tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33495289686603095882024-03-13T10:53:45.777-04:00Run, Théoden, RunCovering the Charlotte running scene, one stride at a time.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger381125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-46541881149541671122014-10-04T17:12:00.000-04:002014-10-04T17:12:23.130-04:00Moments can matter more than minutes in an Ironman<div dir="ltr">
I'll remember it forever, the moment I
signed up for my first Ironman. It was noon on Sept. 4, 2013, and as
soon as I clicked the "Submit Payment" button, I was overcome with a
wave of both glee and anxiety.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Seven thousand
and some odd miles away, my friend Doug was completing the same process
during a business trip in Dubai, where it was 8 p.m.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A
couple of minutes later? Ironman Chattanooga had sold out, and we
traded texts expressing how lucky we were to have both gotten in. After
all, he lived in California, and if, say, he'd gotten in and I hadn't,
this whole story would have had a much different ending. (Or there might
not even be an ending.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anyway, last Sunday --
one year and hundreds of training hours later -- we both found
ourselves in a line of about 2,300 people standing near the banks of the
Tennessee River, waiting to head out for 144.6 miles of swimming,
biking and running. Here are the moments and other assorted things that
stand out, having now had several days to decompress:</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most memorable pre-race moment:</b>
Literally just minutes before we got in the water, a Mexican fellow
named Luis Alvarez Gonzalez appeared out of nowhere and began
explaining/boasting that he had just flown by private jet from Mallorca,
Spain, where THE PREVIOUS DAY he had done the inaugural Ironman event
there. Apparently, he has done every Ironman race in the world, although
this had to have been the first one he's done while swimming with a
cycling jersey stuffed in the front of his tri shorts. When he realized
he was wearing the wrong type of jersey for water usage, he slouched
over and said, "Oh -- hahaha! What was I thinking??" We don't know
either, Luis...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most memorable moment during the swim:</b>
The 2.4-mile swim course is entirely with the current, and made for
some incredibly fast times. The top swimmer, for instance -- Barrett
Brandon of Texas -- did it in 38 minutes, 6 seconds. As a point of
comparison, the fastest swim time at the World Championships in Kona
last year was more than 10-1/2 minutes slower. At our athletes' meeting a
couple of days earlier, we were informed that someone floated the
entire course on their back in just 90 minutes. So, needless to say,
everyone was going to be fast. The course is on a section of the
Tennessee River that forms an "S" -- from the docks at the start, it
banked left, then right, then left again. Since we just had to keep the
sight buoys on our left, and since the sight buoys basically hugged
pretty close to the riverbank on the left side, it was legal to "swim
the tangents," and as a swimmer who is slow enough that floating bodies
stand a fighting chance of outpacing me, I tried to swim those tangents
to gain an advantage. OK, so, staying focused: The most memorable moment
was when I was so far away from the pack that I passed just a few yards
from a volunteer kayaker who was patrolling the perimeter of the course
-- and that kayaker was a friend from Charlotte! I yelled her name
while turning my head to breathe to my right, without breaking stroke.
About 60 seconds later, I realized I had been sighting off the wrong
landmark, and my heart sunk. Fortunately, I didn't (sink, that is),
climbing out of the water in a slow but steady 1:01:19.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Speaking of floating bodies:</b>
In what would be arguably only the second-most-disturbing post-race
revelation, Chattanooga authorities pulled the body of a 34-year-old man
from the river during Sunday's race, just downstream from the finish.
He was not a participant.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>First mistake (minor):</b> A friend had advised me a week before the race to make sure to hit the porta-potty in T1. I should have followed that advice.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most frustrating thing about the bike leg:</b> Stopped
to use the porta-potty once around Mile 47, then had to use it again
less than 20 miles later. The second time, there were only two guys in
line, but for some reason, it took four minutes to get through it. All I
could think was, "If I'd gone in T1, I wouldn't be here right now!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most surprising thing about the bike leg:</b>
I'd say, "The fact that it was 116 miles long instead of the standard
112," except we'd known for more than a month that race officials had
been forced to lengthen our ride time -- due to a Georgia church that
didn't want cyclists disrupting traffic trying to get to and from its
Sunday-morning worship. No, what was surprising was how easy the course
felt. I'd previewed it twice (once in the spring and once in the
summer), and familiarity helped. So did relatively cool air, coupled
with clouds that hid the sun. But I kept the intensity level right
around Zone 2, maybe pushing up into Zone 3 once or twice for a minute
or two at most, but never even sniffing Zone 4. Didn't truly mash the
pedals at all; never gave in to the urge to go after someone I felt
shouldn't be passing me; I'm not even sure I broke a sweat over the
course of the 6 hours, 12 minutes and 41 seconds I was on the bike. The
ultimate goal was to give up the great bike split in order to set the
table for a great run split.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>No wait, THIS was the most surprising thing about the bike leg:</b>
On the way out of Chattanooga and over the first couple dozen miles of
the bike course, I saw a smattering of athletes who were changing tires
on the side of the road. By smattering, I mean two. Three maybe? I can't
even remember, because it wasn't an epidemic. More curious were the two
just kind of dirty-/sandy-looking patches of road between Miles 20 and
30 that were coned off, with cops diverting us over into the oncoming
traffic lane. Didn't think much of those, either. Around Mile 32,
though, we touched the southernmost point on the course and made a sharp
left onto the notoriously forgiving Hog Jowl Road, which offers a
five-mile rolling descent featuring pastoral views of forests, fields
and mini-mountains to the east. Those sights were there, but the
roadside in the foreground was littered with cyclists fumbling for
quick-release levers on their wheels, digging tire levers into their
rims, connecting "fix-a-flat" canisters to valve stems, pulling tubes
from spare kits, examining Zipps for damage. I thought, "What in the
world is going on here? This can't be that common for an Ironman..." I
started to get pretty nervous, as someone riding tubulars with nothing
more than a can of Pit Stop fastened by electrical tape to my rear
bottle cages. This being a loop course, we traversed this section of
downhill again from about Mile 79 to 84ish -- again, several cyclists
were performing unexpected but necessary repairs. At one point, I had a
waking nightmare that starred me running my bike in for the last 35
miles. Fortunately, I was spared from tire problems, extending my streak
of no-flats-in-a-race to five full years. That night, I would learn
that some jackass had poured oil on Cove Road in the hopes of causing
bike wrecks, and had strewn tacks along it with the intent of wreaking
havoc on our tires. I've thought multiple times since the race how much I
wish I could be there if and when what comes around goes around.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most challenging moment, mentally:</b>
Looking at my watch after running out of T2, seeing that I'd been doing
physical activity nonstop for 7 hours and 22 minutes, and realizing
that I was heading off to run a marathon.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Second mistake (more significant):</b> I've
run more than enough marathons now (17) to know well how unwise it is
to go out too fast. My goal was a sub-4-hour marathon, and pretty much
everyone knows 9:09 is 4-hour marathon pace. So I should have been
focusing on probably 9:30 for the first mile, 9:15 for the second, then
clicking 9:05s. That's about my ability, for someone who can
consistently run marathons in the 3:20s and who on good days can deep
into the three-teens. So what do I do? First mile, 8:13; second mile,
8:33; third mile, 8:38; fourth mile, 8:48; fifth was 8:57. Reverse that
sequence and those, ideally, would have been my splits for Miles 22-26.
Oh well. That wasn't my biggest problem...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most challenging moment, physically:</b> By
the time I started the run, I had consumed about 15 gallons of Powerbar
Perform, 40 gels, 17 Powerbars, 12 Honey Stinger waffles, and a carton
of Uncrustables. Well, maybe my counting is a little off... OK... but it
was definitely a lot. And I was done. But I knew that despite all those
calories, I was running in a deficit and needed to keep fueling to have
the energy to go for another four hours. So I took another GU -- and
had to fight the urge to throw it back up. I mean, I wasn't by any means
violently ill, and I don't want to give off the impression that, "Oh, I
could have easily run sub-4 if it weren't for those stupid gels." But I
was for sure, FOR SURE struggling with the thought of continuing to
consume more fake food. I actually thought at one point that if I could
make myself throw up, I could get back on track. In addition, there's no
question: I'd gone out too fast. It was by no means hot -- not by any
measure -- but it was humid, and that was sapping my strength a bit as
well. Up to Mile 12, I hadn't walked--</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
QUICK ASIDE: <b>Third mistake (somewhat significant):</b> I should have walked through every aid station from the first one on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Most challenging moment, physically (continued):</b>
--as I was saying, I hadn't walked. Well, somewhere in Mile 12, I
walked. It was my slowest mile of the day: 10:46. I was fighting acid
reflux, and as I walked, I actually experienced some light-headedness
that was strange enough that I wondered quite seriously whether I needed
intravenous fluids. It passed. I stopped at Special Needs near the
start of the second loop, grabbed a couple slices of beef jerky, hoping
the salty-not-sweet taste would be what I was looking for -- it wasn't
(it actually tasted worse than the GUs). It started raining. I could
tell that both my feet and the insoles of my Sauconys were swelling. I
worried about blisters. Oddly, though, I never worried about not
finishing, never got that defeated feeling I've gotten in marathons when
I've bonked and considered dropping out. I was advancing slowly, and
needing walk breaks; but the walk breaks were short, and somewhere
around Mile 14 I found a feeding formula that felt fresh and satisfying:
a handful of red grapes at every aid station provided a natural
sweetness that I just wasn't getting from the GUs, and I also started
grabbing a cup of Coke at every aid station and pouring it over ice. I
can't explain how soda (which I almost never drink) tasted so much like
nectar of the gods in those moments, but it did. Around Mile 23, as we
turned onto Riverview Road with its spectacular homes and golf course
views, I was feeling human again. I looked at my watch and realized that
-- if I hustled -- I could still get in under 11 hours and 30 minutes,
still a respectable time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>And then:</b> As
we neared the end of Riverview Road and the last long climb up Barton
before the stretch run, I spotted my friend Doug up ahead. This is the
old college roommate and fraternity brother who had signed up for
Chattanooga with me more than a year ago. We've tried to make it a
tradition to do a race together every year, but for both of us, it was
our first full Ironman. So, I'm approaching quickly, and I'm sizing up
the situation. There's a part of me that wanted to finish with him, but
also a part of me that wanted a time that reflected my absolute best
effort in the race, which would have meant saying "Hey, good job!" to
him, and then "See you at the finish!" I was about 5 yards behind him at
this point. "Hey dude," I called out, and he looked over his shoulder
with a smile. "I was wondering when you'd catch me," he said. I may have
said something that suggested I might push on ahead, but Doug made it
clear he was interested in finishing together. Honestly, in the moment, I
was wishing he had said, "Do what you need to do, then cheer me in."
But for the last two miles, I got him to run as hard as he could, and he
got me to slow up as much as I could -- though he was still probably 20
feet back for much of those two miles. I really wanted those minutes,
those seconds.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>As we came down the last little hill</b>
and around the last little bend before the long finish chute, Doug
found his kick. I matched his stride and was overwhelmed by the sight of
the finish line, the thunderous crowd, the thumping music, the booming
voice of announcer Mike Reilly, all of my training flashing before my
eyes, what my family has meant through this process, what my coach has
meant through this process, all the great training partners, my
friendship with Doug. We both pumped our fists ecstatically, he raised
his arms in triumph, we crossed, I turned to him, swung my hand up to
crash into his, and he grabbed me in a powerful bear hug. It was an
unbelievably special moment: I started this journey with him, we didn't
train together, we were similarly skilled in none of the disciplines,
and yet here we had run into each other 20 minutes from the finish line
and had put a completely unexpected exclamation point on what to date
has been the most significant accomplishment in our respective careers
as triathletes. Which leads me to...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Fourth mistake (major):</b> If
I could go back to that moment on Riverview Road again, to right before
Mile 24, to the point where I closed in on Doug, I'd have declared my
desire to finish together immediately. I'd have run beside him instead
of ahead of him. I'd have completely pushed any thoughts of finishing an
extra two or three minutes faster out of my head. At my ability level
-- at MOST ability levels -- it's not the minutes that matter, it's the
moments. The memorable ones, the frustrating ones, the surprising ones
and the challenging ones. It's those moments, and how you respond to
them, that matter. The final minute of that race? The way Doug and I
crossed that finish line? Without a doubt, my happiest moment ever as an
athlete of any kind. I'll remember it forever.<br />
<br />
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Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-14171458411316066172013-12-16T14:38:00.000-05:002013-12-16T14:38:17.693-05:00What exactly IS the point of running a marathon?There are a million reasons why somebody might drop out of a marathon. OK, maybe not a million. But a lot.<br />
<br />
Many are practical: a freak injury suffered mid-race; light-headedness that zaps your concentration; extreme cramps; extreme GI distress; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyponatremia">hyponatremia</a>; dehydration; heat exhaustion. A serious runner with a serious goal might bail -- upon
realizing it's not going to be his or her day -- in order to
preserve fitness for a backup race.<br />
<br />
Poor judgment also can lead to a DNF: going out way too fast, or simply toeing the starting line without having properly trained for the distance.<br />
<br />
And of course, some runners drop out simply because... well, because dropping out is easy.<br />
<br />
Anyone who's run multiple marathons knows the feeling. A race starts to go badly. The body rebels. The mind swells with disappointment, frustration, disgust. <i>"What am I doing out here?" "My finish time is going to suck. What's the point?" "I just want to be done." "Marathons are stupid."</i><br />
<br />
The truth is, marathons ARE kind of stupid. One way to look at it is that we're paying $100-plus for the unique opportunity to run until our quads, hamstrings and calves twist themselves into pretzels, after which we walk around for the next two days like we're carrying a five-pound bag of ice between our legs.<br />
<br />
But somewhere along the way Saturday -- as I struggled through the Kiawah Island Marathon and fended off my own very strong urge to quit -- I managed to find answers to the "What's the point?" question. Those answers helped me finish the race.<br />
<br />
As most of you who <a href="https://www.facebook.com/runwiththeoden">follow me on Facebook</a> know, I had headed for Kiawah feeling extraordinarily fit, highly motivated to pursue a second Boston Marathon qualifying time, having aced virtually every workout my coach (<a href="http://fillnowcoaching.com/">Kelly Fillnow</a>) had thrown at me.<br />
<br />
I also, however, felt trepidation. Sandwiched between two very good running days, weather-wise, Saturday's forecast looked to be an anomaly: unseasonably mild and humid all morning. My average finish time for the past five marathons I've raced in cool,
dry air is 3:21. The last time I attempted 26.2 on a mild, humid day? <a href="http://obsruntheoden.blogspot.com/2012/03/tobacco-road-sometimes-when-you-lose.html">I crossed the line in 4:05</a>.<br />
<br />
It turned out to be 57 degrees and 90 percent humidity at the start Saturday; 71 degrees when I finished. Ideal for a summer marathon, perhaps, but a shock to the system in December.<br />
<br />
Now, I've decided not to bore people this time with a mile-by-mile recap, but I will point out some lowlights: Just over one-third of the way through the course, nine miles in, I was counting down backward from 100 -- a mind game I wasn't expecting to have to resort to until Mile 20 or 21.<br />
<br />
When the half-marathoners split off at Mile 12, I wanted to cry. When the 3:15 pace group passed me between 14 and 15, I wanted to scream. Any second wind I'd been hoping to grab onto eased on down the road with the chatty guy wearing the orange T-shirt and carrying his little white flag.<br />
<br />
The white flag. The white flag. Oh, how I wanted to wave one of my own, for an entirely different purpose.<br />
<br />
<i>What am I doing out here?</i>, I thought. <i>I could so easily drop out, just ask my friend who was cheering at Mile 16 if I could borrow her bike, pedal it back to the finish area. Or, hitch a ride with this volunteer passing by on the golf cart...</i><br />
<br />
But I squelched those thoughts. And in my mind, therein lies the point.<br />
<br />
Marathons things are <i>supposed </i>to be hard. They're supposed to pummel you to within an inch of your last bit of resolve. Beyond it, even. They <i>want </i>you to quit. They dangle a tantalizing carrot, and then three-quarters of the way through the race, they hide it behind their backs and are all like, "What do you mean? What carrot?"<br />
<br />
According to Athlinks, <a href="http://athlinks.com/athletes/theodenjanes/Profile">I've run 93 races</a> since the fall of 2008. I've dropped out of only two. Both were triathlons, and both were due to mechanical issues on the bike that made it impossible to continue.<br />
<br />
The urge was pretty strong Saturday. Strong enough that my mind was rehearsing what I'd say to people in the hours and days ahead. <i>"Oh, it just wasn't my day." "The humidity was killing me." "I wanted to save myself for Myrtle Beach." "I just didn't feel like running anymore."</i><br />
<br />
But they were all excuses. Easy outs. Euphemisms for <i>"I quit because I felt like quitting."</i><br />
<br />
<br />
So at Mile 20 -- with 6.2 looong miles to go -- I stopped focusing on excuses and reminded myself the value of staying out there and continuing to struggle. <i>"Kelly did the best she could to get me ready. She never gives up, and she doesn't expect her athletes to give up. I'm not giving up." "My wife and I have raised our daughter to understand that anything truly worth achieving or obtaining is difficult to achieve or obtain. What kind of example would I be setting by quitting simply because I felt like quitting?"</i> And, <i>"Will dropping out make me feel better or worse tomorrow/a week from now/a month from now?"</i><br />
<br />
That last question is key. Ask yourself this, the next time you are in the darkest of places during a race, and strive for clarity as you answer it. I think you'll come to the conclusion I did.<br />
<br />
<br />
Is there heartbreak involved? OF COURSE. While I recognize 3:28 is still a very respectable marathon time (landing me at 89th out of 897), missing a goal by so much does sting.<br />
<br />
You all can surely relate, no matter where you fall on the board. A 2:20 is an out-of-this-world marathon time... unless you're an elite male trying to win Chicago. If 4:30 is your fastest time, and you're trying to go faster, 5:00 is going to be irritating no matter what your friend with the 5:30 PR says to try to cheer you up.<br />
<br />
I finished the race, though, while 62 other runners who started the Kiawah Island Marathon did not, for one reason or another. I suspect that in time, I'll be as proud of this marathon as I am all of my others.<br />
<br />
Revered running coach <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_Pfitzinger">Pete Pfitzinger</a> once wrote: "The marathon is a test of endurance. If you casually drop out of a marathon once, it will be all too easy to drop out again, as it legitimizes that option when things get tough."<br />
<br />
I can't yet say I'm a 2015 Boston Marathon qualifier. But I <i>can </i>say that when things got tough on Saturday, so did I. <br />
<br />
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Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-33265804729754213472013-08-25T21:28:00.001-04:002013-08-25T21:28:31.326-04:00I DNF'd, and the reason why will surprise you<br />
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The story of my Santa Barbara Long Course Triathlon experience is a story that accentuates my stupidity, my ignorance, and my lack of attention to detail.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In Act 1, I make a reasonably big mistake. In Act 2, I make what appears to be a grave error in judgment. I am able to turn things around in Act 3. But stay on your toes: There's a twist ending in this one that rivals "The Sixth Sense."</div>
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Anyway, here goes.</div>
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I signed up for this race four months ago, and it was planned as part of a reunion with a college friend who lives in Southern California and has recently gotten very absorbed in triathlon. We chose Santa Barbara because of the anticipated beautiful setting and the unique distances -- 1-mile swim, 34-mile bike, 10-mile run. It was a race that would mark several firsts for me: First time doing a triathlon outside of North Carolina, first time doing a race with an ocean swim, and the first time traveling with my bike.</div>
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It took some time to figure out the bike situation. (Tri Bike Transport and similar services sadly were not an option for this race.) I originally had decided, after talking to Melissa Bell at Inside Out Sports, that I would pack and ship my P2. Renting was an early option, but we decided 34 miles was just long enough that it was worth the hassle of shipping.</div>
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Unfortunately, it was a slow option, and would require me to be without my bike for at least a week before and after the race. So after further waffling -- and further discussions with Kelly Fillnow (my coach) and Melissa Bell -- I decided to fly with my bike instead. Inside Out Sports would take apart and pack my Cervelo in a Trico Iron Case, and I'd pay United Airlines' fee for bikes: $100 each way. I'd be responsible for rebuilding it in California and then repacking it after the race.</div>
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So, the first error: The flight was booked through United, but the flight was operated by US Airways. But I didn't give that little detail a second thought for all those months and weeks before the race, didn't consider it as I loaded it onto the shuttle at the long-term parking lot at the Charlotte airport, didn't think about it as I wheeled it up to the check-in counter. So, imagine my surprise when the agent told me it would be a whopping $200 each way to travel with the bike case.</div>
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I asked if there was anything they could do, they said sorry, no. I wheeled the case down to United and asked them if there was anything they could do; they said sorry, no. The lesson here, of course, is read the fine print, think it through logically, then confirm, confirm, confirm.</div>
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All that planning, and a stupid assumption had tripped me up. Badly. I mean, $200 round trip for my bike seemed reasonable. $400 seemed laughable. $400 for 34 miles on my bike, plus putting it at risk of loss or damage, plus the hassle of having to play bike mechanic in California, especial given the fact that I'm a horrible bike mechanic. (More on that later.)</div>
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Needing some counsel/reassurance, I called James Haycraft at Inside Out Sports (my most trusted source for tri and bike advice); he recommended renting. So I hopped back onto a parking shuttle and stashed the case back in my trunk.</div>
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Meanwhile, my friend Doug -- the college friend I was doing the race with -- made some calls and reserved a Cannondale Slice for me at Nytro in Encinitas. $150 for two days. Done. I was off to Orange County.</div>
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Once there, I learned Doug had connected with a guy in his tri club who had a Felt S22 that he no longer used, and was offering it up as a loaner to me. Free to me sounded even better than $150, so we went for it. We met up with him, it looked decent, he was 5-6 and since I'm 5-7, I figured size-wise it would be easy to tweak. The frame was not carbon and the wheelset was not aero (the P2 back in my trunk in Charlotte had sweet Zipps on it courtesy of Inside Out Sports), but it appeared to be fine. The only thing that stood out to me was the fact that there was only one pair of holes to attach a bottle cage, and it was on the seat tube not the down tube -- high enough up that it was a little awkward to get a standard size bottle out of it while riding. The guy also said he'd had bad luck with flats on the tires, and gave us a set of Continentals to swap on.</div>
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I thanked him in the form of a $50 Amazon gift card, we stuck the bike on Doug's hitch rack, and took off.</div>
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When we got back to Doug's house, I went for a very short spin on it, and it was clear the seatpost was set too high for me. I was surprised, since the owner of it was a bit shorter. We lowered it. Still too high. Lowered it some more. Still too high. Bottomed it out to where the post starts widening to prevent it from being lowered any further. Still just a bit too high, I felt. But I'd survive.</div>
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The next morning, we swapped out those tires. Since I barely know how to change a tire, Doug did most of the work, though I helped with the back wheel and was able to get it both off and then back on the chain myself.</div>
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On the way out of The OC, we stopped by a bike shop, and an employee there confirmed that he could not get the saddle any lower and that I was indeed maybe 1 cm too high.</div>
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At this point, I was beginning to suspect the cosmic forces of the universe were trying to tell me something...</div>
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Fast-forward to that evening, when me, Doug, and another college buddy of ours, Ryan, went out to ride the 10-mile run course. From the get-go, the S22 just did not feel right. It felt heavy, it felt sluggish, it felt like I was working hard but not going as fast as I always do on my P2. The boys seemed to be easily gapping me, Doug on his P2 and Ryan on his P5. This coupled with the seatpost issue was discouraging me and making me miss my bike. We got back to the hotel and I told them the bike felt heavy, and told them I was changing my expectations, especially after the three of us having driven the at-points-very-hilly bike course earlier in the day.</div>
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I was starting to wish I had paid the $400.</div>
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OK, race morning. Swim was slow but solid for me, and I got through T1 fast. Jumped on the bike, and set out. And immediately, it did not feel right. I was pedaling hard, and it felt like I was pedaling through mud. People were passing me like I was standing still. I didn't pass a single person. In most tris, I find that on the bike, I pass about 3 people for every 2 that pass me. I knew this wasn't right. But here I was, wearing an aero helmet and getting mopped up in the first 3 miles. By the time my Garmin buzzed with the first 5-mile split, I had already started thinking DNF. But the statistic was beyond abhorrent. 20 minutes and change, which I'd later discover was a 14.7 mph average.</div>
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I pulled over to the side of the road, and didn't really know what to do. I pretended to look at my bike, but being a terrible bike mechanic, I didn't really know what to look for. I weighed my options. I could carry on and just get through it and then try to get something done on the run, but I was pretty sure that I'd have nothing left, as the pedaling I had done already was difficult. And major hills awaited me, some slightly technical. Finally, after about 5 minutes, I happened to look at the rear brake pad. It appeared to be flush on the rim.</div>
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I'd basically been riding with the brakes on the entire time! I tried to tweak them without tools by re-centering them, and I also flipped up the lever normally used to open up the brakes to get the wheel off. That seemed to help. Hopped back on, started moving forward again. We turned right and headed up the first big climb of the day, and I passed about eight or 10 people without being passed. Got to the top and flew down. But as soon as I had to tap the brakes, they started rubbing again. 7-1/2 miles in, I hopped off again and got the bike tool out to try to make some adjustments. The critical Allen wrench screw I needed to loosen to open up the brakes more? Stripped.</div>
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I was done.</div>
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On the way back, the gears started skipping, too.</div>
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I should have rented that Slice, I thought. Or should have just sucked it up and paid the $400. Both of those things were easy to say now.</div>
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But I also was already thinking about how to make the day good, how to turn things around and get something positive out of all this. My race was over, but I knew I had an opportunity to help make my friends' better. I looked at my watch and realized I'd need to hustle to make sure I caught speedy Ryan coming into T2. Got there about 10-15 minutes before him. He was bewildered when I greeted him coming out of the run exit, but I filled him in quickly then worked on helping him keep pace around 7:15-7:20.</div>
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It was an out-and-back course, so at about Mile 6, we ran into Doug (who was at about Mile 4). Doug looked even more confused than Ryan had. I told him I was going to run him in, and yelled good luck to Ryan.</div>
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Everything about the run experience was fantastic. The weather was perfect, the ocean views were spectacular, the company was awesome. I played the rabbit role as well as I could for Ryan, and I prodded Doug as he felt a fade coming on in the final miles. Ryan, who'd done Santa Barbara the previous two years, wound up PRing the run course by 3 minutes; Doug said afterward that he never would have finished so fast without me. Both of these things made me feel great, and I sensed that the whole bike mess was a blessing: If I hadn't had so many problems, if I hadn't dropped out of the race, I never would have gotten the opportunity to run with these friends I hadn't seen in so long. Being able to help motivate others and help friends reach their goals is super-satisfying to me, and despite the day's frustrations, I loved every step of the run.</div>
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After I crossed the line with Doug, I declined the medal. (In hindsight, I should have taken it and given it to the nearest small child.)</div>
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Back in the transition area, I showed them the bike and upon spinning the rear wheel to prove it, realized that the tire actually had been rubbing against the frame itself, not the brake pad. The wheel was lopsided!</div>
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Oh well. Obviously -- OBVIOUSLY -- I was not meant to ride that race. It felt a little "Final Destination"-ish.</div>
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That afternoon, driving back to Orange County, we joked about asking for the Amazon gift card back, but also I wondered how he'd missed these issues with his bike.</div>
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That night, while removing the bottle cage I'd mounted on his aero bars, I spun the wheel one more time. It barely spun at all. Then Doug noticed something: The wheel itself had been mounted incorrectly.</div>
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It was like the moment when you realized Kevin Spacey was Keyser Soze. It all became clear. Everything.</div>
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After we'd changed the back tire, somehow, someway -- even though I've changed back tires before on my own bike -- I hadn't gotten it so the skewer was sitting flush in the frame, and had tightened it so the wheel was slightly off-center. As the problem seemed to worsen from the night of our test ride to race morning, and also over the course of the 14 miles I did ride that day, it apparently had gotten more lopsided over time, increasing the resistance when pedaling.</div>
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Thinking back on it as I fly home to Charlotte, I believe it might have been the universe telling me that I had bitten off more than I could chew by planning to try to rebuild my Cervelo on my own for the race. Even with Doug's help, what if I'd missed something critical that caused a wreck?</div>
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After we realized the cause of the problem, Doug looked at me, grinned, and said, "We won't tell anyone about this."</div>
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<br /></div>
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He's a good man for saying that, but the fact is, it's a great lesson. I know it's a moronic mistake and I understand that it's worth a laugh at my expense. I'm OK with that. I think bonehead moves make great stories.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The lesson, though, is this: Be careful. Pay attention to detail. Check your own work. Then have someone else check your work for you. (I should have used the free bike check at the race expo.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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Oh, and do not fly US Airways if you want to fly with your bike.</div>
Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-76822885754391946542013-04-22T12:16:00.000-04:002013-04-22T12:16:07.765-04:00From tragedy, runner emerges with new resolve<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95g3NdNU7UE/UXVgrpLwGBI/AAAAAAAACdo/e2UJ2AP5IDM/s1600/729950-1056-0039s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95g3NdNU7UE/UXVgrpLwGBI/AAAAAAAACdo/e2UJ2AP5IDM/s320/729950-1056-0039s.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Demi Clark, 1/4-mile from the finish last Monday</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>The following column was written by Demi Clark, 36, of Fort Mill. According to at least one photograph, the timing clock read 4 hours, 9 minutes and 44 seconds when the first bomb was detonated at the Boston Marathon last Monday. Clark's official gun time for the race: 4 hours, 9 minutes and 46 seconds.</i><br />
<br />It's Sunday night. I just tucked my kids into bed, almost identically to the way I have every night of their short first- and third-grade lives. Kisses, plus a hug, and an "I love you." The only addition -- which has been part of the routine since Monday, April 15 -- "Do you all feel safe tonight? Mommy and Daddy are here if you need us."<br />
<br />My husband and I not only consider ourselves lucky to ask that question every night, we are downright grateful and blessed to do so. The parents of precious 8-year-old Martin Richard can't do that anymore. The parents of Krystle Campbell and Lü Lingzi can no longer call their children and ask, "Do you feel safe tonight?" And countless families are still in the hospital, supporting loved who are in critical condition, or without limbs, who face long, long roads ahead. That's thanks to two terrorists, who have changed the world as all of us know it.<br /><br />I happened to be "that girl with the pigtails" who was 10 feet from the finish line of the Boston Marathon as the first bomb exploded and we found ourselves in a war. I say "war," because I'm also a health coach. I have clients who are soldiers currently downrange in Afghanistan; they called me later, saying we all earned our "combat stress" badge that day. The sights, sounds, smells, and horror are all still very fresh in my memory. Yet I NEVER want to forget. If we forget, we can't change the future for the better.<br />
<br />
I also coach Girls on the
Run, and nothing is more rewarding than seeing those 9- to 11-year-olds
happy, healthy, active. Their actions and their attitudes inspire others to get
off their iPads and move. They help make the world a happier, healthier place. <br />
<br />
Happy, healthy people don't place handmade bombs
next to 8-year-old children, knowing the immense destruction that
will follow. Happy, healthy people do things like participate in the Boston Marathon; happy, healthy people have raised $127.9 million since the Boston Marathon Charity Program started in 1989.<br />
<br />
So, today is not the day to scream at the guy who cuts you off in traffic.
It's not the day to eat a can of frosting because you can start eating healthy tomorrow. (I had an eating disorder for two
decades -- trust me, it won't make you feel better.) It's not the day to
ignore your mom. Or your children. It's not the day to work late -- for
the 100th day in a row. <br />
<br />It IS the day to pay it forward. Take your dog for an extra-long walk. Buy your
neighbor a Starbucks. Lace up your shoes for the first (or one-thousand and
fifty-first) time. Our lives have a true purpose. Honor yours by being good to yourself,
taking care of your body, and being HAPPY and HEALTHY. Runners have a
"runner's high" for a reason -- those endorphins are scientifically
proven to make us happier. Runners truly love what they do. I haven't met too
many angry ones. Runners wanting to be faster? Yes. Angry? No. <br />
<br />
In coaching, we have a saying: "So what? Now what?" I've asked myself that a million times in the past week. What are the odds of me being right there at that horrific moment (with my family right there in the finish-line bleachers), with 26,999 other runners ahead of or behind me? Why was I spared, without so much as a scratch on my body? I will never know the answer. But what I do know is that I'm still here -- and now, I feel this overwhelming need to inspire people.<br />
<br />
My goal then, from here on out, is to motivate as many people as possible to get off the couch. I want to urge everyone to draw up a vision board, to decide on a goal, then to make it happen. I have a quote from Homer on my home-office desk that says, "Go forth confidently in the direction of your dreams!" It has served as my internal compass for years. Find yours. Faith over fear, life worth not net worth -- whatever your quote, pick something that puts the fire in your belly to be better, and go do it. Let's get each other off the couch. It's OUR time to win.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ur6ATH_ldM/UXVgDlIap1I/AAAAAAAACdg/dF8kWJQMUcE/s1600/Maizie+and+Willa+at+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ur6ATH_ldM/UXVgDlIap1I/AAAAAAAACdg/dF8kWJQMUcE/s320/Maizie+and+Willa+at+Finish.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Demi Clark's daughters, waiting for mom at the finish line</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-8844886662666354902013-02-22T11:02:00.000-05:002013-02-22T11:03:08.312-05:00How I qualified for the Boston MarathonSo there I was, at Mile 22 of the Myrtle Beach Marathon. I'm passing the timing clock that's set up next to the mile marker, and I'm doing math. Generally, I'm horrible at math -- flunked out of it in college -- but I've done enough time-based calculations as a Garmin-obsessed runner that this much is clear: If I don't push through, if I start falling off the pace too much, it ain't happenin' today.<br />
<br />
If you've run a marathon (and have had a time goal in that marathon), you've been here. It's decision time. It's make-or-break time. It's the time to ask, "Do I feel like suffering today, or not?"<br />
<br />
I've certainly run marathons where the answer has been "HAHAHAHAHAHA! No." But today? Today, I wasn't taking no for an answer. I'd come too far. It wasn't so much the 22 miles I'd covered in the previous 160+ minutes. Rather, it was the long, hard months of training. The early mornings. The "Honey, I'll be late for dinners." The two- and three-shower days. The screaming legs. The burning lungs. All of it.<br />
<br />
I haven't come this far or worked this hard, I told myself, to miss my goal by 30 seconds and endure all the "Oh, man, you were so close! Great try" pats on the back for the next two weeks.<br />
<br />
Down went my head, narrow went my eyes. This <i>was</i> happenin' today.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
___</div>
<br />
We talk about goal-setting all the
time as runners, and how goals provide motivation during training, how
they act as a metaphorical carrot on the end of a metaphorical stick.<br />
<br />
What
separates Boston from other goals -- from breaking 30 minutes in a 5K to
running 100 miles in a 24-hour race -- is that it <i>leads</i> somewhere. To a
place. Break 30 minutes in a 5K and your husband might bake you a cake.
Qualify for the Boston Marathon, and you have a plane ticket to buy and a hotel room
to book.<br />
<br />
But Boston means different things to different runners. Plenty of slower runners will never qualify, and might be jealous of people who do. (At the same time, many of those folks who will never qualify also couldn't care less.) On the other end of the spectrum are the fastest among us, gazelles who could run a qualifying time while pushing a shopping cart; for them, fretting about Boston would be like a millionaire coveting his buddy's new Toyota.<br />
<br />
Then there are runners on the cusp. Fit, but not phenomenally so. Fast, but not freakish. Runners like me. In 2011, I gave it a shot, needing a sub-3:10 and falling more than three minutes short. I waited almost 16 months to try again.<br />
<br />
Both in 2011 and this time around, while preparing for Myrtle Beach, I was coached by Kelly Fillnow -- a friend who also happens to be a professional triathlete sponsored by Timex. Her marathon training plans focus on quality miles instead of large quantities of miles, fierce intensity on hard days and true recovery on easy ones, as well as a significant amount of strength work -- core, legs, and upper body, too. Lot of workout variety, lot of goal-pace miles, some cross-training added to further mix things up.<br />
<br />
This time around, since I turn 40 in September and would be 40 at Boston 2014, I had an extra five minutes to work with. But instead of training for a sub-3:15, I trained for a sub-3:10; doing so was, without a doubt, a huge key to my success. Hang on, and I'll explain.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
___</div>
<br />
Once you make it through a successful training cycle and you've reached the taper feeling healthy and strong, the last remaining unknown (excuse?) is always the weather. Watching the forecast over the two weeks leading up to this one was like watching "The Walking Dead" -- full of suspense, and sometimes you were afraid to even look. The night before, the AccuWeather app for my iPhone was even showing possible scattered showers in the morning.<br />
<br />
So it was a surprise to be able to see stars in the sky while walking to the start on Saturday morning, a surprise to see the sun come up during the first few miles of the race, and a truly great surprise that -- despite concerns the sun's presence might sap energy -- there wasn't a single moment in the race where I felt too warm. Or too cold. It was perfect. Weather-wise.<br />
<br />
Legs-wise, it took me a long time to get comfortable. When I run marathons, I often do battle with shin splints during the first few miles. This almost never happens during training runs or workouts, and generally -- using my wisdom as an armchair exercise and sports scientist -- I attribute it to the fact that do no warmup before marathon. But this time, I had more trouble shaking the pain than usual.<br />
<br />
My goal going in was to start slow: 7:40 the first mile, 7:30 the second, 7:20 the third, then get to 7:15 (goal pace). My actual was: 7:39, 7:29, 7:27, 7:27. I couldn't get comfortable. My shins were hurting. On top of that, my calves, hamstrings and quads -- OK, my entire legs -- just felt tight and generally crappy. Miles 5 and 6 were both 7:29, and at that point, I made a clear and conscious decision to adjust my game plan. 7:15 splits were out the window, at least the time being. Let's work through this stuff with your legs, I told myself. Let's stay relaxed. 7:26 pace will get you under 3:15; we can work with this. It was way early to be starting to lean on mantras, but I did it anyway. "Trust your training. Trust your training. Trust your training. Trust your training." I must have said it 300 times between Miles 7 and 10 ... and somewhere in there, my legs (shins included) started behaving.<br />
<br />
The second segment of the race -- Miles 10 through 20 -- definitely were my most confident. My splits started trending down into the 7-teens, my breathing became less labored, there was more fluidity in my leg muscles, and my headspace was just cooler and calmer.<br />
<br />
I hit the halfway point at 1:37:52, and took a gut check. Yeah, I was feeling good. Not great, but certainly way better than I'd been feeling half an hour earlier. Yet I couldn't see the end of the race, and it was frustrating. What I mean by that is ... well, let's put it this way: I worked so hard to visualize a positive outcome, and to think positive thoughts, and to stay in a positive frame of mind. But unless you're a machine, it's very hard to push ALL negative thoughts out of your head. And during the first 20 miles at Myrtle, every time I tried to visualize how I'd feel or where I'd be in the last 6.2, I was getting the equivalent of bad radio reception. It was just fuzz. Inky-black. Instead of a blank spot in my past, I had like this blank spot in my future.<br />
<br />
So I started with another mantra, mixed in with the first one. This time, it was "Embrace the pain. Embrace the pain. Embrace the pain." Kelly had told me before the race, "Each mile, just keep believing in yourself, and know that the pain is going to be there. Your body can endure so much more than you think it can. When it gets tough, just tell yourself, 'Pain is my friend.' Make friends with pain, admit he is there, and then know that you can overcome the pain. Pain is a temporary state." I know, I know. It sounds like a line. But I was buying it. Mile 16, I was like, BRING IT. My split for Mile 16 was 7:15. It would turn out to be my fastest mile of the day, the only mile I hit what is the goal pace for a 3:10 marathon. It was the most familiar mile I ran all morning. (More on this soon, I promise.)<br />
<br />
7:21, 7:22, 7:20, 7:18, 7:18, 7:24, and suddenly, here I am at Mile 22 of the Myrtle Beach Marathon. There's that timing clock next to the mile marker. There's me doing math, and I suck at math. It's decision time. That fuzzy, inky-black blank spot is starting to come into focus, and I'm all of a sudden, I just said "F--- this." Those two words would become the mantra that got me to a Boston qualifying time. It's crude, I know. It's a crutch to use profanity, I know. But I also know that sometimes I need to get mad to get motivated. I was just ready to be done. To get this done. To reap the rewards of all those long, hard training runs. Literally, the next 31-32 minutes would validate (or not) months of training, and serve as the difference between "Congratulations, you did it!" and "Aww... well, congratulations, that's still a great time!" I kept hearing the latter statement over and over and over and over again in my head. And once again, I was like "F--- this." Ain't nobody got time for that.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
___</div>
<br />
The last mile was a victory lap. On the corner before turning into the long chute near Pelicans Ballpark, where the finish line is, I spotted my wife and daughter. They raced along with me, on the other side of the netting, until I made the final turn and could make out the clock. That was my favorite part of the whole race. I crossed the timing mat and hit my watch right at 3:14:13 (which would match precisely my official chip time), pumping my fist a couple times.<br />
<br />
I haven't cried in years, and there's really no good reason to cry over a silly running race, but I can't deny I got a little choked up after this one. It wasn't elation, I don't think. I hadn't fulfilled a lifelong dream. I merely set a tough (for me) goal, worked hard to put myself in a position to achieve it, then went out and got it done. So I don't know. I think it was a mixture of pride and relief. Pride because not everybody can do what I did; relief because now that I've done it, it's a badge I can always wear even if I never want to pursue that goal again. I didn't weep, but in an emotional sense it was really very overwhelming. I wasn't expecting it.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
___ </div>
<br />
I really have no doubt that the quest to qualify for the Boston Marathon has turned many otherwise average runners into very good runners, because they become so driven to achieve a goal that -- for better or worse -- says something significant about a runner's prowess. The mere existence of the Boston Marathon makes the running community faster than it might otherwise be.<br />
<br />
With that in mind, I leave you with this: Set big goals. Huge ones. Test your limits. You're thinking, Ugh, what a cliche, right? But as Kelly said, your body can endure so much more than you think it can. For example, say someone's got a marathon PR of 4:10, and they decide they want to break four hours. What do most people do? They train to run a 3:59. Right? So they get out there, and they run a 3:58, and they're ecstatic. Wait a second, though. What if that same runner had instead trained for a 3:50? Maybe they're not a 3:50 marathoner, but maybe the extra push puts them in such good shape that they go out and run a 3:54. I'm admittedly bad at math, but even I know 3:54 is four minutes faster than a 3:58. And they've found what, for now, is their limit, instead of doing "just enough" to hit their goal.<br />
<br />
Now, I realize this is just a theory. But I've tested it. In 2011, my other BQ attempt, I trained for sub-3:10 and ran a 3:13. This time around, my qualifying mark was 3:15, but I again decided to train for sub-3:10. All my goal pace work was at 7:15/mile, and I went into race day planning on getting after a sub-3:10. So the truth of the matter here is that I missed my goal of sub-3:10, but still ran as fast as I possibly could, on as flat a course as there is, in as perfect weather as I could have asked for. I believe the limits of my ability today are a 3:14 marathon.<br />
<br />
If I had trained to run 3:15, if my goal pace work had all been at 7:26/mile, then I'd gone in feeling "off" and was slower than that by 10-15 seconds per mile for the first 10 miles ... all I can say is that conversation I had with myself out there at Mile 22 on Saturday would have gone a bit differently.Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-897446175552186142012-10-29T20:48:00.001-04:002012-10-30T06:58:39.197-04:00R2B, easy as 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 ... 22-23-24-25-26-.2I’ve been thinking a lot lately about “easy” races versus “hard” races, and I’ve come to a conclusion: “Easy” is a relative term.<br />
<br />
It’s easy, for instance, to say that the Chicago Marathon is “easier” than the San Francisco Marathon, since Chicago is so flat and San Francisco is so hilly. It’s also easy to say the Ridge to Bridge Marathon – which I ran on Saturday, for the third time in as many years – is “easier” than Chicago, since there’s a big drop in elevation at R2B and Chicago is merely flat.<br />
<br />
What’s not easy, pretty much any way you slice it, is <i>running a marathon</i>.<br />
<br />
I’ve now run 12. I’ve run them up and down mountains (R2B, New River), I’ve run them next to oceans (Virginia Beach, San Diego), I’ve run them in cities (NYC, Charlotte’s Thunder Road), I’ve run them in the woods (Tobacco Road). None of them has been easy. All of them have been run under different circumstances.<br />
<br />
The circumstances I faced on Saturday were … let’s see … covering an event for the newspaper Friday night, not going to bed till 12:30 a.m., not getting to sleep till 1:30 a.m., waking up at 4:30 a.m., driving 100 miles to get to the start. And there was a bigger issue, too. I’d spent more than five months training for a half iron triathlon, then less than five weeks trying to get ready for Ridge to Bridge.<br />
<br />
Here’s the thing, though, and there’s no way around this one: Marathons don’t care about your excuses. They don’t care if you slept badly, or had the wrong meal, or didn’t get in enough good long runs, or that it’s too windy or too sunny or too rainy.<br />
<br />
They just don’t. When I got to the starting line last weekend, it was just me and whatever fitness I had. Nothing more, nothing less.<br />
<br />
I’d run 3:26 here in 2010, 3:13 here in 2011. I knew sub-3:13 was a fantasy, so the goal simply was to fall somewhere in between those two marks. I honest to goodness had no pacing plan whatsoever. I would basically run on feel.<br />
<br />
Ridge to Bridge is billed as a downhill marathon, but as I’ve said in previous reports about this race, the course is more challenging than it sounds. You start on an asphalt road about a pitching wedge away from an appropriately named Marathon gas station in Jonas Ridge, N.C. (elevation: 3,800 feet, give or take), with the first 5.5 miles described as rolling at best and frustratingly hilly at worst.<br />
<br />
“Isn’t this supposed to be a downhill marathon?” is a commonly overheard refrain during this leg of the race.<br />
<br />
My first six splits were 7:52, 7:38, 7:34, 7:39, 7:45 and 7:44. I still was trying to get settled. I knew the downhill miles would be fast, but I also knew I had only run 20 miles once since March, and I believe I stopped to rest three times during that particular long run earlier this month. So every time I tried to visualize Miles 20 through 26.2 in my head, I just saw fog and a giant question mark.<br />
<br />
The downhill miles were about what I expected, I guess – 7:13, 7:16, 7:09, 7:19, 7:06, 7:12, 7:21, 7:12 – and here I would just like to note once again for the record that there are three <i>uphill</i> portions of the “downhill” section – and one is particularly lengthy (this has unpleasantly surprised many a first-timer). Because I had been somewhat conservative up top, I managed to pass a bunch of people going down, which always feels good.<br />
<br />
Shortly after Mile 14, you reach the end of the forest service road and the course flattens out. This is the point at which this marathon stops being a downhill marathon and starts to exploit any of your weaknesses, starts to toy with any of your insecurities, starts to present itself as a potential dream-crusher.<br />
<br />
Immediately after coming off the forest service road, you do a roughly one-mile out-and-back (turnaround is at about 15.5 miles in), during which you get a chance to see where you are in relation to others in your wheelhouse.<br />
<br />
I went 7:26 then 7:26 in this section. I saw my friends Chuck Player and Rob Ducsay were a fair bit ahead of me, cruising to what they hoped would be about a 3:10; I saw my friends Ed Morse and Joel Thomas – both of whom have run sub-3:20 here – a little ways behind me, Ed maybe on 3:25 pace and Joel maybe around 3:30; I saw my friends Wen Norvell and Erin Osetek, also probably in the 3:30 range.<br />
<br />
Faces tell you almost nothing at this point. It’s Mile 15, Mile 16. You’re not typically going to see many cracks in the foundation yet.<br />
<br />
If <i>you’re</i> the foundation, though, you can certainly <i>feel</i> them forming. And for me, they were coming on in the form of calf cramps. I was able to stave them off for several progressively slower miles (7:31 for Mile 17, 7:44, 7:43, 8:02, 7:56 for Mile 21). I struggled past Chuck, who was walking. I struggled past Rob, who was walking.<br />
<br />
In the 22nd mile, it became less of a cramping issue for me and more of a I-wasn’t-totally-ready-for-this-was-I? issue. 8:19. 8:29 for Mile 23. By 24, <i>I</i> was the one walking, as a few others struggled past <i>me</i>.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I’ve done a lot of marathons in a relatively short period of time, and I do realize that even if you’re done, physically, you can convince your mind to tell your body to run. It’s basic math. Even a fast walk is 16 or so minutes a mile … while a slow run (in my case) is 9:00ish. A full bottle of water is worth running for. A Mountain is worth running for. Pizza? Worth running for.<br />
<br />
I did what I could to stay moving: I walked for about 2 minutes after passing the Mile 23 marker, then jogged. 9:38. Walked for about 2 minutes after passing the Mile 25 marker, then jogged. 9:27. Walked for maybe just a minute in the final mile. 9:09.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the calf cramps came back with a vengeance in the final 500 yards or so, making for an ugly finish. It’s always fun when you stop dead in your tracks in front of a crowd of people 100 feet from the finish line of a marathon, and one of them shouts, “Come on, don’t stop, you are almost there!” … as an unseen force twists your muscle fibers into a painful pretzel. “I’m cramping, guys – I’d run if I could.” At the same time, I’m reminding myself that marathons don’t care about my excuses, and neither do these people.<br />
<br />
Anyway, keep an eye out for my finish-line photos sometime in the near future. They will probably look like they belong in some sort of anti-marathon PSA.<br />
<br />
Finish time: 3:23:32. I’ll take it! Within the range of what I wanted to do. Third-best marathon time ever, despite the fade in the last 10K. Satisfactory, time-wise. Hard-fought, mostly.<br />
<br />
Which brings us back to “easy” races versus “hard” races.<br />
<br />
It’s easy to look at someone like my friend Mike Schreder – who ran a 3:47 at Myrtle Beach last February and then PR’d by 16 minutes Saturday – and say, <i>Well of course he PR’d by 16 minutes. He ran downhill for 9 miles!</i> Or Erin Osetek and Wen Norvell, who both BQ’d by several minutes Saturday after coming up short in several other attempts.<br />
<br />
Then you look at Ed Morse, a four-time Boston Marathoner, who finished in 3:31 after running 3:17 here last year. Or Joel Thomas, who ran a 3:17 at R2B in 2010 but dropped out at Mile 20 Saturday. You could argue that they were both undertrained – and in fact, both had admitted to being just that going in.<br />
<br />
But how about Chuck Player? 3:23 here last year. In better shape this year. 3:42 Saturday.<br />
<br />
Rob Ducsay: 3:19 last fall at Savannah. Very tough hombre, fearless runner. 3:42 Saturday.<br />
<br />
I’m not trying to pick on these guys. I’m just trying to underscore the fact that “easy” is relative. In fact, I’d like to think that all four of them – and pretty much anyone else who ran it this weekend, fast or slow – would join me in saying, “If you think Ridge to Bridge is so easy, you’re welcome to give it a shot and let me know how easy you think it is.”<br />
<br />
All this is not to say there aren’t races that are clearly more difficult than others. Times are inevitably going to be much slower at, say, the Pike’s Peak Marathon than they are at something like Ridge to Bridge. And yes, if you run Ridge to Bridge exactly right, you can bring home a substantial PR.<br />
<br />
But in almost every other way, Ridge to Bridge like any other 26.2-mile race. You have to be in peak physical shape. You can’t go out too fast. You need to fuel and hydrate consistently and properly. You must to find a way to dig deep starting at Mile 18, even deeper at 20, then all the way into your soul at Mile 23.<br />
<br />
And really, the way I see it is this: If a marathon were truly <i>easy</i>, would any of us who call ourselves marathoners <i>truly</i> be interested in running it?Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-72406866038185111792012-09-25T17:06:00.001-04:002012-09-25T17:06:22.488-04:00Do 70.3 candles fit on a cake?When I first decided to tackle the half iron distance, last winter, I was pretty set on Ironman 70.3 Augusta.<br />
<br />
For a few reasons. 1. It was an official Ironman event, and there's of course an element of cachet (or at least the perception of one) that goes along with competing in WTC events. 2. Several friends have done it, so plenty of intel on the course was readily available. 3. Several friends were doing it again this year. 4. The swim is aided by a current that has become legendary. ("You can drop an empty potato chip bag into the water at the start and it will cross the finish line in 30 minutes" is one of the whoppers I'd heard.)<br />
<br />
But I kept balking at the $275 price tag; plus, the race was eight months away, and ... oh, come on, I know I'm not the only commitment-phobe out there.<br />
<br />
Anyway, as I waffled, FS Series -- the company behind the great Tobacco Road Marathon in Cary -- announced in the spring that it would host a brand-new half iron distance race, set for Sept. 23. After a bit of back and forth with myself and some advice from knowledgeable triathlete friends, I took the gamble, opting for a race that would be lucky to draw 250 participants (whereas Augusta brings in 2,500).<br />
<br />
For a few reasons. 1. The FS race was cheaper. Way cheaper. Entry fee was announced as $100 (which was only $20 more than the last sprint I did). 2. It was at Jordan Lake, west of Cary, so it'd be a shorter drive from Charlotte. 3. It happened to fall on my birthday.<br />
<br />
No. 3 sealed the deal.<br />
<br />
Training started in April. As many of you know, my coach is <a href="http://www.kellyfillnow.com/KB/Welcome.html">Kelly Fillnow</a>, who -- as many of you know -- I think is one of the most amazing friends, mentors and role models anyone could possibly hope to have. I won't spend more time trying to convince you of that; I'll just say she laid out a six-month training plan that inspired me, pushed me to (and beyond) my physical limits, and ultimately got me to race day feeling wonderfully fit and injury-free. It's a gift to have her in my corner.<br />
<br />
Speaking of gifts, I received them in many forms on my 39th birthday this past Sunday, during the inaugural Finish Strong Half Iron Triathlon at Jordan Lake.<br />
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Gift No. 1: A new tri kit from the boys at <a href="http://www.revicigear.com/">{re}vici</a>, virtually hot off the presses (as we in the newspaper biz like to say). I know the rule is "nothing new on race day," but I took a risk and had zero issues with the suit, which fit perfectly and felt more comfortable than the Sugoi top and shorts I normally wear. The {re}vici kit's bright-red color and striking graphics make a bold statement -- perhaps too bold for some -- but I love it.<br />
<br />
Gift No. 2: On race morning, organizers announced the swim would be wetsuit-legal. I'm a weak swimmer, so I reacted to the news as if -- well, as if it were my birthday. Which it was. I suspect a little creative thermometer-ing was going on out there on the lake that morning. A few days earlier, the water temp had been hovering around 81. Sunday morning, it checked in at 75. I was always taught, though, that when you receive a gift, you don't ask questions -- you just say "Thank you."<br />
<br />
Gift No. 3: The swim was short. Very short. Like "Are-we-doing-a-half-iron-here-or-are-we-doing-an-Olympic??" short. Like 0.88 miles (per my Garmin) instead of the advertised 1.2. I came out of the water in under 30 minutes, which is much faster than I swam at Over the Mountain and Stumpy Creek (both international-distance races) earlier this year. I think this may have bothered some people. Not me. I mean, if you bust up your 5K PR, then notice everybody's watch is reading "3.01," is it really a PR? I say no. But I also say you ran the same race as everyone else; everyone had the same "advantage," just has everyone has the same "disadvantage" when a course is long, or hilly, or muddy, or whatever. In this case, frankly, I was more than happy to save myself 8 to 9 extra minutes swallowing lake water.<br />
<br />
Gift No. 4: A Zipp wheelset, on loan from <a href="http://www.insideoutsports.com/">Inside Out Sports'</a> Charlotte location. Not only do the Zipps make my Cervelo P2 look about five times cooler than it does with the stock wheels, I honestly felt like they helped me stay locked in during the flat, fast early miles. On Highway 64 around Mile 5, I looked down at my Garmin and saw I was holding a 30+ mph pace. Average pace for Miles 5-20: 21 mph. At the Jetton Park sprint last spring, I averaged 21.3 mph for 12 miles. Even if it was merely a psychological edge I got out of the borrowed wheels, I'll take it. I owe a debt of gratitude to the good folks at Inside Out Sports.<br />
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<br />
Gift No. 5: A natural ability when it comes to transitions. My chip time for T1 was 2:15, but my actual T1 time was 1:15. (I checked with others and indeed there was a discrepancy with the clocks that resulted in the official results subtracting 1 minute from our swim time and adding 1 minute to our T1 time.) That's 1:15 to strip out of the wetsuit, get ready to ride, and get out of transition. The transistion area was small, granted -- but that's still fast. T2? 38 seconds. I don't practice these things. Ever. I think it's just a matter of a smart layout, my brain working very well very quickly, and Pam cooking spray.<br />
<br />
Gift No. 6: Coke. Kelly told me to look for it on the run course. I found it. I took a sip of it at three aid stations, and it was like drinking liquid nirvana.<br />
<br />
Gift No. 7: Seeing my family at the halfway point of the run. My wife Amanda and my 11-year-old daughter Joie have been so massively supportive throughout all of my silly athletic pursuits over the past few years, and seeing them as I completed the first of the two out-and-backs was a big boost. I had to wave off a volunteer who shouted that I was going the wrong way so I could give Joie a low-five as Amanda snapped this great pic.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Gift No. 8: A downhill finish. The benefit of a double out-and-back run course is that after one pass, you know where every up and down is. That's the disadvantage, though, as well, since psychologically you have to ward off bad thoughts about the ups. And there were lots of rolls. As a result, there were a lot of people walking, especially on their second lap. I was determined not to be one of them. One of the main things that kept me going was I knew the last mile and a half was on a decline; all I had to do was get back to the top of that last hill, and -- as the sweetest cliche in endurance racing goes -- "it's all downhill from here." In the end, my last two miles were basically run at the same pace as my first two. Not sure I could have pulled that off without the gift of gravity.<br />
<br />
Gift No. 9: A birthday balloon. About 150 yards from the finish line, former Charlotte resident and all-around good guy Thomas Eggar (who led a great cheerleading squad that also included girlfriend Michelle Hazelton and his daughter) handed me a birthday balloon that I grabbed without really thinking. Check it out in my finish photo:<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(Note: Thomas and Michelle were there to support Charlotte's Carolyn Maye, who also completed the race and also celebrated her birthday Sunday! She's just a liitttle bit younger than me, though...)</i></span><br />
<br />
<b>Gift No. 10: A good friend to share a beer with post-race.</b> Shawn Matthews did his first triathlon in May. He completed his first half iron triathlon just over four months later, finishing only a short time after me. Though our schedules don't allow us to train together very often, he's been a great motivator and someone who's brought a terrific sense of humor to a sport that often takes itself way too seriously. We didn't have a bottle opener on the trip so I bought a six-pack of (twist-off capped) Yuengling at Harris Teeter the night before. It's the best-tasting beer I've had in months, and must have looked pretty darn good to others: A woman waiting in line at the food truck who saw it in my hand offered me $20 to go get another one out of our cooler.<br />
<br />
There are some other gifts worth mentioning. The volunteers were amazing, and if I had the money and resources to track them all down and give them all a beer, $20, plus a free pair of running shoes, I would. Eight to 10 hours of donated time, with very little thanks expected? Amazing. They're humongously selfless people who did a great job. FS Series also deserves big kudos. The staff was friendly, efficient, organized, conscientious and seemed to offer goodies you might not expect even from a more-expensive event -- shirt, medal, visor (cool), socks (nice), free lunch (burgers, fries, etc.), plus all the other amenities that come standard at a professionally run triathlon. Yeah, the swim was short. When everything else goes so right, though, it's easy to overlook 515 meters of lake.<br />
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<br />
Of course, the greatest gift is being able to do this at all. In a note to Kelly last week, I included this as a key goal:<br />
<br />
<i>"Have fun. It's my first 70.3. Whether I do dozens more or never do
another one in my life, I'll always remember it. I want those memories
to be good! "Great" would be even better! I asked Meghan [training partner Meghan Fillnow, Kelly's sister] while we were
riding the other day for some tips, and one of the things she said was
to take the ability to do this as a gift. I think that's great advice.
That's why we do this! I'm not doing this for fame or fortune, so I
hope I can enjoy every moment tomorrow. Or at least most of them!"</i><br />
<br />
I figured I'd be claiming this race as the hardest thing I've ever done to this point ... but looking back ... I'm not sure it was. I think part of it is the fact that Kelly had me so well-prepared. Equally important, though, was my attitude: <i>Have fun. Create great memories. Enjoy every moment. View the ability to do this is a gift.</i><br />
<br />
Done, done, done and done. I had a very happy birthday.<br />
<br />
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<b>OFFICIAL FINISH TIME: 5:24:21.</b><br />
Rank: 42nd out of 151, 40th out of 110 men, 12th in the 35-39M age group.<br />
<br />
<b>SWIM</b><br />
Garmin: 29:42.<br />
Chip: 28:42.<br />
Place: 87th overall (out of 151), 61st male (out of 110), 15th age group (out of 23).<br />
Distance (per Garmin): 0.88 miles. <br />
<br />
<b>T1</b><br />
Garmin: 1:15<br />
Chip: 2:15.<br />
Place: 23rd overall (out of 151), 18th male (out of 110), 6th age group (out of 23). <br />
<br />
<b>BIKE</b><br />
Garmin: 3:00:12.<br />
Chip: 3:00:13.<br />
Place: 50th overall (out of 151), 47th male (out of 110), 13th age group (out of 23). <br />
Distance (per Garmin): 56.07 miles.<br />
Average speed (per Garmin): 18.7 mph.<br />
Average speed (per chip): 18.6 mph.<br />
0-5: 18.2<br />
5-10: 21.4<br />
10-15: 21.0<br />
15-20: 20.6<br />
20-25: 19.3<br />
25-30: 17.7<br />
30-35: 18.6<br />
35-40: 18.5<br />
40-45: 15.9<br />
45-50: 17.4<br />
50-55: 18.0<br />
55-56: 19.5<br />
<br />
<b>T2</b><br />
Garmin: 0:38.<br />
Chip: 0:38.<br />
Place: 14th overall (out of 151), 13th male (out of 110), 6th age group (out of 23). <br />
<br />
<b>RUN</b><br />
Garmin: 1:52:32.<br />
Chip: 1:52:32.<br />
Place: 42nd overall (out of 151), 40th male (out of 110), 12th age group (out of 23). <br />
Distance (per Garmin): 13.09.<br />
Average pace (per Garmin): 8:35/mile.<br />
Average pace (per chip): 8:35/mile.<br />
1: 8:35<br />
2: 8:37<br />
3: 8:21<br />
4: 8:39<br />
5: 8:36<br />
6: 8:09<br />
7: 8:39<br />
8: 8:41<br />
9: 8:42<br />
10: 8:32<br />
11: 9:01<br />
12: 8:41<br />
13: 8:25<br />
.1: 8:29Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-71931850554650224192012-03-20T23:09:00.000-04:002012-03-20T23:09:28.807-04:00Tobacco Road: Sometimes when you lose, you win<div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span>On paper, I had the slowest, worst marathon of my life Sunday in Cary.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span>4:05:49. Slower by about 16 minutes than my first marathon, New York City, back in 2009. Slower by almost an hour than my ninth marathon, Ridge to Bridge, last October. Slower than I ever thought I'd run a marathon that I wasn't pacing.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span>And despite the fact that I started out racing the Tobacco Road Marathon -- really racing -- and didn't come anywhere near the time that I thought I might be capable of, it was also one of the most gratifying races I've run, on a few different levels.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span>This is not a lie that I'm telling you just to make myself feel better. This is the honest truth. I think part of it is I've now run so many marathons in a short period of time (13 in 2-1/2 years) that a) I know I don't need to prove to myself or anyone else that I can run one, and b) I know not every race is going to go very well, much less perfectly.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">All signs pointed to an iffy outcome. My training leading up to the race had been marginal at best. No long runs, no speedwork, just a lot of fun runs -- both solo and with friends -- as work and family stuff consumed me during January, February and the first half of March.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">The forecast was for like 80-85 percent humidity and morning temps in the high 50s to low 60s. My average marathon time in cold, dry weather is in the 3:20s; my average marathon time in warm or humid weather is in the 3:40s.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">So a few days before the race, I made the decision to run without my Garmin, and to try to just turn in the best run that I could while still having fun.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">Before I get into the race recap part of this -- and the race recap part will be relatively brief -- let me clear up a misconception: I am not obsessed with, nor would I call myself eager to, run the Boston Marathon. I think about it once every couple of weeks, maybe, and even then it's just sort of a passing thought.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">I trained last year to hit that time because it gave me something to do, missed it by a little less than four minutes, and moved on with my life. I respect the accomplishment and think it'd be nice to qualify someday. I am in awe of and am so happy for friends who worked their asses off for that goal, and achieved it. B<span style="font-size: 100%; ">ut I'm in no rush and figure I'll probably get there when I'm 45 and run it once.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">This probably sounds like a likely story, something that <i style="font-weight: normal; ">of course</i> someone who isn't capable of qualifying would say, but it really is true. <b>I run because I love to run.</b> I set goals to make things interesting.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">But I also think new experiences make things interesting, which is why I decided to "run naked" (i.e. without my watch). I have to admit that while dreams of Boston have never consumed me, I've always been a slave to the watch. I'm a guy who as a kid would spend three hours organizing his huge baseball card collection according to the most inane statistic. I suck at math, but I'm fascinated by numbers.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">So ditching the watch was a big deal for me.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">And yet when I got to the starting line on Sunday, I wasn't fighting off the shakes and I wasn't pawing absent-mindedly at my wrist. I really felt relaxed, and loose, and ... free. When the gun went off, I just ran.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">I ran whatever pace I was running, and I felt absolutely no stress about the fact that I had no idea what pace I was running. As we wound our way out of the baseball stadium complex where the start and finish were situated, I just ran.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">I ran past the 3:30 group at around the 1-mile mark, the first indication whatsoever of how fast I was going. About 2.5 miles into the course, we turned right, onto the trail section of the course. A younger guy sauntered up alongside me and asked what time I was shooting for. "You know, I'm really not sure," I replied. I explained the watch situation, then said, "Last year I ran a 3:20 here. I guess it'd be nice to do that again, but this humidity..." My sweaty singlet was already clinging to my chest. And then, quickly, I said, "But don't tell me what pace we're running!" He kind of laughed, and chatted at me for a bit. I just ran.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">I ran what felt like a pretty consistent pace, although even just four miles in, I didn't feel like this was going to be my day. The younger guy was also still chatting, but he was dropping a lot of F-bombs, and although I am far from a prude, it was getting a little annoying. I was just here to run, not hang out with Tony Soprano.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Eventually, he said he needed to back, and -- a bit relieved -- I just ran.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; ">I have to tell you, despite the discomfort of running in humidity like that, I just felt <i>so</i> connected to the trail. As addicted as I am to that stupid watch, when you leave it at home, it changes you. You don't worry or wonder about your splits because there's no point. You just run. I just ran.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div>Tobacco Road is done on a course that doubles back on itself twice; there's a U-turn between Miles 8 and 9 and another between Miles 18 and 19. As a result, you get to see friends (and rivals) a couple times, to say "Hey man," or "Looking strong, keep it up," or just to get a read on where they're at in relation to you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Based on the several friends I saw before and after hitting the first turnaround, I felt like I was probably about where I needed to be -- a couple/few minutes behind a buddy shooting for sub-3:15, a couple/few minutes ahead of the 3:30 pace group, several minutes ahead of several friends trying for times in the 3:30-4:00 range. So I just kept running.</div><div><br /></div><div>By about the halfway point, after a couple of long, slight-but-steady inclines, I had determined that this wasn't going to be my best day. Between 14 and 15, we passed the point where you could cut back onto the asphalt and jog the 2.5 miles back to the baseball stadium. But I figured I was still probably somewhere in the 3:20-3:25 range, since the 3:30 pace group hadn't passed me. I just ran.</div><div><br /></div><div>About Mile 16, the lack of fitness and the humidity started to catch up with me. Fatigue was setting in. As I came up on the second turnaround, I saw my 3:15 friend was still looking strong, and when I hit it, I suspected that either he was getting strong or I was getting weaker (or both) -- that he was now about five minutes ahead of me. As I came back toward the "slower" folks, I saw the 3:30 pace group was gaining on me. Probably only three or four minutes behind. "Just running" was becoming harder.</div><div><br /></div><div>Around Mile 20, G.I. issues manifested themselves swiftly and profoundly. Horrifyingly, we were in a forest mini-canyon of sorts, so there was nowhere to go. It took about five or six minutes of painful running to reach a place where I could take care of the problem, and I lost several minutes while doing it. Back on the trail, I didn't need visual proof to know that the 3:30 group had dropped me.</div><div><br /></div><div>At this point, I was probably nearing dehydration, between the sweat and the other problems. Or maybe not. But I was brutally thirsty. So when I hit the aid station at Mile 21, I had a full cup of Gatorade, my first full cup of liquid of the day. Then I had another. Then another. Then another. It tasted so good. Two cups in I knew I would be sloshing if I kept running. Four cups in ... and it was over. After that fourth full cup, I said to myself, "You know what? I don't really wanna run anymore."</div><div><br /></div><div>I was at total peace, too. I grabbed another cup of fluids, and eased back behind the tables. Just started watching. For a minute, I debated looking for a ride. (There'd been a sign right before the tables that denoted this as a "Dropout Point" and that a shuttle could take you back if you couldn't finish.) I wasn't sure anyone would want me in their car at this point, though. I was <i>drenched</i> in sweat.</div><div><br /></div><div>I saw a couple of friends go by and didn't draw attention to myself. It wasn't embarrassment; it was more I didn't want my stopping to in any way get in their heads. I didn't want them to think, <i>He stopped ... I want to stop</i>.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">But I knew my friend Diane would be coming through eventually (she was shooting for 4:00 and had seemed to be fading a little when I saw her approaching the second turnaround), and I had come to the conclusion that the way to make the best of this day would be to help someone else get through those last five, grueling miles -- the toughest miles of any marathon.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">About 20 to 25 minutes after I stopped (although it could have been more, it could have been less -- remember, no watch), I saw her approaching the water station. She seemed to be struggling at this point, and I could tell I'd be fine running with her, despite my current state.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">As she stopped for water, I came up on her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey!" I said. She looked confused. After I explained what happened with my race, I told her I was going to run her in. She continued to look confused. But we started running.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">The next five miles were a slog for both of us. I could have gone faster, but I was thrilled to be running 9- or 10-minute miles. My guess is she might have wanted to go slower, that she would have been thrilled with 11- or 12-minute miles. A couple times, she said, "You can go ahead, I don't want to keep you." I was like, "Diane! I'm not running for time anymore! Stop it! My job now is to get you home." (It'd be easy to say, as a casual observer, that she was just trying to get rid of me. But I've known Diane -- a multi-time Boston qualifier -- for years. When she told me later that she was happy that I kept her company, I am sure she's telling the truth.)</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">I told lame jokes and tried to do as much of the talking as possible, offering encouragement and optimism, particularly over the last two miles. We crossed the line at exactly the same time, shared a high-five, and immediately ran into our mutual friend, Mark, the 3:15 guy ... who had broken 3:15 and qualified for Boston for the first time.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">We all hugged and exchanged high-fives, then posed for a race photographer together before heading over to inhale pizza and grab some free beer. We ran into a couple of other friends, Laura (who'd done the half) and Emily (who'd also struggled through the full). We swapped stories and laughed and griped about the weather.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; ">It was a great way to cool down: With friends and happy talk about running. Only one of us had PR'd, but none of us were discouraged. I was actually thrilled with the way running watch-less had made me feel spiritually, and I'm excited to try it again when I'm in shape and the weather is better. I had been there to support a friend when she was hurting. I ran 26.2 miles on Sunday. I just happened to take a little break at Mile 21.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span>Charles Swindoll once wrote, "The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. ... I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent of how I react to it."</span></span><div><span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; "><span>I would tend to agree.</span></span></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-22121177136683760952011-11-08T19:00:00.002-05:002011-11-08T19:07:19.547-05:00New York? Again? Just my luck.<div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">I'm probably not the luckiest man on the planet, but as the New York City Marathon lottery goes, I've got a pretty good batting average.</div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">First year I applied, boom. In. Ran NYC 2009 as my first 26.2. Second year I applied, no dice. Was just trying to rack up the rejections, anyway, so I could do it again in 2013. But I applied again this past year, and -- boom -- my number came up again.</div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">So I'm standing there Sunday on the base of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, Staten Island side, surrounded by thousands of other runners from all over the world. There's an NYPD helicopter circling above, and a TV news chopper, and a couple of single-engine planes dragging banners, and another helicopter, and I get this lump in my throat and I think to myself: <span style="font-style: italic;">I can't believe I'm fortunate enough to be able to do this race. Again.</span></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">Then New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg addressed the masses over the P.A. system, a woman sang "The Star Spangled Banner," the cannons fired, and Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" rang out as we started heading up the two-mile-long bridge.</div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><div>Going into the race, I wasn't completely sure what was realistic. In 2009, I ran Charlotte's Thunder Road Marathon just five weeks after NYC, and last year, I did Thunder Road six weeks after the Ridge to Bridge Marathon in western North Carolina. This time, though, I had booked a date with the Big Apple just 15 days after the 2011 Ridge to Bridge race, in which I ran as hard as I could and posted a 3:13.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did tell many people that I was doing this one for "fun," that it wasn't a race but an experience to soak up. So I figured somewhere in the neighborhood of 3:30-3:40 was a nice, safe goal for the notoriously challenging course in New York. But as many of you competitive types probably know, the temptation to "go for it" can sometimes be overwhelming.</div><div><br /></div><div>The week of the race, I had successfully convinced myself and my coach that my legs were feeling great, and we agreed that I could try to run 7:45s, which would get me in under 3:25 -- a great time for a runner like me on a course like this. The day before the race, though, as she and I were walking in midtown on the way to catch the shuttle to the expo, she suddenly said, "So I was thinking that maybe you should run 8s for the first half, and then if your legs feel good at that point, you can start to turn it up a little bit and see what happens." This sounded like a good idea ... until I got to the starting line, and greed started seeping into my psyche.</div><div><br /></div><div>I ignored the cardinal rule of marathoning: You don't ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER take the distance for granted. Things can turn in an instant. One moment you feel like you're in complete control, the next moment your race is spinning out of it. (Just ask <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/07/sports/dado-wins-womens-title-in-new-york-city-marathon.html">Mary Keitany</a>.)</div><div><br /></div><div>My fastest mile of the race was the second, a 7:38 coming down the mile-long, 225-foot plunge on the far side of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. My fastest mile of the second half was the 18th, a 7:52 along First Avenue in Manhattan, which typically draws the biggest and loudest crowds of the entire race -- at times 6 to 8 people deep for more than a mile on the west side of the street.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is ironic because I had spent weeks, months even, warning friends of mine who also were running that those were the two spots where they most needed to keep themselves in check.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My race was by no means a disaster. My slowest mile was No. 24, a 9:01 coming up the long incline on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, alongside Central Park, where two-thirds of the runners around me seemed to also be running in slow motion. I soldiered through, without walking, on not-fully-recovered legs, on a course that does everything it can to chew you up and spit you out. (Those bridges were steeper and longer than I remember them, and the climb up Fifth Avenue is agonizing.)</div><div><br /></div><div>After I ran New York two years ago, I wrote <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://obsruntheoden.blogspot.com/2009/11/long-look-back-at-my-new-york-moment.html">a recap</a> that started slowly and was WAY too long -- but I also really feel it captured the experience of running the race about as well as I could have captured it.</div><div><div><br /></div></div><div>That blog entry provided a lot of specifics about the unique qualities of the various areas that the course runs through. This time, I'll just make a blanket statement: To me, Marathon Day in New York is a day that's full of so much hope. Runners hope to get a PR. They hope to spot someone they know in the crowd. Friends and family members hope their runners see the sign they've made for them. Children hope they can get a runner to give them a high five.</div><div><br /></div><div>Race officials estimate that 2 million spectators line the course every year. Maybe that's a wildly inaccurate guess. And, sure, tons the fans have a vested interest in the event (i.e. are out there to support someone running). But I think there are lots of people, especially in Brooklyn and Queens and the Bronx, who just come out because it's fun to cheer. It's fun to gawk. It's fun if you're, say, Italian, or Japanese, or Ethiopian, to go bananas when you see someone running past flying the country's colors on his or her clothing.</div></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">Seeing people who might not otherwise give a hoot about running take time out of their day to be a part of the event in some small way is so awesome, so inspiring, so awe-inspiring. </div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">Purely from a numbers standpoint, I did OK on Sunday. I ran a 3:35:54 -- 1:44:07 for the first half, 1:51:47 for the second half. Not great, not a complete meltdown. These are numbers, though, and as much as I love numbers, this weekend was about the power and the pleasure of bonding experiences.</div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;">One of the many unique aspects of this event is that unless you have remarkably fast or charitable friends, you can't just say to your spouse or your brother or your neighbor or your college roommate, "Hey, let's go run the New York City Marathon." Your number comes up, you do the detective work to find out who else's number has come up, then social plans begin to formulate. After spending a night with a couple who lives in New York but wasn't running the race, I shared a room Saturday and Sunday with a guy I barely knew before the trip and now would consider a good friend. I had a great dinner with some Charlotte Running Club members on Friday night, a fun lunch with my coach and her sister on Saturday, and a delicious feast with friends from the University City Road Runners group I belong to on Saturday night. Each crew was a motley one, many of us thrown together by chance -- but I couldn't have asked for better companions.</div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; font-size: small;"><div><br /></div><div>Now, as fantastic as the entire experience was ... this time around, the inconveniences stood out a little bit more. New York is, of course, expensive; my hotel room was -- after taxes -- more than $900 for two nights. Manhattan is a city geared toward walking and standing around waiting in lines, and one of the worst things a marathoner can do the day before a marathon is a lot of walking and standing around waiting in lines.</div><div><br /></div><div>Race morning is a long ordeal that involves walking, then a subway ride, more walking, then a ferry ride, more walking, then a bus ride, more walking, then a whole lot of standing around. You could get a ride from someone across the bridge, but the Staten Island Expressway must be cleared by 6:45 a.m., so if you go that route, you're in for three-plus hours of waiting around in the start village.</div><div><br /></div><div>The course is very crowded. There were 42,000+ runners when I did it in 2009, and 47,000+ this past Sunday. They're sent off in three waves so it's really kind of like three races with 15,000-16,000 runners in each, but it's still a ginormous number of runners. Worse, occasionally fans, locals, or cops will try to cross the street.</div><div><br /></div><div>After finishing, it's a long, cold march to the baggage trucks containing your warm clothes and your cellphone. It's a virtual certainty that you won't see a friend or loved one for at least 20 to 30 minutes after you cross the finish line, at a time when a hug would feel like the greatest thing in the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>The whole thing sounds pretty awful, doesn't it? Well, go ahead and be scared. If you don't enter the lottery next year, the chances of my number coming up again only get better.</div></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-37558377269452975712011-10-22T19:33:00.004-04:002011-10-23T08:24:06.633-04:00Nope, I'm not disappointed with a 3:13!<div>I didn't really come very close to qualifying for the Boston Marathon today.</div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, I wasn't way off. Missing by 3.5 minutes is much closer than missing by 35 minutes ... but it's still 3.5 minutes. It's not 3.5 seconds.</div><div><br /></div><div>You might ask me (and some have): "Are you disappointed?" And the answer is: Maybe a little bit. Mostly, in truth, because I wanted so badly to hit the mark to honor my coach, who has been molding me and pushing me and prodding me as an athlete for the past several months.</div><div><br /></div><div>But don't ask me whether I'm disappointed. Ask me whether I am totally and utterly psyched. And the answer is: absolutely. Positively.</div><div><br /></div><div>Almost exactly two years ago, I ran a 3:49 in my first marathon. My progression since has been 3:42, 3:49, 3:43, 3:26, 3:28, 3:20, 3:46. So this is a huge, earth-shattering breakthrough for me -- a 7-minute marathon PR and a full 13 minutes faster than my time on the same course one year ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>I ran a 3:13:26 at the Ridge to Bridge Marathon this morning, and here -- in lieu of a more traditional race report -- are the things that stand out to me about after this experience.</div><div><br /></div><div>1. <b>26.2 miles is a loooong #$&@ing way.</b> I usually manage to forget this fact about 24-48 hours after I run a marathon; there's no other way to explain why I keep signing up for these things. I got to Mile 18 today and my head almost fell off of my body when a quick check of the math revealed that I still was going to have to run for another hour at my then-current pace. The early miles fly by like they're nothing, but I would describe the perceived distance between Miles 22 and 23 to be about six miles. It's just a long race.</div><div><div><div><br /></div><div><div>2. <b>A downhill marathon does not mean an "easy" marathon.</b> I picked this race -- which starts in the tiny town of Jonas Ridge and drops down into the Pisgah National Forest before winding its way to Brown Mountain Beach Resort -- because as many of you know it features almost 3,000 feet of descent. Here's the thing: The bulk of the downhill is set between Miles 6 and 13.5. There are two significant uphills within that stretch. The five-plus miles that precede the downhill are wildly rolling. The final 12 or 13 miles are often flat, but have several gradual inclines. The truth of the matter is, the first half of Ridge to Bridge is quite easy. I think my 13.1 split was 1:34-something, and I could have gone faster. On its own, the second half can best be described as easy to moderate. The challenge, though, is managing the three parts of the course so that they all balance each other out and produce a solid time. It's all about tactics. If you hit the first section too hard, you'll pay for it later. If you hit the downhill too hard, you'll pay for it later. If you are too conservative in either spot ... you might pay for it later. People who've never done Ridge to Bridge can easily look at the elevation chart and go, "Well, I could run a huge PR there, too." And they might. They might also crash every bit as hard as I saw many runners crashing out there today. It's fast if you run it correctly. But ask any R2B vet, and I guarantee you they'll say the course is far tougher than it appears to be on paper.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>3. <b>I had a game plan, I went for it, I just came up a little short.</b> So my strategy was to go out slowly, warm up through the rolling hills without getting down to goal pace, then hit the downhill section hard -- without killing it. At the bottom, I planned to try to maintain at or just below goal pace through 23, then I had built a gradual slowdown through the last 3.2 that would still get me to 3:09:30. Everything went according to plan until late in the game. Rolling section up top: 7:46, 7:34, 7:23, 7:27, 7:25, 7:28. Downhill section: 6:58, 6:59, 7:01, 7:12, 6:57, 7:05, 7:10, 7:01. Bottom section: 7:24, 7:15, 7:13, 7:14... Between 18 and 19, I felt a ripple through my right calf muscle that had me backing off just slightly. At this point, I felt like I was still in good shape. 7:23 for Mile 19. And then things started to slowly unravel. The pounding from the downhill was taking its toll, although aerobically I felt good and I still had energy (i.e. I wasn't feeling a bonk coming on). 7:46 for Mile 20. I tried to push through and managed one more halfway-decent mile -- 7:28 for No. 21 -- but then my calf seized up in Mile 22, so I had to back off and clicked an 8:04. The rest is history, or, if you need numbers, 7:53, 8:14, 8:11. About 50 yards from the finish, my hamstring locked up completely and I had to stop to rub it out, but I pulled it together enough to run it in without looking wobbly.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>4. <b>When the margin for error is small, one false move can cost you.</b> I knew I'd be cutting it close. I was in shape for a sub-3:10 attempt. I was not in shape for a sub-3:05 attempt. So it wasn't a case where I could shoot for the moon and then just land among the stars if I missed. Everything had to go perfectly. And one thing didn't. For some reason I can't explain, I took only water at aid stations through 18 miles. When I got the first hints of cramping, I knew immediately that I should have been taking some Gatorade throughout the morning. I'm no sports medicine doctor, but I do know that the most common belief is that we will experience muscle cramps if we run low on electrolytes. I was low on electrolytes. I think I was suffering enough in the late-going that I still likely would have missed my mark; by my unscientific estimates, the cramps cost me a minute or two tops. We'll never know.</div></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>5. <b>I toughed it out, though, and I got my toughness from Kelly Fillnow.</b> I think a year ago, I would have bagged the race at Mile 22 and figured out a way to salvage a 3:20 by taking some walk breaks and coming up with excuses in my head. Instead, I busted my rear end to try to stay on task as much as possible because my coach said to me the day before: "You can endure so much more pain than you think you can." I wanted to test the theory. She also told me to use mantras to focus myself, and I did, and they worked. On the downhill, it was "Lean into it; don't brake. Lean into it; don't brake." In the final miles, it was "Stay within yourself. <i>Stay within yourself</i>." I am proud that I was able to manage the cramps as best I could by slightly changing my cadence and leg lift, applying just enough gas to keep me moving at an OK clip without rising into the red zone and locking up a muscle. I knew I was not going to hit my goal by Mile 23, which in the past would provided me with an excuse to give up. Instead, I kept hammering as hard as I could hammer. It hurt. But I discovered that Kelly is right: I can take a lot more than I thought I could.</div><div><br /></div><div>6. <b>It's great to have a goal, but it's even more gratifying to have great people to help you work toward it.</b> I mentioned this on Facebook, but I am just so thankful to have had the love and support of my wife and daughter through an intense training period, and to have had Kelly there to push me. I self-"coached" myself to a 3:20 in March 2011, just 16 months after my 3:49 debut. But I knew going from 3:20 to 3:10 -- a mark that fewer than 1 in 12 marathoners will ever get to -- was going to take more motivation and effort than I was used to. It's kind of like what they say about losing weight: "The last 10 pounds are the hardest." Anyway, as many of you know, Kelly kicked my butt this summer. I ran more quality miles than ever, did more workouts and speedwork than ever, more core, more strength, more swimming. I got through the training plan without a single injury, without a single injury scare. So this run was for her, and for my wife and daughter.</div><div><br /></div><div>7. <b>You've gotta celebrate the small victories.</b> A Boston qualifying time, of course, was the big goal (sub-3:10 for me). But there are still plenty of positive takeaways, not the least of which is the substantial PR. Perhaps the statistic that makes me smile the most: <i>Nineteen</i> of my mile split times today were faster than my <i>fastest</i> split in the same marathon last year. Oh, and I finished 24th overall out of more than 300 runners. Also, if you look at my result another way, it shows that I missed a BQ by just six seconds per mile -- which makes it sound like I came a lot closer than I actually did!</div><div><br /></div><div><div>8. <b>Ridge to Bridge is an amazing event. Mind-blowingly good.</b> This is a small race that gets all the big things right. Exceptional organization. A beautiful and challenging course, one that can bring you a big PR if you play your cards right. Pristine weather both times I've run it, with amazing fall colors and breathtaking vistas. The best post-race food spread I've ever tasted. Halloween candy and throwaway gloves in your welcome bag. Heated luxury coach buses to take you to the start (you can sit in them right up till a few minutes before the gun goes off). It attracts the friendliest runners you can possibly imagine. There's acold river to soak your legs in at the finish. A race director who knows you by name. A truck that brings discarded clothing to the finish area so you can get it back if you wanted it. Great volunteers. Nice medals. Marathon experiences do not get any better.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>So that's it. No. 9 is in the books. Marathon No. 10 is two weeks from Sunday. I'll write again, after New York...</div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-38461560490629400822011-10-13T14:47:00.002-04:002011-10-13T14:49:57.866-04:00Chat live with a sports medicine expertJust a quick heads-up about something cool Presbyterian Healthcare is offering from 5-6 p.m. TODAY. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dr. Keith Anderson</span>, sports medicine expert, will chat live with folks on <a href="www.facebook.com/presbyterianhealthcare"><span style="font-weight: bold;">the Presbyterian Healthcare Facebook page</span></a>.<br /><br />Fresh off a trip to Kona, Hawaii, where he served on the medical team for the Ironman World Championship, Dr. Anderson will answer questions about distance running, including topics such as nutrition, hydration, mileage progression and injury prevention/treatment.<br /><br />It’s free to participate, though Presbyterian is asking people to register in advance by clicking on <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=261469940557969">this link</a>.Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-16771116783875766552011-10-10T18:19:00.006-04:002011-10-10T20:33:23.782-04:00Area finishers at the Chicago MarathonOne hundred seventy-two Charlotte-area residents are probably a little sore this evening. OK, maybe a lot sore. But they all can say they finished the Chicago Marathon on a day when abundant sunshine and temperatures that climbed into the upper 70s took their toll on runners.<br /><br />The fastest Charlottean was <span style="font-weight: bold;">David Przybyla</span>, 29, who recently moved here from Lafayette, Ind.; if the warm weather got to him, it didn't show -- he ran a steady pace of just over 9 mph (6:35-6:40 pace) for most of the race. The top area woman was <span style="font-weight: bold;">Leslie Gentile</span> of Huntersville; the 27-year-old ran a 3:16:20 and slowed only slightly in the final few miles.<br /><br />Here's a complete list of finishers. If I missed someone, please let me know and I'll add them. Congratulations to all who ran.<br /><br />-------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />David Przybyla, Charlotte: 2:53:55<br />Scott Kennedy, Rock Hill, SC: 2:59:43<br />Josh Lemke, Charlotte: 3:02:45<br />Jason Martin, Charlotte: 3:09:13<br />Tim Friederichs, Charlotte: 3:12:10<br />Paul Shamansky, Midland: 3:15:10<br />Leslie Gentile, Huntersville: 3:16:20<br />Julie Przybyla, Charlotte: 3:19:58<br />Karin Nentwig, Charlotte: 3:20:04<br />Mark Ulrich, Charlotte: 3:23:11<br />Mark McGeough, Huntersville: 3:24:31<br />David Templeton, Fort Mill, SC: 3:26:14<br />Stefan Fencl, Fort Mill, SC: 3:27:03<br />Koine Kinyua, Charlotte: 3:30:31<br />Sarah McGeough, Huntersville: 3:33:51<br />Brian Moroz, Charlotte: 3:34:56<br />Kay Bruegmann, Charlotte: 3:35:30<br />Sean Anderson, Charlotte: 3:35:49<br />Margot Brinley, Charlotte: 3:36:43<br />Westley Webber, Charlotte: 3:36:46<br />Steven Brown, Indian Trail: 3:38:18<br />Laura Oberbauer, Charlotte: 3:41:06<br />Siobhan Grant, Charlotte: 3:43:11<br />Rhett Benner, Huntersville: 3:44:07<br />Nicole Smith, Charlotte: 3:45:26<br />Robert Steere, Waxhaw: 3:47:24<br />Zoe Brennan, Charlotte: 3:48:01<br />Kerry Peterson, Charlotte: 3:48:06<br />Anand Ekambaram, Charlotte: 3:48:21<br />Mike Sullivan, Charlotte: 3:48:26<br />Manuel Pimentel, Charlotte: 3:48:50<br />Shannon Emery, Weddington: 3:52:10<br />Melissa Johnson, Charlotte: 3:53:29<br />Joseph Anastasi, Matthews: 3:54:52<br />Jodi Batista, Stallings: 3:55:23<br />Daniela Wilburn, Huntersville: 3:56:08<br />Timothy Vest, Huntersville: 3:56:33<br />Keri Crews, Charlotte: 3:56:38<br />Gary Chesson, Charlotte: 3:57:40<br />Jonathan Rosen, Charlotte: 3:57:58<br />Jean Hargett, Mooresville: 3:59:12<br />Erica Joefreda, Rock Hill, SC: 3:59:14<br />Katherine Earle, Waxhaw: 4:01:00<br />Katie Harbold, Charlotte: 4:01:50<br />Christi Cranford, Charlotte: 4:03:57<br />Marty Albrecht, Concord: 4:03:59<br />Hazel Tapp, Charlotte: 4:04:07<br />Scott Sharp, Cornelius: 4:05:00<br />Anne Ratcliffe, Charlotte: 4:05:35<br />Diane Derkowski, Charlotte: 4:07:26<br />Michael Ham, Concord: 4:07:32<br />Brooke Smith, Charlotte: 4:07:38<br />Mike Tamberella, Gastonia: 4:08:06<br />Sarah Ryan, Charlotte: 4:08:29<br />Mike Schank, Huntersville: 4:09:20<br />Wade Miller, Charlotte: 4:10:16<br />Darryl Strack, Harrisburg: 4:10:33<br />Kristen Backeberg, Lake Wylie, SC: 4:11:18<br />Pamela Almeida, Charlotte: 4:12:31<br />Greg Scharff, Matthews: 4:12:40<br />Michael Adams, Mooresville: 4:12:59<br />Jason Bria, Charlotte: 4:13:17<br />Jennifer Challis, Fort Mill, SC: 4:13:17<br />Joseph Roche, Concord: 4:13:18<br />Kyle Coates, Charlotte: 4:14:16<br />Jason Silverstein, Charlotte: 4:14:23<br />Gautam Oza, Charlotte: 4:14:46<br />Cliff Jarrett, Charlotte: 4:15:15<br />Sivakrishna Uppalamethi, Charlotte: 4:16:02<br />John Bennett, Clover, SC: 4:16:55<br />Marcia Risi, Davidson: 4:16:56<br />Peter Wysong, Charlotte: 4:17:16<br />Craig Novick, Gastonia: 4:18:12<br />Sara Dumond, Charlotte: 4:19:29<br />Philamee Bennett, Charlotte: 4:19:49<br />Daniel Strong, Charlotte: 4:19:55<br />Andrew Coffey, Charlotte: 4:20:45<br />Scott Snyder, Charlotte: 4:21:11<br />Mark Guenther, Charlotte: 4:24:28<br />John Hasner, Charlotte: 4:25:11<br />Michael Barilla, Charlotte: 4:25:52<br />Jay Johnston, Charlotte: 4:26:34<br />Mary Ann Kennedy, Rock Hill, SC: 4:28:03<br />Ryan Anthony, Gastonia: 4:28:29<br />Nikunj Damani, Charlotte: 4:28:29<br />Toby Holloway, Matthews: 4:28:34<br />Katy Brown, Charlotte: 4:29:32<br />Niki Koesel, Charlotte: 4:30:13<br />Christopher Zagar, Concord: 4:31:33<br />John Allen, Charlotte: 4:32:48<br />Elizabeth Westerberg, Charlotte: 4:32:53<br />Jason Brett, Charlotte: 4:34:43<br />Heather Enlow Novitsky, Charlotte: 4:34:51<br />Elsie Briley, Huntersville: 4:35:11<br />Dominic Salomone, Charlotte: 4:36:38<br />Shelley Dugas Thomas, Davidson: 4:36:53<br />Amy Pittenger, Charlotte: 4:37:34<br />Alex Dolphin, Charlotte: 4:38:12<br />Alexander Gunn, Davidson: 4:38:42<br />Emily Knudson, Concord: 4:43:15<br />Steven Bugica, Charlotte: 4:44:47<br />David Hulbert, Charlotte: 4:45:13<br />Jonathan Czarnecki, Charlotte: 4:46:14<br />Tom Becker, Waxhaw: 4:47:28<br />Eugenia Sosa, Charlotte: 4:47:56<br />Hylton Early, Charlotte: 4:47:57<br />Sara Vest, Huntersville: 4:48:06<br />Charles Waikwa, Charlotte: 4:48:43<br />Christopher Maffucci, Waxhaw: 4:51:44<br />Andrew Markners, Fort Mill, SC: 4:52:50<br />Anne Koester, Huntersville: 4:53:38<br />Matthew Deiger, Charlotte: 4:53:44<br />Emily Harris, Charlotte: 4:53:55<br />Brian Adams, Cornelius: 4:55:46<br />Michael Fink, Cornelius: 4:56:32<br />Praveen Rathee, Charlotte: 4:56:44<br />William Linnane, Indian Trail: 4:57:02<br />Jessica Cohen, Charlotte: 4:57:16<br />Shawne Carew, Charlotte: 4:58:28<br />Amanda Vander Haar, Denver: 4:58:36<br />Hal Keener, Charlotte: 4:58:46<br />Brendan Beirne, Cornelius: 4:59:40<br />Gigi McNinch, Charlotte: 4:59:42<br />Andy Market, Charlotte: 5:00:08<br />Sandy Campuzano, Mooresville: 5:00:12<br />Kevin Hofer, Charlotte: 5:00:39<br />Amheric Hall, Charlotte: 5:01:35<br />Jennifer Brown, Charlotte: 5:02:24<br />Evan Wolkofsky, Charlotte: 5:03:39<br />Stacey Hien, Concord: 5:04:12<br />Scott Jackson, Charlotte: 5:05:22<br />Heidi Giffin, Charlotte: 5:06:18<br />Meredith McCormick, Charlotte: 5:06:18<br />Jeffrey Frelitz, Charlotte: 5:06:37<br />Alecia Taylor, Charlotte: 5:07:04<br />Alison Stanford, Waxhaw: 5:08:43<br />Lesley Williams, Huntersville: 5:09:12<br />Bill Miller, Concord: 5:13:29<br />Mark Burnham, Gastonia: 5:14:34<br />Gatewood Campbell, Huntersville: 5:14:47<br />David Smoots, Charlotte: 5:15:12<br />Kyle Rippey, Charlotte: 5:18:15<br />Stephanie Poludniak, Charlotte: 5:18:26<br />Pani Maddi, Charlotte: 5:21:00<br />William Robinson, Charlotte: 5:21:12<br />Tracey Scheid, Huntersville: 5:23:34<br />Dawn Maschhaupt, Charlotte: 5:23:36<br />Thomas Hornick, Indian Trail: 5:24:56<br />Quyen Tran, Charlotte: 5:27:03<br />Stephen Price, Charlotte: 5:27:52<br />Dana Slagle, Huntersville: 5:28:00<br />Betsy Myers, Charlotte: 5:28:29<br />Robert Prestininzi, Fort Mill, SC: 5:30:04<br />Christopher Otte, Fort Mill, SC: 5:34:45<br />Laura Reed, Charlotte: 5:38:44<br />Allen Wyatt, Charlotte: 5:39:56<br />Melyssa Fleming, Charlotte: 5:42:35<br />Heather Gerhart, Charlotte: 5:42:58<br />Sharon McGowan, Cornelius: 5:44:28<br />Larry Hunt, Charlotte: 5:47:33<br />Vivek Kumar, Charlotte: 5:52:38<br />Charles Ellerbe, Charlotte: 5:54:42<br />Courtney Market, Charlotte: 5:54:58<br />Michael Shade, Charlotte: 5:57:01<br />Nathaniel Romance, Charlotte: 5:57:37<br />Cheryl Emmerich, Charlotte: 6:06:23<br />Joseph Rinaldi, Matthews: 6:07:49<br />Martine Kusiak, Huntersville: 6:10:16<br />Stephanie Yewcic, Huntersville: 6:10:16<br />Anna Pasterz, Charlotte: 6:20:04<br />Michelle Wyatt, Charlotte: 6:20:18<br />Jodie Strong, Charlotte: 6:30:45Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-60786304907464512522011-09-13T09:49:00.000-04:002011-09-13T09:49:36.203-04:00You? A cross-country coach? Why not?<div><b>Do you get a lot out of running? Would you like to give something back?</b></div> <p>Here's an opportunity: It's called Cross-Country for Youth, a 10-week after-school running program designed to combat childhood obesity and promote character-building among middle schoolers. More than 325 students participate in the five-year-old program run by Reggie McAfee, the first African American to break the four-minute mile barrier.</p> <p>What does this have to do with you, and with "giving back"? Well, the program -- which is in about 22 Charlotte-Mecklenburg elementary and middle schools and three Mecklenburg Parks -- needs coaches and character presenters.</p> <p>In addition to practices, held on Mondays and Wednesdays from 4:30 to 6 p.m., student participants will be competing in a series of cross-country meets. The estimated weekly time commitment for coaches is two hours over the 10-week period; all materials and training will be provided, and it's OK to buddy up and coach with a friend.<br /></p> <div>For details on Cross-Country for Youth, click here. If you are interested, contact McAfee via e-mail (<a title="mailto:reggie.mcafee1@gmail.com" href="mailto:reggie.mcafee1@gmail.com">reggie.mcafee1@gmail.com</a>) or phone (704-634-4688) <span style="font-weight: bold;">this week</span> -- the program's fifth season is just about to begin.<br /></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-71379637519821527202011-09-12T11:13:00.004-04:002011-09-13T09:22:01.766-04:00Inaugural 5K to support Let Me Run<span class="white_txt"><a href="http://www.fix4theday.com/">Fix 4 the Day</a> -- </span><strong></strong>a local "network of people inspiring each other to live a healthier lifestyle by exercising their bodies, minds, and spirits" -- has announced it will sponsor and coordinate a 5K run/walk that will benefit <a href="http://www.letmerun.org/">Let Me Run</a> of Charlotte.<br /><br />The Fix 4 the Day 5K will be held at 8:30 a.m. on Saturday, Nov. 19, at McAlpine Creek Park. The out-and-back course is on a gravel footpath that is 10 to 15 feet wide; there'll be a water station at the 1.7 mile mark. Former Carolina Panthers safety Leonard Wheeler will speak before the race, and plans to hang out afterward. Post-race food and refreshments will be available.<br /><span class="white_txt"><br />Let Me Run is a non-profit "aimed at strengthening boys in body and spirit," which "use(s) the power of running and lively group activities to equip boys with tools to lead a balanced and fulfilling life.</span><br /><br />For more info and to register, click <a href="http://www.fix4theday.com/events/fight-gone-bad/">here</a>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Also:</span> Volunteers are needed to assist boys, and to cheer them on as they run. Anyone interested in helping out can contact volunteer coordinator Kirsten Wrinkle at <a title="mailto:kwrink@bellsouth.net" href="mailto:kwrink@bellsouth.net">kwrink@bellsouth.net</a>.Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-70442123831464420192011-09-02T17:04:00.003-04:002011-09-02T17:43:55.390-04:00Want to race on Sept. 10? Take your pick Lots of Charlotte's fastest runners will be out of town next weekend for the Blue Ridge Relay, so consider one of several races happening next Saturday -- each offers a chance to snag that elusive age-group award before summer ends. Read on for details.
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<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hog Jog</span></span>
<br />The Time Warner Cable BBQ & Blues Festival has moved locations to the NC Music Factory for the event’s ninth year. The Charlotte Sports Commission’s Hog Jog has" piggy-backed" that move and will also begin and end at the NC Music Factory. In addition to the change in location, numerous new components will be included this year. The Hog Jog will extend in length to a 10K while partnering with a 5K, the Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers Run. The overall male, female, and "squealchair" winners of the Hog Jog will receive a prize pack worth $450, including $300 cash, a pair of Adidas sneakers, and a gift certificate from Dick’s Sporting Goods. Once again, the first 200 runners who sign up for the Hog Jog 10K and Finlandia Bloody Mary contest will participate in a tasting competition between five local bars and restaurants. The post-race Piglet Fun Run will take place at approximately 9:30 a.m. and include mascot appearances from Chubby, Norm the 49er, Lug Nut, Monkey Joe, Rex and Bruggie. The Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers began in New York City in the aftermath of Sept. 11, 2001, to honor firefighter Stephen Siller -- who ran eight miles in full gear from the Battery Tunnel to the Twin Towers that morning. For the 10th anniversary of the tragedy, race managers and the Stephen Siller Foundation decided to extend the race to take place in several U.S. cities, including Charlotte. To register for the Hog Jog 10K ($30 in advance, $35 day-of), the Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers Run ($25) or the Piglet Fun Run (free), visit <a href="http://www.hogjog.org">www.hogjog.org</a>.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Piedmont HealthCare Historic Mooresville 5K</span></span>
<br />In addition to the 5K, organizers are hosting a one-mile event. The One Mile Challenge starts at 8 a.m. and offers prize money for the first- ($150), second- ($100) and third-place ($50) men and women. The cost of this race is $10 (no T-shirts for this one). The 5K will start at approximately 8:20 a.m. There are awards and prizes for top overall and masters finishers, plus age-group awards. Male and female winners receive a free pair of running shoes from Fleet Feet Huntersville; masters winners get shoes from McLelland Family Shoes in Statesville. Cost for the 5K is $20 (includes T-shirt). Runners can enter both races for $25. There is registration and packet pickup on race day at the race site: Mooresville Public Library, 304 S. Main St. in Mooresville. Prices for registration increase on race day. There will be door prizes, including a free mattress from Sweet Dreams Mattress Company. All proceeds from the race are going to help children learn to read who are struggling in school; the YMCA and the Mooresville Library are the beneficiaries in this effort. Details: <a href="http://www.historicmooresville5k.com">www.historicmooresville5k.com</a>. Register: <a href="http://www.queencitytiming.com">www.queencitytiming.com</a>.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rock & Read 5K</span></span>
<br />The Friends of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Library once again will host the event, which supports the Charlotte Mecklenburg Library system. Last year, at the inaugural race, more than $13,000 was raised for the library as more 500 runners participated. The race again will feature bands and music at every mile, and a festival atmosphere following the event in front of one of the city's finest library branches: <strong style="font-weight: normal;">Scaleybark Library Branch (101 Scaleybark Road)</strong>. The Friends of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Library is a non-profit organization established to champion the efforts of the Public Library System. Details: Click <a href="http://www.cmlibraryfriends.org/index.php/upcoming-events/rock-a-read-5k">here</a>.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tyler’s Treehouse 5K</span></span>
<br />The sixth annual race will be held in Charlotte at the Olde Georgetowne Swim Club (located off Sharon Road near the Harris YMCA). This event is being organized in memory of Tyler Scott. Tyler’s parents (Howard and Dana) and brothers (Chase, Bryce, and Aidan) live in Charlotte. Tyler was just 5½ years old when he was diagnosed with brainstem glioma on Jan. 30, 2006. He did not show any symptoms of this deadly disease until a week before his devastating diagnosis. Tyler died 9 days later on February 8, 2006. The goal of Tyler’s Treehouse Inc. is to find a cure for brainstem glioma with the help of researchers at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. Info on the foundation: <a href="http://www.tylerstreehouse.org">www.tylerstreehouse.org</a>. Registration: <a href="http://www.sportoften.com">www.sportoften.com</a>. Runners and walkers of all ages are welcome; there's also a 1 Mile Fun Run/Walk. A family-friendly post-race party will be held at the OG pool until 1 p.m.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Big Red Shoe 5K</span></span>
<br />The Cornwell Center at Meyers Park Baptist Church (2001 Selwyn Avenue, Charlotte) is host for this eighth annual event, which supports the Ronald McDonald House of Charlotte. The carefully mapped road race will appeal to runners of all levels; kids are able to compete in their own fun 1k run/walk as well. This year, the family-friendly festival tied to the race includes a pancake breakfast, a rock climbing wall, a moon bounce, a petting zoo and sport massages.
<br />All proceeds benefit the Ronald McDonald House of Charlotte. 5K run begins at 8:05 a.m.; 5K walk and 1K event both begin at 9. Festival and celebration begin at 9:20. Parking is available behind the Cornwell Center on Roswell Avenue and adjacent streets; restrooms and locker rooms are available in the Cornwell Center. Registration: Click <a href="http://bigredshoe5k-autohome.eventbrite.com">here</a>.
<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(31, 29, 26);font-size:11pt;" ></span></p>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-55601750453763217892011-08-29T10:24:00.001-04:002011-08-29T10:25:59.568-04:00Charlotte marathon seeks noisy neighbors <p class="NoSpacing1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Charlotte's </span><a title="blocked::http://www.runcharlotte.com/" href="http://www.runcharlotte.com/"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://www.runcharlotte.com/">7<sup title="blocked::http://www.runcharlotte.com/">th</sup> Annual Thunder Road Marathon</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> is calling on area neighborhoods to take part in its “Neighborhood Association Challenge” to support the thousands of runners who will take to the </span><a title="blocked::http://runcharlotte.com/welcome.htm#maps" href="http://runcharlotte.com/welcome.htm#maps"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://runcharlotte.com/welcome.htm#maps">streets of Charlotte</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> on Saturday, Nov. 12, 2011.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="NoSpacing1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p>Geared toward neighborhoods along </span><a title="blocked::http://runcharlotte.com/welcome.htm#maps" href="http://runcharlotte.com/welcome.htm#maps"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://runcharlotte.com/welcome.htm#maps">the course</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> – Eastover, Foxcroft, Myers Park, Dilworth, South End, Wilmore, Gateway/Third Ward, NoDa and Plaza Midwood – Thunder Road Marathon will award two $500 checks to two neighborhoods that put on the best event and showed the most support for the marathon. The winning neighborhood associations are free to utilize the cash as they please. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="NoSpacing1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p>Participants in the “Neighborhood Association Challenge” are encouraged to be as creative as possible to get the runners pumped up. Requirements for the challenge include: making it public and open to all residents of the neighborhood; promoting it to all neighborhood residents; keeping it outside and along the marathon course; incorporate a racing theme; cheering on the runners; and taking photos. Residents are encouraged to lead the charge with their respective neighborhoods if they would like to be involved in this opportunity.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="NoSpacing1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p>“Thunder Road Marathon is a community event that draws in runners from all over the country and Canada so we have a great opportunity to show off the spirit and camaraderie of Charlotte,” said Tim Rhodes, race director of the Thunder Road Marathon. “We encourage all neighborhoods, residents and businesses along the course to come out and cheer the runners. Powerful crowd support is incredibly motivating during all stages of the race.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="NoSpacing1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p>To register for the “Neighborhood Association Challenge” or for any questions, contact Ashleigh Lawrence at </span><a title="blocked::mailto:Ashleigh@runforyourlife.com" href="mailto:Ashleigh@runforyourlife.com"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::mailto:Ashleigh@runforyourlife.com">Ashleigh@runforyourlife.com</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Registration for the 2011 Marathon is open and is available online at </span><a title="blocked::http://www.runcharlotte.com/" href="http://www.runcharlotte.com/"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://www.runcharlotte.com/">www.runcharlotte.com</span></a><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Both the 7<sup>th</sup> Annual Thunder Road Marathon (a Boston Marathon Qualifier) and </span><a title="blocked::http://www.amica.com/" href="http://www.amica.com/"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://www.amica.com/">Amica Insurance Half-Marathon</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> will take place on certified courses starting at 7:45 a.m. The </span><a title="blocked::http://www.presbyterian.org/" href="http://www.presbyterian.org/"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://www.presbyterian.org/">Presbyterian Hospital 5K</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> will begin at 8:15 a.m. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Entry fees are as follows: <b>Now thru Nov. 4:</b> Marathon - $95, Half-Marathon - $65 and 5K - $35; and at the pre-event <b>Expo (Nov. 10-11):</b> Marathon - $125, Half-Marathon - $90 and 5K - $45. </span><span class="mainfont1"><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt;"></span></span>There is also a <a title="blocked::http://runcharlotte.com/races-marathon.htm" href="http://runcharlotte.com/races-marathon.htm"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" title="blocked::http://runcharlotte.com/races-marathon.htm">double medal opportunity</span></a><span class="mainfont1"><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span>for those who run the Dowd YMCA Run Half-Marathon (Oct. 22, 2011) and the Thunder Road Marathon or Amica Insurance Half-Marathon.</p>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-38885422753896253722011-08-09T10:57:00.002-04:002011-08-09T11:03:10.025-04:00Attention Blue Ridge Relay participants<h1></h1><span style="font-style: italic;">Reposting this announcement from TrySports' website:</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Blue Ridge Relay Information Meeting and Discussion Forum, plus BRR Team Gear Deals
<br />9-10 a.m. Saturday, Aug. 13</span> <p>Whether you are brand-new to the crazy sport of running or you’re a seasoned veteran with thousands of miles of pavement, concrete, and dirt in your wake, you will probably want to go ahead and put this race on your “to-do” list.</p> <p><img alt="" src="http://www.trysports.com/userfiles/image/Marketing/logo.gif" width="118" align="right" height="248" />The 208-mile Blue Ridge Relay (BRR208), which is one of the longest running relay races in the United States, takes place in the picturesque Blue Ridge and Black Mountains of Virginia and North Carolina and has been named the second-best road race (behind the Susan G. Komen Race Series) in the Best of 2010 edition of Blue Ridge Outdoors Magazine. Here’s the best part: There are still a few spots left for this September’s race.</p> <p>Due to the fact that an exceptional number of this year’s participants hail from the Charlotte area, the kind folks directing this year’s race will be visiting TrySports to hold an information meeting just for you. Believe us when we say coordinating 12 people (among 120 teams of 12 people) to move across 208 miles of the scenic North Carolina High Country -- on foot, sometimes in the dark -- is no easy task. Knowledge is equal to safety and speed in this fantastic adventure. So come join us at TrySports on Aug. 13 to learn more about this great event as well as to ask questions, share experience, or swap stories with the people who know all about this race. TrySports will also offer <strong style="font-weight: normal;">one-day-only specials to participants in this year’s race to outfit your team ... </strong>. Please email <a href="mailto:justinbreland@trysports.com?subject=Blue%20Ridge%20Relay%20Meeting%20RSVP">justinbreland@trysports.com</a> with questions or to RSVP for this event.</p>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-55814302498024228432011-06-15T18:08:00.000-04:002011-06-15T18:08:35.381-04:00Odds + ends for my running friends<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></p><span><span>Here's a rundown of several upcoming local races and events that might interest you:</span></span><br /><ul><li>The sixth race of the 2011 Run For Your Life Grand Prix Series is the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Summer Breeze 5K</span>, which is set for this Saturday, <span style="font-weight: bold;">June 18</span>, at Freedom Park (1900 East Blvd.). Women's start is set for 7:30 a.m., with the men going off at 8. The staggered start allows men to cheer for the women as they finish, and vice versa. Cost is $25 in advance or $35 or race day. The event will double as the Carolina's Club Championship. See <a href="http://www.runforyourlife.com/race/summer-breeze-5k"><span style="font-weight: bold;">the race website</span></a> for all the details.<br /></li></ul><ul><li><p style="line-height: 150%;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 150%; font-size: 10pt;"></span></p>On Saturday, <span style="font-weight: bold;">June 18</span>, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Home Run 5K Run/Walk</span> will be held on the McAlpine Creek Greenway 5k Cross Country Course at 8711 Monroe Road in Charlotte. If you're unfamiliar with the trail, "there's a challenging hill in the middle, a beautiful lake at the end, and both straight shots and curvy parts." The 5k run will start at 9 a.m. and the 5K walk will start at 9:10. Register for $20 in advance or $30 on race day (walkers pay $15). Proceeds benefit the Carolinas CARE Partnership, which provides comprehensive AIDS resources and education for people living with and at risk for HIV and AIDS in the Greater Charlotte region. More race details: Click <a href="http://carolinascare.org/calendar/events.asp?action=day&date=2011-06-18"><span style="font-weight: bold;">here</span></a>.</li></ul><ul><li>The new <span style="font-weight: bold;">Run For Your Life Summer Track Series</span> (formerly the <span>Charlotte Track & Triathlon Club's Trenton Guy Sr. Summer Track Series</span>) continues Tuesday, <span style="font-weight: bold;">June 21</span>, at the Myers Park High School track. Registration begins at 5 p.m., with the first event at 6 p.m. All ages and abilities are welcome. The entry fee is $8 for adults for a single-night pass, or $25 for a season pass (series runs every Tuesday through June). The events in order are: 50m, 100m, 1 mile, 4 x 100m relay, 400m, 800m, 200m, and 2 mile. For details, click <a href="http://runforyourlife.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">here</span></a>.</li></ul><ul><li>If you're looking for a fun smaller race this month, consider the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Upgrade 5K & Kids Fun Run at Birkdale</span> on Saturday, <span style="font-weight: bold;">June 25</span>. The 5K is at 8 a.m., and the Kids Fun Run follows at 8:45 a.m. It's being put on by UpGrade Lifestyle Inc. of Huntersville, and will start at the Birkdale Resident's Club, 8915 Devonshire Drive (also in Huntersville). Cost is $20 in advance or $25 on race day (kids' race is $5). Proceeds will benefit the Rheumatoid Arthritis Foundation. UpGrade employs a couple friends of mine as trainers -- professional triathlete Kelly Fillnow and two-time Olympic Trials marathon qualifier Megan Hovis; both of them will be there supporting runners on race day. Details: Click <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.upgradelifestyleinc.com/Birkdale_Events.html">here</a>. <span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:130%;color:#79f553;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></span></span></li></ul><ul><li><div>Charlotte Running Co. and Carolina Sports Clinic are launching a new evening race for Independence Day weekend: the first annual <span style="font-weight: bold;">Charlotte Firecracker 5K</span>, set for 7 p.m. Sunday, <span style="font-weight: bold;">July 3</span>, on a fast loop course through Charlotte's Olde Providence neighborhood. This family-friendly race will be followed by a pool party featuring music, food and drinks. Cost is $20 through June 26. Race website: Click <a href="http://www.charlottefirecracker5k.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">here</span></a>.<br /></div><div><strong><span style="color: rgb(158, 37, 34);"></span></strong></div></li></ul><ul><li>10Ks are rare in Charlotte, so it's nice to see that the <span style="font-weight: bold;">OrthoCarolina Classic</span> is back for its second summer after a successful inaugural event last August. The race's 2011 date is Saturday, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Aug. 20</span>, and the official starting area again on the corner of Randolph Road and North Colonial Avenue. The 10K starts at 7:45 a.m., plus there's a 5K that goes off 15 minutes earlier. The events are designed "to promote and encourage active families and healthy lifestyles ... while raising awareness for the <a href="http://www.orthocarolinaresearch.org/">OrthoCarolina Research Institute</a>." Cost for the 10K is just $25 through July 31. Last year, 186 runners completed the 10K (170 ran the 5K). Race website: Click <a href="http://www.orthocarolinaclassic.com/full/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">here</span></a>.<br /></li></ul>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-46597538163934684062011-05-09T14:08:00.000-04:002011-05-09T14:08:27.019-04:00New River had ups and downs. Mostly ups.Just over a mile into the New River Marathon on Saturday, I hit a wall.<br /><br />Then I hit another one at Mile 5, and another one at Mile 13, and another at Mile 16, and another at Mile 17.<br /><br />I guess this is what I get for signing up for a marathon that runs through the Blue Ridge Mountains.<br /><br />To give you some sense of the hills that confronted me and the approximately 200 other brave souls that tackled the course this past weekend...<br /><br />...OK, so you've heard of (or run up) the Boston Marathon's legendary Heartbreak Hill before, right? Set between the 20 and 21 mile marks, it is the last and most difficult of the four famed "Newton hills." Heartbreak rises 88 feet over four-tenths of a mile.<br /><br />The first of the climbs at New River comes 1.3 miles in. The ascent lasts a mile and is 308 feet. The second of the hills starts at Mile 5 and goes up 122 feet over seven-tenths of a mile. Hill No. 3 is 12.9 miles in and climbs 187 feet over seven-tenths of a mile.<br /><br />But it's the final two hills -- mountains, actually -- that are the real doozies. The first starts just after Mile 16 and features a 174-foot ascent (more than twice as much elevation gain as Heartbreak) over about 320 meters (less than half the length of Heartbreak). The second climb, at Mile 17, is virtually identical. In one section, there is a 16.1 percent grade.<br /><br />Boston has Heartbreak Hill, but this was Bodybreak Hill. Mindbreak Hill. Soulbreak Hill.<br /><br />Of course, all of this is information I could have pulled right off the NRM website months before I actually ran the race. And I mean, it's not like I didn't look at <a href="http://www.newrivermarathon.com/?page_id=345">the elevation profile</a> before signing up, or after signing up, or the day before the race. But looking at spikes and dips on a graph and turning a corner to find a strip of road that seems to disappear up into the clouds are two very different experiences.<br /><br />Anyway, I'll spare you the typical details about the ride up, what I had to eat the night before, packet pickup, pre-race prep, etc., except to say that the place my buddy Shawn Matthews and I stayed in was adjacent to a complex that could have stood in for Camp Crystal Lake from the "Friday the 13th" movies. And our room? It had no TV, no phone, no fridge, and no indoor plumbing. (OK, I'm joking about that last part.)<br /><br />The only thing worth noting about the 35-minute drive to the start Saturday morning is that I tried and failed several times to get my Garmin to power up. But to make a long story short, my friend Emily Knudson came up to me right before the start and offered me hers. I set it up to pace me to a 3:30. I'm laughing thinking about that now (spoiler alert: I ran a 3:46).<br /><br />So if you're reading this, you're almost certainly a runner, and if you're a runner, you're almost certainly competitive.<br /><br />Not competitive in the sense that you are fast and you train with Jordan Kinley or Caitlin Chrisman or any of the other local elite runners whose names you routinely see at the top of the results after a big Charlotte race.<br /><br />What I mean, rather, is that you have a competitive streak. Whether you run 4-1/2-minute miles or 14-1/2-minute miles, you have a strong desire to be more successful (i.e. faster) than others. You enter races, and more often than not, you are trying to set PRs.<br /><br />Run enough races and you will tend to see the same faces -- or the same backsides, at least -- during them. Similarly able runners who you'll run by, or who will run by you, or who will run next to you. Runners who you use as targets. Runners who you want to beat.<br /><br />For me, one of those runners is a young woman named Jinnie Austin.<br /><br />The first time we met, at the Corporate Cup Half Marathon in 2010, we actually ran together and chatted for awhile, but she faded in the late going and finished in 1:40 to my 1:36. A couple months later I beat her by 9 seconds in a 5K. Then the tide started turning. She beat me by more than half a minute at a 5K in August, and by 12 seconds during a 15K in the fall.<br /><br />So when we bumped into each other at the starting line on Saturday, I added another goal to the list for the race: <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't let Jinnie beat me</span>. It's funny -- it wasn't so much "I have to beat <span style="font-style: italic;">her</span>," it really was, "I don't want <span style="font-style: italic;">her </span>to beat <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span>." Does that make sense?<br /><br />It was nothing personal; it's just, she's a very good runner, and beating her would feel like an accomplishment.<br /><br />She said she was sort of shooting for 3:40... I told her I was sort of shooting for 3:30. Then the gun went off. She was about 15 or 20 meters ahead of me for the first few minutes, then I caught her and we made small talk until we hit the first hill.<br /><br />This was no small hill, as I mentioned. Before the race, most of the focus was on the big elevation spikes in the second half of the course. No one had mentioned this one -- and they should have. It included several switchbacks and blind curves, so one of the worst things about not being ready for it was I had no idea it was A MILE LONG.<br /><br />I left Jinnie behind maybe halfway up it, and wouldn't see her again for 2-1/2 hours.<br /><br />Every time the next section came into view, after rounding a corner or cresting a steep rise, I'd mutter a "Are you kidding me??" (with maybe an obscenity or two added in there for effect).<br /><br />Then we hit the top and plunged straight back down, 246 feet down over just seven-tenths of a mile according to the elevation map. So three miles in and already my calves, hamstrings and quads were complaining mightily.<br /><br />I knew this was not going to be a 3:30 kind of a day.<br /><br />Still, with the exception of the brief but aggressive climb at Mile 5, most of the first half really was amazingly flat. For me, though, it had become a psychological battle of sorts. That first mountain had sapped my legs a bit, but because it also had surprised me so much, it had me constantly fearing what might be around the next corner.<br /><br />The course was designed, loosely, as a figure-eight. It traverses some beautiful sections of the Blue Ridge, the New River Valley, and winds through a picturesque landscape of farms and forests. As you might imagine, it's in the middle of nowhere. At Mile 11, we looped back past the start/finish (hosted by the family-owned Riverside Restaurant), and the size of the crowd here -- maybe 100 people cheered as we ran through -- was about 25 times the size of the second-largest crowd I saw along the course that day.<br /><br />This being a small race, I was pretty much passing no one and pretty much no one was passing me. Every half-hour or so I'd glance back fully expecting to see Jinnie not far back; but if she was there, she was in a blind spot.<br /><br />Then around Mile 12, I ran into Jinnie's husband, Stan, a 3:03 marathoner who I figured would be good for a Top 10 and maybe even a Top 5 finish. I was surprised to see him heading in the opposite direction. As we passed each other I asked him, basically, "What's going on?" and that he replied, basically, "I'm done." We didn't get much off other than that, and as I continue on of course now all I can think of is "These hills that are coming up must be killers." I'd later find he dropped out because of stomach issues, but at the time I had scared myself into thinking he had had hill issues.<br /><br />And then <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> had hill issues.<br /><br />Suffice it to say, between the time we started climbing at Mile 13 and the zenith of the course just after 17, I walked several times for several minutes at a stretch. Not because I had hit the wall in the glycogen depletion sense, but more in the these-hills-are-so-steep-I-can-walk--them-as-fast-as-I-could-run-them sense.<br /><br />I'll never forget this: I was walking up the last quarter of a long stretch of paved road in Mile 15 that seemed to go forever. Near the top, I saw the 16th mile marker on the side of the road, just before the course hung a right. I got to it, made the turn, and immediately was faced with a dirt road that would have benefited from a ladder (or an escalator, at least). I kept walking.<br /><br />It got so steep in sections that I almost lost my balance. And had I fallen backward, I probably would have rolled all the way back down to the bottom. One guy plodded past me, but -- although I kept expecting Jinnie to pass me -- no one else made a move anywhere in this section.<br /><br />The quad-pummeling began again after cresting the mountaintop at 17.4 miles in. Gravity did most of the work for the next three miles, although I was still way off my goal pace. By this point, I was just hoping to come in under 3:50 and avoid setting a personal worst.<br /><br />Shortly after the 19th mile marker, right in the middle of yet another hill, a Jeep came down the road toward me and slowed. It was Stan. He told me I was on the last hill, and it was all flat the rest of the way (I was hopeful but skeptical). I basically replied "Thank GOD," and that I felt like toast. I think I asked if he'd seen Jinnie, thinking that maybe I missed her pass me. He said, "Nope, but here she comes."<br /><br />It wasn't long after that that Jinnie passed me.<br /><br />I tried to stay with her. But I was struggling. It was now nearing 11 o'clock, and the sun was feeling warm. Miles 20-26 seemed like they weren't shaded at all. Aid stations had been set up every two miles, on the even numbers. Because of the heat, that wasn't enough. Two miles is a loong way that late in a marathon, a looong way when you're thirsty.<br /><br />Fortunately, I was able to stay not too far behind Jinnie. And the best part about staying with her was also the best part about Stan dropping out of the race: He had come prepared with bottled water and cups, and parked his Jeep in front of the marker at 21 to hand out water to Jinnie, to me, and to several other runners; he did it again at 23.<br /><br />The water saved me. After the drink at 23, I ran with Jinnie for a bit; we talked about what hurt and not much else. In hindsight, I wish I could have been more encouraging to her, but I was just trying to hold it together. She got ahead again as I walked through the aid station at 24, but I caught back up to her fairly quickly. I could tell she was fading fast as we neared Mile 25.<br /><br />And then she was gone.<br /><br />I pulled in at 3:46:43.<br /><br />I am really very proud of the fact that I never bonked in the race, that I was able to cling to about a 9-minute pace in the last four miles of a marathon that was both brutally hilly and warmer than I would have preferred down the stretch.<br /><br />Jinnie came in at 3:47:55, finishing second in her age group and was the fifth woman overall. This seems like a good time to reveal some important information about her that I've been withholding: She has been having a pretty painful hip flexor issue over the past few weeks and hadn't done much running leading up to race day. Oh, and this was her first marathon -- so she doesn't have near the experience I do with marathon pacing and marathon-pain management.<br /><br />In other words, as gutsy as I think my performance was Saturday, hers was 10 times gutsier.<br /><br />Frankly, it was the misfortunes of Stan and Jinnie Austin saved me on Saturday. If Stan hadn't been having issues that forced him to drop, I would have completely wilted late in the race, and it would have turned into a death march. If Jinnie had been healthy and fully trained, she would have left me in the first half-mile and gone on to beat me by 5 minutes in this one, maybe more. The mere presence of someone I consider a (friendly) rival helped to push me through the final miles.<br /><br />In other words, I could have skipped all of this race recap business and gone straight to the punchlines: The New River Marathon is super-hilly, and I owe the Austins dinner.<br /><br />- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The splits from my -- er, Emily Knudson's -- Garmin, for those who care about such things:<br /><br />Mile 1: 7:49<br />Mile 2: 8:27<br />Mile 3: 8:09<br />Mile 4: 7:46<br />Mile 5: 8:01<br />Mile 6: 8:38<br />Mile 7: 8:13<br />Mile 8: 8:12<br />Mile 9: 8:03<br />Mile 10: 8:04<br />Mile 11: 7:59<br />Mile 12: 8:00<br />Mile 13: 8:25<br />Mile 14: 9:05<br />Mile 15: 8:58<br />Mile 16: 9:54<br />Mile 17: 10:58<br />Mile 18: 9:53<br />Mile 19: 8:23<br />Mile 20: 8:13<br />Mile 21: 8:41<br />Mile 22: 8:44<br />Mile 23: 8:55<br />Mile 24: 9:05<br />Mile 25: 8:55<br />Mile 26: 8:55<br />Last 0.2: 8:22</span>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-70598210049135799722011-04-18T21:37:00.000-04:002011-04-19T08:08:45.695-04:00125+ area runners finish Boston Marathon<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; ">More than 125 Charlotte-area residents ran from Hopkinton, Mass., to downtown Boston Monday as participants in the 115th Boston Marathon, the oldest annual marathon in the world.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; ">About 27,000 runners representing 90 countries were on hand for the race, which featured perfect weather, a generous tailwind, and stiff competition that led to the fastest men's marathon time ever - 2 hours, 3 minutes, 2 seconds.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; ">The Charlotte area's fastest finisher was Nathan Stanford, 32, a Huntersville resident and South Carolina graduate running his first Boston Marathon.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; ">"I thought that the weather was nearly perfect with a strong swirling wind that was never really at your face but at the same time not the constant tailwind that was predicted," Stanford wrote in an e-mail tonight. "The event was, in my opinion, flawless from start to finish, and it's obvious that the people of greater Boston truly embrace this race and all of the runners who toe the line in Hopkinton. This marathon experience is one that will remain permanently etched in my memory."</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; ">Danielle Crockford, 30, was the top local woman; she crossed the line in 3:14:49. Area participants ranged in age from 19-year-old college freshman Timothy Marquardt of Denver (3:38:30) to 62-year-old Ken Partel of Troutman (3:45:22).</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><b style="margin-top: 0px; ">Area finishers, with age:</b></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Nathan Stanford, 32, Huntersville 2:41:14</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Scott Woodbury, 29, Charlotte2:42:11</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Bill Shires, 46, Charlotte 2:42:39</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Michael Beigay, 32, Concord 2:44:21</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Chad Crockford, 29, Charlotte 2:47:07</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Michael Kahn, 31, Charlotte 2:50:41</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lance Hutchens, 33, Charlotte 2:55:54</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Pete Kaplan, 54, Charlotte 2:56:36</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Mike Moran, 35, Denver 2:57:59</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Tom Ricks, 37, Charlotte 2:58:44</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Adrian Stewart, 40, Charlotte 2:59:15</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Daniel Rutter, 36, Charlotte 3:00:52</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Clayton Venhuizen, 39, Charlotte 3:01:43</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Christopher Bradle, 37, Charlotte 3:02:13</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Chris Cummins, 37, Charlotte 3:03:22</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">David Price, 38, Charlotte 3:03:41</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Joseph Korzelius, 42, Albemarle 3:04:19</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Stan Austin, 35, Matthews 3:06:14</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Rasmus Pedersen, 35, Charlotte 3:06:22</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Keith Smith, 43, Charlotte 3:06:36</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Bryan Allf, 53, Gastonia 3:06:54</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Matthew McGuire, 27, Charlotte 3:07:11</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Tony Brown, 50, Davidson 3:07:12</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Robert Harbaugh, 32, Waxhaw 3:07:22</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sean Mayo, 42, Charlotte 3:08:51</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Andrew Golomb, 31, Charlotte 3:09:02</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Terrance Robinson, 30, Huntersville 3:09:28</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Joshua Pinyan, 28, Salisbury 3:09:41</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Justin McGuinness, 31, Charlotte 3:09:52</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Todd Patterson, 34, Charlotte 3:10:07</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Mark Cox, 41, Charlotte 3:12:18</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Eric Reiner, 38, Charlotte 3:12:43</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Todd Joefreda, 35, Rock Hill 3:12:47</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lee Bradley, 40, Charlotte 3:14:10</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Robert Mooring, 50, Gastonia 3:14:17</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Danielle Crockford, 30, Charlotte 3:14:49</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Brian Sammons, 44, Charlotte 3:15:02</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Robert Macki, 40, Fort Mill3:15:23</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Susan Wallace, 25, Charlotte 3:15:36</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Shenna Kevorkian, 28, Charlotte 3:15:44</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Aregai Girmay, 51, Gastonia 3:16:31</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Richard Heinrich, 48, Mooresville 3:18:55</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Derek Blalock, 42, Albemarle 3:19:11</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Jackie Savage, 31, Charlotte 3:20:26</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Jill Rauso, 39, Concord 3:23:31</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Mark McGeough, 41, Huntersville 3:24:14</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Kay Brugmann, 48, Charlotte 3:24:40</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Mary Dare Mayeux, 34, Charlotte 3:24:57</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lisa Sickman, 23, Fort Mill 3:25:31</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sarah Fox, 35, Charlotte 3:25:51</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Joe Schlereth, 61, Pineville 3:27:54</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Paul Gonzalez, 40, Pineville 3:28:11</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Meredith Byrne, 26, Charlotte 3:29:00</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Elizabeth Randolph, 39, Matthews 3:29:00</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Andrew Quartapella, 46, Charlotte 3:29:48</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Edward Morse, 47, Concord 3:30:31</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Tom Patch, 51, Charlotte 3:33:12</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Johanna Remes, 43, Charlotte 3:33:21</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Colleen Angstadt, 34, Charlotte 3:33:32</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lisa Mire, 31, Charlotte 3:34:00</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Michael Morris, 48, Matthews 3:34:39</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lisa Landrum, 39, Charlotte 3:35:56</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Adrienne Rosenbloom, 43, Charlotte 3:36:13</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Amanda Fleishman, 31, Charlotte 3:37:12</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Frederic Levy, 50, Gastonia 3:37:32</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Timothy Marquardt, 19, Denver 3:38:30</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Henry Ijams, 49, Charlotte 3:39:00</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Kathleen Russo, 51, Salisbury 3:39:19</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Hunter Purdom, 39, Charlotte 3:39:36</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Kimberly Leatherman, 37, Concord 3:39:59</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Richard Belcourt, 52, Waxhaw 3:40:02</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Meredith Dolhare, 37, Charlotte 3:40:18</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lori Dawson, 45, Waxhaw 3:40:33</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Christi Cranford, 42, Charlotte 3:41:07</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sharon Davis, 37, Albemarle 3:41:23</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Laura Centofanti, 29, Charlotte 3:41:30</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Chad Chambers, 35, Charlotte 3:41:39</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Laura Smith, 40, Charlotte 3:42:34</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Rhett Benner, 39, Huntersville 3:42:58</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Brian Ratte, 47, Davidson 3:43:09</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sarah Hart, 39, Huntersville 3:43:28</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Joe Howell, 55, Harrisburg 3:43:43</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Henry Peelle, 55, Mooresville 3:43:45</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Michele Britt, 45, Charlotte 3:43:50</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Naim Bouhussein, 47, Davidson 3:43:56</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Vance Beck, 51, Davidson 3:44:08</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Kristi Harris, 37, Huntersville 3:44:50</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Ken Partel, 62, Troutman 3:45:22</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Susan Watts, 41, Charlotte 3:47:48</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Jeffery Cloninger, 53, Lincolnton 3:47:54</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Robert Jordan, 37, 3:48:40</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Bruce Davis, 54, Matthews 3:49:06</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Douglas Mays, 46, Charlotte 3:51:12</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Beverly Kastel, 41, Huntersville 3:51:45</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Kimberly Eagens, 30, Charlotte 3:52:12</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sarah McGeough, 38, Huntersville 3:52:25</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Julia Engel, 48, Charlotte 3:54:03</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Boriana Bakaltcheva, 25, Charlotte 3:55:19</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Melissa Johnson, 47, Charlotte 3:55:44</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Denise Derkowski, 45, Charlotte 3:57:41</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Justin Andrews, 34, Matthews 3:57:58</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Carolyn Hoopes, 51, Charlotte 3:59:13</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Elizabeth Maner, 46, Charlotte 4:00:16</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Diane Derkowski, 45, Charlotte 4:00:24</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Tamyra Meletiou, 43, Huntersville 4:00:56</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Charlton Armstrong, 34, Charlotte 4:01:25</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Dianne Allen, 55, Charlotte 4:01:42</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Frances Bendert, 40, Mooresville 4:02:05</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Terry Farmer, 62, Charlotte 4:04:59</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sarah Schweppe, 23, Charlotte 4:05:20</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Sharon Cleveland, 55, Waxhaw 4:06:18</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lisa Vogel, 40, Charlotte 4:08:30</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Holly Townsend, 41, Charlotte 4:08:49</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Gregory Foxx, 46, Charlotte 4:12:56</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Lana Torkildsen, 45, Matthews 4:14:03</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Talia DeGennaro, 30, Charlotte 4:19:27</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Tom Torkildsen, 55, Matthews 4:20:16</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Jeffrey Valerio, 49, Fort Mill4:24:18</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Robert Frazer, 30, Charlotte 4:28:21</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Arthur Scott, 51, Mount Holly 4:29:31</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">John Crombez, 45, Charlotte 4:29:39</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Catherine Hunter, 37, Charlotte 4:33:39</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Karen Lamb, 48, Charlotte 4:35:28</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Diana Hoxie, 56, Salisbury 4:45:22</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Brian Foote, 50, Charlotte 4:53:32</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Darryl Taylor, 33, Charlotte 4:55:33</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Eileen O'Flaherty, 48, Davidson 5:13:55</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Brandon Russo, 28, Salisbury 5:20:13</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; "><span class="z_agate_text" style="margin-top: 0px; ">Vinny Yakoobian, 43, Huntersville 5:34:48</span></p></span>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-28364143432238844852011-03-21T15:33:00.006-04:002011-03-22T09:34:58.181-04:00For me, a smoking time at Tobacco RoadAsk running pundits how often you should run a marathon, and you'll get a response along the lines of <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://askcoachjenny.runnersworld.com/2007/06/how-many-marathons-can-you-run-in-a-year.html">this one</a> (from Runner's World contributor Jenny Hadfield):<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Runners who want to race a strong marathon and improve performance and speed should focus on no more than two marathons a year. Running many more than that is pretty hard on the body and mind, increases your risk for injury and slower times are usually the end result. Two per year allows for a full training and recovery cycle to optimize performance and reduce injuries. This is why you don't see the elite runners racing more than two marathons in a year."</span><br /><br />I can only surmise that her advice is good and sound. She's got a master's in exercise science, is a certified personal trainer and coach, and has authored books on running. I'm a moron who three years ago probably couldn't have run a 9-minute mile without collapsing onto the asphalt.<br /><br />This isn't a "So THERE!" moment, but for those keeping score at home: On Sunday morning I ran my eighth marathon (Tobacco Road in Cary, N.C.) in less than a year and a half; since running a 3:43 in San Diego last June, I have lopped about 22 minutes off my best time; I've had no injuries to speak of; I don't feel like I'm suffering from burnout.<br /><br />Well, OK -- I guess it <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> a So THERE! moment.<br /><br />Again, though, I have no leg to stand on. I'm no expert. I just a doofus who signs up for stuff and then goes out and runs. Maybe I could be even faster and stronger and more efficient if I was running 26.2 once every six months instead of once every two. Maybe I'm doing long-term damage to my body that I won't know about till I need to get both knees replaced when I'm 55.<br /><br />It's an interesting topic, though. I have a friend, Todd Hartung, who's <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.50statesmarathonclub.com/50dc/index.html">going after all 50 states</a> and runs a marathon roughly once a month. His philosophy is that sometimes runners set challenging goals for the one or two marathons they do a year, stress out over the training mightily, then agonize if they have a bad race. He would never recommend his regimen to others, but he does believe that the more marathons you run, the less mentally stressful they become. Plus, you don't put all your eggs in one basket. In other words, if he has a bad race, he can easily put it behind him a few weeks later -- as opposed to letting it roll around in his head for the next year.<br /><br />Now, I fully understand that not everyone can afford to run a ton of marathons, and that not everyone <span style="font-style: italic;">wants</span> to. But my point is simply that I was able to view Tobacco Road on Sunday as "just another marathon" -- and I was able to crush it.<br /><br />Didn't train particularly hard for this one. Did a couple of 20-milers late last month in anticipation of doing a marathon in late March, but didn't actually sign up for the race until two weeks ago. Didn't even look at a course map beforehand.<br /><br />I ran a 3:26 in October and a 3:28 in December, then ran a 50k in January. It was just time for another one.<br /><br />My BQ time, for a few more months, is 3:15:59 or faster. Though I figured that that was still out of reach for me, I decided a week out that maybe I'd try to run Boston pace (7:28 per mile) until the wheels fell off, simply as a fitness test. And this is the whole reason why I used all those words up above as a setup: <b>It was just another marathon</b>. There was nothing at stake. I didn't spend a lot of time or money on this race, and if I had to take a DNF, I wasn't going to get all worked up about it.<br /><br />Anyway, forgive the anticlimactic nature of what I'm about to say, but for the most part I bailed on this idea in the starting corral. Instead, I just gave myself one simple directive: <span style="font-style: italic;">Be aggressive, B-E aggressive.</span> Last two marathons, I ran conservatively and finished with gas in the tank. This time, I hoped to cross the line with nothing left.<br /><br />The Tobacco Road Marathon is now two years old, and experienced fairly significant growth in its second year thanks to good word of mouth (including high marks <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.marathonguide.com/races/racedetails.cfm?MIDD=3392100321">here</a>). Numbers for Sunday's full weren't too far below numbers for Charlotte's Thunder Road Marathon, which is now in its seventh year. (1,292 ran Charlotte in December; 1,052 ran Cary this past weekend.)<br /><br />It's easy to see why it's popular: <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.tobaccoroadmarathon.com/index.php?action=page&page_id=19">The course</a> is flat, is mostly on the forgiving packed dirt and finely crushed gravel of American Tobacco Trail, and for many miles follows a dead-straight/turn-free path. (Another interesting fact: Nineteen runners broke three hours at Thunder Road, 28 were under 3:00 at Tobacco Road.)<br /><br />If you clicked on the link in the previous paragraph and looked at the course for the full, you also can see that it doubles back on itself twice. This is cool because if you have friends running it -- and I had several -- you could exchange high-fives and "good job!" comments with them multiple times along the way. This is for obvious reasons both motivating and fun.<br /><br />Weather on Sunday was perfect. 40s at the start, 50s at the finish. The entire trail is lined with trees, so save for the last couple miles, wind and sun were virtually non-issues. The only problem with the 20+ miles of trail is that it's pleasant and serene, it's also pretty boring. A road crossing every few miles with a small but vocal throng of supporters. Otherwise, a bazillion trees, and not much more. Sometimes it seemed like you could see a mile down the trail (although, wouldn't you know it, the mile marker always seemed to be just around a slight bend).<br /><br />Really the only thing to look at was other runners. So that's what I did. And for the first three miles, leading from the USA Baseball National Training Complex to the trail, I looked at the back of <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://obsruntheoden.blogspot.com/2009/07/who-can-run-100-mile-race-this-guy.html">Jonathan Savage</a>'s head. He was pace leader for the 3:30 group, and he'd announced beforehand that he planned to take his charges through the half at a 7:53 average pace, slowing at that point to 8:00. I figured three 7:53 miles would be a good warmup, so I tucked in with his group. (Runner congestion was so heavy for the first three miles anyway that I didn't have much trouble holding myself back.)<br /><br />Less than a mile and a half in we started needing to dodge a lot of folks walking the half marathon (they'd started 15 minutes earlier); fortunately, the halfers and full marathoners went in opposite directions at the trail head. Right after the split, I surged past Jonathan and never looked back.<br /><br />I wish I had some exciting things to say about the next 20 miles, but it was really just a long series of dime-store race "tactics" to help me break up the monotony of the scenery and terrain: I'd find a runner, sit right on their shoulder for maybe 400-800 meters, then move past them to focus on the next runner. I did this dozens of times, and only got passed by a few people. (The most memorable was a Galloway run-walk dude who passed me probably close to a dozen times. I commend anyone for running any marathon in any fashion, but between you and me I found it mildly annoying to overtake/be overtaken by the same person repeatedly and methodically.)<br /><br />The fun part, as I said, was seeing many of my friends twice along the way. Kelly Fillnow (she was the women's winner!), Mo Campbell (she broke 3 hours for the first time!), Bobby Aswell, Kathy Rink, Troy Eisenberger, Bobby Grigg, Jamie Dodge, Peter Balletta, and Mark Ulrich (who was a huge personal help to me this weekend -- he picked up my packet since I missed the expo, and saved me an hour-plus of tedium by shuttling me to and from the satellite parking lot pre- and post-race).<br /><br />Beginning shortly after the first turnaround at Mile 8, I spent the next couple hours alternating between confidence and concern. A few of my splits were in the 7:28 (i.e. BQ range), so I fleetingly wondered if I should go for it. I also worried at Miles 11 and 12 when I started feeling the first very-mild pangs of fatigue.<br /><br />After seven marathons, I've generally found that if I don't hit the wall around Mile 20, I'm not going to. I have no scientific proof that this follows any logic whatsoever and I would never try to convince you that this will hold true for you. But personally, I was really antsy to get to 20 so I could see how I felt. I came through the half at 1:39:38. That was the split I was looking for. My friend Brian Sammons qualified for Boston by going 1:40 for the first half and then 1:35 for the second.<br /><br />The confidence returned. And then it started fading again. So I refocused on my energy on locking onto a runner ahead of me, easing onto his or her shoulder, hanging there for a couple minutes, then overtaking them. Around Mile 16, I keyed in on an older woman who was wearing a bright Cowtown Marathon finisher tee and looked strong, and she was slowly picking people off, so I hitched a ride with her through the second turnaround. Finally passed her as we went up a long, gradual incline near Mile 21.<br /><br />My goal was to not get passed in the final 6.2 miles. At this point I was satisfied I was going to avoid a bonk, and was feeling tired but OK as we moved back onto surface streets just after Mile 23. There was a little roll to this final section, and there were some turns to negotiate. The sun was also giving off some heat. A bit of a breeze now, too. Nothing killer at all, but after so much peace on the trail, it inserted a degree of difficulty.<br /><br />This is the point where you start to break the marathon up into smaller increments in your head. Mile 24 = I've just gotta go eight times around the track plus the point-two. Cowtown Marathon woman comes surging past me. And now it's one foot in front of the other time. I'm also -- and I know others out there use the same "trick" -- thinking about friends and family who've battled cancer and people suffering great tragedies (like the Japanese tsunami victims right now). Thinking that what they've had to deal with is real pain, that this is child's play. In other words,<span style="font-style: italic;"> Suck It Up.</span><br /><br />Mile 24 was 7:57, and though it was my slowest mile of the day, I'm happy because I've run several marathons where my <span style="font-style: italic;">average </span>pace wasn't that fast.<br /><br />I keep my Garmin on the Virtual Partner screen, which tells me how far or behind my hoped-for pace I am, so as I neared the final turn into the parking lot of the baseball complex, I honestly was not at all sure what numbers I was going to see on the clock. I knew I had a big PR, but sensed I could be flirting with the teens -- so there was a twinge of disappointment when I came around and the display read 3:20 and rising. But that disappointment disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.<br /><br />3:20:43. This was a six-minute PR. This was 29 minutes faster than the first marathon I ran, in November of 2009. This was an aggressive move on my part after a couple races where I wanted to run smooth and steady and finish feeling strong.<br /><br />This, to me, was a clear sign that I can run a bunch of marathons a year, and get away with it. So there.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>----------------------------------------------------</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>If splits interest you, here they are:</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 1: 8:03</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 2: 7:35</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 3: 7:53</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 4: 7:24</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 5: 7:34</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 6: 7:27</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 7: 7:28</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 8: 7:42</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 9: 7:39</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 10: 7:17</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 11: 7:31</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 12: 7:38</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 13: 7:37</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 14: 7:27</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 15: 7:36</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 16: 7:30</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 17: 7:36</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 18: 7:31</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 19: 7:40</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 20: 7:32</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 21: 7:30</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 22: 7:32</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 23: 7:38</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 24: 7:57</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 25: 7:47</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Mile 26: 7:53</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Homestretch: 7:43</i></span></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-47656353715558631522011-02-21T09:43:00.002-05:002011-02-21T09:54:02.445-05:00Asana Activewear is closingAsana Activewear -- a SouthPark retailer focused on fitness, yoga, pilates, and running since 2007 -- will close its doors for good within the next month.<br /><br />In an e-mail, co-founder/co-owner Gary Schwake wrote: "It was a tough decision, but ultimately the best given the circumstances." <div><br /></div> <div>Schwake says the store will stay open for another two to three weeks, during which time he'll try to sell its remaining inventory. Prices are currently 50 percent to 80 percent off.</div> <div><br /></div> <div>Also, Schwake said that "the intellectual property of Asana ... the brand, websites (both local and e-commerce) and 5,000-person customer list" are available for purchase. "The structure of the sale will enable the buyer to re-open the store in any location they choose." If interested, e-mail Gary at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="mailto:gary@AsanaActivewear.com">gary@AsanaActivewear.com</a></span>.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="mailto:gary@AsanaActivewear.com"><br /></a></span></div> <div></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-19385592873967194212011-01-11T13:25:00.002-05:002011-01-10T13:28:28.655-05:00Review: 'Hood to Coast' worthy of a toast<div>The very first scene in the movie will stick with you long after "Hood to Coast" ends.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's the dead of night, you can hear only heavy footfalls and labored breathing, then a middle-aged female runner appears alone in the darkness. Behind her, a couple of dots of lights jiggle and gain ground quickly. Almost without warning, a lithe young man blitzes past her like she's standing still.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Whoa!" she says, to no one in particular.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's an amazing bit of atmosphere, and sets the stage the stage for the next 100 minutes, which follow four of the more than 1,000 12-person teams that competed in the 2008 Hood to Coast.<span><span> Held annually in Oregon in August, the race spans 197 miles -- from</span></span> Timberline Lodge on Mt. Hood, elevation 6,000 feet, to a coastal city aptly named Seaside -- and is the world's most popular relay race.</div><div><br /></div><div>If there's any question as to whether this is worth the $13 asking price for individual tickets to the Charlotte screenings on Tuesday night, hopefully I can lay them to rest. Director <span style="font-weight: bold; ">Christoph Baaden</span><span>,</span> a University of North Carolina at Greensboro alumnus, and his wife and producing partner <b>Anna Campbell</b> have created an absolute gem of a sports documentary.</div><div><br /></div><div>The featured teams were well-chosen: There are the Dead Jocks, old pros who provide context and comic relief; Thunder 'n Laikaning, the goofball team of slacker-underachievers who provide comic relief (one: "I think what we should do is train as little as possible, like don't do any training, just drink and eat and do no training, and then if we do accomplish the race, all the better"); Heart -N- Sole, a group of older women; and Team R-Bowe, consisting of the family and friends of a young man who died of a rare heart attack a month before the previous year's Hood to Coast.</div><div><br /></div><div>Stars emerge, including Jason and Rachel (of the slacker-underachievers), who before the race could barely run three miles, and Kathy, a veteran of 75 marathons who had triple-bypass surgery after collapsing and nearly dying during her third leg at the 2007 H2C. Several members of Team R-Bowe also stand out. (A warning to those who cry easily: bring tissues. Some of the interviews with the mom, dad, brother, and widow are heartbreaking, and may catch you off-guard.)</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px; font-family:arial, helvetica, 'MS Reference Sans Serif';font-size:14px;"><span><span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>But the real star is the event itself. The footage is phenomenal, thanks to crews both on the ground and in the air, and to camera operators with street cred (one is a veteran of TV series like "NCIS" and "JAG," another worked on Michael Moore's "Sicko"). On a good-sized HDTV, Mount Hood looks amazing, the brief glimpses of Portland make the city sparkle -- the scenery in general is breathtaking, and will be absolutely stunning on the big screen. If you've never been to the Northwest, you likely will want to after seeing this film.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>"Hood to Coast" is a celebration of camaraderie, of teamwork, of support groups, of fortitude, of doing more than you thought you were capable of. It's somewhat similar to 2007's "Spirit of the Marathon" -- following diverse subjects, building up to big race, providing perspective afterward -- but is cut together more interestingly, more smoothly paced, and just much more polished in general. You always have a clear sense of where each team is at in the race and what's at stake.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>You'll also marvel at the immense logistical challenges the race must present to the organizers, and I'll bet you lunch that by the end, you'll be at least halfway considering putting a team together for at least the Blue Ridge Relay, if not the actual H2C (which already was difficult to get into but now will be generating even more interest).</div><div><br /></div><div>I've never run a relay myself, although it's safe to say people who have will appreciate the film even more. At the same time, my wife -- who is not a distance runner and who generally would be absorbed in the iPad while a movie like this was on at home -- was engaged throughout the whole thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's actually what makes "Hood to Coast" a success, in my mind. On the surface, it would seem to be a movie about running, for runners; it <i>is</i> that, of course, and I can't imagine a runner who will come away from this unsatisfied. But I think it will very quickly creep up on non-runners, too -- like a lithe young man who comes up from behind in the darkness, it could surprise the heck out of them.</div><div><br /></div><div>- - - - - - - -</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On Tuesday night, "Hood to Coast" will screen in 360 theaters nationwide, including AMC Concord Mills 24 in Concord and Stonecrest 22 @ Piper Glen at Charlotte. Tickets are $13.50 in advance for </span></i><a href="http://www.movietickets.com/pre_purchase.asp?house_id=6562&movie_id=106513&showdate=6"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the Concord Mills screening</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> and $13.75 in advance for </span></i><a href="http://www.fandango.com/hoodtocoastevent_139163/movietimes?tid=AAIXY&wssac=58&wssaffid=11551_NationalCineMedia%28NCM%29&date=01/11/2011"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the Piper Glen show</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. (AMC and Regal use different online-ticketing agencies.) The NCM Fathom Entertainment event also will feature a "live red carpet" from Portland, Ore., and a pre-taped panel with celebrities from the running world shot at Nike headquarters. Total running time is said to be 2 hours, 20 minutes. For more information about the event, click </span></i><a href="http://www.hoodtocoastmovie.com/index.html"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">here</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></i></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-46243698227959168262010-12-21T09:41:00.018-05:002010-12-22T10:23:39.060-05:00And Charlotte's Runner of the Year is ...There are several very good runners in and around Charlotte who have done lots of great things to make the running community in this city better, faster, stronger.<br /><br />So when you sit down to figure out who’s most deserving of recognition, the first thing your head does … is explode. It’s just very hard – even after weighing all the evidence and giving dozens of different people long, careful thought – to narrow down the list, to pick a certain individual over another.<br /><br />Last year, I picked one person as my Runner of the Year and then named two honorable mentions. This year, in a celebration of wishy-washiness, I’ve selected five honorable mentions (encompassing eight people; read on to see how I pulled off that trick), and decided to go with two people in the top spot.<br /><br />It’s not a huge stretch, though, to lump Larry and Kathy Seavers together. As one nominator put it, “they really are a package deal.”<br /><br />Even those who don’t personally know the husband-and-wife team have probably noticed them out at local races because – well, frankly, it’s because Larry and Kathy are obviously older, and you just don’t see that many older runners out there (Larry is 66; Kathy turned 65 last Saturday). At least, not older runners who are as fast, as consistent, as prolific, as friendly, as social, as supportive, and as upbeat as they are.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC94SVWDpI/AAAAAAAACDc/TMLl3EtJGf4/s1600/larryandkathy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC94SVWDpI/AAAAAAAACDc/TMLl3EtJGf4/s400/larryandkathy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553147115239509650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Photo by Bill Weimer<br /></span></div><br />Larry – instantly recognizable in his dark sunglasses and a Boston Red Sox ballcap that covers a shock of white hair – ran 33 races in 2010, winning his age group 13 times and posting times that are quick for any age. (He ran a 23:56 at the Cupid’s Cup 5k last February, for example, and – most recently – a 1:58:48 at the Kiawah Island Half Marathon). Kathy, meanwhile, completed 18 races and got age-group wins in 14 of them, including at the Santa Scramble 5k in Concord last month (24:30).<br /><br />In almost any other year, Kathy and Larry would have run a roughly equal number of races. But Kathy began the year recovering from a femoral fracture she suffered in October 2009. She slowly eased back into running, but while doing hill work last winter, she sustained another injury: An MRI revealed that she had four bones broken internally in her hip area, a result of osteopenia and osteoporosis.<br /><br />While others her age might have decided to retire from the sport, Kathy just waited patiently for the healing process to take place. In early May, she decided that she wanted to try to compete in the Run For Your Life Grand Prix Series. Three of the 10 series races had already been run, and she would have to miss one of the remaining seven. She needed to run six to qualify for awards … and she did just that. She walked the Great Harvest Bread Co. 5k in 54:04 and did the remaining five GPx races, improving with each one. Despite playing catch-up all season, she finished third in the rankings for her age group.<br /><br />One nominator wrote: “Most people with broken bones would be sitting on the couch watching TV. Not Kathy Seavers. As soon as she could walk again, she was back on the 5k scene this past spring. She couldn't even run yet, but was crossing the finish line and clearly having fun. And those few races she actually had to miss? I wonder how sick Larry got of answering, ‘Where’s Kathy?’”<br /><br />Both Larry and Kathy are active members of the Charlotte Running Club and the Charlotte Track & Triathlon Club. They volunteer at road races and triathlons, which is something all of us should do but most of us don’t. They helped Lois’ Lodge – which provides support for women experiencing unplanned pregnancies – become a beneficiary of Run For Your Life’s Run For Your Cause race last summer. And they are amazing cheerleaders.<br /><br />“When you’re at one of Larry and Kathy’s races, you can count on seeing them making the rounds before the race, and then doing it again long after everyone’s finished,” a nominator wrote. “They don’t hop in their car and go. They wait to congratulate everyone, and ask they how they are doing. You can tell that people are always excited to see them. But this sort of support isn’t limited to the starting line and the post-race party. Spend some time trolling the running community on Facebook. Whether it’s a ‘congratulations/good luck on your out-of-town marathon’ or a ‘hope that knee gets better,’ Larry and Kathy are keeping up and genuinely caring about the goals, accomplishments and roadblocks of their running friends.”<br /><br />(To put this all into a little bit of context, my 67-year-old father stopped running 25 years ago and doesn’t “get” Facebook.)<br /><br />Says another Larry and Kathy fan: “They are the most supportive couple ever. If they are out of town for two weeks, they still find the time to look up results from the past two weekends and to congratulate their fellow running friends on their accomplishments. Also, they are pretty much what every runner should aspire to be; they love running just as much as they did when they ran their first steps who knows how many years ago.”<br /><br />(Kathy began running in 1983 after she quit smoking; Larry took up the sport around 1985. They also, by the way, love cheering for each other. Says Kathy of her husband of nearly 42 years: “Larry is my best supporter. Always looking out for me, always encouraging me. He gets behind me in all the races at the start to make sure I don’t trip or that no one bumps into me.”)<br /><br />I’m not saying there aren’t others out there who are ultra-supportive, or fast for their age, or adept at using Facebook. What I <span style="font-style: italic;">am </span>saying is this: If you get to your mid-60s and you’re still as vocal and as passionate and as positive about the sport as Larry and Kathy Seavers are, if you’re still running dozens of races a year and finishing with a smile on your face every time, if you make an effort to befriend the plodders as well as the elites … please, drop me a note and I’ll make sure you get an award, too.<br /><br />Simply put, their love of the sport is pure and without agenda.<br /><br />Says Larry: “Kathy loves running because it is great exercise and fun. She loves racing because she gets to see great friends and meets new ones every week. … For me, a race each week is like some who enjoy meeting their foursome to play golf each Saturday. It’s an opportunity to meet friends who you enjoy, and to compete against them and others. In racing, you see a different course each week. Each event benefits a great cause. There is wonderful food, prizes and great friendship. What could be better?”<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Honorable Mentions</span></span><br /><br />----------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ashley Armistead and Lori Klingman</span></span><br />In less than three years, the duo behind Let Me Run – sometimes referred to as “Girls on the Run for boys” – have turned a dream of empowering boys through running into a reality. The program started as one fledgling after-school club in the spring of 2008; today, Armistead (founder and president) and Klingman (vice president) are projecting that 400 fourth-, fifth- and sixth-grade boys will participate next spring. Wrote one nominator: “Ashley and Lori have devoted countless hours to teaching boys about having confidence in themselves, experiencing the joy of setting goals and accomplishing them, and embracing healthy lifestyles.” Clearly, it’s an idea whose time has come: The nonprofit organization is fielding calls or e-mails almost daily from people inquiring about how to get a program in their school. In the coming year, Klingman says they’ll be developing an expansion plan that will help Let Me Run go nationwide. Both women are strong runners, too: Klingman, 37, ran a 3:59:40 at the Marine Corps Marathon in October (“It was most definitely not my best marathon, but I enjoyed the journey more than I ever had in the past”), while Armistead, 41, nailed a Boston-qualifying time of 3:50:09 this month. She did it at Thunder Road in Charlotte, where a band of boisterous Let Me Run boys manned an unforgettable water stop at Mile 14.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC-VASziOI/AAAAAAAACDk/R00hYve0t0A/s1600/ashleyandlori.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC-VASziOI/AAAAAAAACDk/R00hYve0t0A/s400/ashleyandlori.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553147608613226722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Armistead and Klingman<br /></span></div>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bevin Jett </span></span><br />With lots of tender loving care, Jett has in just three short years helped the Charlotte Runners Meetup Group grow from a handful of people into the biggest running group in Charlotte – so big that today she enlists the help of 10 assistant organizers. Together they organize a wide variety of regular group runs, and Jett personally hosts the city’s largest weekly group run, a Thursday-night event that routinely draws several dozen runners (the growth of the event prompted a recent move from tiny Common Market in Plaza Midwood to The Philosopher’s Stone in Elizabeth). Wrote one nominator: “She injects more fun into a simple weekly four-mile run than I ever thought possible.” Another noted that “along with the regular weekly runs, Bevin will sprinkle in themed runs during the year for a change of pace – for example, we had over 100 runners in costume for the Halloween run, with prizes going to different categories … and none of them were for fast people.” The 48-year-old mother of two teenagers led contingents of Meetup members at events like Miles of Mooresville, the 24 Hours of Booty cycling event, and the Marine Corps Marathon; she also qualified for Boston 2012 with a 3:52:13 at Thunder Road. Yet none of this has gone to her head. Says Jett: “Even today I still find other runners a bit intimidating. They always look so much cooler, faster, and skinnier than me. … I can only wonder what it must be like for someone just starting out and trying to run, especially someone who maybe has always been told all his or her life for one reason or another that they can’t run. I don’t want to be the runner who scares people off when I tell them I have run a marathon; I want to have them believing they can run a marathon, too.”<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC-rg9PzQI/AAAAAAAACDs/t7BStqZ9B0A/s1600/bevin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC-rg9PzQI/AAAAAAAACDs/t7BStqZ9B0A/s400/bevin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553147995338296578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Photo by Kai Linn<br /></span></div>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chad Randolph</span></span><br />With his Davidson Area Running Team, the 45-year-old has inspired and unified both serious and casual runners in Davidson (and the surrounding areas) in a way in which no other suburban city has been able to. A strong Facebook presence and cool-looking team T-shirts have helped, but the group’s success primarily is the result of Randolph’s ambassadorship. Says one nominator: “He organizes people to go to races, and then drives them there and back. He blogs running. He takes runners – no matter how fast or slow – and encourages them and sticks with them on DART runs to just talk running.” You might also see him filling in from time to time at Run For Your Life, or at small marathons and ultras around the region (this year he ran the Iron Horse 100k in Florahome, Fla., the Gator Trail 50k in Wilmington, the Bethel Hill Moonlight Boogie 50-Miler, and the Ridge to Bridge Marathon, among others). A stress fracture has him laid up at the moment, but he still showed up at the Elf 5K in Mt. Mourne Saturday on crutches, and cheered in runners in the freezing cold until the last one finished. Oh, and did we mention he's completed numerous loong races – including a marathon and that 50k – in a pair of Vibram FiveFingers?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC_Vc6GIeI/AAAAAAAACD0/gO3ljuc4QdM/s1600/chad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC_Vc6GIeI/AAAAAAAACD0/gO3ljuc4QdM/s400/chad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553148715805843938" border="0" /></a><br />----------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tim Rhodes</span></span><br />Simply put, “Tim is the reason we have a racing series and a local marathon,” says one nominator. The 49-year-old owner of Run For Your Life also ran some excellent races, including a 3:07:51 at the Route 66 Marathon in Tulsa last month and a 4:50:16 at the Augusta 70.3 Half Ironman earlier in the fall. (He’ll do his first full Ironman, in Wisconsin, next year.) But it’s the behind-the-scenes work that landed him on this list. Under his direction, Run For Your Life made charitable contributions of more than $100,000 once again, providing aid to everything from a homeless men’s ministry to a local community school for impoverished girls. He and his wife Robin are closely involved with Samaritan’s Feet, donating approximately 100 pairs of shoes per week to needy children in Western Africa. And this fall, Rhodes was given the Ubuntu Award for “outstanding leadership, commitment, and service to their local community” by Balega, a sock company with a rich South African Heritage. (Ubuntu is an African concept, “a humanistic philosophy focusing on people’s allegiance and relationship to others,” according to Balega.) When asked for 2010 personal highlights, Rhodes mentions his son Grant, who made all-conference as a cross-country star at Mallard Creek High School this year; and his two new adopted children, Rebecca (now 8) and Eli (3), both from Ethiopia. His message for the running community in Charlotte? “Thank you for the privilege of allowing me to do something I absolutely love.”<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC_vvkrhLI/AAAAAAAACD8/HF-PB8Yh1EQ/s1600/tim%2Brhodes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRC_vvkrhLI/AAAAAAAACD8/HF-PB8Yh1EQ/s400/tim%2Brhodes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553149167492891826" border="0" /></a><br /></div>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Aaron Linz, Caitlin Chrisman and Jay Holder</span></span><br />They’re the three people most responsible for the success of the Charlotte Running Club, which now claims more than 400 members – and at 37, 25 and 27, they’re also the youngest people on this list. A case could certainly be made for each of them as individuals. In October, Chrisman qualified for the 2012 U.S. Olympic Trials Marathon with a 2:41:52 at the Twin Cities Marathon – her first-ever 26.2 – cementing her status as the area’s top female runner after also posting wins at shorter distances throughout the year. Linz “does a lot of work behind the scenes to continue the growth of the club, while juggling work, family and training,” as one nominator points out; he’s also well-known for riding his bike up and down the street during major local races while screaming himself hoarse in support of, well, everyone. Holder spends hours putting together what has to be the most informative and best-looking running club newsletter in the Carolinas, if not the entire Southeast. (Linz and Holder both set PRs at the marathon distance in Boston, then did it again at the Richmond Marathon in November, with marks of 2:41:32 and 2:40:28, respectively). But the three of them together have made the club tick, putting good people in the right positions on the board of directors; using their own money to front the costs for things like the official club tees worn by many members at local races; staging successful fundraisers (a “Run for Haiti” early in the year raised more than $1,500 for the Red Cross) and wild social events; and – when their competitive fires are ignited – fielding incredibly fast and talented teams at races like the Blue Ridge Relay (mixed division winners) and the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler (mixed competition winners here, too). The long-term goal? Says Linz: “We want the club to take on a life of its own so that 10 years from now, when Jay is a big-time TV producer in New York, and Caitlin is living on a vegan farm in California, and I'm attempting to break all Larry Seavers' age-group times, we will be proud of what we helped start.” They appear to be on the right track.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRDAScaeSkI/AAAAAAAACEE/QSX-52nuy7c/s1600/crc%2Bfounders.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TRDAScaeSkI/AAAAAAAACEE/QSX-52nuy7c/s400/crc%2Bfounders.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553149763645229634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Holder, Chrisman and Linz<br /></span></div>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3349528968660309588.post-53459146187946554012010-12-14T11:43:00.016-05:002010-12-14T22:19:28.176-05:00The story of my 2010 Thunder Road Marathon<div>Splits often tell a story, and can shed plenty of light on how someone's marathon went. So, here are my splits from last Saturday's <b>Thunder Road Marathon</b> in Charlotte, according to my Garmin GPS watch:</div><div><br /></div>Mile 1: 8:00<br /><div>Mile 2: 8:03</div><div>Mile 3: 7:50</div><div>Mile 4: 7:53</div><div>Mile 5: 7:55</div><div>Mile 6 7:40</div><div>Mile 7: 7:54</div><div>Mile 8: 7:58<br /></div><div>Mile 9: 7:51</div><div>Mile 10: 7:52</div><div>Mile 11: 7:51</div><div>Mile 12: 7:58<br /></div><div>Mile 13: 8:00</div><div>Mile 14: 7:57</div><div>Mile 15: 7:53</div><div>Mile 16: 7:52</div><div>Mile 17: 7:53</div><div>Mile 18: 7:51</div><div>Mile 19: 7:59<br /></div><div>Mile 20: 7:50</div><div>Mile 21: 7:53</div><div>Mile 22: 7:54</div><div>Mile 23: 7:50</div><div>Mile 24: 7:52</div><div>Mile 25: 7:56</div><div>Mile 26: 7:39</div><div>Last 0.2 miles: 1:30</div><div><br /></div><div>But that, obviously, is not the whole story.</div><div><br /></div><div>A simple race recap certainly tells a story, and can shed plenty of light on how someone's marathon went. So, here is a simple race recap that describes how I did and felt Saturday:</div><div><br /></div><div>I made it to the start line in plenty of time -- unlike last year, when I had trouble squeezing into the corral at the last minute -- and felt comfortable practically from the moment I broke into full stride, thanks to well-rested legs and good, cold running weather (just the way I like it). I was able to lock into a pace that hovered a few seconds under 8:00, hitting the 10k split at 49:37 and the half at 1:44:23, according to the official timing company. At about Mile 18, I still felt reasonably good and decided that if I could hold pace for a few more miles, I'd have broken through any wall and would easily come in under my goal of 3:30. (In my experience, if you haven't hit it by Mile 22, you're home-free.) At Mile 20, I started counting people as I passed them.</div><div><br /></div><div>At Mile 22, I felt tired but not depleted and my legs felt heavier but not trashed, so I increased my effort level to compensate and everything evened out so I could stay in the 7:50s pace-wise. At Mile 25, I decided to pick up the pace as much as I could, and when the finish line came into sight with a little less than 400 meters to go, I tried to start kicking. I immediately had to back off when I felt a tiny bit of rippling in my right hamstring, and then -- two seconds later -- in my right calf. I didn't want to have to pull up with a full cramp in front of the largest crowd on the course, so I gave up on any hope of a sprint and settled for a hard gallop. Right before crossing, I counted my 40th passing victim; meanwhile, only two runners had overtaken me in the final 6.2 miles. Official time: 3:28:16.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>But that's not the whole story either. The whole story that I have to tell is, unfortunately, a mess. It's a jumble of thoughts and images and moments and people, but I'm hoping if I spit them all out here, there'll be at least one or two good takeaways and you won't feel like you've wasted your time reading this.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>The first thing I need to say is that Thunder Road is not a great event. Race director Tim Rhodes is a very smart guy with a huge passion for the sport, the course is challenging but fair, and given that there's a pretty sizable half marathon and a huge 5k going on on the same morning, it's a pretty well-organized race. But the city doesn't embrace the event as it should, media coverage is almost non-existent, and -- minor quibble -- the "Thunder Road" theme seems to be more of an afterthought every year. (Remember in 2008 when there were race cars at certain mile markers? I also was surprised that we didn't see a band along the route until <i>after</i> the half marathoners had split off around Mile 12, despite the fact that live music is often touted in TR advertising.)</div><div><br /></div><div>At the same time, I believe in this race. I will run it every year I am able. It's not great, no, but it's certainly good -- and I am confident it will get better. Furthermore, I don't think I've ever had more fun during a race than I did last Saturday, and I think locals who refuse to run Thunder Road because they feel it's too lame or too hilly are missing out in a big way. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Charlotte has one of the closest-knit running communities of any major U.S. city. I have no factual basis, no leg to stand on in making this claim, but unless other cities have someone <a href="http://www.facebook.com/runwiththeoden">doing what we're doing on Facebook</a>, I think it's a pretty safe bet. I can't take full credit. I just post stuff, then sit back and watch you guys turn it into something. But the social network we've created is unifying individuals and groups and factions in a way that is truly mind-blowing. I hear from runners all the time who've struck up friendships with people after being connected via comments on my page.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is why Thunder Road is so much fun, and this is why I would encourage anyone who feels connected to the Charlotte running community to run it (or come out and cheer for it) every single year. The New York City Marathon -- which I've run, and it <i>is</i> a great event -- has a huge amount of diversity and jaw-droppingly large crowds. But while they're energizing, they can also be overwhelming. And in my book, quality beats quantity.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Saturday, I could hear Charlotte Running Club chairman Aaron Linz screaming himself hoarse as he madly pedaled his bike past us on Fourth Street -- "YEAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! GO, GO, GO, GO!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! WOOOOOOOO!!!!" (not a direct quote, but you get the idea). Having sufficiently warmed up, I could toss my Under Armour cap to Jade Laughlin at the turn onto Colville after Mile 2, where she was cheering with Kati Robertson, Emily Barrett and Dalida Amalean -- and I could look down and see where the women had written my name and the names of many others in big chalky letters on the asphalt.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQedZiKzZ_I/AAAAAAAACDM/bmviPGewfr8/s1600/chalk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQedZiKzZ_I/AAAAAAAACDM/bmviPGewfr8/s400/chalk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550578127751833586" border="0" /></a></div><div>I could spot my amazing family -- my beautiful wife Amanda and my adorable daughter Joie -- from hundreds of yards away (this still gives me a lump in my throat every time, after six marathons); they were sitting on the corner of 35th and The Plaza, between Miles 21 and 22, waiting to give me high-fives and to wish me well. I could raise my arms triumphantly at the sight of Bob Heck standing in the back of his truck at about 24.5, shooting photos and blasting hip-hop out of his totally '80s boom box, which I swear is bigger than him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Familiar faces were EVERYWHERE. There's Denise Derkowski and Holly Townsend. There's Cheryl Ryan. There's Clinton Fisher. Kara Pettie with her fiance, Adam Vincent; Kara jumps in and runs a little with me. Hey, it's Karen Graboski with her little girl! Dan Barker. Audra Hausser. Dalida, Emily, Kati and Jade again. Denise and Holly again, with Denise's sister Diane (high fives!). Mark Ulrich with his kid. Tracy Rabon. My boss, Mike Weinstein ... then again a mile later, with his wife Kathy. Audra again. Troy Lee. Stephanie Sawyer. Kara jumps in again (she's there helping several runners get over imposing Hawthorne Hill in Mile 24). Allison Vail. Dan Barker again. Tim Friederichs in his fatigues! Peter Asciutto, owner of Vac & Dash in Albemarle, shouting way louder than I realized he was capable. And I think that's Jason Blackwood over there -- we've never met in person, but that's gotta be him...</div><div><br /></div><div>This list would be twice as long if I had a better memory. But this is the difference between a race like New York and your hometown race.</div><div><br /></div><div>(By the way: Some of you may not believe this, but plenty of runners out there know as many people as I do. If you don't? Make a concerted effort to become a part of this great running community, and by the time Thunder Road is back, on Nov. 12, 2011, you too can have an experience like this. It's easier than it sounds -- I swear. A good running group and some Facebook maintenance and upkeep go a looong way.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Now a few shout-outs to some people who ran with me.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Katie Hines</b>. We'd never met before, but had become Facebook friends after adopting the same marathon training plans in the fall (me for Ridge to Bridge, her for Outer Banks). For Saturday, she indicated she wanted to run the half at about the same pace I hoped to run the full at. Katie stayed with me till the cutoff at Mile 12, and then -- since she was trying to get in 20 for the morning -- rejoined me around Mile 23. She kept me on an incredibly even keel for the first 12 (go back and look at those splits), and provided some great motivation in the late going by saying I looked great even though it was probably a lie. She ran the half in 1:43:58.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Mark Ippolito</b>. Mark and I met at the Davidson half this past fall after being running pen pals for awhile. We've since crossed paths at several races, including Ridge to Bridge, where he BQ'd with a 3:20:33 (six minutes faster than my time there). On Saturday, he came up from behind Katie and I at about Mile 10. He'd said beforehand that he also was shooting for somewhere in the neighborhood of 3:30, but based on his command performance at R2B, I figured he might creep ahead of me and eventually ride off into the sunset. But for the next 16 miles, he never left my side. It's amazing what having someone to run with can do for your psyche, even if there's not much talking going on. There was limited chatter, mostly just checking in on each other, or remarking about the weather or a spectator. But to have someone there who knows your pain and with whom there's an equal give and take ... it's just different and in some ways a little better, I suspect, than having a pacer. (Mark and I crossed together, although his chip time was a few seconds slower at 3:28:23.)</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQec5glIqoI/AAAAAAAACC8/yXXfdpo3XUo/s1600/finish.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQec5glIqoI/AAAAAAAACC8/yXXfdpo3XUo/s400/finish.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550577577569593986" border="0" /></a>That said, there were some great pacers out there. I particularly want to thank <b>Stan Austin</b> and <b>Bjorn Norman</b>, a pair of three-hour marathoners who helped pace the 3:30 group Saturday and -- although they came in a little ahead of schedule -- were incredibly locked in at a 7:57 pace that didn't seem to waver by even a second either way. First saw Stan on Providence Road, and spotted Bjorn in Southend; I never once let them get more than about 100 meters ahead of me after that. Both guys were exceedingly positive and gave me a big final boost by encouraging me to take off when we were about to make the final turn off of McDowell onto MLK Jr. Boulevard. (No, I didn't count them among the 40 people I passed between Mile 20 and the finish. Though if you say it's OK, I will...)</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, I mentioned <b>Kara Pettie</b> jumped in at a couple of points, once on Queens and again on Hawthorne. Many of you know her as the store manager at Run For Your Life-University ... I heard she helped out several others in a similar manner, offering GUs or asking if there was anything else we needed. This goes above and beyond.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQednwnlEaI/AAAAAAAACDU/R3m_5rUeE6c/s1600/hawthorne.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQednwnlEaI/AAAAAAAACDU/R3m_5rUeE6c/s400/hawthorne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550578372148793762" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Me with Katie, Mark, and Kara on Hawthorne.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>It was just a great day, full of great people.</div><div><br /></div><div>I believe the runner's high is real. I don't get there very often, but I got there Saturday during the race. I did things that morning I look back at and go, "What was I thinking?" A goofy running dance for the ladies on Morehead. An exaggerated, leaping high five for my wife and daughter. A geeky "I'm-shooting-at-you-with-two-pistols" things (with some high knee lifts thrown in, the whole thing looking like a college basketball player would do if they'd just dunked on someone) when I saw my boss and his wife among the throng at the makeshift frat house right before Mile 24. More leaping high fives for Bob Heck and Ridge to Bridge buddy Troy Lee on Hawthorne. At other moments, upon seeing friends, I'd raise, outstretch and bob my arms, making me appear as though I was a baby hoping to be picked up.</div><div><br /></div><div>All stuff I've never done in a marathon before with such enthusiasm, or with so big a smile. (Why waste the energy, right?) But all stuff I would love, love, LOVE to do again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, that right there is the whole story ... or as close as I can get.</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQedPKm5o9I/AAAAAAAACDE/7WQVWCwovrs/s1600/smiling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6T2kVa7G_6g/TQedPKm5o9I/AAAAAAAACDE/7WQVWCwovrs/s400/smiling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550577949628539858" border="0" /></a>Theoden Janeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408175935751298067noreply@blogger.com21