Short Stack 5K. Sounds like a $2.99 breakfast special at IHOP. It's not. Though it sounds good as long as it comes with a side of bacon so crispy the 'fat' looks like meat. That's my secret for eating bacon - also the beauty of it. Cook it long enough and the fat chars to the point it actually looks like meat. Mentally it's now good for me - fat free bacon. If I think about it long enough maybe I can find the same happy place with Double Stuff Oreos.
The 5K wasn't really called the short stack. I could use diminutive. Maybe even petite. Yes, the Petite 5K. No...it wasn't a race for er, how do we phrase it today....little people. It was a 5K that was more like a 4K. 5K = 3.1 miles. This one was 2.72. Really? Yup. Runners are ready for that time when you know you have about a quarter mile left to go and you get ready to push every fiber in your body for a strong finish. But in this case, I round a corner and there was the finish line. Right there. The clock read 19:50:17. For a brief moment I didn't care that it was short. A sub 20 5K would be worth blogging about. Maybe even a tattoo. Then I check my trusty Garmin and what I already know is proven beyond a doubt. It read 2.72....
It also gave up another number. A beautiful number. 7:24. My pace. I could celebrate after all. Third fastest pace ever. It felt great - here I was 51 years old and still running hard. In many ways, better than ever. *Time to thank some people. Albert - running form. I was leaning! Not perfect but it made a difference - and I don't think I heal struck even one time! Sharon - well, you know. Tri-team - you have me swimming and biking which has improved my overall fitness. It's amazing how much cardio a guy can get gasping for breath in the pool.
I had a great 7:01 first mile. At the end of it my right shoelace came undone. Crap. One lace was hitting my opposite leg but I didn't want to stop. I was thinking about the shoelaces that won't come undone that Jerry talked about during his clinic. I should have bought them I thought. Then the other lace started hitting me too. Pisser. Now I know I have to stop and tie them before I trip over myself. I pull over, bend down and start the process. You know those movies where the person is being chased and they jump in the car and it takes them forever to get the key in the ignition? That was me. Ten thumbs. As runners flew by I got more and more frustrated. Finally got it down and I'm sure it didn't take as much time as it seemed to me - though I started the race with stubble and now had a full beard.
I managed to catch one of the three that passed me (yes, I counted them). The other two probably would have passed me anyway since they continued to pull away. For the rest of the race I was in a pocket. Couldn't pass anyone and no one passed me. I knew I was moving fast because this was an out and back course and I was well on my way back and runners were still not at the half way point.
After finishing the race I stuck around for the results - I'm always curious to how I place in my age division. Today was a good day. I won my age division. Beat a bunch of 40, 30, and 20 somethings in the process. Truth be told, a 14 year old girl beat me so I best not get all cocky. Teenagers amaze me. After the race they look like they could run another one. Me, it's all I can do to find half a banana and a water.
It was time to go. Albert and Sharon weren't able to join me since they were running with the tri team and the race experience isn't the same when you can't share it. I know, poor Michael. No sooner did I get in the car (and with ease slid my key into the ignition on the first try) that I had a message about a trip to Speedy Reedy. I'm all in. Turns out it was in Fremont and in Fremont was the solstice parade. We didn't know that until we rounded the corner and came face to face with naked people riding bikes. Naked. I mean I saw...well, that's another story...until then give it all you got, leave nothing for tomorrow, and Run...don't jog.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Just "Tri" it!
This is a bit of a rare blog for me. Normally I write about a recent race to share my thoughts and experiences - you may find sprinkles of humor, my often odd perspectives, and if you read along long enough, truths that provide some insight to who I am. That may or may not be the person you see everyday.
You don't have to read many blogs to know that my ace in the hole, my rabbits foot, the light that has guided my running journey is Sharon. It goes well beyond running. I eat better, my overall physical health is better, and on a good day in the right light and being careful to not look directly at them, I have abs. Whenever I have followed her training plan I have been successful. I love her at the finish line though admit to cursing her name more than once during a training session. You can't go any further or harder but somehow you do. You think you will puke but don't (that warm gurgle in your throat does not count). I find it difficult to express my level of appreciation - "Thank you Sharon" seems inadequate. In March Sharon began work on a triathlon program for the YMCA and asked if I would help with the running. Without hesitation I was all in. All in - don't doubt it, count on it, that's me. Soon I became involved as a participant in the swimming and biking.
Running. That's my deal. I am not the best but find that I can hold my own against my age division. Some days I can even kick some butt. Note that as you get older the "age division" becomes your best friend. Screw the 20 year old who finishes the race, grabs a bite, takes a nap, and comes back to the finish line to see you come across. Oh you beautiful age divisions - let's continue to grow that relationship, I think I'm in love. Running with the team has been very rewarding. Partly because I am now spewing wisdom taught to me not long ago - teaching is fun and it serves as a great reminder that we are all so very different. Also because I enjoy running - there is a freedom to it. Mostly however because of the great people I am running with. They are amazing and inspiring. Some are fast, others are getting there. Every week yields another personal success and victories are everywhere. They are fighters and I am lucky to know them.
Biking. I thought this would be easy. Wrong. My bike apparently is too big for me (maybe I need one of those little circus bikes the clowns ride), the chain falls off at least once a ride, and the gears often decide to change on their own. Then there is the fact that while it seems easy, I ride like crap. I'm a middle of the pack, quad burning, gear grinding, never wears the proper clothing to be warm, why does my ass hurt so much, want to be biker. My bike seat. I don't even know what to say. Let's just say that by the end of the ride my ass and the bike seat have become so intimate that one of them should have a cigarette.
Swimming. Where do I start? I don't like water and water does not like me. My struggle is really deeper than that. The moment I walk into the pool my world changes. I would rather be anywhere than in the pool at that moment. I suck - both mentality and physically. I am trying and today marked my 5th attempt (is it sad that I count them?). It's clear that I am the worse one in the pool - which by the way is rough. It's important to say that while I struggle, the team is nothing but great. They support me and never make me feel like I live in Loserville USA, Population 1 sinker. Thank you guys for that - it helps more than you know. I have received one on one coaching the past two weeks and today I felt like I took a step forward. Though I was on the "kiddie" side, I made it end to end without stopping to choke. A first for me. Go Michael go Michael. Maybe I am getting ahead of myself - it was only one day. But soon I may be putting together the coaching from Brook and Lisa and sliding across the pool instead of looking like I fell in quicksand. Time will tell. At the very least, our lifeguard Josh won't have to keep his eyes on me all the time.
While I may never do a triathlon the journey I am on today is more rewarding everyday. I am getting to know the team better and with each interaction I find myself being drawn in to each of them more and more. They are fantastic people - I am honored to know them. Sharon has done an incredible job organizing, directing, and teaching. She is the heart of the program and puts more into it than we'll probably ever know. Thank you Sharon - again, seems inadequate. Maybe the best way to say it is to simply say that whatever you need, I'm all in. Swimming excluded of course....
You don't have to read many blogs to know that my ace in the hole, my rabbits foot, the light that has guided my running journey is Sharon. It goes well beyond running. I eat better, my overall physical health is better, and on a good day in the right light and being careful to not look directly at them, I have abs. Whenever I have followed her training plan I have been successful. I love her at the finish line though admit to cursing her name more than once during a training session. You can't go any further or harder but somehow you do. You think you will puke but don't (that warm gurgle in your throat does not count). I find it difficult to express my level of appreciation - "Thank you Sharon" seems inadequate. In March Sharon began work on a triathlon program for the YMCA and asked if I would help with the running. Without hesitation I was all in. All in - don't doubt it, count on it, that's me. Soon I became involved as a participant in the swimming and biking.
Running. That's my deal. I am not the best but find that I can hold my own against my age division. Some days I can even kick some butt. Note that as you get older the "age division" becomes your best friend. Screw the 20 year old who finishes the race, grabs a bite, takes a nap, and comes back to the finish line to see you come across. Oh you beautiful age divisions - let's continue to grow that relationship, I think I'm in love. Running with the team has been very rewarding. Partly because I am now spewing wisdom taught to me not long ago - teaching is fun and it serves as a great reminder that we are all so very different. Also because I enjoy running - there is a freedom to it. Mostly however because of the great people I am running with. They are amazing and inspiring. Some are fast, others are getting there. Every week yields another personal success and victories are everywhere. They are fighters and I am lucky to know them.
Biking. I thought this would be easy. Wrong. My bike apparently is too big for me (maybe I need one of those little circus bikes the clowns ride), the chain falls off at least once a ride, and the gears often decide to change on their own. Then there is the fact that while it seems easy, I ride like crap. I'm a middle of the pack, quad burning, gear grinding, never wears the proper clothing to be warm, why does my ass hurt so much, want to be biker. My bike seat. I don't even know what to say. Let's just say that by the end of the ride my ass and the bike seat have become so intimate that one of them should have a cigarette.
Swimming. Where do I start? I don't like water and water does not like me. My struggle is really deeper than that. The moment I walk into the pool my world changes. I would rather be anywhere than in the pool at that moment. I suck - both mentality and physically. I am trying and today marked my 5th attempt (is it sad that I count them?). It's clear that I am the worse one in the pool - which by the way is rough. It's important to say that while I struggle, the team is nothing but great. They support me and never make me feel like I live in Loserville USA, Population 1 sinker. Thank you guys for that - it helps more than you know. I have received one on one coaching the past two weeks and today I felt like I took a step forward. Though I was on the "kiddie" side, I made it end to end without stopping to choke. A first for me. Go Michael go Michael. Maybe I am getting ahead of myself - it was only one day. But soon I may be putting together the coaching from Brook and Lisa and sliding across the pool instead of looking like I fell in quicksand. Time will tell. At the very least, our lifeguard Josh won't have to keep his eyes on me all the time.
While I may never do a triathlon the journey I am on today is more rewarding everyday. I am getting to know the team better and with each interaction I find myself being drawn in to each of them more and more. They are fantastic people - I am honored to know them. Sharon has done an incredible job organizing, directing, and teaching. She is the heart of the program and puts more into it than we'll probably ever know. Thank you Sharon - again, seems inadequate. Maybe the best way to say it is to simply say that whatever you need, I'm all in. Swimming excluded of course....
Sunday, May 2, 2010
The Return
It's not really all that dramatic but to me it was a BAFCWT - using code here because mom reads my blog and I'd like to keep the halo above the head.... BAFCWT. Figuring it out can be like staring those specialty license plates. No matter how hard you try, zippo, nothing....you have no idea what it says. The driver does and I'm sure it was worth the $100 extra he paid to be "cute".
It was a big day for me because I hadn't raced since January 1st (recall the dip into Lake Washington). Four months is a long time to be away. My holiday was courtesy of pneumonia and back issues. It is now the dawning of a new day and I was returning to racing. I was a bit nervous even though it was only a 5 mile race. I ran that mileage the past two Sundays but the speed wasn't there. Hitting the distance was a mental victory though. Distance first, speed comes later. That's what I'm told. Right Sharon? Albert?
Regardless of your personal expectations, nerves always creep in. I told myself it'd be just another Sunday run and shave the pace down close to 9:00. Relax. That's what you say out loud. Inside there is a voice that speaks evil. "You know you can really run faster if you try"...."You've done it before"...."It'll be fine". As soon as that crazy talk crosses your mind you begin to calculate what your finish time would be and your race plan begins to shift. You begin to convince yourself very quickly that maybe you are fitter than you really are. I've done it before and believe me, your body will deliver some nasty payback the next day.
I saw a lot of friends at the race - I love that. It adds to the fun. Albert was there for the half marathon - talk about a challenge. One cannot just wake up and decide to knock out 13.1 miles. You plan, train, plan, train, it never stops. He was ready but like me, a little nervous. Between the two of us it was difficult to know how many trips to the john we made....darn nerves....He worked his way into the crowd of runners and was off and running. Quickly around the corner and whoosh...gone.
My start time was getting close so I left the warm gym and walked out to shiver at the start line. I lined up right in front and was ready to roll. Nerves gone. Garmin ready. iPod set to start me off with Taylor Swift - You belong with me. It's a manly song so shut up. The horn sounds and I'm off. Too fast. I slow down and runners pass me like I'm not even moving. I speed up. Too fast. I slow down. I dropped into somewhat of a rhythm and mile one is history. 7:57. I slow. The miles come and go and I sway between feeling good and struggling. I know I'm pushing myself beyond my plan. So I slow a bit. I'm passed. She is wearing a pink tutu. What the H? Do you know what it feels like to be passed by a tutu? The evil voice comes back. "You're not really going to let the girl in the tutu beat you?". I speed up. Mile marker 4 and the race is now me and the tutu. Everything else is invisible to me. Nothing else matters. Trouble is the tutu seems to be pulling away. I speed up. The tutu speeds up. We hit the track which means a quarter mile left. I'm tapped. The tutu has fuel in her tank. She pulls away and wins our little challenge. I'd tell her nice race but the pace of my breathing wouldn't allow for anything. I grab a water and go inside to wait for Albert.
Turns out my pace (8:12) was good enough for a 3rd place finish in my division - a good day but I already feel the rebellion my body would soon bring on. Until then I'll enjoy my personal victory. I was 64 of 404 but my heart rate average was 182. 192 during the tutu battle in mile 5. I have some work to do there.
Albert kicked butt with a 1:39:10 half marathon (7:31 pace). 51 of 474 - nice!!! His second best ever. What was more incredible was that the next day he was at the Y at 7:00 for swimming and cycle - and looking fresh. He's training for a sprint triathlon. Oh, and the Portland marathon. And let's not forget the Ragnar Relay (24 hour, 6 person, 189 mile race). I know, wow!
I'm glad to be running again and I look forward to the nasty training plan Sharon will put together for me. As I've stated many a time, I don't like much of the training, sometimes curse her, but each and every time I have followed her training plan I have turned in a great race as a result of it. So bring it on. Speed will reign once again and my friends I will once again live to my motto. Run...Don't jog.
It was a big day for me because I hadn't raced since January 1st (recall the dip into Lake Washington). Four months is a long time to be away. My holiday was courtesy of pneumonia and back issues. It is now the dawning of a new day and I was returning to racing. I was a bit nervous even though it was only a 5 mile race. I ran that mileage the past two Sundays but the speed wasn't there. Hitting the distance was a mental victory though. Distance first, speed comes later. That's what I'm told. Right Sharon? Albert?
Regardless of your personal expectations, nerves always creep in. I told myself it'd be just another Sunday run and shave the pace down close to 9:00. Relax. That's what you say out loud. Inside there is a voice that speaks evil. "You know you can really run faster if you try"...."You've done it before"...."It'll be fine". As soon as that crazy talk crosses your mind you begin to calculate what your finish time would be and your race plan begins to shift. You begin to convince yourself very quickly that maybe you are fitter than you really are. I've done it before and believe me, your body will deliver some nasty payback the next day.
I saw a lot of friends at the race - I love that. It adds to the fun. Albert was there for the half marathon - talk about a challenge. One cannot just wake up and decide to knock out 13.1 miles. You plan, train, plan, train, it never stops. He was ready but like me, a little nervous. Between the two of us it was difficult to know how many trips to the john we made....darn nerves....He worked his way into the crowd of runners and was off and running. Quickly around the corner and whoosh...gone.
My start time was getting close so I left the warm gym and walked out to shiver at the start line. I lined up right in front and was ready to roll. Nerves gone. Garmin ready. iPod set to start me off with Taylor Swift - You belong with me. It's a manly song so shut up. The horn sounds and I'm off. Too fast. I slow down and runners pass me like I'm not even moving. I speed up. Too fast. I slow down. I dropped into somewhat of a rhythm and mile one is history. 7:57. I slow. The miles come and go and I sway between feeling good and struggling. I know I'm pushing myself beyond my plan. So I slow a bit. I'm passed. She is wearing a pink tutu. What the H? Do you know what it feels like to be passed by a tutu? The evil voice comes back. "You're not really going to let the girl in the tutu beat you?". I speed up. Mile marker 4 and the race is now me and the tutu. Everything else is invisible to me. Nothing else matters. Trouble is the tutu seems to be pulling away. I speed up. The tutu speeds up. We hit the track which means a quarter mile left. I'm tapped. The tutu has fuel in her tank. She pulls away and wins our little challenge. I'd tell her nice race but the pace of my breathing wouldn't allow for anything. I grab a water and go inside to wait for Albert.
Turns out my pace (8:12) was good enough for a 3rd place finish in my division - a good day but I already feel the rebellion my body would soon bring on. Until then I'll enjoy my personal victory. I was 64 of 404 but my heart rate average was 182. 192 during the tutu battle in mile 5. I have some work to do there.
Albert kicked butt with a 1:39:10 half marathon (7:31 pace). 51 of 474 - nice!!! His second best ever. What was more incredible was that the next day he was at the Y at 7:00 for swimming and cycle - and looking fresh. He's training for a sprint triathlon. Oh, and the Portland marathon. And let's not forget the Ragnar Relay (24 hour, 6 person, 189 mile race). I know, wow!
I'm glad to be running again and I look forward to the nasty training plan Sharon will put together for me. As I've stated many a time, I don't like much of the training, sometimes curse her, but each and every time I have followed her training plan I have turned in a great race as a result of it. So bring it on. Speed will reign once again and my friends I will once again live to my motto. Run...Don't jog.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Perspective
Today was one of those days. You know the kind. The run of the mill - I've done this before - no surprises - it's going to be a good day - kind of day. Today I was going to Albert's 10K as a support buddy. No running for me. After coming back from pneumonia I was lucky enough to throw my back out. Maybe I should buy some lottery tickets.... If you thought I complained during the pneumonia bout, well that paled when my back decided to plan a revolt of it's own (likely just to get some attention). So support buddy/spectator was my role and I was good with that. Why? Well first off Albert has been there for me and it's never as fun to go to a race alone. Then there's the role of a spectator - no pre-race nerves, pace pressure, or concern that the Honey Bucket line is too long.
The race had three sub races weaved in. There was a 10K, 5K, and 1 mile walk. After the 10K started I began to feel a bit sorry for myself. "Wish I could run" pumped in and out of my brain. Then the 5K runners took off. As I watched them burn through the start line and slip around the corner and out of sight, I could feel the frustration build inside. It's not fair I thought, I train hard and I deserve to be out there. I know I can beat a lot of them. Stupid back. Why does it have to be so freakin sore? So I walk over and pour a free cup of coffee from one of the vendor booths and continue to tell myself how unfair the world can be....unfair to me.
I hear the race director announce that the 1 mile walk is about to begin. One mile walk. I nearly laughed out loud. Gee, that's some test of endurance, walking a whole mile. The horn goes off and walkers glide past me. It was almost silly. Some of them in matching hats, others in matching shirts, and still others fiddling with their iPODs. My eyes are on the pack as they slowly round the corner - seeee ya! I say to myself. I turn back towards the start line and at that moment my day started to change. I saw a young boy maybe 8 years old using a walker with his mom by his side. He had maybe traveled 20 feet in the time everyone else had covered a couple blocks. His short shuffle steps barely moved him forward and mom was right behind him, her hands close to the walker but not quite touching it. He was proudly wearing his race number on the front of his shirt and the smile and pride on his face as he inched forward melted your heart. I cut across the grass to watch his progress. Every step deliberate, every moment special.
I walked back to the start/finish line no longer feeling that life was being unfair to me. Actually the little guy had choked me up a little. Life has tossed him a crappy card and there he was, giving that one mile everything he had. His picture is off to the left. At the finish line I began to see many special needs kids coming down the home stretch. Each one in their own way pushing hard at the finish. There were only a few spectators but the cheering was infectious. I was right there with them clapping and yelling as one after another they came across the finish line. I had tears on my cheeks and didn't care. Today was a good day. An unexpected day. A day I wish we could all experience. Perspective....it's a good thing.
The race had three sub races weaved in. There was a 10K, 5K, and 1 mile walk. After the 10K started I began to feel a bit sorry for myself. "Wish I could run" pumped in and out of my brain. Then the 5K runners took off. As I watched them burn through the start line and slip around the corner and out of sight, I could feel the frustration build inside. It's not fair I thought, I train hard and I deserve to be out there. I know I can beat a lot of them. Stupid back. Why does it have to be so freakin sore? So I walk over and pour a free cup of coffee from one of the vendor booths and continue to tell myself how unfair the world can be....unfair to me.
I hear the race director announce that the 1 mile walk is about to begin. One mile walk. I nearly laughed out loud. Gee, that's some test of endurance, walking a whole mile. The horn goes off and walkers glide past me. It was almost silly. Some of them in matching hats, others in matching shirts, and still others fiddling with their iPODs. My eyes are on the pack as they slowly round the corner - seeee ya! I say to myself. I turn back towards the start line and at that moment my day started to change. I saw a young boy maybe 8 years old using a walker with his mom by his side. He had maybe traveled 20 feet in the time everyone else had covered a couple blocks. His short shuffle steps barely moved him forward and mom was right behind him, her hands close to the walker but not quite touching it. He was proudly wearing his race number on the front of his shirt and the smile and pride on his face as he inched forward melted your heart. I cut across the grass to watch his progress. Every step deliberate, every moment special.
I walked back to the start/finish line no longer feeling that life was being unfair to me. Actually the little guy had choked me up a little. Life has tossed him a crappy card and there he was, giving that one mile everything he had. His picture is off to the left. At the finish line I began to see many special needs kids coming down the home stretch. Each one in their own way pushing hard at the finish. There were only a few spectators but the cheering was infectious. I was right there with them clapping and yelling as one after another they came across the finish line. I had tears on my cheeks and didn't care. Today was a good day. An unexpected day. A day I wish we could all experience. Perspective....it's a good thing.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Ghost Runner
The weather was perfect for racing, something you never take for granted especially in February. Over two thousand runners mingling about, stretching, jogging, some slipping in a stride or two while others talk nervously about their race plans - did they train enough? Why does everyone around look so fast? Do these running shorts make my butt look big?
10 minutes until the race starts. Everyone begins to crowd the start area. Few line up in front. That's for the elite, the speedsters, the ones we look at with wonder. As our confident grows we sneak up a bit, feeling that today just might be the day. A quick look over the shoulder and you see hundreds of runners behind you. Hope they stay back there you think - today is my day. Historically after I say this some guy pushing a racing stroller with twin fat kids slips past me.
The count down 10, 9, 8...3,2,1 and the gun sounds. Your world becomes pavement. The only thing that matters is the next 3.1 miles. At some point during the race your body gets pissed at you for what you are putting it through. Your mind takes over and you find your pace. You hear hundreds of feet hitting the road but your focus is 10-15 yards in front of you - that's your world. One more turn and you're home, breathe and push, nothing can stop you, and then you see it. Paradise. Or more commonly know as the finish line. Where it comes from we don't know but we find that little extra in ourselves and speed across the line. Spent. Out of breath. Celebrating.
Today was a day just like that. The difference today was that I didn't run. The race stats will tell a different story however. It will show that I ran the best race of my life. A 6:39 pace - a time I've dreamt about but haven't achieved. Today I was a ghost. At the race in spirit but stuck on the couch watching the clock and thinking about my friends zipping through the course. Seems I have a case of pneumonia and for a short time have traded my running shoes for a few bottles of pills.
Sharon ran my race today. She wore my racing bib and never before has anyone seen #99 run so fast. The official results don't list her. No mention of her name nor the accomplishment of finishing in the top 100 out of 2335 runners. Why train so hard, push so hard and give it up? Because she's unselfish. I guess she was really the ghost runner today. Running an amazing race that no one will ever know about except us.
So exactly how well did I do. I finished 103 of 2335 and 6th in my division while knocking out a 20:35 5K. And I did it in my pajamas. Taking my results and applying them to Sharon, she would have finished 7th in her division and left 2232 runners behind her - including the stroller with the fat twins. Albert was on his game, 16th in his division and 105 overall with a 20:36 time. I think his new shoes are keepers. Susan had a great time, 38th of 509 in her division and 386 overall. Jerry. Worth repeating. Jerry. Finished 26th overall with a 17:12 time and a 5:33 pace.
I missed running with my friends and the post Starbucks chatter. Our next race is in two weeks and I'm out. My focus will be getting ready for the Mercer Island race in March. Sharon - you best get another spanking training plan ready for me because I'll need the best you got. Albert - Sunday runs will be back soon, I look forward to them. We all hit setbacks from time to time. You can be down but not out. You can come back stronger if you have the will. The will and friends that are there to help. I have both. Run....Don't jog.
10 minutes until the race starts. Everyone begins to crowd the start area. Few line up in front. That's for the elite, the speedsters, the ones we look at with wonder. As our confident grows we sneak up a bit, feeling that today just might be the day. A quick look over the shoulder and you see hundreds of runners behind you. Hope they stay back there you think - today is my day. Historically after I say this some guy pushing a racing stroller with twin fat kids slips past me.
The count down 10, 9, 8...3,2,1 and the gun sounds. Your world becomes pavement. The only thing that matters is the next 3.1 miles. At some point during the race your body gets pissed at you for what you are putting it through. Your mind takes over and you find your pace. You hear hundreds of feet hitting the road but your focus is 10-15 yards in front of you - that's your world. One more turn and you're home, breathe and push, nothing can stop you, and then you see it. Paradise. Or more commonly know as the finish line. Where it comes from we don't know but we find that little extra in ourselves and speed across the line. Spent. Out of breath. Celebrating.
Today was a day just like that. The difference today was that I didn't run. The race stats will tell a different story however. It will show that I ran the best race of my life. A 6:39 pace - a time I've dreamt about but haven't achieved. Today I was a ghost. At the race in spirit but stuck on the couch watching the clock and thinking about my friends zipping through the course. Seems I have a case of pneumonia and for a short time have traded my running shoes for a few bottles of pills.
Sharon ran my race today. She wore my racing bib and never before has anyone seen #99 run so fast. The official results don't list her. No mention of her name nor the accomplishment of finishing in the top 100 out of 2335 runners. Why train so hard, push so hard and give it up? Because she's unselfish. I guess she was really the ghost runner today. Running an amazing race that no one will ever know about except us.
So exactly how well did I do. I finished 103 of 2335 and 6th in my division while knocking out a 20:35 5K. And I did it in my pajamas. Taking my results and applying them to Sharon, she would have finished 7th in her division and left 2232 runners behind her - including the stroller with the fat twins. Albert was on his game, 16th in his division and 105 overall with a 20:36 time. I think his new shoes are keepers. Susan had a great time, 38th of 509 in her division and 386 overall. Jerry. Worth repeating. Jerry. Finished 26th overall with a 17:12 time and a 5:33 pace.
I missed running with my friends and the post Starbucks chatter. Our next race is in two weeks and I'm out. My focus will be getting ready for the Mercer Island race in March. Sharon - you best get another spanking training plan ready for me because I'll need the best you got. Albert - Sunday runs will be back soon, I look forward to them. We all hit setbacks from time to time. You can be down but not out. You can come back stronger if you have the will. The will and friends that are there to help. I have both. Run....Don't jog.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
New Year...New Opportunities!
I won't get all sentimental about ringing in the new year, making resolutions, and all that. Will this year be a better year for you? Who knows. That's up to you and you alone. If you've spent 2009 complaining about your weight, lack of time to read, the saddle bags on your butt, too much snacking, stating one to many times that this is the "last" pack of smokes you're going to buy, than maybe you should. Between you and me don't waste your time making a list of a bunch of crap that you're not going to do anyway. Pick one thing - just one, and do it. Then pick another. Chip away my friends. Personally I decided that this year won't be another year of the same old thing. Vague statement? Maybe. Maybe you should keep an eye on me this year...
For the second year in a row I decided to run the Resolution Run 5k. It's such a great way to start the year. This race features the optional polar bear dive into Lake Washington. Last year I thought only idiots would seek out the sun baked 41 degree waters. This year in keeping with my resolution, I decided to get up close and personal with Lake Washington. I hadn't shared this brainstorm with my friends - thought I'd surprise them. It was also a statement to myself - if you're going to stray from the same old thing than why not do so on the first day of the year.
It turned out that Jerry and Susan also signed up for the dip. The stay dry team was made up of Sharon, Albert, and Rita. Rita hasn't ran with us for some time and it was good to see her back with the three stooges. Rain and wind made our arrival very cold. After packet pickup we headed to the car to stay warm until we had to get out and warm up. It was a quick warm up with the usual stop in the bushes for the pre-race pee. Rita not being as comfortable with nature waited in line with the proper folk for the Honey Bucket. We're low on patience and a good bush is hard to beat.
Once we got to the start area we pretty much split up. Etiquette is to line up according to your pace. Sharon, Albert, and Jerry up front and Susan towards the back - she had Cosmo and it's best to get toward the back if you're running with a pet. I'm not sure why I worded it that way...a pet. It's not like people are out there running with cats, sheep, and the like. Anyway, the course has an out and back flavor to it so I knew I'd see the speedsters at some point. Sure enough there they were, cruising with the front of the pack, and once again looking like it's easy. I know it's not and they are pushing hard, very hard. It's just that they never seem to have that twisted contorted look on their face that every picture seems to capture with me. I used to blame it on gas...maybe a side ache. Truth is that's how I run. I'm not half bad to look at standing still. Except for the gas...
The race was fairly uneventful. Lots of roots, torn asphalt, and huge puddles but that's about it. It had been four months since a 5k but I managed each mile in the 7:XX range...the higher end of that range but it felt good to try some speed again. When I saw pavement ahead I knew I was only minutes from "the dip". I was a little nervous about going in. If it's too cold and I'm breathing hard from running will my heart stop? Will it be so cold that I'll never recover from the shrinkage? Shouldn't I wear a life vest? By the time I finished questioning myself there it was just 50 yards in front of me - Lake Washington.
Crowds are yelling and excitement took over and next thing I know I'm in the water. I fully submerge so there's no question of whether or not I actually did it right. Waterlogged I run up the ramp, around the corner and towards the finish line. I feel great - powerful - I did it! I see Sharon smiling and yelling from the side and around the corner comes Albert. Wet hugs all around. It was great and friends made it better.
In short order Rita was there with a big smile for a race well ran. Susan came up with Cosmo - both waterlogged - apparently Cosmo didn't want to go in the water and stopped short of going in. He finally made the right choice. After a quick change of clothes (I won't go in to the detail of 40 men trying to change in a 20x20 tent but let's just say that a little more room would have resulted in a lot less accidental contact) we were off to Starbucks. I enjoy the post party as much as the race itself. It reminds me how valuable good friends are. They don't judge, they support. They push me, and help me. I know that where ever I am in a race, I'm never alone.
Metrics. Michael - 24:29 7:54 pace. 10 of 50 in my division. 136 of 931 overall. Sharon - 21:03 6:48 pace. 3 of 98 in her division. 27th overall. Women - top 5. Albert - 20:52 6:44 pace. 7 of 105 in his division. 39th overall. Rita - 27:57 9:01 pace. 18 of 124 in her division. 296th overall. Jerry - 18:19 5:55 pace. 11 of 462 in his division. 11th overall. Susan - 29:42 9:35 pace. Division unknown. 367th overall. Cosmo - ran barefoot, never complained about the leash, stopped and took a crap shortly after the race started. Better him than me....Have a great 2010. Run...don't jog.
For the second year in a row I decided to run the Resolution Run 5k. It's such a great way to start the year. This race features the optional polar bear dive into Lake Washington. Last year I thought only idiots would seek out the sun baked 41 degree waters. This year in keeping with my resolution, I decided to get up close and personal with Lake Washington. I hadn't shared this brainstorm with my friends - thought I'd surprise them. It was also a statement to myself - if you're going to stray from the same old thing than why not do so on the first day of the year.
It turned out that Jerry and Susan also signed up for the dip. The stay dry team was made up of Sharon, Albert, and Rita. Rita hasn't ran with us for some time and it was good to see her back with the three stooges. Rain and wind made our arrival very cold. After packet pickup we headed to the car to stay warm until we had to get out and warm up. It was a quick warm up with the usual stop in the bushes for the pre-race pee. Rita not being as comfortable with nature waited in line with the proper folk for the Honey Bucket. We're low on patience and a good bush is hard to beat.
Once we got to the start area we pretty much split up. Etiquette is to line up according to your pace. Sharon, Albert, and Jerry up front and Susan towards the back - she had Cosmo and it's best to get toward the back if you're running with a pet. I'm not sure why I worded it that way...a pet. It's not like people are out there running with cats, sheep, and the like. Anyway, the course has an out and back flavor to it so I knew I'd see the speedsters at some point. Sure enough there they were, cruising with the front of the pack, and once again looking like it's easy. I know it's not and they are pushing hard, very hard. It's just that they never seem to have that twisted contorted look on their face that every picture seems to capture with me. I used to blame it on gas...maybe a side ache. Truth is that's how I run. I'm not half bad to look at standing still. Except for the gas...
The race was fairly uneventful. Lots of roots, torn asphalt, and huge puddles but that's about it. It had been four months since a 5k but I managed each mile in the 7:XX range...the higher end of that range but it felt good to try some speed again. When I saw pavement ahead I knew I was only minutes from "the dip". I was a little nervous about going in. If it's too cold and I'm breathing hard from running will my heart stop? Will it be so cold that I'll never recover from the shrinkage? Shouldn't I wear a life vest? By the time I finished questioning myself there it was just 50 yards in front of me - Lake Washington.
Crowds are yelling and excitement took over and next thing I know I'm in the water. I fully submerge so there's no question of whether or not I actually did it right. Waterlogged I run up the ramp, around the corner and towards the finish line. I feel great - powerful - I did it! I see Sharon smiling and yelling from the side and around the corner comes Albert. Wet hugs all around. It was great and friends made it better.
In short order Rita was there with a big smile for a race well ran. Susan came up with Cosmo - both waterlogged - apparently Cosmo didn't want to go in the water and stopped short of going in. He finally made the right choice. After a quick change of clothes (I won't go in to the detail of 40 men trying to change in a 20x20 tent but let's just say that a little more room would have resulted in a lot less accidental contact) we were off to Starbucks. I enjoy the post party as much as the race itself. It reminds me how valuable good friends are. They don't judge, they support. They push me, and help me. I know that where ever I am in a race, I'm never alone.
Metrics. Michael - 24:29 7:54 pace. 10 of 50 in my division. 136 of 931 overall. Sharon - 21:03 6:48 pace. 3 of 98 in her division. 27th overall. Women - top 5. Albert - 20:52 6:44 pace. 7 of 105 in his division. 39th overall. Rita - 27:57 9:01 pace. 18 of 124 in her division. 296th overall. Jerry - 18:19 5:55 pace. 11 of 462 in his division. 11th overall. Susan - 29:42 9:35 pace. Division unknown. 367th overall. Cosmo - ran barefoot, never complained about the leash, stopped and took a crap shortly after the race started. Better him than me....Have a great 2010. Run...don't jog.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The Spectator
Today I watched. Nothing like hiding behind the bushes or anything. Kirkland's annual 12K's of Christmas run was today and I've been nursing a bit of a hip annoyance and as such I haven't logged much on the running trail the past two weeks. Sometimes the smarter decision is to not do something - as was the case today. No running for me. Don't shed any tears, notify the papers, or call the pansy brigade - it's a minor setback and with age (and advice from my friends) wisdom ruled.
It had been a while since the three of us packed in the car and made our way to an exciting but unforgiving road race. The anticipation always brings nerves to the surface and the chatter on the drive is littered with it - that's part of the fun. Who hurts where...why the race will probably be more than a run than a race...do I have a cold or is it simply time to blow my nose. It's crazier than it sounds but it's part of the ritual. I wouldn't trade it. Then there is the race itself. Once the gun sounds it's just you and the road. Hilly or flat, cold or hot, wet, windy - maybe everything mixed in together. It is what it will be. You know you will hurt. When is the only question. Mile one...three...the thing is that it will come. Your ability or lack there of to push it aside is the difference.
Sharon and Albert did their pre-race warm up and I took on my temporary role of caddy/butler, holding water and coats while they prepped. It can be lonely walking around while the gang is tuning up - I kept busy looking for the freebies that every race has - coffee, fruit, "special" water, and the like. As race time closed in Sharon and Albert came for their pre-race hug and handshake. That Albert, never tires of a good hug.
They took off and I figured I had 21-23 minutes to burn. Found a massage table and offered myself up to the young ladies and their interesting devices. I received a good 10 minute hammering of my hip and leg and felt better for it. Did I mention it was free? I grabbed a free water to celebrate and made my way to the finish. Before I knew it I saw Sharon coming down the stretch - flying. Albert was just seconds behind her. Smokin....over 600 runners and only a handful had finished.
Stats. Sharon finished 1st in her age division (79 runners). 5th in the woman's division. 17th overall - out of 628. Clocked 21:21. Albert finished 5th in his division (49 runners). 22nd overall. Clocked 21:43. These guys can run and they prove it every time they go out. We hit Starbucks for our post race "cool down" and recap. All too soon it was time to head out and begin the preparation for the next race. Don't have the Binky's ready just yet. I'll be there ready to run with my friends, regardless of how long they have to wait at the finish line for me :)
It had been a while since the three of us packed in the car and made our way to an exciting but unforgiving road race. The anticipation always brings nerves to the surface and the chatter on the drive is littered with it - that's part of the fun. Who hurts where...why the race will probably be more than a run than a race...do I have a cold or is it simply time to blow my nose. It's crazier than it sounds but it's part of the ritual. I wouldn't trade it. Then there is the race itself. Once the gun sounds it's just you and the road. Hilly or flat, cold or hot, wet, windy - maybe everything mixed in together. It is what it will be. You know you will hurt. When is the only question. Mile one...three...the thing is that it will come. Your ability or lack there of to push it aside is the difference.
Sharon and Albert did their pre-race warm up and I took on my temporary role of caddy/butler, holding water and coats while they prepped. It can be lonely walking around while the gang is tuning up - I kept busy looking for the freebies that every race has - coffee, fruit, "special" water, and the like. As race time closed in Sharon and Albert came for their pre-race hug and handshake. That Albert, never tires of a good hug.
They took off and I figured I had 21-23 minutes to burn. Found a massage table and offered myself up to the young ladies and their interesting devices. I received a good 10 minute hammering of my hip and leg and felt better for it. Did I mention it was free? I grabbed a free water to celebrate and made my way to the finish. Before I knew it I saw Sharon coming down the stretch - flying. Albert was just seconds behind her. Smokin....over 600 runners and only a handful had finished.
Stats. Sharon finished 1st in her age division (79 runners). 5th in the woman's division. 17th overall - out of 628. Clocked 21:21. Albert finished 5th in his division (49 runners). 22nd overall. Clocked 21:43. These guys can run and they prove it every time they go out. We hit Starbucks for our post race "cool down" and recap. All too soon it was time to head out and begin the preparation for the next race. Don't have the Binky's ready just yet. I'll be there ready to run with my friends, regardless of how long they have to wait at the finish line for me :)
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