PR and an Ice Bath and Doggie

Last night I was up past 11, usually in bed by 9.  The morning came fast.  I dragged myself out of bed at 6, headed out the door, returning inside three times, having forgotten something.  I made it to the race, all essentials in-tow, registered and had a good time talking with some friends.  One of the local middle schools had their cross country team in uniform attending the race.

The morning was BEAUTIFUL, low 50's at start time with nice sunshine.  It's going to be 85 today, so it warmed up fast.

The race wound through the old neighborhoods here, the same ones where I grew up.  I took my warm up jog, a bit over a mile, through the old streets, looking at my old houses, houses of friends, remembering where this big mean dog named Coors resided.  I turned onto a street whose name has been shortened to Placita Baca, from Placita de Baca, place of the cow.  I used to infuriate my sister, telling her the street was named after her.

For some reason, the stroll through my old haunting grounds inspired me to want to do well.  This is where I'm from.  I'm who I am today because of experiences I had here.  But I was concerned because my calves still ached and didn't feel right from Monday's tempo run.  Plus, I climbed over 6,000 feet in my last two bike rides...can you say, shot legs?  I'd just see how it went.

At the start of the race all of the middle schools crowded the starting line.  I knew a few of them would probably beat me, they run pretty fast.  But many would just be in the way, so I had to get around them.  Of course they took off fast, and in passing them I completed my first mile in 6:23.  Oops.  I passed all but three of them about half way through mile one, knew I was going too fast, but couldn't slow down or they'd pass me again.  And I didn't want to dodge between kids and people up the hill, which took most of mile 2.  

Heading up the hill I was in 5th place.  Three boys in front and a friend of mine who is wicked fast and ended up finishing in 17 and change.  Mile two only climbed 146 feet, which is half of what the Cookie Toss Mile in my tempo run was, but it killed me.  My calves really started to hurt.

At the start of the hill I heard one of the boys I was running with spit.  It wasn't just a spit, it was the type that tells me he was tapped.  I've noticed that when I have that dry spit I'm done, and when racing, if someone I'm with spits, soon they're dropping.  But I encouraged him to keep going.

Regardless, soon I was in 4th place.  The kid I was now running with was TINY, probably all of 80 pounds.  But he was running strong.  There was another boy in front of us, about 200 yards up the hill.  I told the boy, "See him...he's dying.  You got it.  You're tougher than him, go get him.  This race is yours."

He tried, and closed a significant portion of the gap, but at the end of mile two we headed down hill, and the other boy took off.

Once at the bottom of the hill I was toast, tooling along at a 6:45 pace or so, not pushing.  I had no idea of my time as I'd just looked at my pace on the Garmin and thought that with the hill, there'd be no shot at a PR.  I had a half mile left, just bring it on home...then BOOM, left calf totally locked up.  I hopped, thought about stopping, but didn't want to be passed.  How stupid is that?

I limped the rest of the way in.  At the start of the chute I saw 19:57 on the clock ... Come on!  I've been dying to run a sub-20 5K, this could've been my first.

I finished 4th, congratulated those in front and the small boy thanked me, twice, for pushing and encouraging him.  That was as cool as anything else.

For my effort I got the race t-shirt, of course, and first place for each age group received these medals (females had female runners on theirs).

 Here I am, pre-race:

Limping down the chute:

Three Generations 5K Race Report

Somethings start rough but turn out really great, like a child.  They complain and gripe, don't eat solid food and crap on themselves regularly.  Today was like that.

We loaded in the car for a long day in Tucson, leaving home and our warm, comfy beds at 6:15, IN THE MORNING.  My wife, daughters and myself, were all tired and grouchy.  I had a sore throat. My wife had a sore throat.  My oldest daughter was stressing about her first run.  We bickered about the radio, about people talking too quietly, complaining too much, and so on.  It's not typical for us, but we've been so incredibly busy the past two months that we've had no down time...we're worn out!

By the time we arrived at my parents' house, an hour later, we'd figured everything out.  We dropped off our bicycles, for a ride later in the day, and headed another thirty minutes in the car to the race.

The muscles in my left foot were still sore from last weekend's half marathon and my legs were a little flat feeling from Thursday's bike ride.  For the second straight night, I slept poorly (fretting over things at work), managing a solid two hours before waking, and then another three or so later as morning crept around.  Not too bad for one day, but two days in a row gets old.  Circumstances didn't appear to be there for me to break 20 minutes...and that bugged me.  I actually woke in the middle of the night worried about running too hard and getting injured, or finishing in 24 minutes!  My first 5K, in October, was 20:58, and I hadn't been running at all then.  At least I had to surpass that time.

The drive to Tucson had been very windy, blowing the car all over the road.  Weather.com said the winds were 28 miles per hour, gusts up to infinity.  Oh well, I thought.  I'll give it my best shot and see what happens.

My oldest daughter has never run save on a treadmill.  She usually runs about two miles.  She is stubborn as a goat and a cowgirl.  She owns boots and converse, doesn't want running shoes.  My dad's got a bum Achilles and walks with a limp.  I'm exhausted.  It's cold and windy and I'm wondering, what are we doing here?  Let's just make sure this is a fun experience and live to fight another day!  Words to live by, for a runner.

At the start I wanted to be up front, with some of the fast runners that I'm beginning to recognize, one of whom frequents runnersworld.com, "Run Keith."  Keith is a super nice guy and I wanted to say hello today, but there was so much going on I didn't get the chance.

At the start of the race I quickly got boxed in.  The fast group pulled ahead as we rounded the first turn (the first portion was a lap on the track).  There were two girls running shoulder to shoulder in front of me, and a person on each side of me.  The fast group was pulling away.  I knew it would be unlikely I could stick with them, but if I had to catch up to them first, I had no shot.  Still, I broke through and tried.

I'm not there yet.  But I will be.  I have a cardio base, but not a running base. 

I was running well, not sure of my pace as there were no markers and I have a Timex Ironman, not a Garmin,  (come on Santa!).  After I'm guessing three-fourths of a mile a group of three men passed me.  I decide to tuck in behind them.  One of them was wearing the exact shirt I was...and here is the difference between men and women:

Two men wearing the same shirt:  Fast Friends
Two women wearing the same shirt:  Mortal Enemies

Anyhow, I followed him the entire race, moving to his left or his right depending on the wind.  The others in his group would surge ahead, then drop back, but my wind-breaker was pretty steady...but man, he had a LONG stride.  Me, I try and keep my strides short and quick, but had a hard time not dropping in his cadence.

Anyhow, with about a half a mile left, I passed him, wondering if it was too soon.  I caught up to the next one in front.  He heard me, sped up.  I was red-lining, but knew that since we were heading straight into the wind that if I could stay there, I had a chance of passing him too.  I stayed, but as we turned the corner, he sped up and opened a small gap.  I closed the gap towards the finish line but couldn't catch him.

My time was 20:33 on my watch, and I think my overall place was 10th.  Either way, I didn't make my goal of breaking 20 minutes.  However, I will next time.  And no doubt, it was a PR. 

It was cool hearing my mom cheer me on at various times in the race, as well as seeing my wife and youngest daughter.  I always think of my wife as I'm finishing a race or a hard run.  It's doubly cool when she's actually there.

After I finished I recovered quickly and took over camera duties (by request).  My dad came around the corner before my daughter...surprising.  As he said, he walks with a limp but jogs just fine!  He said he felt that 13 minute miles were safe but was pulling down 11:30's.  That's slower than he likes to run, but with the injury, he was happy with it.

I was very proud.  He's been on a similar weight-loss journey as my own and I was proud to see him working so hard.  As far as I know, this was his first ever race that he could run!  We both walked one in July as we both had injuries.  He ended up with a time of 34:40.  Not bad.

My daughter tried to pass some people, went off trail, tripped and fell.  She tweaked an ankle, which she twisted again later.  By the time she got to where we were taking pictures, she was done.  She didn't finish.  However, she's going to try again.  

After the race we hung around for a bit, but really we weren't enjoying ourselves.  It was cold and the wind sucked...or blew.  Either way, my parents left and took my daughters with them to breakfast.  My wife and I would catch up soon.  I hoped to meet some other runners.  But as it turned out, I was in a weird mood, and not feeling quite right, so we left.  As always, food helped.

After breakfast we went back to my parents' house.  I installed a new bike computer on my wife's bike and went headed to Marana, thirty minute drive away, to ride with my wife's dad.  We ended up taking a 25 mile ride in.  My wife and father-in-law ride a little slower than I do, but still, with fatigue, and giving all I had on the 5k, I was glad we were done.

Back another thirty minutes in the car to my parents' house.  We ate dinner, and then drove twenty minutes to a guide dogs for the blind outing.  My oldest daughter is truly an incredible person.  For the past two years she has been volunteering for the organization Blind Dogs for the Blind, raising puppies.  She gets a puppy and keeps it for year, attending weekly meetings where they develop skills and strategies to promote skills with these dogs, so they may become guide dogs.  Anyhow, the outing was a walk through a neighborhood in Tucson, Winterhaven, where the houses are decorated incredibly for Christmas. 

All told, I spent almost five hours in the car, set a PR in the wind, rode 25 miles on a bike and walked around for an hour or so looking at Christmas lights on 8 hours of sleep in the past two days, all while having lost 10 pounds in the past 21 days.  And the best part...while we were all grouchy in the morning in the car, in the evening the car was overflowing with laughter and playful spirit.  All told, an awesome day.

Then I get home with a new package in hand.  This year my family drew names for Christmas.  We would make a present (not buy) for the person we drew.  My brother-in-law drew my name.

Funny what he made for me because just today I was thinking, "How am I going to keep these bibs and medals?  They're important to me and I'd like a way to have them."

He provided hangers for the bibs to be hung on the "Races" plaque, but wasn't sure of the dimensions and didn't install them himself.  What a cool present, huh?

Why Training is Different Than Exercise

El Tour de Tucson is just about 40 days away.  I've not had a significantly long ride in almost a month due to various issues.  My mileage is still ok and my rides are strong, but I'm concerned that I've not properly trained. 

Three weeks after the 111 mile race is a half marathon.  I've had exactly one run where I pushed pace and or distance since June due to injury.  I had a great 5K race over the weekend, but two days later I find myself very sore.  I need to get tempo, speed work, hills and long runs in, and fast.  

And if there's one thing I've learned in the past year it is this:  Fast doesn't happen.  You can't rush progress because you can't rush rest.  I'll do my best between now and then, eat well, rest, stretch and recover with great focus and devotion.  Each workout will have a stated purpose that will be the focus.

The thing is, I want to reach my goals NOW.  I want to qualify as a platinum cyclist and I want to run the half marathon in 1:45.  Is it going to happen?  Yes.  This time?  Well, that's why it's exciting isn't it?  That's why training for a race is different than just exercising to stay in shape.