My training schedule called for a 17-miler today, but after I decided to run a 5K yesterday, I decided I probably didn't need to go that far. Indeed, counting my warmup and cooldown, I ran about 9 miles yesterday, so 17 did seem a little excessive as I headed into week two of tapering. I settled on a plan to run 13.
What I forgot is that I don't have a car this weekend. My wife took one car to the airport, and my daughter needs the other car for yoga class. That meant I needed to run into town to meet up with the DART group. After joining up with Chad, Todd, and Jeremy, we established that Chad and I were the only ones going longer than 6 miles.
That was fine -- Chad and I would do a long loop out to River Run, and Todd and Jeremy would turn back after three miles. For the first three miles I mostly ran with Todd, who'll be joining me at Big Sur in two weeks. Todd had run a marathon last week and a half marathon yesterday, so he was feeling quite sore today. I told Todd and Chad that I was planning on running 13 miles next week, and they were quite shocked that I was planning that many miles so close to a marathon. I pointed out that I've been running 60+ miles a week, and a 13-miler on Sunday feels very short to me. They didn't buy it, but I'm going to stick the the program that has gotten me this far.
After four miles at an 8-minute pace, Jeremy and Todd headed home and Chad and I continued on. Chad wanted to take a look at the new greenway in River Run. We eased off the 8-minute pace, but still maintained a fairly aggressive pace: Miles 5-10 were 8:32, 8:13, 8:08, 8:22, 8:30, 8:21. Miles 8 and 9 were on the new greenway in River Run, roughly a mile through a beautiful forest. It's a gorgeous stretch of trail, but it made me a bit sad that none of the bits and pieces of greenway in Davidson actually connect up with each other. We have a mile stretch near Davidson Elementary, another mile and a half by Davidson Woods, a mile away, and a mile or so ready to open in River Run, perhaps four miles away. Fisher Farm has some great trails and greenways, but again, they are more than three miles from any other trail or greenway. The plan is to eventually have them connect together; hopefully I'll be able to ride, run, or walk on a single interconnected system before I have grandkids.
After Mile 10 I was finally beginning to feel the effects of yesterday's race. We took one last break and then headed home at a slower pace: Miles 11-14 were 8:18, 8:37, 8:44, 8:39. When you add in my 1.3 mile run into town, I had done exactly 15 miles, at an average pace of 8:20, even including those 9-minute miles I ran into town. I think if I can do that on the day after a hard trail race, I should be able to run Big Sur at an 8-minute pace on fresh legs and a carbo-loaded body. Let's hope so!
Week in review:
6 runs
Distance: 51.84 mi
Average pace: 8:43
Elevation gain: 2,239 ft
Avg Elevation Gain: 320 ft
Nearly 52 miles would be a long week for a lot of people, but for me, it seemed very minimal. The weekend was a little tougher, but still a reduction in miles compared to what I've done in recent weeks. This coming week my taper will be even more dramatic, with only about 41 miles total and four days of 6 miles or less.
Details of today's run are below:
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Race Recap: The Run of the Mill 5K
As Saturday's race approached, things weren't looking good for the Run of the Mill 5K. The weather was slated to be stormy all day Saturday. "Bring a towel, a hat, and a change of clothes," Chad suggested on Facebook. But when Chad showed up at my door at 7:20 to give me a ride to the race, it seemed for a moment that our fortunes were changing. The rain had stopped, and the weather websites showed the rain holding off until well after our 9:00 start.
We arrived at the lovely Murray's Mill just before 8, and had to wait a few minutes for the volunteers to get organized so we could sign in.
Fortunately, we still had plenty of time to preview the course, which we'd never seen before and hadn't been able to find a map of in advance. The race website says it's "run on mowed fields and trails around the beautiful and historic Murray's Mill." How hilly are they? How rough? We didn't know. In fact, we had a hard time figuring out where the course was: No one seemed to know for sure. Finally someone pointed us in the general direction we'd be running, so we headed off on a preview/warmup run.
At one point along the preview we had to make a hairpin turn around a fence and run down past the mill. It seemed clear enough at a leisurely preview pace, but this turn ended up being less obvious at race pace. One thing was certain: It really was a beautiful course, running along open fields, the shores of a pristine pond, past the historic mill, and through lush forests. And the rain seemed to be holding off.
We ran what we were pretty sure was the full course, which Garmin measured as 3.2 miles. In fact we had run the first loop backwards, but that turned out not to matter much. It was 8:45 a.m.; all we needed to do now was find the starting line.
As you can see from the photo, it was next to an old barn. Since it was a cross-country course, they lined us up all in a row, about 35 people wide and only 2 or 3 deep. We could see the finish tents from the start, and while the race director was making final announcements, a huge gust of wind blew one of the tents across the field below us. We all giggled as the timing crew chased it down. Finally everything was tied down and they started the race.
It was the sort of start I hadn't experienced since my days on my high school cross-country team: A mad dash across a field, everyone trying to establish position before the trail narrowed. When the dust (or mud, as the case may be) settled, I was in third place, with just two highschoolers in front of me. As I climbed the first hill through a field and headed back down the other side, I could hear footsteps behind me. I hoped it was Chad, and in a few more moments my hunch proved true, and Chad was next to me telling me I had a good shot at third overall. As I grunted an acknowledgment, I was thinking he might have a better shot. My timer beeped indicating Mile 1 was over: 6:59. Not bad for a trail race.
Chad noticed the highschoolers up ahead were looking a little lackadaisical. Maybe we could catch them. We seemed to be gaining ground on them as we passed back through the mill area near the start. Chad had pulled about 10 meters ahead of me, and the two leaders were perhaps 20 meters ahead. They ran straight past the fence where we were supposed to make a hairpin turn! Or maybe we weren't supposed to turn there. There were no course spotters directing us, and there was no sign indicating a turn. The trail crested a hill and headed back down towards the start-finish area. This was definitely not right. I could see Chad and the two highschoolers heading towards the finish line, but the timer turned them around. Chad later told me he asked him where they were supposed to go. The answer: "I don't know."
At this point, before I got to the finish area, I just stopped running. I stopped my Garmin too. Clearly I had no chance of a PR or a decent placing. Then someone who looked authoritative pointed me back towards the fence where I had thought we were supposed to make a hairpin turn. I decided if I couldn't finish the race at least I could direct the other runners the right way, so I sprinted back to the point of the turn and yelled at the runners who were heading the wrong way, telling them to turn around. I had directed about 5 or 10 runners when Chad and the two highschoolers came running up the trail. "C'mon, Dave," Chad said. I figured the runners behind us could now just follow along, so I decided to join back into the race. I started my timer and took off. Soon we ran past the historic mill. Since our times were shot, Chad and I decided to stop and take pictures:
Just kidding! We actually took the pictures during our preview run. Next we ran up a narrow trail and between two old millstones:
Along this section we regained our stride and started to pass the slower runners. After we passed what should have been the original two-mile marker, we were down to the original group of four leaders: A highschooler in a UNC shirt, another one in a gray shirt, Chad, and me. I could hear another runner not far behind me though. My 2-mile split, which was really rather pointless since it involved me stopping and restarting the timer, was 7:17. Now we were running through a wooded area on narrow trails. Here's another shot from the preview run:
Then we ran across a boardwalk:
Lovely! At the end of the boardwalk, there were two spotters pointing us to the right (why couldn't one of them have been stationed at that hairpin turn?). I asked them if there was anyone ahead of our group, and they said no. I was still in fourth place! But I was also starting to drag. I could see Chad ahead, neck and neck with UNC guy. Gray shirt guy was still ahead of me, but not by much. Whenever there was a sharp corner, he cut it much closer than I dared; the grass was longer in these rough areas and I didn't want to twist an ankle. This meant he gained 5 or 10 meters on me. I could still hear another runner right behind me, so I did all I could to maintain my pace. With about 200 meters to go, Gray shirt guy took off in a sprint. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to pass him, but I didn't want to be passed, so I picked up the pace as well, finishing in a dead sprint.
The results are posted here. My official finishing time was 26:19 for an 8:28 pace. But that didn't count the extra half-mile or so we ran when we went off course. My partial Garmin plot records a 7:20 pace. Chad said he recorded over 3.6 miles in what is supposed to be a 3.1-mile race. Overall, I was fourth. Chad was second overall. I didn't get an award because the race only gave prizes for first overall and first in each 10-year age group. So "UNC guy," 14-year-old Dakota Lewis, got first, Chad got first in the 40-49 age group, and "Gray shirt guy," 14-year-old Jordan Thompson, got first in the 11-15 age group. The guy who was right on my tail, Jason Hoyle, won the 20-29 age group.
After Chad picked up his trophy, we headed home. Naturally we stopped along the way for some DART-brand coffee!
Overall, a strange race, but a beautiful course, and an enjoyable overall experience. I'd like to come back next year and give it another shot now that I know the course.
My incomplete Garmin record of the race is below:
We arrived at the lovely Murray's Mill just before 8, and had to wait a few minutes for the volunteers to get organized so we could sign in.
 |
| We hoped this sign wasn't foreshadowing our race pace |
Fortunately, we still had plenty of time to preview the course, which we'd never seen before and hadn't been able to find a map of in advance. The race website says it's "run on mowed fields and trails around the beautiful and historic Murray's Mill." How hilly are they? How rough? We didn't know. In fact, we had a hard time figuring out where the course was: No one seemed to know for sure. Finally someone pointed us in the general direction we'd be running, so we headed off on a preview/warmup run.
 |
| Here Chad runs the wrong direction around the first loop of the course |
At one point along the preview we had to make a hairpin turn around a fence and run down past the mill. It seemed clear enough at a leisurely preview pace, but this turn ended up being less obvious at race pace. One thing was certain: It really was a beautiful course, running along open fields, the shores of a pristine pond, past the historic mill, and through lush forests. And the rain seemed to be holding off.
We ran what we were pretty sure was the full course, which Garmin measured as 3.2 miles. In fact we had run the first loop backwards, but that turned out not to matter much. It was 8:45 a.m.; all we needed to do now was find the starting line.
 |
| Where's my corral? |
As you can see from the photo, it was next to an old barn. Since it was a cross-country course, they lined us up all in a row, about 35 people wide and only 2 or 3 deep. We could see the finish tents from the start, and while the race director was making final announcements, a huge gust of wind blew one of the tents across the field below us. We all giggled as the timing crew chased it down. Finally everything was tied down and they started the race.
It was the sort of start I hadn't experienced since my days on my high school cross-country team: A mad dash across a field, everyone trying to establish position before the trail narrowed. When the dust (or mud, as the case may be) settled, I was in third place, with just two highschoolers in front of me. As I climbed the first hill through a field and headed back down the other side, I could hear footsteps behind me. I hoped it was Chad, and in a few more moments my hunch proved true, and Chad was next to me telling me I had a good shot at third overall. As I grunted an acknowledgment, I was thinking he might have a better shot. My timer beeped indicating Mile 1 was over: 6:59. Not bad for a trail race.
Chad noticed the highschoolers up ahead were looking a little lackadaisical. Maybe we could catch them. We seemed to be gaining ground on them as we passed back through the mill area near the start. Chad had pulled about 10 meters ahead of me, and the two leaders were perhaps 20 meters ahead. They ran straight past the fence where we were supposed to make a hairpin turn! Or maybe we weren't supposed to turn there. There were no course spotters directing us, and there was no sign indicating a turn. The trail crested a hill and headed back down towards the start-finish area. This was definitely not right. I could see Chad and the two highschoolers heading towards the finish line, but the timer turned them around. Chad later told me he asked him where they were supposed to go. The answer: "I don't know."
At this point, before I got to the finish area, I just stopped running. I stopped my Garmin too. Clearly I had no chance of a PR or a decent placing. Then someone who looked authoritative pointed me back towards the fence where I had thought we were supposed to make a hairpin turn. I decided if I couldn't finish the race at least I could direct the other runners the right way, so I sprinted back to the point of the turn and yelled at the runners who were heading the wrong way, telling them to turn around. I had directed about 5 or 10 runners when Chad and the two highschoolers came running up the trail. "C'mon, Dave," Chad said. I figured the runners behind us could now just follow along, so I decided to join back into the race. I started my timer and took off. Soon we ran past the historic mill. Since our times were shot, Chad and I decided to stop and take pictures:
 |
| Chad still isn't sure this is the right way |
 |
| I think this waterfall is quite picturesque |
Just kidding! We actually took the pictures during our preview run. Next we ran up a narrow trail and between two old millstones:
 |
| You'd think the trail goes straight ahead; actually it goes to the right |
Along this section we regained our stride and started to pass the slower runners. After we passed what should have been the original two-mile marker, we were down to the original group of four leaders: A highschooler in a UNC shirt, another one in a gray shirt, Chad, and me. I could hear another runner not far behind me though. My 2-mile split, which was really rather pointless since it involved me stopping and restarting the timer, was 7:17. Now we were running through a wooded area on narrow trails. Here's another shot from the preview run:
 |
| Chad weaves deftly through the trees |
Lovely! At the end of the boardwalk, there were two spotters pointing us to the right (why couldn't one of them have been stationed at that hairpin turn?). I asked them if there was anyone ahead of our group, and they said no. I was still in fourth place! But I was also starting to drag. I could see Chad ahead, neck and neck with UNC guy. Gray shirt guy was still ahead of me, but not by much. Whenever there was a sharp corner, he cut it much closer than I dared; the grass was longer in these rough areas and I didn't want to twist an ankle. This meant he gained 5 or 10 meters on me. I could still hear another runner right behind me, so I did all I could to maintain my pace. With about 200 meters to go, Gray shirt guy took off in a sprint. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to pass him, but I didn't want to be passed, so I picked up the pace as well, finishing in a dead sprint.
The results are posted here. My official finishing time was 26:19 for an 8:28 pace. But that didn't count the extra half-mile or so we ran when we went off course. My partial Garmin plot records a 7:20 pace. Chad said he recorded over 3.6 miles in what is supposed to be a 3.1-mile race. Overall, I was fourth. Chad was second overall. I didn't get an award because the race only gave prizes for first overall and first in each 10-year age group. So "UNC guy," 14-year-old Dakota Lewis, got first, Chad got first in the 40-49 age group, and "Gray shirt guy," 14-year-old Jordan Thompson, got first in the 11-15 age group. The guy who was right on my tail, Jason Hoyle, won the 20-29 age group.
After Chad picked up his trophy, we headed home. Naturally we stopped along the way for some DART-brand coffee!
 |
| Notice the label in the center of the lid! |
My incomplete Garmin record of the race is below:
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Oops
Remember a few days ago when I said the Elizabeth 8K was my first-ever 8K? That was #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement (If you don't get the reference, check out this video).
It turns out, I ran another 8K last year on February 21, back when I had barely hatched the idea of running a marathon. The race was the Salisbury Winter Flight 8K, which had been postponed due to snow and ended up being run on a very warm Sunday afternoon. The results are posted here (PDF link), and if you scroll waaaayyyy down, you'll see that I finished in 43:32, for an 8:45 pace. No wonder I had forgotten about that!
So, in a little over a year, I improved my 8K time from 43:32 to 34:20, from an 8:45 pace to a 6:55 pace. Not bad, eh?
Now my goal is to run an entire marathon at an 8:00 pace. Indeed, if I just ran a marathon at the 8:45 pace I ran last year over a distance of only five miles, I'd probably be a bit disappointed, even though that's a perfectly reasonable pace for a first marathon on a difficult course.
This morning I did a 5-mile recovery run that was supposed to be very easy one. It wasn't terrible, but it didn't feel great, even at a 10-minute pace. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, just a few creaky bones, but it's a reminder that I need to keep working at this. I have another recovery run slated for tomorrow so hopefully I'll feel better for that one.
Details of today's workout are below.
It turns out, I ran another 8K last year on February 21, back when I had barely hatched the idea of running a marathon. The race was the Salisbury Winter Flight 8K, which had been postponed due to snow and ended up being run on a very warm Sunday afternoon. The results are posted here (PDF link), and if you scroll waaaayyyy down, you'll see that I finished in 43:32, for an 8:45 pace. No wonder I had forgotten about that!
So, in a little over a year, I improved my 8K time from 43:32 to 34:20, from an 8:45 pace to a 6:55 pace. Not bad, eh?
Now my goal is to run an entire marathon at an 8:00 pace. Indeed, if I just ran a marathon at the 8:45 pace I ran last year over a distance of only five miles, I'd probably be a bit disappointed, even though that's a perfectly reasonable pace for a first marathon on a difficult course.
This morning I did a 5-mile recovery run that was supposed to be very easy one. It wasn't terrible, but it didn't feel great, even at a 10-minute pace. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, just a few creaky bones, but it's a reminder that I need to keep working at this. I have another recovery run slated for tomorrow so hopefully I'll feel better for that one.
Details of today's workout are below.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Tapering is weird
My training program for the Big Sur Marathon requires a lot of miles. I've had 3:15 marathoners tell me they've never run the kind of mileage I'm running to get ready for this race. Of course, these guys weigh 30 pounds less than I do, but that's beside the point. I'm doing this program because top marathoners run a lot of miles, and studies have shown that mileage is the single best predictor of marathon performance. That might be related to the fact that people who are injured don't run a lot of miles, but I do think the sheer number of miles I have run has really helped me improve.
But nearly any training program you choose will also ask runners to taper -- to decrease the number of miles they run, starting three weeks before the race. So that's what I'm doing. A week ago today I ran 10.5 miles; today I did 8.85. Last Thursday I did 14 hilly miles; tomorrow I'll do 5 easy miles. Overall this week I'll run about 50 miles; last week I did 62. That may not seem like much of a difference, but the reality on the ground is a lot different. Instead of doing runs that push me to my limit, I stop when I'm still feeling strong. Next week will be even stranger, with only about 42 miles planned.
Today, for example, I did the usual DART run, 1.3 miles into town and a 6.3 mile loop, but I didn't push too much, running with Rodney at about a 7:45 pace. After coffee with the guys I made the easy run home and felt like I still had another 5 miles in me. And yet after this easy run, I have two recovery days planned, just 5 miles on each day at a 10-minute pace! Sure, the weekend will be a little tough, with a 5K trail race on Saturday and a 17-miler on Sunday, but it's nothing like what I've been running the past several weeks. It just feels strange.
The idea is that you're not going to lose any fitness over three weeks, and the taper will ensure that you're fresh for the main event. But it doesn't make it any less weird when you're going through it.
Details of today's workout are below.
But nearly any training program you choose will also ask runners to taper -- to decrease the number of miles they run, starting three weeks before the race. So that's what I'm doing. A week ago today I ran 10.5 miles; today I did 8.85. Last Thursday I did 14 hilly miles; tomorrow I'll do 5 easy miles. Overall this week I'll run about 50 miles; last week I did 62. That may not seem like much of a difference, but the reality on the ground is a lot different. Instead of doing runs that push me to my limit, I stop when I'm still feeling strong. Next week will be even stranger, with only about 42 miles planned.
Today, for example, I did the usual DART run, 1.3 miles into town and a 6.3 mile loop, but I didn't push too much, running with Rodney at about a 7:45 pace. After coffee with the guys I made the easy run home and felt like I still had another 5 miles in me. And yet after this easy run, I have two recovery days planned, just 5 miles on each day at a 10-minute pace! Sure, the weekend will be a little tough, with a 5K trail race on Saturday and a 17-miler on Sunday, but it's nothing like what I've been running the past several weeks. It just feels strange.
The idea is that you're not going to lose any fitness over three weeks, and the taper will ensure that you're fresh for the main event. But it doesn't make it any less weird when you're going through it.
Details of today's workout are below.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Never say "last"
On Sunday I was pretty sure I had run my last tough 17-miler before the big marathon. Today, I'm not so sure.
On Facebook, Chad had mentioned that there were lots of great races coming up this weekend, and this morning during our usual DART run he said he had settled in on one: The Run of the Mill 5K Run/Walk for Charity in Catawba, NC. He didn't exactly talk me into it, but somehow I've decided to do it. I live about a mile from the Catawba River, but I've never been to the town of Catawba, about 40 miles from here.
It was only after I signed up that I noticed that the race is run "on a cross-country trail." Yikes! This could be anything from singletrack to smooth, hard-packed gravel. At any rate, it probably means my 5K PR is safe for the time being. Whatever the trail is like, it also probably means my planned 17-mile run on Sunday just went from being a relatively easy one to another toughie on tired legs.
Today's run marked the start of my taper for Big Sur. Often on Tuesdays I'll run a very aggressive pace for the 6.3 mile loop with the DART group, but today I decided to take it easy. I ran the 1.3 miles into town in a light drizzle, and was surprised to see Todd, Chad, and a new runner, Michael, waiting at the CVS despite the rain.
We didn't know how fast Michael wanted to go, so we took off at an 8-minute pace. That ended up being a little fast for him, so he and Chad slowed down while Todd and I kept going at roughly the same pace. It was good to talk to Todd about his performance in the Charlottesville Marathon last weekend. He set a 3:18 PR in the race, qualifying him for Boston and helping him relax a bit about Big Sur. He told me he was planning on starting off Big Sur at a relatively easy pace, and only picking it up if he was really feeling great. I've heard that before, right before he ripped out a few 7-minute miles. Todd and I will be running Big Sur together, but I doubt we'll actually be running side-by-side for long, if at all.
After Todd and I finished, I jogged back to meet up with Chad and Michael, and ran back into town with them. I'd done 8 miles, which I decided was close enough to my planned 9-miler, so after a cup of coffee at Summit, I got a ride home with Chad. Tomorrow I'll do another 9-miler, which, assuming everything goes according to plan, will be my longest midweek run between now and Big Sur.
Details of today's run are below:
On Facebook, Chad had mentioned that there were lots of great races coming up this weekend, and this morning during our usual DART run he said he had settled in on one: The Run of the Mill 5K Run/Walk for Charity in Catawba, NC. He didn't exactly talk me into it, but somehow I've decided to do it. I live about a mile from the Catawba River, but I've never been to the town of Catawba, about 40 miles from here.
It was only after I signed up that I noticed that the race is run "on a cross-country trail." Yikes! This could be anything from singletrack to smooth, hard-packed gravel. At any rate, it probably means my 5K PR is safe for the time being. Whatever the trail is like, it also probably means my planned 17-mile run on Sunday just went from being a relatively easy one to another toughie on tired legs.
Today's run marked the start of my taper for Big Sur. Often on Tuesdays I'll run a very aggressive pace for the 6.3 mile loop with the DART group, but today I decided to take it easy. I ran the 1.3 miles into town in a light drizzle, and was surprised to see Todd, Chad, and a new runner, Michael, waiting at the CVS despite the rain.
We didn't know how fast Michael wanted to go, so we took off at an 8-minute pace. That ended up being a little fast for him, so he and Chad slowed down while Todd and I kept going at roughly the same pace. It was good to talk to Todd about his performance in the Charlottesville Marathon last weekend. He set a 3:18 PR in the race, qualifying him for Boston and helping him relax a bit about Big Sur. He told me he was planning on starting off Big Sur at a relatively easy pace, and only picking it up if he was really feeling great. I've heard that before, right before he ripped out a few 7-minute miles. Todd and I will be running Big Sur together, but I doubt we'll actually be running side-by-side for long, if at all.
After Todd and I finished, I jogged back to meet up with Chad and Michael, and ran back into town with them. I'd done 8 miles, which I decided was close enough to my planned 9-miler, so after a cup of coffee at Summit, I got a ride home with Chad. Tomorrow I'll do another 9-miler, which, assuming everything goes according to plan, will be my longest midweek run between now and Big Sur.
Details of today's run are below:
Sunday, April 10, 2011
My last tough 17
It's never easy doing a long run the day after a hard tempo run or a race, and today was no exception. After a hard-run 8K, a total of 8 miles run yesterday including warm-up and cool-down, I knew today's 17-mile run would be a grind. As usual, the DART group took off quickly, and as usual, I stayed with them even though I knew it would make it harder for me later.
After running the first 8 miles at around an 8-minute pace, it was time to slow down. Fortunately, Chad was sympathetic. He had run a 5K yesterday and a 100-miler last weekend, so he was ready to do some easy miles. We let the rest of the group run ahead and slowed to an 8:30 pace for the next 4 miles. We arrived back in town, chatted with the rest of the gang, then headed out on our own for five more miles. These we did at closer to a 9-minute pace.
We were really starting to drag on the last mile when Chad had a suggestion: "Let's pick it up for the next block. Just one block, and then we can slow it down again." I groaned, but one block seemed doable, so I took him up on the offer. Amazingly, after a block at about a 7:30 pace I really did feel better, and we were able to maintain a slightly faster for the last mile, which we completed in 8:49 (compared to 9:10 for Mile 16). At this point, we were still about a half-mile out of town, but we had done our 17, so we walked it in from there. I'm going to have to remember that strategy if I'm ever dragging in the race.
It wasn't an ideal run, but not bad given the circumstances. My average pace for the day was 8:24. Yes, I slowed at the end, but the fast start gave me a chance to chat with running buddies instead of running the whole 17 miles alone.
This week I'm going to begin my taper for the Big Sur Marathon. The last couple weeks I've run longer than 60 miles; this week I'll do 53. Then next week I'll do 42, and finally 28 the week leading up to the marathon. My longest midweek run for the upcoming week is just 10 miles, and for the following week it will be 8.
Details of today's run are below:
After running the first 8 miles at around an 8-minute pace, it was time to slow down. Fortunately, Chad was sympathetic. He had run a 5K yesterday and a 100-miler last weekend, so he was ready to do some easy miles. We let the rest of the group run ahead and slowed to an 8:30 pace for the next 4 miles. We arrived back in town, chatted with the rest of the gang, then headed out on our own for five more miles. These we did at closer to a 9-minute pace.
We were really starting to drag on the last mile when Chad had a suggestion: "Let's pick it up for the next block. Just one block, and then we can slow it down again." I groaned, but one block seemed doable, so I took him up on the offer. Amazingly, after a block at about a 7:30 pace I really did feel better, and we were able to maintain a slightly faster for the last mile, which we completed in 8:49 (compared to 9:10 for Mile 16). At this point, we were still about a half-mile out of town, but we had done our 17, so we walked it in from there. I'm going to have to remember that strategy if I'm ever dragging in the race.
It wasn't an ideal run, but not bad given the circumstances. My average pace for the day was 8:24. Yes, I slowed at the end, but the fast start gave me a chance to chat with running buddies instead of running the whole 17 miles alone.
This week I'm going to begin my taper for the Big Sur Marathon. The last couple weeks I've run longer than 60 miles; this week I'll do 53. Then next week I'll do 42, and finally 28 the week leading up to the marathon. My longest midweek run for the upcoming week is just 10 miles, and for the following week it will be 8.
Details of today's run are below:
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Race Recap: The Elizabeth 8K
With just three weeks to go before the Big Sur Marathon, I wanted to do one last tune-up race to make sure I'm still firing on all cylinders. Ideally it would have been a 10K, but those seem to be harder and harder to come by these days, so I settled on the Elizabeth 8K. It's a race with a long tradition in Charlotte, so it's quite popular, with over 500 registrants (compared to just 204 in the St. Leo 10K).
I've never run an 8K before, so I spent some time yesterday coming up with a strategy for the race: I wanted to run 6:50 per mile for the first three miles, then slow a bit on the uphill Mile 4, and pick it up for the final .97 miles in Mile 5. Overall I was hoping for a 35:00 time or better — under a 7-minute-mile pace.
Race registration was cheerful and efficient, with a new kind of race chip I'd never seen before — a flexible strip of plastic that you slide under your shoelaces. It seemed similar to the in-bib chips they had at the National Half Marathon, but you still had to place it on your shoe.
Thankfully, the lines at the porta-johns weren't long at all.
The race was started by a guy in an Elvis suit, who was really getting into the act, waving a big "E" flag and interacting with all the runners. He saw my knee brace and pulled up his pantleg to reveal that he had a similar injury. Then we were off. I was breathing hard, but the pace didn't feel too labored. There wasn't a lot of passing at the start, so I think most of us had placed ourselves about right (I was about 15 feet behind the starting line).
The first mile was a very slight uphill, a total of about 50 vertical feet. I completed it in 6:28, a little faster than planned. I tried to slow my pace a bit for Mile 2, which was mostly flat. Garmin recorded it as minus 20 vertical feet, but I swear there was a little uphill too. I finished the mile in 6:42, still a little faster than I'd planned. On the plus side, I had banked 50 seconds in my quest for a sub-7-minute pace.
I had planned to get a bit of a breather in Mile 3, which looked to be downhill from the elevation chart I found online:
But Garmin elevation charts are notoriously fussy, and this turned out to be no exception. The first part of Mile 3 was actually uphill; the downhills don't really start until after about 2.5 miles. I did finally get my breather, but it didn't last quite as long as I had hoped it would be. My Mile 3 split was 7:03, so I still had 47 seconds in the bank.
Mile 4, however, was true to the elevation chart: It was solidly uphill. My Garmin record tracked it as 66 vertical feet; it felt like a fair bit more than that. Somewhere during Mile 3, a guy about my age wearing a sun visor had passed me, and I was trying to keep him in my sights. But Visorman stayed steadily about 20 meters ahead of me, now matter how hard I tried to gain ground on him. I thought my hill training might help me reel him in during Mile 4, but it was no use. My Mile 4 split was 7:27, so I still had 20 seconds in the bank.
In fact, I might have had a bit more than that: Unlike most races I've been in, my Garmin was tracking this course a little short. So my mile split was recorded a little farther past each mile marker as I ran along. I think this might be because of the large number of sharp turns in the course; the GPS can sometimes clip corners.
I expected Mile 5 to be basically flat with a downhill finish. In fact, it started on a bit of an uphill. I probably should have pushed myself a little harder than I did here, because I was so close to the finish, but I was still tired from Mile 4. I also think my lack of experience with 8Ks didn't help: In every other common race distance, the race is just a bit longer than a round mileage: 5Ks are 3.1 miles, 10Ks are 6.2 miles, and half-marathons are 13.1 miles. 8Ks, by contrast, are 4.97 miles. So the last mile isn't even a mile long, whereas when you start Mile 6 of a 10K, you've actually still got 1.2 miles left. In an 8K, I now realize, you can start pushing the pace sooner.
This all meant I was surprised to see the finish line when it arrived. I had plenty of energy left for a full-out sprint to the finish, as I watched the clock tick upwards starting at 34:00 flat. There was no question I'd break 35 minutes; the only question was by how much.
I crossed the line at 34:20, ten seconds behind Visorman (who turned out to be a very nice guy named Kent Walker, and he was indeed in my age group). I ran the final .97 miles (or .93 according to my Garmin) at a 7:13 pace. I think if I'd been a bit more aggressive on that final mile I might have been able to do it in 6:50, putting me safely under 34 minutes. But all in all, I'm happy with the result. I was shooting for a sub-35-minute run at a sub-7-minute pace, and I did it in 34:20 and a 6:55 pace. Here's the obligatory post-race self-portrait:
The race results have been posted here. I finished 5th in my age group and 27th overall out of 506 finishers. Although the results aren't broken down by gender, it looks like I was 23rd out of 233 men, which puts me in the top 10 percent—I think that's the best I've ever done. My 6:55 pace was actually faster than my 6:56 5K PR pace (albeit on an easier course). So even though I faded a bit at the finish, this is a pretty good result, and gives me a lot of confidence going into Big Sur.
The details of the run are below:
I've never run an 8K before, so I spent some time yesterday coming up with a strategy for the race: I wanted to run 6:50 per mile for the first three miles, then slow a bit on the uphill Mile 4, and pick it up for the final .97 miles in Mile 5. Overall I was hoping for a 35:00 time or better — under a 7-minute-mile pace.
Race registration was cheerful and efficient, with a new kind of race chip I'd never seen before — a flexible strip of plastic that you slide under your shoelaces. It seemed similar to the in-bib chips they had at the National Half Marathon, but you still had to place it on your shoe.
Thankfully, the lines at the porta-johns weren't long at all.
The race was started by a guy in an Elvis suit, who was really getting into the act, waving a big "E" flag and interacting with all the runners. He saw my knee brace and pulled up his pantleg to reveal that he had a similar injury. Then we were off. I was breathing hard, but the pace didn't feel too labored. There wasn't a lot of passing at the start, so I think most of us had placed ourselves about right (I was about 15 feet behind the starting line).
The first mile was a very slight uphill, a total of about 50 vertical feet. I completed it in 6:28, a little faster than planned. I tried to slow my pace a bit for Mile 2, which was mostly flat. Garmin recorded it as minus 20 vertical feet, but I swear there was a little uphill too. I finished the mile in 6:42, still a little faster than I'd planned. On the plus side, I had banked 50 seconds in my quest for a sub-7-minute pace.
I had planned to get a bit of a breather in Mile 3, which looked to be downhill from the elevation chart I found online:
But Garmin elevation charts are notoriously fussy, and this turned out to be no exception. The first part of Mile 3 was actually uphill; the downhills don't really start until after about 2.5 miles. I did finally get my breather, but it didn't last quite as long as I had hoped it would be. My Mile 3 split was 7:03, so I still had 47 seconds in the bank.
Mile 4, however, was true to the elevation chart: It was solidly uphill. My Garmin record tracked it as 66 vertical feet; it felt like a fair bit more than that. Somewhere during Mile 3, a guy about my age wearing a sun visor had passed me, and I was trying to keep him in my sights. But Visorman stayed steadily about 20 meters ahead of me, now matter how hard I tried to gain ground on him. I thought my hill training might help me reel him in during Mile 4, but it was no use. My Mile 4 split was 7:27, so I still had 20 seconds in the bank.
In fact, I might have had a bit more than that: Unlike most races I've been in, my Garmin was tracking this course a little short. So my mile split was recorded a little farther past each mile marker as I ran along. I think this might be because of the large number of sharp turns in the course; the GPS can sometimes clip corners.
I expected Mile 5 to be basically flat with a downhill finish. In fact, it started on a bit of an uphill. I probably should have pushed myself a little harder than I did here, because I was so close to the finish, but I was still tired from Mile 4. I also think my lack of experience with 8Ks didn't help: In every other common race distance, the race is just a bit longer than a round mileage: 5Ks are 3.1 miles, 10Ks are 6.2 miles, and half-marathons are 13.1 miles. 8Ks, by contrast, are 4.97 miles. So the last mile isn't even a mile long, whereas when you start Mile 6 of a 10K, you've actually still got 1.2 miles left. In an 8K, I now realize, you can start pushing the pace sooner.
This all meant I was surprised to see the finish line when it arrived. I had plenty of energy left for a full-out sprint to the finish, as I watched the clock tick upwards starting at 34:00 flat. There was no question I'd break 35 minutes; the only question was by how much.
I crossed the line at 34:20, ten seconds behind Visorman (who turned out to be a very nice guy named Kent Walker, and he was indeed in my age group). I ran the final .97 miles (or .93 according to my Garmin) at a 7:13 pace. I think if I'd been a bit more aggressive on that final mile I might have been able to do it in 6:50, putting me safely under 34 minutes. But all in all, I'm happy with the result. I was shooting for a sub-35-minute run at a sub-7-minute pace, and I did it in 34:20 and a 6:55 pace. Here's the obligatory post-race self-portrait:
The race results have been posted here. I finished 5th in my age group and 27th overall out of 506 finishers. Although the results aren't broken down by gender, it looks like I was 23rd out of 233 men, which puts me in the top 10 percent—I think that's the best I've ever done. My 6:55 pace was actually faster than my 6:56 5K PR pace (albeit on an easier course). So even though I faded a bit at the finish, this is a pretty good result, and gives me a lot of confidence going into Big Sur.
The details of the run are below:
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