Below are the details of my Philly marathon on Sunday November 18th. It's a race I've run 6 or 7 times, but this one was different than all others...
When I first decided to run this race as a fundraiser for Arden, almost instantly I knew that I wanted to have a special shirt made to wear during the race. During my 23 previous marathons (and numerous shorter races), I've encountered vast numbers of people wearing shirts dedicated to those in need, those who are ill, and those who have passed on. As focused as I get during my races, I still take the time to say a prayer when running by someone wearing a shirt like this. Its hard to not feel something when you see these runners and just as hard not to wish them peace or whatever it is they seek. In addition to the obvious physical benefits or running, the emotional ones can be just a significant. You can run for introspection, to relieve stress, to plan to conquer the world, to cope with loss, or to escape your pain and demons. But to run for someone else...that is something entirely different.
Over the summer, I trained for a race where I'd be running with a teammate for the entire race. 5 days. 108 miles. That was pressure. I put a lot of pressure on myself to make sure that I trained hard enough so that I would not let my teammate down. It dominated my thoughts and my life for nearly three months. But running for Arden was not the same. Since I learned of her illness, rarely do I go more than a few hours without thinking of her, Amy, and Rick. For those of you who know me, you know I like to be in control of things. I also like to help people whenever I can. I try to be there for my friends when they need me. But what can I do for Arden? Pray, visit, offer support. I don't feel like I'm doing enough. I can't do enough. If I could run another marathon on Monday to help Arden, I would. If I had to run on Tuesday, I would. If I had to run until they carried me away on a stretcher, I would. Like my summer race, this, too, has dominated my thoughts yet I feel powerless to do anything. Running is the one thing I excel at and can control...the least I can do is try to turn it into something to help Arden. This race is for all of us who care and pray for Arden and want to whatever we can to help.
In many ways, Sunday morning began like most other marathon mornings. An anxious and restless night's sleep followed by a reluctance to remove myself from the warm comfort of my bed. It also began like every morning has for the past five weeks since I heard the news about Arden. Saying a prayer as I glance at the picture of Arden that I've placed next to my clock radio. Today's race will be different. Regardless of the time that I finish with or the runners that I pass, it will be a great race. Though I did have a goal time in mind (3:02:32, 7:00/mile) that would not be today's metric for success. To borrow the often corny cliche 'Just getting to the start line is a victory', today, for the first time in any race EVER, I felt that way. I always have a goal time that I strive to achieve. Even if I'm running a race 'just for fun', there is a goal. Today was different. The generosity that all of you have demostrated made the day a success regardless of my finish time. My goal of helping all of you help the Buchers has been achieved.
Approaching the city through the morning's drizzle and gray clouds, I allow my thoughts to begin focusing on the race. My excitement finally begins to build as I exit the Schuylkill and enter Drexel's campus. There is a brief moment of reminiscing, both of my time on campus and of my previous Philly marathons. I park in my usual area, along 31st Street next to the seemingly endless tracks of 30th Street Station. Almost immediately after exiting my car, two women who are running the marathon ask me "Who's Arden"? I join them in their light warm-up run to the start and tell them Arden's story. Both obviously have children of their own and have shed tears before we even get off of 31st Street. I then remember that I'm holding a giant black magic marker with which to decorate my legs. I ask one of the women to write "God Bless Arden" on the backs of my legs and she gladly obliges. After a final exchange of good luck for the race and well-wishes for Arden, we go our separate ways.
Walking around the start area was very different today. Overall 12000 people are involved in the marathon, half marathon, and 8k. There are probably another 12000 friends, family members, and volunteers. Most runners blend anonymously into the crowd. Maybe one out of fifty catch your eye. The really old, or tiny, or large, or outlandishly dressed stand out. Those who 'look fast' draw my attention. And then there are those who are wearing shirts detailing their cause. I normally like to imagine that people see me and think "That guy is fast"! But today, I am not that guy. I have a darling little girl's face on the front and back of my shirt. A few people approach me to inquire about Arden and wish her well. Most runners simply read the shirt, make eye contact, a give a solemn nod before going their way. These silent exchanges, though brief and seemingly cold, are warming. Many of us are in our own world as the start time approaches but these people have read my shirt and wished Arden well. They have ever so briefly added their thoughts and prayers to the rest of our's in Arden Nation.
The race start is delayed until about 7:15am as the police are busy removing illegally parked cars along the course. Conditions, in my opinion, are ideal. About 42F, threat of rain, and not a ray of sunshine in the sky. I'm attired in a hat, gloves, a long sleeve T under Arden's T, and shorts. It hasn't rained at all, yet, which means that we're at least starting the race dry and didn't have to stand around in the rain. The horn sounds to start the race and I'm standing off to the side. I'm watching hundreds, then thousands of people begin their journey. My mind wanders. How many are experiencing their first marathon today? How many are running their last? Trying to qualify for Boston? Running for a cause like myself? Everybody has their unique story. I wish them all success and a happy ending.
Five minutes have passed and I don't see myself starting any time soon. Seven minutes go by...still no indication that I'll be running soon. With over 10000 marathoners and half marathoners sharing the same course, I'm beginning to get somewhat anxious about what I've gotten myself into. Trying to scamper through the throngs of people at the back of the pack is not going to be easy. As the eighth minute passes, the crowd has become very thin. I'll be starting momentarily. At almost exactly nine minutes after the start, I adjust my attire, double check my shoelaces, start my watch, and cross the start line. Hold on! Its going to be a bumpy ride trying to navigate the crowd.
All of us at one point in our lives have been running through a crowd people people who are standing still or walking slowly. While doing so, you're simply hoping that nobody makes a sudden, unexpected move or change in direction because if they do so, its going to be messy. You all know that feeling, right? Well, now imagine doing it for over an hour and you can get a feel for the adrenaline, nervousness, and excitement that I felt for about the first eight miles of the race. My first three miles were significantly impacted by the crowd's density as I plodded through 7:38, 7:51, and 7:25 splits. There were times that I actually had to stop and walk. At this point, I'm very thankful that I have the message "Passing you raises $$ for Arden's cancer" on my back to help these people who are running 11, 12, and 13 minutes miles why there is some jerk who, at times, is running sub-6's at the back of the pack.
By mile five, the crowd has thinned out enough that, though I'm still weaving constantly, I can keep my pace pretty constant. From mile 5 through 15, my splits on the eight 'flat' miles are all between 6:45 and 6:51. I'm thrilled with this and really feel good. Around mile 16, I actually get passed by someone for the first time in the race. I'm very surprised and worry that I'm slowing down now. My next split indicates that my pace has remained the same. I catch up to the guy who passed me and tell him that he should hold back a bit, that its too early for him to be speeding up and he'll pay for it later. He thanks me for the advice, but does not heed it. I make a mental image in my head of him as I know I'll be seeing him again, running much slower at some point later in the race.
Mile 20 marks the turnaround point in Manayunk and from there its a beautiful 6.2 mile stretch along Kelly Drive and boathouse row back to the finish at the Art Museum. But, at this point I've already started to feel fatigued. A little earlier than I had hoped. I know this is likely due to this being my 4th marathon in 5 weeks, but I'm still not looking forward to the impending discomfort that I'm going to feel. For the first time since the crowded start, I have a slower than 7:00 split (7:01) at mile 19. 7:09, 7:08, and 7:06 follow. My glutes are screaming. Though I've been thinking of Arden for almost the entire race (except for the moments when I was narrowly avoiding some major collisions), its not until now that I am relying on her for strength. I think about her and the long stays in the hospital, about all of the crappy chemicals that her body is subjected to, and about all of the 'ouchies' she has to withstand. No way am I going to slow down now. This discomfort is nothing compared to what Arden is facing. I am in control of this and I will not relent. My rate of passing runners has decreased as the crowd thins and I've approached runners with comparable abilities. But with about a mile and half to go, I am able to accelerate. During this time, I've sped up to about a 6:30 pace and the discomfort is barely perceptable. I cross the finish line and say yet another prayer for Arden. I'm overcome with emotional so much so that one of the finish line volunteers approaches to see if need medical attention. I smile and tell her that I'm fine, thanks, knowing deep within me that Arden is going to be fine, too. How can she not be with all of the wonderful people like all of you praying for her and doing everything you can to help?
Final race stats:
Clock time: 3:12:38
Clock ranking: 502nd of 6677 finishers
Chip time: 3:03:44 (7:00.45)
Chip ranking: 287th (top 4.3%)
From the race, I drive straight to the Buchers' house. After all, I promised Arden at the hospital on Friday night that she could have her t-shirt once I finished the race. Within moments of walking in the house, Arden was showing me all her toys and was very outgoing and happy. I probably spent the first 20 or 30 minutes playing with her. It was wonderful to see her so happy. Most of my visits to the hospital have been when she was feeling crappy and not in a very outgoing mood. Today was truly a delight to see her happy and playful. If I let my mind wander, I could even forget for a while the battle that she was facing. I spent the next couple hours with Rick, Amy, Kerry, and Carin. Every time I see them it amazes me to see how strong Rick and Amy have been. I don't know how they are doing it. I know that I got in the car, and just like when I leave the hospital, cried for the first few minutes of my ride home in disbelief that this is happening.
I spent the rest of my day relaxing at home. I actually allowed myself to pig out for the first time in a while and it felt goooood. Two big pieces of lasagna and three beers. As I (gingerly) climed into bed, my day ended just as it began...looking at Arden's picture and praying for her to get better.
Thank you all so much for the support you've given to the Buchers through your prayers, support, and generosity.
The t-shirt:
(yes, they did correct the spelling error before making the shirt)
And yes, I did end up passing the one runner who passed me. He was going slow around mile 24 and I flew by him.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
USMC marathon success
I enjoyed the marathon much more than the first time I ran it. It was much better organized this time and the people were nicer. Was aiming for 3:10 and ran 3:10:13. I'm definitely satisfied with that time as its just 2 weeks since my last two marathons. Plus, I started at near the back of the pack, about 20 minutes after the official race start. Lots of time spend trying to pass those people back there and lots of energy wasted in doing so. I probably wasn't able to run at a constant steady pace until around mile 12.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Well, it has been a while...
Ok, so I need to find something better to do with my time, right? Earlier this week, I realized that I didn't have a lot going on this weekend so I looked for a race to run. Perfect. The USMC marathon is this Sunday. Granted, the race long ago reached capacity and closed registration back around May. But, I went on an on-line bulletin board and found people looking to get rid of their entries because they have decided they won't be running this weekend. So, I get to pay somebody for their number and run as them. (However, I will not be running with their timing chip and therefore not effecting their personal history or the placings in the race. I just get my tshirt, medal, and the enjoyment of running another marathon.)
I ran USMC around 2001 and swore I'd never run it again. Too crowded and disorganized. I hope that I've grown more tolerant in my old age...
I ran USMC around 2001 and swore I'd never run it again. Too crowded and disorganized. I hope that I've grown more tolerant in my old age...
Friday, October 19, 2007
2 for 1
The Baltimore Marathon went well. I felt so comfortable, that within the first couple of miles, I decided to stray from my 3:20 plan and run a little faster. This plan changed again around mile 5. And again a couple miles later, and again. Eventually, I found myself wondering around the half way point if I could pull off a Boston qualifying time and still feel like I was running comfortably and not pushing myself. The weather was perfect, I was barely breathing heavy (heart rate in the low 130s up until that point), and I felt great. So, I ramped up my speed yet again. The 16 to 22 mile stretch is very similiar to Boston, which is to say, quite hilly for a road marathon with increasing inclines before a gradual decline near the end. I crossed the line in 3:08:10 with very little discomfort. I felt like I could have easily run another 8 to 10 miles. And, though I had run a BQ time back in May, it felt good to qualify with so little effort. (Only later did I realize that, now that I'm older, 3:15 is the BQ time!).
At that point, the idea I had in the back of my mind came to the front. Can I run the Atlantic City marathon tomorrow?! There was race day registration, so I could get up in the morning, see how my legs feel, and decide then.
The rest of my Saturday contained Costco, Acme, yardwork, a quick 20 minute run to loosen my legs, some drinking at Tony and Brad's, and retiring to bed around 11:00. I felt fantastic all day...more like I ran a 10 mile tempo run than a relatively quick marathon.
Sunday morning, I ran down the stairs and through my living room. Legs felt good. Off to AC!
Again, the weather was perfect, almost identical to yesterday, 50F at the start, sunny, and light winds. Unfortunately, I realized about 2 minutes into the race that my legs were not as fresh as I thought. They didn't really loosen up until around mile 18. It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable. I continued to get faster throughout the race, increasing my speed much less quickly than yesterday. I was in 51st place at the 1/2 way point, 33 place at ~20 miles, 24th place with 3 to go, and finished 16th in 3:25:03 (out of just 216 runners). My goal was a 3:29 (8min/mile) as I've never run a road marathon on my own at >=8/mile. Afterwards and for the rest of the day (and still today actually) I finally felt like I ran a marathon. Soreness, fatigue, really sore quads...it all felt like it normally does after 26.2. I feel great that I was able to do 2 in one weekend. Odds are, I'll never be in good enough shape to do this again and even if I am, having the races be located so close geographically and having the Sunday one have race day registration is unlikely. It feels great to have been able to do this, to feel great while doing so, and to not get hurt (which would have turned it into something stupid rather than something impressive and a moment to be proud of).
Hopefully another marathon or two before winter will be on my schedule...
PS...I don't recommend the AC marathon for anybody except for those looking for a fast time. Its extremely flat and straight. However, it can be boring. 2 out and backs. Half along the boardwalk, half along Atlantic Ave. Go back to the start. Repeat. Frequent, well stocked aid stations. You get a nice long sleeve cotton T and a medal. The big problem is the finish. The last several miles, you're zipping through boardwalk crowds, praying that a collision is not imminent. Crossing the finish line, you're handed a bag with your post-race food and beverages. A bottle of water, one banana, one bagel. That's it. No tables with more water or gatorade. No sugar/simple carbs besides from your bag contents. Asking for more water I was told to take another bag (and thus deprive one of the back of the packers what they would need). Yeah, sure. You'd think that $65 for such a small race would get you more than that.
At that point, the idea I had in the back of my mind came to the front. Can I run the Atlantic City marathon tomorrow?! There was race day registration, so I could get up in the morning, see how my legs feel, and decide then.
The rest of my Saturday contained Costco, Acme, yardwork, a quick 20 minute run to loosen my legs, some drinking at Tony and Brad's, and retiring to bed around 11:00. I felt fantastic all day...more like I ran a 10 mile tempo run than a relatively quick marathon.
Sunday morning, I ran down the stairs and through my living room. Legs felt good. Off to AC!
Again, the weather was perfect, almost identical to yesterday, 50F at the start, sunny, and light winds. Unfortunately, I realized about 2 minutes into the race that my legs were not as fresh as I thought. They didn't really loosen up until around mile 18. It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable. I continued to get faster throughout the race, increasing my speed much less quickly than yesterday. I was in 51st place at the 1/2 way point, 33 place at ~20 miles, 24th place with 3 to go, and finished 16th in 3:25:03 (out of just 216 runners). My goal was a 3:29 (8min/mile) as I've never run a road marathon on my own at >=8/mile. Afterwards and for the rest of the day (and still today actually) I finally felt like I ran a marathon. Soreness, fatigue, really sore quads...it all felt like it normally does after 26.2. I feel great that I was able to do 2 in one weekend. Odds are, I'll never be in good enough shape to do this again and even if I am, having the races be located so close geographically and having the Sunday one have race day registration is unlikely. It feels great to have been able to do this, to feel great while doing so, and to not get hurt (which would have turned it into something stupid rather than something impressive and a moment to be proud of).
Hopefully another marathon or two before winter will be on my schedule...
PS...I don't recommend the AC marathon for anybody except for those looking for a fast time. Its extremely flat and straight. However, it can be boring. 2 out and backs. Half along the boardwalk, half along Atlantic Ave. Go back to the start. Repeat. Frequent, well stocked aid stations. You get a nice long sleeve cotton T and a medal. The big problem is the finish. The last several miles, you're zipping through boardwalk crowds, praying that a collision is not imminent. Crossing the finish line, you're handed a bag with your post-race food and beverages. A bottle of water, one banana, one bagel. That's it. No tables with more water or gatorade. No sugar/simple carbs besides from your bag contents. Asking for more water I was told to take another bag (and thus deprive one of the back of the packers what they would need). Yeah, sure. You'd think that $65 for such a small race would get you more than that.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Rest? I don't need no stinkin' rest!
So...the race I've focused on for so long is over. Now its time for the usual funk and general malaise to set in. What to do with all this time? What do I focus on? What is my next goal? This is always a difficult time for me.
For the short term, I'm thinking that I'll try at least one marathon to see what running at sea level, without hills, for just 3:15 to 3:25 feels like. Last Friday, I signed up for the Baltimore Marathon. It's this Saturday. I'm guessing it won't be too challenging, so long as I stick to my plan of running it 'just for fun' and not pushing myself. That means a ~3:20 finish (+/- 3 minutes for a 7:30 to 7:45/mile range). I think that will feel pretty comfortable. The big question is regarding how I'll feel Sunday morning. With my legs having primarily run on nice and soft trails and treadmills all summer, the impact effect could be huge. We'll see...
For the short term, I'm thinking that I'll try at least one marathon to see what running at sea level, without hills, for just 3:15 to 3:25 feels like. Last Friday, I signed up for the Baltimore Marathon. It's this Saturday. I'm guessing it won't be too challenging, so long as I stick to my plan of running it 'just for fun' and not pushing myself. That means a ~3:20 finish (+/- 3 minutes for a 7:30 to 7:45/mile range). I think that will feel pretty comfortable. The big question is regarding how I'll feel Sunday morning. With my legs having primarily run on nice and soft trails and treadmills all summer, the impact effect could be huge. We'll see...
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
TransRockies Run
After the Imogene Pass Run, I spent the following week in Mueller State Park outside of Colorado Springs. The elevation was 9800 feet and I had a very secluded campsite with a stunning view of Pike’s Peak. I made it a point to either hike or run for at least an hour each day to get some activity at this elevation. I had zero problems with the altitude. A half day atop Pike’s Peak (14100’) and a 2:15 run from the summit, down ~4.5 miles, and back up was challenging, but very rewarding. My confidence and excitement for the TRR was growing each day.
Then came the curve ball. Some last minute discussions among all of the Gorons had the pairings in question. For the entire summer, the plan was for me to run with Erin. But, we had some late additions to the team and we decided as a team to put together an excellent ‘open’ men’s team and an excellent ‘over 80’ (combined age) team. I was on board with the decision we made, but devastated. I wasn’t even excited to run the race any more. Nothing against my new running partner, Bob, but I had planned and trained and pushed myself to be ready to run with Erin. Now, I would not be running as hard or pushing myself as much. I was on the ‘2nd best’ Gore team. It was definitely the right thing to do, but I was disappointed.
My mood improved and my excitement returned once we arrived in Beaver Creek, started going through registration, meeting all the runners and volunteers, attending the opening ceremonies, etc. By race morning, I was pumped. I knew it would be amazing.
The first day was Sunday. A 15 mile run with a decent climb over the first several miles, some flat running along I-70 for the middle of the race, and then a big 4 mile climb to the top of a ski mountain in Vail to conclude the day. Bob and I were 3rd for most of the race but slipped to 5th over the last 1-2 miles. 3 minutes behind the ‘Flying Monkeys’, the only 80+ team in front of us. Erin and Dustin finished comfortably in second with a huge gap in front of the 3rd place team and an equally large gap behind the first place Skaggs brothers. The finish atop the ski mountain was beautiful. Sunshine, great views, and excitement for the rest of the week were plentiful. But within an hour of finishing, the weather abruptly changed…hail, lightening, and thunder rolled in and it continued until about 90 minutes into day two’s run.
Sunday night’s sleep was horrible. I didn’t fall asleep until 4:40 am and was up by 5:15. The rain fell all night and was still coming down hard at the start of the race. Unfortunately, the start of the race was delayed. We needed to take a Gondola to the top of the mountain and they would not allow it to operate until the lightening ceased. Due to the later start and concerns regarding the slower runners being on the course after dark, the course had to be shortened. The organizers did a fantastic job adjusting and we were off after an hour. Day 2 was supposed to be the most difficult with some massive climbs and descents and a total of 26 miles. It was shortened to 19 and the most difficult part was eliminated. This was very disappointing at the start but by the end of the race, I was quite happy with ending earlier. We started in the rain and as we climbed the mountain it changed to sleet then snow. There was a good 2 to 3 inches of snow on the ground and we were running along the top of the mountain and through the back bowls of Vail. Spectacular views! Then the sloppy descent began. It was a nasty, muddy, wet mess. Bob and I were the 7th team to cross the finish line and dropped to 7th overall and lost another 4 minutes to the Monkeys.
Day 3’s course was very similar to day 2. 24+ miles and similar climbs. Like the first two days, I was getting ahead of Bob on the uphills and waiting for him at times. But, we were well matched on the flat and downhill sections. Unfortunately, we finished 7th again, were 7th overall, and lost another 6 minutes to the Monkeys. At this point, we were 12:58 behind them and I was not optimistic that we’d catch them. We were comfortably ahead of the 3rd place 80+ team (which was the other Gore team) but it looked like the Monkeys would win the category.
On Day 4, I was hoping that we’d be able to cut the Monkey’s lead in half and maybe have some hope of catching them on the final day. Speaking to Bob about our strategy for the day, I received the same response from him that I’d heard all week...”I’ll just run my race and we’ll see what happens.” Bob is totally laid back and much less competitive than me. Two different personalities you won’t find. So rather than convince Bob that we had to go hard and make up some time, I was resigned to having to just run what felt best for us and not worry about the Monkeys. Frustrating at times, but it was good for me to be patient and helped to calm me down. The course for Day 4 consisted of a somewhat steep climb over the first 10 miles up to 12000’ feet at Hagerman Pass and the Continental Divide. Then the descent would begin. 18 miles of gradual downhill. During the ascent, we stayed 1 to 2 minutes ahead of the Monkeys for the first 6 to 8 miles. But, I often found myself running too fast in relation to Bob. There were several times where I got ahead of him and had to wait. As the first aid station approached, I paused to wait and the Monkeys passed me. At that point, I pretty much wrote off any hope I had of catching them for first place. Bob and I approached the first aid station and were joined at the hip for pretty much the final 20 miles. I decided to forget about the competition and just enjoy the run. About an hour later, a funny thing happened. Bob and I passed the first place co-ed team. Then we passed another team. And then we passed the Monkeys about 18 miles into the race. Hmmm. That was good news, but at that point, I assumed that they had just decided to take it easy, keep us in sight, and preserve the huge cushion that they had on us. Bob and I ran hard during the entire downhill and were well matched. At no point was I tempted to run ahead of him, nor could I have done so even if I wanted to. At the end of the day, we trimmed 4 minutes off the Monkey’s lead and had it down to 8:58 going into day 5. We were back in 6th place overall after finishing Day 4 in 4th place.
During the ceremonies on Day 4, one of the Monkeys was highlighted during the day’s video clips saying that they ran their asses off and still got beat. That got me thinking that maybe they weren’t taking it easy and sitting on their lead and might actually be in trouble. After hearing this, along with whispers about the Monkeys being tired and not in great shape, my hope for finishing first returned. Bob still felt good. He was popping the Advils, but wasn’t in bad shape and I felt like I could run another 3 or 4 days if necessary. It was truly amazing how great I still felt.
Another reason for optimism…Day 5’s course. It was a sprint. Just 18 miles of gradual ascent (less than 2000 feet). All on a paved bike trail going into Aspen. This definitely favored Bob and I as we were among just a handful of people who spend any time running roads. Conversely, the Monkeys had let their displeasure with the significant amount of ‘non-technical’ terrain be known throughout the week. And it was hot. Having trained in Philly heat and humidity all summer, I was confident I was going to be able to handle the heat better than them. Hopefully Bob would fare as well.
As the run began, Bob and I went out fast. Within 5 miles, we were in third place overall. We ran hard the entire time. Bob and I were well matched on this relatively flat terrain and though I could have maybe gone 5 to 10 seconds per mile faster, I was quite happy with our pace. When we passed the second aid station around mile 10, we were told that we were in third place and just 4 minutes behind the Skaggs brothers (who had been demolishing the field all week). I was excited because that told me we were doing really well, but also scared because I thought we might be pushing it too hard, especially with the way the weather was heating up. It was in the low 80s at this time (my guess) and the high for the day was 90F. Bob and I went hard the entire time. Towards the end, he started to tire and I was constantly looking ~50 yards behind me to yell encouragement to Bob. He did a tremendous job that day and I’m convinced he gave it everything he had. We crossed the finish line in 3rd place, just 10 minutes behind the stage winners. At that point, we just had to wait and hope that the Monkeys came in 8:58 after we did. It was definitely the longest 9 minutes of my life. Just a couple minutes after we finished, the emcee announced that another group was approaching the finish line (there was a spotted about a ½ mile back). My heart sank, but it was a different team. A minute later, another group. Still not the Monkeys. This scene repeated itself several more times and all the while the emcee was describing to the crowd the situation we were in with the Monkeys. And the crowd was into it. Soon, 8:58 came and went and Bob and I won! What an awesome feeling. The crowd cheered and I was euphoric. I was convinced that the placing was going to be decided by 10 or 20 seconds. It turns out that we beat the Monkeys that day by 25:36!
The rest of the day was a huge celebration. Not just because we won 1st and not just for us. For everybody. It was such a huge, satisfying, wonderful accomplishment. Every time a team crossed the line, the crowd went crazy. It was a celebration for everybody. The festivities continued that night with a huge banquet, drinking, awards, and picture and video highlights. This was a first class event and was executed with such expertise that you would have never guessed that this was an inaugural event. I can’t say enough about the people that pulled this off. Huge thanks to the organizers, sponsors, volunteers, and Bob! Though I actually found the race much easier than I thought it would be, the training was brutal. I’d love to say that I’ll be back next year, but the thought of training that hard again just scares the hell out of me. I can’t imagine doing that again. But as hard as it was…it was all so worth it!
Then came the curve ball. Some last minute discussions among all of the Gorons had the pairings in question. For the entire summer, the plan was for me to run with Erin. But, we had some late additions to the team and we decided as a team to put together an excellent ‘open’ men’s team and an excellent ‘over 80’ (combined age) team. I was on board with the decision we made, but devastated. I wasn’t even excited to run the race any more. Nothing against my new running partner, Bob, but I had planned and trained and pushed myself to be ready to run with Erin. Now, I would not be running as hard or pushing myself as much. I was on the ‘2nd best’ Gore team. It was definitely the right thing to do, but I was disappointed.
My mood improved and my excitement returned once we arrived in Beaver Creek, started going through registration, meeting all the runners and volunteers, attending the opening ceremonies, etc. By race morning, I was pumped. I knew it would be amazing.
The first day was Sunday. A 15 mile run with a decent climb over the first several miles, some flat running along I-70 for the middle of the race, and then a big 4 mile climb to the top of a ski mountain in Vail to conclude the day. Bob and I were 3rd for most of the race but slipped to 5th over the last 1-2 miles. 3 minutes behind the ‘Flying Monkeys’, the only 80+ team in front of us. Erin and Dustin finished comfortably in second with a huge gap in front of the 3rd place team and an equally large gap behind the first place Skaggs brothers. The finish atop the ski mountain was beautiful. Sunshine, great views, and excitement for the rest of the week were plentiful. But within an hour of finishing, the weather abruptly changed…hail, lightening, and thunder rolled in and it continued until about 90 minutes into day two’s run.
Sunday night’s sleep was horrible. I didn’t fall asleep until 4:40 am and was up by 5:15. The rain fell all night and was still coming down hard at the start of the race. Unfortunately, the start of the race was delayed. We needed to take a Gondola to the top of the mountain and they would not allow it to operate until the lightening ceased. Due to the later start and concerns regarding the slower runners being on the course after dark, the course had to be shortened. The organizers did a fantastic job adjusting and we were off after an hour. Day 2 was supposed to be the most difficult with some massive climbs and descents and a total of 26 miles. It was shortened to 19 and the most difficult part was eliminated. This was very disappointing at the start but by the end of the race, I was quite happy with ending earlier. We started in the rain and as we climbed the mountain it changed to sleet then snow. There was a good 2 to 3 inches of snow on the ground and we were running along the top of the mountain and through the back bowls of Vail. Spectacular views! Then the sloppy descent began. It was a nasty, muddy, wet mess. Bob and I were the 7th team to cross the finish line and dropped to 7th overall and lost another 4 minutes to the Monkeys.
Day 3’s course was very similar to day 2. 24+ miles and similar climbs. Like the first two days, I was getting ahead of Bob on the uphills and waiting for him at times. But, we were well matched on the flat and downhill sections. Unfortunately, we finished 7th again, were 7th overall, and lost another 6 minutes to the Monkeys. At this point, we were 12:58 behind them and I was not optimistic that we’d catch them. We were comfortably ahead of the 3rd place 80+ team (which was the other Gore team) but it looked like the Monkeys would win the category.
On Day 4, I was hoping that we’d be able to cut the Monkey’s lead in half and maybe have some hope of catching them on the final day. Speaking to Bob about our strategy for the day, I received the same response from him that I’d heard all week...”I’ll just run my race and we’ll see what happens.” Bob is totally laid back and much less competitive than me. Two different personalities you won’t find. So rather than convince Bob that we had to go hard and make up some time, I was resigned to having to just run what felt best for us and not worry about the Monkeys. Frustrating at times, but it was good for me to be patient and helped to calm me down. The course for Day 4 consisted of a somewhat steep climb over the first 10 miles up to 12000’ feet at Hagerman Pass and the Continental Divide. Then the descent would begin. 18 miles of gradual downhill. During the ascent, we stayed 1 to 2 minutes ahead of the Monkeys for the first 6 to 8 miles. But, I often found myself running too fast in relation to Bob. There were several times where I got ahead of him and had to wait. As the first aid station approached, I paused to wait and the Monkeys passed me. At that point, I pretty much wrote off any hope I had of catching them for first place. Bob and I approached the first aid station and were joined at the hip for pretty much the final 20 miles. I decided to forget about the competition and just enjoy the run. About an hour later, a funny thing happened. Bob and I passed the first place co-ed team. Then we passed another team. And then we passed the Monkeys about 18 miles into the race. Hmmm. That was good news, but at that point, I assumed that they had just decided to take it easy, keep us in sight, and preserve the huge cushion that they had on us. Bob and I ran hard during the entire downhill and were well matched. At no point was I tempted to run ahead of him, nor could I have done so even if I wanted to. At the end of the day, we trimmed 4 minutes off the Monkey’s lead and had it down to 8:58 going into day 5. We were back in 6th place overall after finishing Day 4 in 4th place.
During the ceremonies on Day 4, one of the Monkeys was highlighted during the day’s video clips saying that they ran their asses off and still got beat. That got me thinking that maybe they weren’t taking it easy and sitting on their lead and might actually be in trouble. After hearing this, along with whispers about the Monkeys being tired and not in great shape, my hope for finishing first returned. Bob still felt good. He was popping the Advils, but wasn’t in bad shape and I felt like I could run another 3 or 4 days if necessary. It was truly amazing how great I still felt.
Another reason for optimism…Day 5’s course. It was a sprint. Just 18 miles of gradual ascent (less than 2000 feet). All on a paved bike trail going into Aspen. This definitely favored Bob and I as we were among just a handful of people who spend any time running roads. Conversely, the Monkeys had let their displeasure with the significant amount of ‘non-technical’ terrain be known throughout the week. And it was hot. Having trained in Philly heat and humidity all summer, I was confident I was going to be able to handle the heat better than them. Hopefully Bob would fare as well.
As the run began, Bob and I went out fast. Within 5 miles, we were in third place overall. We ran hard the entire time. Bob and I were well matched on this relatively flat terrain and though I could have maybe gone 5 to 10 seconds per mile faster, I was quite happy with our pace. When we passed the second aid station around mile 10, we were told that we were in third place and just 4 minutes behind the Skaggs brothers (who had been demolishing the field all week). I was excited because that told me we were doing really well, but also scared because I thought we might be pushing it too hard, especially with the way the weather was heating up. It was in the low 80s at this time (my guess) and the high for the day was 90F. Bob and I went hard the entire time. Towards the end, he started to tire and I was constantly looking ~50 yards behind me to yell encouragement to Bob. He did a tremendous job that day and I’m convinced he gave it everything he had. We crossed the finish line in 3rd place, just 10 minutes behind the stage winners. At that point, we just had to wait and hope that the Monkeys came in 8:58 after we did. It was definitely the longest 9 minutes of my life. Just a couple minutes after we finished, the emcee announced that another group was approaching the finish line (there was a spotted about a ½ mile back). My heart sank, but it was a different team. A minute later, another group. Still not the Monkeys. This scene repeated itself several more times and all the while the emcee was describing to the crowd the situation we were in with the Monkeys. And the crowd was into it. Soon, 8:58 came and went and Bob and I won! What an awesome feeling. The crowd cheered and I was euphoric. I was convinced that the placing was going to be decided by 10 or 20 seconds. It turns out that we beat the Monkeys that day by 25:36!
The rest of the day was a huge celebration. Not just because we won 1st and not just for us. For everybody. It was such a huge, satisfying, wonderful accomplishment. Every time a team crossed the line, the crowd went crazy. It was a celebration for everybody. The festivities continued that night with a huge banquet, drinking, awards, and picture and video highlights. This was a first class event and was executed with such expertise that you would have never guessed that this was an inaugural event. I can’t say enough about the people that pulled this off. Huge thanks to the organizers, sponsors, volunteers, and Bob! Though I actually found the race much easier than I thought it would be, the training was brutal. I’d love to say that I’ll be back next year, but the thought of training that hard again just scares the hell out of me. I can’t imagine doing that again. But as hard as it was…it was all so worth it!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Imogene Pass Run
Time will tell, but the Imogene Pass Run might just be one of my favorite runs ever. I was a last minute entrant. My running mate for the TransRockies Run, Erin, has done this race 9 of the last 10 years and turned me on to it. The Imogene Pass Run (IPR) is a 17.1 mile point-to-point mountain race within the western San Juan mountains of Colorado, run along a route which connects the towns of Ouray (7810 ft.) and Telluride (8820 ft.) by way of 13,120 foot Imogene Pass. Its pretty much straight up, then straight down. The ‘up’ part has an average grade of over 10%, about 8% for the first 7.6 miles and then it increases from there.
The weather was great. About 45 at the start and sunny. Somewhat chilly at the top and windy. On the descent, it actually warmed up enough, due to rising temps and decreasing altitude, that for most of it I was shirtless.
With Erin as my running partner for TR, I was very anxious about my performance in this race. My initial goal was to finish within 5 minutes of Erin if I had any hope of being a good match for him for TR. However, he talked me out of that. He thought that the best barometer would be my ascent for the first 7.6 miles (to Upper Camp Bird). After that, the grade increases significantly and the altitude becomes a huge factor, too. Even the winners of the race walk much of this section and should I struggle there, its not a big deal. Especially since those conditions are worse than anything we’ll encounter at TR. Then, on the downhill, he didn’t think there’d be much point in worrying about my performance there.
I met my goal. Erin’s time to Upper Camp was 78 minutes and mine was 80. Perfect. He kicked my butt over the final ascent by 10 minutes and another 10 minutes on the downhill, but we weren’t concerned about that. I was pretty disappointed when I first finished, but the crowd we were hanging out with quickly changed my attitude. Erin finished 10th overall and 1st in his age group. I was 56th overall and 10th. 1200 total runners, so top 5%. A little lower than I’m used to, but I’ll take it. It was just 6 days after the Monster Marathon, 36 hrs after driving across the country and arriving at altitude, and my first run of its kind. I just missed breaking 3 hrs (apparently a huge deal, just like the 3hr mark in a marathon) by a little under 3 minutes.
The views were spectacular. Actually, I should say ‘breathtaking’. With the scenery and altitude, it was definitely breathtaking. For the first time in my running career, I actually had to walk during a race. A HUGE blow to my ego at first, but then I looked around, saw EVERYBODY walking, and also remembered Erin’s advice. So, I walked, took in the magnificent views, and wondered what the hell I am doing up here?
I’d love to do the race again. What a challenge. Plus, I feel like I got off a bit easy with the beautiful weather…very uncharacteristic compared to previous years.
The weather was great. About 45 at the start and sunny. Somewhat chilly at the top and windy. On the descent, it actually warmed up enough, due to rising temps and decreasing altitude, that for most of it I was shirtless.
With Erin as my running partner for TR, I was very anxious about my performance in this race. My initial goal was to finish within 5 minutes of Erin if I had any hope of being a good match for him for TR. However, he talked me out of that. He thought that the best barometer would be my ascent for the first 7.6 miles (to Upper Camp Bird). After that, the grade increases significantly and the altitude becomes a huge factor, too. Even the winners of the race walk much of this section and should I struggle there, its not a big deal. Especially since those conditions are worse than anything we’ll encounter at TR. Then, on the downhill, he didn’t think there’d be much point in worrying about my performance there.
I met my goal. Erin’s time to Upper Camp was 78 minutes and mine was 80. Perfect. He kicked my butt over the final ascent by 10 minutes and another 10 minutes on the downhill, but we weren’t concerned about that. I was pretty disappointed when I first finished, but the crowd we were hanging out with quickly changed my attitude. Erin finished 10th overall and 1st in his age group. I was 56th overall and 10th. 1200 total runners, so top 5%. A little lower than I’m used to, but I’ll take it. It was just 6 days after the Monster Marathon, 36 hrs after driving across the country and arriving at altitude, and my first run of its kind. I just missed breaking 3 hrs (apparently a huge deal, just like the 3hr mark in a marathon) by a little under 3 minutes.
The views were spectacular. Actually, I should say ‘breathtaking’. With the scenery and altitude, it was definitely breathtaking. For the first time in my running career, I actually had to walk during a race. A HUGE blow to my ego at first, but then I looked around, saw EVERYBODY walking, and also remembered Erin’s advice. So, I walked, took in the magnificent views, and wondered what the hell I am doing up here?
I’d love to do the race again. What a challenge. Plus, I feel like I got off a bit easy with the beautiful weather…very uncharacteristic compared to previous years.
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