It's not the heat, it's the humility

What does it take to knock me twenty minutes off a half marathon goal? Try 80-degree heat and an inordinate amount of humidity.

I was aiming high this past Sunday in Wilmington, NC. I had trained pretty well, and at altitude. I figured my average 7:15-mile would magically shrink down, closer to 7:00 as I dropped in elevation and got pumped up with race-day nerves.

Well, that didn't really pan out. It was a hot beast out there, and I was feeling it, bad, by mile 6. I was moving along at a nice clip...when I was running...
I ended up taking several walking breaks along the course, mostly at water points. I admit this without shame. I'm just happy to have finished, really. My chip time of 1:50:05 earned me 123rd place out of 1,102 finishers. That shows you how much the heat actually affected the entire pack.

Near mile 12, I passed a runner who was just about to collapse. Other runners were first-responders to her aid, telling her to sit down, sit down, as she mumbled incoherently. I felt bad for not stopping, but I had no means of helping her, and I was in a rough spot myself.

By the end of the race, I was thoroughly dehydrated. I did my best to drink enough water/gatorade to refuel, but it took a good 24 hours before I was at 100%. I probably would have done better if I had begun the race fully hydrated. I'm not used to drinking so much, living in a dry climate. That's something to learn from, for my next race.

Looking forward, my next half is going to be in either Key West, Florida (January 31st); or Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (February 13th). Then there's the Shamrock Half Marathon in Virginia Beach, VA in March. Gotta keep on keepin' on-

Take the X-train

I recently moved to Salt Lake City, from over-the-hill and around-the-bend, the sleepy town of Bountiful. I'm right in between a couple of big parks, which are suuuuper nice for my runs. Even better, one park has a little 1.5 mile cedar-chip trail for easy knee days. And that's just what I've been doing - taking it easy. This road to Boston and beyond might take me a little longer than expected. But I'm still trudging along, at a manageable pace. I'm determined not to hurt myself again.

I've also been heading to the gym every other day for some basic elliptical work. It's kind of nice to just rage on there for an hour, watching TV as time flies by. I think my body is grateful for keeping the impact down, giving the knees some TLC.

I'm traveling to Wilmington, North Carolina at the end of this month, for the Battleship North Carolina Half Marathon. This will be State #4 in my quest to complete a half marathon in each US state. I should be able to pull out a sub-1:40:00. Probably won't beat my 1:33:30, but I'll give it a healthy effort.

Running kicks, bonking blows

Failure hits me hard.  I think it's the fact that I don't rely on any type of support group.  So when things go wrong on race day, or in training, the only one there to blame is myself.

I had begun training for the 2009 Ogden Marathon with the full intention of qualifying for Boston.  Boston 2010 or bust, I thought to myself.  Well, I guess I opted for bust this time.  Bonk, Biff, Burn-out, whatever B-word you'd like to use.

I've decided to take another shot at it this year.  It's gonna be a rough road, but I'm changing the way I approach my running, developing a more holistic approach to fitness.  I need to spread out my workout, encompass more than just pounding the pavement.  Because the pavement pounds me right back, and the knees no likey.

For now, I'm rebooting.  Getting back into it.  Trying to find joy in each run, and not just run for this magic number of 3:10:59.  But...ya know, I can still do this.

OMG, Shoes

Trying out new running shoes can be a long, difficult, expensive journey.  I've tried out quite a few different brands and styles over the years.  New Balance, Adidas, Reebok, Nike, Asics, Saucony, I've tried 'em all.  And to be honest, in the end, there hasn't really been much difference.  The Nikes were the only exception, which I felt were way too thin.  Lightweight, but thin.

Whatever I'm wearing, I always seem to just deal.  I hardly notice any change after running in shoes for about a month.

Anyway, I just got some new kicks the other week - a pair of Brooks Switch 2's.  OooOOoooh.  I had heard only good things about Brooks shoes, so I thought I'd finally give them a try.  I've only been out a few times with them, and they're treating me pretty well.  They feel just a little bit clunky, though.  I have a feeling that will go away, though, as I break them in.  Or they break me in.  I feel as though it's really a matter of just getting used to your shoes.  Then you'll hardly notice they're there.

Part of me wants to go back to my last pair, though, a cheap little pair of Saucony's.  And the Asics before those were real nice, too.  We'll see how I feel at the end of this training cycle, when I'm needing new ones.  I might head back to familiar territory, or try something new.

I guess I shouldn't offend the current pair of kicks.  They're sitting right over there in the corner, looking dejected yet hopeful.  And their hopes aren't unfounded!  I've a got 10-mile surprise for 'em tomorrow morning.  At goal pace, no less.

On Coming Back

Coming back to the States was a bit of a culture shock.  Just a bit.  Not like the neon-infused mind trip of seeing Tokyo for the first time, or the butt-burning curry bombardment of New Delhi.  Everything in Utah was just as I remembered, but now I was coming back with a different perspective.  Down and to the left.  Up and to the right.  In the middle, centered, focusing on those little things that I guess I always knew were there.  I just hadn't realized that they were anything of which to make note.

After my first year or so in Japan, I had identified a possible concern about moving back to the US.  Japan had made me...soft.  A bit naive, idealistic.  Happier, more content with the simple pleasures of life.  Unburdened by the struggles of a "normal" American life.  I had completely de-stressed.  And I became afraid of how things might be when I was plunged back into a world with actual adult responsibilities, duties, roles and expectations.

About two months into my return, I had thought I was doing well enough.  That was, until a chance confrontation on a neighborhood run one afternoon in October.  I was running a route through the residential streets of Bountiful.  Nothing too spectacular about this neighborhood.  A lot of hills, which can make things difficult at time; but a good kind of difficult that just takes some getting used to.

As I was running, I saw a couple of kids, maybe 10 years old, playing in a yard across the street about 50 yards ahead of me.  I must have caught their eye, because they began staring.  As I approached, the taller of the two yelled out, "Hey jogger!  Come over here!  We're gonna beat you up!"  And with that, he and his little friend promptly ran away to hide behind a garbage can in the carport.

With a forced smile, I waved as I passed the kids, who I imagine remained hiding behind the family trash can until I was out of sight.  As I mounted the next hill, I came to a stop to catch my breath and gain my bearings.  The hill itself hadn't been too demanding, but I felt as if I were running with a newly donned weight in my chest.  I wiped the sweat from my brow and cupped my hands around ears, which had grown a bit chilly.  Squatting down, I ran my hands through my hair, to the back of my neck and simply sighed.

This encounter was the one thing that got to me upon my return to the States, more than anything else.  I think it was because it so went against that which I had come to cherish and whole-heartedly appreciate on my neighborhood runs in Japan - little Japanese kids, sometimes still in their school uniforms, playfully chasing me and cheering me on to "Fight-o!"  There was never the jeering, taunting or threats runners here can sometimes receive.

It didn't matter that the threat came from a little kid who would've been easily dispatched and kept at bay at arm's length (his flailing fists catching nothing but air, try as he might).  But the fact that children are learning this behavior from somewhere...just bugged me.  Learning that it's okay to accost strangers on the street or other avenues of life.  Learning that there are no consequences for such extreme social interactions.  Learning that people should be singled-out and mocked, just as they are singled-out and praised.  These are inherent traits of our modern American culture.

One thing I've always loved about road races is the sense of community.  Everyone has his or her own personal goals, but there remains a covenant between runners to band together for a common purpose.  Runners are gracious as they are graceful, lucid and aware, ever-mindful of the needs of others.  We may run with different paces, strides, and pronating soles.  We wear different shoes and might tie our laces a little differently, or some of us may not even wear kicks.  But we are all runners, just the same.  And I wish there were a way to get that through that little 10-year old kid's head.

Tread Dread

Gravity has a greater pull on me these days.  With the move back to Utah, change in climate and weather, welcome back indulgences in comfort food and Halloween sweets, I've lost my running form and gained time on my splits.  No good.

There's a challenge at the gym at work this month.

"How fast can you run a mile on the treadmill?"  the posters read, enticing us competitive busy bees to stop pushing paper and start kicking tread.

I tried my hand (or foot) the other day, setting the treadmill for a 6:00/mile pace.  I increased the treadmill incline a bit to simulate actual road running.  I made it about 4 minutes.  Curses.

Oh well, it was my first 1-mile time trial on a treadmill.  I'm sure I'll do better next time.  My goal is to run a 6:00 by the end of November.  Who knows, maybe it was just my nutrition for that one day or lack of stretching or warm-up beforehand.  Or maybe I'm just out of shape.

The Other Half

Four Months is a long time. Things have been happening, though, crazy stuff. It's been hard to keep updating this site. But hey, after a month-long tour of Australia and return to my desert home in Utah, I'm back. More updates soon to follow. I still have to write about my monkey race in Sydney, Australia. But more recently, I ran in The Other Half 13.1 Mile Race in Moab, Utah this past Sunday. This is my all-time favorite run, set near Arches National Park.

My preparation for this race was less than stellar. A good friend and I had trained together, meeting up every Sunday in the two months before the race for a long run. Of course, "long" is a relative term in our great sport. We never ran more than 8 miles together on these Sunday morning excursions. But our time together was great for chit-chatting about the goings-on of our week while getting used to our race pace.  

My friend runs a bit slower than I do, so he was always setting the pace of these runs. We chugged along around a 9:00/mile pace each time. This is slower than my usual 7:30-8:00/mile pace, but 9:00/mile was a nice compromise for both of us. With that pace, we could reach our goal of a sub-2 hour finish in Moab.

But the day before the race, I received a call from my friend. Something had come up and he wouldn't be able to make it down to Moab for the run.

Immediately I had to switch gears. I went from looking forward to a nice, easy 2-hour half marathon...to running the race all by my PR-hungry, time-chasing, self-competitive lonesome. The problem with this gear-switch is that I hadn't really trained to run quickly. I had been looking forward to just sitting back and helping my friend through the 13.1 miles.

But soon I found myself near the starting line of this race, lined up with the 7:00/mile pace group in a pack of 1,200 runners. I figured I'd start near the front, because the officials were only using gun-time (no timing chips!). The front of the pack is a place I'm not really used to. I had run this fabulous race three years prior, starting near the back of the pack. Back then, I'd had proper training, and I had placed 87th/535 in a time of 1:46:54.

At the gun, I just went. With a little push, but not too much, I was able to keep a 7:00/mile pace for the first few miles. Even through the hilly portions of the course, I found I was able to keep this gravy train rolling! It felt so good to be able to keep it up, especially since I hadn't really hit this pace too often in my training.

Near the end of the race, my pace slowed a tad, but I just focused on the amazing scenery around me and pushed forward. Taiko drummers at Mile 11 gave me the boost I needed, and I came speeding through to the end of the race. I used my final kick to pass one last racer about 50 yards from the finish.

And so, it came to pass that on the 19th of October, 2008, I beat my half marathon PR with a time of 1:33:33. 27th place out of 1,200 finishers; 6th place in my age division; and nearly 27 minutes faster than my projected time. It makes me wonder how fast I could finish with more serious training, makes me hungry to actually win one of these things!