Author: 36jonraessler50

Course measurement is a critical part of any race and with the proliferation of GPS watches, is something that sparks plenty of post-race discussion. Prior to these watches becoming a relatively common asset, there was no easy way to see how far you ran compared to the published distance. Now, it’s easy for us to stop the watch at the finish line and check, and it’s not uncommon for the GPS to be close but a bit different.

I created a 5K course last spring for a few of us to do for a time trial. In the couple of weeks leading up to it, I ran the course multiple times and always came up with 3.1 miles. When we ran it, the course came up short. This baffled me. It was along a trail that I use frequently and in the days following the time trial, I noticed that my measurements were showing differently: long, short, and spot-on, depending on the day.

Similarly, when I ran the virtual marathon earlier this fall, I had the course picked out based on past measurements. On the day of, my watch and phone were giving me different mileage and neither matched the prior distance marks. When a few of us did a time trial on a track and ran the exact same distance, our watches were all slightly different.

If my watch doesn’t match the published distance, either long or short, then unless a course is way off, I’ll just go with the advertised length but acknowledge the caveat of the measurement. It’s possible my watch was right, it’s possible their measurement was right.

One way to know with certainty that you’re covering the full distance is to run a certified road race course. The one downside here is that these are measured to be at least the race distance. The organizers take the course and measure the shortest possible way someone can cover the 5K or marathon or whatever distance is advertised. This is important because if someone does set a record, they need to have covered the full distance and not be even a little bit shy of it. It also means that unless you’re able to run the shortest possible version of it, you’re going to be a bit long on your final mileage. The easiest way to cover your exact distance is to go to a track. If you stick to the inside line (and don’t step over it) the entire time, you will go the precise number of miles or kilometers you’re aiming for.

I ran a 5K yesterday. The weekend prior to the race, a friend of mine and I had run the course twice to get familiar with it and plot out our race strategy. When I got there and saw where the finish line was set up, I was surprised to see that it was a little short of where we figured it should have been. At the end of the race, my watch showed 3.06, or .04 miles off of the full 3.1.

My time goal had been a 19:55 with mile splits of 6:20/6:40/6:10. I ended up with a 19:25 and 6:23/6:38/6:03 on my watch. It’s possible the course wasn’t quite 3.1. On the other hand, I felt better than expected in the last mile and was pushing hard, so maybe it was a good day. Given that the time difference wouldn’t have pushed me past any major threshold and that the difference was within a reasonable margin of error, I’ll take the time.

At my run club a couple of weeks ago, the coordinator asked if we would be interested in a time trial at the following week’s club. I told her “definitely” and right after, I regretted my response. Having not done any speed work in nearly a year and being on the tail end of marathon recovery, as the week wore on and the time trial drew closer, my sense of regret grew exponentially.

When run club arrived, I’d hoped that maybe the coordinator had forgotten about the time trial or decided she didn’t want to bother with it. Instead, she announced that there would be a one-mile race following the regular run. Since I had nudged this idea into action, I felt obligated to participate. I ran a light three miles to loosen up, then made my way to the starting line.

Only seven of us (out of roughly forty at run club) lined up and based on what I knew about everyone else’s speed, I figured I’d finish somewhere between third and fifth. The course was on a mostly deserted road behind the store and would be out and back, with the first half uphill and the second half down. Chalk marks on the pavement indicated the start, turnaround, and finish.

The race started. As usual, the first 100 meters felt great. The speed was good, I was in fourth, and the thrill of the race was strong. And then you get 100 meters in and realize, “This is terrible.” The breathing becomes awful and, especially if you’re on an uphill start, you’re already feeling a slight burn. About twenty seconds after that gut punch, I dropped from fourth to sixth and could only think “I’m almost to the quarter-mile point.”

As we made our way from the quarter to the turnaround, “This is terrible” reverberated more and more strongly, and I glanced at my watch to see how close we were to the turnaround. If I could only get there, I thought I could possibly handle this thing.

A near knockout bout of “This is terrible” hit me, the turnaround appeared, and then something happened. I could see the next two runners ahead of me start to let up a little bit and I thought I might have a shot at passing them. When this happens in a race or time trial, it can serve as a boost of energy. We started our way back and downhill, and I made my move to pass them.

Once I’d passed them and gotten back into fourth, “This is terrible” quickly came back as I realized it would not be easy to keep them behind me. I started leaning on the idea that we had less than half the race to go. As I heard the footsteps behind me, I kept pushing harder and harder. The footsteps never relented, and I began to wonder if I’d surged too soon. I felt maxed out and there was no next gear to kick into. I checked my watch. A quarter mile to go.

From this point, I could see the finish line and I kept upping my speed. I was about 60% convinced I could hold on to my spot at this point, until we reached the “finish line” and were told that the course was short. We had another 150 meters to go. I hadn’t let up, thank goodness, and kept churning my legs, waiting for the glorious “beep” from my watch that would signal the one-mile point. By now, I was 90% sure I would keep my place but no matter, I pressed a bit harder.

Crossing the line was nothing short of relief. All of our lungs were burning and it would take a while to feel back to normal, but we were done. I’d barely held onto fourth with a 5:47. Not my fastest ever or even in recent years but given where my training stands, I’ll take it.

Even if you’re not prepared, a time trial can be a lot of fun. I suspect pride was fueling my reluctance to participate. Who wants to botch a race? “This is terrible” can be a common theme in any distance race and while it may seem odd that runners continue to race, there is an adrenaline factor that pushes us. Despite my lack of preparation and regret, the thrill of the race won out. Ultimately, it was fun.

Seasonal transition is often evident on the running trail. In these photos, one moment you’re enjoying a crisp and clear autumn day and a half mile later, you see storm clouds brewing over the mountains. While our area is still not expecting frigid temperatures for a little while, they are coming and it’s a good time to check out the winter wardrobe.

I’ve written two posts on winter running gear in the past so I’ve linked to those in the interest of not being overly repetitive.

The cold weather may slow us down but it shouldn’t prevent us from getting out onto the road or trail in the first place. Plan ahead now and when those storm clouds finally show up, you’ll be ready.

A note on race recovery time. I’m twenty-six days out from my marathon and during that time, I’ve been able to tell that the recommendations of one recovery day for every mile of the race distance are spot on. I’ve been running but my longest distance has been six and through all of them, I can tell that taking it easy is the right thing to do. Though on a technicality I’ll be past the recovery time by tomorrow, I’ll still build back up slowly.

A few years ago I posted that I’d run in 28 different states and since that time, I’ve added three more: Nevada, Arizona, and this past week, Oregon.

I travelled to Portland for a work conference and upon arriving, I initially figured that my Oregon miles would need to be logged by running loops in a nearby parking lot. Downtowns are usually tricky for running and though I’d gone to Google maps and found a path along the Willamette River which was about a half mile from my hotel, while walking to the conference the first day, I spent a little while looking for an access point to that path and couldn’t find one, at least one that didn’t involve going through rail yards or over concrete barricades.

While setting up the conference at the convention center, one of the warehouse foremen heard me lamenting the lack of running options in the area. It turned out he was a runner and knew the way to the river. Using his instructions, I set out the next morning and voila, there was the path.

Downtown Portland has acquired a less-than-savory reputation over the past eighteen months but since I was there for a total of six days, I doubt I have deep enough knowledge to fully comment on the city. However, though I had found a way to the river, I kept my hopes moderate for what I would find.

The river path was a small gem in the city. The first morning I ran, it was post-sunrise and running along the water was quite pleasant. A group of us met well before sunrise the next morning and wound our way down to the path. The lights from the city provided a vibrant backdrop for the run and cemented my view that the path was quite the find.

Often when travelling I keep my runs in the 30-minute range and there was a good turnaround point on the path that seemed designed for that length of run. Some chunks of basalt columns at this spot intrigued my geologist friends who were with me, who took a look at them before we started the trek back. While the path didn’t allow me to absorb the area as I might on other urban or rural routes when travelling, it was a relaxing stretch of running, a good getaway.

(One final note. Another gem of Portland is Powell’s City of Books. For any long-time Denver residents, it reminded me of the former Tattered Cover store at Cherry Creek. Multiple levels and shelves upon shelves of books. They don’t have just general sections. There are sections within sections of genres to help guide your search.)

26.2 miles of virtual London came and went and I finished in 3:28, a bit shy of 3:10, though I did manage to keep my pace under 8:00/mile at 7:58. A couple of friends ran part of the course and worked to help nudge me towards a faster time (for which I was grateful) and the Gatorade hand-offs from them and my family went smoothly (for which I was also grateful) but it was a day where things didn’t align quite the way I’d hoped. Racing is a finicky beast. Some days you hit your pace, some days you exceed it, and some days you do neither.

On an amusing note, I have four different finishing times from Sunday ranging from 3:27 to 3:32 based on which watch or app number you look at. (London supplied  a GPS app on my phone to “officially” track my distance and time.) Once I enabled the London App, it took me about a minute to get my phone into its pouch and then begin the run. 3:28 is what I was shown when the London App, with fanfare and cheering, announced that I was done. 3:29 was what it said when the app actually got to 26.2 miles. My GPS watch was measuring distance shorter than the app so according to it, I had a 3:32 when I finished. Factoring in the one minute of phone-to-pouch time and applying it against the 3:29 to get 3:28 seems like the most accurate version. Also, that’s what they gave me when they essentially said “You’re done” so I’m going with that one.

My last marathon was sixteen years ago and I wondered how things would look with that many more years and miles on the legs. Will I do another one? Maybe, but it’s unwise to make that kind of decision right after an event. For now, I’m happy I did it, I echo being glad that I at least kept it under 8:00/mile, and there’s a 10K in late November that sounds interesting…

I’m pushing my formal blog post to this coming Monday so that I can report back on my virtual marathon experience. Officially, it’s on 3 October and as a virtual participant, I can complete it any time on that day according to the British clock. This gives me from 5:00 p.m. Saturday the 2nd through 4:59 p.m. on Sunday the 3rd. I’m planning on a 7:00 a.m. start–this is important as a couple of friends are helping me out and meeting me along the course–and the weather forecast is favorable. More to come on how it all plays out…

One of my primary concerns around the virtual marathon on 3 October was mental fatigue. This isn’t boredom as my mind is always racing (no pun intended, really) and I enjoy the ability to lose myself in thought on long runs. Rather, pushing yourself at race pace while on your own outside of an official race is challenging and I could see it being quite easy to spiral into mental fatigue, especially if I was falling off the pace at all. It’s one reason I considered running the event with less emphasis on my time and more on savoring the run.

However, as I’ve gotten into the details of planning, it’s clear that there will be quite a lot to focus on over the course of 26.2 miles and the risk of mental fatigue seems less than I would have thought. On that note, at this point I’ll go for a 3:10 overall time and I’ve picked my course.

I’ve penciled in goal times for each of the 26.2 miles (including the .2!) based on how far along I am and where the hills are located. For example, if a mile includes a longer uphill segment, I’ve got a slower time goal. On race day, I’ll tape a card on my arm listing these splits and the cumulative time next to them so that I can quickly glance down to see how I’m doing. Doing this every mile isn’t a frequent distraction but it helps, and there’s more.

For hydration, my basic approach is that starting at the three mile point, I take a decent swallow of fluid every quarter mile. I’ve used less and more fluids than I expected on my longer runs but the every quarter mile strategy is a good minimum based on what I’ve experienced. If I hold to a 7:15 mile pace, that means taking a drink every 1:48 or so. My route is familiar enough that I know where most of the quarter mile points are but I will need to check my watch. Taking a drink every two minutes (roughly) may sound like long intervals, but I have missed a few on some long runs and so it does require some focus. This plus checking the mile splits keeps me fairly busy, and yet there’s even more.

Beyond the basic details of pace and fueling it will also be important to maintain the broad strategies and though that may seem obvious, it’s also easy to veer off of a plan. Sometimes you should change but generally you avoid it because if you’ve put time, experience, and evidence into the plan, it’s likely sound. While I don’t anticipate going out at a substantially faster pace and assuming I can hold that, if I’m rested and in the condition I hope I’m in, it can be easy to go out several seconds faster per mile and that also can set you back later. Adjusting this can be challenging as it’s risky to slow down too much and then have to make time back up, but you don’t want to burn out the engines early. On the fueling, if the day is cooler than anticipated, I might head into the final several miles thinking I can handle it with no further liquids but that would probably be a mistake.

Hydration and pace strategy will have to be designed for any long race, even a major marathon with thousands of people to keep you company. But, I hadn’t realized how much of a focus they can be and sticking to my overall plan, while properly hydrating and checking the per-mile times, should keep my brain pretty busy. (Given that my past marathons were 16-plus years ago, I also suspect that my hydration plan back then was to drink at the aid stations and then keep trucking–probably a benefit of being younger that I didn’t fully appreciate at the time.) Mental fatigue could still be a factor but it seems less likely than when I first started considering how to approach this race. How it actually plays out remains to be seen…

This post isn’t about stretching in the traditional sense, it’s about extending workout distances. Couldn’t resist a bit of word play.

This past Saturday I ran eighteen miles though my plan was sixteen. Things changed because at mile twelve I was feeling good and figured I could stretch it out to twenty. After juggling various extensions beyond sixteen in my mind for few minutes, I settled on eighteen. Could I have gone twenty? Yes. Two things held me back. I didn’t want to deviate too far off the plan and create a greater risk of injury that day or the ones that followed. The risk was low but my mileage was already on the higher end for the week. Also, there’s feeling thrashed after a long run (which I did) and there’s running to a point beyond that. Doing the latter would not have prevented me from lacing up the shoes the next day or embarking on another long run, but I chose to feel solid about already extending a distance run, as opposed to having gone beyond reasonable training boundaries.

There is supposed to be some pain when training for any race distance and you won’t be feeling joyful and inspired after every run. But, driving yourself to extreme pain on every workout can be counterproductive.

How do you judge when to keep to the prescribed distance or workout versus when to stretch it out? Part of it for me is feel. If things are going well, maybe I add on just a bit to a distance run. Or, if I’m doing a speed workout such as five 800s and I’m nailing my splits while feeling good, I might set a slightly faster time goal for the final one or two of those. (I would approach adding on splits, especially longer ones, with great caution.)

If I’m feeling good, I don’t mind adding just a little distance or upping the tempo a bit. It’s good to take advantage of a day where you’re feeling better than normal. And, since there are plenty of “meh” or painful days, for me it’s preferable to launch out of a better-than-expected workout into the next one as opposed to running myself ragged and wasting the boost I could have had.

When training for any distance or race, it’s always important to research what you need to do for your mileage schedule and build-up, including long runs and speedwork. It’s also important to plan out your nutrition and gear. You need to research these (I primarily talk with other runners), experiment to see what works best for you, and then go with that. In some ways, experimenting with energy drinks and food and gear can be almost or equally as important as the mileage because you want to maximize what they can do for you. Also, you want to wake up on race morning with your pre-race and in-race fueling and gear plans set in stone. If you show up not being completely sure of your plans or having done something new that morning, or even the night before, it can throw you off.

Learning to take in fluids while running takes a little getting used to but you’ve done it, it comes very naturally. You may goof up every now and then, such as taking in a little too much or little, but you can compensate. It’s why you train so that on race day, your body and brain are acclimated to what you need and you’re not thinking of it for the first time.

There have been a couple of times when I thought that I could go rogue on what I ate before a long or intense training run and that just wasn’t true. While I can get away with doing so for shorter runs, there are some things that just don’t work well for long runs or speed work. For example (and this list is not all-inclusive), spicy green chili the night before, fried eggs the morning of, or going too soon after drinking coffee. Fortunately, I did only try them (again) before a training run and not a race. Lesson reinforced. (My race and long-run breakfasts are two pieces of bread with peanut butter, a banana, and one cup of coffee. This, taken in an appropriate amount of time before the race or long training run, has worked well.)

It’s also important to test gear. I nearly screwed up one of my favorite runs around Furnace Creek, California, a few years ago, because of an equipment choice. I had planned to carry a bottle of Gatorade but at the last second, grabbed a small drawstring-bag to wear. I’d never done this before and the first quarter-mile was terrible, as the bag with the bottle in it banged around on my back. I stopped and cinched the straps tightly enough that it stayed in place but it was lucky that it worked.

I have a Camelbak water bottle belt that I wear on long runs and it is excellent. Besides the bottle holder, it has a small, zippered pouch. I decided it would be wise to carry a spare cloth mask and some cash in case I needed to make a stop along the way for a Gatorade purchase, etc. I didn’t need to stop and when I got back to my house, I learned that the pouch on the Camelbak, at least mine, is not waterproof. The mask and cash were soaked with sweat, which was pretty gross. For the next runs I’ll make sure to put extra items in a plastic baggie. Maybe a store clerk wouldn’t care about a sweaty runner in a foul mask handing them a soaked $5 bill, but…

You never can be entirely sure how your body will react to various drinks, food, or gear. While it’s frustrating to have even a training run, even a short one, interrupted by a poor choice, that’s preferable to having something go wrong on race morning, or even dealing with anxiety of trying to figure it out. There will be enough surprises and adjustments on race day. Pre-race preparation, what you wear, and how you refuel during the race (if applicable), don’t have to be among them.

A couple of people have asked how my marathon training is progressing so here is an update. I’ve been of two minds recently. I still have 3:10 as a goal, or 7:15 pace. However, while a few of my friends have graciously offered to pace me for a significant portion of that, I’m also open to running the 26.2 along a course that I will enjoy. In this scenario, any focus on time would be secondary.

I ran 15 miles the other day. It was the first time in over three years that I’d run fifteen straight-through. Part of me was a bit disappointed with how wiped out I felt following the run. Yet, there were a few factors influencing that. I had run six miles the afternoon before. Also, it was very warm. I enjoy running in warm weather and as I’ve mentioned, I still need to compensate for the heat. I under-packed on fluids and took in fewer than I would have liked in the middle portion of the run in order to conserve enough for miles ten through thirteen. (I figure that taking any new fluids in during the last couple of miles doesn’t really help you.) All that said, I kept the pace at under eight minutes per mile and came away with three lessons learned. I will definitely need to carry gels or something solid to eat. It wasn’t necessary for fifteen miles and I had remembered I would need solid food energy for the marathon, but this was knowing I would need it. Also, I will need to carry more fluids than I thought. And, if the day is forecast to be on the warm side, I’ll go for an earlier start, especially if I’m aiming for a fast time.

I’m far from settled on my course. If I’m really going for speed, I may do this on the local track. Everyone tells me this would be awful but oddly, 105 400M laps sounds better than the second option which is a course that I’ve mapped out from my house and would involve significant hills and a few longer repetitive loops. A third option is an out-and-back starting a little east of me. If I decide to go for running 26.2 without being concerned about time, then I’ll figure out a course that would be fun to run without as much consideration for elevation gain or traffic stops.

I remember in past years when I logged higher mileage while training for a marathon or 50K that my perspective on distance shifted. In “normal” times, four to six miles is a standard run for me. Once I shift into higher mileage, those runs become more recovery length. While I remembered this, I’d forgotten what knowing it was until the other day. After logging more mileage than I had planned last week, I used Sunday as a recovery day, did four miles, and considered adding on one or two more. Several weeks ago, my view of a four mile run would have been quite different and I’m going with the thought that it’s a good thing my body and brain have shifted into this new mindset.

I mapped out mileage goals before all of this started. I included a long run every week (anything ten miles or longer) but also felt that I might need to alternate long-run weeks. I’m forty-two with roughly twenty-eight years of running experience. I don’t want to overdo it and though lifetime mileage doesn’t substitute for current training, it does mean I can adjust a bit when needed. There have been a few weeks where my longest run was shorter than ten. My weekly mileage has been close to what I listed as my goals. Some weeks I’m a few miles longer and others, I may be a couple of miles short. Though I know I’ve basically been within my plan parameters, for the first time this past Saturday I added up the total miles from my schedule versus what I’ve done. The result? I had planned on 303 miles through these first weeks and I was at 303.5.

I’ve got six more weeks, including this one, of higher mileage training before shifting into taper mode. In some ways October 3^rd feels very close but there are still a bunch of miles to go.