XC Club Nats--A Blessed 2011

12/14/11
I'm starting to think about what happened on Saturday in Seattle.  It seemed like such an ordinary sort of day.  But I know it was not.
I don't take more than a minute off my best 10K every day.  In the mud.
Now I have a cold, but I don't care.  It was worth it.

12/22/11
On December 10, I ran a personal best by 70 seconds for 10,000 meters.  That's about 11 seconds faster per mile than a year ago at the same race, but in comparing all the data, the Seattle course with it's mud was about 20-30 seconds slower than McAlpine a year ago.  Maybe I can break 34 minutes in a year.  That would be great.

I didn't feel my best going into the race.  Travel was tough to the Pacific Northwest as we knew it would be.  As time would tell, a cold was coming on.  But I didn't feel particularly bad either.  Legs were surprisingly loose on the Friday shakeout run on the course.  I was having a great time with teammates and I just generally had my head in the game.  I felt calm and focused.  There's not much to tell about the race.  I ran the first 5K in 17:10 and the second 5K in 17:19.  I knew I would be near the back of the race and having experienced that sensation last year, I was okay with that.  I knew my teammates would do their thing and I would not be a factor in the scoring.  Basically, I knew what to expect and I didn't set my expectations too high.  Still, I was expecting to run much faster than I ever had before.  So there was plenty to keep me focused and nervous.  I went out pretty smart, maybe a few seconds too fast, but I held back as much as I could.  I consistently passed runners throughout the race and only lost ground in the final sprint.

I wanted to negative split, (run the second half faster than the first), but the course made that goal very tough.  It got muddier with each 2K lap and each hoof that trampled all over it.  I took wide lines rather than running the tangents and I think that was the fastest way around.  I wanted to push a button and really pick it up at both the 6K and the 8K mark, but the legs didn't have an extra gear.  The ground was just so soft and didn't give back much at all.  I was working harder, but still running the same splits or a second or two slower per kilometer.

Only real disappointment, I thought I was a little weak mentally in the last 2K.  I knew it was going to be a big PR, under 35 minutes, and I think I settled.  I knew I was the 7th runner and my score would not count for the team, but it was no excuse.  I should have pushed harder.  I think 15 seconds faster could have happened if I was just a little tougher mentally.  I should have raced every jersey in the last 10 minutes of the race and next time I will.

Still, the outcome was predictable.  I told the church a few days before, great day--33:59.  Bad day--35:00+.  I got out of Club Nats what I put into my training all fall--a huge PR and one of my most successful races ever.  Can I go faster?  Absolutely.  I had said all along that my intention was to take cyclocross more seriously next fall, not be in running shape this time next year, but now I am not sure.  I really love running and I want to keep moving forward, quietly, patiently, wiser for what has occurred in 2011.  Perhaps some cycling and swimming in the summer and then back to what I know and love best.


...I'm still sick, but who cares, really.  Even my immune system knew when to break down.  The only exercise I have done in the past 12 days was a long run at Uwharrie (could not pass up that opportunity) and a cyclocross race in Winston (I performed dreadfully with a smile on my face).  It is as if my body simply said, "We will not perform, not now.  It's our time off."  I think of my body as parts in case the plural seems odd.  My body has been in a hibernating, recovering, putting on weight sort of mode.  But it's time to get back off the couch.  Time to pull out of this chest/sinus virus and get back to work.  I ran 11 minutes steady today and felt terrible.  No problem.  Tomorrow I am waking up early to run with friends.  I don't expect it to feel great.  I just expect to show up.


Training goals leading to Boston...but there is no rush in the next month.  As 2011 becomes 2012, I just need to run and enjoy it.  Run fast.  Do other stuff like INSANITY: THE ASYLUM^™ which is on the way from Team Beach Body. The running goals are very simple.  Over a 10 week period from January 30-April 7, I will accumulate 1440 Kilometers (a little over 900 miles).  Flesh that out with a lot of long runs, progression runs, speed work like 400s and mile repeats and a bunch of hills.  All that and I should be able to run about 2:40 at the Boston Marathon on April 16.

I may seem overly confident, but here was my 2011.
I keep up with seven Personal Records or PR's as we call them.
Mile
5K
8K
10K
10 mile
Half Marathon
Marathon

In my 36th year on the planet, and my 28th year of competitive running, I set PR's in all those distances excluding the 5K.  I have never had that kind of sweeping success at anything.

What did I do???

• I pastored the Tobacco Trail Church.  I consider the training and racing one of the most important aspects of my pastoral ministry in God's church and my personal prayer life.  Church and running feed one another.  They always have, but 2011 was the first complete calendar year of my life when I was pastor of a church.  I don't think the athletic success is unrelated.  Others will disagree, but that gives us something to talk about, and that something is Jesus.
• I ran more miles--a lot more.  As many as 85 per week this fall with one or two hard speed workouts.  In the Spring my marathon training peaked at 100 miles in a week.
• I took Juice PLUS+ every day.  All fall I doubled the dosage.  I also drank a lot of smoothies.  I think these two contributed to less sugar consumption and more front-loading of nutrition early in the day.  I didn't lose a lot of weight, but people thought I did.  So, I guess my body changed.
• I ran with a lot of friends.  Most consistent training partner was Jason and less consistent, but still very important, the rest of the Bull City Track Club.  This whole network meant a lot of accountability, fun, encouragement, discipline, tweaking workouts and probably 20-30 extra runs that I would not have done in years when I had fewer running peers and very few faster harriers to chase.  I ran a lot those other years too, so 20-30 extra runs in a year is a decent addition.  Sometimes running with faster people can beat you down, but you skip a few runs with the group and run by yourself.  If I had to choose, I would run with the pack.  It works for wolves and such.
• I wrote more about running.  It helps me put it the experience in perspective and enjoy the process.
• I worked at a running store and I am always being encouraged and educated by others successes and even failures.  Running can get pretty lonely, even when you train with others, but hearing how it is going from hundreds of other runners really helps me stick with it.  I am a part of an extensive running community which includes Bull City Running Company and BCTC, Trailheads, Godiva, and running friends all over the country.  Runners are weird.  Most of us will admit to this fact.  But we love running and we recognize the benefits of sharing it with one another.  I've always done this, but it grows and grows as the years pass and 2011 showed a steady growth if not a spike.

Even with all this I am still scratching my head.  I feel truly blessed by God.  Like I have been struck with a gift and one that I must not take for granted. Cumulatively on my six PR distances, measuring from 2010 and earlier I improved 26 minutes and 33 seconds.  I feel like I have started over as a runner--been re-purposed.  I don't want to be greedy and I remind myself that I hope to be participating in this activity 40 years from now.  But I don't want to squander this gift either.  I think, no, I know, I am still a runner.   Maybe next fall I can shave a few seconds off my 16:25 five kilometer mark.  Easier said than done, but I can do it.

Umstead Race Details--March 5, 2011

Weather was high 40s at the start and low 60s at the finish. Windy but fairly protected by the trees.

I woke after a fitful night of sleep feeling hungover with a sinus headache. I was still coughing up sludge out of my chest and my sinuses were blocked up. Oh well, I have dealt with this many times. The real test will be how my legs feel during a brief warm up.

I drove over with my teammate, Alicia, and coffee and conversation were starting to release me from the fog. We both seemed relaxed and in good spirits having each run hundreds of races. We got our bibs and did the usual pre-race small talk with friends. I saw the competition and tried to shut out the negative self-talk. When I went to check my legs, they felt great. I thought, the training has really paid off along with the easy week leading up to today. I had been running 70 miles per week for about six weeks and that is a lot of volume for me.

At the gun, I took it out much harder than the previous two years.

I wanted to break things open, because this race tends to start out very casually and I wanted to get to work early. More importantly I had two tough goals before the finish. 10 miles in 65 minutes and 20 miles in 2:10. This meant averaging 6:30 pace throughout the first 20 miles. I knew that with the single-track, which included two new miles on Sycamore, and all the hills this meant lots of 6:10-6:15 effort. I was confident I had the fitness for this endeavor. I wasn't really sure who else would be interested in this sort of work and somehow I was content to race the clock and not others.

The best marker that things were well on course or even ahead of schedule was around mile five. There is a very steep hill on the Sycamore Trail and I anticipated good news on the clock. This is shortly before the course pops off the single-track and turns left toward the aid station and turn-around on Graylyn. In years past I have seen this mile split at about 7:50. This year I clocked 6:40. That's fast if you know the hill. I was really clipping along and the proof came when the 10 mile marker showed 64:30 (6:27 pace) on the clock. At that point, I was alone in 2^nd place and feeling very good about exceeding my first goal.

Soon I was making my way out on the Turkey Creek Trail trying to find a rhythm like I have had on many tempo runs these past few months. These miles (11 and 12) are along a steady down hill and I clipped off 6:12 and 6:05. The sun was starting to make its' presence known louder than the mild tempartures, but nothing unrelenting. Drink as much as my heaving stomach could take and all would be well. I remembered a run out here in the Fall that was a bit too hard an effort and I kind of blew up on the tough hills on the backside of Turkey Creek. I hoped the same would not be my fate today.

I was doing okay. Blasting the downhills and making up time wherever I could. I knew holding 6:30s was only going to get tougher and I had to really concentrate and go deep into the hurt locker searching for motivation, oxygen, guts, muscle tissue, songs—whatever could take me further and further into the struggle.

As the pain intensified so did the demons. Strides were becoming a little more numb as the minutes clicked forth. Each step hurt more than the one before and doubt and self-flogging would creep in against a fierce opponent--Reality.

Doubt would interrupt: Run up here to the end of Graylyn (about 14 mile mark) and drop out. That will be a great workout. You can still run those 5Ks at the end of the month you were planning. Maybe even break 16 minutes.

It's a saavy deception that doubt tries to play.

Reality chimes in: What are you talking about? This can be your day. You can break three hours. Stop trying to renegotiate. Shut up and Run.

Sounds harsh, but it is actually a much kinder word.

The slightly schizophrenic runner looms inside us all, or so I hear (or would like to believe). On some level, it's a blood sugar issue. Still, the voices must be shut out. All I needed to see was the closest thing to 6:30 at each mile marker. That was my job. Short goals. Short assignments. Every few minutes clear and rational feedback as to my progress. No new deals. No renegotiating. Not now.

The day was immaculate. Hikers and bikers leisurely enjoyed the quiet Northern side of the park. They looked on with something like pity. I got it. Why put the body under such distress on a perfectly good Saturday?

Spring was reaching out to all of us. The wind was clearing out the debris of Winter from tree tops. Birds chirped and busied to welcome new family members. I huffed and puffed under great distress.

All the way out to the turn-around again on Graylyn and then back on Turkey Creek. I could only give the thumbs up to passing runners. It was all I had left and I was thankful for their words of encouragement, but mostly I could only gesture.

I reached the 20 mile marker in 2:11:30 (6:34 pace). This was 90 seconds over my goal, but still it gave me a very realistic shot at breaking my bigger goal. If only I could run a 48 minute 10K I would break three hours for the marathon. I knew I could do it even with the looming hills ahead—Corkscrew, Wheel Fell Off, and Cemetery. The goal was in sight.

It wasn't the prettiest 10K ever, but I moved my legs as quickly as I could. I was in a rush even though I knew the pace would slow. I had run 20 miles on a hilly course and basically felt like that could have been the end of the days work. But I wanted to see “two” on the left side of that finishing clock.

I knew I was being stalked by runners behind me, but I didn't let it get me down. Whether I fended them off or not, I had my goal in sight. I ran a humbling 46:20 for the final 10K (7:27 pace), but it was far from a blow-up and brought me to the finish in 2:57:52. George IV and Kathryn ran with me from the 26 mile mark. I knew they were there, but I could only look straight ahead and pump my arms as fast as they would take me. It was my day.