Minor Training Respite to Celebrate

Last weekend, I traveled up to Rhode Island to support my friend Jess who was very anxiously awaiting hearing about which hospital she matched with for her residency program in Family Medicine.

After dropping her off at work for a half day on Friday morning and "holding hostage" her cell phone (prior to the big reveal at noon), I took a nice run around Providence. Given I didn't have a pre-planned route (the network of roads are worse than Boston, in my opinion -- and I  don't know these at all), my pace was certainly affected by trying to figure out where I was going to get to my main sightseeing objective.

Here it is in the distance, near the end of the first five miles down:

What, you can't tell from that shot what it is? At the turnoff to the pier that is next to is a clue that it's nearby:

Yep, you read that correctly. In this case, it's a troll named "Mrs. Skipper."

Thomas Dambo is the artist who has created a large number of these wooden trolls all around the world. And, as luck would have it, there are five of them in Rhode Island.

After my first troll found, it was time to return in time to pick up my friend from work, but there was sufficient time for me to swing by Brown University first. I had a couple of high school friends who attended Brown, and this was the very first time I ever set foot on campus. (!) It's pretty much what I expected.

But the sidewalks on the roads immediately surrounding campus were HORRIBLE to walk on (let alone attempt to run at all) -- they are so warped because of tree roots deforming the brickwork or cobblestones, I'd be amazed if there weren't a large number of injuries every year because of it.

Finally back to pick up Jess and drive to her mom's hotel room to await the e-mail that would reveal where Jess would be for the next three years, at least. Once the clock hit 11:55am, the hostage phone was returned to Jess for her to repeatedly refresh her e-mail, hoping the big news would arrive early. It didn't -- it was precisely on time.

After a tasty lunch at a really hoppin' diner, we hung out for a few hours (including going on a nice long walk near the beach with her hound, Lady) before we headed out for a celebratory dinner, meeting up with her sister and brother-in-law. Fogo de Chao is always an overwhelmingly filling but delicious meal -- great for celebrations. (And one of the reasons why I did as long a run that morning as I did -- a little forgiving on the diet.)

The next day, Saturday, was a relaxing, lazy day. After a slow morning (no run), we went to a nearby breakfast place which was wonderful and, again, packed to the gills. (We had really good fortune all weekend long with our choices of restaurant.) We then met up with her mom and sister and hung out for a while before grabbing lunch and then seeing them off to return to their respective homes. Shortly thereafter, it was time to head out to the theatre, as I had serendipitously ran past the marquee that announced the show playing until Sunday:

Wicked really is a great show (I was dismayed when they split it into two parts for the movie adaptation), and this performance was quite good, though some of the changes in the orchestration that leapt out at me throughout the show were a bit distracting. (That's the curse of knowing the soundtrack inside and out -- you'll spot the smallest of differences.) And I was amazed at just how huge the theatre was -- over 2600 seats, and over 99% of them were filled. (It happened to be the same night as PPAC's annual gala.)

The next morning arrived like the whirlwind of a weekend this was coming to an end. On my drive back down to Virginia, I took a few minor detours to finish my troll hunting from two days previous.

After parking, it took me a couple of minutes to find the path that would actually take me down towards the pond and approach Young Boulder.

While the first look is impressive, it's really rather remarkable more close up.

And his view of the pond:

My second stop of the day took a little extra time to zero in on, as the road indicated on the map was really a trail on the other side of a gate at the end of a small parking lot. Satisfied I was in the correct location, I walked the half mile to what turned out to be an auxiliary sculpture -- seemingly by the same artist -- but definitely not the main event.

Barely 100 feet further along is where my 2nd troll of the day would be sitting, waiting for me to approach.

Iver Mudslider seemed a happy sort:

Next was my last pair of trolls, situated relatively near each other in the same park.

First up was Erik Rock.

Just past Erik, you can see a small white sign. It turns out, that sign is pointing to the other troll in the park.

Continuing up the path a relatively short distance is the final stop of the day, before heading out on the long, traffic-laden drive home.

Some of the pathway on the approach to Greta Granite was adorned with strands of her necklace:

First sighting was slightly obscured.

But standing right next to this particular sculpture was even more impressive than the others.

I wonder if the artist ate all of the mollusks that comprise this necklace. That would've been a scrumptious several meals.

The troll hunt concluded, it was time to head back. Alas, with some of the accidents that were on the road, what should have taken me another 6 hours or so to return home took closer to 8. C'est la vie. It was a fun, though dizzyingly fast, weekend.

Now, it was time to get back into my training routine. After all, Just a Short Race is fast approaching less than a week away.

Marine Corps Marathon news

Some disappointing tidbits have been posted recently:

• Yet again, the north entrance to Runner's Village (from Rosslyn) will be mostly closed. Only people with the proper pass (e.g., those running for charity and entering the charity village, or those considered VIPs, etc.) will be able to enter through this entrance. Anyone else coming from Rosslyn will need to take Metro. Beware of just how packed it gets -- last year, the first train that came from Rosslyn was so packed that not everyone who was on the platform was able to board the first train. And exiting upon arrival was very difficult and cumbersome.
• The 10k is currently in limbo. MCMO is still awaiting answers from its partners, which would affect whether it is held or not, or if other adjustments need to be made.
• The 50k will no longer be held during MCM weekend. They are looking at the possibility of holding it as its own standalone event. It seems to me that this would indicate that it will be permanently discontinued, since there certainly aren't enough people who run it annually to support holding it as its own event (in my opinion), unless there are some major changes to the course to minimize its disruptive effects on the surrounding area, including vastly reducing the police/security presence needed to secure the route, etc. 
• Remember from what was announced after last year's MCM: there are no more deferrals permitted, nor any bib transfers. If someone offers you a bib -- and it isn't via the official charity route or regular registration on the MCM website -- it's a scam; walk away.

So, You're Saying There's a Chance

As you know, I was squeaked out of qualifying for the April's Boston Marathon last year by about 2 minutes. (Grrr....) 

I tried very hard to acquire a charity bib. Bit by bit, I applied to far more charities than I ever expected to. Approximately 18 in total over the course of about 4 months or so. Alas, I was unsuccessful.

So, it seems like the only avenues remaining are the occasional contest. I applied for the World Marathon Tour -- nope! I looked at the Poland Spring contest, but was ineligible because VA residents were not among those who could apply.

Most recently, the contest for four bibs sponsored by Band-Aid brand bandages. I posted my video a few days ago; today is the end of the contest period. We'll all find out next week who wins those bibs. Grand total of FOUR are up for grabs. Fingers crossed.

Do any of you have direct connections, or close friends/family with direct connections to any of the Boston Marathon partners: sponsors, licensees, and contributors who might be able to acquire a sponsor bib? If I don't get one of the four Band-Aid bibs, an extremely rare sponsor bib likely would be the last-gasp opportunity.

Los Angeles Marathon Making Multiple Headlines

In the lead-up to the L.A. Marathon this past Sunday, there was a sizable outcry (with which I totally agree) related to their decision to allow people who didn't finish the entire course to get finisher medals. The weather forecast was calling for high temperatures in the low to mid 80s (and actually hitting approximately 90). So, given the layout of the course which has Mile 18 very close to the finish line, where people do an "out-and-back" portion to close out the final 8+ miles of the course, the race organizers said they were going to let people have the option of crossing the finish line at that point, for those people who are "having a tough day" (i.e., not responding well to the heat). 

To me, this was a horrible decision to make. It cheapens the medal being a finisher's medal by handing it out to an untold number of people who didn't actually finish the race. Yes, 80s+ temperatures are very hot, atrocious to run in. (I've done it on numerous occasions. Most recently in San Antonio just a week prior, when temps hit around the low to mid 80s by the time I finished.) That's where your race protocols are supposed to take over. At what combined temperature and humidity do you "red flag" the event? (warn people to slow) Or even "black flag" the event? (stop the event from continuing any further) Same as far as ambulances and ER availability is concerned -- if you are overwhelming those services, the event likely needs to be cut short or ended. Alternately, do you have additional water that was placed out on the course? Are participants being "hosed down" by extra impromptu stations along the course? Are there other cooling methods being supplied? Is there any opportunity to start the race an hour earlier so that there is an hour less of blazing sunlight? (This latter one is increasingly difficult the more jurisdictions that would need to sign off on the shifted permit timeframe, but still worth looking into.)

Then, wouldn't you know it, the drama shifted from the finish line as it affects "the mass participation" runners to the finish of the men's elite field. Absolutely astonishing come-from-behind sprint finish with a final difference of 0.01 seconds between first and second place. With about 800 meters to go, there was still a large gap between Nathan Martin (U.S.) and Michael Kimani Kamau (Kenya). The video of the enormous surge of speed that Nathan made to nip Michael right at the tape is astonishing to watch. And Michael had left it ALL on the course, to such an extent that he instantly collapsed as he crossed the finish line. Were it not for Nathan coming on "like a freight train" there, officials could have been a little closer and possibly been able to catch Michael on his way down. But, given what did unfold, they wound up taking him off in a stretcher.

This is all the more devastating a loss for Michael Kamau because of what happened about 90 seconds earlier. There is video that was posted on X showing that a fan (carrying/waving about a Kenya flag) wound up crossing right in front of him, distracting and confusing him enough where he went around the right-hand side of a barrier that he should have stayed on the left side of. He paused for several seconds as he was directed back onto the correct area so he could properly finish. That total stop of momentum and then needing to get back on course and up to some semblance of speed, when you already have all your energy stores nearly totally depleted, is IMMENSELY difficult. That he was able to nearly beat Nathan Martin -- who didn't have anything similar happen to him, so his forward momentum was unimpeded -- is pretty damned impressive. Hopefully there will be enough of an outcry over what happened to Michael Kamau that the Race Director will take measures to make sure there is some semblance of barrier between spectators and the runners during the last, say 1/2 mile to 1 mile of the course; there is no excuse for permitting this sort of thing to happen. Sure, I'm happy that an American won the race, but I would prefer it if it were not at least partly due to the lack of sufficient crowd control.

Beware Daylight Saving Time, Runners!

 

Thanks to the U.S. in 2007 changing when Daylight Saving Time starts and ends, the U.S. is out of sync with the rest of the world when we leap forward and fall back.

Sunday, March 8 marks the beginning of Daylight Saving Time in the U.S., while the rest of the world that bothers with Daylight Saving Time stays in Standard Time for a few more weeks.

So, for those marathoners who have a race in the U.S. tomorrow -- beware, you LOSE an hour of sleep to rest up for your travails. (As opposed to the blessing that is GAINING the hour of sleep in advance of the New York City Marathon every November.)

Lafayette General Zydeco Marathon

Los Angeles Marathon

Petit Indoor Marathon

Hmmm... maybe that's why there are so few marathons on the calendar for tomorrow -- too high a risk that people will be off by that single hour... in the wrong direction.

Enjoy the run! Wherever it takes you.

Run the Alamo... Not-Quite Marathon

The morning started off just fine for me, having gotten to sleep early for Central Time (basically close to my normal East Coast time). Finished my usual prep relatively quickly and got out the door to the very warm morning. It was about 90 minutes before sunrise, and it was already in the mid-60s. Great for walking and spectating, but was a harbinger of the difficult conditions yet to come for those of us running, especially the full marathon.

Just like the Sydney Marathon when I ran it, the city was totally devoid of any advertising related to the marathon. If you didn't already know there would be a marathon being run, you'd have no way of knowing it until/unless you stumbled across the closed roads. There weren't even signs in the immediate vicinity of the "runners village" area pointing people the right way. But I made it to the pacer meet-up a few minutes early despite that.

After a little socialization and a quick meeting setting expectations, and taking a few group photos, we broke, for last minute warm-ups, pit stops, etc. and then lined up. I went to the portapotties, but decided after a few minutes in line (which wasn't moving fast enough) that I had to take the chance of not going one last time before setting out. (Fortunately, that wasn't a problem.) 

But coming back up towards where I understood the start line to be, I was very confused about where I should actually be. I think the first several pace groups wound up lining up a little too close together. In the end, it likely didn't negatively affect anyone -- our signs were totally visible, and people spread out relatively quickly enough after the start, so anyone starting too far back compared to a pacer could relatively easily catch up in short order to their planned group.

The race was a bit behind schedule. In part because the person who was to sing the national anthem was behind schedule arriving to the area. And in part on the fact that he sang "America the Beautiful" first -- not typical; in fact, I've never heard anything other than the national anthem sung immediately before a marathon.

I took a moment ahead of the start to ask the people in my immediate vicinity how many of them were looking to run 4:15 (the time I was pacing). I had not quite a dozen people who appeared to respond.

But, finally, about 5 minutes late, we got to the final countdown.

And we were off!

After a little while, I started to engage in a little bit of chit-chat and found out that one of the people in my group was also named Jared -- one of the two high schoolers in the group. He and his friend Victor (a senior and a junior) were running their very first marathon. What I didn't know until well after the race was that they were taking video approximately every mile marker. It's all the more amusing in hindsight because, as you'll see, at Mile 2, they made a comment for the video that they were a little late... and I pointed out that Mile 2 was a couple of minutes prior.

(Both the videos above are courtesy of Jared.)

The mile markers in the early going of the race were particularly awkward. No one in my group saw the Mile 1 marker, myself included. Without that, I had no good way of helping to calibrate my pace. Annoyingly enough, while my Garmin was showing me one pace through about 1/2 mile (pretty much where I wanted to be), it suddenly dropped to about 20 seconds faster for no apparent reason -- though my pace hadn't changed. So, what was the true pace? I was hoping to figure that out with the marker, but with it unseen, I had to go with what the watch was telling me. OK, so pull the pace back somewhat, great. I'll never get any complaints from runners about recognizing that and doing it.

The Mile 2 marker was a very small sign on one of the cones in the road. (Apparently, as I would find out later, so was Mile 1.) And we passed that when I still had about 0.05 miles to go according to my watch. Oy, great. A short "mile" and, again, in part because of that, my pace was too fast. (At the pace I was running, .05 miles is about 25 seconds or so - a major difference in speed.) And with the new marker, I would "lap" the watch so that the lap distance would start anew, as would the lap pace, so I could continue refining the pace.

And so it would go for the first SIX miles. Each marker was too early. And so, too, my splits were too fast. Try as I might to get closer to what the average should be, because I did *not* want to burn out my group by going out too fast.

Mercifully, I was able to slow it down to closer to 10-minute miles (rather than the 9:40 - 9:44 that it should have been) for the next several miles, to try to bleed back some of that time and help conserve some of the energy stores of my runners. (I don't like the theory of "banking time" and, unfortunately, I unwittingly managed to do so because of the way the course was marked.)

As you can hear in the previous video, I was mentioning to one of the runners right next to me (who asked each mile how we were doing) that we were definitely too fast, that I was trying to rein things in.

Given the excessive heat of the day, as is my wont, I made sure to announce at each water stop that people needed to drink and douse. After the first water stop, where I discovered just how small the water cups were, and many not even half full of liquid, we would certainly need to take longer at the water stops, which would also help some with the pacing issue. Also adding into that decision was the fact that there were very few lengths of tables for each stop, and not many volunteers to help handing out the cups. Often, we had to stop still to be able to grab the cup of water in question. I never like having to stop for that. It's one thing to slow to a walk -- no issues with that -- but to have to stand still, find what you're looking for, take it, and go, I find that grating. And then starting back up, especially in the later miles when legs aren't nearly as fresh nor as forgiving, that becomes increasingly more difficult.

As it turns out, I had a few half marathoners in the group, and they split off at about mile 9 while the marathoners turned the other way. After the split, we were a group of about 6 or 7. 

But the heat of the day was certainly taking its toll. Alas, the high schoolers fell off pace shortly after the half-way point. (Surprisingly enough, not only was there no timing mat to get a split time there, there wasn't even a marker to officially indicate we had gone half way. Really?!) And then, a couple more fell off pace somewhere around Mile 16-18. In that area, though, I caught up with one of the people I knew had started out with the 4:00 group and chatted briefly with him. Given some jokes from earlier that morning when I met him, I joked that his (now former) pacer would give him a good-natured hard time after the finish. What I didn't know until well afterwards (when the pacers met up for post-race lunch/drinks) was that he was a huge bundle of nerves not because of the marathon itself (having run several previously) but because he was carrying an engagement ring, and was set to propose to his girlfriend right after crossing the finish line. (Apparently he had arranged in advance with the Race Director to permit his girlfriend (who was not running in the race) to join him for the last bit to run with him across the finish, setting up the finish line proposal and video/photo. Very sweet.)

I had two last people with me through Mile 20. About 3 hours in (so, somewhere around Mile 17-18) the sun decided it was going to come out from behind the clouds and stay out. That's when conditions really got really bad and took their most severe toll on the runners. 

Around Mile 24, I crossed paths with one other person who I knew was starting in the 4-hour group (who I knew from other previous races). The sun very much did in both him and the person he was running with. He made the choice to continue with the other person's slowed pace to help him out. Definitely a mensch.

Finally in the home stretch, with less than a half mile to go, there was a spot (the 2nd or 3rd of the course) where I was unsure of which direction to go, and there wasn't anyone else running closely in front of me to blindly follow. Thankfully, I turned my head to the right just in time to see one of the arrows being used as course markers about a block away, so I knew to turn to get to that marker and turn. 

And then my watch was telling me I was at Mile 26, but there was no sign to that effect anywhere near. I had no way of knowing how much of an additional calibration I might need to make sure I didn't finish outside my given 1-minute time window. I made sure to keep it at the ~10:10 pace that I had been doing, and thankfully that did the trick, barely. My final time was 4:14:05 -- just inside the acceptable region for my 4:15 pacing.

In the end, after collecting some of the post-race food and drink, sitting down to eat, and chat with the other pacers who were at our finish area table, I took a look at what distance my watch indicated I had run: 25.88 miles. Anyone who runs using a Garmin knows that it will ALWAYS show a distance longer than what your marked/measured distance is, because you are not running all of the tangent lines perfectly, and there's also weaving around people and to/from the water stops -- all of which adds distance on compared to what the official measurement would be. And since I did NOT cut the course (though I came close a few times to doing so inadvertently because of poor/confusing course marking), that means that the course was not just 1/3 mile short, but likely even shorter than that. Taking a quick look at the USATF certification, the only spot that I am pretty certain we ran differently than was measured is the return trip through Mission San Juan. The certification implies that we would be running back along the same exact path inside the mission as we ran going out initially. Instead, what we wound up doing is finishing the circuit of the interior of the mission, if I recall correctly. That doesn't appear to be *much* of a difference in distance, but each such similar difference adds up real fast.

I've since e-mail the race organizers, and they have acknowledged receiving similar feedback from several other runners of the half and full marathon. Enough so that they are starting off with the assumption that we are correct about the course being incorrectly set up. They are in the process of trying to figure out what went wrong and put in procedures to prevent similar issues from occurring in the future. I'm hoping to find out what the actual measurement of the course as-run was. My prediction is that it was closer to 25.75 miles.

After chatting a little while at the finish area and slowly but surely gathering up more of the pacers as they kept crossing the line, many of us went to a nearby bar -- Durty Nelly's. While others had a cold brew, I had a pretty good cheeseburger. (I know, what a shock.)

And they had a great person on the keyboard entertaining everyone.

After hanging out for at least an hour or so, I bade farewell and made my way back to the hotel to shower, change, and recover for a few hours before heading out to dinner. (Rather than continuing to watch the news, I wound up finding a couple of documentaries on Mel Brooks -- hysterical!)

Along my walk, I was caught a bit off-guard by a highly unexpected sign in one of the windows:

Granted, they were closed, and confusingly enough had a couple of lit electrical hanukkiahs, but it was still amusing nonetheless.

In advance of my trip, I had decided that I would go to get barbecue at a restaurant one of my acquaintances is associated with. Along the way, I marveled at the extremely loud (and unexpected, to me) cacophony from several flocks of birds that seemed to swarm everywhere downtown. Apparently they are great-tailed grackles. Here's a large lineup of them, as if Alfred Hitchcock was staging them.

But the sound of them -- oy!

I finally arrived at the restaurant, and was simultaneously encouraged and dismayed at the enormous line outside. Clearly, I picked a supremely popular spot -- surely it must have been as good as I was expecting, to be this busy. Shortly after I got on line, there were a couple of people who had taken the initiative to go in to find out just how long the wait would be. Both times, they returned with the report it would take an hour. I wasn't happy about that, but could deal. But the second person also reported back that they were informed the restaurant was starting to run out of menu items. It was one thing for me to wait an hour to get in, under continuing threat of being bombarded by the birds in the trees overhead. (One woman in line just in front of me actually did get hit by a little something from one of the birds.) I finally landed on a place that, as it turns out, was about 2 blocks from my hotel (as opposed to the mile away that I was).

As I was approaching, I was disappointed with my choice. The place was virtually empty. While the brisket that I did get was ok, it wasn't anything special. Oh well.

While it was certainly a difficult day, it was still a good time. Next up, pacing for Just A Short Run late this month, and then marathon (or longer) #95 for me -- Coast Guard Marathon -- the day after I turn 54 (my 6th race pacing for OnPace Race). Hopefully this time around, the neighborhoods will have traffic controlled well enough so that we don't have it coming at us (even if very slowly) from both directions when we aren't in a protected portion of the street.