RtTDNETR

Rails to Trails Does Not Equal Trail Running

Working title of post: ASPtJoF (Ass Stomped Plus the Joy of Falling)

Last weekend I ventured onto the Poto Trail as recommended by a few fellow runners.FN1  This was my first ever trail run unless you count running through my neighborhood, cutting through backyards, running through a house, and using a trampoline to bounce over a fence to get home before my sister.   

Seriously, I’ve never tried anything like trail running.  My several jaunts on Rails to Trails paths were useless as preparation.  The dramatic changes in incline, the unending altering of the trail from large rocks to partially unearthed roots to sand, the narrowness of the path, and the poison ivy was a lot to deal with for my first trail run.  So it figures I insisted on doing the entire 17.5M loop my first time out. 

Only, I went about 18.4M.  The trail is well marked—sorta.  I’m sure if I had gone with another runner familiar with the trail I could have avoided my several ‘lost’ moments; minutes standing in the middle of a three way intersection and attempting to recall the many tracking stills I’d developed growing up in the burbs.  The Poto Trail, while beautiful at times, can be confusing when a cross country skiing trail cuts across your trail and there are no signs to really indicate which way is correct.  Still, I muttered my way through.  Even more confusing is when you arrive at a fork in the trail and the large tree you encounter has a large red arrow pointing right.  Why is that confusing?  Because the large red arrow takes you off the actual path.  Here is my hint, if you find yourself on the Poto Trail and you hit said fork in the trail, ignore that particular arrow unless you want to find a parking lot.  

To make things worse, I tripped several times and ‘ate dirt’ twice—hard.  Admittedly, by the last five miles the best I could do was walk a quarter, run a quarter.  I was exhausted.  The canopy protected me from baking in the high 80s sun, but the warm temps combined with my 10M run in 85+ degree temps the evening before made this even more daunting than I ever imagined.  At times there was no recourse but to walk parts because running was too dangerous.  Anybody willing to ride that trail—and several bikers passed me—is insane.   

I was half expecting to run into Jareth the Goblin King and half expecting I’d found myself in Escher’s Ascending Staircase.  When I emerged I let out a triumphant but minimally audible “yeah!”FN2

Things I learned: Trail running has nothing to do with road running.  They are about as related as people are to gibbons.  Any attempt to trace some form of common ancestry between the two is blasphemy.  There are dangers in the woods equal to that of red hooded little girls.  Never run a difficult and unfamiliar trail alone; or at least don’t make a practice out of it.  My cell phone works while in the woods but if you call me I may not be my usual pleasant self.FN3  And finally, ordering a pizza and asking it be delivered to you at post number 11 on the Poto Trail is about as useless as calling the local Domino’s pizza in Muskegon and asking them to deliver a pizza to your 100 foot sailboat heading north to Ludington simply because you are on the night watch and bored and surprised you are getting service out on Lake Michigan.     

FN1: Thanks In Steph’s Shoes (I think) and congrats to Steph and her family for adding a new future long distance runner to the clan.

FN2: Purposely left uncapitalized for effect. 

FN3: Sorry my love. 

At Some Point You Have to Run, Not Read

Over the past six weeks I’ve done a ton of reading about ultras.  There is a lot of stuff out there.  Some information was extremely helpful, some good, most of it resembling general runner’s common sense, and a healthy dose of crap. 

Let’s focus on the crap.  The 10% rule.  First off.  It has to be the dumbest rule for running ever. I never once heard my track coaches say don’t increase your mileage by more than 10%.  In stark contradiction, we would often jump more than 40% and the team did not suffer a rash of injuries or tired legs.  In fact, we had very few injuries or tired legs as a team.  Is this simply because we were young?  Does the 10%R not apply to high school runners?  Or just high school runners who have not heard of the 10%R? 

I’ve always ignored this stupid rule.  I’ll continue to do so as I train for my ultra.  Point and case: two weeks ago I ran 21 total miles (a low mileage week comprised of a 3M run, two 4M runs, and a 10M run).  Last week I ran 44 total miles (a 10M run, a 12M run, and a 22M run). 

I’m not a freak of nature.  I’m not those rare injury free runners.  I’ve been injured before, but it sure wasn’t because I callously disregarded the 10%R.  I think runners are best suited to determine how much their body is comfortable adjusting up their mileage.  And if you feel comfortable enough to increase your mileage by 100% then do it. 

Now, to the running stuff.  All of my runs last week were on RtoT trails (nice and kind crushed limestone).  Of particular beauty is the NEST, a 71M trail that I was only able to run a small part of.  If you ever get a chance I strongly suggest you run this.  Strangly, as I begun to slow my runs down—aiming for an 8:30/M to 9:00/M pace—I’ve developed this awful habit of rocking my right hand.  What is up with that?   

Perhaps the best thing I’ve read from all the ultra info is this: “You are an experiment of one.”FN1  That said, my first major long run of my ultra training was a 20M to 22M run on the Lakelands trail.  This was the first time I incorporated the following things into a long run (or ever): wore recovery socks (like this excellent runner); carried a phone, carried toilet paper, and wore a Camelbak (first time ever).  Also, Sunday was the first time I ever attempted a long run where the weather was in the high 70s to begin the run. 

My approach was to incorporate at least one walk per 10 miles.  But to take two to three walk breaks.  Starting a long run at 5pm and heading directly west into the sun was not easy, but I need practice doing runs where I’m uncomfortable to begin with.  At mile 4 I had to stop in order to figure out exactly how to use the Camelbak, and then to retrieve my Yurbud which fell off.  At mile nine I slowed to a comfortable walk and emptied my shoes of the plethora of little rocks which had joined me for my run.  I resumed my run at mile 10.  At mile 15 I was feeling pretty tired, so I allowed myself a mile walk break at mile 16.  Then another at mile 20.  My walk times were 16min, 17min, and 17min.  Almost every mile I ran was in the 8:20 to 8:35 range except for my first two miles and mile 13; all run at an 8 flat pace ±3 seconds. 

That’s the good news.  The bad news.  I’m still running too fast.  I’m struggling to slow things down. I'm rocking my hand. I never felt it, but got a huge blood blister on my right big toe.  I ran out of water during my last walking mile.  I failed to bring any salt tablets.  Experiment of one.  I love making mistakes—so long as I learn from them.  And I’m excited about getting back out there and on a more challenging trail. 

Lastly.  I wobble back and forth as to how difficult this will be.  Sometimes I am overrun with the attitude of: “Eh, it is only one mile more than double digit miles.”  At other times I laugh and think: “How are you going to run 80 more miles?”   

FN1: I’d credit this but I forgot where I got it, and I’m not really willing to reread all of that awful crap to let you know exactly where I found this nugget of wisdom.  Deal with it.

The Next Big Thing

100M

It’s stupid.  It’s absurd.  But it’s possible. 

Last year I toyed around with the idea of doing a 100M race after Boston.  But a nagging injury lead to my anit-Nitmos S.o.S. (Summer of Sloth) training program.  Sadly, this was the only ‘training’ program I’ve ever executed perfectly.  A training program that was so successful I carried it over into my fall and early winter training schedules. 

And if he can reuse the S.o.S. theme, I can repurpose it again.  Thus, I’m proud to announce my Summer of Stupid Slow, or S.o.S.S. 

This fall, before the Redhead and I tie the laces (go there now to check out some of our engagement photos if you so wish), I’m going to attempt to run 100 miles.  Now, you may be wondering, why?  It all harkens back to when I was in middle school and my friend Drew’s father used to tell us stories about how he and a few of his friends would do a 100 mile race when they were in their younger years.  He’d talk about how they would run and race against horses.  As relative studs on our middle school team, we were pretty sure nobody has ever run further than two miles, yet alone 100.FN1  But the story never left me.  Only after college did I discover that such races do in fact exist.

Sure, lots of people have told me I should attempt a shorter ultra distance before I do this.  Even internet experts and ultra-marathon professionals make this recommendation.  I scoff at you all.  I’m just excited about the idea of running to the Taco Bell one town over and ordering some tacos to go, then eating them on the walk part of my run.  I’m interested to find out if any of the fancy camel packs out there contain two bladders so I can fill one with water and one with Mt. Dew.  I’m excited about running at night and suffering from exercise induced flashbacks where I recall my time in Texas as an outlaw simply because I was trying to get justice for my brother’s ruined scooter.FN2  I’m eager for the moment when I see the sun rise after running for several hours through the night and I begin to cry…only to end up in a blubbering heap mumbling  “double rainbow!” 

One day I hope to tell my son and/or daughter and their annoying friends how I ran 100 miles.  I know they won’t believe me, mostly because I plan on lying to my children from the beginning.  Including telling them their mother is an evil alien robot that is going to harm them when they sleep.  What?  Isn’t the fun of having kids to battle with your spouse for the hearts and minds of those little DNA half-copies.  I digress. 

I’ll be doing some shorter races this year as well.  But the real goal is to slow it down and go long. (TWSS)FN3

FN1: Yes, in one of four middle schools in one of fifteen-ish towns in one county in one state, I would consider myself a relative track stud. 

FN2: What, is my Legend of Billie Jean to vague of a reference, should I have gone with a Balls of Fury reference instead? 

FN3: That is for you Adam. 

The Old Kent (Old Gregg) (Fifth Third) River Bank Run*

I have to say, I love me a 25K.  The distance is legitimate: longer than a half, shorter than a marathon.  The Redhead and I headed out to Grand Rapids to hang with Kevin and Jennie before the big race.  I had only run this race once previously, running with my awesome sister Emma.  That year the weather was terrible, including so much rain the course was altered. 

Fortunately for us, the weather, like the Dude, abided.**  Cloudy and warm, Kevin and I had a simple goal of getting into (or for Kevin, maintaining his status in) the 2 Hour Club.  The 2HC gets you a few nice perks including preferred seating, a different color bib, 2HC only gear check and restrooms.  The huge ego I’d get from making it in the 2HC would be solely provided by me. 

Or plan was to sit on the 7min pacers for as long as possible.  And, considering that, since the Lansing Marathon I’ve run exactly three times, this was a reasonable goal.  Sure, I think racing a 5K, pacing a few wonderful people in a sub 2 hour half marathon, and a 4M run with the Redhead is adequate practice to make the 2HC.   

Unfortunately, I lost Kevin early in the race.  I had to make a slight wardrobe adjustment at the start, and never really caught up to him.  I was pretty sure I had him in sight, but when I thought I had caught up, it wasn’t him.  Wrong tall white guy in a blue shirt.  Regardless, the crowd support was great and I hung with the 7min pacers for the first half of the race.  Then I eased it back a bit and enjoyed the run. 

I have to say, for the price, this 25K is way better than a half.  Cheaper, longer, extremely well organized, pace groups, and lots of quality runners. 

Now, for the next big thing…

* Yep, this again.*** 

** As part of my movie education of the Redhead, I made her watch this wonderful movie. 

*** I don't get it, how in the eff did Nitmos get all the credit in the word for using asterisks; like he invented them or something.  I'd use footnotes if Blogger would let me. 

Because I Don’t Own a Pair of Pink Shorts

On Sunday I wore yellow.  I repeated my mantra of ‘fast’ as much as possible.  And I needed to be. After the Redhead’s second consecutive 5K win* I had to earn a metal or risk blowing the ‘perfect AG or better’ month we were having.  And this is no easy task given that I had run a marathon the week before (and not run since then) and because this is the Race for the Cure baby.  In Playmaker’s Race Series, this is one of the biggest races and draws in the fasties from all over the greater Lansing area. 

A quick aside; this race, like a few others in the Playmaker’s Series, is an afternoon start—specifically a 2pm start.  I hate afternoon starts.  I like to race early (say 8am) or later (around 7pm), but the hours between 10am and 4pm I hate.** 

After sleeping in, the Redhead and I headed to the L.  I grabbed my bib and started to stretch.  They had changed the course since I last ran it, and the new route is a bit if a winding mess.  Even though the Redhead ran her 5K the day before in freezing cold and received her award, I had a perfectly sunny day and high 50s weather.  Yes Michigan! 

I haven’t raced a 5K since 2009.  Seriously.  Since then I’ve run several 5Ks, but I haven’t targeted one as a ‘race’ effort.  They have either been 5Ks run at a slower pace with friends or family, or have been run the day after a 20 mile long run (see Corktown or Super Bowl).  So, I was nervous.  I had seriously forgotten how to race a 5K, only I didn’t figure that out until somewhere around mile 2. 

I crowded over to the starting line and thought…don’t kill yourself the first mile.  I killed myself the first mile.  That created two problems.  First, a crash reminiscent of a four year old crashing after finding and devouring a package of Fun Dip.  Second, the toll of the marathon a week after made my legs feel like jelly.***  You know you are having a bad race when, in your head, you begin to tell yourself how bad your race is.  Fortunately, I didn’t hit the next step of bad race day, which is when you actually begin to construct your post describing how bad your race was.  

During the second mile five people passed me.  During the third mile I was only able to pass two back.  My final time was smidge under 19.  Not bad, but not great.  Still, I managed a top twenty-five overall finish and, most importantly, snagged an AG to keep our precious household streak of race bling alive. 

And now, a few final notes about the marathon.  First, thank you all for your kind comments on my race recap.  For the first time ever, I had a palindrome for a bib number.  So, winds be dammed, I knew I was in for a PR that day.  Having read a few other race reports from other marathoner’s, it does seem that the wind pretty much owned everyone.  Eff you wind.  I really like my Lansing Marathon shirt.  Most of all, I loved going out the day before and doing some motivational chalking with Lam and the Redhead.  I’ll definitely do that again for my future marathons. 

 

 (Run thirsty my soft soft friends.)

* Yep, after winning the Lansing Marathon 5K she got another first place AG on Saturday! 

** Yes, that includes you Boston! 

*** So what if my 5K race recap is longer than my marathon recap. 

Windstrong, Windtastic, Windderful: The Lansing Marathon Race Recap

The weather was beautiful. Mid 30s. But the wind was noticeable early. The Redhead was there to cheer Lam and I as we were preparing to run the inaugural Lansing Marathon. Before the race we heard several speakers expound positively about “Lansing’s first ever inaugural marathon.” *And somewhere deep in the Department of Redundancy Department buzzers were flashing wildly.*

Soon the race began and we were off. I, as expected, pretty much blew my race strategy early by going 6:40 for mile 4, and then backing way off with a 7:21 for mile 5. At mile ten I wanted to be 1:10:50. I was 1:11:10. And I was happy with that considering over 6 of the first ten miles were into a wind that was steadily gaining momentum. From there on out, I didn’t look at my watch again. I was running on feel and I was feeling good.

Between miles 16-20 the runners headed directly into an even stronger headwind as we ran through the MSU farms. And this part of the race really wiped me out. Several times I was actually blown back or off to the side during this stretch. I could tell I was working hard keep my pace. By the time I got to mile 22, I knew the extra energy expended during those several miles into the wind (reaching over 20mph) were starting to take their toll. The last four miles felt rough. I held on pretty well, but I could tell I was slowing down.

Still, I never stopped and felt I pretty sure I was on pace for a PR. So…how did I do? First, one quick caveat; there are some good things about getting older. Like…your BQ qualification time jumps 5 minutes. Or stays where it was a year ago. And so, I’m happy to say I accomplished two of my three goals, I got a PR and a BQ. A 3:08:xx. I was a little shy of my ‘sneak in under 3:05’ goal. After the race I checked my watch and saw I was on pace through 22 miles, but the last four, including several parts into an even stronger wind plus some natural fatigue were too much to maintain that sub 3:05:00 goal. Who cares, I’m still very very excited.

A few last things. On Saturday, after the expo, Lam, the Redhead, and I did a little motivational chalking on the course. You can check out some of our witty remarks. We even left little love notes just in case this guy decided to cheer on his fellow runners.

(Lam doing a little motivating)

(You get what you vote for)

On race day I was very grateful to see several friends cheering me on…including the legendary Nitmos. My sister Gunior and the Redhead were right at mile 26 to give me some final inspiration—which was extremely needed. Check out these awesome signs. Also, a special thanks goes out to Neophyte who ran the half and was there to help stabilize me after the race.

It was also a good day for the Redhead who not only got a PR but was the first female finisher in the 5K! Check out her amazing story.

I was sad to discover that Lam was unable to overcome his foot injury suffered a few days before his travels out here. He made the difficult but smart decision to DNF after courageously toeing the line and setting a great pace. Having had to make a similar decision myself before, I understand how he feels. I really enjoyed the time I got to spend with Lam. He shares a similar outlook on approaches and perspectives to running, and I’m am hopeful he will get his foot better soon and return to Michigan to visit us again!

My left foot has four blisters, one of which is rather large, while my right foot has one huge blister—not to mention a few other running related minimal but somewhat uncomfortable ailments. I used socks I had worn several times before and the same shoes I had used on all of my long runs. Still, by mile 15 I just had to admit to myself that I was going to be the proud owner of some painful blisters after the race. Later Sunday I was reflecting upon the sensation of running and knowing you are forming blisters. I think it goes something like this: Foot uncomfortable. Forget about it for a bit. Foot hurts and you are positive you have blisters. Forget about it. Pain returns and you wonder how you amazingly forget about it just a few moments ago. Forget about it once more. Pain back again and resumption of wondering how you ever managed to forget about it. Repeat until race is finished. Oh the joy of running.

The Taper Post

I don’t typically share my race goals. Oh well, here they are. Based on a very select few quality long runs and tempo runs, I’m going to try and BQ and PR my previous marathon best of 3:09:xx. I’m mostly prepared to do this. But who knows. All I can say for certain is that I’m very excited about this race.

My race strategy goes like this. Run the first three miles at 7:00 ±3 seconds. Run the next three miles at 7:10 ±3 seconds. I then plan on running two of the next four miles the same way, two at 7:00 ±3sec and two at 7:10 ±3 seconds. This should put me at about 50 seconds above a BQ pace at 10M.

I’ve never intentionally run a marathon slower in the first half. Typically I try to build as much ‘bank’ time as possible and, like a teenage boy about to get shanked before a gym class full of coeds, I hold on for dear life.

But, all of my training on the third ‘official’ Lansing Marathon course has been between miles 6 and 22 or more. Also, I’ve been doing my long runs with a slow first few miles and then a 14M to 16M tempo run at pace goal. This has worked a few times. This has not worked a few times. But I’m going to try it.

At plus 50 seconds at the 10M mark, I’m going to try and average 7:00 per mile for the rest of the race—knowing that with some parts of the course I’ll be ±7 seconds per mile. This, of course, means two important things: 1) I’m going to attempt to pull off a slight negative split; 2) if I run perfect I’ll still be down a few seconds for a BQ. But I’ll let that figure itself out during the last 16M.

Now, for full disclosure, a few last things. I attempted to replicate this race approach with my 10M long run last weekend. Total FAIL. Seems trying to catch and pass the Redhead in the first mile coupled with running in the hot (but thankfully cloudy) Florida weather made this a total shit-show. Not the best of news considering my easy 4M run the day before under the angry FL sun was also a poop-performance. As of this morning, I cannot confirm the course is certified. For your own amusement, go look on their facebook page and see how many times people have asked that question and how it has not yet been answered.

Finally, I’m going to start a new marathon tradition. I’ve always loved seeing when someone has written something in chalk on the course. So, I’ll take a poll and ask you two questions.

What Should I Write?

Around Where Should I Write It?