Cougar Mtn Series – 5 Mile
Saturday was the first real “test” in this whole Fremont 5K PR project Brett and I are undertaking. Other than seeing track splits get slightly faster week to week, there’s nothing like a race to see where you’re at. Next week I plan on taking part in the West Seattle 5K, so that will be an even better test. Five(.14) miles through the trails of Cougar Mtn though, a race I’ve done three times before, could also provide some fitness illumination. My prior efforts:
2008: 33:59
2009: 33:31
2010: 33:41
I didn’t know these times heading into the race. If I had to guess, I would have guessed my PR here was “low 33.” So…close.
There are no real mile markers other than the lone aid station being “around mile three.” Not that it would matter much as I wasn’t carrying a watch. There are a couple checkpoints near the end that I’ve figured are “about five” and “about two” minutes from the finish line. Since I have a pretty poor memory, these are helpful in a sort of “how much fucking longer?” aspect. The light appears at the end of the tunnel when I finally hit these points. Until I hit them, all I know is the grim fact that I have more than five minutes of misery left.
During the Thursday track workouts, it’s been slightly deflating to see that, while my times are improving in our various-length repeats, it’s not like I’m ahead of my 2008 or 2009 self. I go back in my blog and see myself running 4×1 mile workouts, by myself, averaging about a 5:20. Or running 12×800, averaging a 2:40. I’m simply not ahead of that guy at all, and all he could muster was a 16:40 way back when. I’m now a few lbs heavier (not confirmed…but I’m pretty sure) and a few years older (typically not helpful for speed), so it’s not like I’m thinking this is going to be some soft PR to break next month.
All this is to say at Cougar Saturday, I was merely hoping to be “around” my prior times. Had I known those times, I would have been fine with anything between 33:30-33:59. Then I could tell myself I have another few weeks to get faster and then get my ass under 1000 seconds once and for all.
The weather was pretty perfect. Probably close to 60 degrees at the start, and sunny. About 1/2 mile into the race, we entered the single track. I was in 8th. I passed a guy…then another guy on the first hill climb around a mile-ish. Then another guy passed me around the same time. And that was it. All by myself. I knew where the final “climb” was, shortly after mile 3, so I crested it and hit it as hard as possible to the finish. There are some relatively long straightaways around here, and while I could definitely feel the effects of our mile repeat workout from 1.5 days ago, I also felt I was moving pretty well (on the flats/downs that is; on the hills I was feeling weak and sluggish). Though I make it a requirement to never look over my shoulder, I was confident I would not be caught. And towards the end, right before my “5 minutes” checkpoint, I actually caught a glimpse of the guy in front of me, who I hadn’t seen since the long straightaway to the mile 3 aid station. There wasn’t enough daylight to catch him, so for most of the race the primary motivation was simply getting as low a number on that clock as I could.
I came out of the forest and saw 32:50 and counting on the finish line timer. Just a tiny bit more motivation and soon enough I was done. 32:57, 7th place. I quickly became skeptical. The course record was shattered by about 40 seconds (though not by any slouch). Fifth place guy (a 53 year-old) PR’d by 30 seconds. The runner-up was over a minute faster than his previous best. Fourth place was about 40 seconds faster than last year. Was it all just ideal weather and mostly-pristine trail conditions? I can’t really think of any place the course was different than in years past.
So best case scenario, I’m ahead of the 2008-2009 version of myself. Worst case, I’m in the same ballpark as that guy. I think I’ll have a much better idea in about six days.
Retrospecticus – April 2012
The differences between 5k and ultra training became pretty stark this month, as I was in full-fledged “Fremont 5K” mode with no ultra races getting in the way. Even more consistent than April 2011 (2nd-highest mileage month of 2011), I still had nearly 100 less miles. Mainly thanks to a mere 7.4 mile/run avg vs. an 11.4 avg in April of last year. Of course, the average length run in 2011 was over 90 minutes. This past April was only 54+ minutes.
While the runs are shorter, they are faster and more controlled and contain at least one serious effort each week. Tuesdays are often also hard, and I’ll throw in other fast bits and pieces throughout the rest of the week. As a result, I’ve not been immune to injury. The past week or so has seen a slight flare up of pain in the left shin (it’s been almost all-concrete miles), and the end of this weekend’s 20+ miles saw my left achilles getting a little vocal. The specimen himself, Brett, has even found himself with some foot discomfort. Not sure the extent but it enabled me to “beat” him at the most recent track/hill workout…so it must be horrendously painful.
I have two *planned* races in May (Cougar 5 mile this coming Saturday, West Seattle 5k the following weekend), and we’re almost one month to the day until the Fremont 5K. So hopefully lots of ice and being judicious on rest will keep everything at bay.
Running is hard.
2012 vs 2011 vs 2010 Month Miles Time Off Apr '12 186 22h39 5 Apr '11 274 36h16 6 Apr '10 165 20h55 11 Tot '12 765 103h22 31 Tot '11 860 109h53 29 Tot '10 736 93h15 39
Shoeless Joe
Trying to start a recurring feature at that ol’ SRC site. Uli Steidl showed some trust and agreed to be my first subject. It was fun. Terry took some pics that still make me laugh.
Shoeless Joe Interview #1 – Uli Steidl
There’s not really much of a point in my posting a link here. Chances are if you’re reading this, you already saw my link on FB…or on the SRC site. But as a historical artifact, I’m just being a completest.
Hey I Wrote Something For Somewhere Else
Being a small but INTEGRAL part of the Seattle Running Club, especially its web presence, I will feel somewhat obligated to contribute some words now & again, even if my words hold no weight and might actually embarrass other members of the club. Plus it makes me feel like a big shot. So I wrote about how despite my forays into the marathon & beyond distances these past few years, all I care about in 2012 is a piddly little 5k. And I how I will crush all comers and COME AT ME, BRO!
Check it out?
Retrospecticus – March 2012
Not a whole lot to report in March. The numbers are spectacularly similar to 2011 and 2010. I ran Chuckanut, which was pretty fun. I recovered for a few days, and since then I’ve been hitting the speed work relatively hard. This includes regularly scheduled track workouts with Brett (if you’d like to observe and/or cheer, it’s usually set for the Garfield High track, Thursdays at 5pm. Please bring gifts.)
In the early part of the month, I finally finished the new (and improved?) Seattle Running Club website. Despite the relative grandiosity of the website, it pales in comparison to all those goddamn wiffleball websites my brother and I made back in the day. But it still took me awhile and getting it done was a pretty big monkey off the back. I look forward to continue working on the site and helping it grow. But in my mind the hard stuff is mostly over. It’s been nice being able to once again fantasize about impossibly ludicrous race performances during my solo runs instead of fretting about the SRC site’s to-do list.
2012 vs 2011 vs 2010 Month Miles Time Off Mar '12 223 30h42 8 Mar '11 226 27h48 9 Mar '10 226 29h11 9 Tot '12 579 80h43 26 Tot '11 586 73h36 23 Tot '10 571 72h21 28
2012 Chuckanut 50k
This was what I needed.
The winter here in Seattle simply will not end, and I’ve been feeling the effects. Though I “run hot,” temperature-wise, I don’t mentally consider myself a cold-weather runner, and to be frank, I’m tired of this shit. The end of 2011 and all of this year has had me yearning for the sun and the warm weather and the short, fast races that end half an hour before I would ever consider opening a vanilla gu. Despite this renewed need for speed, I signed up for the famed Chuckanut 50k. Not out of an intense desire to run the course; more to cross it off the bucket list. This was going to the 20th anniversary of what has essentially become the most competitive 50k in the country. Everyone who runs it enjoys it, and it’s only 100 minutes north of me. I felt kind of foolish calling myself an ultra-runner (only on facebook and to anyone I meet for the first time, but no one else, don’t worry) and having to later state “well, I’ve actually never run Chuckanut. Wait, where are you going?” when the topic would inevitably come up. So when they expanded the race to 1000 people, promising me I would not have to set my alarm on a Saturday in order to register, I went ahead and signed up, even if it didn’t fit into my spring/summer plans of track laps, short shorts and scalp burns. After Orcas ravaged my ankle, I recovered and was able to put in a few weekends worth of decent trail hill prep.
I didn’t have a great handle on what I could expect from myself on race day. I looked at 2011′s times, and estimated I should maybe gun for something in the 4:45-5:00 range. (This was a pill to swallow. Since Chuckanut is so competitive, that sort of time would have me finishing while many better runners were already in civilian clothes, three beers in.) I studied the elevation profile just so I wouldn’t be too surprised by climbs or descents. I packed 3 packs of Clif Bloks into one handy baggie that fit into my short’s pocket, stuffed a couple gels into a waist pouch thing, and filled one bottle with two nuun tablets (flavor: pink). I decided to wear my Brooks Launches. The tread wasn’t super…but I didn’t want to be wearing my mud-caked, workboot-esque Mizuno Wave Riders on a course that has about 14 miles of flat gravel road.
The big dogs about :02 into the race. Not pictured: Me.
Photo: © Michael Lebowitz/LongRun Picture Company
On race morning I tolerated Patrick‘s presence until the gun went off, and quickly found myself behind a guy with monster calves. While I was quietly admiring him and conniving a way to start a conversation with him, I realized it was Adam Hewey. Adam is a much better trail runner than I am, but on the roads we’re probably pretty even, so I just sat with him during the 6ish miles of flat road. After a few miles, Bill Huggins joined us. Bill is also usually faster than I am on the trails. On roads though, we’re all 2:50ish marathoners, so I enjoyed appearing to be in better company than is usually prudent for me at these types of races. Someone said “45 minutes” as we hit the first aid station and started the single track climb into the middle miles. I didn’t stop, having barely touched my bottle thus far. Neither did Adam, who soon disappeared ahead of me, his calves glistening in the morning light, threatening to explode. Bill stopped to stock up, so our sausage-fest was over for the time being.
And this is where I got what I needed. The month of trail climbing I’d done before this race gave me the legs to handle the ups and downs or Chuckanut’s middle miles, and the fucking amazing conditions found me actually by god *enjoying* myself once again on the trails. There were moments I forgot I was even “racing” (as much as someone like myself can claim to be “racing”), I was so distracted by the idyllic scenery and conditions. Adam Lint, hampered by a sore hamstring and a thimble-sized bladder, was in & out of my view throughout most of these miles. He’d pull away on a climb, I’d catch him back on a flat while he watered the trees. Snow was gently falling throughout most of these middle miles, the trails becoming less and less visible the higher we got. This culminated with a spectacular time along the ridge trail section. The day before, fellow first-timer Patrick was asking me if I had any idea why the ridge trail was labeled “difficult” on the course map even though it looked fairly tame, climbing-wise. I didn’t know. A mile into it though, I knew. The technical trail along with the fresh snow was providing an invigoratingly dangerous and fun stretch of miles. Later on, after I was done, Claire was commenting on the absurd amount of finishers ahead of me who’d come through the finish line with bloody knees. I’m guessing most of this blood was drawn on the ridge trail. I was relatively nimble enough to come out of it unscathed and relatively strong enough to not get passed by runners like an old lady on the interstate. I probably even held my place.
Sure enough though, party time ended. My muscles were getting tired and food intake was becoming more of a requirement than a suggestion. At a certain checkpoint in the late-teen miles I heard a guy with a clipboard announce I was in 50th place. And suddenly I had a focus, however-slight. I had no watch and no idea what I was on pace for…but I could easily keep tabs on my place from here on out (about a mile later I’d lose track). Bill Huggins finally caught back up to me early on in the famed Chinscraper climb (he’s in the jacket behind me in this glorious action shot of me) and while I figured I was done in terms of competing with him, I was mildly proud of myself for having held him off for as long as I did.
The climb ended more quickly than I was fearing and soon we were flying on down the Cleator Rd fire road. I found this ~3 mile stretch very similar in style to the 6ish mile drop from Suntop at the White River 50. This time though I handled my shit much better. No walking! No watch but I’m sure I was also dropping some respectable splits, able to go about as fast as could be expected considering the 21 prior miles and my garbage downhill form. I hit the last aid station, passed a couple stragglers, got passed by one guy who didn’t need aid, took a breath, and headed out for the horrible final 6.5 miles of flat gravel road to the finish.
This was the loneliness of the long distance runner. One of the earlier stragglers, a fast road guy who lives mere blocks from me, passed me…I then passed him back. Pam Smith, the eventual 4th place woman, passed me. And that’s it. Other than that, I was completely alone with my eye-rolling thoughts and weak attempts at motivation. I thought of my old high school xc buddies and how they would have loved this course, especially Clint. I thought of my college xc coach and his funny malapropisms…then remembered I didn’t run college xc. I thought of how I was just a few miles from being done with ultras for the year. DONE! Done with multi-hour long run weekend obligations. I tried to pretend I was chasing Brett down this road which was now a mere road 10k race against a bunch of jobber high school kids, not the final fifth of a 50k. I thought of my gf and how it was her birthday in two days and whether I should blow her a kiss when I see her at the finish, or do the mere wink + finger gunshot motion that cool guys do in movies. I thought about what the time on the hopefully-present digital clock at the finish line would read. “Wouldn’t it be cool if it said 4:20?” I thought to myself. Followed by “Ok let’s do a one minute surge. Count it out…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 (look over my shoulder, see nobody)…..ehh fuck this.”
I knew I was getting close and I was definitely bonking. Out of Bloks though, I wasn’t about to fumble with a gu and get that shit all over my hands, so I just tried to hold on. A volunteer offered an “I’m sorry” smile, stating “five more minutes!” and I was surprised to find that unlike Scott McCoubrey, she actually seemed to overestimate the distance…or underestimate me. I could soon hear cheering…then I could see flags…then thank god a finish line. The clock was suddenly all up in my business and I was initially a little disappointed to see 4:39 (pdf), 47th place. Minutes later though, less delirious and less focused on “4:20,” I became solidly happy. This was a very worthy effort. No idea how the course Saturday compared to years past, but I have to guess it ran slower with the snow and mud. Though I’m in much better shape than at Orcas, that’s not saying much and it is still just mid-March. The only real walking occurred on Chinscraper.
The course itself and the conditions/weather was, as I mentioned earlier, fantastic. I immediately started recommending the races to other people on simply these merits, even though it was the only time in Chuckanut’s 20 years that it snowed. [Edit: Trisha Steidl corrects me in the comments. Still, snow is rare.] I couldn’t help myself though; this was the type of thing I’d given up road racing for. With a slew of sub-par trail performances recently, I’d lost sight of that. The strongest memory I have of the race, other than Pam Smith’s butt getting smaller and smaller after she passed me at mile 28, was giggling like a little kid with Adam Lint in the beginning of the ridge line trail. Forgetting for a minute that I was racing and this was supposed to be serious business.
Many thanks to all who volunteered, even though I shattered my “least amount of time wasted at aid stations” PR. I was enjoying myself out there, but my core temperature stayed high with my effort. Those standing still at an aid station, or sitting in a lawn chair with a clipboard, probably weren’t as lucky. Thanks to Krissy Moehl and Ellen Parker for opening up the race to 1000 and letting me sleep in on sign-up day. Your race is everything I heard it’d be and more. And of course thanks to Claire for being there at the miserably rainy start, the sunny finish, and in general.
Gear I used but was not provided or compensated for in any way:
Brooks Launch shoes (Hewey says Brooks is killing this pair)
Cougar Mtn Series socks (that’s as much as I know about them)
Length-wise, my least offensive shorts (Nike)
No underwear (sore later that night :( )
Old Seattle Running Company tech shirt by Brooks (navy blue)
$2 Target threadbare gloves with functional tear in pointer fingers to enhance usability and appear more homeless.
Some head/ear band thing I have no idea where I got it but really accentuates my baldness.
Band Aid brand nipple guards
Food
Breakfast:
1.5 Clif Bars (Coconut Chocolate & Oatmeal Raisin)
Banana
Odwalla smoothie (12 oz)
1 cup Rodeway Inn coffee (ass)
Water (~12 oz)
During the race:
3 packs of Clif Bloks (citrus, orange, wild cherry)
2 vanilla Gu (took 1 vanilla Clif Shot from an aid station but never used it)
1 bottle strawberry lemonade Nuun, refilled a few times with whatever sport drink they were peddling at aid stations (let’s call it ~36 oz all told).
Retrospecticus – February 2012
Despite the extra day, this wasn’t what I would call a hefty month. I write so infrequently these days for some reason that my last post, from about a month ago, explains why. Remember that grotesque foot of mine? I wouldn’t say the foot/ankle is quite 100%, but it’s a bit closer to 100% with each run and at least looks mostly human again. So after 8 days of nothing following Orcas Island, I feel safe and comfortable with an otherwise normal load. Even if I still don’t quite feel totally comfortable on tight turns or anything that involves any enhanced mobility. I wouldn’t be too useful on a basketball course, in other words. But shuffling on a trail? Fine ‘n dandy.
I’ve made it out to said trails for a number of consecutive weekends, punctuated by climbing and descending that I did *not* provide myself leading up to Orcas, so I should at the very least be in better shape for Chuckanut in a couple weeks. Each excursion to the trails also serves as a confidence builder, at least once I make it back to my car without having re-sprained my delicate ankle. Yesterday was about 22.5 and nearly 4:30 on Cougar and Squak Mtn. The *run* aspect of the run was pretty underwhelming (I bonked pretty bad late…eating a pack and a half of Clif Bloks with about 5 miles to go seemed not to help at all), I was merely happy to get back to the car with two ankles intact. I was then horrendously saddened on my way out of town to see that the Matthews Thriftway did not have 5th Avenue bars.
2012 vs 2011 vs 2010 Month Miles Time Off Feb '12 148 27h44 12 Feb '11 203 19h57 4 Feb '10 159 20h21 7 Tot '12 356 27h44 19 Tot '11 359 45h48 14 Tot '10 345 43:09 19
