Today felt like the first true run of Spring. This happens every year, and it is something I eagerly anticipate: the day when the crusty shell of winter cracks and all things seem to be leaping into motion again. It is not only a matter of the weather but also the day when time and opportunity coincide to create the conditions for a perfect run. The air is cool, and piles of snow still lurk in the shadows, but the sun is warm, and the brisk wind carries no bite. The miles pass easily. I am doing 18--the first long run on my road to 26.2 in Burlington, VT. Hills and wind only seem to make me stronger. My plan is to run 16 then step up to 7:00 (race pace) for the last two--to get used to running that speed on tired legs. But it's one of those days when holding back is impossible. I am not looking at my watch. Only occasional glances over the middle 12 show my pace falling from 7:24, to 7:20, to 7:16. At last I hit mile 16 and accelerate, and now I do start to feel it. But it's a good feeling, the best possible kind of tired.
I didn't bring any water--something I won't be able to get away with much longer. When I get back home, I see the wind has baked on crusty streaks of salt across my forehead and all down my temples. It's 10am and already I know it's going to be a good day.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
OFTM Race Report
Every race presents its own unique challenge. Sometimes the challenge is the weather, sometimes the terrain. Sometimes it's your own level of fitness, not being where you want it to be. When I reach the start line of a race, I try to let go of all my suppositions about what the day's challenge was supposed to have been. When the gun sounds, there is only the race, and me.
I don't always succeed in this. But the point, when it works, is that I don't beat myself up about, say, driving rain preventing a PR day. Or, more to the point for this weekend's race, a bitter snowy winter partially (but not entirely) excusing a string of bad training weeks, leaving me nowhere near where I hoped I'd be in terms of fitness.
I ran the Foxboro Old Fashioned 10 Miler on Sunday. When I reflect on the race in the light I described, I give it a performance of....adequate. I was breathing hard; I felt sluggish, I did not feel quick, or excited, or aggressive. I went to work on that race like a man digging a ditch, or filling in the ditch some other dumb fella had just dug. Little excitement in the last mile except at the prospect of finishing.
I was slower than last year. But at the same time I held up OK. From the perspective of the year's theme ("redeeming the long race", remember?) it was satisfactory, or at least not a disgrace.
I think most of this is just winter blues. Last Friday, on my walk home from work, a warm wind was blowing through the town of Needham MA. I stripped off my vest, and then my fleece, stuffing them in my pack, and ran in my shirt-sleeves, warm air against my skin. It felt beautiful, like running is always supposed to feel.
Spring can't come soon enough.
I don't always succeed in this. But the point, when it works, is that I don't beat myself up about, say, driving rain preventing a PR day. Or, more to the point for this weekend's race, a bitter snowy winter partially (but not entirely) excusing a string of bad training weeks, leaving me nowhere near where I hoped I'd be in terms of fitness.
I ran the Foxboro Old Fashioned 10 Miler on Sunday. When I reflect on the race in the light I described, I give it a performance of....adequate. I was breathing hard; I felt sluggish, I did not feel quick, or excited, or aggressive. I went to work on that race like a man digging a ditch, or filling in the ditch some other dumb fella had just dug. Little excitement in the last mile except at the prospect of finishing.
I was slower than last year. But at the same time I held up OK. From the perspective of the year's theme ("redeeming the long race", remember?) it was satisfactory, or at least not a disgrace.
I think most of this is just winter blues. Last Friday, on my walk home from work, a warm wind was blowing through the town of Needham MA. I stripped off my vest, and then my fleece, stuffing them in my pack, and ran in my shirt-sleeves, warm air against my skin. It felt beautiful, like running is always supposed to feel.
Spring can't come soon enough.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
2011 Prospective
If there's one goal I'd like to achieve in this year 2011 CE, it could be summed up as: redeeming the long race. 2010 was a tough year for me and long races. I was in fact 0/3 successful races over the 10 mile distance. Some of these failures might not be obvious externally but--you always know when you didn't do the job you set out to do, even when your time or your place doesn't look so bad.
With that in mind, I'm happy to have had a strong start on that goal with the Derry 16M last week. I already blogged about it a bit on the club website, so I won't repeat the details. I was pleased to hold up well mentally over the last few miles, winning a little redemption from the embarrassment at Applefest (no you didn't miss a post--it was so bad I just never blogged about it). On the other hand, I was daunted that I ended up needing that mental reserve; my legs were wasted by the end, and it was pretty clear to me that, mental toughness aside, I wouldn't have been able to keep running more than another mile or two, forget 10.
That's not entirely surprising, as this snowy winter has kept my mileage way down--I've only been in the mid 30s these last few weeks.
Derry Mile 6
With all that in mind, here's a rough calendar of long races for 2011:
Old Fashioned 10 Miler (certain) 2/20 : last year went well. Hopefully I can live up to it this time around.
Hyannis Half Marathon (certain) 2/27: I've raced twice in Hyannis, one half, one full, neither successful. I'm going to turn it around this time!
DRB 50K (tentative) 4/17 : did this on a lark last year after my running friends from W. Va visited. I wasn't very serious about it and dropped out after 25K. Would like to return and finish the darned thing. I just have to come to terms with the pace that goes with the terrain, and the fact that, for this particular style of race, walking != fail.
Vermont City Marathon (certain) 5/29: It took me a year to get excited about running another marathon! At last I am, and I'm going to rock the shit out of this one! Burlington VT, here I come!
Highland Sky 40M (strong tentative) 6/18: How awesome would it be to go do an epic trail run, and visit my W. Va friends, all in one trip! I'm not sure how it'll play out, but I'll have a ruddy go at it--unless after Vermont City, I think my body is just physically unready for it.
Applefest Half Marathon (tentative) 10/1: I couldn't stand it if 2010 were my last mark on this race, but I'm not quite prepared to sign up for it again. Hopefully after Hyannis I'll be filled with confidence and ready to tear it up.
Mount Desert Island Marathon 10/16 (pure speculation): A friend mentioned this to me, and I went "oh, THAT race!" I had heard about it before and been really intrigued. I mean--the race has a fjord! What more could you want! Unfortunately the field is so small that I'll probably have to sign up soon if I really want to do it--I don't know yet, so we'll have to see. (any of you readers run it before?)
To get ready for all this distance awesomeness, it's apparent to me that I need more base. Like, lots more. Through a highly non-scientific process, I have seized on 70 miles as a peak marathon training volume, which I want to do running 6 times a week, no doubling up. I think if I can do that, then that BQ marathon time will just come naturally.
With that in mind, I'm happy to have had a strong start on that goal with the Derry 16M last week. I already blogged about it a bit on the club website, so I won't repeat the details. I was pleased to hold up well mentally over the last few miles, winning a little redemption from the embarrassment at Applefest (no you didn't miss a post--it was so bad I just never blogged about it). On the other hand, I was daunted that I ended up needing that mental reserve; my legs were wasted by the end, and it was pretty clear to me that, mental toughness aside, I wouldn't have been able to keep running more than another mile or two, forget 10.
That's not entirely surprising, as this snowy winter has kept my mileage way down--I've only been in the mid 30s these last few weeks.
Derry Mile 6
Mile 13
With all that in mind, here's a rough calendar of long races for 2011:
Old Fashioned 10 Miler (certain) 2/20 : last year went well. Hopefully I can live up to it this time around.
Hyannis Half Marathon (certain) 2/27: I've raced twice in Hyannis, one half, one full, neither successful. I'm going to turn it around this time!
DRB 50K (tentative) 4/17 : did this on a lark last year after my running friends from W. Va visited. I wasn't very serious about it and dropped out after 25K. Would like to return and finish the darned thing. I just have to come to terms with the pace that goes with the terrain, and the fact that, for this particular style of race, walking != fail.
Vermont City Marathon (certain) 5/29: It took me a year to get excited about running another marathon! At last I am, and I'm going to rock the shit out of this one! Burlington VT, here I come!
Highland Sky 40M (strong tentative) 6/18: How awesome would it be to go do an epic trail run, and visit my W. Va friends, all in one trip! I'm not sure how it'll play out, but I'll have a ruddy go at it--unless after Vermont City, I think my body is just physically unready for it.
Applefest Half Marathon (tentative) 10/1: I couldn't stand it if 2010 were my last mark on this race, but I'm not quite prepared to sign up for it again. Hopefully after Hyannis I'll be filled with confidence and ready to tear it up.
Mount Desert Island Marathon 10/16 (pure speculation): A friend mentioned this to me, and I went "oh, THAT race!" I had heard about it before and been really intrigued. I mean--the race has a fjord! What more could you want! Unfortunately the field is so small that I'll probably have to sign up soon if I really want to do it--I don't know yet, so we'll have to see. (any of you readers run it before?)
To get ready for all this distance awesomeness, it's apparent to me that I need more base. Like, lots more. Through a highly non-scientific process, I have seized on 70 miles as a peak marathon training volume, which I want to do running 6 times a week, no doubling up. I think if I can do that, then that BQ marathon time will just come naturally.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Summer of Speed : retrospective
So what happened to my summer of speed! I mentioned it, then never wrote another word about it, or much of anything else. Well, in one sense it went unexpectedly well. I was able to break my old 5K pr at the Gilio 5K in May. That PR--17:35--actually came from at an away dual meet. Bloomfield, maybe? Anyway, looking back on it, I don't think all those high school XC courses were wheeled out very carefully--if I were really picky I'd probably have to give the honor to one of my old times at Wickham: 17:53, I think--but I'm not really picky; that was just a rambling aside about why some of my old PRs are the least squishy.
Writing that made me nostalgic for Wickham Park. I can practically smell that burned-grease odor that always permeated the top of the pavement hill from the nearby concessionary. I bet thousands of kids who raced there can remember the same thing.
.... Hm, right, Summer of Speed. The 5K went well. I wasn't really sure what to do next. I didn't quite feel enthusiastic about digging around for another 5K flat enough to challenge my track PR (17:08, thanks for asking). Then I ran the club handicap mile and damn near yakk'd (my own damn fault. Damn afternoon races--it's like the only race I do in the afternoon all year. I totally forget how to eat beforehand).
That pretty much takes me to the last race: the Bridgton 4 on the 4th. It always astounds me to see 1800 people all toeing the line in the middle of small-town Maine. But maybe it shouldn't surprise me--the race is well run, and the town is always hopping that time of year. The course, however, is not easy. Not trail-race hilly, of course, but still--you need to respect that first hill, and you need to be thinking about the rollers on Dugway, or they will EAT you (I am sorry to be reporting from personal experience, here).
Yesterday's rendition went over much differently. I was a bit worried at the start that I hadn't got enough water, as it was shaping up to be hot, and there was none at the line. A lot of high school kids and campers come out for this race, so there was a fair bit of horseplay and clowning around in the parking lot adjacent to the race start. I skulked around in the shade as best I could and tried not to think about being thirsty. Props to the two guys (girls?) dressed up in full-body duck suits--those things must have been wicked hot.
We were thoroughly anthemed before the RD handed over the starting pistol and set us to our marks. The shot rang and we were off. Almost immediately, a pleasant surprise. The heavy feeling in my legs disappeared, and along with it the doubtful boy-I-wish-I-had-studied-for-this-test sense that came from two pretty so-so weeks of training. I felt good. I knew I could run the flat opener much harder, but I picked my own pace and ran it confidently.
I don't remember having to think about the hills, which is always the best way to do them. Mainly I remember carrying my strength into the last mile, passing a guy, he catching up again; kicking--just a little too early!--fading off behind me as I crossed the line.
A good race, a personal CR by 20 seconds. As usual, when I finish a race with a little vim left, I have to wonder if I could have run harder. The price of running a controlled race, perhaps?
I am closing the book on my summer of speed for 2010, although it's certainly too early to write off the possibility of a 2011 edition. Now it's time to start thinking about Applefest, and then Baystate Marathon. Next calendar race: Marshfield 20K (speaking of squishy prs...)
Writing that made me nostalgic for Wickham Park. I can practically smell that burned-grease odor that always permeated the top of the pavement hill from the nearby concessionary. I bet thousands of kids who raced there can remember the same thing.
.... Hm, right, Summer of Speed. The 5K went well. I wasn't really sure what to do next. I didn't quite feel enthusiastic about digging around for another 5K flat enough to challenge my track PR (17:08, thanks for asking). Then I ran the club handicap mile and damn near yakk'd (my own damn fault. Damn afternoon races--it's like the only race I do in the afternoon all year. I totally forget how to eat beforehand).
That pretty much takes me to the last race: the Bridgton 4 on the 4th. It always astounds me to see 1800 people all toeing the line in the middle of small-town Maine. But maybe it shouldn't surprise me--the race is well run, and the town is always hopping that time of year. The course, however, is not easy. Not trail-race hilly, of course, but still--you need to respect that first hill, and you need to be thinking about the rollers on Dugway, or they will EAT you (I am sorry to be reporting from personal experience, here).
Yesterday's rendition went over much differently. I was a bit worried at the start that I hadn't got enough water, as it was shaping up to be hot, and there was none at the line. A lot of high school kids and campers come out for this race, so there was a fair bit of horseplay and clowning around in the parking lot adjacent to the race start. I skulked around in the shade as best I could and tried not to think about being thirsty. Props to the two guys (girls?) dressed up in full-body duck suits--those things must have been wicked hot.
We were thoroughly anthemed before the RD handed over the starting pistol and set us to our marks. The shot rang and we were off. Almost immediately, a pleasant surprise. The heavy feeling in my legs disappeared, and along with it the doubtful boy-I-wish-I-had-studied-for-this-test sense that came from two pretty so-so weeks of training. I felt good. I knew I could run the flat opener much harder, but I picked my own pace and ran it confidently.
I don't remember having to think about the hills, which is always the best way to do them. Mainly I remember carrying my strength into the last mile, passing a guy, he catching up again; kicking--just a little too early!--fading off behind me as I crossed the line.
A good race, a personal CR by 20 seconds. As usual, when I finish a race with a little vim left, I have to wonder if I could have run harder. The price of running a controlled race, perhaps?
I am closing the book on my summer of speed for 2010, although it's certainly too early to write off the possibility of a 2011 edition. Now it's time to start thinking about Applefest, and then Baystate Marathon. Next calendar race: Marshfield 20K (speaking of squishy prs...)
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Spectating the JJR
Immediately following the Blue Hills Foxtrot, I jumped in my car and made my way over to Dedham to spectate the James Joyce Ramble. This is a fairly big 10k that puts up enough purse to bring out some serious runners. I didn't see any Kenyans this year, but the BAA guys showed up in force.
No fancy race commentary from me. I'll just post the pictures I took. Most are rubbish, and I missed half the club. Don't ever hire me to be an event photographer.
nice shoes, twinkle toes
too much energy for mile 5
I wonder if he caught that guy in the hat...?
I noticed the guy behind Maureen, because he's wearing a MV 20M shirt from 2010, which I know Maureen also ran. A rematch, apparently? I looked up his name in the JJR results, but when I cross-referenced the MV20 results, he did not appear, so I'm guessing he either borrowed the shirt, or the number. Incidentally, if it was a rematch, Mo would have smoked him--she finished in 212th place; he faded to 827th.
one more shot of Mo.
My only approach shot of Mel was totally obliterated by some other guy. Oh well.
Mike turns the corner.
I almost totally missed Dave. (I was looking for the mask, sorry!)
ditto Michelle.
this guy is not actually in our club. Looks like you could bronze him and put him on the top of a cross country trophy, doesn't he?
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