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!
Monday, March 3, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
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.
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.
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.
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!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The Carlsbad Marathon Report
The Carlsbad Marathon ReportWell, the first marathon for 2008 is in the bag – I did the Carlsbad Marathon in Carlsbad California on Sunday, January 21.
I was trying to think of some Rock and Roll Metaphors to use to describe this race – There were many options, including:
- the “Ca-Ca-Ca Carlsbad”, based upon how cold it was at the start (and also, if I would have had a “crappy” finish time)
- “Suddenly, I Sea”, a play on the title of the K.T. Tunstall tune, making reference to the stretches of this race that ran along the Pacific ocean
- “Running up that Hill”, a nod to Kate Bush and a commentary on the several rolling uphill stretches on this course
“It’s (Carls) Bad, you know” – quoting R.L. Burnside, he of the Soprano’s soundtrack fame.
And, of course there’s the ever popular Mama’s and Papa’s “California Dreaming” (on such a winters day!) to rub it in for my Midwestern Brethren, back there in the cold and snow.
But, what it really came down to was…I really had a great time!
(I don’t know what part of the course this was – I sure didn’t run on this!)Cayelin and I left Tucson Saturday morning early, and made the drive across to San Diego. It’s about a six hour ride, I-10 up from Tucson to I-8 West, through southwest Arizona, and up over the mountains through Yuma, and down into the San Diego area. It was a really great ride, sunny and dry, and the desert and mountain views were stunning all the way.
Arriving in the San Diego area, I am reminded of why I don’t want to live in California. Back when I was a Sales Road Warrior, I used to spend a lot of time running up and down the West Coast, from San Diego to Seattle. Basically, California consists of massive freeway systems, with some scenery and suburbs thrown in. (Oh, and a beach or two) Indeed, the California lifestyle has a lot to do with driving – fast and furious. The terminology out there is ubiquitous, they refer to the Freeways as unique “entities”, as in “Take THE Five, or get on THE One-Sixty-Three” . It seems as if when they say “THE” there are parentheses around the term, as if you are preparing for a mystical experience. Soaring, arched bridges span huge amounts of the skyline, and there seem to be about 16 lanes at times all running parallel to one another, yet leading in different directions. After the pastoral scenery of the desert and mountain crossings, I immediately felt vulnerable in my small Toyota as we entered San Diego City Limits at 85 MPH, being swept along with the traffic flow that was oblivious to the posted 55 MPH speed limit..
Cayelin’s 22-year old daughter Jenna lives in Pacific Beach (a part of San Diego), and it was at her behest that we were there in the first place. She was running her second Half Marathon in Carlsbad, and of course I couldn’t just go half way, so I had signed up for the full Marathon. I’ve mentioned Jenna in previous blogs; she and I have done several training runs in her last few trips to Tucson, and keeping up with her while we circle Reid Park causes me to have to keep the metaphorical personal accelerator firmly against the floor. She pushes me, in other words, making me feel every minute of the 25-year difference in our ages.
So, we get to Pacific Beach, admire Jenna’s amazing close-to-the beach digs, and, after a side trip to downtown San Diego to pick up friend Paul’s car, we head up to Carlsbad to the Marathon Expo.
Carlsbad was an easy 25 minute ride up THE Five (Interstate 5 for the rest of you non-Californians) and we arrived there in good time. Thankfully, we were going north instead of south, we got to admire the 30 miles of backed up traffic heading into San Diego from points north. The San Diego Chargers were in the playoffs on Sunday, of course and it seemed like most of California was headed down to watch the game in the home town.
Those that weren’t running the marathon, anyway…
The expo was held, in all places, in the parking lot of a huge shopping mall. After circling the entire mile wide mall, we spotted some tents way down in a corner and decided that must be where it was.
The expo was really well done. Chip pickup was a breeze, packet pickup the same, and they also passed out the shirts as well. The shirt is a navy long-sleeve technical shirt (yeah, I need another one) with NO advertising on it, but on the back it said “Carlsbad Marathon 2008 Finisher” This was the only drawback to me. Once again, having not finished the race, I was slightly nonplussed to see this. Seems like bad karma to claim “Finisher” before you’ve gone the distance. More on this later
There were several tents linked together and there was everything from the usual apparel and shoe vendors, to some amazing energy bar stands, to a Juice stand, offering tremendous and generous samples, …….and also the San Diego Police Department. As you may imagine, the other booths were fairly well mobbed, but the Police were just standing there, looking menacing, and everyone seemed to avert their eyes as they went past. They had a huge sign – “San Diego Police are now Hiring” but no one seemed interested. I did think to myself, that there were probably no better places to recruit potential Law Enforcement people than a marathon expo. Where else would you find people who could probably run down criminals if necessary and would be healthy enough in a non-donut shop way to actually be an asset to the force?
We managed to not get arrested or recruited, noshed our way around, bought a few things and then headed over to Souplantation across the mall to do some pre-race carbo-loading. Souplantation is one of those all you can eat soup, salad, bread and desert places and proved to be an excellent choice for the night before meal.
Noticeable while we were eating was a table behind us filled with what looked to be several Kenyan runners, resplendent in logo’d sweats and eating some very healthy looking food. Indeed, the next day in the race, I saw at least two of these guys way out in the front of the crowd leading the pack, so…..I can say I “loaded with the leaders” in Carlsbad.
An early night, and then it was back to the Mall in the morning, as the starting line was right outside the Expo tents from the day before.
Before the Race
Pre-dawn in Carlsbad was freezing – a damp 30 degrees or so, and though we got there at 6:20, with the race starting at 7:30, the parking lot was filling fast. They said that over eight thousand people were in the race that day, and of course all of them were there trying to park close to the starting line.
We all trekked over to the line of porto potties, and there were as usual, tremendous lines, but mostly because an entire block-long wall of the provided pooping centers were LOCKED tightly. Almost everyone, myself included had to go over and check, just to make sure that the other 8,000 people had somehow just not seen this entire lineup of non-attended comfort stations. Perhaps someone had forgotten the keys? I still don’t know the answer, but we joined a long line and in due time, found relief.
By now it was past 7:00 am, and we met daughter Jenna and friend Paul. A few snapshots later, Jenna and I headed to the start line as the half and full marathon were starting together.
Pre-dawn in Carlsbad was freezing – a damp 30 degrees or so, and though we got there at 6:20, with the race starting at 7:30, the parking lot was filling fast. They said that over eight thousand people were in the race that day, and of course all of them were there trying to park close to the starting line.
We all trekked over to the line of porto potties, and there were as usual, tremendous lines, but mostly because an entire block-long wall of the provided pooping centers were LOCKED tightly. Almost everyone, myself included had to go over and check, just to make sure that the other 8,000 people had somehow just not seen this entire lineup of non-attended comfort stations. Perhaps someone had forgotten the keys? I still don’t know the answer, but we joined a long line and in due time, found relief.
By now it was past 7:00 am, and we met daughter Jenna and friend Paul. A few snapshots later, Jenna and I headed to the start line as the half and full marathon were starting together.
Pre-Race – Jenna and MeThere was a the usual pre-race hoopla, and some “pump up the crowd” commentary about the San Diego Charger game later that day. The announcer, in fine voice told us all that we had representatives from all 50 states and umpteen countries. Blah Blah Blah. I’m in my shorts and a throwaway longsleeve shirt, and I’m freezing along with the rest of the crowd. Promptly at 7:32 or so, we are off. I didn’t hear a gun, but suddenly the crowd is moving around me.
This race, by the way, was my maiden voyage with new technology. At the holidays this year, I succumbed to a long-standing resistance to adding more technology to my life and bought myself a Garmin Forerunner 205 GPS unit. One of the attractive aspects to it was not only the instant distance and time readout, but that the technology had advanced enough that it didn’t look like you were wearing a submarine sandwich (or Voodoo Donut Maple Log) on your wrist – merely a pretty large digital watch.
Anyway, I powered up my new toy a few minutes before the start, waited impatiently for it to handshake with the satellites and, as I crossed the timing mat under the banner, I hit the start button. We were off!
Since I am a seasoned marathon runner, and had been bit severely by not paying attention to things like this, I had studied the elevation map (see below) for the Carlsbad route very closely – and more than once. I also went and read the race commentary on Marathon Guide as well. In all cases, it was clear that this was quite the rolling course, with some pretty severe uphill stretches interspersed all through the course. Thus, I was psyched (and resigned) that it might be a bit of a slog to get across the finish line.
The course headed out and down an urban street, with a canyon wall stretching up and to the right. It was a huge crowd of runners, most of whom it seemed were running the Half Marathon. There were several pace groups as well, but they were haphazardly scattered throughout the throng – I think I saw a 2:50 group right alongside the 4:00 group. Since staying ahead of the 4:00 group is always my objective, I tried to stay up with them but due to the slower runners and narrow streets, they were soon way in front of me.
After the first half mile, the course took off up a long, long, meandering hill. “Crap!” I’m thinking. Having been warned about this, I was already feeling the oncoming pain.
We rolled up and over THE Five Freeway, and flattened out. The first mile passed and then we went downhill, around a hairpin turn, out about 100 yards and another hairpin back up the same hill. The two mile marker was there.
I checked my GPS and it read “2.07”. Hmmmmmm.
Continued on for a few miles, past the second and third water stop. At each mile marker, the GPS Readout said 3:07, 4:07…then 5:08. Again, Hmmmmmm.
Around mile four or so, we are in view of the Pacific Ocean. I am totally warmed up by now and donated my shirt at the mile four water station, and a few miles later, my gloves.
As we get closer to the Pacific, I’m wishing I had them back. The breeze is off the ocean, and very cool, and we are heading directly into the low rising winter sun as well, causing a lot of glare as we make our way along the coast.
Around mile five or so, the course split. Half Marathoners to the right, Full Marathoners to the left. The full marathoners were far fewer than the halvsies, so there was soon plenty of room to run. We went up and over a road bridge and turned inland for a long way.
I was hoping for a lot of Oceanside views, but I don’t think that even half of the race was in sight of the ocean. We stretched inland from mile six or so, through and along an industrial area, some mixed residential/industrial/retail areas and along the sides of some seaward hills. The course meandered up and down, and then around a huge corner and up a San-Francisco like hill. I was close to mile 8, running up this hill when I ran into the following, in this order:
- a group of “Hecklers” who chorused “It’s another Marathon Maniac” “And It’s Not Monday Yet” “How many is this today?”…and so on
Followed by:
- The Christian Brigade – a group of what looked like Nuns and Priests in Civilian clothing. They offered me a “Runners Prayer” a necklace of string, with a 3 X 5 Card, with a crucifix and some printing attached. They offered to put it on around my neck
“No thanks!” I said breathlessly. (not only did I not need the message, I also instantly imagined what toting that bouncing piece of cardboard and string around my neck for another 18 miles would do to my finishing time. Talk about chafing! And also, I didn’t want to risk getting struck down by lightening or anything for discarding or losing it along the way”)
“Gods Blessing on you!” said one of the Nuns as I hurtled past.
And then
- THE BLUES BROTHERS! Jake and Elwood, in full Blues Brothers regalia, lip syncing to “Cheaper to Keep Her”, which I recognized from the movie “Blues Brothers 2000”. I high-fived Jake, and then passed on to:
- a fully stocked Aid station, complete with Oranges, Bananas and other libations. I grabbed some orange slices and drinks and then, picked orange shards out of my teeth for the next three miles.
It soon became evident why there was so much “support” in this half mile stretch. The course hung a right and headed even further straight uphill. The road arched off into the distance…….going up, up and up. The promised Mid-course Mountain....
I slogged uphill past the eight mile mark. On the other side of the street, I see the 10 mile marker and runners returning, so I know this is a long loop. We go up and finally reach the top, and then shoot straight down a sheer incline for another third of a mile or so. There is an immediate turnaround, complete with Chip mat, and then the 9 mile marker. Then, it’s back up hill to the top of the LONG hill, up up up and over, and then a careening downhill stretch for about a mile and a half.
Just close to the top of the hill, I come across another runner wearing the blue Carlsbad Finishers shirt, and also a “Runners Prayer” card bouncing on his back. Chuck, from Omaha Nebraska, I later learned. We had a great three or four mile conversation and sprint together, hurtling down the long hill and out onto the rest of the course. We got to trade Marathon stories and I gotta say, I’m grateful to Chuck for a great mid-race pacing effort. We hit the 12 mile mark at 1:45, and the halfway point at a typical-for-me 1:53-and-change, though my GPS said it was about 13.3 miles by now. Hmmmmmmm.
Chuck wished me luck after the half-way point, and soon was off in the distance. We had returned from the industrial loop, and hung another right into…the “Lupus Loop” – a four-mile sojourn through another mixed residential/industrial/retail area. Every 10 feet or so, there were cardboard signs, extolling a burma-shave-like litany of the Dangers of Lupus.
Whatever Lupus is…..
Rounded the end of the “Lupus Loop” at almost mile 15, crossed another chip timing mat and headed back out. Crossed the same road bridge from before, and then a long sweeping curve that emptied out onto the place where the Half Marathoners and Full Marathoners had separated in the first place. Déjà vu, all over again. Beneath me on the roadway, I see a long march of walkers, joggers and plodders heading for home.
The Carlsbad Marathon had some strict criteria for Finishers. They had two early start waves, a 5:30 start for anyone who needed 6 ½ hours to finish either the half or the full Marathon. A 6:30 start was also available, and then there was my wave – the 7:30 wave, which meant that you had to complete the course in 10 minute miles or so to be across the finish line by the 12:00 pm cutoff. Dire warnings were posted on both the website and in the race instructions about strict enforcement of the cutoff and the course being closed.
I wasn’t worried – too much anyway.
The only problem with this set up is that by now, I’ve caught up with many of these early birds. Scores of walkers, some three and four abreast are clogging up the course and doing their death march to the finish. I weave in and out of them for basically the rest of the race.
We are completing a stretch along the beach and we are obviously on the Half Marathon course now. I come across the 18 mile marker, and then the Six Mile marker for the half. The course rolls along the ocean front, up and down, some pretty extreme grades to yet another turnaround, around mile 19 or so.
The Aid stations were numerous and frequent both early on and late in the race. About every mile or mile and a quarter there was water, Sport Drink, and also several Gel Stops. The Gel was “Accel Gel” a HUGE pouch of semi-liquid goo, which packed an energy punch that quickened my pace each time I imbibed. Chocolate seemed to be the only flavor available, but it was darn good stuff
One other side note – there was a ton of entertainment. In addition to the Blues Brothers mentioned, there were several other bands, from single guitar players to Bluegrass, to Drum Lines – something for everyone. One of my favorites was around mile 12 – a cowboy band, complete in Stetsons, pegged jeans and boots, singing a langorous version of “Ghost Riders in the Sky” with improvised lyrics, including “As the runners ran on by him, he heard one call his name…….”
By now the sun is up and it’s getting warm – even through my short-sleeved technical shirt and Marathon Maniacs singlet I’m feeling pretty overdressed.
It was again, worth it to be sporting my yellow Marathon Maniacs shirt. The Maniacs were out in force that day (though mostly in front of me!) And also their support crew. I got several special “Go Maniac!” shouts from fellow brethren, and also water stop crew and spectators. One pretty young women came out on the course to high-five me and tell me HER maniac number – Two hundred-something (I lost it in the crowd noise). As there were several loops in the course where you could see oncoming runners there was a lot of chance to offer and receive the Love from the other Maniacs. It’s a great community! www.marathonmaniacs.com - I'm number 486
By now I’m through Mile 20 and headed for home. Right about then, I come upon a familiar site – a blue shirt with a bobbing “Runners Prayer” card – “Brother Chuck!” I shout as I cruise by. “I thought I’d see you again! He shouts – “I’m hurting – Good luck!” “You’ll see me again,” I add as I pass him, but I wasn’t sure that would be true.
By the way – many people were wearing their “Finishers Shirts” for the race – the Half marathon version was white, and I saw, literally hundreds of them out there.
………….So, what has been happening for me in the seven weeks since my Painful Tucson Marathon experience? To tell you the truth in the weeks following Tucson, I wasn’t sure when or if I was really interested in tackling the 26.2 anytime soon. That. Marathon. Hurt. I had Frankenstein legs for days afterwards, and really felt the aches even when I started running a week or two later.
However, there have been some pretty cool things that have happened. First, as mentioned, were some excellent training runs over the Holidays with Jenna, who literally dragged me out most days to do our loop or two. Second, Cayelin and I have been doing some incredible hikes in Saguaro East, hiking up some pretty steep and rugged trails. Third, Cayelin found the Arizona School of Acupuncture where you can go and be a Guinea Pig for Acupuncture Students, receiving some amazing care and therapy for an incredibly reasonable rate. I had two sessions with Diane, an amazing healer who stuck my legs and feet full of needles, and also gave me some Cranial Sacral Therapy all of which has seemingly done me well. I’ve also worked a bit on my diet and attitude with the vision that maybe I didn’t need as much pain in the next marathon.
And also – my new GPS has shown me that I am regularly training here in Tucson at altitudes between 2,500 and 3,000 feet Going to sea level in Carlsbad actually gave me a pretty good “altitude edge” with additional aerobic capacity.
……..At mile 20, I’m at 2:57:59 on the clock (GPS says it’s 20.2, but I have to go with the posted marker) Once again, I’m in the enviable position of needing to average 10 minute miles or less to get home in under four hours.
The course is rolling hills from there, and I pick off the miles one at a time. It’s warm now, and I take a few walking breaks, slowing down some, but mostly I’m feeling pretty good, so hills or not, I clip along pretty well. It’s pretty clear that I’m under four hours, but by how much?
There is quite a steep hill up to mille 24 and 25, and then, at mile 25.5, we are on the inbound stretch of the first hill we encountered from the start, and it’s time to get it done. I fly down the hill and around the corner, weave in and out of the walkers, limpers, and strollers, and around the last corner into the mall. Right at the corner I have to dodge around a fat, waddling elderly lady with a DOG on a long leash for crying out loud and her entourage blocking half a lane of traffic, but I make it past and pour it on to the finish.
“And here comes number 560, Peter Klein, from Oconomowoc, Wisconsin” the announcer shouts as I blast across the finish line. I’m stunned that he actually pronounced my home town correctly. He goes on “My Wife’s from Hartland, right by there – you can be that we’ll be flying in a lot of Cheese for the Packers game today!!”
Nice finish line announcement
Finish clock reads 3:57 – GPS reads 3:55:27…..and 26.44 miles. What the heck?
Chip removal, and then I get my finishers medal – a HUGE square block of metal, about four inches square. The young sweetheart hangs it on me, and I almost tip over from the sheer weight of the thing.
Staggering through the finishers chute, I encounter the next nice touch. All runners get a pre-stuffed snack pack, which is doled out one at a time by a cadre of volunteers. Some great libations, including some Tigers Milk bars, Rice Krispy treats and other pretty tasty fare. A good way to do it - this way, everyone gets fed.
Coming out of the Chute – do I look happy?I rendezvous almost immediately with Cayelin, Jenna and Paul. Jenna popped off a stellar 1:53 finish for this, her second Half Marathon - and they’ve already been to breakfast and back, (yeah, I'm slow!) and they are fed, rested and ready to roll.
A few finish line photos, and then we join the long line of cars slowly making their way out of the mall to the next chapter.
After the Race – good to be doneI’m not sure what to say about the whole GPS thing. Either the course was mis-marked in some way, or I’m a weaver – big time. I do suspect the latter. It’s a small percentage of the total, but wow, a whole extra quarter mile…..if you do the math, my finish time might have been a full 2 and a quarter minutes less, considering an average nine minute mile. So, how far am I really running on all my training runs? How accurate are these races?
And the big question – does it really matter?
Any GPS experts out there have any input for me??
And wow – the Marathon was NOT the event that day. Finishing stats showed that I was number 230 out of only 916 Finishers. The Half marathon, however, had 6,344 total finishers, or almost Seven Times as many Half marathoners.
That’s a big difference!
Carlsbad was an excellent Marathon. Great support, Okay Course, stellar logistics, finishers medal and organization. I would definitely recommend it for a January California Destination Marathon. The only negative for me was a sad experience we had as we were leaving that really of hit me in a troubling way. As we left the Mall, because of the heavy traffic, we decided to take a side street back to THE Five to get back to our Hotel. We soon encountered, on the sidewalks, a steady stream of runners and walkers grimly jogging, walking, waddling, and limping back to the Mall. This was not a road that had been on the original course, either. I checked my watch and it was 12:05 pm. Apparently the course had closed right on schedule as promised, routing the stragglers back by the most direct route. I saw many of the people I had passed at some time during the race who had obviously failed to make it home in the allotted time. Many, by the way, were wearing their “Finishers” shirts.. I have to say that my heart really went out to these people – to be so close, and not be able to complete the course. That’s gotta be tough
So, if anyone is counting, the marathon just turned 40 for me – 20 years, 40 Marathons – and counting. A milestone of sorts, but in no way the end. What began on a cold October day in Chicago in 1988 is still going in 2008 - 40 marathons and 1,048 timed miles later far away on the West Coast on a sunny California day. Thanks to my old boss Sam for getting me going two decades ago.
I’m writing this two days and an acupuncture appointment after crossing the Finish line (thank you Diane!) and I gotta tell you – I feel GREAT! And ready to do the next 40 or so.
Hope you enjoy the pictures – Thanks Again Jenna! Thanks for the mid-race sprint, Chuck-from-Omaha. And thanks to Cayelin and Paul for hanging out for the event
Up the road!
Bib: 560
Name: Peter Klein
Gender: M
Age: 47
Hometown: Oconomowoc WI
Place Overall: 230 out of 916
Men: 182 out of 550
M 45-49: 22 out of 70
AgeGrade: 58.01% Place: 252
FINISH: 3:55:27 pace: 8:59
15k: 1:24:03 pace: 9:01
22K: 2:01:23 pace: 8:52
20 Mile: 2:55:59 pace: 8:48
Chip Time: 3:55:27
Gun Time: 3:57:32
Bib: 9635
Name: Jenna Van Cleve
Gender: F
Age: 22
Hometown: San Diego CA
Place Overall: 1449 out of 6334
Women: 458 out of 3702
F 18-24: 38 out of 259
AgeGrade: 58.62% Place: 1315
FINISH: 1:53:09 pace: 8:38
6.6 Mile: 59:59 pace: 9:06
Chip Time: 1:53:09
Gun Time: 1:55:14
Monday, January 14, 2008
Another Vintage Blog from 2005 - The Tecumsah Trail Marathon Report
Note – these two blogs –“The Tecumsah Trail Marathon Report” and “ 78.6 Miles – a Tale of Three Cities, were actually some of my early writings about “going the distance” from 2005. I had originally just sent them out as a long email, but to keep everything together, I thought I would repost them here for anyone who can’t get enough. Happy 2008 Everyone!
The Tecumsah Trail Marathon
Report - Nashville, IN – December, 2005
(quotes that came to mind during the race.......)
.....The Woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
and....
"Is there No end to this accursed Forest?"
Thorin Oakenshield, to the rest of the dwarves in Mirkwood Forest - J.R.R Tolkiens - "The Hobbit"
Well, my friends, this race rounded out my year for sure. This weekend, I did the Tecumsah Trail Marathon outside of Nashville, Indiana (East of Bloomington, where Indiana University is)
Three words. "Oh. My. Gawd......."
I should have been warned by the FAQ section on the event's website which read:
How difficult is it really?
Answer - Hmm... Pretty difficult. Try it and find out!
Anyway, sign up I did. Here's the story.......
Packet pickup was Friday night as it was a Saturday race. Forgetting that Southern Indiana is actually on Eastern Time (my first clue was when the clock on my cellphone suddenly jumped a whole hour) I managed to leave Wisconsin too late on the six-plus hour drive down there to reach the Headquarters for the cutoff time for packet pickup of 8:00 pm. No, matter, I used to live in Chicago. I showed up anyway - about 8:45 pm local time. WAY after dark.
You had to drive through miles of country roads, then onto a rough pot-holed gravel road to get to the State Campground lodge where the packet pickup was.
I pulled up to the parking area next to another car, cut off my lights and......it was pitch black. So dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
I peered through the darkness, and saw a flashlight bobbing at the end of a path. I also smelled woodsmoke, so I stumbled down, what daylight the next day revealed to be the actual Finish line Chute towards the light. Tiptoeing around the corner I called "hellooooo - anyone here for the race?"
"Yeah, c'mon in" a voice replied.
Inside a converted log pavillion (with plastic sheeting over all the openings and Two Fireplaces both blazing merrily), was a guy wearing a Miners Headlamp, which was the only light in the place, and the "flashlight" I had spotted from the parking area. He cheerfully had me sign a waiver form, fished in a stack for my racing bib, pulled out an-even-in-the-dark Funky looking sweatshirt, and also gave me some runners "swag" including Tylenol, deoderant and some energy bars. To all of this, he added a cool plastic bag to put it all in. I noted also, ominously, that, printed upside down on the Bib (so you could read it as you looked down at your shirt front) were the words "I think I can......"
We chatted about the race, and upon further investigation, it turned out that he was not actually part of the race staff - he was a veteran trail runner from Rockford, Illinois who just hung around after the rest of the volunteers had apparentely left for the night, and decided to help latecomers.....like myself. He had never actually RUN this race, either.........
Great security. Actually, that was pretty weird.....But, I got my stuff!
Later, after finally finding the motel about nine miles east of there, which was supposed to be a Best Western, but had "changed it's name" I got a pretty good nights sleep, and then, fortified with the free continental breakfast, I headed back to the State Forest.
It was a 10:00 am start time, kinda late, but it was light out anyway. As this was a Point-to-Point race, you had to board one of several busses at the Finish line by 8:45 am, which I did, which all then left in convoy and drove what seemed to be all the way back to Chicago - about a 50 minute ride, to wherever the start line was. I still have no idea where it was, it seemed we circled and drove forever. Either way, it was nice and warm on the bus, and the pre-race chatter of all the runners was fun, lotta energy and people fretting over weather, water, chafing,....all of the runner type issues.
At some point in the bus ride, it actually occurred to me that...oh yeah. I actually got 26.2 miles to run today. And, it is supposed to be "rough"
And, oh yeah, it was...
The race was delayed about 15 minutes as the race director was closely monitoring the Porto-lets, and actually waited till everyone was "done".
Ready, Set, GO! And off we went.
The first 100 yards was a piece of cake. A nice winding paved road, the crowd starting to stretch out. Then, we hung a sharp left, went down a hill, and we were "off Road"
I won't give you blow by blow of the race (well, maybe I’ll give you some!) but let me tell you. If anyone has ever run Cross Country, they might have a bit of an inkling about what this was like. For those of you who have ever run the Trailbreaker Marathon in Waukesha, Wisconsin - it's kinda like that. For my team members from the Cross Country Challenge in Gilberts, IL - YEAH, it's a lot like that......except after you do the Cross Country Challenge distance, in this race, ya got 21.23 miles left to go - of the same stuff.
I gave up trying to qualify for Boston after the first mile..
The course is mostly "single Track" which means you can only run single-file safely. Mud all the way. Leaf-covered mud. Huge HUGE switchback uphill stretches. Sheer downhill stretches. Slanted, angled paths that roll along ridge lines, so you run with one foot higher than the other. At least a dozen River crossings. Muck. Fallen leaves covering tree roots to trip over. Boulders protruding. Branches over the path to duck under. At least 200 fallen trees (and I am really, really not exaggerating that number) - to hurdle.
Cold weather - about 36 degrees, and cloudy, with a headwind at times that was pretty chilly. The wet feet after the first few river crossings didn't help either.
No mile markers. Only about six water stops, with vague indications from the volunteers there where you were at mile-wise in the race. No clocks.
Again, about all of the above - NO, I'm not kidding. Really, I'm not.....
And all of that being said - wow did I have fun.......
I have to say that Southern Indiana is beautiful. You may think of Indiana as Flat, but it is anything but. The mountains (so to speak) the ravines, the trail itself, the trees, the rock outcroppings - all stunningly beautiful. I wish I had brought a camera - one scene that comes to mind, which I will never do justice describing- is this mile-long, quintuple switchback descent down this huge ridge. Again, the path is single track, and you can see all of the runners stretched out from top to bottom, wearing running garb all of the colors of the rainbow, running down the switchbacks in a continuous curving line - like Ants! An unbelievable scene.
There were huge stands of 100 foot pine trees you suddenly ran into and out of, with a carpet of needles underfoot.
Sudden drop offs where you would find yourself in mid air.
Tree roots that appeared out of nowhere under your feet - you felt them hit your foot, at the same time you impacted the ground in front of you with your hands or elbows.
And so on.....
One other thing - it was actually a "blue Ribbon" course. To follow the trail, you had to watch for six inch segments of bright "blue ribbon" tied to branches about every ten yards or so. If you missed one, you may have still been out there when night fell. The best strategy was to keep runners in front of you and hope they were paying attention.
Of course at some point I was running alone, and had to follow the ribbons. It was really interesting and there were a few scary moments before I found the next one. This was really out in the middle of no where. And also, while you are looking for ribbons, you're not watching your footing, so there was ample opportunity to have more close encounters of the ground-type.
The race was incredibly Zen. It was so "technical" that time really was not a factor. You really had to stay present in the moment, and pay attention to each stretch of course, each step, each movement - and it really flowed from there. Big blocks of time eased by as a result, and while sometimes it seemed like it took a half hour to go a mile, other times you clipped five miles off in no time at all The no mile marker and no clock part was part of that. It was hard to talk to people as they were either in front of, or in back of you, and if you turned around, you'd likely trip and tumble. Most of them didn't appreciate my smart-ass comments (see below)
Also, there were no spectators to cheer you on......too rugged out there and NO access.
I quickly learned, along with the other runners, to walk up the steep hills. There were SO many of them, that if you tried to tackle all of them at race pace, you would have been done long before the half way point. Even walking up the hills was hard enough, seriously, San Francisco has NOTHING to compare some of the major stretches of this trail run.
The water stops, though minimal were great. They served food and gatorade, and you would not believe how great Fig Newtons, and Bananas stuffed at the same time into your mouth and washed down with Gatorade tastes after running the trails for a few hours. That kind of stuff beats Gel for sure, it was like Jet Fuel. And most people stopped and munched and joked for a few minutes, which was fun.
There were HUGE opportunities for shouting Puns for me, among those being:
"time to LOG IN" (as we jumped over any one of the hundreds of fallen trees)
"Joining a SPLINTER Group" (as I tripped over and broke a branch)
"I'm getting BOULDER (bolder!) - as we ran over the rocks)
"you're FIRED" I told one of the Water stop volunteers, as he was poking a campfire to life along the trail
Okay, that's enough.....Most of those were funny just to me. Ya had to be there!
Luckily, I had a kick that wouldn't quit that hit me, as usual, at the "20 mile" (yeah right!) water stop, and I blasted to the finish, actually charging most of the last hills. The kick carried me in strongly - even though The finish line, however Just Didn't Want To Show Up - I'm convinced that like the Lakeshore Marathon in May, this was about a 28.5 mile 26.2 Mile marathon.
Okay, though, the stat. Since there were no mile markers and I really couldn’t gauge much from my watch, the only thing that mattered was the finish time ....which was 4:53, which goes on record as My Slowest Marathon Ever. However, as it is my first Trail Marathon, and (read above) a little "extreme" I"LL TAKE IT!!!! I was told to expect about an hour more than your normal marathon time, so I think I was a little ahead of the game.
There was Really good Hot Vegetable Soup, sandwiches, Hot Chocolate and big cookies at the finish line - it was a really great finish line nosh.
The Shirt.....is a Bright Red Sweatshirt, with, of all things, Palm Trees, like a Jimmy Buffet Album, with what looks like a Black Panther sprinting among them. A quote from Dr Seuss (seriously!) is on the back - "Today is your Day! Your mountain is waiting, so get on your way!"
I think I'll keep this one (?)
Legs are sore in places I've never felt before, this one really hurt once I stopped moving. The six hour drive home really didn't help, either.
So, Final count for 2006 - Six Marathons - five of them between September 25 and December 3rd. 33 Marathons for the lifetime total. 12 or so states and one Canadian Province. And counting.
One big toe black toenail that won't go away, and a recurring blister right next to it. Lots of memories. And, too many words in this story, you're all sleeping now,,,,
See y'all up the road!
The Tecumsah Trail Marathon
Report - Nashville, IN – December, 2005
(quotes that came to mind during the race.......)
.....The Woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
and....
"Is there No end to this accursed Forest?"
Thorin Oakenshield, to the rest of the dwarves in Mirkwood Forest - J.R.R Tolkiens - "The Hobbit"
Well, my friends, this race rounded out my year for sure. This weekend, I did the Tecumsah Trail Marathon outside of Nashville, Indiana (East of Bloomington, where Indiana University is)
Three words. "Oh. My. Gawd......."
I should have been warned by the FAQ section on the event's website which read:
How difficult is it really?
Answer - Hmm... Pretty difficult. Try it and find out!
Anyway, sign up I did. Here's the story.......
Packet pickup was Friday night as it was a Saturday race. Forgetting that Southern Indiana is actually on Eastern Time (my first clue was when the clock on my cellphone suddenly jumped a whole hour) I managed to leave Wisconsin too late on the six-plus hour drive down there to reach the Headquarters for the cutoff time for packet pickup of 8:00 pm. No, matter, I used to live in Chicago. I showed up anyway - about 8:45 pm local time. WAY after dark.
You had to drive through miles of country roads, then onto a rough pot-holed gravel road to get to the State Campground lodge where the packet pickup was.
I pulled up to the parking area next to another car, cut off my lights and......it was pitch black. So dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
I peered through the darkness, and saw a flashlight bobbing at the end of a path. I also smelled woodsmoke, so I stumbled down, what daylight the next day revealed to be the actual Finish line Chute towards the light. Tiptoeing around the corner I called "hellooooo - anyone here for the race?"
"Yeah, c'mon in" a voice replied.
Inside a converted log pavillion (with plastic sheeting over all the openings and Two Fireplaces both blazing merrily), was a guy wearing a Miners Headlamp, which was the only light in the place, and the "flashlight" I had spotted from the parking area. He cheerfully had me sign a waiver form, fished in a stack for my racing bib, pulled out an-even-in-the-dark Funky looking sweatshirt, and also gave me some runners "swag" including Tylenol, deoderant and some energy bars. To all of this, he added a cool plastic bag to put it all in. I noted also, ominously, that, printed upside down on the Bib (so you could read it as you looked down at your shirt front) were the words "I think I can......"
We chatted about the race, and upon further investigation, it turned out that he was not actually part of the race staff - he was a veteran trail runner from Rockford, Illinois who just hung around after the rest of the volunteers had apparentely left for the night, and decided to help latecomers.....like myself. He had never actually RUN this race, either.........
Great security. Actually, that was pretty weird.....But, I got my stuff!
Later, after finally finding the motel about nine miles east of there, which was supposed to be a Best Western, but had "changed it's name" I got a pretty good nights sleep, and then, fortified with the free continental breakfast, I headed back to the State Forest.
It was a 10:00 am start time, kinda late, but it was light out anyway. As this was a Point-to-Point race, you had to board one of several busses at the Finish line by 8:45 am, which I did, which all then left in convoy and drove what seemed to be all the way back to Chicago - about a 50 minute ride, to wherever the start line was. I still have no idea where it was, it seemed we circled and drove forever. Either way, it was nice and warm on the bus, and the pre-race chatter of all the runners was fun, lotta energy and people fretting over weather, water, chafing,....all of the runner type issues.
At some point in the bus ride, it actually occurred to me that...oh yeah. I actually got 26.2 miles to run today. And, it is supposed to be "rough"
And, oh yeah, it was...
The race was delayed about 15 minutes as the race director was closely monitoring the Porto-lets, and actually waited till everyone was "done".
Ready, Set, GO! And off we went.
The first 100 yards was a piece of cake. A nice winding paved road, the crowd starting to stretch out. Then, we hung a sharp left, went down a hill, and we were "off Road"
I won't give you blow by blow of the race (well, maybe I’ll give you some!) but let me tell you. If anyone has ever run Cross Country, they might have a bit of an inkling about what this was like. For those of you who have ever run the Trailbreaker Marathon in Waukesha, Wisconsin - it's kinda like that. For my team members from the Cross Country Challenge in Gilberts, IL - YEAH, it's a lot like that......except after you do the Cross Country Challenge distance, in this race, ya got 21.23 miles left to go - of the same stuff.
I gave up trying to qualify for Boston after the first mile..
The course is mostly "single Track" which means you can only run single-file safely. Mud all the way. Leaf-covered mud. Huge HUGE switchback uphill stretches. Sheer downhill stretches. Slanted, angled paths that roll along ridge lines, so you run with one foot higher than the other. At least a dozen River crossings. Muck. Fallen leaves covering tree roots to trip over. Boulders protruding. Branches over the path to duck under. At least 200 fallen trees (and I am really, really not exaggerating that number) - to hurdle.
Cold weather - about 36 degrees, and cloudy, with a headwind at times that was pretty chilly. The wet feet after the first few river crossings didn't help either.
No mile markers. Only about six water stops, with vague indications from the volunteers there where you were at mile-wise in the race. No clocks.
Again, about all of the above - NO, I'm not kidding. Really, I'm not.....
And all of that being said - wow did I have fun.......
I have to say that Southern Indiana is beautiful. You may think of Indiana as Flat, but it is anything but. The mountains (so to speak) the ravines, the trail itself, the trees, the rock outcroppings - all stunningly beautiful. I wish I had brought a camera - one scene that comes to mind, which I will never do justice describing- is this mile-long, quintuple switchback descent down this huge ridge. Again, the path is single track, and you can see all of the runners stretched out from top to bottom, wearing running garb all of the colors of the rainbow, running down the switchbacks in a continuous curving line - like Ants! An unbelievable scene.
There were huge stands of 100 foot pine trees you suddenly ran into and out of, with a carpet of needles underfoot.
Sudden drop offs where you would find yourself in mid air.
Tree roots that appeared out of nowhere under your feet - you felt them hit your foot, at the same time you impacted the ground in front of you with your hands or elbows.
And so on.....
One other thing - it was actually a "blue Ribbon" course. To follow the trail, you had to watch for six inch segments of bright "blue ribbon" tied to branches about every ten yards or so. If you missed one, you may have still been out there when night fell. The best strategy was to keep runners in front of you and hope they were paying attention.
Of course at some point I was running alone, and had to follow the ribbons. It was really interesting and there were a few scary moments before I found the next one. This was really out in the middle of no where. And also, while you are looking for ribbons, you're not watching your footing, so there was ample opportunity to have more close encounters of the ground-type.
The race was incredibly Zen. It was so "technical" that time really was not a factor. You really had to stay present in the moment, and pay attention to each stretch of course, each step, each movement - and it really flowed from there. Big blocks of time eased by as a result, and while sometimes it seemed like it took a half hour to go a mile, other times you clipped five miles off in no time at all The no mile marker and no clock part was part of that. It was hard to talk to people as they were either in front of, or in back of you, and if you turned around, you'd likely trip and tumble. Most of them didn't appreciate my smart-ass comments (see below)
Also, there were no spectators to cheer you on......too rugged out there and NO access.
I quickly learned, along with the other runners, to walk up the steep hills. There were SO many of them, that if you tried to tackle all of them at race pace, you would have been done long before the half way point. Even walking up the hills was hard enough, seriously, San Francisco has NOTHING to compare some of the major stretches of this trail run.
The water stops, though minimal were great. They served food and gatorade, and you would not believe how great Fig Newtons, and Bananas stuffed at the same time into your mouth and washed down with Gatorade tastes after running the trails for a few hours. That kind of stuff beats Gel for sure, it was like Jet Fuel. And most people stopped and munched and joked for a few minutes, which was fun.
There were HUGE opportunities for shouting Puns for me, among those being:
"time to LOG IN" (as we jumped over any one of the hundreds of fallen trees)
"Joining a SPLINTER Group" (as I tripped over and broke a branch)
"I'm getting BOULDER (bolder!) - as we ran over the rocks)
"you're FIRED" I told one of the Water stop volunteers, as he was poking a campfire to life along the trail
Okay, that's enough.....Most of those were funny just to me. Ya had to be there!
Luckily, I had a kick that wouldn't quit that hit me, as usual, at the "20 mile" (yeah right!) water stop, and I blasted to the finish, actually charging most of the last hills. The kick carried me in strongly - even though The finish line, however Just Didn't Want To Show Up - I'm convinced that like the Lakeshore Marathon in May, this was about a 28.5 mile 26.2 Mile marathon.
Okay, though, the stat. Since there were no mile markers and I really couldn’t gauge much from my watch, the only thing that mattered was the finish time ....which was 4:53, which goes on record as My Slowest Marathon Ever. However, as it is my first Trail Marathon, and (read above) a little "extreme" I"LL TAKE IT!!!! I was told to expect about an hour more than your normal marathon time, so I think I was a little ahead of the game.
There was Really good Hot Vegetable Soup, sandwiches, Hot Chocolate and big cookies at the finish line - it was a really great finish line nosh.
The Shirt.....is a Bright Red Sweatshirt, with, of all things, Palm Trees, like a Jimmy Buffet Album, with what looks like a Black Panther sprinting among them. A quote from Dr Seuss (seriously!) is on the back - "Today is your Day! Your mountain is waiting, so get on your way!"
I think I'll keep this one (?)
Legs are sore in places I've never felt before, this one really hurt once I stopped moving. The six hour drive home really didn't help, either.
So, Final count for 2006 - Six Marathons - five of them between September 25 and December 3rd. 33 Marathons for the lifetime total. 12 or so states and one Canadian Province. And counting.
One big toe black toenail that won't go away, and a recurring blister right next to it. Lots of memories. And, too many words in this story, you're all sleeping now,,,,
See y'all up the road!
A Vintage Blog from 2005 - 78.6 Miles - a Tale of Three Cities
Note – this blogs – “ 78.6 Miles – a Tale of Three Cities, and the one following called “The Tecumsah Trail Marathon Report” were actually some of my early writings about “going the distance” from 2005. I had originally just sent them out as a long email, but to keep everything together, I thought I would repost them here for anyone who can’t get enough. Happy 2008 Everyone!
Hi Friends and Family –
I've had a great few weeks - the adventure continues....
Just got done with Three, yes Three Marathons in 14 days
Three Marathons, Three Sundays.
Toronto, Milwaukee, Chicago. Working my way South.
Three Finishers Medals.
Three T-shirts.
And yes, these were all 26.2 miles. And at some points, all of them seemed longer than that.
All I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other until I was done.......
Since I really had energized this months before, it was only a matter of showing up and doing my best in all three cases.
Interestingly, ALL of these cities sport a Lakefront and, in fact, were mostly run in close proximity thereto. They were unique, each one, but the distance was the same.
So, the first one - Toronto......
Flew up to Toronto with my friend Scott on Saturday, September 24th.. Midwest Airlines, the Best Care in the Air. Upon arrival, we saw a few sights, and went to a very lame pasta dinner, but the main thing was the race on Sunday.
The race was about 2,500 runners. Not a lot of US people, but many from other parts of the world, including several of the Kenyan crowd. A small expo, and a so-so pasta dinner, but it was great to be out of the Country as it were.
The main thing I noted about the race was that Canadians - runners and spectators - were really, really nice people. It was a cloudy, warm and Very Humid day. As this was, of course, a Non-US marathon, the course was marked in Kilometers - not miles. (Scott by the way dropped this bomb on me on the flight up, watching with an evil grin as I turned several shades whiter while trying to integrate the mathmatical complexities that this presented)
The nice thing I learned about Kilometers is that, unlike mile markers, they come at you pretty rapidly. Unfortunately (again unlike Mile Markers) there are Far More of them. 42 plus KM versus 26.2 Miles. I kept checking my watch and trying to calculate my pace...."uh point six-two miles to the Kilometer? Or is it 2.2 pounds to the Kilo" but I gave up quickly. As Homer Simpson says about the Metric System "OH! It's just So Stupid!!"
The course was mainly urban through and around Toronto, but with a nice lakefront stretch. A really nice thing was different flavored Gatorade at all the different Water Stops. All the colors of the rainbow.
It rained a little on the course, but, but I managed to turn it off well. Finish time in Toronto was 4:04. As during my efforts here, I felt the weight of the races to follow the whole time, I couldn't make up my mind to speed, or shuffle - and thus dithered until it was too late to break four hours. Came as close as I could though.
Toronto had the best Race Shirt - a Red Asic Technical with the race logo and no advertising.
The Monday after the race was pretty bad, a little stiff and sore, (and the flight home only a few hours after crossing the finish line didn't help) but I got to the YMCA as soon as I could and turned off a spin class or two to shake out the lactic acid. Thus I survived the next few days leading up to the next one.
Next stop - Milwaukee - back home in Wisconsin. October 2nd
Milwaukee was about 2,000 runners. A stunning fall day, with bright sunshine. A point-to-point course, starting in Grafton, a suburb 26 miles north of Milwaukee, and following the lake all the way down to the North Milwaukee Lakefront park. The course is rolling downhill, and you have everything from Farm Fields, to parks, to Lakefront Mansions, and lakefront bike paths. There was a very nice breeze the whole way, that was cooling, not one to fight. Milwaukee is really homey - they put your name on your race bib so people cheer for you by name - and all the spectators do!
I had actually volunteered to be a Race Co-Captain for the Packet Pickup this year and as such was on my feet non-stop for the two days before the race, shuffling boxes, dealing with nervous runners and helping manage several volunteers. No sleep Saturday night as we had to be in Grafton for Race Day Packet pickup at the crack of dawn.
That being said, I still had the funnest (and almost the fastest) race of the three - turned off a 4:06 (it would have been faster in KM - ha!) but felt really great the whole way. Had a lot of fun working the crowd of spectators and runners, most of which I had given their packet to the day before. And, had a great downhill kick at the end with a stunning lakefront finish. Milwaukee is definitely my home town now!
Oh, and Milwaukee had the second-best shirt - a GREY technical with the race logo. Not as cool as Toronto! HOWEVER, I also got a very cool Black Volunteer Sweatshirt....AND an REI "Race Staff" Polar fleece for my Captain's duties. I'm Sporting Milwaukee gear three days a week now.....
I did the same thing as after Toronto, off to the YMCA for some spin classes immediately the morning following the Marathon. Also threw in a few hot tub sessions and did some shorter runs of the 3-4 mile variety during the week. Was ready to line up again for….
Chicago.....my old hometown. October 9
I gotta say, for those who don't know it - Chicago is a Really Big Race.
Really REALLY Big.
The runner expo in Chicago occupies about a city block in McCormick Place, a huge convention hall. It is like a major concert event. A cacophony of noise, people, activity, big companies - the City of Big Shoulders. You walk for about a mile just to get your packet and runner bib.
Over 40,000 runners signed up for the race. It is estimated that over a Million people spectate.
A million people.......
I've done Chicago 12 times now. Each time I ask myself "Why do I always do Chicago?"
Answer - 'cause it's there.... Or someone talks me into it. Or something. And, each year I forget what a crowd it is.... Can someone remind me next year, please?
Anyway come race day, it was a perfect day, weatherwise. Cool with a breeze, about 60 degrees. After all the speechifying and noise, and starting line hoopla, it took me only 6 minutes to get past the starting line after the gun went off. Which, for Chicago is not bad at all. The course covers all the great neighborhoods - Lincoln Park, the Loop, Wacker Drive, Little Poland, Greek Town, Little Mexico, China town...ending in Grant park by Buckingham fountain. Non-stop crowd support, bands, cheerleaders, screaming people, sirens - again, a CACOPHONY of noise. Lots of water stops, with blocks of spilled Gatorade, which, by the way resulted in treacherous footing from empty cups, gel packs, water......
It is a pretty flat course, except for one pretty good hill, which, for comedic purposes I'm sure, they put in the last .3 miles of the course.
I had a LITTLE foot pain, but managed to ignore it with the help of my friend I.B. Prufen - finishing in 4:11, which I put down to the crowd, and all the lateral movement, dodging walkers, empty cups, tiptoeing through the water stops.....etc. Oh, and probably doing two other ones the weeks before may have had an effect..... I was really glad to see the finish line, and kept cutting deals with myself to keep moving.........
Interesting that the winner of the Chicago finished the course in 2:07 (and I think he get's $50,000 for that) . At 2:07 on the clock, I was at about mile 13.6, or a little over half way. I suppose that the nice thing about running fast, is you can get off our feet quicker, but I bet if HE had to run for four hours......Oh, never mind.....:-)
Unfortunately for my Hometown the Chicago Marathon shirt, in fact, SUCKED.
As usual, by the way.
Too bad that one of the biggest races in the country has the worst shirt.
Prior to Chicago, I had considered adding Indianapolis to the list this upcoming weekend, making it "four in four" but right now, I'm looking forward to a weekend WITHOUT a Marathon. But, give me a day or so to recover..............
So, that is how I've spent the first few weeks of the fall of 2005. I guess there are worse ways to spend Eternity. And, you should see all my cool finisher medals!
Oh, and anybody want an XL Chicago Marathon Long Sleeve T-shirt? never worn! would be a great thing to wrap a Cold Dog or Cat in........
.
Blessings to you all, and thanks for reading my ramblings....
Hi Friends and Family –
I've had a great few weeks - the adventure continues....
Just got done with Three, yes Three Marathons in 14 days
Three Marathons, Three Sundays.
Toronto, Milwaukee, Chicago. Working my way South.
Three Finishers Medals.
Three T-shirts.
And yes, these were all 26.2 miles. And at some points, all of them seemed longer than that.
All I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other until I was done.......
Since I really had energized this months before, it was only a matter of showing up and doing my best in all three cases.
Interestingly, ALL of these cities sport a Lakefront and, in fact, were mostly run in close proximity thereto. They were unique, each one, but the distance was the same.
So, the first one - Toronto......
Flew up to Toronto with my friend Scott on Saturday, September 24th.. Midwest Airlines, the Best Care in the Air. Upon arrival, we saw a few sights, and went to a very lame pasta dinner, but the main thing was the race on Sunday.
The race was about 2,500 runners. Not a lot of US people, but many from other parts of the world, including several of the Kenyan crowd. A small expo, and a so-so pasta dinner, but it was great to be out of the Country as it were.
The main thing I noted about the race was that Canadians - runners and spectators - were really, really nice people. It was a cloudy, warm and Very Humid day. As this was, of course, a Non-US marathon, the course was marked in Kilometers - not miles. (Scott by the way dropped this bomb on me on the flight up, watching with an evil grin as I turned several shades whiter while trying to integrate the mathmatical complexities that this presented)
The nice thing I learned about Kilometers is that, unlike mile markers, they come at you pretty rapidly. Unfortunately (again unlike Mile Markers) there are Far More of them. 42 plus KM versus 26.2 Miles. I kept checking my watch and trying to calculate my pace...."uh point six-two miles to the Kilometer? Or is it 2.2 pounds to the Kilo" but I gave up quickly. As Homer Simpson says about the Metric System "OH! It's just So Stupid!!"
The course was mainly urban through and around Toronto, but with a nice lakefront stretch. A really nice thing was different flavored Gatorade at all the different Water Stops. All the colors of the rainbow.
It rained a little on the course, but, but I managed to turn it off well. Finish time in Toronto was 4:04. As during my efforts here, I felt the weight of the races to follow the whole time, I couldn't make up my mind to speed, or shuffle - and thus dithered until it was too late to break four hours. Came as close as I could though.
Toronto had the best Race Shirt - a Red Asic Technical with the race logo and no advertising.
The Monday after the race was pretty bad, a little stiff and sore, (and the flight home only a few hours after crossing the finish line didn't help) but I got to the YMCA as soon as I could and turned off a spin class or two to shake out the lactic acid. Thus I survived the next few days leading up to the next one.
Next stop - Milwaukee - back home in Wisconsin. October 2nd
Milwaukee was about 2,000 runners. A stunning fall day, with bright sunshine. A point-to-point course, starting in Grafton, a suburb 26 miles north of Milwaukee, and following the lake all the way down to the North Milwaukee Lakefront park. The course is rolling downhill, and you have everything from Farm Fields, to parks, to Lakefront Mansions, and lakefront bike paths. There was a very nice breeze the whole way, that was cooling, not one to fight. Milwaukee is really homey - they put your name on your race bib so people cheer for you by name - and all the spectators do!
I had actually volunteered to be a Race Co-Captain for the Packet Pickup this year and as such was on my feet non-stop for the two days before the race, shuffling boxes, dealing with nervous runners and helping manage several volunteers. No sleep Saturday night as we had to be in Grafton for Race Day Packet pickup at the crack of dawn.
That being said, I still had the funnest (and almost the fastest) race of the three - turned off a 4:06 (it would have been faster in KM - ha!) but felt really great the whole way. Had a lot of fun working the crowd of spectators and runners, most of which I had given their packet to the day before. And, had a great downhill kick at the end with a stunning lakefront finish. Milwaukee is definitely my home town now!
Oh, and Milwaukee had the second-best shirt - a GREY technical with the race logo. Not as cool as Toronto! HOWEVER, I also got a very cool Black Volunteer Sweatshirt....AND an REI "Race Staff" Polar fleece for my Captain's duties. I'm Sporting Milwaukee gear three days a week now.....
I did the same thing as after Toronto, off to the YMCA for some spin classes immediately the morning following the Marathon. Also threw in a few hot tub sessions and did some shorter runs of the 3-4 mile variety during the week. Was ready to line up again for….
Chicago.....my old hometown. October 9
I gotta say, for those who don't know it - Chicago is a Really Big Race.
Really REALLY Big.
The runner expo in Chicago occupies about a city block in McCormick Place, a huge convention hall. It is like a major concert event. A cacophony of noise, people, activity, big companies - the City of Big Shoulders. You walk for about a mile just to get your packet and runner bib.
Over 40,000 runners signed up for the race. It is estimated that over a Million people spectate.
A million people.......
I've done Chicago 12 times now. Each time I ask myself "Why do I always do Chicago?"
Answer - 'cause it's there.... Or someone talks me into it. Or something. And, each year I forget what a crowd it is.... Can someone remind me next year, please?
Anyway come race day, it was a perfect day, weatherwise. Cool with a breeze, about 60 degrees. After all the speechifying and noise, and starting line hoopla, it took me only 6 minutes to get past the starting line after the gun went off. Which, for Chicago is not bad at all. The course covers all the great neighborhoods - Lincoln Park, the Loop, Wacker Drive, Little Poland, Greek Town, Little Mexico, China town...ending in Grant park by Buckingham fountain. Non-stop crowd support, bands, cheerleaders, screaming people, sirens - again, a CACOPHONY of noise. Lots of water stops, with blocks of spilled Gatorade, which, by the way resulted in treacherous footing from empty cups, gel packs, water......
It is a pretty flat course, except for one pretty good hill, which, for comedic purposes I'm sure, they put in the last .3 miles of the course.
I had a LITTLE foot pain, but managed to ignore it with the help of my friend I.B. Prufen - finishing in 4:11, which I put down to the crowd, and all the lateral movement, dodging walkers, empty cups, tiptoeing through the water stops.....etc. Oh, and probably doing two other ones the weeks before may have had an effect..... I was really glad to see the finish line, and kept cutting deals with myself to keep moving.........
Interesting that the winner of the Chicago finished the course in 2:07 (and I think he get's $50,000 for that) . At 2:07 on the clock, I was at about mile 13.6, or a little over half way. I suppose that the nice thing about running fast, is you can get off our feet quicker, but I bet if HE had to run for four hours......Oh, never mind.....:-)
Unfortunately for my Hometown the Chicago Marathon shirt, in fact, SUCKED.
As usual, by the way.
Too bad that one of the biggest races in the country has the worst shirt.
Prior to Chicago, I had considered adding Indianapolis to the list this upcoming weekend, making it "four in four" but right now, I'm looking forward to a weekend WITHOUT a Marathon. But, give me a day or so to recover..............
So, that is how I've spent the first few weeks of the fall of 2005. I guess there are worse ways to spend Eternity. And, you should see all my cool finisher medals!
Oh, and anybody want an XL Chicago Marathon Long Sleeve T-shirt? never worn! would be a great thing to wrap a Cold Dog or Cat in........
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Blessings to you all, and thanks for reading my ramblings....
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