Ten on the Tenth

Non-Runner Nancy is at it again, getting us couch potatoes out from in front of the TV and into the great outdoors. She fired the starter's gun for the third virtual race she has set up, Ten K on the Tenth.

Because the race has a caveman theme, I ran the 10K with my club yesterday, that is, with the 10K Group (TKG) Training Program my club puts on. It was the twelfth and last session before the target race, the Capitol Hill Classic 10K next Sunday. A group of 31 well intentioned souls had winnowed down to about eight runners who were apportioned out among up to five coaches each week. Since it was raining yesterday, the coach/runner ratio was an exceptionally high 1/1. Not even the promotion of handing out program t-shirts could induce a greater turnout in the drizzle (much less my promised Pre-Race Strategy lecture, which in the wet circumstances consisted of the exhortation to stay hydrated, remember your chip and be on time). (Left: I tested out the Program shirt last week at the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati. It worked fine, and even drew comments from three passing runners over the saying on the back, Get Used to the View.)

We ran the race 10K course, having met in Stanton Park in the District, its starting and ending point. The course is basically a rectangle, 3 miles long and a quarter mile wide. Its purpose is to tire you out for five miles and then run you up the third of a mile long Capitol Hill in the sixth mile as your rite of racing passage.

I ran the race last year and although I knew the hill was coming and I had run it often in training, I floundered on it and felt like I was swimming uphill for three minutes. It was awful. (Right: The 10K course.)

I set out yesterday with MA and we ran east past Lincoln Park to RFK. We eschewed running around the back side of RFK like the race does because there are no sidewalks or shoulders back there but we made up the distance later. Heading west, we returned to Lincoln Park on East Capitol Street and then ran south to Pennsylvania to run by Eastern Market. Running north to regain E. Capitol Street (where, despite 18 years spent in DC, I got lost momentarily and we ran astray for a few blocks), we turned west again and ran behind the Capitol. After a short jog over to Independence, we ran down the race's signature hill. Running a few extra blocks at this point to make up the distance we skipped at RFK, we then ran in front of the Capitol and hit the final mile at the base of the hill. We went up it smoothly but I still arrived at the top gasping, totally out of breath.

In my fog of fatigue, I got to thinking about the pint of blood I donated the prior Monday at the airport in Cincinnati. I have a theory that blood donations knock the stuffings out of your endurance capabilities for a couple of weeks and I had purposefully waited til after my marathon last Sunday to donate. Here was another brick in the wall of my theory, however.

Top of the hill attained, we ran it in the last half mile to the park for a 55:04 10K training run. A nice tune-up for the actual race. I think MA is going to be my star pupil.

Monday Night Footmall

Yesterday was a lovely day after a long cold winter. I was going to do a club 12K race mid-morning that runs on forest trails around a lake about thirty miles from my house but I got involved in projects and didn't go. Then I was going to do a long run, maybe a 16 or a 20-miler, but I didn't go out. I watched the day go by out a window.

Finally at 4 pm I decided to do a virtual 12K race to make up for the race I had not done earlier. It would be a very efficient "race" since there would be no transit or waiting around time. I went to the curb and set out.

I turned the first uphill mile in 8:18. It would have been faster but I passed by a penny and went back to retrieve it. A lucky penny, I hope.

I didn't know any more mile reference points til at 5 miles, I hit the W&OD Trail. At MP 8 on the trail, a mile from my house, I backtracked up a big hill to MP 8.5. Most satisfying, I passed one of those low-rider bicyclists on the hill.

"You need a lower gear," I said helpfully as I went by. He looked at me sharply. The tension on the trails between bikers and runners immediately came to the forefront.

"Actually I need a higher gear," he said. What the heck do I know?

Reversing course again at the half-mile marker, I ran back to MP 8, turning that mile in 8:48. I got home in 1:05:55, my 7.5 miles done at an 8:50 pace. Not exactly race pace, but good enough for a decent outing on a glorious afternoon.

Tonight after work I ran from Union Station to the Watergate where I met up with Sasha to run on the Mall. She calls this run Monday Night Footmall. We ran up behind the Capitol and back, nine miles for me in 1:26 (9:33). Sasha definitely was leading and I had to force myself to keep up, thinking I used to be faster than her. The darkness, uneven surfaces and hills were all bothering me.

Afterwards I jumped on a subway and rode to my stop. The car was too crowded for anyone to be able to move away from me in my sweaty clothes. Then I ran from the station to my house, a familiar mile even in the dark, in 7:25. That was a nice cap to my evening.

Once More

This weekend there were two races I wanted to do, a club half-marathon on Saturday and a metric marathon today. But since I didn't want to pay $40 for the metric marathon, and I like to do the worst first, I flipped the races and ran them both as virtuals yesterday and today.

The club Half would have been free for me since I'm a club member. Can you imagine, a free supported Half-Marathon? For non-members, it's $5. You can read the metric marathon account (and splits) in my last post.

That's a lot of running for me for a weekend, 16.3 miles and 13.1 miles back-to-back. I lay in bed a long time this morning feeling cozy and warm before I finally arose, laced up my Brooks Addictions and headed out to MP 7 on the W&OD Trail behind my house. After my virtual metric marathon of 2:19:58 (8:36) yesterday, I was sore and listless today. No energy. (Left: MP 7 on the W&OD on the bridge. Beyond, the blue & red sign in the second storey window is one of the two Bikram Yoga studios in the DC area. Once you do your 14 miles by running to the trail's head and back, you could go over there to get relief for your aches and pains by doing deep stretching routines in Hot Yoga.)

That was immediately apparent as my splits today started out about 30 seconds slower than yesterday's. Going to the turnaround at the trail's end, I ground out 8:30, 8:38, 8:38, 8:44, 8:44, 8:30 and 8:49. 1:00:35 (8:39) for seven miles, 3:19 slower than yesterday.

Coming back was just a slog. I felt like I was deep in the throes of a marathon and I worked on resisting the urge to walk. 8:57, 8:47, 9:07, 9:02, 9:14, 9:19, 9:14, with a finishing time of 2:04:19 (8:53) for 14 miles. A slippage of 4:37 from yesterday. My pace was off by 20 seconds per mile a day after running 16 miles. (Below: Looking WB on the W&OD Trail in Falls Church.)

Along the way, I passed by my virtual half-marathon finish line in 1:56:05 (8:52). Too bad I couldn't claim the time I passed the same line yesterday, 1:51:40, but yesterday I was working on my virtual metric marathon and you can only do one race at a time.

I just wanted to break two hours for the half today. I also wanted to see if I could do two long races, albeit virtuals, in two days. I have run thirty miles for the weekend and dropped nine pounds since Friday. I'm going out for pizza now.

What's an anomaly?

I thought that maybe running 14 miles in 1:57:26 (8:23) with M last Friday might have been an anomaly--a good training run time created by running with a considerably faster runner, having a huge tailwind for half the run, and benefiting from the subtle ministrations of M talking me past the wall as I started my typical plodding routine around the thirteenth mile.

The truth is, I haven't been pleased with my running for awhile. I was starting to suspect that maybe I was falling prey to, well, getting old. Or that perhaps my pre-race dinners of Cheez-Its and Millers were starting to catch up with me.

So this morning I set out to recreate that run alone, as part of a slightly longer run that simulated a metric marathon being held tomorrow in Columbia. That way I would save two hours driving time, gas and the $40 entry fee. I call these runs "virtual" races and I do two or three each year. 26.2 KM is 16.28 miles, BTW.

Off I set from MP 7 on the W&OD Trail behind my house. Last week's splits are listed in my last post. Today they went like this: 7:59, 7:59, 8:07, 8:13, 8:19, 8:20, 8:18 to the turnaround at MP 0 in Shirlington. 57:16 (8:11) for seven miles compared to 55:44 (7:58) a week ago. Not bad so far. I have run in three actual 7-mile races, and this would still be my second best one.

Coming back I headed into a strong wind (again) and slowed down considerably: 8:44, 8:52, 8:47, 8:50, 9:01, 9:07, 9:02 for a fourteen mile total of 1:59:42 (8:33) compared to last week's 1:57:26 (8:23). So running with a faster runner is worth about 10 seconds per mile. (Left: Looking WB on the W&OD Trail about 400 meters before the bicycle bridge.)

I stupidly hadn't brought water and I longed to go into my house at this point to get some, but I knew that if I stopped now, I'd never return to the run. I had brightly brought a solitary Gu though, and although it was hard to get down sans water, consuming it in the twelfth mile revived me and enabled me to finish the run.

A further mile out, and back again, and a guesstimate quarter-mile route to the 7-11 store brought me to the end of my virtual metric marathon in 2:19:58 (8:36). I have done one actual metric marathon and I missed beating that time by 15 seconds. Dang! I got some work to do.

Running after Chicago

Chicago got bad reviews. I'm back to running after the debacle of Chicago.

Thank God I only do marathons once because I don't ever want to go back there to run that marathon again. Here's what the director of the Chicago Marathon had to say to us about our "experience."

Dear Runners,

For 17 years I have been honored to serve as Executive Race Director of The LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon, a race steeped in a 30-year tradition of providing the ultimate marathon experience for runners.

The record high temperatures and humidity at Sunday’s race made for a challenging day for marathoners. The conditions on Sunday presented me with the single most difficult decision I have ever made as race director. While that was a frustration to many, I stand behind the decision to end the race early– it was a necessary safety measure. However, I also recognize that because of the conditions and my decision, many of our runners did not have the experience they trained for and expected.

As an organization dedicated to providing the very best experience in the industry, the results have left us disappointed as well. Our team has spent the last several days reviewing the details and we are listening to runners, staff and volunteers. Rest assured that we take the day’s events - and your comments - seriously.

We are reviewing all details and feedback as we plan to continue the tradition of our race in 2008 and beyond. Offering the best experience possible to runners always has been our priority and it remains a commitment of the highest importance.

My personal gratitude goes to each of you, as well as to staff and volunteers, for participating in the race this year. I share in your disappointment, if you did not have the experience you expected.

I certainly hope to be able to greet you at our finish line in the years ahead, in the grand fashion that has characterized The LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon for so many years.

Sincerely,

Carey Pinkowski
Executive Race Director

There's a lot of the "I" word in there from Mr. Pinkowski. Do you see a hint of an apology? A scintilla of a mea culpa? Any indication that they might have screwed up? Any word that they're going to do better next time? Any offer of a future consideration? I don't.

The system broke down due to high but predictable water consumption rates by runners and there was no means to get fluids to the back-end runners, who are the very lifeblood of this World Marathon Majors race. These runners, paying their hefty entry fees, create the huge cash pot that fuels the enormously lucrative World Majors standings from which Chicago benefits so much. Past Olympic Marathon champion Frank Shorter wrote an article which is a much better elucidation on what happened at Chicago, with a blueprint for lessons to be learned from it.

Chicago is a great city. On the other hand, Chicago was a great place to visit, its people were fabulous (like New Yorkers, except they'll actually stop, listen and answer your questions--polite midwesterners, you know) and the crowd support for its great run was stupendous. Yay for Chicagoans! They rose to the occasion. As I travelled through the battle zone that was the back end of the Chicago Marathon (prone bodies scattered about), every downed runner I saw was being attended to by somebody.

My virtual 5K. But I haven't come to bury Caesar. After literally limping out of Chicago a week ago with my worst time in my last half-dozen marathons, watching four toenails turn a deep ebony and another four turn various shades of mottled purple, I ran a race today. It was what I call a virtual race, a run in my location that equates in time, distance and topography to a race being held elsewhere. Take your pick, I either ran the new course at the Maryland Race for the Cure 5K in Hunt Valley, MD (north of Baltimore), or the 5K version of the Second Annual Phedippidations World Wide Half Marathon.

RFTC5Ks. I enjoy doing Race for the Cure 5Ks around the country. I have done them in DC, Baltimore, Denver, Columbus, Minneapolis, Princeton, New York, Philadelphia and Richmond. I didn't go to this year's Maryland RFTC because I would have had to get up at 4 am to drive there and gas would have cost me $20 (thanks W for war and high gasoline prices) on top of the $40 entry fee. Sixty dollars for an ugly t-shirt.

Charlie. My good running friend Charlie (I'll actually run with him someday soon because I have recurring business in Denver currently) introduced me to the notion of the Phedippidations World Wide Half Marathon which is being "run" this weekend. It has a 5K component. I can't log onto the race's site for some reason but I get the point.

Running in Denver. As recovery after my marathon last Sunday, I ran a mile on Tuesday and was pleased to bring it in under eight minutes (7:56). On Wednesday I was in Denver taking depositions and I cleared my head after an all day session of sparring with lawyers (just poke me in the eye with that sharp stick now) by running a nice easy three miles at a ten-minute pace along the Platte River with my co-counsel L. I got stuck in Denver an extra night because I missed my plane out of there on Thursday (DIA is a long way from Denver) but yesterday morning I ran another mile and a half at a 7:30 pace. I was feeling much better than during the first few miles of the marathon because my cold is almost all gone now.

The race. I figure the Maryland RFTC must be flat. The Phedippidations race, being a virtual creation in the first case, is anything I want it to be. How about flat? At 9 am sharp I set off from the end of my driveway and ran up to the W&OD Trail. There I pushed the pace down its straight and flat length to the turnaround point at 11:24. I managed a negative split of 11:16 on the return because some of the last quarter mile is sort of downhill. 22:40 for my virtual 5K. It felt great.

Susan. But before anyone says, Great Job (any time under 23:00 is a great time for me, my PR is 21:58 set in 2001), I think my "course" might be a little short. But still I was really working hard, thinking of Elijah and his battles as I tired. My good running friend Susan acquainted me with Elijah's courage (perhaps you know that my life is a search for heroes. Elijah is one). I know I had a good hard run.

I come to bury Chicago, not to praise it. As for Chicago, I want to forget it. I'll tell you this fact. Running long while on antibiotics is no fun.

My Virtual 20K Race

What is a virtual race?

That's what I call a "race" I run of a real event that I don't attend due to cost, distance or circumstances. It's a run that I do by myself in a local venue of equivalent distance as the actual event. My "race" starts on the same date and at the same time as the specified program. Later I look up the results and see where I would have placed.

Although it's more than a tempo run, I rarely go at actual "race pace" because when I'm running alone it's hard to force myself to go at that effort for the entire distance. That's why I'm always slower in a virtual race than I would be at the real race. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

I do two or three "virtual races" a year of real races that I wish I were actually running. Although my times are unofficial, of course, and I don't count them for PRs, I do record them in my personal results because my running mindset during them is different from even a hard training run. I call each one the "Virtual [insert name of actual race here]".

Virtual races are fun. They enable me to participate in any race in the world. One rule I have is that I always try to approximate the actual terrain of the race.

For instance, last May 21st, I "went" to Wheeling, WV and "ran" in the Ogden Newspapers 20K Classic. Only I ran it on the last half of the first National Marathon course here in the DC area. This superseded course is devilishly hilly, as I imagine any race in West Virginia must be.

I remember it was already hot on that Sunday morning when I pushed off at 8 am from the "starting line" at the John Philip Sousa Bridge on Pennsylvania Avenue. I ran over the shimmering water of the Anacostia River and turned north at Minnesota Avenue. That was the end of any level running.

Running alone through the blighted streets of SE and on the soulless highways in PG County was depressing. I didn't see one other runner during the entire time and pedestrians seemed surprised to see me running by. Several cars honked and drivers gesticulated at me to get out of the way.

I wilted on the hellacious hills east of the Anacostia, especially the gargantuan one in Fort Dupont. I hit it in my third mile and could barely manage it. As I ground up it, I reflected on my friend Bex's first marathon on the same course two months earlier. I pictured her running up the same hill in the fourteenth mile, alone, hair flying, right knee severely gashed from a fall, with the seven hills of hell on Central Avenue still to come in the last six miles. I wondered if her first marathon had scarred her for life, then I remembered her tremendous resolve and decided, Naww.

An hour later I was on those same infamous hills, only I thankfully reached the "end" of my 20K race on the third hill. I barely shuffled over the imaginary finish line in 1:59:47, a gruesome 9:38 pace. If it hadn't been a "race" I would have quit the run long before that. I gratefully boarded Metro to ride back to my car in the District.

Oh, I placed 402/617 in the Virtual 2006 Ogden Newspapers 20K Classic. Not a good showing at all.