This is really something I should have started months ago, as the 2009 race season has been in full swing for some time. That said, there's a lot to catch up on in this blog.
My first real "race" of the season was the Dry Creek Half Marathon, put on by Blue Circle Sports, on April 4, 2009. I'd been training pretty well, and focusing more on hills than I ever have. I generally hate hills. With a passion. But I was pretty confident about where I was, considering it was so early in the season. The run was fantastic. Mostly trails, with only a little bit of road, proved to be quite the challenge at that time of year. For the better part of the race, we front-runners had approximately one inch of mud caked to the bottom of our shoes, and protruding out an inch or so on all sides. In one sense, it was awesome. But it felt like we were lugging around lead weights on each foot. Occasionally the mud would shake loose, causing your foot to rocket forward as if gravity no longer applied to it. Strange conditions, to say the least. But I pulled in a solid 5th overall placing, with a 1:40:24.910. For that course, considering the steep hills and less-than-ideal conditions, not too shabby.
After Dry Creek, it was a two-week break until the Race to Robie Creek. To explain this race, which was NOT my best, I want to go off on a tangent real quick. It's amazing how therapeutic running can be. Whenever there's something on your mind, a good run will usually help clear it up. It puts things in perspective in a way that no other method can. When it's just you and the road, all other complications in life seem to become less important. I've found that a good run is better than almost anything one can do for mental health.
However, while a good run can help clear up your mind, your mind can really mess up a good run. Sometimes, when there's too much else circling in your head, you can't focus... your form goes to crap, your breathing goes to crap, your drive goes to crap... you just can't put it together. There were some things going on in my life (read: girl problems) that started to fully break down right about the time of Robie. And I couldn't shake them. Within the first mile of that race, all I could think was, "Oh crap, this is going to suck." And it did. While my time wasn't too bad, a 1:35:02.9, I just wasn't pleased with it. I had had better training runs up the summit than I was able to put together on race day. And I got a massive side stitch with about 1.5 miles to go, which seriously hampered by ability to throw down a good kick. All of that aside, though, I know in retrospect that I didn't run well because of the garbage that was in my head.
After Robie, I stayed in a funk for a little over two weeks. It's often said by the coaching community growing up in running that "Girls make the legs weak." Never was that truer in my life than those two weeks following Robie. Either they distract you from your training or they mess with your mind. In my case, it was the latter. It wasn't until the aforementioned girl problems finally resulted in a break-up did I suddenly snap out of it. And I only did so then on the wisdom of a good friend. A few days after the break-up, he sat me down and gave me the ol' "you're better than her" pep talk. But it was the way he did it that set me straight. Quoting The Matrix, and acknowledging that he felt like Morpheus, he said, "You're faster than this, Neo." That struck a chord in me, at the time only on the personal/relationship level. He was right.
The following Tuesday, I went out for an easy run in the evening. As I got warmed up, I kept repeating to myself: "You're faster than this, Neo... You're faster than this, Neo." And something snapped. I ended up going several miles longer than planned and at a much faster pace than I had thought would happen that night. I was back. Wednesday evening: same thing. This was a very good thing.
That Saturday, May 9, 2009, I ran in the Susan G. Komen Foundation Race for the Cure, here in Boise. It's only a 5k, and I haven't been doing much for speed training, but I was very pleased with my performance. The morning of the race, I picked up my watch and, to my disappointment, saw that the battery was dead. "Crap," I thought, "how the hell am I going to pace myself correctly?" Unable to do anything about it, I headed down to the race... decided to use the 1.5 mile distance to the start line as my warm-up. When I got to the starting line, I scoped out the other runners that looked pretty serious. If I didn't have a watch, I'd at least need a pacing buddy. Thinking I'd run around 18:30, given the lack of speed training, I started asking people their goal times for the day. The first gentleman responded, "Well, I ran a 17:35 two weeks ago, so anything faster than that will be good." OK, so I won't be going with that guy... moving on! I found a couple other people aiming for 18:00, so I decided to go with them. As the gun fired, however, I was out with the 17:35 guy. It was a beautiful day for a run, and the legs just felt GOOD. I stayed right with him until the midpoint of the race, where he started to pull on me ever so slightly. By the end of the race, he was a good 40 seconds in front of me, but I still laid down a 16:59. That was easily the fastest 5k since high school... not bad for a guy that ballooned up to 210 lbs. in law school.
Which brings us to the most recent race, on May 16, 2009, which was the Famous Idaho Potato Half Marathon. I went into this race with low expectations. Following the Robie fiasco, I hadn't put in a solid long run (longer than 8 miles) in several weeks. Knowing that I have the Sun Valley Half Marathon two weeks thereafter, I figured I'd use this as a training run only. Accordingly, my race prep was less than ideal. I didn't get to bed until about 12:30am the night before the race, and had to get up at 5:30am to make it to the starting line on time. Neither was my nutrition ideal. About the only thing I did right was to ensure that I was properly hydrated the night before the race. When the gun went off, I tried going out with a buddy who was also going to be taking it easy. We were shooting for a 1:30:00, which would have still been a PR for me, but still not a very hard run for me in present conditioning. I really haven't been doing half marathons very long, so my PR was still pretty high. Well, I was able to hold myself back for about a mile is all when my legs just started to pick up the pace. I lost my buddy pretty quickly and headed out on my own. For the better part of the race, I knew I was in 5th place overall, and just kept the focus on my own run. I still thought I was going relatively easy, which is why my time surprised me so much. In the last 5k or so, I saw one of the people in front of me start to slow down. I, on the other hand, was speeding up. Other than two massive blisters on the balls of my feet, I was feeling good. I took that guy down with about 2.5 miles to go, I'd guess. I maintained that position, 4th, for the remainder of the race. When I crossed the line, I was shocked to look up at the clock and see my time: 1:22:32.0. PR? Uh yeah... by 12 minutes.
In the coming weeks, the race schedule gets pretty hectic, with first ever High Desert Trail Run, then the Sun Valley Half, then a weekend off, then the Sawtooth Relay, then the Wasatch Back Relay, and finally the Main Street Mile. Good times... Good times...
My first real "race" of the season was the Dry Creek Half Marathon, put on by Blue Circle Sports, on April 4, 2009. I'd been training pretty well, and focusing more on hills than I ever have. I generally hate hills. With a passion. But I was pretty confident about where I was, considering it was so early in the season. The run was fantastic. Mostly trails, with only a little bit of road, proved to be quite the challenge at that time of year. For the better part of the race, we front-runners had approximately one inch of mud caked to the bottom of our shoes, and protruding out an inch or so on all sides. In one sense, it was awesome. But it felt like we were lugging around lead weights on each foot. Occasionally the mud would shake loose, causing your foot to rocket forward as if gravity no longer applied to it. Strange conditions, to say the least. But I pulled in a solid 5th overall placing, with a 1:40:24.910. For that course, considering the steep hills and less-than-ideal conditions, not too shabby.
After Dry Creek, it was a two-week break until the Race to Robie Creek. To explain this race, which was NOT my best, I want to go off on a tangent real quick. It's amazing how therapeutic running can be. Whenever there's something on your mind, a good run will usually help clear it up. It puts things in perspective in a way that no other method can. When it's just you and the road, all other complications in life seem to become less important. I've found that a good run is better than almost anything one can do for mental health.
However, while a good run can help clear up your mind, your mind can really mess up a good run. Sometimes, when there's too much else circling in your head, you can't focus... your form goes to crap, your breathing goes to crap, your drive goes to crap... you just can't put it together. There were some things going on in my life (read: girl problems) that started to fully break down right about the time of Robie. And I couldn't shake them. Within the first mile of that race, all I could think was, "Oh crap, this is going to suck." And it did. While my time wasn't too bad, a 1:35:02.9, I just wasn't pleased with it. I had had better training runs up the summit than I was able to put together on race day. And I got a massive side stitch with about 1.5 miles to go, which seriously hampered by ability to throw down a good kick. All of that aside, though, I know in retrospect that I didn't run well because of the garbage that was in my head.
After Robie, I stayed in a funk for a little over two weeks. It's often said by the coaching community growing up in running that "Girls make the legs weak." Never was that truer in my life than those two weeks following Robie. Either they distract you from your training or they mess with your mind. In my case, it was the latter. It wasn't until the aforementioned girl problems finally resulted in a break-up did I suddenly snap out of it. And I only did so then on the wisdom of a good friend. A few days after the break-up, he sat me down and gave me the ol' "you're better than her" pep talk. But it was the way he did it that set me straight. Quoting The Matrix, and acknowledging that he felt like Morpheus, he said, "You're faster than this, Neo." That struck a chord in me, at the time only on the personal/relationship level. He was right.
The following Tuesday, I went out for an easy run in the evening. As I got warmed up, I kept repeating to myself: "You're faster than this, Neo... You're faster than this, Neo." And something snapped. I ended up going several miles longer than planned and at a much faster pace than I had thought would happen that night. I was back. Wednesday evening: same thing. This was a very good thing.
That Saturday, May 9, 2009, I ran in the Susan G. Komen Foundation Race for the Cure, here in Boise. It's only a 5k, and I haven't been doing much for speed training, but I was very pleased with my performance. The morning of the race, I picked up my watch and, to my disappointment, saw that the battery was dead. "Crap," I thought, "how the hell am I going to pace myself correctly?" Unable to do anything about it, I headed down to the race... decided to use the 1.5 mile distance to the start line as my warm-up. When I got to the starting line, I scoped out the other runners that looked pretty serious. If I didn't have a watch, I'd at least need a pacing buddy. Thinking I'd run around 18:30, given the lack of speed training, I started asking people their goal times for the day. The first gentleman responded, "Well, I ran a 17:35 two weeks ago, so anything faster than that will be good." OK, so I won't be going with that guy... moving on! I found a couple other people aiming for 18:00, so I decided to go with them. As the gun fired, however, I was out with the 17:35 guy. It was a beautiful day for a run, and the legs just felt GOOD. I stayed right with him until the midpoint of the race, where he started to pull on me ever so slightly. By the end of the race, he was a good 40 seconds in front of me, but I still laid down a 16:59. That was easily the fastest 5k since high school... not bad for a guy that ballooned up to 210 lbs. in law school.
Which brings us to the most recent race, on May 16, 2009, which was the Famous Idaho Potato Half Marathon. I went into this race with low expectations. Following the Robie fiasco, I hadn't put in a solid long run (longer than 8 miles) in several weeks. Knowing that I have the Sun Valley Half Marathon two weeks thereafter, I figured I'd use this as a training run only. Accordingly, my race prep was less than ideal. I didn't get to bed until about 12:30am the night before the race, and had to get up at 5:30am to make it to the starting line on time. Neither was my nutrition ideal. About the only thing I did right was to ensure that I was properly hydrated the night before the race. When the gun went off, I tried going out with a buddy who was also going to be taking it easy. We were shooting for a 1:30:00, which would have still been a PR for me, but still not a very hard run for me in present conditioning. I really haven't been doing half marathons very long, so my PR was still pretty high. Well, I was able to hold myself back for about a mile is all when my legs just started to pick up the pace. I lost my buddy pretty quickly and headed out on my own. For the better part of the race, I knew I was in 5th place overall, and just kept the focus on my own run. I still thought I was going relatively easy, which is why my time surprised me so much. In the last 5k or so, I saw one of the people in front of me start to slow down. I, on the other hand, was speeding up. Other than two massive blisters on the balls of my feet, I was feeling good. I took that guy down with about 2.5 miles to go, I'd guess. I maintained that position, 4th, for the remainder of the race. When I crossed the line, I was shocked to look up at the clock and see my time: 1:22:32.0. PR? Uh yeah... by 12 minutes.
In the coming weeks, the race schedule gets pretty hectic, with first ever High Desert Trail Run, then the Sun Valley Half, then a weekend off, then the Sawtooth Relay, then the Wasatch Back Relay, and finally the Main Street Mile. Good times... Good times...
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