Mile 429: Rock-Hoppin' Runner

Huh. It's been a while since I last posted. I'll catch us up a bit with the stuff that happened between then and now:

I ran.

Ok, now that's out of the way. The reason I finally decided to post something now, is because I had something mildly interesting to post about. Until roughly 7:30 this morning, running this week has been kinda dumpy. I won't get into all the dumpy details - I'll just talk a little about when it turned around.

I was around 16 miles into a very lonely long run in unfamiliar territory. For the second time this week, I'd planned a route that included a road closed to public access, so I was kind of winging it, just trying to get the miles in and not get too lost (like Thursday... but I'm not talking about that). I happened to be near a beach, and I ran out to the end of the parking lot where there was a trail leading off around a big sand dune.

Soon, I was running through the sand, and not liking that one bit.. but there was this big rock seawall next to me. It looked interesting (and stable), so I hopped up onto it and started running out towards the ocean on these big, 3-6 foot boulders with maybe 1 foot gaps between them. There were plenty of opportunities to take a colossal, season-ending digger. I am not sure what possessed me to make a little game out of it... I tried to run as fast as I could along the rocks (which according to Garmin was about a 10 minute mile - it was not easy going). By the time I got to the end I was out of breath and giggling a little bit. I stood there grinning like an idiot for a minute and taking in the nice ocean view, then decided to run back the way I'd come (grinning and giggling).

It doesn't sound like much, but it was probably one of the most exhilarating moments in my recent running history. Sure, it was also the stupidest thing I've done on a run in a long time, but it was completely worth it.

Mile 101: Learning About Shorts

Mile 101-ish, or thereabouts. It wasn't until I put them on that I realized I'd packed those shorts today. The ones that I've only worn once before, because they are half as long as all my other pairs. They've been sitting unused at the bottom of the shorts bucket for at least five years. How on Earth did they end up in my bag today?

I almost didn't leave the building. I almost decided I would just have to run in the evening. But it was such a nice day out. The unseasonably wonderful running weather is nearly gone, and I just had to go do it.

So I headed out of the building, self-conscious about the pale and unfamiliar areas at the tops of my legs. For a while it was all I could do to keep from tugging down on the legs (if you can call them that) of the shorts, trying to see if the fabric would suddenly cover more. But soon, I was just running and kind of forgot about my wardrobe.

Until the breeze hit me. I had a moment of pure clarity on Lake Austin Blvd. Now I get it. Now I understand why some people run in these things. I was better off not knowing. I foresee some tough decisions ahead of me this summer.

Mile 59: Do what you gotta do

59 miles into my new training program, I found myself running shirtless past a cage filled with screeching cockatoos. I am pretty sure they were trying to tell me to put a damn shirt on.

Or maybe they were commenting on the rest of my attire, which consisted of cotton briefs, sleep shorts, and a pair of shoes that have been relegated to three main tasks since 2011; 1. lawn mowing  2. hiking, and 3. catching beer spilled by drunk-but-excitable concert-goers. 

Though I enjoyed the experience, the next time we take a quick weekend vacation I will (probably) pack some running gear.

Chuy's 5k

It's all over. The final Chuy's 5k has come and gone. (sniff)

As most people reading this probably already know, I have been trying to get in the top 3 in my age group in this particular race for several years. Really, I have been trying to break into the top 3 in my age group for *any* race for several years - it's only happened once. But this race, in particular... there's a history there, which can be summed up quickly:

In 2008, I ran a nice PR, then saw I was 3rd AG on the unofficial posted results. Stuck around to claim my prize (a painted wooden fish) only to find that a timing glitch placed me 4th instead.  That was the beginning. Since then, I've placed 6th, 14th (that was an off year), 4th again and 7th.

Back to now:

Today, I ran a really solid, consistent race. The weather was about as perfect as it's going to get for this time of year - cool and dry. I passed the first mile at 5:55, feeling good. Up and over the mostly-insignificant hill, I felt great. I started passing all the runners who were fading from going out too fast. By the second mile, I was starting to really feel it - the burning in my lungs telling me that this is a 5k, not a half or full Marathon. The burning in my throat telling me that the air was really, really dry.

I passed the second mile at 6:00 flat. At this point it was between me and another runner in one of the ubiquitous red "beef" singlets. As far as I could tell, there weren't any other runners right behind us. Either that or they were really silent ninja-folk whom I could not hear.  Up ahead, I could see my friend Patrick, but he seemed so far away that I wasn't going to focus on catching him. I was going to focus on beating Beef. 

Beef had been three steps in front of me for about 1/4 mile and I passed him for the first time near mile 2. Then it was a little back-and-forth game all the way up William Cannon. When we turned into the parking lot for the last quarter mile of the race, I got in front of Beef, and I thought he was gone for good. Then I saw that we had reeled Patrick in quite a bit with our little contest.

So I focused on Patrick and slowly gained on him until we were right next to one another. He recognized me and said "I'm not going to let you beat me, Bill!" We both poured on everything we had left. He proved to have just a little more than I did, finishing a couple steps ahead of me. Beef had more energy still, and ended up blowing by us both.

I didn't see my watch at mile 6, but the geek-o-meter says it was a 5:53, followed shortly by a 45-second 0.14 miles at the end.

I crossed the finish line with a 13 second PR - 18:35. Woohoo!

Then, it was time to see if I finally caught my fish. The computers they had on-site to help people check their results wouldn't pull my name up. The volunteers directed me to "the van" with several other people. At the van, they told us that they were working on it, and we should go away. A short time later, a new line formed at the van, and I walked back over, where I was told that I got 2nd place in my AG! (Don't get too excited yet... I didn't). They were obviously having some troubles, and after stalling as long as they could with the raffle drawings, Evil finally said "Hey everybody, there's a problem with the timing. Go home. Check online. Email us if you won something, and we'll get it to you."

So I did the first couple steps. In the online results, at least at the moment, I got both 4th and 5th in my division, separated by 10 seconds. Both 4th and 5th?  Yeah.. they were having some issues. The one that actually matches my watch and bib number is the one in 5th place. Who is #4? I don't know. Maybe Beef. Whoever he was, I hope he gets his name back (and I also hope he's in a different age group!). Until further notice... 5th AG, 32nd overall.

I can't complain. I had a great race today. I felt good, ran well, and ended up with a new 5k PR. In the race against all the other "me"s who have done this course in the past, I was first overall, even though I'm older than all those other schmucks. So I'll just have to make my own fish trophy.

Sunshine Run 10k

Well, it certainly didn't turn out the way I had visualized it. I was hoping to run under 40 minutes again, and improve on my Cap 10k time from just a few weeks ago. Instead, I came in a little over 3 minutes slower, at 42:58. That put me at 19th overall, and I managed to stay true to my tradition of being "not quite good enough to place" in my age group (I got 4th).

Even though I've used the phrase "It wasn't my day" to describe the race to a few people, I don't think that really applies here. I was having doubts beforehand, but once the race was underway, I felt like it really was my day. Mile 1 felt like a breeze, and it was on track for my plan. Maybe a tad faster than it should have been, but it felt slow and easy.

Things changed near the end of the second mile. It feels like it's been quite a while since I have had a side stitch during a race, so I guess I was due for one. And, well that's pretty much the rest of the story.
I got what felt like the mother of all side-stitches, (they always feel like the "mother of all side-stitches" when you're having one) and I just could not get rid of it for the rest of the race. I made what felt like a valiant effort to run through the it for the next three-ish miles, trying to breathe differently, run differently... nothing was helping, and I just kept returning to a shallow, hitching breathing pattern trying to manage the pain.
Eventually, the lack of oxygen started to catch up with me and I could feel my fingertips get tingly, so I gave in and stopped pushing it. The pain didn't change, but I was getting enough air.

That's the bad. But there's always good, too. I got to see a ton of friends out there, too many to really list here. I do have to mention Brent Weber, who gave me some encouragement on the course (as he was blazing past me in the fourth mile). It was nice to have a little company.

Tons of friends from work were there too, since we sponsored the race. That fact also meant that Silabs runners had what felt like their own personal "cheer tunnel" at one of the water stops. That was awesome. It was enough to turn my grimace into a genuine smile for a short time.

And everyone in my family ran today too! I (just barely) finished in time to go run the kid's k with Penelope. She wasn't real excited about it for the first half... there were some tears (most of them were hers)... but once we rounded the corner and started on the way back, we had a nice chat about all the dogs she had seen running the 10k (Ben was somewhere far ahead, finding his competitive spirit). And the three of us got to cheer on Stephanie in the 5k and provide her with some high 5's as a team.

Maybe the other bright side here is that I just ran most of a 10k at something slower than my marathon pace. I'm not beat up at all! I don't think I'll even notice it tomorrow. That's good news for next weekend. I am going fishing at the Chuy's 5k one last time. I think there will be a ton of competition, but I also think this year is my best shot yet at bringing home one of those silly wooden trophies.

Splits: 6:24, 6:39, 6:56, 6:53, 6:55, 7:13, 2:06 (a little extra on that last - took a while to think about stopping my watch)

2014 Capitol 10k

Forty minutes.

I have been chasing forty minutes in a 10k for what seems like forever. I've fallen just shy of breaking 40 a couple times, even though Athlinks would tell you my 10k "PR" is 39:38. That's a lie. That was for the infamous-in-my-head "wrong way 10k" in October 2007, where I most likely didn't run even 6 miles, let alone 6.2. It wasn't my fault, but it still burns a little.

I didn't think today would be any different. Well... I mean different as far as time goes. I was pretty sure they wouldn't send us on a wrong turn and leave us running only 5.8 miles for the Captain K. Anyway, I have been training for a different 10k a few weeks from now, and wanted to run this race as a bit of a tune up before the "main event". My time trial a couple weeks ago suggested I was in shape to run yet another 41-something. So I didn't really have my mind set on breaking 40 today. I was hoping to get under 41 though.

Getting to the punchline here - I finished in 39:47!!! That's exactly a one minute PR!

It was a pretty good day overall. Before the race I ran into several people I hadn't seen in a while and got to catch up a little on how they were doing. The weather was nice - cool, just a tad wet. The rain may have kept some of the runners away, but it seemed just as crowded as ever. The race organizers seemed to be having a few challenges with their PA system though. If there were any speeches about anything, I didn't hear them. It was about halfway through the national anthem that most of us realized it was being sung, and the race started without a bang.. or an airhorn, or any audible announcement of any kind. I was near the front and it seemed like we just kind of took off at 8AM. It was kind of weird, especially for such a gargantuan race. Or maybe I am just losing my hearing.

The first three miles were kind of uneventful, except that I felt like my legs were pretty much toast after the big hill on Enfield. But then I passed the 5k mark, seeing 20:08 on my watch, and the idea of going under 40 resurfaced in my head. It rejuvenated me somehow, and for at least two miles I forgot about my legs and just tried to speed up a little bit. In typical fashion, I started tanking out between mile 5 and 6 when my lungs caught fire and they reminded me of my legs. But I just kept hanging on and hoping. When I could finally see the finish clock, I knew I had it. There was enough energy left to finish with my arms in the air.

Splits: 6:42, 6:20, 6:21, 6:08, 6:16, 6:29, 1:31

And now, the after-party. I checked out my placement online. 115th overall, and 12th in my age group! Nice! Nicer if I could have made it to the top 10...

I guess that's something to shoot for next time I run this race. Plus, I still have to obliterate my silly pseudo-PR from 2007. Maybe I can do that second one three weeks from now.

Austin Half Marathon 2014

"Good morning Chris, half awake and half ready?"

It was intended to acknowledge a tradition of sending each other a text on Marathon morning. Of course we were both running the half instead of the full. So it was appropriate that I sent it about half an hour too late. Chris had already left his home and his phone along with it, thus cementing the half-ness of it all. When we met downtown to make our final preparations for the race, Chris even mentioned that he'd half expected the Marathon morning text.

In reality, I wasn't even half ready for this race when I sent the text (but I was probably close to half awake). I was kind of dreading the whole thing. But sitting in the lobby of our building, being vaguely nervous alongside a vaguely nervous Chris helped to get me mostly ready to at least head to the start.

I didn't have the best race. As far as finish time is concerned, it was my worst half in... a very long time, even though I managed a respectable 1:33:44. But it is almost exactly what I expected, given the amount of real "training" I did. I think I even recall someone asking me on Friday how fast I was going to run it, and I am pretty sure my response was 1:33 (Everett might even be able to back me up on that, because I am pretty sure he was standing there, if not the person asking the question).

It sounds like I am having a little pity party here. That's not really the case. I am disappointed in myself for how I managed to go from "Austin is going to be my best half ever!" in December to "Boy this race is going to be a train wreck!" as of two weeks ago.

No.. I didn't have the best race. But I actually had a pretty good day, race included. It started with just seeing Chris's familiar face in the morning. Before the race, I also ran into other familiar faces - Jacob, Kim, Declan, and Joe. Each of them managed to lift my spirits in their own ways. By the time the gun went off I was mostly ok with the idea of running.

The first five miles were pretty much just a painful blur (the "why"of that I may or may not get into here). I didn't really relax until the descent on South 1st street. Maybe I knew my family was up ahead, or maybe I was looking forward to something other than uphill, but things changed for the slightly better, or at least my quads finally shut up and let me do some thinking.

When I did see my family, it was a huge relief. I got some much-needed high-5's and the beginnings of a smile may have formed on my mouth.

Then Gundy sidled up next to me. I don't recall our brief conversation verbatim, but it was something like this:

Gundy: "Oh, hey Bill! How's it goin'?"

Bill: "Hey Gundy! You know, I didn't even want to roll out of bed this morning."

Gundy: "Yeah. But you did."

Bill: "That's right. I didn't last year."

That's right! I didn't last year! Or rather, I rolled out of bed, gave it a brief go and then rolled right back in. Yes, I was sick. It was a completely different situation. But that afternoon when I felt better, I was kicking myself for not going out and running this race. I was kicking myself for weeks, and in one way or another, all year. Those four words made all the difference. I didn't start running any faster, I just started running happier. After all, I was running!

The rest of the race was not so bad after that. I got a boost from more and more familiar faces along the way - Kim on the 1st st. bridge, Everett & Mandy around that corner, Michael & Jenny turning onto Enfield, Kim again on the big hill... several Rogue coaches and runners, and a few others who have probably slipped my mind. I got a little bit of energy from each of them, and used every ounce.

After the finish, I ran into a handful of other people (including Kim again - she must own a teleporter... or a bike or something - or maybe I was just hallucinating), and we all lamented our poor races. Then I went to work for a quick shower and headed up to mile 18 of the full course to transform into a spectator for a couple hours.

Penelope's teacher, Mr. Valdes, was running the full Marathon, and I met my family up there to cheer him on. He and his sister were actually the only people I was expecting to see. Instead, I saw a bunch of people I had no idea were even running the Marathon that day. I am not sure I even remember everyone who came by, but I will give it a shot... Gina and Alicia, Mark and Amy A., Amy B., Danny (it's been like 10 years!), James and Jordan leading a pace group, Kathleen, Tauseef, and of course Mr. V and his sister. I probably missed a few. I know that half of you saw me before I saw you.

In the words of my daughter, who is much better at this cheering thing than I am... (big breath) "GREAT!" (big breath) "JOOOOOOB!" I had as much fun cheering you on as I did running (the part of the race that I enjoyed... not the sucky stuff).