Wednesday, October 22, 2008

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!

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Running in the Rain

7 Miles today, out there in the pitter-patter of a rainy Sunday afternoon.  I broke up my run into two soggy sections: one 4-mile route, followed by a quick 3-mile jaunt around the strawberry fields.


I incorporated a few short walking breaks in this run, since I hadn't run more than six miles in a while.  And also because I've been thinking of trying Jeff Galloway's Run-Walk method.  According to Galloway, I probably didn't take enough walking breaks (only four, over 7 miles).  But still, with the four walking breaks, I was still able to keep my average pace at under 8 min/mile.  This is pretty good, considering the extra squish factor in my step.  I was soaked through, too, so that added a bit of extra weight to my load.


I would like to share a moment of silence for my comrades out there in the rain today.  We were out there together, living life to its fullest.  But some of us didn't make it back home.  In fact, an unfortunate few of my buzzing little buddies found their final resting place on my rain-soaked mug.  So, here's to you, my fellow rain-frolickers.  You lived, you loved, you flew into my face and died.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Peaceful Pacing

So I think I've got this whole pace thing figured out.  This week I've been keeping a fairly steady 7:00-7:30/mile clip going.  I even went out one day, and was able to keep that pace without even looking at my watch.  I find it just easy enough to maintain over longer runs.  After about four miles, I just need to keep my focus to not slow down.  Forward motion, baby.


I've also been practicing some relaxation techniques while I run.  I try to imagine I'm letting my body just...go.  I relax my neck, shoulders, arms.  In turn, I find that my breathing becomes more natural and less labored.  This relaxation continues down to my hips, knees, and feet.  I'm just...going.  It feels good to be able to achieve my marathon race pace in such a relaxed state.  Now there's just the challenge of continuing this pace for 26.2 miles.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Running Kick-Off

Football, Footie, Soccer, the Beautiful Game.  Whatever you want to call it, I'm gonna be covering the right offensive wing this weekend for my boys, Team Dasai.  We've practiced all year, and now we're off to compete in the Annual AJET Soccer Tournament - current and former JET participants from all over Japan, congregating on the windswept fields of Nagano.


This city may ring a bell, as it was the location of the 1998 Winter Olympics.  It being mid-June, we will unfortunately miss out on the snowy splendor of the hills surrounding Nagano.  Also, I have a feeling that the famous snow monkeys of Nagano won't be out and about during our stay.


This leaves us with the challenge of creating a bit of our own splendor on the soccer pitch.  And well...somebody's gotta stand-in for the monkeys.  Here's to a fun, victorious, injury-free weekend.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Whoa there, Tiger


I went out for four miles today, complete with cheers from elementary kids around the neighborhood. I'll really miss that when I leave Japan this August, little munchkins shouting, "Dan-sensei, Fight-o!" every time I pass the nearby park. That's not really something you ever get in America. Usually it would be something more like, "Run, Forrrrrest, Run!" from an over-privileged group of teens, kids shaping their view of the world with the help of Youtube, Prozac, and a serious lack of adult supervision.

These school kids in Japan can really pick me up, at times maybe a bit too much for my own good. I maintained a 6:45/mile pace for today's 4-miler, and I think I should reel that back a bit. It can be difficult, though, especially when the weather is so nice.

So, I'm backing off, just a tad. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize. Boston or bust, 2010.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Hiking Kicks

200 teams of four.
100 kilometers over rugged terrain.
48 hours.
The 2008 Oxfam Japan Trailwalker

My team for the 2008 Oxfam Trailwalker had a rocky star. In March, we originally began as four eager hikers/fundraisers, all with hectic Spring schedules to sync-up. This forced one of us to back out, leaving three. Still eager, we were now worried and pressed to find a fourth (required) member by May.

The three of us spent much of March and every weekend in
 April getting out to the mountains, to test our hiking
 mettle. 100 km would be a long way, especially on the hilly course near Hakone. We focused our training assaults around Chichibu, one of the few mountainous regions of Saitama prefecture. Each hike grew longer.  Focusing on about a 4km/hour pace, we finally worked our way up to a 55km hike, two weeks before the actual event. This was our longest training hike, a little over half the distance of the Trailwalker event.

A week later, just one week before raceday, we secured our fourth team member, C-Dawg. Just in the nick of time, too. We wouldn't have been able to start the race with just three of us. Unfortunately, we hadn't been able to train with our new hiking buddy, but he seemed to be in good enough shape to join us for at least the first half. We would be allowed to finish with three, as long as we began with four. C-Dawg, due to prior plans, would have to drop out at the halfway point, in order to head home. It was all going to work out just fiiiiiine.

The race began on a Saturday morning, so we all headed down to stay in a ryokan near Odawara on Friday night. There were actually 8 of us, including another four-member team of English teachers. We chatted; showed off our trail mixes and hiking treats; talked about our pace, goals, worries; and gave each other motivation and good night wishes before heading to bed.

The race began the next morning at 09:00 in Odawara. We made it to the starting line in good spirits, seeing all the other teams and volunteers buzzing around Shiroyama track. After all of the obligatory stretching, last-minute bag checks, restroom breaks, and photo-ops, the race was on!

I felt like running.  Even with my backpack on.  I'm a runner; it's what I do.  But I knew I still had a long hike ahead of me, and the course would roll up and down many mountains.  Probably not wise to start off too quickly.  Besides, I had three other team members.  We were going to have to stick together to get this thing done.

The first few hours were really slow-going.  After about 30 minutes, we ran into a bottleneck where all 800 participants had to walk single-file.  Eventually, things spaced out a bit, and we continued on.  And up.  And down.  And up again.  Into the night, we moseyed.  Thankfully, the weather cooperated for the first day.  Good thing, too, because I didn't really pack any rain gear.  I figured that, if it rained, I'd just get wet.  That would come later...

After 13 hours and 39 km, we made it to Checkpoint 4 of 8.  There we said farewell to C-Dawg, who had done an awesome job of keeping up with us, staying motivated, and keeping it real.  At Checkpoint 4, we also did some stretching, hydrating and chowing down on some good vittles.  Everyone knows that food tastes best after a long hike.  Like Powerbars - those things really don't taste good unless you've earned them.

We continued on what now had become our night-hike around 11:00pm.  This section of the course featured a steep downhill, which was quite difficult to traverse with our itty bitty flashlights.  Around this section, my feet started to bleat like scared little sheep on a dark and dangerous prairie - sheep waiting, eagerly, to be counted one by one.  After 6 grueling hours and 16 more kilometers, we had reached Checkpoint 5.  Here we took a long rest, long being a relative term, of 3 hours.

That three hours, though, gave us all the rest we needed.  In the morning, we met up with our support crew, angels bearing trail mix and brownies.  One of our supporters had actually been a member of the other team of English teachers.  However, she had to retire from the race due to giant foot blisters.  We were glad to see she was still able to participate in the event, at least from the supporting side.

We began Day Two with high spirits, renewed smiles, but still no rain gear.  The rain came in around noon.  Luckily, we were under a thick canopy during the rainstorm.  I'd like to say I didn't get too wet, but the fact is I got soaked.  And the canopy, which had sort of sheltered us from the rain, continued to drip down on us long after the storm had passed.  Doh.  However, I was wearing a technical shirt that seemed to dry pretty well after a few hours.  Ha-ha...Me-1, Nature-0.  Still twenty kilometers to go.

These final twenty kilometers proved to be quite difficult.  Not for me, but for my team as a unit.  One of my team members started getting nauseous with just 10 kilometers left to go.  Our pace slowed to a crawl as we traversed the most difficult mountain passes on the course.  Why did they have to put them at the end!?  Stinkin' mountains.

It was nearly 1:00am when we made it to the Checkpoint 8, the final checkpoint before the Finish.  We took another long, much-needed, well-deserved rest.  Long, once again being a relative term, we resumed hiking after only two hours of sleep.  It hadn't been a very restful sleep for me.  I was crammed in with other resting hikers, half-covered by the tent canopy overhead.  This meant that, as the rain began to fall again at this ungodly hour, my face was getting smacked with a heapin' helpin' of drippity drops directly from the sky, as well as the  run-off from the tent canopy.  Doh.

Startled awake, I needed some time to get my bearings and remember where I was.  It was almost 3:00am on Sunday morning, I had hiked 94 kilometers over the course of 42 hours with my group.  We only had six left, to complete in as many hours.  With a renewed sense of purpose, we continued on the final stretch.

The final, difficult stretch.  Seriously, I thought, does this uphill ever end?!  We were reaching the end, of everything.  The end of the course, the end of these two days that had seemed to melt into one, the end of our wits, the end of our strength and vitality.  It became difficult to trudge through the early morning rain, as we moved upward and onward.  Even when the clouds parted and the sun came out to greet us, there was hardly a spring to our step.

All of a sudden, after an hour-long uphill struggle, we were at a peak.  The final peak of the course.  There were three volunteers at this summit, all wearing clown wigs and ringing bells.  They cheered us on, reminding us that we only had two kilometers left.  Two downhill kilometers.

For the next kilometer, I did what I had been feeling like doing from the start - I ran.  Well, sort of.  It was more like a downhill hobble, to-and-fro.  Anyhow, I was definitely covering some ground.  My other team members kept up pretty well, too.  And before we knew it, we only had one kilometer left.

We slowed to a walk again, mostly because this section was on asphalt, and my feet were absolutely killing me.  We rounded a field and spotted the finish line in the distance.  I convinced my teammates to jog into the finish, to wrap this thing up right.  As we came in, the other team and our support crew cheered us on. And just like that, we finished the 2008 Oxfam Trailwalker 100km Challenge in 44 hours, 43 minutes.  109th place/200 teams.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Metatarsal, I bite my thumb at thee

My right foot is hurt.  Probably just from getting out there too much.  Probably?  No, not probably.  Definitely.  I am an overzealous, gung-ho idiot who doesn't plan ahead or give himself enough rest.


I went on a 30km hike the last Sunday of April, ran everyday that week, then went on a 55km hike this previous weekend.  During this 55km hike, the pain between my first and second metatarsals started making me howl like Chewbacca.


I gave it a few days rest, then went out for an easy four-miler today.  After about a mile, the discomfort returned; not as bad as before, but definitely noticeable.  So, I cut my run short and headed home.


I'm limiting myself to low-impact exercises and stretching until my 100km hiking event...next Friday.  Eek.


Here's to hoping everything magically works out, I complete this final hike in good health and with a happy heart.