Race Taper
Monday, 12-01-2008
AM: 57:03 around the Seabrook Trails ~ 9M
PM: 34:26 easy around Seabrook + 6 x 100m uphill ~ 6M
Tuesday, 12-02-2008
AM: 46:54 around the Seabrook Trails ~ 7M
PM: Travel to Baton Rouge, LA
Wednesday, 12-03-2008
36:26 around Highland Dr Park ~ 5.5M
Thursday, 12-04-2008
AM: 48:02 around LSU's Lakes ~ 7.5M
PM: 35:18 around Jenkins Park ~ 5M
Friday, 12-05-2008
AM: 48:42 around the Seabrook Trails ~ 7M
PM: Pre-Race Elite Banquet with Bob Kennedy
Saturday, 12-06-2008
Sunmart 50K in 3:23:04 PR
Sunday, 12-07-2008
31:34 recovery around Jenkins Park with Rudy ~ 4M
Total
82 Miles
* Alright, this has not been fun. Ever since my 2 hr 48 min long run two weeks ago, I have been quite trashed. I fear I may have pulled the roots too soon due to insecurity and curiousity. Basically, I should have saved that 25M run at sub-6:30 pace for this weekend. Oh well, lesson learned. There is still up to $1200 on the line (more like $600 for the win and another $600 for an out-of-reach CR), so I will do my best to finish strongly. I have been unable to finish my daily runs of even as short as 36 min without stopping due to depletion, so this should be quite interesting.
* RACE UPDATE: Where do I begin? Just amazing. The weather ended up being quite perfect on race morning (a bit frigid at 28-degrees), and I was well-rested. However, I did not know what to expect. I awoke to two bananas and water. Drove an hour to the race, chilled in the Outlook listening to music, and then jogged down to the start, used the restroom a couple of times, and then the gun sounded and we were off... 31 miles.
Defending champion, Jim Harrington, took the lead immediately, and I followed closely. I caught him on the steep uphill on the road before entering the trailhead, which was my plan: to be the first runner on the trail. Immediately, I settled into a rhythm and soon enough Jim was talking to me about how cold it was, etc. I offered the excuse of my poor vision as to why I was in the lead. Anyway, after about 3 miles, he started falling off pace, and I was pressing slightly. By 5 miles, I thought I was well away and gone, knowing the trail well. By the first loop of 6.7 miles (no idea on time, around 43-min) I thought I was well-ahead, but there was one guy close behind and the ARMY runner, a 2:32 Austin Marathoner that was fit and which whom I was most worried. So, after a quick chug of soda (almost a big mistake!) and water, I headed off for the first of two 12.15M loops.. the big ones.
The most mentally challenging part of the course was the out-and-back on the perimeter, which I hated and which I knew I would detest. However, I continued to lead at this aid station, dowining my first gel, but sure enough, there was this Montrail guy right on me! He caught me completely unawares! And so, I started off again, down the trail, hammering as best I could. By the @ 15M bridge, I thought I was well away, there was no way anyone had followed my trail, as I expertly maneuvered through what I felt was my backyard.. but sure enough at the bridge crossing, I almost fell into the lagoon by the sight of the runner right on me! I could not take it, mentally, more than anything. I stopped and stretched my quads and let this mystery runner take the lead (he was not an invited athlete). So, I tucked in behind his powerful, low-driving stride. He attempted to gap me on all the bridges, but I would make up ground on the softer terrain. However, soon enough he spoke to me, "where are you from?" and I learned he was from Minnesota... oh, how I started hoping that it would heat up fast!
Luckily, or so, he stopped at the next aid station and I pressed onward, hoping to out-run him with thoughts of Hendrik Ramaala in the New York City Marathon. I hammered well through the trails heading home, but sure enough, on one of the switchbacks, there he was, eating up ground, just stalking me! Aargh, was I frustrated. I had been running hard for close to 2 hours and I had been unable to shake this beast. We hit the second loop and 18.85 Miles in 1:58:00, about a 6:15 pace for more than half the race, on treacherous terrain and hills. I took another quick shot of water, waved to my wife that I was in trouble with this guy, and headed back out for the final 12.15M circuit.
This was do-or-die. I had to break him now. Perhaps he had let me retain the lead because he was tiring. And so, entering the classic singletrack trail, I pressed on, taking curves, constantly thinking "out of sight, out of mind" accelerating through turns and curves, trying to just disappear. By now there were more runners/walkers out on the trail and thus began my next battle: not the course, nor the distance, nor the roots, but the participants, moving out of the way. Sure enough, after another 20-min or so of hammering through the trails, thinking I had dropped my foe, once again, on another switchback, I caught a glimpse of him stalking me once more. My thoughts now turned to my early race visions of spending the $600 winner's prize purse with my girls in Disney World. Now, I saw my check down to $300... my worst fear had come true.. someone had actually TRAINED for this race!
We popped out at the perimeter, about 10 from home and I was toast. I was done. At 2:15:00, I genuflected defeat as he stormed past, trying to hide myself in the masses at the aid station. My day was done. I had nothing. I drank some water, some HEED, anything. I walked. I got going again, only to have my legs rebel, tighten, and cause me to stop. The mystery runner disappered ahead in the distance and my thoughts turned to getting back to my car so I could go home. I started to turn around, but then I thought, man, at least make it to the turnaround (@ 1.5 miles up the trail, all uphill and sandy), so I jogged onward, amazed that no one had caught me. I expected ARMY to appear suddenly, or even the determined John Yoder, an early threat (consistent mid-2:30 marathoner). But no one was coming. I HAD to be able to run 9 miles! $300 were on the line! And so, at the turnaround, I consumed my final gel and headed back to the trailhead. Sure enough, within minutes, ARMY was storming up the trail... "great, he saved it for the last lap," I thought. Well, $200 is better than nothing, I have to be able to finish this thing. By the time I hit the trailhead station, I had yet to see 4th place (final money spot of $100) and so I felt assured of at least $200 and I headed out on the final 8-9 miles to the finish.
By now, I had no fuel. I could not run. I could only go through the motions of running and move my legs, bone upon bone, tendon upon tendon, sinew scraping sinew. My battle now became my carelessness. As soon as my thoughts drifted to winning second place, a root would trash my ankle and send it spiraling in pain. I started to curse aloud, "Gaby, FOCUS!" "come on, man, EXECUTE", as Bob Kennedy had preached the night before. However, I soon resorted to more private thoughts of training on this exact trail... I was entering Middle Earth and all I had to do was make it to the Lower Crust and I would be homefree (all Tolkien images). I could do this.
But here came one of the largest challenges: my fellow ultrarunners on the trail. I would basically whisper, "left", as I ran past, not really liking having to do that, but it is trail protocol. After runner after runner failed to move, I resorted to yelling, "LEFT!" and still the random participant would fail to move and "whoosh" there would go another ankle. Fudge! I soon became delirious. Talking out-loud, to myself, cursing how long the race was, creating conversation with nature and other runners. Many would be impressed, "man, you look strong," so I programmed an automatic response, "as do you, you look great.. keep it going... great job." I was trying to stay positive. By the last aid station, my feet were no longer planting where I wanted them to and I was beyond fear of injury. I just wanted to finish. However, that final trail, which I believe was 2.79 miles, took an eternity. I would not end soon enough. Switchback after switchback, root after root, runner after runner, including a violent guy yelling at me, "hey, you don't have to bump into people!" he yelled. What could I do, I barely had enough strength to keep going, let alone outrun those I was passing.
Soon enough, the trail I wanted to reach came clear, and I knew I was now home free. I had always said, "I can run all of it, but I cannot race any of it" when those asked me about the 50K. I felt I was fit enough to run the 31 miles, but not RACE the 31 miles. Big difference. But here, my mind shifted, and if ARMY was coming on me now, I would race him to the death. Alas, that moment never manifested itself, and I resorted to a crippled sprint to finish as strongly as I could, capping the second 12.15M in a baffling 6:55+ pace (I felt like I was walking).
50 kilometers. 31 miles of trails, hills, roots, sand, runners, averaging 6:32 pace. 3:23:03 total time, exactly 2-minutes behind the winner, Kelly Mortenson, an Olympic Trials Marathoner and sub-2:20:00 guy that placed 12th at the 2000 USA Marathon Olympic Trials. No wonder I could not out-run him.. however, I was surprised at how close I had gotten. He confessed a complete crashing the final 30-minutes. ARMY finished third in 3:27:30 or so. Yoder 4th in 3:49:00.
I improved my personal best by almost 30-mintutes (3:51:28) and had entered the world of a serious ultrarunner, an all-time top 15 performance in this legendary race. And for my efforts, $300 and a bronze/marble Stallion that weighs close to 30 pounds.
Next year, I will train for this... enough of this "well, I train at 6:30 pace on my long runs, so what's 31 miles." Oh, and the biggest lesson learned: don't check if the roots have settled in training. Meaning, that two weeks prior to the race I was insecure, unsure of my fitness or ability to finish 31 miles, hard. So, I drove out to Huntsville and ran for 2:48 min, hard, on the trails, to prove to myself it could be done. Basically, 25 miles of hard, sub-6:30 pace running on the trails. However, I ran much, much stronger that day than on race-day, thus ruining my race performance. Actually, every day after than 2hr 48 min run was complete disaster and depletion and I am sure it did not help on Saturday.
Anyhow, lessons learned, personal bests gained, and happiness for once.. because for once something came true that I believed: I said I could run 31 miles at 6:30 pace at Huntsville prior to the race, and sure enough, I did it.
Now I know I can run 6:15 pace or better. I just need to train for it.
AM: 57:03 around the Seabrook Trails ~ 9M
PM: 34:26 easy around Seabrook + 6 x 100m uphill ~ 6M
Tuesday, 12-02-2008
AM: 46:54 around the Seabrook Trails ~ 7M
PM: Travel to Baton Rouge, LA
Wednesday, 12-03-2008
36:26 around Highland Dr Park ~ 5.5M
Thursday, 12-04-2008
AM: 48:02 around LSU's Lakes ~ 7.5M
PM: 35:18 around Jenkins Park ~ 5M
Friday, 12-05-2008
AM: 48:42 around the Seabrook Trails ~ 7M
PM: Pre-Race Elite Banquet with Bob Kennedy
Saturday, 12-06-2008
Sunmart 50K in 3:23:04 PR
Sunday, 12-07-2008
31:34 recovery around Jenkins Park with Rudy ~ 4M
Total
82 Miles
* Alright, this has not been fun. Ever since my 2 hr 48 min long run two weeks ago, I have been quite trashed. I fear I may have pulled the roots too soon due to insecurity and curiousity. Basically, I should have saved that 25M run at sub-6:30 pace for this weekend. Oh well, lesson learned. There is still up to $1200 on the line (more like $600 for the win and another $600 for an out-of-reach CR), so I will do my best to finish strongly. I have been unable to finish my daily runs of even as short as 36 min without stopping due to depletion, so this should be quite interesting.
* RACE UPDATE: Where do I begin? Just amazing. The weather ended up being quite perfect on race morning (a bit frigid at 28-degrees), and I was well-rested. However, I did not know what to expect. I awoke to two bananas and water. Drove an hour to the race, chilled in the Outlook listening to music, and then jogged down to the start, used the restroom a couple of times, and then the gun sounded and we were off... 31 miles.
Defending champion, Jim Harrington, took the lead immediately, and I followed closely. I caught him on the steep uphill on the road before entering the trailhead, which was my plan: to be the first runner on the trail. Immediately, I settled into a rhythm and soon enough Jim was talking to me about how cold it was, etc. I offered the excuse of my poor vision as to why I was in the lead. Anyway, after about 3 miles, he started falling off pace, and I was pressing slightly. By 5 miles, I thought I was well away and gone, knowing the trail well. By the first loop of 6.7 miles (no idea on time, around 43-min) I thought I was well-ahead, but there was one guy close behind and the ARMY runner, a 2:32 Austin Marathoner that was fit and which whom I was most worried. So, after a quick chug of soda (almost a big mistake!) and water, I headed off for the first of two 12.15M loops.. the big ones.
The most mentally challenging part of the course was the out-and-back on the perimeter, which I hated and which I knew I would detest. However, I continued to lead at this aid station, dowining my first gel, but sure enough, there was this Montrail guy right on me! He caught me completely unawares! And so, I started off again, down the trail, hammering as best I could. By the @ 15M bridge, I thought I was well away, there was no way anyone had followed my trail, as I expertly maneuvered through what I felt was my backyard.. but sure enough at the bridge crossing, I almost fell into the lagoon by the sight of the runner right on me! I could not take it, mentally, more than anything. I stopped and stretched my quads and let this mystery runner take the lead (he was not an invited athlete). So, I tucked in behind his powerful, low-driving stride. He attempted to gap me on all the bridges, but I would make up ground on the softer terrain. However, soon enough he spoke to me, "where are you from?" and I learned he was from Minnesota... oh, how I started hoping that it would heat up fast!
Luckily, or so, he stopped at the next aid station and I pressed onward, hoping to out-run him with thoughts of Hendrik Ramaala in the New York City Marathon. I hammered well through the trails heading home, but sure enough, on one of the switchbacks, there he was, eating up ground, just stalking me! Aargh, was I frustrated. I had been running hard for close to 2 hours and I had been unable to shake this beast. We hit the second loop and 18.85 Miles in 1:58:00, about a 6:15 pace for more than half the race, on treacherous terrain and hills. I took another quick shot of water, waved to my wife that I was in trouble with this guy, and headed back out for the final 12.15M circuit.
This was do-or-die. I had to break him now. Perhaps he had let me retain the lead because he was tiring. And so, entering the classic singletrack trail, I pressed on, taking curves, constantly thinking "out of sight, out of mind" accelerating through turns and curves, trying to just disappear. By now there were more runners/walkers out on the trail and thus began my next battle: not the course, nor the distance, nor the roots, but the participants, moving out of the way. Sure enough, after another 20-min or so of hammering through the trails, thinking I had dropped my foe, once again, on another switchback, I caught a glimpse of him stalking me once more. My thoughts now turned to my early race visions of spending the $600 winner's prize purse with my girls in Disney World. Now, I saw my check down to $300... my worst fear had come true.. someone had actually TRAINED for this race!
We popped out at the perimeter, about 10 from home and I was toast. I was done. At 2:15:00, I genuflected defeat as he stormed past, trying to hide myself in the masses at the aid station. My day was done. I had nothing. I drank some water, some HEED, anything. I walked. I got going again, only to have my legs rebel, tighten, and cause me to stop. The mystery runner disappered ahead in the distance and my thoughts turned to getting back to my car so I could go home. I started to turn around, but then I thought, man, at least make it to the turnaround (@ 1.5 miles up the trail, all uphill and sandy), so I jogged onward, amazed that no one had caught me. I expected ARMY to appear suddenly, or even the determined John Yoder, an early threat (consistent mid-2:30 marathoner). But no one was coming. I HAD to be able to run 9 miles! $300 were on the line! And so, at the turnaround, I consumed my final gel and headed back to the trailhead. Sure enough, within minutes, ARMY was storming up the trail... "great, he saved it for the last lap," I thought. Well, $200 is better than nothing, I have to be able to finish this thing. By the time I hit the trailhead station, I had yet to see 4th place (final money spot of $100) and so I felt assured of at least $200 and I headed out on the final 8-9 miles to the finish.
By now, I had no fuel. I could not run. I could only go through the motions of running and move my legs, bone upon bone, tendon upon tendon, sinew scraping sinew. My battle now became my carelessness. As soon as my thoughts drifted to winning second place, a root would trash my ankle and send it spiraling in pain. I started to curse aloud, "Gaby, FOCUS!" "come on, man, EXECUTE", as Bob Kennedy had preached the night before. However, I soon resorted to more private thoughts of training on this exact trail... I was entering Middle Earth and all I had to do was make it to the Lower Crust and I would be homefree (all Tolkien images). I could do this.
But here came one of the largest challenges: my fellow ultrarunners on the trail. I would basically whisper, "left", as I ran past, not really liking having to do that, but it is trail protocol. After runner after runner failed to move, I resorted to yelling, "LEFT!" and still the random participant would fail to move and "whoosh" there would go another ankle. Fudge! I soon became delirious. Talking out-loud, to myself, cursing how long the race was, creating conversation with nature and other runners. Many would be impressed, "man, you look strong," so I programmed an automatic response, "as do you, you look great.. keep it going... great job." I was trying to stay positive. By the last aid station, my feet were no longer planting where I wanted them to and I was beyond fear of injury. I just wanted to finish. However, that final trail, which I believe was 2.79 miles, took an eternity. I would not end soon enough. Switchback after switchback, root after root, runner after runner, including a violent guy yelling at me, "hey, you don't have to bump into people!" he yelled. What could I do, I barely had enough strength to keep going, let alone outrun those I was passing.
Soon enough, the trail I wanted to reach came clear, and I knew I was now home free. I had always said, "I can run all of it, but I cannot race any of it" when those asked me about the 50K. I felt I was fit enough to run the 31 miles, but not RACE the 31 miles. Big difference. But here, my mind shifted, and if ARMY was coming on me now, I would race him to the death. Alas, that moment never manifested itself, and I resorted to a crippled sprint to finish as strongly as I could, capping the second 12.15M in a baffling 6:55+ pace (I felt like I was walking).
50 kilometers. 31 miles of trails, hills, roots, sand, runners, averaging 6:32 pace. 3:23:03 total time, exactly 2-minutes behind the winner, Kelly Mortenson, an Olympic Trials Marathoner and sub-2:20:00 guy that placed 12th at the 2000 USA Marathon Olympic Trials. No wonder I could not out-run him.. however, I was surprised at how close I had gotten. He confessed a complete crashing the final 30-minutes. ARMY finished third in 3:27:30 or so. Yoder 4th in 3:49:00.
I improved my personal best by almost 30-mintutes (3:51:28) and had entered the world of a serious ultrarunner, an all-time top 15 performance in this legendary race. And for my efforts, $300 and a bronze/marble Stallion that weighs close to 30 pounds.
Next year, I will train for this... enough of this "well, I train at 6:30 pace on my long runs, so what's 31 miles." Oh, and the biggest lesson learned: don't check if the roots have settled in training. Meaning, that two weeks prior to the race I was insecure, unsure of my fitness or ability to finish 31 miles, hard. So, I drove out to Huntsville and ran for 2:48 min, hard, on the trails, to prove to myself it could be done. Basically, 25 miles of hard, sub-6:30 pace running on the trails. However, I ran much, much stronger that day than on race-day, thus ruining my race performance. Actually, every day after than 2hr 48 min run was complete disaster and depletion and I am sure it did not help on Saturday.
Anyhow, lessons learned, personal bests gained, and happiness for once.. because for once something came true that I believed: I said I could run 31 miles at 6:30 pace at Huntsville prior to the race, and sure enough, I did it.
Now I know I can run 6:15 pace or better. I just need to train for it.