick in YEARS, I forgot how much it SUCKS to experience this.....Damn!

I did go pick up Bib and Technical shirt, and because I would never wear a shirt from a race I hadn’t run, I got it a size Medium and donated it to Cayelin, when I got home, and she immediately lateralled it to Jeremy minutes later. It changed owners three times in about five minutes that shirt. Looks good on the boy though.

Well…..there is always another one!

The Spring XC Challenge 5K

I fought the virus for a week, and then, yes, there was another race! And, this one was a normal distance too! Here is what I wrote:

Did the Spring Cross Country Classic 5K in Tucson this Am, and I officially sucked.

Lots of excuses. First, Tucson - Tucson is after all, In The Desert. So, a lot of these races (and the last three I've done) are run - IN THE DESERT. The desert, as it's name implies, is hot, dry, sandy, rocky, hilly, and there are sharp-edged plants that you can either cut yourself on, or receive a skinful of stickers if you're not careful.

And those two words buried in the above sentence, a terrible twosome that no one wants to be a part of, my good friends "Sandy" and "Hilly"

I knew I was off to a rocky start this morning (hah, make it a Threesome!) I was tired when the alarm went off having not completely shaken this stoooopid sinus virus. I got LOST on the way to the Park, finally having to stop and ask directions from some guy who was zipping along at a sub-six minute mile pace doing warm-up miles and wearing his bib. And, so I arrived there discombobulated, and out of sorts. There was a tiny 18-inch square sign for the race, posted at ground level guiding you into the park entrance.

This, by the way was a $7 entry fee, so I wasn't expecting much. It's the spring cleaning race for SAR (Southern Arizona Roadrunners) and they handed out a motley assortment of leftover bib numbers from other races (mine read "Saguaro National Park Labor Day Run") and then it's a T-shirt Grab Bag, where you can choose from a heaped up assortment of T-shirts from past races, many of which I already had, and had given away because they were so ugly. Unexpectedly, though, I burrowed into the pile and found a nice technical shirt - in my size - from a race I did last fall, that didn't have the Year on it, (I think you had to pay extra to get this shirt) so I wouldn't feel bad actually wearing it. Or, chucking it as a warm-up in some race down the road…...

Adding insult to injury, I fire up my GPS only to hear that dreaded flat electronic squawk, indicating "Low Battery" You who are Garmin aficionado’s probably know that sound - it means, Mister Garmin will work for about 90 seconds and then go blank. I'm instantly enraged, and just barely restrained myself from slamming the damn electronic nuisance into the asphalt of the parking lot.

Oh well, now I'm resigned to the fact that at best this will be a $7 training run.
Interestingly in the SAR CC races, SAR separates the Girls from the Boys race-wise - and the Women went first this time. Next year, apparently, it will be reversed. Anyway, I got to watch all of the women come ambling by, most looking like they were just jogging normally, even the fast ones. That should have been my clue.

So, about 10 minutes after the promised start time after we waited for some female stragglers to amble in from the desert (chivalry has it’s price!), me and the rest of the boyz line up en masse. It's 8:30 am, the sun is already high and beating down and my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth it's so damn dry here. One, Two, Three Go! And, we go, thundering off into the desert, raising a haze of dust

It's a double loop course, the "loop" consisting of a meandering, rocky, rutted trail, three extreme uphill’s (think Lapham you Wisconsinites without the shade) with little accompanying downhill and a lot of sand to slog through. One water stop about halfway through, thank the Lord, which temporarily unstuck the tongue. Then, you go, Back, Jack, and Do it Again, hang a right instead of a left at the nexus point, and the last 1k is an uphill asphalt bicycle path to the finish line. It wasn't an easy, flat, fast 5k by any means.

Didn't have anything to give, couldn't gauge my pace anyway, and so was passed by a plethora of my fellow idiots for the first half mile, and then as time went by, I picked a few off one at a time as the Darwinian aspects of Desert Trail running (and the heat) kicked in. The second loop, after I took water, I felt myself fading away by inches over the next few hills, and struggled through, hating every minute of it.

Interestingly on the second loop (and I didn't report this on the other two races) there was a runner hard down on the course, way out and unable to walk, and ultimately the paramedics had to retrieve him. I offered to stop and help, however by the time my mid-pack slow ass had arrived on the scene, he had half a dozen volunteers around him and a terse Nazi-lady (who I see all the time, she's a tough chick my age who is at all the races,) told me to "Keep Moving"

This also happened in Sabino and Catalina - runners hard down - as well - the Desert is a harsh mistress for sure!!

Finish line time was 24:20-something, and I didn't even bother to check placement. One cool thing about SAR is, even though they are ultra competitive and cliquish, if you win, you can pick up your award anytime in the next month from any race, they hang on to it for you at the main sponsor - The Running Shop. Not that I think I got anything, either way it didn't matter. I wanted to go home and forget about it. It sucks not having a watch to run with, I'm going to put a cheap digital in the car for just in case for in the future if Mr. Garmin takes a powder again..

I did go by the finish line "Potluck" nosh - and saw one apparently local dish that almost made me hurl - get this, Celery Sticks with Peanut Butter, Chocolate Chips, Raisins, and Colored Candy Sprinkles. OOF, and I thought Wisconsin tastes were bad.

Interestingly, they also had a keg of beer. At 9:00 am. No interest on my part, though about an hour later, as I’m working up a thirst, I’m thinking hmmmmmmmmmm..

I hope I feel better soon!

The Cinco de Mayo 10K

I struggled again for another week with this lingering Sinus monster that won’t go away. April became May, Step-daughter Jenna blew into town, and come Sunday, May 3rd, it was time to toe the line with Jenna for the “Cinco De Mayo 10K” out west of us at Cholla High School.

We arrived early, me thinking correctly that there will be a crowd. And, there was! We snagged one of the last parking places in the school lot, and ambled over to the starting line festivities.

This was a really big race, about 800 people, a dj at the start, Starbucks Coffee for all, and a big expo inside for afterwards. Promptly at 7:00 am we line up, the gun goes off and off we go towards again, you guessed it, the mountains!

It’s again, a “meandering uphill out and back course underneath the "foothills” that never seemed to not be uphill. I’m slogging the whole way, unable to find my pace or be happy about being there. 10K’s are tough, they are two times a 5K, however, if you wanna go, you “got’s to wail!”

I’m joined at about mile 1.5 by Jeff, a friendly gentleman in my age group that I met in Sabino briefly. We wind up running up and around to the halfway point, however not before I apparently pass some tense runner too closely who gives me a shove as I pass him by, “you’re pretty close” he rasps nastily at me, “Sorry!” I chirp in return, thinking “Asshole!” Either way, I leave him floundering in my dust.

Jeff and I make it to the turnaround and start heading back. At about mile four, I tell him to go, I’m at this point starting to fade. He lopes off into the distance, I think he was sandbagging to hold the conversation with me which was really kind of him. In any event, I’m just happy to be going and want to be done.

I roll down out of the foothills, and even though it’s supposed to be downhill, it still seems uphill to me, as my leaden legs just don’t want to hold race pace. I have no idea where Jenna got to, either she’s way in front or way behind. Not too far behind as it turns out, actually…..

Managed to grind out the last mile, then have a little bit to push in the last .2 as well. Finish time is 49:04 and I’m happy that it isn’t worse, actually. A 7:54 pace, I’m actually surprised at that. Not my best and as usual, I’m not in the finish money.

Immediately, Jenna turns up at my elbow, her finish time 49:08, a record for her and she’s right on my heels, the next runner behind me. A great race for her and she chortles merrily about her time and performance as I moan and groan about mine.
At the finish line, her “real Dad” Tom awaits, startling us both, and after they trade hugs, she mutters to me “oh great, now everyone probably thinks I’m dating one of you old guys!”

We acquire some Starbucks, and move into the expo area where a Mexican feast awaits, several different types of Breakfast burritos, juice and all kinds of things. We nosh heavily, washing it down with Power Water and watching a militantly organized water balloon toss. Jeff joins us and we all munch companionably as we watch several people break water balloons over each other and the festivities around us start to spool up.

Neither Jenna nor I were interested in playing picnic games, and having had our fill of the free food, we depart, heading back to the Co-op for pictures and more breakfast I think – at this point, I can’t recall what happened for the rest of the day.

That pretty much wrapped up the spring running season in Tucson. I actually took a dip back into Wisconsin the next week, running the Lake Geneva Half Marathon with Gregg Herman who wants everyone to know that he placed third in his age group and won a HAT – and I was FOURTH in my age group and went home with a bare head. However, that’s got nothing to do with the desert, so I hope you’re happy Gregg!

Looking forward to coming back for the Wisconsin Racing Season…… Hope to see you all at a Race soon!

Rockin' at the Rock and Roll - the PF Chang's Rock and Roll Arizona Race Report

Rockin’ at the Rock and Roll – The PF Chang Rock and Roll Phoenix Marathon Report

all that noise, all that sound

all those places I got found

and birds go flying at the speed of sound

to show how it all began

birds came flying from the underground

if you could see it then you'd understand - ColdPlay - Speed of Sound

Well, the Marathon just turned 45 for me. On Sunday, January 18th, I toed the line in Phoenix with several thousand other hardy souls to traverse the 26.2 mile, music-studded urban-Phoenician course. Fulsome thanks to brother Mark Gershman, who provided opulently decadent housing for the night before the race, incredible libations before and after, and outstanding tour guide and logistical services for my stay as well as non-stop scintillating conversation.

So, I headed out from Tucson at 0900 on Saturday morning for what was supposed to be the hour and forty minute or so drive to Phoenix. I was making great time until I hit the south end of Phoenix and the urban density reared it’s ugly head with a multi car back up on “the Ten” which I spent about a half hour creeping through. I exited on “The Sixty” and headed to “The One-oh-One” North and lo-and behold the entrance ramp was closed for weekend construction. After traversing some never-ending exit ramps and heading back the other way, I eventually wound up on surface streets, in yet more gridlock, headed in vaguely the right direction to get to Mark’s house. And, by now I’m about a half hour behind schedule.

Got to Mark’s most excellent abode and after a tour of his amazing space, we head down to the Expo for packet pickup.

The Expo was held in downtown Phoenix (I almost typed Tucson for some reason!) in the sprawling, and partially newly remodeled convention center. After circling the block a few times, we squeezed into a broken parking meter space and soon joined the large stream of humanity flowing into the Convention Center doorways. True to form of this being a “Rock and Roll” event, outside was a full PA system with a rapid-fire Announcer pumping up the crowd as we walked by, and blasting indecipherable music.

Packet pickup was quick – indeed, the Marathon was the lesser of the two races, with the Half Marathon being the most largely attended. There were about 9500 marathoners registered for the race (about 2/3’s of that number were finishers the next day), however there were probably more than 25,000 registered for the Half – quite a big difference. More on that later.

Due to the lesser quantities of Marathoners, I was able to stroll right up and pick up my bib and envelope (#3719), encountering an ebulliently smart-assed volunteer, who asked for my Photo ID, and then asked if I also had a non-photo id. Sensing correctly that he was screwing with me, I retorted with some smart-ass comment regarding the non-efficacy of that. He complimented me on being awake and seeing through his ruse. He then explained the new “D-Chip” a vinyl throw away RF ID Tag that was pasted to the bib, and showed me the instructions for peeling it off and attaching it to my shoe. New technology – throw away chips!!! I like the idea about not sweating a $40 lost chip and also not having a walnut-sized hunk of plastic precariously zip tied to my shoe, however, my hope was that the technology was stable enough to record my time. I thought later too how this is also not doing much for decreasing the non-biodegradable vinyl laminate material that is going to clog our overtaxed landfills as well. I guess we’ll soon have one implanted in ourselves that will solve all of these issues!

Bib and chip picked up, it was time to go get my T-Shirt. Typical of the previous Rock and Roll experiences, the T-shirt was a disappointment – a non-descript, non-technical white 100% cotton, with some multi-hued logos front and back. Later it was explained to me that they make most of their money on Merchandising and their hope was that I would gravitate directly to the Merchandise Area and purchase a $10 logo’d Technical Shirt or Sweatshirt for $50 or $60 to commemorate my exciting event. Being a veteran of these Marketing tactics, I refrained admirably from adding to my debt load or Running Apparel collection and would have gotten out of the expo with wallet and credit card further unscathed had it not been for a responsibility I had to fulfill.

So, the entire reason the Rock and Roll was my January destination marathon was due to a Midwestern brainstorm that took place sometime back in September of 2008. My adopted little sister in Wisconsin, Rhonda (also known as “The Duchess”) decreed, shortly after the Lake Country Half Marathon at the beginning of September that our next endeavor would be to gather a herd of our fellow Wisconsinites and hie them off to the Warmth of Phoenix in January to run the Rock and Roll Half Marathon. Furthermore, she exhorted us, she had already signed up and booked her flight!

Since my dear little sister Rhonda is she-who-WILL-be-obeyed, I dutifully signed up – my rebelliousness extending only to signing up for the FULL instead of the Half, and marked the calendar accordingly. Thus It Shall Be Written!

The group momentum fizzled quickly, as most of those things do as the afterglow of achievement fades and life intrudes. Rhonda, with her typical mercurial change of mind bailed on the race, leaving me to either contemplate burning another race fee and ranting about it in a later blog, or to go do the darn race anyway.

Which, of course was my intention anyway. Besides, I knew I could connect with brother Mark.

Rhonda did, however, extract a promise from me that I would “buy her something at the expo” (See the “she-who-WILL-be-obeyed part above)

So, back to the expo – Mark and I strode purposefully and inexorably towards the acre or so of Rock and Roll Merchandise to fulfill my sacred duty. After careful consideration, (about 32 seconds) I settled on an appropriate object and, was funneled towards the “checkout area” where a long line snaked through barriers set up that led to a large room, containing a sea of cash registers, all with large numbered placards on poles about 8 feet off the ground. Indeed, there was a “Wrangler” sitting atop a step ladder and as you arrived at the head of the line, after drawling “Hah y’all dewin’ today?”, he would direct you to the nearest open cash register where you paid for your stuff. Great organization!

My wallet considerably lighter, we headed out to the expo.

I’m not into expos – especially the large ones and this one was no exception. It was crowded and consisted of the typical expo stuff. Shoes, clothes, juices, bars, gels, healthy things, Bart Yasso, Paraphenalia..……I stood it for about a half a pass through and then asked Mark if he’d had enough. Being a veteran of 52 marathons, he had, and we dodged strollers, stalled people and all kinds of stuff to weave our way out of the Expo center and back to the car.

After attempting to Carbo load at Oregano’s, an amazing Phoenix chain that EVERYONE in Phoenix appeared to be at on Saturday night (two-plus hour wait and it didn’t’ get any shorter, even though we waited over an hour), we wound up doing Pizza and Salad at Sauce, another chain. It was fine and after a good snooze, we were up and out the door at 04:50 am.

It gets cold in the desert at night, and the 80 degree temperature from the day before had given way to about 49 chilly degrees. I had layered up and brought my oh-so-cool drop bag to shuck my sweatshirt once it was time to get moving. And, I was glad I did.

We were early to Finish Line and got a Primo parking space, close to the finish line which would prove fortuitous later in the day. After hanging around for awhile, we followed a stream of early morning attendees towards the bus pickup area, where a long line of school buses stretched off into the distance.

We were wrangled onto the first bus in line, exhorted by a loud voiced volunteer to “Take Every Seat! Use Every Seat! Fill up the Seats FROM THE BACK!” and shortly the bus was filled and underway.

It would not be typical of a Rock and Roll race if the transportation logistics weren’t fucked up in some way. Mark being a five-time veteran of the event soon noticed that the bus had gone astray, and wound up disgorging us some several blocks from the Marathon start area. We trudged the half or ¾ mile towards the brightly lit start area in the dark, and I was thankful for my sweatshirt as it was still darn cold.

We passed the Starting Chutes, the gear drop off and headed down past a brightly lit park towards a runner hospitality area, where they were serving Hot Coffee, bananas, sports drink, some gooey libations called “Lara Bars” and where the first of many of the bands we would see and hear that day was belting out some almost accurate, but exuberant cover tunes.

So, we hung out and I downed a cup or two of the free coffee (rare for me) which not only tasted like heaven, but woke me up with a blast of caffeine. We hung out, met a few of Mark’s many colleagues, including Jad, (who would later that day turn out an almost sub-three hour finish time), and enjoyed the music. What the band missed in accuracy, they made up for in loudness, however it was fun to Rock and Roll at 6:00 in the morning with a bunch of nervous runners milling around.

The coffee had a secondary effect and I had to deploy some emergency exit procedures and find my way to one of the several Portolet Villages that were set up around the streets around the finish line. (Not one, but THREE trips were necessitated by my Coffee intake). Thus “enlightened”, we finally headed for the gear check, which turned out to be several Brown UPS Trucks. Mine was number 16, and after making me tie and retie my bag, they took it from me (assuring me that UPS ALWAYS delivers) and we headed to the starting corrals.

As I had of course lied about my projected finish time, I was in Corral number 3. Mark was in Corral Two, also having known the system, so we got into number 3 together, and headed up towards the front, pushing our way with quiet, purposeful authority till we fetched up against the rope that divided the two corrals.

The sun had been rising and it was full daylight now. Darude’s “Sandstorm” (a personal favorite) was blasting over the PA, followed by the obligatory U2’s “It’s a Beautiful Day”. The announcer was counting down the time to the race, as two helicopters hovered overhead. Due to the lingering morning chill, I had on a throwaway T-shirt with my yellow Marathon Maniac’s Singlet underneath. Next to me was a runner “dressed for Bear” in a padded black and white checked Flannel shirt and hat. I was impressed at his lack of fortitude. Around me I hear the squeal of GPS units being fired up and synching with the overhead satellites.

After the usual blah blah blah, the newly appointed Republican Governor took the stand (to a chorus of muted Boo’s) and fired the starting gun. We were off!

The course was a series of several miles long traverses over mostly flat streets with rights and lefts, that meandered all over Phoenix, Scottsdale, and, I think the Tempe area. It was mostly Urban/Suburban, with strip malls, restaurants, gas stations with a park or two as well as some Urban six lane thrown in. There were bands, it seemed every couple of miles though for me the whole Rock and Roll thing is kind of overhyped. The idea is to keep moving, so you can hear part of a tune as you approach and then pass the various talent out on the course, however, I wasn’t interested in stopping and listening to any of the bands do a set or two. I was, after all, fighting the clock! And, indeed I saw the usual large percentage of people plugged into their IPODS, seemingly oblivious to the Rock and Roll part of the experience

The elevation wasn't bad at all - and I was pleased to note that I was some 1,500 feet below the Tucson Altitude of 2.500 feet that I had "trained" at for the last few months

So, off we went up a street, hung a left and began our long trek back to the finish line.

So let me take a few sentences to describe what has emerged as my typical, off-season training program for winter marathons. Basically, I come off the Fall racing season having used a training regime consisting solely of racing each weekend throughout the summer. I work my way from 5k’s to 10k’s to Half Marathons, and then pop off a few fall marathons which in the last few years have gone well, and then I’m fairly done for November and December, with the odd Turkey Trot of 10 miler in there. I set my sights on a January or February Marathon, and then vow to get out and do some long training runs. Time goes by, and I slog out a four miler 3-4 times a week, maybe a 7 if I’m motivated. Guilt sets in and I try to schedule a long run and then something happens, an activity, event, or weather and it doesn’t come off. Maybe I get a ten miler in, maybe not.

Race day approaches and I step up the four milers to maybe five times a week, and then finally it gets close to the marathon. I figure I can’t do long runs that close to race day, so instead, I just go into taper mode instead, trickling to a halt usually the Wednesday before the race, taking Thursday through Saturday off to be “fresh” for the race.

Textbook Runners World, that! NOT!

Races are all different, and always a struggle in some ways, yet for some weird reason, I still manage to complete them and sometimes in pretty good time – in spite of my lack of training.. This one had a distinct flavor to the effort, the two “halves” of the race had separate and distinct characteristics.

I didn’t feel great the whole first half of the race. My legs were sluggish and while Mark and I had vowed to go out slowly to “save” it for the last 10K, we were averaging about a 9:15 pace and I felt like I was going flat out. Not a good thing.

We passed the first few miles, my GPS firing accurately on the mile markers. And actually, the annoying factor of the day was that in the first 10 miles or so there was someone around me who I couldn’t shake, whose GPS, or running watch would let out a shrill squeal at regular 30 second intervals. It was more than slightly irritating and I could neither identify the culprit, nor get away from them no matter what I did.

We cranked off a 9:15, a 8:54 another 9:00 or so and then Mark and I agreed on a simultaneous Pit stop, adding an additional 1:35 to our time, so by mile four so we are already under water for a sub four hour finish

So, we cruise along, miles 5, 6, 7. At some point I shuck my shirt and add it to a donate pile at a water stop. There were plenty of alternating water stops, some with Cytomax, then Water only stops., The Volunteers at all the stops were fantastic, high energy, very supportive. Now that I'm a seasoned Desert Running Veteran I knew that the cool of the morning would give way very suddenly to the heat of a typical desert day, so I drank heavily at each water stop.

Splits were all over the map for the first half as both Mark and I struggled. 9:10, 8:51, 9:22, 9:15, 8:59, 9:38 – I’m finding it impossible to find my stride. Mark had a left leg acting up, so I shared one of my Aleve with him. We traversed the Arizona streets, making our rights and lefts, and heard the music, talked to the volunteers and made desultory conversation. The rising sun was a constant presence, mostly in our eyes as we made our way through the first half.

I started getting some inklings of the way it needed to go around mile 12 or so. Up until then, I hadn’t found my comfort zone and I was achingly reminded of my lack of training as well as all of the Miller Lites I had consumed over the last several months. We passed the Half Way point in a dismal 2:02:32 – very slow for me and I’m resigned to thinking that this was going to be a really long day.

Shortly after that and interestingly, I found that picking up my pace “felt” better. Unconsciously, I started lengthening my stride and increasing the distance between Mark and myself and by mile 14 or so I had widened the gap such that I didn’t know where he had gone. Cavalierly abandoning my brother Host, I started digging in and finally found my pace.

The second half of the Rock and Roll ROCKED! My stride started increasing and the average pace time readout on my Garmin started declining, going from 9:15, to 9:13, to 9:11 where it seemed to hang for a long time, and then down into the Nine-and-change-range. It was too late to set any records or pull off a time like the Lakefront, however suddenly it seemed like another sub-four was in sight. I started pushing the miles, gliding through 15, 16, 17, 18. I caught up to and passed the four hour pace group around mile 15 and spent the next six miles doing a “Do-si-do” with them, as they ran the water stops and I walked through. The Pace Leader called out at each mile marker "You're on schedule for four hours if you started with me!" I managed to stay ahead of them for the most part and, after mile 21, put them firmly behind me..

There really weren’t a lot of spectators on the course throughout, however at exactly mile 19.38 by my GPS, I came upon a huge crowd of people lining both sides of the street. I was actually running alone in a “lull” in the crowd as I approached them and they fell silent as I made my way towards them.

Not wanting to be unacknowledged, I pumped both fists over my head and shouted “YEAH! YEAH!” and the entire crowd, showing typical crowd stimulus response erupted with me “YEAH, YEAH!!!’ in a huge wave as I sprinted down the block between them. I heard shrieks and screams and “GO MANIAC!” as I went through the sea of my new friends and supporters.

Speaking of the Maniacs, my yellow and black shirted brethren were out in force that day. I traded nods and “Go Maniac’s!” with several of them and had a great conversation with “Silver” a well spoken gentleman from California, who was completing his 77th race. Interestingly he spent much of the time in the early miles yakking on his Cellphone as he ran, bent to one side. I also ran into #466, Cathryn, who was helping her husband qualify for Maniac Status that day. We had a great 45 second conversation as I was making my final sprint. Thanks to all my Maniac Brethren as always!

I recognized shortly after my Crowd Wave that the typical desert transition from morning cool, to Heat as the switch flipped and suddenly it was pretty darn warm. It was time to get this done.
So anyway, after my Crowd Wave at mile 19, I blasted the last 10k as if it were a….10K! I felt great and had a lot of energy. Perhaps the Carbo loading had finally hit the bloodstream? Perhaps the 1,500 foot altitude difference between Tucson and Phoenix had provided a cumulative advantage? Perhaps the Cytomax, Aleve and Ninxia Red kicked in? Who knows? Either way, once again, the Marathon Gods and Goddesses parted the seas for yours truly once again and I sprinted my way to the finish, passing streams of other runners, clocking diminishing splits of 8:54, 8:47, 8:25, a blistering 8:08 and a pretty amazing 7:39 for the final quarter mile.

The course went up and over a freeway interchange (the brief shade of the overpass a welcome respite), hung a right and made it’s way down a long road to the entrance to the parking area, then a right and a dogleg to the left, another sharp left to the finish area. I’m trying not to calculate my finish time, as I knew it was going to be close. And, the sun is beating down and heat is starting to rise from the pavement. I’m feeling some sunburn kicking in and my arms are chafed, having sweated off all my body glide. I’m thankful for my sunglasses and my dew rag.

I don’t remember much about the finish other than suddenly I was there. I pumped my hands overhead for the finish line photo and then punched my GPS. 3:58:03 on the overhead clock, 3:57:20 on the GPS (which would later be adjusted somehow by my chip to a 3:57:11) Under four hours after all, meaning that I had knocked a rousing 8 ½ minutes off my second half, coming alive in a really big way. Yeah man!

Went down the long finish chute, collecting a bottle of water and at the corner were the finishers medals, which some very young and cute volunteers were handing to the runners. I asked my volunteer to “install” mine for me and she giggled and complied, hanging it around my neck and congratulating me. I almost overbalanced at the weight of it – the medal was a thick multi colored disc, weighing about a pound an a half. Nice finishers medal!

Staggering under the weight of my finishers swag, I wandered back to the finish line to see if Mark was somewhere behind me and had a mini Marathon Maniacs reunion with Silver and another Maniac. We compared notes, congratulated each other and finally meandered through to the rest of the finish chutes.

Not seeing Mark, I decided to go to Plan B and rendezvous later with him at the Reunion area. I passed the Medal girls again, collected a mylar blanket (what the heck?) and fetched up against a long line of people around the corner. Realizing that this was the Finishers Photo line, I bypassed it entirely (who needs another $50 sweaty finishers photo?) and headed around a hairpin turn to the Food area. As I passed though into the area, some volunteers were filling a garbage can with Ice. I grabbed a big chunk and began icing down my arms and legs. While I was doing that, I fell into conversation with a cute young girl named Anne from Washington DC who had just turned out her second marathon in a stellar 3:42 or so. We compared notes on the course and she too had recognized the exact moment when the days heat had started kicking in. She was worried about her mother and sister who were over an hour behind. We both agreed that the heat would be a factor

I headed into the food area and was soon laden with everything from heart healthy potato chips a banana, raisins, Larabars, and the best treat of all, a rainbow popsicle. Not being hungry as usual after the race, I wound everything up into my mylar blanket except for the popsicle which I started gnawing on immediately.

Signs were overhead with arrows directing everyone to the Merchandise, the Merchandise, the Merchandise, and Gear check and Family Reunion area. Bypassing the Merchandise, I walked a long way past The Merchandise to the line of UPS trucks way far away. I fell into a conversation with Chris from California, a young surfer dude who was both a Team In Training Coach and worked in a Children’s Oncology center as well. Another 20-something who is changing the world – a great conversation. Collected my gear and made my way through the crowd as I finished my popsicle.

Inside the reunion area was a massive sea of people. The sun was beating down on everyone and the heat was rising. There was a huge Michelob Ultra tent and concession stands with immense lines everywhere, as well as a stellar and tight six member band, belting out some amazing cover tunes – full brass, guitar and bass and possibly the best act I heard all day.

Ascertaining that Mark hadn’t arrived at our Rendevous point (the letter “W”) I checked out the beer lines as we were supposed to be getting a free beer. Realizing that the lines were easily a 45 minute wait, I returned to the “W” and there was Mark, who had finished a little while after me. We made our way back to his SUV and after a typical long half hour Rock and Roll Traffic Tie up, we made our way back to his excellent abode to shower and think about lunch.

Later, we were able to return to Oregano’s North, sit right down, have an EXCELLENT post-race meal and watch the Arizona Cardinals kick butt in a great playoff game upset. Shortly after the win, I got in the Toyota and an hour and forty minutes later was back in Tucson for the next phase of life.

So, I have a HUGE forehead tan line, some sore legs (though not that bad today – Wednesday) a monster finishers medal and Marathon 45 is in the bag. I’ve already signed up for two half marathons and a 10K in the next few months and I’m trying to figure out which ones will get me to 50 by the time I turn 50 in June of 2010. It may have to be some repeats, due to the economic as well as the time considerations, however, as you know – they are all good

So to sum up – the Rock and Roll is a great destination race if you like the big city, Big Merchandise races. I would probably do it again, solely because Brother Mark was such an excellent host and made my stay really Fun and easy. The the course, support, volunteers and timing were all done extremely well. For a January race, there’s no better place to be than the Desert, that’s for sure, and I’m sorry my Midwest Friends (Yes, that’s YOU sister Rhonda – love ya! Also Gregg – sure woulda beat the Freezing Samson Stomp!!!) couldn’t have come to enjoy this sunny warm day.

And, maybe next time I’ll train some.

Or, maybe not…..

Either way, hope to see you all at a race soon!

Thanks again Mark!

Happy 2009 and Happy Inauguration!!!

Back to the Lakefront - Or, The Fourth Time is the Charm

Back to the Lakefront, or “The Fourth Time is the Charm”

Well, on October 5, I returned once again, to the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon, for the fourth time. For you alert readers, this means that I have improved the statistics of the times I’ve signed up and paid for this marathon versus the times I’ve actually run it, making it four out of six times now. (For more information, see my previous blog “Burning Race Fees, or Feet Don’t Fail Me Now”).

Let me say right off the bat, the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon is hands down, one of the best-run, best supported, great-from-start-to- finish races in the Midwest. Race Director Kris Hinrichs, who is very visible throughout the whole weekend event manages a team of hundreds of amazing people – all of whom are volunteers - to turn out a stellar race experience for everyone – runners and spectators alike.

I had previously run the Lakefront Marathon in 2002, 2003 and 2005 and each time it was a really great experience.

This time was no exception.

Went down to packet pickup on a beautiful Saturday morning with my friend Lisa, who had signed up however elected, intelligently not to run as there was a lot going on for her at the time. We picked up our long sleeve technical shirts, chips and the duffle bag-sized plastic draw-string gear bag for our gear drop – one of the many cool touches this race has for the runners. The volunteers even apply a tag to the bag with your bib number on it so on race day, you are ready to drop and go at the start.

So, Lisa and I toured the expo which, while small, has grown over the years and boasts everything from sports apparel from different places, to Select Comfort beds, Chiropractors and Massage, and other Races from around the Wisconsin. Indeed we had a great talk with one of the Green Bay Marathon people and picked up some great ideas for other races to do.

The Lakefront Marathon also sells some great apparel for a reasonable amount of money, however, since I’m always swamped in T-shirts and Sweatshirts, I managed to refrain, however, I couldn’t resist some of the cool Lakefront Marathon neon luggage tags for $1. It’s been my experience that you can see these tags coming up the conveyor belts at the airport from a long way away, and they seem to hang on forever, so it was a good investment.

Lisa purchased a great pink headband from the “I Run Like a Girl” display, where we talked to one of the main employees who was from Iowa. I was unable to talk Lisa into buying some matching apparel, so it was time to leave, as neither of us were in the market for a new mattress or a Chiropractor.

After carbo loading on Sushi, and Multi-grain bread smeared with gobs of my fresh-from the garden Homemade Pesto, I had a pretty good night’s sleep. The next day, as usual, I had to get up and leave at something like 4:45 am for an early bus departure from the Lakefront. It was dark and cold, however I quickly zipped into downtown Milwaukee in the Toyota on I-94, exiting towards the lakefront in time to follow a stream of school busses that were clogging the exit onto Lincoln Memorial Drive. Correctly concluding that the only place these busses were going at that early hour on a Sunday were the Lakefront Pickup area, I followed them into the parking area, where I was directed by a series of flashlight waving volunteers to a very well-positioned front row parking space near the entrance to the shuttle busses. Later, this would prove a really smart move as it was also a short walk from the finish area.

Taking a bearing on some landmarks to find the Toyota in the daylight later in the day, (once again, experiencing 40-plus marathons has taught me a few tricks) I walked over to the lead bus, got on, and in short order was heading up the freeway to Grafton. The Lakefront Marathon is a point-to-point course, and Grafton is a suburb north of Milwaukee where the starting line is.
I talked a little bit with the runner next to me in the seat who was doing his third marathon, and was dressed as if he was going to the North Pole, in several layers, topped off with a hooded sweatshirt. To each his own. After trading a few anecdotes we both fell silent as was most of the bus that early in the morning and completed the half hour ride to Grafton High School, where the bus disgorged us into the parking lot

Another great thing about the Lakefront Marathon is that you get to wait in the warm comfort of the High School for the race to start. There is a cafeteria with tables to sit at, or a gymnasium to stretch out in. I commandeered a table in the cafeteria, and watched the door as I knew there were a few people I might know running the race, and I wanted to be able to see them arrive.

Soon, however the place filled up as other busses arrived, and I was joined at my table by two very energetic and beautiful young ladies from Forest Park Illinois – Denise and Sue, who sat down and hauled out a large bag of Rice Krispy treats, which was their pre-race libation. I offered to share my BumbleBar and we chewed companionably and talked about races, the weather, Illinois, and other typical pre-race chatter. They were experienced runners and we had quite a bit in common – except for the Rice Krispy treats which, while they looked good, it was too early in the morning for me to try something new. Maybe next race.

After awhile, I decided to go out and check the weather, and also decided to use the out door porto potties as the indoor restrooms had filled up. It was probably in the mid 40’s outside, the sun was starting to make an appearance and the outdoor PA system was tuning up. I had some great talks with some first time and long-time runners, including a guy who purposely came up from Chicago every year to run Lakefront as “it’s so much easier and better than doing Chicago!” I agreed.

As race time grew near, I searched in vain for anyone I knew, however it was to no avail. Although there were only 2,750 available slots for this race ( up from 2,500 in previous years) the crowd seemed to be twice that, with many spectators and support crew there, so I was all by myself as it became time to lose the extra clothes and drop my bag off in the very-close-to-the-start line Post Office Truck that would take the gear to the finish line.

I hung around for awhile, enjoying the energy of the crowd and then about 7:45 started shucking off my sweats, stuffing them in my bag. I had been undecided as to what to wear, as it called for cool temperatures in the morning, warming up to about 60 later in the day, with a possibility of rain. I finally decided to wear a short sleeved technical shirt, and of course, my Marathon Maniacs Singlet. I had neglected to check the website to see how many other of my Maniac brethren would be there, however, I was proud to be flying my colors for my hometown race.

As race time approached, I was joined by another Lisa – Lisa Turner, a trainer from my YMCA, who was running her first marathon. Knowing she was quite fast and competitive, it was great to talk with her at the start and to hang with a friendly face.

Kris Hinrichs took the microphone, pumped us all up and then we were off, blasting out of the parking lot, hanging a right, and heading south on the now 26.15 mile trek to the finish line.

It was sunny and cool, with no breeze – probably still in the 40’s. And actually with no breeze, and as the first part of the course was somewhat sheltered, I actually warmed up pretty quickly. Also, it was slightly humid, so my sunglasses were fogging over, which made it difficult to navigate through the crowd. Some wardrobe malfunctions suck!

The course is pretty rural for the first while, taking some rights and lefts along country roads, farm fields and rolling Southeastern Wisconsin terrain. As always, one of my favorite touches is just before the two mile mark, as the course turns right on to some Alphabet-lettered road, there is an Accordian player, with a full PA system cranking out polka tunes for all of us runners as we go cruising by. He’s been there every time I’m run this race. Only in Wisconsin!

So as I had been contemplating the effort that morning awhile before, standing at the start line with Lisa Turner, I had gauged my energy level and concluded that I had absolutely no feel for how my performance would be that day. I’ll blog about this at some other date, however, my training had been as usual totally lacking in Marathon-based efforts, with the sole exception of three Half Marathons I’d run on August 16, August 30th, and September 23rd, two weeks before this race. All had gone pretty incredibly well, however, that’s only “half way”. So, and, as I did feel pretty unenergetic at the start, I had no idea how I would fare.

For lack of a better word, I blasted off from the start, clipping along right from the start at Half Marathon pace. My GPS showed that I was maintaining an average 8:14 or so mile for the first nine or ten miles, not necessarily my typical Mid-pack pace. “This can’t last” I’m thinking to myself as the miles rolled along. While trying not to energize the thought, I was wondering if at some point the wheels were going to fall off and I’d experience a spectacular dismount, having to hobble in for some distance. Nonetheless, since I felt good, I kept going.

We started reaching more civilization as the miles rolled by. There were very regular water stops every two miles or so, water, Gatorade, enthusiastic volunteers and music. I clipped along, keeping the pace alive mile after mile.

The course is not actually all along, or in sight of, Lake Michigan, however it does cover many of the Lakefront Communities in Southeastern Wisconsin, including Grafton, Mequon, Bayside, Fox Point, Whitefish Bay, and finally, Milwaukee. Of course, this is also some of the highest priced Real Estate in this area of the country so the roads are pretty good for the most part. Each town has a sign or something at some point so you know what progress you are making. And I, for one, love point-to-point courses such as this – it feels like you’ve really “covered some ground” rather than running in a big loop.

The miles were very well marked, and my GPS was pretty well synched with the markers which, due to my pace, seem to come pretty quickly. And indeed, the elevation is good – while the course does roll and there are definitely some uphill stretches, it is a net downhill course and the downhills come at great times later in the race and in very stellar scenic places.

And, the Milwaukee Marathon is quite spectator friendly. It also has a marathon relay which is quite popular and the spectator guide which is also a nice touch tells the spectators where they can go along the course to cheer for their runners. And, one other nice touch – your name is on your bib as well, so people can cheer for you by name.

So, I blasted along, enjoying the scenery, water stops and pace. I didn’t really get a chance to talk to anyone much, however, after working the spectators for awhile, I soon acquired a following. “Go Maniac!” A few of them shouted, however, there wasn’t much recognition of the Yellow Flag I was flying.

Turned off the half at around 1:49 on the GPS, on good schedule, and rounded a bend around mile 13.5 – and ran through a sea of spectators. In short order I saw

1) Mary Olson, my good spin friend from the YMCA, who was waiting for her daughter Megan, who was running her first marathon. I stopped to high-five her. “Go! Run!!! She shouted at me. Thanks Mary!!!
2) Patty Lohr, wife of my long-time Chicago running colleague Ralph, who shouted at me from the crowd, giving me a lift. Ralph, apparently was some where behind me. Great to see you Patti!!
3) Joel, A running colleague I had met in Nashotah park the week before who was helping direct traffic and shouted at me “Have a great time in Arizona, Peter!” Thanks Joel – see you in the spring!

Quite the spectator treat, and it gave me a very needed lift to charge into the second half of the race. Another thing I love about this race – its small enough and spectator friendly enough that you can get some great interaction.

So, charge into the second half I did, running down the Wisconsin roads, through the Lakefront towns, and heading, inexorably, towards the lakefront, time ticking by. Around mile 15, the clouds started rolling in and a wind started picking up, however, it had the effect of cooling things off perfectly and didn’t become a stiff headwind to battle or anything – basically, it kept the heat of the day at bay, and provided ideal running conditions.

I kept hearing snatches of conversations, runners discussing pace, nutrition, cramping, blisters. At one point I got in a pack of runners and we were in lockstep for about a mile and a half. I would pass some of them, only to get passed by them again, and on and on. It was like a last 10K do-si-do, however, this was between mile 16 and 20 and too soon to pour it on – also too soon to take anything seriously. However, I ultimately prevailed as they started to fade as the miles continued to roll by.

I began getting views of the lake somewhere in there, and began also doing some zig-zagging through some suburban streets, through parks, along parkways, and down some steep hills. Around mile 19, an athletic black girl cruised effortlessly past me. “Go Maniac!” She shouted as she eased by. “I’m number (something) she shouted over her shoulder. “Go Maniac Yourself!” I called, watching her draw quickly away and admiring her late race kick.

The first of the “twenties” rolled by quickly, 21, 22 and 23, where I again got to see Ralph’s family as Patti jumped out and took my picture. Soon after that, at some point (can’t remember exactly) , standing by a mile marker and a City Sign, a tall, middle age man, called out “Welcome to Milwaukee – you’re almost home!” and indeed we were.

By now, I’m sweeping down the last hill and along the lakefront. The headwind has picked up a little (in Milwaukee, there is ALWAYS a headwind for the last few miles) and I’m getting ready to be done. The lake off to my left looks choppy and the clouds were thickening overhead. My pace per mile has faded slightly by now, however, I decided to quit looking at my watch and focus my energy on the getting to the finish.

I run through along the lakefront sidewalk, through the two final water stops, and onto the grass by the lagoon. The final mile or so winds through veterans park and you can hear the finish line, but not see it. I wove in and out of the boat lagoons, along the bike paths, over the sidewalks, making right and left hand turns. Close to the finish line, I spot Rocky from the YMCA, who is on a bicycle apparently being a spectator. “Still running!” he shouts. “Almost there!” I grunt as I cruise by. I turn into the final, long stretch and see the finish line in front of me and manage to put on a burst of speed, passing a few people in the final stretch. The spectators are loudly enthusiastic and I pump my hands into the air, hearing cheers and shrieks as I get closer. I cross the finish line right after the clock ticks over 3:45, raising my hands above my head in victory as the finish line photo is snapped. I then punch my GPS, breathlessly say hi to Kris Hinrichs, the race director who is standing right at the finish and continue on to the chutes. My GPS registers a 3:44:50, later my chip time will come in as 3:44:47 (an 8:35 per mile pace), placing me 491 out of 1945 finishers, 67 out of 160 in my age group and 387 out of 1,187 male finishers. Upper third, I’m thinking.

This, however, as alert readers might notice, rates as my fastest Marathon time this Century – by a long stretch. The last time I ran a marathon this fast, was back in 1996, when I was, of course, much younger and in fact actually trained for the distance. And also, compared to my other finish times at the Lakefront, again, this set a course record, smashing my previous finish times, by 23 plus minutes.

So what’s up with that? Well, I actually don’t know. Perhaps it was the Half Marathon training I did this summer (blog to follow). Perhaps the sushi/pesto combination helped. Perhaps a judicious dose or two of Miller Lite over the past few months has rewired the neural net. Maybe it’s because it was four months since my last marathon and I was “rested’?

Or, perhaps it was just my day. Either way, I’m more than pleased with the whole experience. Great course, great support, great weather, great time!!! We’ll see what the next one brings

Anyway, I continued through the chutes, picking up a really nice looking finishers medal, a mylar blanket (which I needed – the cool breeze was chilling me off rather quickly) and a bottle or two of water. I hung a right out of the finishers chute, and there was the gear check where an alert volunteer saw my bib, and had my bag waiting for me.

I love this race!
LFM Finishers Medal

The runners exit into an area which includes a massage tent (which, once I decided to notice it, the line was too long) a changing area, and the food tent, which is for runners only, and had plenty of fruit, cookies, soda and other great libations. I ran into Michelle, the other Maniac there who had turned off an amazing time that day as well, and we had a great talk about the race, the Maniacs and all things running, while we stretched and she picked up her gear bag.

I changed in the Men’s changing tent, shucking off my wet clothes and putting on my sweats, which was GREAT, and went back outside where I went over to the finish line in time to see Jim Nowakowski finish, as well as my colleague Ralph, who cruised across the finish line around the same time. Chatted with Ralph a little as he came through the chutes, and then went and said hi to his family, where I received a big hug from Patti, who said she was “so proud of me!” Thanks Patti!

Leaving Ralph and his family, I again bump into Denise and Sue from Forest Park, who had a great race and finished somewhere under four hours. They both seemed happy, and we got to talk for awhile as we toured the merchandise tents, where there were some unbelievable deals, including shirts for a dollar and half price apparel. Once again, I refrained from purchasing – I have soooo many t-shirts and sweatshirts, I just can’t justify buying more – regardless of the deal.

It was there, while having a great conversation with Denise and Sue that I saw one of my ex-girl friends, Sally, who was apparently working the Merchandise tent of the LFM. While I was raptly listening to a story from Denise, whoah, there goes Sally cruising by a few feet in front of my nose, apparently checking the tables. Sally, who is remarried now, used to be the Packet Pickup Captain, and it was a short three years previously in 2005 that, while we were “dating” I had Co-Captained with her for packet pickup, and then ran the race as well, marking the last time I had done LFM previously. Sally looked tired, and we didn’t speak, however, I mentally wished her well in her new life and marriage. Life does move on, and, as I have learned, it continues to be an an amazing experience!

Denise and Sue were having their finishers medals engraved with their finish time (another new and cool feature of this race) and so I gave them my card to reference the blog – if you’re tuning in, girls – great to run with you! Hope to see you in another race soon! Next time, I'll try the Rice Krispy Treats...... Then, I headed back to the Toyota, a short walk across the field. Off in the distance, there were still people finishing the race, however, I had had enough fun for the day. Got back to the Toyota, eased across the grass and onto the street, and soon I’m accelerating up the ramp onto I-94 heading west, and firing up the Cellphone to call Cayelin and report on my progress. As I get a few miles West of the finish area, the first raindrops start hitting my windshield, and by the time I’m clear of Milwaukee, it has turned into a full downpour. Perfect timing!! I head home, shower, fire up the woodstove, and watch the cold rain fall for the rest of the day, enjoying some leftover pesto, a few cold ones, some football, and the thrill of a race well run.

As a post-script, I learned later that Lisa Turner had turned out an incredible 3:33 for this, her first marathon, neatly qualifying her for Boston. Congratulations, Lisa!!

So, I’m blogging in reverse right now, so you know what my next big race was – the 10 miler in Tucson, however the next weekend before that and before leaving Wisconsin, I also ran a very hilly 10K in Wales Wisconsin, with Greg Searcy, Lisa, Liza, Jack and Julie and Liza played paparazzi, providing these very cool photos. (see below) Thanks Liza!! Next up on the blog– Half Marathon Maniac?

Thanks for reading everyone – hope to see you all at a race soon!

Wales 10K - Photo by Liza

Me and Greg Searcy at the Wales 10K - photo by Liza

Back to the Desert - The Carondelet 10-Mile Race Report

Back to the Desert – the Carondelet “Get Moving Tucson” 10-Mile Race Report

The sky is still as a spinning top,
shooting stars drop like burning words from above
If I could just connect all these dots,
the truth would tumble like a Cynic vexed by love
And yet the people keep sayingI'm miles from my home,
miles from my home…..

Cowboy Junkies “Miles from Our Home”


Speaking of Marathons……..

After a pretty outstanding summer tearing up the Southeastern Wisconsin Race Circuit, I left my home in Oconomowoc in the Toyota on Monday Morning, October 13 at 7:53 am SHARP and headed back to Tucson to our Winter Digs.

It was indeed time to put down the Miller Lite, extinguish the cigar, and get back to my partner Cayelin Castell and our life in the Desert. She'd been out there since early August, while I'd been having my fun on Lake Okauchee.

And, also, apparently to return to my blog, which, alert readers will notice, I haven’t posted to since my self-congratulatory story regarding the Valley of Gold Half Marathon in Tucson last March.

It hasn’t been that I haven’t been running – quite the contrary – it’s just that the Muse, and maybe also the time to write has been non-existent since I left Tucson on the first of May.

Either way, lots to catch up on. And, I’ll probably do it in reverse order, or LIFO – meaning, writing about my most recent running experiences and then backing up to some of the other spring and summer experiences

So, off I went on Monday, headed west to Johnson Creek on I-94, south on 26 to I-39, and then down through Illinois, picking up I-55 in Bloomington. Crossed the Mississippi at St. Louis, picking up I-44, and angled down through Missouri to Oklahoma. Emptied out onto I-40 and then fetched up west of Oklahoma City around 10:00 pm for the first night. 890 miles for the day.

On the road at 7:30 am Tuesday after the Best Western Complimentary Breakfast, which, gave me some not-so-complimentary Heartburn for most of the day. Continued west on I-40 through a driving rain storm, walls of water sheeting off the 18-wheelers and SUV’s in my path. Crossed the rest of Oklahoma, and the top of Texas, blasting through Amarillo in the early afternoon. Exited Texas, cranked it up to 85 MPH and made it to Albuquerque by late afternoon, though with the two hour time difference, I’m now ahead of the game. Hung a sharp left in the middle of Albuquerque, where now I’m finally and thankfully out of the rain, and arrowed south, down through the center of New Mexico on I-25, with stunning desert vistas, mountains, clouds, and rolling countryside. Exiting at the Hatch/Deming crossover, I headed straight west into the setting sun for what seemed like forever on some rough New Mexico two-lane, before picking up I-10 west for the home stretch into Tucson. By now, I’m at hour 25 of this marathon drive, the sun has set and I’m getting a little punchy, so I broke out the emergency M&M’s and Pepsi, and made the final push. Picked up a GREAT classic Rock Station, complete with Pink Floyd and vintage Yes tunes, that brought me home in fine style. I arrived at 8:00 pm local time on the dot, 1.890 miles and 27 hours in my Toyota.

And, what better way to celebrate my southwest homecoming, but to run a race the first weekend?

So, Saturday morning at 7:30 am found me toeing the line in downtown Tucson at the Carondelet “Get Moving Tucson” Ten Miler.

Lotta “T’s” in that sentence, si?

Anyway, this race was a very largely attended, very well hyped event that began and ended at the Tucson Convention center, a nine minute ride down the Aviation Freeway from our South Tucson Home.

I arrived about 6:40 am parked in the front row of one of several huge parking lots and , picked up my bib and a Barney-Purple T-shirt in about two minutes. Having some time to kill, I wandered around a little. They had a few booths and a huge tent set up in one of the parking areas fronting the convention center, where they were serving fruit and bagels to all of the runners and walkers, giving away hundreds of spring-loaded bracelet whistles and bells, apparently to blow or ring as you ran or walked, and handing out healthy lifestyle literature. Carondelet is the local Hospital Corporate entity (Think “Aurora Health Care” you Wisconsonites, or “Advocate Health Care” you Illinois people) This was one of their annual outreaches to the community to promote a healthy lifestyle. The event was put on in partnership with “SAR” or Southern Arizona Roadrunners, the local running club of which I’m a snowbird member. SAR had their own tent there, and were handing out brochures for the upcoming races as well as promoting new members. I stopped by to get my fill of race applications and struck up a conversation with Sherilen, Blonde-Ponytailed SAR Office Manager, who was very peppy and waxed enthusiastically about being from Salt Lake City, where there has already been four inches of snow. I countered with my “just-drove-here-from-Wisconsin” rap, and we chortled over all of you people out there who will be freezing come a few weeks from now, while we, the smart Snowbirds will be running in shorts OUTSIDE!

Anyway, apparently being charmed by my chatter, she gifted me with a copy of this years version of the SAR member T-shirt (why yes, another T-shirt, which gawd-knows I need one!) It’s a cool tan version this year, instead of the fire engine red one I received upon signing up last year. So, now I have two, and also possibly some volunteer opportunities. Welcome to Tucson!

Later, I’m at the start line, as mentioned and after an agonizing version of the Star Spangled Banner, the announcer gamely tried to draw out the suspense with a long count down, and Bang! We’re off, through a balloon arch onto the course.

There was a 5k attached to the race as well as the 10-miler, runners, walkers, etc all started at the same time. No chip timing, and consequently, of course all the slower walkers and shorter distance runners were clustered up front. I weaved and dodged and juked around them, and got up to cruising speed after the first two blocks or so but not before a sprinter in front of me, after apparently blasting off, gasped to their friend “That’s it for me” and stopped dead in front of me, necessitating deployment of the Bat Chute as I tried not to run them completely over. Still, it was close.

So, after that near miss, I’m up to speed fairly quickly, though feeling several things. One, it’s dry in Tucson.

Really REALLY dry. In the first few blocks, my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, making me regret not hydrating more before we started

Secondly, I’m feeling pretty draggy. Not only am I slightly jet lagged from the two hour time change, I’m also feeling my 1,890 mile drive from a few days before, as well as the lack of running since a 10k the weekend before, AND some very slight residue from a Marathon two weeks before that. (more on that later!)

And thirdly, I’m feeling the heavier gravity of 2,600 feet above sea level – though it’s only an additional 1,800 feet above what we are used to in Wisconsin, hey, I feel it each time I come here – and it takes a week or two for me to get used to

So, I’m thinking this won’t be one of my faster days.

The course was pretty cool, though eclectic. There was a lot of weird out and back segments, and we ran on everything from suburban streets, to industrial areas, then onto the Aviation Bike way – and back, then out onto the Barraza-Aviation Highway, of all things, and then back onto another bike path, where we went out…and then back, and into downtown Tucson – first up Fourth Avenue (where the 1960’s are alive and well – there is everything from Tie-Dye stores, to Tattoo Parlors, Hookah Bars, and all kinds of 1960’s psychedelic artwork, as well as the Casbah Tea House, a local vegan destination spot)…and then after going around a corner on University (Where the U of A is) and down University for a block, we made a U-turn, doubling back again, on University, ran back to the corner, hung a left and ran back DOWN Fourth Avenue.

Much of the course featured that out and back and it seemed like for half the race I was passing streams of other runners going the other way – first the faster ones on my right and then the slower ones as I came back the same way.

I have to say that not only is there a large Tucson Running Community, but also these suckers are FAST! Both the men and the women. They are all lean, fit and desert hardened, and I have no idea how they train all summer in the blistering heat in Tucson. As I was coming past the second mile mark, I came to the first of the out and back segments and caught sight of the lead runners as they were coming “back” on that segment. Checking my watch, I noted that it was around 16 minutes, which later showed that these leaders had already passed by a large distance the THREE mile marker at that point. The looked like Cars, cruising at about 30 MPH as they blew past me going the other directions. Woosh!

So, as mentioned, a lot of the course was a two-way street, literally. The course was both very well marked and supported. There were large white arrows, plastered on the ground every 20-30 feet with Field Marking Chalk so you were never in doubt as to where the course was going. And, there were a goodly amount of enthusiastically staffed water stops, though some doubled as both an out and back one, which meant that at some points there were two miles between stops, which for me, the non-desert acclimated boy, made things pretty dry. As a result, I had to stop and make like a camel at each stop, inhaling several cups of water each time.

And, there was only water at each stop – no Gatorade, sports drink or sports gel. Again, these rugged Desert types…they are minimalists!

During the race, at mile three or so, I came upon a guy about my age, who was sporting on of those Camelbak water back packs. It seemed he was toting about a gallon and half of water on his back, and was clipping (or more correctly, Sloshing) along at my pace. In my mind, I instantly dubbed him “CamelBack Man” and figured he was my competition for the day. We ran side by side for a few feet and then he accelerated, apparently being better hydrated than me, as he didn’t have to stop at the water stops. We traded the lead a few times in the first half of the race, and then, after I took a longer water stop as I got more desiccated, he managed to get ahead of me quite a bit.

No matter – I’m already resigned to the fact that this isn’t one of my better days. Have I mentioned that?

Still, I managed to slog along at an okay pace, by my GPS, I was averaging a solid 8:00 to 8:01 pace for the first five miles, and then, apparently, altitude, dryness and over tiredness set in, and I started dropping towards the dreaded 8:15 pace per mile, in the latter miles. Oh well.

I ran over a set of bridges spanning the freeways and Railroad yards, then up, then down Fourth avenue, which took me through miles 7,8 and 9, and then dug in for the final mile, which was first through an industrial area, underneath the deepest bypass in Tucson, and then emptied into the Downtown Tucson Mall, where we weaved, U-turned, and traversed over several walkways, bridges, plazas, and past fountains, finally spitting out into the last quarter mile stretch of road, and a quick U-turn back to the finish line under the same Balloon arch.

As I was emerging from the bypass in the last mile, I once again came upon “CamelBak man”, who was flagging by then. I thought “you’re mine, Sucker” and dug in hard and passed him up. He attempted to catch up to me, however, lugging all that water must have taken it’s toll, because he didn’t have anything to catch me with. After traversing the mall, weaving in and out of the fountains and up and down the walkways, I traversed the final street, hung the final left and thundered into the finish line. The clock read 1:21:50 – a not-so-stellar ten mile time for me, however, it’s consistent with my recent performance on the distance, so I wasn’t too chagrined.

Later I learned that while I was in the upper third of the finishers that day (160 out of 460), my age group placement was a dismal 17. Indeed, these Tuscsonians – the top 15 finishers were well under an hour, the top finisher was around 51 minutes for the distance AND for me to get close to an age group placement, I would have had to break a 6:25 minute pace for the course, instead of my shuffling 8:11.

And also, an Arizona thing – the Age groups were 10-years wide, making the competition that much stiffer.

Still, it’s okay to be a mid packer. I got to see all the sights, and again, am not unhappy with my finish time. Perhaps with my return to Reid Park and doing laps there again, I too, will be come Lean, Fit, and Desert-Hardened after a time.

Who knows?

Post race, there were large quantities of fruit and cookies (including some VERY green Bananas) an abundance of Gatorade and bottled water, and a really good cover band up on a stage turning out some classic rock and roll. There was also a raffle, however, not needing any more stuff, plus, as the announcer intoned to the crowd “It’s starting to get pretty warm out here!” I elected not to stay.

I downed some water and Gatorade, retrieved my new SAR shirt from Sherilen, and headed back home.

I think they did a good job on this race, the course, support, timing and logistics were great. Coulda used a little Gatorade on the course, and of course the five year age groups are better (not that it would have made a difference in My case), however I know I’d do this one again. It’s a great distance and a good training run, and I have an opportunity to beat my time next year. The entry fee was a little stiff at $40 though, I’m not sure that it wasn’t because I was a late sign up, however, that was still pretty high.

Either way, it’s good to be back in Tucson!

So, what’s next? Well, the race circuit does heat up here (hah!) in the fall and winter. I have, potentially on the docket before Thanksgiving, a 10K, a Half Marathon, a couple of 5k’s, perhaps another 10K and who knows what all? This is indeed their racing season here, when the weather breaks and the heat is less intense. I’m planning on a quick return to the Midwest in December to catch up with my community there, and my next scheduled stab at the 26.2 is at the PF Chang Rock And Roll Arizona in January, where my Midwest buddies Rhonda and others will hopefully be joining, and I can run once again with my good friend Mark from Phoenix, who has had a great racing season also.

I am also intending on catching you up with the summer race circuit experiences, including Three Marathons (Eugene, Madison and my Return to the Milwaukee Lakefront a few weeks back), Three stellar Half Marathons, as well as a plethora of 5K’s, 10K’s, four milers, two milers and a ten miler or two. Lots to catch up on and some surprising experiences as well

So, stay tuned, and I hope to see you all at a race soon!

Local Class and Rocking Portopotties - The Arizona Distance Classic Report

The Arizona Distance Classic Report

It doesn’t hurt me
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn’t hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I’m making?
You, it's you and me.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with god,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

Kate Bush, Running up that Hill

I did the Arizona Distance Classic Valley of Gold Half Marathon (A John Bingham Race) in Oro Valley on Sunday March 16

It almost seems like it takes longer to recite and type the title than it does to run the race

At least for me – (and I’ll cut to the chase right away on this one) On a very hilly and windy course at altitudes between 2800 and 3200 feet, I turned off a very cool 1:46:26 placing me 11th in my age group, 121 overall out of 755, and the 93rd out of 294 males that finished today. (Pay attention to these stats, there is something that you alert readers should notice. I’ll comment later)

Either way, this was my fastest half marathon time since 1992 (and in 1992, I was almost 16 years younger). This is also anywhere from 8-10 minutes faster than the half marathon times I was posting at this time last year as well.

For this race, I went out with a good edge from the starting gun and also had a lot to pour on in the last 5K. And, I kept thinking how cool it was that there was "only" 13.1 miles to run.

Only a “Half”.

All this clean living is really paying off.

I'm finally getting what an incredible blessing being a snowbird is - I've gotten stronger and faster being able to train outside all winter And, also at some minor altitude as well. Thank you Reid Park!

The race was held at the Ventana Medical Center in Oro Valley which is just north of Tucson on Oracle Road. In fact, my constant readers may recognize that this race was held at the EXACT spot at which I parked at to catch the bus to the starting line of the ill-fated Tucson Marathon last December. I parked in the exact same parking lot, but this time, I only had to walk across the street to get to the race festivities.

I drove the half hour up to pick up my packet on Saturday as I had some errands to run. In fact, it was just that – Packet Pickup. Get your shirt, get your chip, get out. There was no expo attached to this very largely-hyped event, but from my standpoint, who needed it? The good stuff came on Race Day. I did meet Carrie, one of the lead sponsors from the about-to-be-opened-in-Oro Valley 123 Fitness. She chatted with me about the race, while deftly stuffing packets with propaganda, and fielding volunteer issues.

(The T-shirt was a white Long-sleeve cotton, typical, with the Logo on the front and sponsors on the back. I’ve already found an excellent recipient for this one. Jean, it’s in the mail!)

The weather in Tucson had turned worse on Saturday night. We had been in the 80’s with Sunny Skies all week, very summery, but that night the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. After listening to the wind howl all night, I got up early and headed back across town.

In short order I was parked and using the very sparsely attended Porto potties. And here was something comedic. Somehow, the Porto potties were resting on some sort of tilted skids, and not properly tied down. As people got in to use them, they would buck violently back and forth, like one of those quarter-driven storefront Bucking Bronco rides of my youth. As a result, I darn near spattered my shoes. And from outside, it looked absolutely hysterical. From inside there was nothing you could do, even if you stood rock still, the entire structure wobbled and rocked like some crazed and intoxicated Weebil.

As I exited, I flashed a grin at the chuckling spectators who had lined up as I was within. “Yee-hah!” I said, and they all burst out laughing.

John “The Penguin” Bingham, he of Runners World fame was the sponsor for this event, and indeed, he is really good at throwing a huge party as it were, pumping up the crowd and really sending out high energy. It was soon time to line up for the start, and over the PA System, he made several Penguin-like comments, such as “You’ve paid to have this course open for four hours! Take your time and enjoy! Pretend it’s Disney Land! And “Make sure you start off slow and then just taper off!” A countdown clock hung over the start line counting down the minutes to 7:00 am. A minute before the start, John climbed into a Mustang convertible to lead the race, the Mayor of Oro Valley took over the Microphone, and at exactly the stroke of 7:00 am we were off.

It was cool, with some clouds over the Catalina’s and the sun was not over the mountains yet. Rain was threatened, but the wind was not AS fierce as it had been all night, though it was constant throughout the course. Temperature was in the high 40’s and I was a little cool in a short sleeve technical shirt and shorts.

As mentioned, I took off pretty quick downhill, around a corner, and then started heading uphill for what seemed like the first half of the race. I was dogged for most of the first three miles by the 1:50 pace group, which consisted of one guy, decked out in Gloves and Hat and carrying a bobbing blue sign. I tried to engage him in conversation, but he was totally uninterested, and stiffly repelled my conversational forays. Fine. I dug in a little more and after the third mile, left him behind.

I did run the first mile or so with Barb from Louisiana, who shared in that short time we ran together that she had only found out about the race last night, had done a 12 mile training run the day before and had no idea what she was going to do. And, after telling me this, she put her head down, picked up the pace and was soon far off in the distance ahead of me.

The course was an out and back, a zigzagging loop on four lane road, going out on one side and back on the other, far side. It was entirely through the Dell Webb-built Golf Communities of Oro Valley, those never-ending subdivisions of ubiquitous ranch-style adobe homes that all look alike, where Senior citizens tool around all day in Golf Carts and eat at 4:00 pm every day to get the early bird specials. Not much scenery, though the mountains always made a great back drop. And, not much crowd support either – spectators, though enthusiastic, were few and far between.

And, as mentioned, the hills. I couldn’t find an elevation map on the website, but my GPS later showed a meandering, mostly uphill (both ways) course.

Plenty of water stops, about every 2 miles. As it wasn’t hot, I mostly partook of the Gatorade they offered.

I really hadn’t taken this race seriously. I had no meds, no gel packs, did minimal chafe protection and only took the day before off from running (Saturday - and mostly because I was pretty tired from the busy week I had) Anyway, I treated it much like a 10K in that I took off pretty quick, kept a stiff pace for most of the miles, and, in the last four miles or so, turned it on.

After mile 3, I was pretty much running alone the whole race, though I saw as the race turned around and runners started coming back, a stream of runners ahead of me. I thought to myself, “You know, I’m just not fast” and, I really am not, though today I did pretty well. The best part I remember is that I held a pretty steady 8:15 pace for the first five miles or so, and then started shaving that down in each mile after that. After turning around at the 6.55 mile mark, and returning the way I had come, I began picking runners off one at a time.

I kept sneaking glances at my GPS to track the miles. Each time, and without fail, I hit it on the Sixes – 3.6, 4.6, 5.6, etc

Speaking of GPS, this course was obviously measured using a Garmin Forerunner 205. Specifically, MY Garmin Forerunner 205. Each mile marker was within .01 miles of what my GPS said (5.01 for 5, 7.99 for 8 for example). And at the finish line, my readout was EXACTLY 13.1 miles. Go figure! Is there that much course skew on the other races? Or in Oro Valley, are the Satellites better?

Or, because I was running faster, does the GPS keep up more accurately?

Who knows. Today, my erratic GPS was dead bang on!

Starting at Mile 11, there was a big downhill stretch (that I had remembered as a big UPHILL stretch from the “out” portion) and I was all alone at the time. I poured it on, hammering down the hill and really feeling fast. At one point I looked at my GPS and it had me clocking at a 6:55 mile. Very cool.

So, after hammering down the hill for almost two miles, we crossed a long dry wash, and hung a right and the Finish line was about a block and a half away. I kept up the pace, in fact increasing it for the last 200 yard and crossed the mats holding my hands up high. Clock time of 1:46:32, later my chip time knocked off six seconds off that.

John Bingham called my name as I crossed, and ad-libbed something about my looking great.

I went down the L-shaped finishers chute, collecting a bottle of water, a bottle of Gatorade, and a bottle of “Snapple Anti-oxidant Water”

I drank the plain water, anyway.

Staggering under the load of these new possessions, I had my chip cut off, received my medal – a cool Black Ribboned gold one, with the Bingham Penguin Logo on the back (they were handing them out, not draping them on you though) and met Barb-from-Louisiana in the Chutes. She had been two minutes in front of me and had a blast. We had a finishers photo done together for the heck of it as neither of us would buy one anyway. Here is the link, I am bib number 772 http://www.runphotos.com/browse.cfm

The finish line was pretty cool. There were several laptop computers set up so you could actually check your results immediately. I instantly signed up for a “massage stretch” and there were other vendors, including Chiropractors and Nutritional people. However, there wasn’t much food – Bagels and very Green Bananas was it. And, they were really pushing the Anti-Oxidant water, I saw several people carrying entire cases to their cars.

I refrained. It didn’t look too good.

I had to get some warm clothes right away. The wind picked up and rain started spattering and if anything, the temperature started dropping. I was freezing, so went off to the car to get some dry clothes.

Finish Line Photos, more story below:

I returned for my massage stretch, an outstanding thing to do, with a very adept therapist named Bryan. After wandering around for a bit, shooting a few photos (see them below) it was time to go home. Oh, and to stop on the way at Nico’s Taco Shop and get a Chorizo-and-Egg Burrito, my new Tucson Post-Race Libation.

I half to say (ha!) that the Half Marathon is really a perfect race. Not a full Marathon, which I love, but a different experience. It’s not the 20-something minute 5K sprint, but kind of a nice medium-length conversation, with some opportunity to push. Usually less than two hours, but with a finishers medal. And, not much training necessary, most anyone could walk it should they choose. And, you could do back to back halves on a weekend if you really wanted to.

And, the Half Marathon is getting really popular! You may remember that in Carlsbad in January, the people running the Half, outnumbered the full marathon people 7 to 1 – 6,300 Half Marathoners, 900 full marathoners. And indeed – and here is the thing to notice from the Stats above - more and more Women are doing the Half marathon distance – today they outnumbered the men 462 to 293 = 40% more women went the distance today. That is so cool!!

I haven’t counted how many Half’s I’ve done but maybe I will. And, once again, I’m guessing that this is some great training for the next time I tackle the 26.2

Which is hopefully soon. I’m having trouble pinning down either a March or April Marathon due to logistics the ever-increasing cost of Travel and also our very full lives here in Tucson. And, yesterday I signed up for the Eugene Oregon on May 4th, thanks to a kind invite from Laurence Taoman, who is returning to the distance after a hiatus of a few years. As that course is billed as Flat and Fast (a definite departure from my last six or so) who knows what could happen?.

And one other interesting thing. One of the Statistics that showed up in my Finishers info was something called “Age Grade” Mine said “Age Grade – 61.3%

Wondering what that meant, I clicked on the ? that was next to it and here is what popped up

Age-Graded Results

"AGE-GRADED" results are calculated using tables developed by the World Association of Veteran Athletes (the world governing body for masters track and field, long distance running and race walking). These tables were first published in 1989 and are frequently updated. The tables can be used in two ways: first, by comparing your time to a standard for your sex and age, you can determine your Performance Level Percent. These percentages can be interpreted as follows:
· 100% = Approximate World-Record Level
· Over 90% = World Class
· Over 80% = National Class
· Over 70% = Regional Class
· Over 60% = Local Class

So, that is cool – I’m “Local Class” in my age group. Maybe I’m not that slow after all!

However, and some of you may be thinking it would be really simple to do the math, and say, “Okay, your half time is 1:46, doesn’t that mean that you should be able to run about a 3:30 Full Marathon?

I wish. Hey, it’s twice the distance. And, I have run that fast, but it was about 16-18 years ago. But if I keep training and staying healthy, (and maybe with a friendly course) maybe I’ll continue to narrow the time down.

Thanks for reading everyone! Hope we can either go Half or All the Way together soon!

Running 5K's versus Marathons

5K’s versus Marathons

“Hurts my ears to listen, Shannon, burns my eyes to see. Cut down a man in cold blood, Shannon, Might as well be me…” (more) Jack Straw – Robert Hunter/Bob Weir, the Grateful Dead

I did the "Daves Run for ALS" 5K on Sunday in my NEW Winter Hometown Tucson

It's a pretty small race - maybe 150 people? And maybe not, I'm not a good counter

It's held at the Foothills Mall on the Northwest side of town. It took me longer to drive there than it did to run the race, about a half hour drive across town. And, in fact it is Three Circles around the outside parking lot of the Mall, and a turn in towards the inner stores after the third loop, to get you to 5K. The terrain rolls mildly, and is only broken by parking lot speed bumps and right hand turning.

I haven't done a 5K since Thanksgiving (See my blog from 2007 – “Turkey Trotting in Tucson) and that one really doesn't count being two weeks after the Broken Toe escapade and a cross country one at that. Hence, I didn't know what to expect. As I will elaborate on later, it's like fast food - in and out - versus a leisurely Thanksgiving Dinner spanning several hours. I've had three Thanksgiving dinners (Marathons) since my last 5K, and have been far more acclimated to the pace versus the full-throttle aspects of a 5K. And, it is important to note, that I am the absolute poster child for “slow twitch” versus “fast twitch” muscle groups. Not a sprinter. And, while it takes me a while to get going, once started, I can keep going…..and going…..and going…..

I've actually done this race before - last year, with surrogate stepdaughter Jenna. And, after last year’s race, we left soon after crossing the finish line, forgoing her second place in her age group finish award, as we hadn't even bothered to check the results. We didn’t even know she had placed. She's fast that girl - and getting faster. Youth. More on that some other time.

With that lesson in mind and also a fresh memory from last spring when I did a 10K called the Deer Run in Wisconsin, and walked away from an age group piece of tin by not checking posted results, I've learned not to “assume”. So, even though my time was virtually identical to last years (22:40 versus 22:39 - another year older and another second slower - Damn!) which didn't put me in the money the prior year, I waited for results.

(By the way, my GPS scored the course as a 3.18. I must be pretty erratic or my GPS is just continuing to screw with me.)

So, to my surprise, I placed third in my age group. By One single second. I didn't realize that some guy was trying to take me out at the finish, but he was. Didn't though. The reason I probably didn't notice was that immediately after crossing the finish line, I had to instantly and rapidly lateral sideways to avoid a teenage female track star who was violently puking her breakfast Cheerios all over the finish chutes.

And, the Third Place award (s) were an Iridescent (read Puke - apropos!) Yellow "Nike Store" tote bag AND a silver-colored plastic Nike Water Bottle. Had I been Second, I would have got a pair of athletic socks, in addition to the Nike Swag, and had I been First, a "Runners Shop" Gift Certificate would have been mine AS WELL AS the Nike Swag.

Too much Nike Swag. In retrospect, I'm actually sorry I waited. More plastic to litter the Landfill after I give it away.

As a result of that experience, and because I’m always looking to write about my running, I was inspired to do an as comprehensive as possible discussion of 5k’s versus Marathons. The differences are legion, not the least of which was the surly nature of this particular Tucsonian Sunday morning crowd. A mixed crowd, largely younger, cliquish, and unfriendly to outsiders (myself). It felt like a club that I didn’t belong to and wasn’t invited to. Before and after the race, I couldn't scare up a conversation to save my life. I think 5k's can be like that, crowd-wise. But, more on that later.

So, let’s start out with the obvious. 5k’s are shorter than Marathons. 23.1 miles to be exact. However, this is both a good thing, and a bad thing for many reasons.

5k’s are flat out, pedal to the metal, 110% of Max Heart rate anerobic sprints from the minute the gun goes off. Unlike the Marathon where you can actually use the FIRST 5k to hit your pace, you don’t have that luxury here.. You gotta get off the mark fast – and continue to run faster – to be a Player.

And indeed, they are over quickly. For me, in 22 minutes and 40 seconds today. (And, I’ve been faster, but I’ve never broken 20 minutes yet. Close, but not for 20 years.) Anyway, because you are so flat out the whole way, the course is meaningless. Scenery, crowd support, a fellow runners opinion – who cares? I am trying to keep the body moving just below the puke stage, so I honestly don’t give a rats ass what is going on around me. I just don’t want to trip or bump into someone, that’s my minimum considerations.

And also water stops. In 5k’s, every second counts. Stopping to take water eats into that severely – suppose you lose 10-15 seconds on a water stop? As a percentage of the total elapsed time, it is pretty substantial. And, with my personal physiology, snatching a cup and gulping it down doesn’t work. I wind up choking, coughing and wearing most of the liquid as a result. AND losing precious seconds. So, I usually forgo the water unless the heat is relentless that day. I figure that I can stand anything for 20-something minutes, so I usually just blast on through. And actually on many 5k’s I've run, they don’t even bother with water stops!

And, 5k’s really bring out the competitive animal in me, hence the lyrical excerpt at the top of this narrative. (sooner or later, I’m gonna get that entire song quoted, it’s one of my favorites and also one of my favorite running tunes) Many times I’ve found myself in the last half mile of a 5k running down someone who looks remotely my age in hopes of placing myself even further into the winners circle. Having Been That Guy, the one like today who missed the guy one second in front of him (Me) and was then 4th in his age bracket and out of the placement, I don’t like to give up when possible victory is in sight.

I don’t get that urge in Marathons, in fact, I’ve been known to purposely lag behind someone in a finishers stretch as they have been in front of me the whole race and I don’t feel it’s fair to run them down at the end of four hours. There ain’t a snowballs chance in hell that I would place in my age group at most marathons, so I can be more courtly and sportsmanlike, not being attached as it were. And hey, everyone goes home with the same finishers medal anyway, right?

And distance. I’ve driven for hours, and flown for thousands of miles to run a Marathon. Today, driving an hour round trip to do a 22 minute 5K really struck me as not the best use of my time. And, it added to the cost of the race – I’ll talk about that more later. I did it mostly because I wanted to do a race – any race- and this one was on the calendar and in the same town as me. (I do forget sometimes what a sprawling metropolis Tucson really is, not a sleepy little desert town) Anyway, once again, traveling to enjoy an extended, hours long experience, with a guaranteed finishers medal makes much more sense than doing the same for a 5k

And now for the crusher. Marathons, by the way, are more financially economical to run than 5k’s!. Yup, you got that right! Marathons are a much better deal. Simple math will tell you that.

For instance – This race, which I signed up for by check was discounted because of my membership in SAR, which cost $40 or so. Forgetting that (and I am because I can make an excellent case without it) the discounted entry fee was $16, payable by Check. I mailed in my entry form, so with stamp and all (and forget the envelope and pen ink, as well as printer cartridges and paper to print the online entry form) I’m out $16.41 for this race. For this, I got to run 3.1 miles. receive a pretty simple short-sleeved white T-shirt and partake of the simple finish line libations (which today were muffins and banana’s both which were cut in half, bagels which were cut in thirds and Water) Anyway, the cost per mile run works out to $5.29.

And okay, I know what you are thinking, you math wizards out there who want to suggest I use my GPS measurement for this calculation. I won’t do it!! Let’s keep it apples to apples here. Damn GPS. Another cost-per-mile.

So, here we go – compare this to my last Marathon, the Lost Dutchman. Even signing up late as I did, the entry fee, including the Usurious and Unconscionable Highway Robbery Active.com processing fees was $84.07. For that I received a long-sleeve T-shirt in a small bag of Swag, got bussed to the start line in fine style, where partook of some good start line libations, campfires, and clean Porto potties. Following this, I ran the 26.2 Very Well Supported Miles, where they fed, watered and gel packed me at very consistent intervals. I finished the race where I received a very high class multi-colored finishers medal, and partook of the finish line libations, which included all the bottled water I could want, a hot breakfast burrito WITH salsa, all of the above mentioned 5K snacks and then some. I could have also had a post-race massage had I chosen. My gear was transported to the finish for me and I picked it up easily. And then, I got a bus ride right back to my car as well.

Forgetting also that at this Marathon, I not only made a new friend, but also had several great conversations and connection with participants I had never met before, the economics are even better. The cost works out to $3.21 per mile. And, had I not missed the early discounted entry fee cutoff, it could have been an even more amazing $2.48 per mile, or less than HALF the per-mile cost of the 5K. For all this amazing stuff and hours of fun!!!!

(Imagine me chortling to myself as I make this case. Imagine the Judge, trying not to laugh as the Jury intones “Your honor, we find for the Plaintiff. Also, for the Bailiff. Case dismissed!” Except for the fact, of course, that if I am paying for plane tickets and hotel rooms, the per mile cost of the race shoots through the roof. However, you can write about that in your blog – and argue your case before the Jury. I like my argument better)

Taking this a step further, I think that Marathon crowds in general are more friendly and fun than 5K people. Again, here is that fast food versus Long, Leisurely dining comparison. Fast food is not a commitment, it is a convenience – in and out, get back on the road with your tank filled. There is little if any savoring of the experience, in many cases you want to get it over with as soon as you can. I think that is why, at 5K’s, there is typically a huge turn out of the younger teen-and-twenty-something runners here (especially the one hurling in the finish chutes) With the resident NPD and ADD of today’s youth, the time of a 5K it is all they can sustain an interest in time-wise, and then, after 20 minutes or a half hour, they need different stimulation.

(Okay that was a little harsh. But, I couldn’t resist. And, there has got to be at least a small nugget of truth there)

Ah, but the Marathon is an extended experience. For some (though not me) there are the months of training and anticipation. The Pre-race Expo, where you can, at some of the larger races obtain large bags of free Swag. Pre- and post race festivities. Many miles to run. Many hours to enjoy. Scenery that unfolds and changes. The whims of the weather, which can in fact shift during the time you are out on the course. The possibility of meeting a new friend or friends. The 50-state Club and Marathon Maniacs where you can be an instant member of a very large community. Being able to talk, enjoy, share (as you aren’t breathless the whole way). A thing to Savor and appreciate, as you would a fine multi-course meal, or again, Thanksgiving Dinner.

People are drawn to that which they resonate with, and while I have met some actual marathoners and made some great acquaintances at 5K events (including my good Friend Gregg Herman, who if he is still reading right now might be howling – sorry Gregg, but you are right – I like to run more than you do!! And, you have diplomatic immunity, this isn’t about you), I have made more and better friends during Marathons. Except of course, for Gregg, who is a great friend even if he won’t run a marathon with me. And Scott, who I met at a 5 mile race, became a Marathoner and has been a tour guide extraordinaire, taking me to Toronto, Quebec and Portland for some of the most amazing Marathon experiences of the collection.

(warning - Woo-woo time – if you don’t want a quick side trip to the New Age, scroll down about 4 paragraphs)

In Shamanic Astrology, we describe all of the 12 Astrological houses as having Archetypal qualities , meaning, that there might be certain tendencies embodied by individuals, based upon the major aspects and placements of the planets of their natal or birth chart.

Shamanic Astrology defines the Archetypal qualities of Taurus, as that of embodying Beauty, Pleasure, Intimacy, and Receivership – in essence, appreciating and savoring the “Garden of Earthly delights” Or, in blunt layman’s terms, really personally appreciating everything and every experience to the last drop. And, the more drops there are, well, that is even better.

In my Natal Astrological chart, I have both my Moon and Mars position in Taurus. Moon being Lineage, and Mars position being the Masculine identity - that’s a long way of saying that I have an inherent, inborn tendency to really savor my experiences. And to resonate with long-lasting experiences. As running races for me is really a total joy, that is why I like the long races – simply, it is just more to enjoy! I’m not a fast food guy if I can help it, so I more appreciate the long races and use my “Taurean Tendencies” to notice, enjoy and appreciate each aspect of the entire course. And, of course to write about them for you!

So, having said all this, made both the economic and personal case for the Marathon versus the 5K, you may be asking yourself, so, Peter – why the heck are you wasting your time with 5K’s?

Well, the answer is simple. To run better marathons. Embodying some of these other Taurean qualities as I do, I am also a totally lazy bastard when it comes to training as many of you have surmised from my blogs. I like to run races, but I don’t like to spend a lot of time training for them. 5K’s are designed to force me to do some speed work, to get me out of my normal every day shuffling 8:30 to 9:00 per mile pace. (in today’s 5K I averaged a 7:17 mile – THAT is a good pace out of the comfort zone for me!) And indeed, much of my success in getting my marathon times down back down below four hours in the last year had to do with doing several 5 and 10K races last summer, sometimes two in a weekend. (and indeed, I also collected my share of age group awards, by the way!) Without 5K races, honestly my reading friends, I would never EVER go out and do that kind of speed work and compete at that level. No way. It hurts too much. And no incentive - there isn’t any possibility of winning a medal (or some useless plastic) on a speed work session. Or, to cut another man down in cold blood……

There really aren’t any bad races, short or long. All of them are good in some way, just some are better than others. As for me, given the choice, I’ll go long every time. Not only is it a better deal, it is usually just a better experience. More bang for your Buck!

Either way, I hope to see you all at a race soon!

The Lost Dutchman Marathon Report - February 17, 2008

Lost Dutchman Marathon Report

There ain't a place a man can hide, Shannon, will keep him from the sun.

Ain't a bed can give us rest now, you keep us on the run

Keep on movin’, just a mile to go…..Keep on movin, my old buddy you’re moving much to slow….

Half a mile from Tucson, by the morning light. One man down and another to go, my old buddy you’re moving much too slow….

Jack Straw, Robert Hunter/Bob Weir – The Grateful Dead

It occurred to me over the last months or so that all of my race report blogs follow a very specific template.

I was reminded of this while reading two “trash” novels during my travels this month.

I’m a big fan of Clive Cussler books; he of the nautical thrillers, starring Dirk Pitt and the quasi-real resources of NUMA. Having read all 30 or so of Clive’s offerings, I noticed that he too, follows a specific template in all of his books.

The books begin with a flashback to a prior time – anytime from BCE, up to World War II.

There is some sort of Maritime Disaster. Or other disaster. A bad guy gets away. A treasure, or piece of information is lost, or hidden somewhere.

Enter current day. Somewhere, some intelligent, but beautiful woman is performing some research/exploration/excavation – who knows? Some disaster occurs. Dirk Pitt, who happened to be in the area, equipped with some amazing piece of technology, manages to save the babe, as well as her colleagues, in the nick of time against insurmountable odds. Dirk, of course, as he rescues the damsel, secures a dinner date with her.

Romance ensues. Intrigue follows. A bad guy, of some foreign extraction appears with desires of world domination or destruction. The lost treasure is pursued. At some point there is a trip to NUMA Headquarters to consult with some futuristic computer equipment with the resident Computer Genius Hiram Jaeger. There is always a big violent car chase, with Dirk Pitt driving one his many classic cars. The cars are always riddled with bullets or fly through the air, but Dirk always manages to get away while thwarting, or taking out some bad guys. Dirk and his ever-present buddy sidekick Al Giordano get captured, by the evil Villain who, confident that Dirk is helpless and doomed, monologues the whole world-domination/destruction scheme while placing Dirk and buddy Al, and sometimes the beautiful babe, in a slow lingering death situation.

They always manage to escape and, using the monologue information save the world in the nick of time, as bomb timers count down to next to zero, or some sort of thing. And, they retrieve some long lost treasure, like the Titanic, or the corpse of Genghis Khan.. The end of the book has them driving away in the now restored classic car while the public flocks to the new museum showcasing the lost but now found treasure.

And, as a Hitchcockian touch, Cussler started inserting himself into the novels a few years back. He usually shows up in the middle of nowhere, when hope appears lost to help Dirk and Al out of some jam. He always tells them his name, and they feign confusion to each other “He seems familiar, doesn’t he?”

They are all pretty good reading, those Clive Cussler books. Familiarity and consistency is sometimes nice to count on, when you want to be entertained or just zone with a novel.

Maybe not so much with my blogs, though.

So, my template seems to go something like this:

I make some pithy comments, or Rock and Roll Reference to the narrative I am about to write.
I travel to the race
I go to the expo and comment thereon
I get up the next day and head out
I get to the start line and comment about that
I make some observations about the weather
I run the race.
Narrate things that happened, like meeting someone fun, or not so fun.
Complain about the Elevation Map versus reality
Comment about Marathon Maniacs
The support is either good, okay, or something else.
The miles roll by
The last 10K is usually tough. Sometimes I come up with some Zen-like comments or insightful observations during that time
I cross the finish line, and, lately, I am miraculously under four hours despite my best efforts
I make observations about the finish line festivities, food, people, etc.
It either hurts, or doesn’t
I either like it or I don’t
And, I always comment on Medal and T-shirt

That’s my template, seemingly!

And you, my good friends and faithful readers tune in and share these things with me which I totally appreciate.

Now, I am not suggesting that I am on par, or even in the same writing Universe as Clive Cussler. As I am a Marathon runner, who, in my races at least am not “plugged in” to an I-pod to take me away from my mental processes (specific blog on this to follow), this whole template thing was something that percolated out of the grey matter during my Carlsbad experience.

Especially after I wrote that blog about Carlsbad.

That being said….and said for a few pages….

……I had an Awesome time at the Lost Dutchman Marathon on Sunday. My 41st marathon.

Now, I have done “the Dutchman” twice before. Once in January of 2004, shortly after my exodus from the Midwest and my previous life. The second time was last February (2007), kicking off my return to Marathoning after a 15 month Hiatus. I did not do a blog at the time, because……well, I don’t know why! I just started later that year, so there!

Anyway, I had a great familiarity with all of the aspects of this race, and indeed I felt very willing to come and experience the fun again. Even though this is by no means a “Flat and Fast Boston Qualifier” (it is, in fact a Boston Qualifier anyway) there are many great aspects to the whole “Dutchman Experience” that keeps me coming back.

The Lost Dutchman Marathon is held in Apache Junction, Arizona, which is a short drive east of Phoenix. The town is under the shadow of the Superstition Mountain Range, known as “The Superstitions” (oo-oo, LOVE that name – Superstitions! It brings chills to the spine and also starts Stevie Wonder singing in my head “Very Superstitious! Writing on the wall……..”)

Apache Junction is a small town, but has a great hometown atmosphere. The population seems to be largely retired people and they turn out in droves to volunteer for all aspects of this annual event. And, they bring a joy, enthusiasm and tremendous energy to making this a really great event for all concerned.

Arrived late afternoon on Saturday for Packet Pickup, which was held in the Apache Junction Community Center. Now, the Lost Dutchman Marathon is not the only race that day. In addition to the Marathon, there is a Half Marathon, a 10K, and 8K AND a 2 mile walk. Something for everyone! Packet pickup for all the races was at the same place, but again, the cadre of volunteers made it a seamless event. I knew that they were capping off the Marathon at 600 runners, and I don’t think it filled, anyway.

The Expo was really really small, befitting the understated nature of the races. I had not expected much, and wasn’t disappointed, Honestly though for me, the expo is not what it is all about. As I am a Race Veteran, it’s not about buying souvenirs, apparel and running gear – I do all that online, anyway. And, since I generally give away the shirt, it’s not about that either. And, the Lost Dutchman shirt was okay, a long sleeve cotton shirt with a Logo and lots of advertisers on the back. The real premium money for the event came later – more on that at the finish line.

Spent the night at Cayelin’s friend Pam’s house, east of Phoenix, watching great videos and eating about a quart and a half of Chicken Fried Rice and half a dozen pot stickers. Thanks again Pam! Hit the highway at 0400 to get to the bus stop for the start line as early as possible.

The Bus to the start departs from the Apache Junction Rodeo grounds, starting around 5:00 am for a 7:00 am start. Again, as I had run this race twice before, I knew it was a good idea to get there early, get some good parking and make sure you got on an early bus to get a good “campfire position” More on that in a minute.

Got there about 4:50 am, parked the Toyota in the dark, along with several other cars already there, and after some last minute gear shuffling, I dropped my remote in the trunk, tied the ignition key to my shoe and headed towards a line of bright Klieg lights marking the bus stop

I remembered this year, to take careful note of the position of my car, where I had parked. In years past, I had neglected this, parking in the dark and heading to the busses right away. This resulted in some extensive searching for my vehicle upon returning – in full daylight by then - at the exact time you don’t want (post race, with Frankenstein-legs) to be wandering around looking for your car in a large rodeo parking lot.

Got on the bus and grabbed a seat near the front. Noticed a guy sitting there wearing a Chicago Marathon Hat and Pullover.

“When did you run Chicago?” I inquired, settling into my seat.

“Nine Times” he replied.

Thus I met a new running colleague – Mark, from Phoenix. Having a mutual “Chicago Marathon” addiction (I’ve done it 13 times as faithful readers will remember) we had much to talk about. We passed the time on the drive to the starting line hollering over the roar of the bus engine at each other across the aisle, comparing Marathon stories and sharing other observations. As it turned out, we also ran almost the whole race together – and again, more on that later.

The starting line is a long bus ride on a dark desert highway, to the Peralta trailhead out in “The Superstitions” The bus took off from the rodeo grounds, and after a significant distance on Highway 60, took a left and started heading up hill. We soon left the pavement and were truly heading out into the sticks on an unpaved, muddy and rolling road.

Now, I had checked the Lost Dutchman Website home page prior to leaving on Saturday. A chill swept though me as I read the following:

Attention Full Marathoners: Due to the heavy rains we have had this winter, four of our normally dry ravines are still running across the first two miles of the marathon route. Right now the forecast is for rain today and clear sunny weather Saturday and Sunday. Currently the ravines are passable, however you will get your feet wet unless you are a really good long jumper. It is not a serious hazard, just a trickle of water, but up to 6 inches deep. Please use caution. IF we get a lot more rain today, we may have to change the course in which case the mileage will be correct, and your result, if you qualify for Boston, will be accepted by the BAA. Changing the start is very unlikely, but I want you to know in advance that it is a slight possibility. You will still be starting the alternate marathon course on Peralta Trail, but at a different point. We will do our very best to get you from start to finish safely. Thanks for your understanding. Based on the changing forecast, or the weather, I will update this message. –

Grady McEachern, Race Director.

Nice to know, I was thinking as I read this. The first six miles of the course are all on the rolling, dirt roads leading out of the Superstition trail areas and in years past, it had been mostly dry and dusty – and actually optimal running conditions, considering. The concern I had was getting wet feet in the first two miles, and then squishing and squelching my way for the next 24.2. I considered various scenarios, like wrapping my feet in plastic bags, carrying dry socks…. Not optimal, but hey, I’ve run in worse conditions. Finally though, I decided to just commit myself to Allah, and hope for the best.

Back to the bus ride. (Jeez, I’m on page 5 in this story, and I am still on the bus!) Anyway, the bus fell silent as we headed off road. All of the runners were peering intently ahead as we rolled up and down the hills headed to the encampment for the starting line. We were waiting to see the shine of deep puddles and water hazards as we descended into each wash.

Our bus driver, a very friendly lady, told us that there were a few wet places early on and they weren’t too bad. And indeed, as we got closer we did splash through some puddles at the bottom of some washes, none of which looked too terribly deep or bad. I resolved to traverse laterally, or do whatever I needed to do to stay dry.

We saw the starting line off in the distance – a ring of about 30 small blazing campfires Arriving at the trail head, our bus stopped and an exuberant lady entered. “Welcome to the Lost Dutchman Marathon! Your bus is going to turn around and you can get off, and join us around the campfires. There is snacks, water, coffee and Gatorade, the gear check bus is there (pointing) the Porto potties are there, and we will also have a warming bus if you get too cold. The race will start in about an hour at 7:00 am!” We all clapped, and she exited. After the bus went further up the trail and turned around, we all got off and headed to the campfires.

A really nice touch is that the race staff puts carpeting squares circling all of the campfires, which, by the way, were Dura flame logs, set alight and other sticks put on top. Mark and I picked a fire, claimed a carpet square apiece, and sat down to warm up, inhale some camp fire smoke and continue our conversation. The campfires with the dark Superstition mountains at our back lent a tribal air to the whole proceedings, making the actual upcoming race seem a bit surreal. Felt like Summer Camp.

Busses kept arriving, and soon the place was full, with about 350 runners wandering around, doing their pre-race routines. I was noshing on my new, and highly recommended pre-race bar – Bumblebar – an organic, honey and sesame seed-based energy system. Good stuff – and I am thinking about asking them to sponsor me - see more at http://www.bumblebar.com/

The sun began lightening the mountains to our back, and soon it was time to check gear, and head for the starting line. It was COLD, about 41 degrees (okay you Midwest people, I know that ain't nothing for what the winter has been like for you!) damp and humid, which was different for central Arizona in February, and I kept a long-sleeve t-shirt and throwaway gloves to keep me warm as we headed down to the start line.

At the starting line, I once again booted up my GPS, waited a seemingly long time for it to sync with the satellites, and when the display turned digital, I was ready to run. Still chatting away, I never heard the pre-race announcements, (maybe there weren’t any?) but suddenly a gun went off and we were off, down the dirt road.

The first mile was straight downhill, a fast clip. I blasted off and headed down the hill with the rest of the thundering herd. I knew that the latter miles of the course were grueling, so I thought that the best strategy today would be to put as much “in the bank” as I could in the early part of the race for my eventual collapse in the latter half.

The course rolled up and down, mostly down. We splashed through the first shallow wash, tiptoeing over boulders and shallow water. So far so good. Through the next few miles, there were two wash crossings – neither of which did more than muddy the bottom and sides of my feet.

The uncertain part of the course over, it was time to settle in.

Elevation map - as usual, it doesn't really do justice.....

The sun was rising now, to our backs and all of the runners cast long shadows ahead on the desert terrain. There was a lot of chattering going on, splits, pace, hydration, gels – typical running stuff.

At the six mile aid station, having warmed up enough to get sweaty, I decided to chuck my long sleeve shirt and gloves. I offered it to a volunteer. “Put it anywhere, we’ll bring it back for you!” she said. Cool! I thought, It would be good to have a chance to throw this shirt away again.

I caught up with Mark again, and we resumed our conversation, running our way up and down the undulating hills, heading back to the pavement and civilization.

We exited the dirt road into a subdivision. The pavement seemed much harder in comparison to the dirt road’s we had been on for the first hour or so.

By the way – since the Lost Dutchman is a really small race, they have yet to do Chip Timing. Everything is “by the bib” and you go by clock time, or gun time at the start. The Mile markers are understated, but easy to see (especially if you have a GPS and know they are coming) There are, however, no clocks on the course so it is good to bring your own watch so you know where you are at time-wise

In case that matters to you, that is….

We headed out on to Route 60 for a mile or so, still heading west with the sun at our backs. The temperature was moderate, 50’s warming to 60’s and for the whole race was absolutely perfect. To our right, the Superstitions were a great view the entire way, shrouded in shadows from the rising sun – and also hazy with the humidity in the air. Any time you looked up in this race, there were great views of the desert mountains.

We clocked mile seven at a little over an hour, pacing about an 8:40 pace.

The course left route 60 and turned inland towards the mountains again. An enthusiastic cadre of Senior Citizens manned an aid station in the parking lot of a Walgreens at around Mile nine. I took a gel, and some banana and Gatorade and continued on.

The course described a big loop for about seven miles, passing through some cool subdivisions as well as past the Gold Coast Resort. We also passed through Apache Land, and Quail Creek on our loop, apparently, though I couldn’t tell the difference – some of it was all roads and elevation to me. Aid stations were every two miles and each group of volunteers went out of their way to cheer all of us on.

I was actually feeling pretty good and paced ahead of Mark at some point as the mid-course hills started to rise up and up and up.

Passed through the Half Marathon point at a 1:58 on the watch hung a left and eased down some long hills.

Well, as usual since my last Marathon, training has not been on the front burner. I got really busy at the end of January, returning to Wisconsin for 11 days to do some consulting work, and do my penance for having a great winter escape strategy. Not being used to the FREAKING COLD AND SNOWY Midwest weather, I didn’t do a whole lot of running while I was there. And, since my YMCA membership is on Snowbird status, I only managed to cadge two guest passes from my fellow members, so spin and indoor running wasn’t much of an option while I was there either. After my trip to Wisconsin, I immediately embarked – the next day – from Tucson to Los Angeles to help my friend Jack Allis in his booth at the Conscious Life Expo. We worked 12 hour days, on our feet for much of the time, and while I did squeeze a short run in while there, most of my energy went towards the expo work.

Returning to Tucson, just six days before Apache Junction, I tried to do some cramming, like you would for an exam – ran four miles Monday, seven miles Tuesday, ran four miles and WALKED four miles Wednesday, and hiked on Thursday. All it did was give me achy legs for Friday and Saturday. Thus, I thought for sure my goose was cooked what with the brutal nature of the latter hills in this race. And, I had concluded that I would probably break my sub-four hour streak on this one. Remember – I had been there before!

Issues did arise, but not because of training. Long about mile 16, I had to, for the first time in many races, make an emergency Porto let stop (sorry all!) which cost me two minutes, and 11 seconds according to my GPS. Exiting the pit stop, I had lost a lot of my pacing, and struggled to regain my stride for the next several miles. Obviously, the Pot Stickers Revenge!

Mark had caught up and passed me, and I could see him off in the distance. I spent the next three miles or so trying to catch up. He was doing some Jeff Galloway work, running and taking short walking breaks. Countless times I would be ready to catch him, and he would end his walking break and be off again, drawing inexorably away.

The course had looped back onto route 60 for a few miles and then back inland. Between Miles 18 and 20 came one of the most memorable parts of the courses. By now, we had caught up with the half marathon course and I started seeing Mile markers for miles 5, 6, 7…and we headed up a long, seemingly never ending subdivision hill. Across the street on the other side, other runners were descending – this was a “keyhole loop” like the Biosphere loop in the Tucson race, complete with a never-ending hill.

There seemed to be several aid stations along the way, but it was really only one, covering both sides of the road. It was a young cadre of volunteers and they all chorused “Turnaround’s just ahead!”

Well no, it really wasn’t

The turnaround for the HALF Marathon came pretty quickly. The full marathoners had to run another half mile partially down hill to our turnaround. Did so and headed back uphill to the crest and aid station again. I caught up to and smacked Mark on the arm, startling him out of an I-pod reverie (I think) “I thought you were miles in front of me!” he exclaimed. “I was, but had to make a pit stop” I explained as we huffed our way back up the hill.

Cresting the hill, we began a long fast downhill stride sweeping past the 20 mile marker. By now I’m hurting and would like to be done, but I knew there was still some fun to be had. GPS clocked me at about a 2:58:59, so I needed some serious pacing to bring it home under 4:00.

Swept down the hill, hung a right – and started heading uphill. Off in the distance, the course rolled, inexorably upwards into the distance.

“Undulating” I said to Mark. “The word is Undulating”

“Undulating” he agreed.

There was nothing to do but slog it out. So we did, running, walking pushing, and watching the mile markers come. Soon, I saw matching mile markers as we caught up to the 10K course as well. Once again, we went off road, onto a dirt covered road and down a huge hill. I used the downhill’s to hammer as fast as I could and eased the uphill’s, walking when I started taching out heart-rate wise.

“There’s something for everyone in this race,” said Mark. “It’s like Trains, Planes and Automobiles – Trails, pavement, trails again”

And indeed, this was true.

Do you remember those old Popeye cartoons? Popeye would be getting his ass kicked by Brutus, and then he would somehow magically ingest his can of spinach, and not only recover fully, but turn into a great big ball of whup-ass on Brutus, knocking him into next year.

That kind of happened for me here. I had saved a few Ninxia Red Juice packs for the final push, and at mile 22, I downed one, and it gave me a good surge. And I needed it. Right before mile 23, there is a world-class aid station, staffed by the “Purple Ladies” an exuberant bunch of Senior citizens who are like a group of geriatric cheer leaders, complete with several cute Burma-shave-like signs. They exhort you down the hill and around the corner to……the Dutchman’s Revenge, a Sheer Uphill stretch of about a tenth of a mile.

I walked up it, of course. At the top there is a huge Arch, a sign that says “It’s all Downhill from here” and “You can see the Finish Line from here” and....a Photographer. Once I caught my breath I sprinted through the Arch holding my hands high. He snapped my picture. “Couldn’t tell I was walking two seconds ago, could ya?” I shouted as I streaked by.

The course rolled off into the distance for the last three miles. More undulating hills, but the net effect looked very uphill. I remember that last year I had probably walked more than ran, my hip flexors screaming at me the entire way as I lurched my way finally to the finish line. The temperature last year by this time was in the high ‘70’s or low ‘80’s so I remember feeling pretty overheated at the same time.

This year, however was different. It really looked like a sub-four was yet again possible if I could keep it together. And as usual, with this goal in sight, it suddenly became important to make it so. I pushed back the pain and pushed on towards the horizon.

I had left Mark after the “Dutchman’s Revenge” Feeling the surge from my Ninxia Red I managed to keep a steady pace over the next miles. I treated myself to yet another Juice pack at mile 24 and, feeling the surge, was ready to get this race done.

The course undulates (yes, that is the word of the day) for the last three miles up Lost Dutchman Boulevard to a peak at the intersection of Idaho Road. You then go right, swoop down a steep hill for about a quarter mile, round a hairpin curve to the right and the finish line is less than 2/10ths of a mile in front of you in the middle of Prospector Park. I pass stalled runners and half marathon walkers as I slog my way up the hill, turn the corner and stretch out into the downhill. The hairpin turn is challenging on the legs, but I head into the finish line as quickly as I can, even putting on a final burst in the last tenth of a mile. This race, by the way, was the first time I claimed my Arizona residence as I signed up, so I was “Peter Klein from Tucson!” as I crossed the finish line. Clock time 3:57:43, which almost exactly synced with my GPS. Hallelujah, the streak is intact!

At the finish line, they handed me a bottle of water and then the finishers medal. The Marathon Finishers medal is outstanding a third-inch thick hunk of metal, in the shape of the state of Arizona. An enameled front with at least eight colors – Blue, green, gold, black, yellow…”7th Annual Lost Dutchman Marathon run for the gold….

Check it out:

That’s where the real money went for the race. And, interestingly, as I was reading feedback on the website yesterday, one of the runners wrote in and admitted that she signed up for the race SOLELY because she was enamored with the picture of the finishers medal – and that she wasn’t disappointed!

Continued through the chutes into Prospectors Park. I waited for Mark, who was about three minutes behind me and as I did that fell into a conversation with this guy who had finished just in front of me. It turned out he was from West Bend Wisconsin, had came out here solely for the race and we had finished at almost the same time. Two Wisconsinites, within seconds of each other in a field, which turned out to be 320 finishers. What are the odds?

That is another thing about the Dutchman While there are many local Arizonans, there was a national flavor to the race as many of the 50-stater people make this a destination run to add Arizona to their roster. During and after the race I met people from California, Colorado, Chicago, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and Texas. Very cool to have such a cross section of the country on such a small race

Mark and I proceeded into the park where the finish festivities were already underway. Awards were being given for the 8K and 10K and later the half marathon. The finish line festivities are great. There was a food line (strictly for Runners only!), where again, a cadre of amazing and friendly volunteers dished up pretzels, fruit, yogurt, (with and without Granola) bagels (with and without cream cheese) and the famous Dutchman Breakfast Burritos with some spicy salsa. I wasn’t hungry, but I did partake of the famous burritos – and it was worth it!

Hung around and visited with other runners. Met Sue from Chicago, who was on State 37 I her 50 state journey. She said she didn’t run Chicago because she considered the Chicago Marathon to be a “National Holiday”, and she always hung out at mile 21 with Champagne, tambourine and a boom box to cheer the runners on. I Love the Windy City!

OH Yeah, forgetting my template – I did meet many of my Marathon Maniac brethren before, during and after the race, including Troy from LA, and Art from Minneapolis to mention a few. Troy had done something like 9 marathons SO FAR THIS YEAR and I shamefacedly told him that for me “This was only my second”. As always, it’s great to be a Maniac.

It wasn’t yet Noon, which again, is so weird – I had already put in an eight hour day between travel, race and finishing – and it wasn’t lunchtime yet. Mark and I hung out for a while longer and then picked up our gear. I asked one of the volunteers if anyone had brought in some stuff from the water stops and she told me to stand right there, while she hastened over to a pickup truck and gathered an armful of clothing that was in the back. My old white shirt wasn’t there, but it really didn’t matter. Still, was worth a shot!

Traded contact info with Mark who I am sure I’ll run again with (this was his 47th marathon in something like 9 years – he’s going for “50 by the time he’s 50” a goal which I totally understand.

Got on the bus back to the rodeo grounds, found the Toyota where I’d left it and did a quick change into civilian clothes. I was driving right back to Tucson (yes, without a shower, it was gross!) but I took the time to stretch out on the back of the car, trying in vain to shake some of the stiffness out of my legs.

While I was doing that, I noticed a middle-aged couple, each wearing finishers medals wandering around, peering around the parking lot, obviously looking for a lost vehicle. As this looked familiar, I called out to them “It was DARK when we got here!” They laughed, and we struck up a conversation. Ernie and Tammy from Texas; they were “Retired RV’ers” camping in the Superstitions with their travel trailer. They apparently used their retirement to drive around to do half marathons and other races wherever they could – Tammy had placed first in her age group and was sporting a huge plaque.

We had a great talk – and somehow the topic got to four letter words versus three letter words – We agreed that words like “Work” and “Snow” were definitely four letter words, on the order of obscene, while Three Letter words like “Run” “Sex” and “Eat” were far superior.

You can have some pretty funky post-race discussions as the endorphins jangle your nervous system……..still, I think we made a good point. It’s three letter words for me!

Stopped at the Circle K for a Coke (my post-race treat) and made the two hour and nine minute drive back to Tucson with my cramping legs. The weather, as usual has been stunning and I am grateful for my Winter Desert home

The next day I wrote a complimentary email to the Race Director and lo and behold the day after it was posted on the website! You can read more comments (mine is about a page down) at the following link:

http://www.lostdutchmanmarathon.org/2008feedback.htm

And, as I said in my note to the Race Director, I can’t say enough nice things about the Lost Dutchman Marathon (and, I’ve said about 12 pages worth here) It’s a great destination race, there is a race distance for everyone, and I will probably be doing this race every year I am here in the winter.


I also checked results the next day, confirming my finish time. Another cool addition is that next to my finish time were the words "Course PR!" indicating that this had been my best finish time to date. Nice touch.


And another part where life is stranger than fiction. My finish time differed from my Carlsbad finish time by exactly two minutes 11 seconds - the exact time, per my GPS of my unscheduled pit stop. AND, it was exactly 4 seconds different from my finish time in Tucson. Apparently I'm consistent, if otherwise "irregular"

And again - my GPS clocked the course EXACTLY the same distance as Carlsbad - 26.44 miles. The only consistent aspect between these races is....me! So if you do the math, I get credit for an additional 10 miles over 41 marathons, if the GPS is to be believed.

I’ve already recovered – walking three miles on my return Sunday with Cayelin and hiking three miles in Saguaro East on Monday. I ran three miles yesterday, and four today and while I still have a bit of stiffness, I’m ready to go again – Clean living catches up!

And, on a side note, I accomplished my goal – and then some – of 30 marathons before the 10-year anniversary of my Back Surgery on February 19. I actually ran 31, proving wrong my Neurosurgeon who gravely told me 10 years ago that I had “run my last Marathon” Another example of the Law of Attraction and Mind over Matter.

I don’t know what the next race is – there are some “lesser” races, including a local 5k, an 11 mile Trail Run in the Catalina’s and also the Valley of Gold Half Marathon, but I am really putting together my strategy to somehow gain Iridium Level in Marathon Maniacs this year – which would necessitate either a Four In Four streak (four marathons, four weeks) or Nine Marathons in Nine States for the year. Two down….and counting. Stay tuned

Thanks for reading everyone! And, special thanks to Mark from Phoenix for the excellent conversation, company and pacing. And to all my friends in the Midwest…..Stay Warm! The Snowbirds will be back in April or so!