A Race Recap Before Boston

Overdue? Yes. But funny? Yes.

I can say with all honesty that my running career exists solely because of McDonalds. Seriously. It was shortly after I discovered the wonderfullness of McDonald's French fries that my parents began to insist I 'go outside and be active or 'go run around for a while.'* It was as if my love of fast food and running were forged from the same fire, and the Ronald McDonald Run for the House is the perfect opportunity to help support a struggling millionaire get his mega-uber-big-home off the foreclosure block.

I've been wanting to race the Run for the House for a few years now, but it was traditionally held during the dead of summer. Fortunately, a few years ago RftH took the late March spot previously held by the Food & Fitness 5K. Plus, and I'm just being honest with you, you can run this race wearing authentic Ronald McDonald socks. For a slight additional cost, you can get an official pair of white and red striped thigh-high socks. Something a fine little running redhead seemed quite confounded about. But I digress.


As this race is a family 5K, there was a kids race beforehand. And Ronald himself was there to encourage the little tykes along. At that moment it seemed everyone was having the best of times. After the kids finished and were given a medal regardless of when they finished, the approximately 600 runners lined up for the main event. And this, my friends, is when things began to go wrong...horrifically and wonderfully wrong.


The start was a 'V' shaped funnel; and someone decided it would be a 'great' idea to have Ronald ‘thank us’ for allowing him to add the 30,ooo square foot addition he has been longing for (and to finally finish gold plating his indoor 12 lane bowling alley). The ‘great’ idea continued by suggesting Ronald \start the race. As you can see be the picture below, old Ronald started the race about 10 feet from the starting line. The starting line! The starting line, you know, that place where the fastest runners line up first and sprint at the sound of "Go!" or any loud bang. Yep, that starting line.

I crossed the start, started my Garmin, and as I began to look up a kid came darting out from my right, causing me to cut a hard left to avoid him. And that is when I saw it, a huge mass of yellow and red...directly in front of me.


I hit that clown the way my SUV hit a deer, putting my left shoulder into his body and sending him spinning like a top. Clown down. I myself, for this is my blog, barely managed to keep my balance, having to use my hands to prop myself back up. After finally regaining my balance, my 5K race began. I tucked in behind a few quicker runners and let them pull me through a solid first mile, but I just couldn’t find that second gear and toughness to stay strong the second mile. After getting passed by one runner at the start of the third mile, I managed to surge a bit and passed two runners before coasting into a solo finish and assured ag award.

And, as if getting flattened by some ‘jerk’ runner isn’t bad enough, imagine the indignation he felt when he had to give me my ag award. Sure, I could have said I was sorry, and could have been the bigger man. But I didn’t. Nope, I just made the most of our little moment and whispered “I own you” as we were photographed together. A wonderful little moment captured in a picture.

* It is also true that my love of reading exists because of Pizza Hut. Were it not for the wonderful summer program where reading 5 books scored you a personal pan pizza, I likely would have followed my initial desire to remain illiterate for the duration of my life. And if you don't think illiteracy is funny, you likely can't read this anyway.

They Say the Old Adage is True

At the risk of opening myself up for public mockery; since the weather has broken and we have had an unprecedented string of sunny and quasi-warm days, I oft find myself singing John Denver’s “Annie’s Song” and even Cat Steven’s “Morning Has Broken.” *Begin dispensing of insults as if you were flinging rotting fruit at Quasimodo.

I remain somewhat stymied when it comes to how to fit meaningful training into my new work schedule…let alone time to post and comment. But since March 1st I have hit every scheduled run. On one particular morning I had to run early or forfeit my chance to run at all. I laid in bed and struggled with it—even though the weather was perfect for morning running. But I got up and got outside, and I ran. When it was all said and done, I was thrilled I’d done it.

So, like they say: You never regret a run you do, but you always regret runs you skip. So true. The problem is that I feel the exact same way with stopping at McDonalds for a large chocolate (or Mint in honor of St. Patty’s Day) shake and large fries. Seriously, I have been known to bitterly bring up the fact that I didn’t get a late night McRush a few days prior.

Last weekend I had a 24M run on the schedule. I dropped it to 22M because my attempt to run 22M on a treadmill two week prior was a complete fail (only 17M). I chose the hills-of-hell route. I paid dearly. I was aiming for a 7:30/M average. I hit a 7:40/M average. Now, it isn’t the end of the world, but with only one 20M+ run left, I’m sure I’m not ready to run anything close to a 7:15/M average necessary to BQ at Boston.

Which is good, because I haven’t planned to try that, and because I’m just not there. The timing of this training and the weather have successfully conspired to frustrate my training, so I’m going there to run hard and run for fun. My plan is to hit a 3:30, or a comfortable 8:00/M pace.

But let’s just be honest as a dollar-eating goat, I’ll probably get there and hit the first few miles at an easy 7:10 and think “Why not Spike? Go for it! The Gods favor you today.” And I’ll go for it. And somewhere around Heartbreak Hill ‘it’ will come back with vengeance. Just as Pandora is fated to open the box, so am I fated to wholeheartedly ignore my ‘race plan.’

I love running.

There Always is a Silver Lining

Last Friday the weather took a deep drawn in breath. As I drove home from the rare Friday night meeting the weather was calm and placid. Because someone had to attend a secret dinner cooked by ninjas, and because my wonderful girlfriend was preparing to rock her marathon (quick: go tell her what a great job she did), I quickly rearranged my schedule to head out of town by noon on Saturday. This meant I had to get my 22M run in early Saturday morning—no matter what.

While thinking about my upcoming long run and driving down the highway, Winter exhaled. Snow. Hard, heavy, wet snow, carried on angry winds. And caught and ripped away in this late February storm went any hope I had of a quality long run outside. I had no choice, 22M indoors.

Yes, I was going to attempt to do 22M on a treadmill.

It was a fail. I had to stop after 17M. I honestly think I was hallucinating. The fact that there is even a record for most miles run on a treadmill in a 24 hour period is insane.

But a bad long run is not unexpected during marathon training. However, there is some fortunate news. The temps finally moved above freezing. Today, the sun is shining and snow is melting off of sidewalks. On the first day of March, the chokehold Winter has had on this part of the County loosened. The white knuckled grip slackened a bit, enough to provide the most important training tool—hope. A deep gasp of hope. Exactly what I needed.

Today, for the first time, I feel hope about the remainder of my training for Boston. And I can tell you that this break and the arrival of beautiful are not simply coincidence.

Pirate Attack

In honor of the upcomming race for Avast, Redhead Running, the following post includes things likely to be said by pirates at the Gasparilla Marathon:

“I can’t believe Asics doesn’t make a peg-leg shoe!”

“If you pass me, my parrot is trained to gouge out your eyes.”

“I’m just following the dotted line until I find a gigantic X.”

“The booty is only 26.2 miles ahead!”

“Boston has a ‘Tea Party,’ we have rum! We win!”

“Publix…”

“I’m not slow, I’m just getting my sea legs back!”

“Pirate marathoners tend to have cramps and crabs.”

“I’m not running a marathon, I’m looking for my ship!”

“How many nautical miles are in a regular mile?”

Super Bowl 5K—On Ice

I truly enjoy running my local Super Bowl 5K. It’s well organized, a pretty sizeable crowd considering the time of year and wild variance in weather, and I can even run in tights if I wish.

Last year the main issue/problem with the course was the neighborhood. If you don’t recall, the route is mostly along a main street with one mile spent in a ‘hood.’ And last year the hood wasn’t cleared, forcing us to slog through several inches of wet snow. This year the streets were again clear, but the hood provided well matted-down snow; which was basically ice. Perhaps the organizers thought: ‘If Disney and Sesame Street can take anything they do, put it on ice, and still draw a crowd, why cant we?’ No joke, several runners decided it was better to run on the snow covered grass/sidewalks than run on the ice rink.

I, of course prompted by a voice in my head, decided the only ‘true runner’ thing to do would be to run on the course—regardless of the dangerous conditions. And I did, almost falling several times. I even heard a runner bite it behind me (and no I didn’t stop to see if he/she was alright).

After the second mile we returned back to the main street and smooth surface running. By that point, the 22M of hills had caught up, and I slightly wished a car would come along and give me an honorable DNF—plus chicks dig scars.

Instead, I rallied and managed to pass a few runners before the finish, romping in under 19:30. About a minute faster than last year’s race, and not bad considering the mile of ‘escapades on ice.’ I also managed to start my racing year off right with some bling. Despite my improved time, my AG place remained the same. But I’ll take it willing; so long as a beautiful redhead thinks my AG award is better than a massive car-induced scar.

A Long Winter, a Long Interval Away

First, I have an absence to explain. Well, my new work has a ‘new’ internet policy. And it’s a little fuzzy whether posting falls under the ‘acceptable internet use’ definition. And of course, our new policy is followed with an ‘observation period.’ So, they were tracking everyone’s internet breadcrumb trail, causing me to go incognito.

Also, with my new job, I’m on the road quite a bit more, while working approximately the same number of hours. The major difference being I’m away from home during the weekdays, quite infrequently having to work on the weekends. While prior I got home about the same time every weekday and put in some hours on the weekend. Why does this matter? Simple, it means that instead of going to workout at 5:30p on weekdays, and having to work a few hours on Sat/Sun (nothing better than working for five hours after a long run), I’m away from home until 8p at night—thereby making consistent weekday workouts very difficult—especially in winter. However, I have an abundance of free time on the weekends, where I only have one run to fit in.

But, alas, the ‘observation period’ has come and gone and I’ll be free to post and comment again. I trust all of you will be magnanimous towards me, and I thank you in advance.

Annnndddd, with all of that perfunctory stuff out of the way, I’ll give you a brief update concerning my training for Boston.

It sucks.

Yep, sucks big time.

Why? I’ve been missing weekday workouts. My long runs are significantly slower than training for Chicago. I’ve borrowed Nitmos’ Cheeto layer, and I can’t seem to give it back. Plus, the weather has been frightful. Clean sidewalks for running—nope. Cold and slippery conditions—yep. Nothing above freezing for a month—yep.

As a for instance. On Saturday I ran 22M. I selected the hilliest route possible for this area, an 11M out and back. The route has several hills and one large slow incline of well over 100 feet. That series of hills is about as close as I can fake it for the “Newton Hills” and its famous peak “Heartbreak Hill.” But it was 21 degrees, and a 15-20mph headwind. So, I had the fight of my life for a 7:54/M average.

But I’ve run long enough is MI to know this: when it comes to January and February, sometimes it is just enough to run the miles hard. When I look back at my training for Bayshore this time last year, my times and speeds are not that different. Everything speed related rests on going hard (but slow) these two months with the hope that speed will bloom in early spring.

Tomorrow I’ll drop my Super Bowl 5K recap, which I ran yesterday.

A New Year That Rocked

This past weekend I loaded up the eco-friendly and “great-mileage-getting” SUV and headed south to meet up with the Redhead. It was our plan to meet halfway, avoid zombies, and ring in the New Year together. And, because this is a running blog—and because we are both currently training for marathons—we decided to incorporate a long run into our little weekend tryst.

Unfortunately for us, the cold and bitter winds known so well by the upper regions of this country followed me down to Chattanooga, bringing a decidedly Midwest winter feel to that southern town. Oh, and in case you are just entirely unaware, there here hills in them there Mountains; hills we ran up, and down, and up again.

Our planned 16M was cut short to 10M after combating harsh winds, 25 degree temps, and a hill of death. I now understand the old saying: “We went uphill both ways.” I even met Boston’s Heartbreak Hill’s little sister, Chattanooga’s Punch-in-the-gut-Hill. She isn’t very nice—by the way.

But our long run misadventure aside, we had a spectacular weekend, filled with wonderful laughs, meaningful and warm words spoken on the Walnut Street Bridge—gapping a river attempting to freeze, and a most excellent post run nap.*

I’m extremely excited to see her again next weekend as I go down to cheer on my cuz as he runs the Disney Marathon. I’m hopeful he’ll have a good race, but I’m worried his injuries may make for a very difficult run.

*And of course we hit up Taco Bell on Friday, it was the first TBF of the new year!!!