Vigilante Mile 5K

The weather report for this weekend predicted the cold rain and snow.  I was supposed to be in Missoula, but ended up staying in Helena, which probably is for the better.  On Tuesday, I did a track workout, which always feels strange.  The problem with doing Yasso 800s in Helena is that the wind was blustery, so it always felt fast heading down the track, and a battle to come back up.

This morning, it was sub-40, and there was a nice light rain coming down.  I got up, threw on the Trail Gloves, dug out the Brooks Running overshirt, and wore the long sleeves from Spokane.  I ended up having to grab the water bottle waist doohickey just so that I would have somewhere to put the keys and the fob.  Yes, my fellow residents gladly trade liberty for the illusion of security, which really angers me when I’m busy being their physical superior.  I run up to the Capitol building, run into Roberta (hurrah for knowing people), and wait for the race to start.  No swag for this one, but it does support the Montana Historical Society, and has an ‘interesting and well marked course.’

We start behind the Capitol building, and head eastbound.  I’m familiar with this from my time at work.  I get jammed up a little bit, by one runner with an odd technique and behind a pair of kiddies.  I actually start to get annoyed with the kids, since they are running side by side, and getting in my way.  I end up fartleking them with some fast running and slow down, and they still keep pace.  They only do it for half a mile, but I was glad to get past the kids and get on my own pace and space.

After getting away from the kids, I get to run at my natural pace, and see the runner with the strange technique ahead.  I’m fairly content to be behind him, and not really in the mood to try and run too hard, since I don’t know the course.  The course was interesting, including curb running, and running across fields to get to a track.  We head out towards Smith school and onto the quarter mile dirt track.  The only downside is that track (rocky track) is really tough on the Trail Gloves.

About halfway around the track, a guy in a black Brooks coat comes flying by me.  I’m not sure where he got his second wind, since he had a lot of speed.  I just kept pace heading back toward the Capitol building.  Once we hit Montana, we did get a nice little elevation challenge toward the Capitol building.

I’d already decided that I didn’t have it in me to run another mile before I started this, and I felt better about that decision afterward.  I probably would have another mile on a weekend with fresh legs, but this was mostly about keeping up after doing the Marathon, not about setting new records.

Overall: 23:53, middle of the pack. 5 kilometers of fun.

Windermere Marathon Review

So, on Saturday, May 19, I wore the standard race gear, and ran 42.2 kilometers in 4:37:57. Yeah, it’s long.

We headed out from Helena to Missoula (the land of hope and dreams) on Friday. After getting into Missoula later than expected, we headed toward Spokane, and arrived later than we wanted to. We were staying with my awesome friend Catherine, so life was awesome. In our packets, I got a really cool jersey style shirt, a cool grocery bag, and another sweet beer coaster for the Missoula Marathon. At the last moments, I found out that Don was downgrading, so I would be running this one solo.

For some reason, this marathon turned into a mental battle. On the way from the bus toward Post Falls, I started to realize how crazy I was to run this insanely long race. After all, I’m coming off of a nasty 30K from last weekend. On the other hand, as I often remind myself, there’s nothing to do but get ready and run for the next four hours.

So, I got ready, and got to wait around Post Falls industrial park for half an hour. There were plenty of honey buckets, including a special ‘men’s room’ that had no lines. God bless the port-a-urinal!

The thing about running a marathon is that marathon runners tend to be a talkative sort, and Montanans are just naturally talkative. I got a chance to ask Amy Biviano about Spokane’s political situation (she's running for state representative, and you should vote for her, if you live in Spokane Valley), I talked with a man from Spokane doing his first race, I talked with one of the race sponsors. I felt strange, because everyone seemed to know the course marshals except for me. I was like the new kid in a John Hughes marathon.

We start in Post Falls industrial park, and head east, to get the required distance. The start is chaotic (as usual), but fun. My goal was to start slow and steady, and rock the course. I start slow, and get moving super fast on the downhill part of the course. Once we get heading west, I notice a huge billboard for Showgirls, the Northwest's Premier Gentleman's Club. I thought perhaps the smart people were there, rather than running a silly long race.

Anyway, I spend the first two miles jostling around and trying to find pace. I love crossing over the river into Washington, over an absolutely beautiful bridge. There's a good deal of roll in the first part of the course, but the weather is still reasonably cool. We head down toward Spokane. I skip the first water / Heed station, and enjoy talking and pacing with Darrel. Yep, the start of the race is strong and steady, just the way that I like. The course parallels the river, and I see a flock of Canada Geese flying over the water. There's some amazing irises growing along the way.

I keep a steady slightly over 9:00 pace heading for the first part of the marathon. I feel good and steady for the first ten miles. Then, between mile 10 and 11, the wheels come off. I go from easily running at 9:00 per mile to struggling to run 10:00 per mile. I have to walk the slightest uphill. The only explanation is that I was worn out from running the 30K last weekend and doing the nasty 10K Rodney Ridge run on Wednesday. Yeah, I ran too hard, and overdid it. So, all I had ahead of me was sixteen miles of hard and heavy running.

I trudge toward the spot where the full marathon and half marathon come together. I see a lady run by me, and I congratulate her, only to have her turn around and ask where the relay is. Yeah, I am annoyed by relayers. I actually am more annoyed by the high school relayants who passed me after Argonne.

When the full and the half meet up, a great sense that I actually might be able to finish this event. The rule for finishing marathons is that one should not worry about time, or honor, or pain, but merely to continue forward. And, so, with legs of pure jelly, I head onward toward the finish line, with distances counting down, rather than up.

At the 10K point, Catherine joins up with me as a pacer. It's nice to have someone to keep my mind away from the pain and frustration. She leaves me at the four mile to go mark, but Don comes back and pulls me to the finish line.

The strange thing about it all is how surreal running a marathon is. I didn't get anywhere near my sub-four goal. On the way back from Spokane, I talked with Don about how running Rodney Ridge with a bunch of hardcore old men on Wednesday didn't help. Yet, I finished what I set out to do this past week. That's the point, to finish.

Prickly Pear Land Trust Don’t Fence Me In Review

Gal at food table: ‘Did you have fun?’
Me, after having run 19.02 miles with 6092 feet of elevation gain in 3:52:29: ‘No’
Annoying blond with hipster boyfriend who doesn’t know when she’s being talked to: ‘While, I had fun.’
Me: ‘What race did you do?’
Still annoying skinny little blond, who doesn’t realize that I have zero tolerance for her kind under the best of circumstances, and these are not those circumstances (in singsong happy voice): ‘I did the 12K’
Me: ‘I did the 30K’

So, last Tuesday, I got the bright idea to scout the trail.  I know the Mount Ascension part of the run really well, along with the Rodney Ridge sections.  Rather than try to figure out the Wakina Sky part, I decide to head south and over the ridge past the Springhill Stables.  On the upside, I discovered that the Nathan Hydration pack really does work as well as advertised, and that I really do like Hammer gel.  Hammer gel is absolutely awesome, and I will say so until someone decides to send me some better gear, or until Google starts realizing that I abuse the Googlesense rankings.  I do this run in 70 degree weather (six days after it snowed) and with blisters from a run on Friday (for the record, Fila, and all associated products, are terrible and should be worn by no one.  If Fila wants to argue, send Codeine pills to deal with blisters, and I’ll try miserable Fila products again).  So, I do the run.  A good 20 klicks in three hours.  By the end, I’m falling apart.  I get home, proceed to deal with leg cramps and blisters aggravated (but not caused) but way too much effort in way too short a time.  I finally get the bight idea to hit up some Hammer Endurolytes, which slow down the cramping, and allow me to get to sleep.

I go into a Saturday morning with nasty blisters on both feet, and a left leg cramped up from too much running and not enough salt.  Water is easy for me to find, but salt is much harder, since I don’t get salty.  So, my goal, which is perfectly fine, is to finish this thing.  I know I’ll be doing an easy 26.2 next weekend in Spokane, and I’m faster than the thousands of Helenans sound asleep in their beds.  Packet pickup is race day (boo), over at the Library.  I get a cotton t-shirt, a cool mini-bay (I could put booze in it!), a Hammer gel, a Clif bar, and some ads for various events when I’ve already got plans.

So, we start over by the section 8 housing development, and run on the roads until we hit the Eagle Scout trailhead.  I’ve got a brilliant and secret plan.  First, I’m already feeling shot, so I know I’ve got no chance of qualifying for Western States on this one.  Second, I know how insanely long this course is, and that there are six major uphill sections.  Third, I’m having too much fun.  So, I lope to the trailhead, and powerhike all the way to the cutoff where we hit the North loop of Ascension.  I’m talking with the old men, letting people pass me, and have a huge smile.  I also realize that the distance markers (including 3) are not mile markers, but modern metric distance markers.  By the time of the cutoff, I manage to pass a few of the horses ahead of me, including a few on the uphill part.  As we swing onto the North slope, I get a chance to start talking with a cool couple doing the race.  By the time I hit the summit, I’m actually feeling really good, and ready to shoot through the saddle.  Nonetheless, I hold back, wait for the real summit, and then start to hammer out the downhill.

Downhill running is an art, and one that will ruin anyone unfamiliar with it.  There’s not a whole lot of technique to running uphill, but downhill requires skill, and also requires a decent amount of leg strength.  I pass about ten people on the easy downhill, and then really start flying on the lower part of the Entertainment trail.  This is actually where I nearly got into a few collisions, as there were people who weren’t letting the faster people pass, or even move aside to do a pass.  After jamming past 20 people in a series of conga lines, I finally slow it down as we approach Davis Gulch.  I be sure to tell people that they’ll be passing me on the next uphill section, and try to maintain politeness.

After we cross the road, we head over the Rodney Ridge section.  At this point, the race starts to spread out, and I start passing and being passed by the same people.  I made the very smart decision to only race with a single bud, so I could head everyone perfectly.  I powerhike up the meadow, and then fly down the trail toward Orofino Gulch.  This is a really nice section, because there is just enough angle to get moving fast and not enough to have to fight gravity.  After this, I hit Orofino Gulch, which involves running up (yes, up is a direction, and a type of hill) for a few klicks before hitting the first aid station.  I see Martin (and, yes, as in all races, the volunteers get an awesome rating.  Y’all rock!) and slam two cups of Heed, and replace the Hammer Gel that I took on the uphill.  I also do a good job of hitting those Endurolyte capsules, which is nice (when I get home, I can see the salt crusted on my face).  We head into Wakina Sky, which has always been a mystery.  There’s not a lot of car access, and it’s the most confusing patchwork of public lands, private lands, and trail easements in the south hills system.  I hit the uphill part slow and steady, and get to move out a bit more in the meadow part.  Someone thankfully left some oranges at the junction, which I parttake of.  Yeah, I’m known for eating just about anything someone hands me on the trail.  We junction out, head down far too fast for my taste, and come back before heading down and over to Grizzly Gulch.  It’s an odd part of the trail, because I actually lose eye contact on the next runner for this section, and feel entirely on my own.  That’s not a bad thing, although since the trail is windy, and I don’t know this area, I would like someone to follow.  Eventually we break through (and even get to cross a bridge) and onto Grizzly Gulch.  I go down the road (or at least less uphill, I’m convinced that Grizzly Gulch goes uphill both ways), head up the Mini Gulch trail and see the second aid station.  Yep, there are 30K and two aid stations.  Good thing that I’ve got the awesome Nathan, and at least that’s as many aid stations with gel that I encountered on the Missoula marathon.  I grab another gel to be hit on the uphill.  After about 20 minutes and 700 feet of uphill (the Garmin don’t lie), I end up on the Mount Helena Ridgeline trail.  I know exactly where I am, and a great sense finally comes over me.  22 klicks into the race, I am tired and weary, but I know how to get from here to the end, I know what is involved in that, I know where to go slow and where to go fast.  I say goodbye to the fine people I hiked uphill with, and hello to speed and familiarity.

I enjoy most of my run down the ridgeline, and get to do some more fine passing.  I enjoy it all the way until I get to the last stretch of the West End trail, where I managed to catch a rock in the trail with my right leg, and sprawl to the ground.  My hands are bleeding from the force of the impact, and my right foot is feeling it in a really bad way.  My toes feel like the nails came off.  So, I can either figure out how bad a condition I am in, or take advantage of the fact that I know that I’m close to the end of this, and just go forward.  I verify that there’s no one behind me, and start heading toward the very last part of the race.

However, before the race is over, I get to climb to the very top of Mount Helena.  It’s another few hundred feet of climb, and there’s nothing else to do.  So, I drag myself to the top of the mountain.  I then brace myself for 1300 feet of decent in two miles.  This is the worst part of the race by far.  One runner manages to fly by me on the Prospect Shafts, and I have no idea how he manages to do it.  I manage the last two miles in twenty minutes, although my knees are absolutely killing me (by the way, RD, if you want to switch to 1906 for the last leg down next year, it will be greatly welcomed).  I stagger and roll across the finish line, where I find the food tent, and one very annoying and skinny little blond, who finished 18K behind me.  I knew I was in bad shape when the gals from Hellz Bellz comment about how beat up I look.  I stagger to Taco Del Sol and enjoy an awesome extra large veggie burrito.  I check my finish time online later (nothing the Garmin didn’t tell me) and discover that I’m still in the age group of annoying sponsored college kids.  But, I did finish 18K ahead of the blond, and 30K ahead of most of Helena, so I’m not complaining.

In the end, I’m only missing the beat up end part of my big toenail.  There’s a bunch of strange black, and I’m not sure when I’ll be easily flexing them.  On the upside, I learned the following things:
I can handle long runs.  I can handle the 50K, and I can train and handle the 50 miler in October.  I’ve got the strategy to survive it.
Starting slow is a great idea.  It wasn’t the slow start that kept me from finishing faster, it’s the blisters and beat up from Tuesday.  And, for the record, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Keep an earbud out.  Your fellow runners are more interesting anyway.

So, one week of resting, and then a good run in Spokane.  I’m measuring that at 42.19 kilometers anyway.

Forced To Run

I got asked how I got into the trail running thing.  I suppose there should be a story about how I read Born To Run and found it the most inspiring thing ever.  I should talk about how I felt kinship with the natives, how I learned about the importance of forefoot form, and how I want to become a vegan who drinks far less.
However, the real story is probably more interesting and yet less interesting.  I work in the Capitol complex, which is about 1.5 miles from my domicile, taking the streets.  Even before I started running, I had the habit of taking long hikes home from work through the mountains to the south of town.  It just felt good to be outside during the summertime, and was convenient to take the long way home.
The problem with living where I do is that there is one direction from where I live, up.  Anyone who lives on a street with the name Gulch will sympathize.  Also, I live in downtown, which means a lot of traffic crossings, and Helena is not friendly for runners.  Something about seeing the human form expressing it’s beauty really riles up the rednecks in their big trucks, whose last fast movement involved gulping down pisswater beer.
Initially, I started running up sections of Mount Helena.  The big myth about Mount Helena is that one starts at the parking lot, hikes hard to the H, and heads back down full of braggadocio about the accomplishment.  The problem is that Mount Helena is 1200 feet tall, and that manages to miss both the first 400 and last 400 feet.  So, I started running from my place halfway up the mountain (where the trails would lead back down) and getting into that.  I liked being out on the trail, and not dealing with traffic.  The downside was dealing with piles of bad behaving afternoon hikers and their bad behaving dogs’ piles.  Plus, although there was plenty of trail, there was the issue of dealing with traffic coming to an fro the trail.
So, I leaned how to power over nine and a half miles and twenty five hundred feet of elevation gain.  The best part about trail running is that one feels the ebb and flow of the uphill.  One feels like the king of the mountain, not even catchable by bicycle.  It’s an amazing place to be.

Montana Warrior Run

 So, I'm supposed to talk about the races. Well, since I write the reviews, and these are more important weekend reviews, you all get to read about a ton of random banter as well. I saw Pakistani singer Arif Lohar, backed by Arooj Aftab, on Thursday night. It was all manner of piles of awesome. On Friday, I went to the gun show in Helena (as opposed to the gun show in two weeks, or the gun show in a town near Helena) before going to a rodeo. After the rodeo, I decided that I'd need to get up nice and early in the morning, so I could totally rock the Montana Warrior Race.

So, I'm doing a 10K, then a 5K, then a 1 miler for this race. The 10K is supposed to start at 8:45. However, I get there at 8:25, and I'm told '10Ks and trifectas to the front of the line.' So, I wait in the shorter line. I get to the front, and they say, race day registrations only. So, I have to spend another five minutes waiting in the pre-registration line, while there is no line for race day registrations. Yes, for positive behavior, like registering in advance, I get a major negative consequence, which is waiting in line. Not only that, but the line moves slowly while people spend time contemplating decisions that they should have made when they filled out their pre-registration. Once I get to the front, I say 'Custis, Cody; trifecta; men's large; thank you' and get on with my very important business. So, because the lines are ineptly run, I don't have time to take care of personal business, don't have time to head back to the rig and grab the Nathan bottle and belt carrier. I go wait for the race start, which happens ten minutes late. My mom ended up registering for the 10K, which is a bit unexpected. Swag is a sport-tek t-shirt (which I put on over my current shirt, since I wore little and it is colder than expected) and a race chip / number. The race does use the cool shoe tag.

For the 10K, we run out and back to Ft. Harrison, which is actually a pretty cool route. We head out and down across Henderson, which is tricky because there's fast decent and ascent of about fifteen feet. Once we get out to Jocelyn, we head slightly uphill, until we get on a county road towards the fort. There's moderate traffic control, but we still end up alongside the road. The upside is that there's decent spectator turnout. The downside is that my iPod decides to go crazy, and so I spend the entire race listening to fits and starts and being annoyed. Anyway, I be sure to give the spectators plenty of high fives and shouts, along with the race volunteers. Yeah, I'm like that. After the fort, we head back. There isn't much positional jostling, I do manage to make a great push at the end. Like most Montana courses, it isn't hilly, but it is never flat.

Vital Stats: 6.05mi, 46:25, 486 gain and 470 decent.

After the race, I head over to the school to do some important personal business, after grabbing a water and bagels from the food table. By the time I get done with the business, and back to the race area, it is supposed to start. I do get the iPod fixed, which makes me happy. We end up starting the 5K about eight minutes late, but there isn't much to do. Fellow races are more unhappy about situation of waiting and starting times. I must agree. If there's a fixed schedule between races, racers are entitled to give rest breaks. I do see my friend Victoria doing the 5K, which gets massive sweetness points.

The 5K is a loop around the neighborhoods near Capital high. It's actually more flat than the 10K. Last year, I got jammed at the starting line, but, since I paid more, I get off starting line and into pace real fast. There's a few teenagers doing the starting line flameout, but it's otherwise the same crew from the 10K. I do notice that the college students have set out a table full of beer for the runners, but I decide that beating Scott (which I do not do, but I do keep it close) is more important than drinking on a 5K. On a half marathon, I have better priorities. Anyway, I run this one strong, and finish with a time that makes me happy. On a related note, I hear from a fellow runner that the college students that I high fived out toward Fort Harrison were swooning over my hair. Maybe I need to find Lucy race volunteer?

Vital stats: 3.14mi, 23:37.75, 295 ascent / 293 descent (yet, I feel that not)

So, the race participants are grumbling about starting times, and the timer insulted my mother. I was about to get real ornery (one of the consequences of making my mother cry is that I will do things to do that will make your mother cry once she sees the results on those things), but it turns out the guy is just an ignorant, slow-witted, inconsiderate jerk. So, I don't have to do anything bad to him. After waiting way too long, the third leg finally starts at 11:22 (twenty minutes late).

The main thing about doing one mile is that I am not used to it. I start slow, find a pace, start passing people. I'm good at getting a slow start, and rocking once I figure out what I am doing. For a mile, I am completely confused. Anyway, I run way too fast at the beginning, and really don't have any kick at the end. I do see some kids playing Quiddich in the corner of the park, which does make my day.

Vital stats: 1.00mi, 7:20:35, 87 feet ascent / 92 feet descent.

My mom summed up this one best 'it's not bad, but it's not worth traveling for.' For some reason, the race was a lot more fun last year. It also seems to have better attendance (or maybe I wasn't too busy running past everyone). I'm really hesitant to recommend this one, especially as there are more interesting races elsewhere in the state on the same day. Last year, it was a lot of fun, but just didn't have a whole lot of try this year. Yes, I know I cannot blame the volunteers, but I must blame the RD when badly designed packet pickup creates problems.

I meant to follow this up with some time at the range, but had other things that needed to be done. I did see Kevin Koutnik (whose new album is awesome), and hung out gaming from 4 until late. At that point, I staggered back to home, figured out how to work the annoying fob thing, and slept.

King Of The Mountain

The roads are ruled by beasts of steel and iron, creations of engineers, fueled by the bones of dinosaurs. There is no skill or honor in their activity, only a need to get from one place where nothing happens to another place where nothing happens.

Paths are rules by cyclists, whose power rules a different beast of steel and iron. Like levers, they amplify the power of man, beyond that which man would be capable of. Yet, the amplification comes at a cost. The cycle gains great power on the flat, at the cost of maneuverability and contact. On the incline, the cyclist suffers upward, and few enough can control their descent downward.

Trail is where the runner is king on the mountain. The runner propels up the trail with the mechanical advantage, the ground rising to meet each bound. The runner hugs the tight turns and switchbacks, avoiding the rocks and trees. Downward, the runner uses gravity to augment the power of man, power earned not through the dead or through metal, but through work. Like an elastic band, the runner springs back downward, using potential energy to the fullest potential.

The wide and flat belongs to beasts of steel and iron, but the mountains and paths belong to the running king!

Spring Fitness 2012 - Goals

Through a variety of random reasons, I became the captain of my Spring Fitness team. It's eight weeks, and a diverse crew, everyone from marathons and distance cyclists, to people just getting into fitness.

As hard (or maybe easy) as it is to believe, I didn't really start running until roughly this time last year. Actually, I know I started sometime around spring break. The reason why I started it, and why I kept it up, was that I knew that I was signed up to do 13.1 miles out in Spokane, and didn't want to let my friends down, or be physically unable to handle it. After all, most people think of a half-marathon as a major goal. Of course, after I did it, I decided to go big or go home, and signed up for the Missoula marathon, and had the brilliant goal of doing a second marathon, which I highly recommend as motivation.

So, back to the goal at hand, what is a good, and what is a bad, set of goals for eight weeks of fitness?

An easy goal is to up activity by 1,000 step-equivalents per day. This should burn through a grand total of 100 calories, depending on weight. However, I have a real hard time thinking about what 100 calories actually represents. 100 calories represents 2/3 of a can on Cola-Cola, or a quarter of a Big Mac. So, two miles equals one Big Mac. Still, it's amazingly easy to add in more mileage. Park further away, take the long way to the bathroom, rather than the close way, or else take the stairs, rather than those creepy elevators.

Another good goal is to pick an event of suitable impressiveness, and sign up to do it. The upside of signing up for a race is that not only does one acquire another shirt made of magical-moisture wicking material, there's also a very public declaration that one will be able to do whatever physical task is required on that day. I'm not sure that everyone is ready to handle a 30K trail run, but anyone can handle a 5K or 10K.

A bad goal is to lose weight. Why is this a bad goal? First, the easy way to lighten the scale is to simply weigh in early in the morning, before you get a chance to rehydrate after the evening. Second, muscle weights more than fat. As one increases muscle, one actually will gain weight, or hold steady, rather than lose weight. Waistline loss is legitimate, being lighter on a scale is pointless.

I'll talk about some diet advice in the next iteration. I'd recommend finding a good goal to be ready to go when May rolls around, and let your friends know. Backing out of the 13.1 miles is easy when you are the only one who knows it, it becomes a lot harder knowing you'll have to explain why, rather than how interesting it was!