Untamed Runner

Picking a spring race is challenging given that winter training tends to have more weather-related interruptions.

We had a couple of decent-sized snowstorms in the past few weeks. Often in our area, snow is followed by sun and we’re quickly back to our running routines. Frigid weather came on the heels of these storms. Our sidewalks and trails still have residual snow and ice pack along them. While running the other night, looking at my watch brought consistent frustration as my per-mile pace was below what I prefer. I then reminded myself that I was dodging and slowing down frequently for snow and ice patches.

This is not to dissuade anyone from aiming for a spring race. Rather, it’s to point out that there could be a number of factors that impact your training and that if you do choose a significant spring race, to roll with them.

If you’re training for a marathon and an impending snowstorm is forecast to collide with your long run, consider moving it up a day. It’s not likely to clobber your schedule (though you do want to consult the plan you’ve chosen) and you can still get the run in. You can have a similar approach for shorter race preparation if you had a key speed workout that would fall on a snow day.

If you’re uncomfortable switching the day, consider a shorter route that you can repeat near your house. One contingency plan I made for the virtual marathon this past fall was that if the weather had been crummy, I would run loops in my neighborhood so I could switch out socks and clothes quickly if needed. Or, if you feel that being close to your home would make it too tempting to call it off early, consider carrying an extra dry hat and other clothes in a small backpack or drawstring bag. It can feel burdensome but the times I’ve used one in snowy conditions, when I needed dry gear, I had it.

When you’re training in wintry conditions, it’s likely that your pace will be slower. That’s something of a “duh” statement but it’s important to keep in mind, which can reduce the frustration. Also, you’re still logging the miles and if you’re training for a longer distance, you may be on your feet longer which can help you on race day.

There are benefits to winter training, too. Slogging it out through some nasty stuff between December and March will give your mental fortitude a boost. Some people enjoy having running paths and trails to themselves and on nasty weather days, far fewer runners are out on them.

If you’re going for a key spring race, it’s often a good time of year as the weather is likely to be decent and it serves as a reward after months of winter training. It just requires a little physical and mental flexibility.

This past Wednesday, I had hoped to go to my local run club but in the mid-afternoon, heavy snow started coming down and it became apparent that getting to the store where we meet would be a challenge. Along with the snow, the temperatures were frigid. At 3:45 it was twelve degrees and forecast to go down from there.

I texted a friend of mine and we agreed to run to a lake close to our houses to do some loops there. I figured we’d keep it short due to the conditions but when I got home, I’d logged nine miles. Time flies when you’re having fun.

A few years ago, I mentioned that I use YakTrax when running in slick conditions and they continue to work well. While I still need to exercise some care and they don’t allow me to take off at a dead sprint or even run at a fast clip, they do help keep me upright. The only times I started to lose footing were the occasional ice patch or if I was on a slight slope. In those cases, if I slowed down all was well. The only downside is that while they’re excellent on snow, if you hit any concrete or asphalt surfaces, you definitely feel the impact on your legs. I prefer to use them if I’m sure that the vast majority of the run will be on snow or ice. The latter is also hard but I’ll take the impact over falling.

I also continued to appreciate the durability of my heavy pullover. Unfortunately, I can’t point to a website where it’s for sale because it appears that the manufacturer no longer exists. I bought the pullover in the fall of 1998 while training for the Columbus Marathon. While I don’t use it exclusively throughout the winter, I do wear it quite a bit and twenty-three years later, it is going strong. In fact, unless it’s in the low teens or colder, I can get away with just a short sleeve shirt underneath it. The brand name is Tri-Fit and at least for that product, they hit a grand slam. (I did find a company called Tri-Fit but it was formed in 2013 so I don’t think it’s the same one.)

Mentioning a jacket from a company that isn’t around any longer doesn’t help anyone in their search for solid winter gear. However, it is a reminder to hold onto good gear. Some will wear out or it may be that new technology dictates a replacement. If it doesn’t, don’t ditch it.

I reviewed my Nathan visibility light earlier this year. This can serve as a re-endorsement. I used it that night for the full nine miles and while it was six degrees and the light was partially caked with snow when I cruised back into my driveway, it was still blinking.

I’ve not posted regular running food reviews for a while but I did try a new gel recently, Gatorade Endurance. The one I had was strawberry and included caffeine. When I used it, I felt pretty good even though I’d done a decently fast six-miler the prior day. The taste was fine and it didn’t cause any GI disruptions so I was pleased.

On a related note, Honey Stinger’s gels used to be fairly thick. However, I ended up with a few packs recently and when using them, I noticed they’re much thinner and easier to take down than before.

While Gu is still my go-to gel for any critical long run or race, knowing these others work, especially if they’re being handed out during an event, is useful.

A few days ago, someone asked me what my favorite race was during this past year. I tend to look at accomplishments on their own and not within the context of a year or a season. Not having considered my races in an annual kind of framework, I was unprepared to answer. However, I racked my brain and realized that with the build-up for the marathon this past fall, followed by a few shorter races since that time, I’d mostly forgotten the ten-mile race I ran in June. In my quick analysis, I realized that was probably my best one since I met my optimal goal time for it and my pacing and strategy were solid. While I don’t foresee my view on best races changing because of this question, I appreciated that it helped bring a good race back to the surface.

I suspect my next official race will be sometime in the spring. Where we live, winter can be mild and spring can be wintry but if I’m paying for a race, I prefer for the conditions to be good for a fast time and I’ll take my odds on the warmer part of the year. At this point, I’m most likely looking at 5Ks and 10Ks for the coming year, with perhaps another ten-miler in there. In the meantime, I’ll keep preparing and logging miles.

I’ve written on making schedule adjustments to handle running and training during the busier holiday season. While we’re not quite back to pre-COVID holiday gatherings and activities, we’re also not as scaled back as we were in December 2020. I’ve included two links (2018 and 2020) to tips from prior posts.

On a somewhat related note, with less sunlight during this part of the year, you may find yourself running in the dark more frequently. This morning, I was out before sunrise picking up a box of donuts. A couple of runners were on a sidewalk along the road I was driving on and had headlamps, making them very easy to see. This is good for them, and for drivers around them.

There are plenty of ways to make yourself visible. Running headlamps are available and tend to be lightweight. Also, you can get inexpensive headlamps at places like Home Depot. While they can be bulkier than running-specific ones, for shorter runs they’re fine. I also carry a second light, normally a small flashlight, in case the batteries run out on the headlamp. The other benefit with a second light is that if you’re on a particularly busy street, you can have both of them on to make yourself extra visible.

There are plenty of reflective clothes and light-up vests to choose from on the market. These are an easy and built-in way to improve the chances of being seen. I also have a small blinking light that I can clip on the back of any shirt or jacket. The brand I have is Nathan and it’s $10. The one thing to watch out for is to make sure it’s secured and that if you go to adjust your collar or a hat, that it doesn’t fall off. I lost one in a pretty good snowstorm last year and as the white stuff was piling up, running back along my route to try and find it would have been futile.

Making yourself visible isn’t too hard and not only is it appreciated by everyone else on the road or trail, it’s safer for you, too.

Enjoy the countdown to 2022.

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…