New Balance Minimus Trail Review

I've decided to branch out to the exciting world of gear reviews. So, all you awesome running companies, send me piles of junk and I'll figure out a way to review it, and I'll look cool wearing it. Plus, unlike those losers in the front of the race, I'm always cheering with spectators and waving to people, which is way more important than actually winning these events.

On a trip to my local gun store, I found the New Balance Minimus Trail in 10 on sale for around $79. I already had the Minimus Zero in 9.5, which I really liked, but had major problems with feet getting pounded and the top has started to come undone. Likewise, my year old Trail Gloves in 9 are nice, but I know that I really do need to move up to the 9.5 as a standard. I had already been wanting to consider something in a 10, mainly for doing longer races when I know the feet will expand.

The Minimus Trail has a lot more foot protection than either the Trail Glove or Zero. The Vibram outsole is hard, but there's otherwise minimal padding. I'm hoping that it will hit the rocks a bit better than the super soft options that I've been wearing to this point.

Likewise, the shoe has good heal to arch fit, which is what I've been looking for. I've realized that I'm going to need to allow for more toe splay on the longer runs, as the toes swell up over distance.

I took the Trails out for a road run last night, to start the breaking in process. I didn't get the usual sole beatings that I get with most minimal shoes, but still felt plenty of ground contact. My only real complaint is that there was a bit of slide around the left big toe that would have started to blister. I'm not sure how much of that is due to shoe newness, how much is due to sock newness, and how much is due to general foot wear and tear. I think I'll take blisters over sole beatings at this point.

I would recommend the Minimus Trail for people who want an introduction to low-padding running, but don't feel ready to feel the feet pounding of the more minimal cousins. Trust me, once you hit that first rock, you'll be glad to be wearing shoes with hard, rather than soft, sole.

Big Dipper Last Chance Half Marathon

I missed this one last year, and really ended up regretting it. I did a run up Great Falls way with the ever annoying Lucy Helena, whose favorite pasttime was making me late for races so I couldn't get stretched out properly, and arguing with me about what to wear for races. However, no such problems this time, as I get to pick up the packet at Tread Lightly, and get ready for the Big Dipper Last Chance Half Marathon. I see that the shirts are way cool Sporthill shirts (everyone is ordering those these days), and I get the standard Hammer Nutrition pamphlets. I also get another Hammer gel to add to my collection, which is currently flush with little gel packets to open up and goo out during races.

We start over at the edge of Le Grand Cannon, on the traily part. I see Scott is doing this race, and I'm talking with his friend Chris before it starts. As the race starts, I see Scott come running back toward the starting line. The RD decided to give us all a few early minutes, which caught Scott unprepared. I'm having a tricky time getting paced out on the starting part, especially as the trail is hammering my feet in the trail gloves. Those are the worst shoes for trying to tackle gravel. Big rocks they can handle (or I can avoid), but there's nothing to be done about those piles of killer little pebbles. I'm not feeling fast, but I am going fast. I'm a bit behind a triathlete who is doing a warm up half marathon. I also am behind two girls with hypnotizing ponytails on the Le Grand Cannon asphalt path. Y'all know me, I'm obsessed with hair.

We head down from the Le Grand Cannon trail into the mansion district, where I get to 'wooooooo' at the high school cross county volunteers. Y'all rock volunteers. There's some nasty up and downhilling, and some awesome aid stationing provided by Debbie's family. I'm still getting myself established before hitting Park.

Once we hit Park, the officer is nice enough to keep traffic stopped, and we begin a long uphill. There's a three mile steady hill climb past Unionville that we all know about, and get to deal with in our own ways. I keep at a steady pace, and slowly start passing through the pack. At some point, along Rodney Ridge, I remember passing someone at at 12:00 min / mile pace, which is normally going molasses speed. Yeah, there's nothing quite like slow speed passing, even when giving flatout effort. I eventually reach Unionville, where I start to run into the race leaders coming back from the turnaround. I like turnarounds, they remind me that I'm doing the same event as faster runners. Once we get past Unionville, I know that I've got roughly a mile to go before getting away from the uphill hell and back downhill. I see Scott at roughly a tenth of a mile from the turnaround, so I figure I might have a good shot hitting him on the downhill. I high five the volunteers at the turnaround, deal with the last part of the hill, and change gears for a downhill run.

As I'm hitting the downhill, I realize that I'm not going to pass anyone. Actually, I do pass one guy who was two gals for a support crew and is getting his photo taken. I'm not going to pass Scott, and that's all that matters. I end up getting passed by a gal who comes out of nowhere and is flying down the course as the course makes it way back to the city limits. I also get to deal with staying on course, which is hard when I'm used to running a section in a certain way. I manage to stumble my way across the finish line, which is cool, and actually feel good doing it,

Garmin stats: 13.10 miles, 1:55:15.97, 1552 feet ascent, 1727 feet descent

Zombie Escape Run Review

I have absolutely no idea how to classify a zombie escape run. There's not really anything cool for finishing first. In fact, it was part of my plan not to finish first, but then again, plans aren't that important.

The goal of the zombie escape run was to not get mauled by people dressed as zombies, which jogging through a 5k course. This is a major pain, as the zombies have been standing around, while I've been sprinting around. Nonetheless, I got dressed up, worse some flags, and spent five bucks to have some extra flags. We get to run around the fairgrounds.

There's some obstacles along the course, which were actually somewhat pointless. I think they existed mainly to keep the runners from getting in nice bunches, which would make it harder for the zombies to do their thing. I fondly remember seeing a fox after the first water station, which adds to the cool wildlife theory of running. Actually, the waterslide obstacle was cool, even if I am not that good at doing waterslides. There's something about taking big running leaps that is really hard, since runners are not usually natural leapers.

The one reason why this ended up being insanely difficult is that it was a combination of jogging and sprinting to avoid people trying to grab me, which actually does get old somewhere in the first two clicks. Being near the front of the pack is inviting trouble, and really gets to be a drag. I have to give respect to the other cool zombie who grabbed my flag from behind at the end of a section, right when I slowed down too soon. That was awesome.

So, anyway, I did the event, and it actually was pretty fun. I wouldn't brag about it being the most awesome 5k ever, still don't know what I feel about obstacle style racing (here's a hint, physical fitness isn't a prerequisite, and doesn't help to win) but found it a change-up from the usual racing. The trail series runners had to deal with a bear, so I'm taking coolness points for avoiding dealing with avoiding the bear.

August 18, 2012

An Ri Ra Race Review

An Ri Ra Race Review

I end up being forced to deal with getting my mom registered for this one, along with my own registration. Yes, nothing gets me riled up like people who expect me not only to pay for things that they do, but also to make sure that they get done, but I didn't do enough of a job to get out of this one. So, I get there nice and early, pick up packet (shirts aren't as cool as last year's, weaker design and fabric) and ask when the buses to the starting line leave. I'm told 8:30, so I don't take the time to take personal break and get otherwise prepared. We roll out at 9:00. No big deal.

The straight line from Emma Park to the starting line is less than a mile away. Unlike last year, we start a bit further back on the road, and get to hit the trail, rather than deal with a strange loop out. I like this aspect of the course, although it is a bit strange to start with an uphill. The course starts above Butte, goes past three or four headers along asphalt trail looping toward MT Tech, and actually jaunts around town and through downtown at the end. I talk with a guy about the Memphis Marathon (sounds cool, but it sells out way too early, since it's a wintertime marathon and registration was full when I checked) and settle myself near the back of the pack.

I had absolutely no idea how to situate myself for this race. I usually do well on downhill, but still had all the tired legs and sore feet from having done the 50k a week before. On the other hand, I always like getting races done with. I end up going hard on the initial downhill, and passing a bunch of people along the way. It ends up being tricky, just because the course is narrow and there is enough weave to make racing lines matter. I'm still feeling awesome when we hit Tech's campus, which is where the downhill really starts to level out.

I'm suffering the great problem of most races on tired legs, which is that I've got no power on the uphill sections. So, I'm really struggling to get uphill. On the other hand, I'm inspired by running alongside a cool guy with a double baby jogger. He's got bigger uphill / downhill swings than I do. We hit a huge uphill in downtown Butte, and I manage to crest it while still being alive. After that, the race course gets a bit tricky to follow (lots of turns at the last part, and traffic to deal with), and I end up getting passed by someone who looks young enough to be in my age group. I end up getting passed by a fresh legged Kenny Romaine, which does bother me. Punk youth and their fresh legs.

So, at the award ceremony, I get announced as finishing second overall, in the women's division. Yeah, something strange happened there. I check the final, final results, and see I managed to take second in my division, which probably won't be happening again for a long time, since I'm moving in the guys who know what they are doing, but still have to work age group. And, despite the great overall descent, it isn't enough to make this a fast course, just the easiest possible course in hilly Butte.

Garmin Stats: 6.11 mi, 46:05, ascent 404, descent 954 August 11, 2012

Elkhorn 50K Race Review

Doing a 50K is a new experience.  It’s a combination of heaven and hell, feelings of euphoria combined with misery.  The only way to get through one of these is to have determination, a long view, way too much training, an amazing support crew, and a lack of sanity.
The night before the race, I do the obligatory race check in / dinner / meeting about the course.  We follow orange tags to continue, make a version of a figure eight and head back.  I see a few familiar faces from HURL, and a few unfamilar faces who came in from out of state.  I’ve done the 23k component of the course (even seen coyotes at play for it), haven’t had a chance to do the rest of the course.  I end up not winning any unnecessary swag, had back to town, and head back to bed far too late for a 5:30 wake up call.  I’ve got stuff packed, including the reliable Vasque shoes, the Nathan water pack, and a bunch of Hammer Gels / Justin Peanut Butter packs.  I make a huge mistake, and decide not to put an extra pair of socks in my pack.  Next time, I’m going to carry another pair of socks, with negligible additional weight, but pounds of additional comfort when switching from a beat up pair to a new pair.  I’ve got the charged Garmin, and I’m otherwise ready enough.  I discover that my fat iPod touch does in fact, fit fine in the side of the Nathan pack.
My strategy is to do the initial ascent nice and slow, and then get everybody on the downhill.  We get there early in the morning, while it is still cold in Montana.  At 7:10, we are off, running up four miles of road.  Because I knew the course, I decide rather than fly up the fast part, I would hold back.  This was actually the best part of my strategy, and I was actually at the very back of the pack for a little while, talking with a cool runner who came up from Mississippi.  I started moving ahead of people even during the initial section, despite just hiking for the first four miles of road at about a 15:00 pace.  I caught up with Dave, and kept bouncing around with him until we hit the trailhead.  Coming up the trail, we passed a gal from North Carolina and enjoyed the switchbacking path.  Right after passing a pair of ladies, they commented about ‘how pretty the view is,’ which I had to take as a compliment.  Yep, even during a long race I’m having a good time.  I passed another gal with a ton of Skittles in her pack before hitting the nice downhill section of Casey Meadows.  When I’m running around the Meadows, I talk to the cool Albertan couple (in the sense of two people who know each other, since the male half of the couple was waiting for his wife to finish the 50 miler at the end) who comment on following my nice orange shirt.  I end up at the back of a conga line of four people at the creek crossing, but manage to get across the creek nice and dry.  At roughly the pinnacle of the first section, I move past the conga line, and run along with another cool local guy for awhile.  I’m feeling super good on the downhill, and manage to roar along until I hear the fastest of the 23kers coming up behind me.  Since I’m feeling the pull of the downhill, I roar into the aid station.  I’m feeling fine, grab some misc food (fig newtons are what I remember, along with pretzels) and move along toward Elk Park aid station.  I get the important idea to retighten the shoes and socks.
Heading up to Elk Park is a bunch of uphill power hiking across a few streams.  I manage to get myself wet but keep moving uphill strong.  I look on over, and think how this will be nice to head back down and even pass a few people going up.  I get wet on one of the stream crossings, also use the opportunity to wash the face and get the hat nice and wet.  Wetting the hat in streams along the way is a great trick.  The path up to Elk Park is mostly on the east side of the ridge, so I’m getting some sun exposure.  Also, after going a half an hour without seeing another human being, I decide to fire up the iPod, and listen to some classic ZZ Top.  ZZ Top is great for doing some good hiking, nice riffs.  I keep heading up, and hit the Elk Park aid station in style, where I talk in some more food, and have some experts tackle the water pack situation.  The aid station volunteers (along with the rest of the volunteers on this course) are an amazing bunch.  I take in some pretzels, but the watermelon is not yet ready.  Also, having someone else futz with the water pack while taking in food feels great.  I’m feeling ready to rock heading out of here and toward the Elk Park area.  I actually get in a bit of jog on the rolling downhill sections.  Once I get onto the road, I start to see large muddles of mud, and I see an awesome frog in the middle of one of the muddles.  I talk to the frog (who doesn’t talk back), run through some grass, above some grass, and manage not to see another human being for nearly an hour an a half, before running into a decent amount of the race field at the turnaround.  There’s a section of roughly 2.5k in and 2.5k out and back where everyone gets to see everyone else.
Once I hit the aid station, I make the decision to pull back the socks and shoes, and do a reapplication.  It helps a little bit with the blisters, which I’m starting to really feel.  In retrospect, I should have asked for help at the first aid station, and probably just gotten them duct taped.  Yes, next important lesson, apply duct tape to blister, and no longer worry about it.  Possibly apply duct tape to blister prone area before setting out, as it instantly bonds to skin creating a thick barrier to rubbing.
On the way back, I’m getting back into the zone when a guy yells, ‘hey, you’re going to wrong way’  so, I head back to the intersection, and follow him the right way.  I manage not to go the wrong way, which is a good thing.  I get to do a nasty (and seemingly endless), climb back up to Elk Park.  My legs are just aching through the mess, and I’m starting to do the hallucinatory thing.  It feels like it should level out, but it’s a major uphill hike of over 2k feet.  I guess it’s not so bad when I think of it being less than a klick.
I get to Elk Park.  Unfortunately, all that downhill I looked forward to has become difficult, as my ankles are not flexing anymore.  In addition, I’ve got blisters on the back part of my heel and my toenails are completely jammed.  So, I being a very long, slow, and painful descent back to the finish line.  I suspect I’ll end up getting left large toenail removed, along with the three largest right toenails.  Yeah, it’s a miracle that I’m still in the walking phase, but I’ve had them all come off before anyway.  I limp back to the finish line, in time that can be formally summed up as way too long, or all day.  But, even without a skinny little blond to deal with a the finish line, I can say that I’ve had fun.

So, there’s some great lessons.  First, the Vasque shoes showed great potential of being completely ruined by the end of the race, and are now retired, as they broke up during the race.  So, I’m probably buying a pair of special shoes for each of these long races and using them just to train for the race and a single long race.  I guess I got multiple marathons and a 30k out of the Vasques so they did properly get the hell beat out of them.  Second, socks are cheap and light, I should carry more of them in the Nathan pack.  Third, toebox matters, I get to get used to running with splayed toes.  I’m not used to it, but it beats heading out to the podiatrist to get toenails removed by professionals.

Rock and roll, debating doing the 50 miler next year!

The Famous Missoula Marathon

Last year, I did the whole marathon in Missoula. The first half of the race is peaceful (or boring), the second half is where the action is. There was a shortage of aid stations in the first half, the second half was surrounded by community members and full of calories. Since I had plans to do a 50k the weekend before, it made sense to just sign up for the famous Missoula Marathon (13.1 mile edition). Strangely enough, the full marathoners not only get cooler medals, but they also get cooler shirts which have no half mentioned anywhere on the shirt. Yes, I'm feeling some buyers remorse, although the real point of this was to get something in during July and then focus on getting trained for that upcoming Elkhorn 50k.

I get to Missoula later than expected, but still get packet picked up, and still get to check out David Boone at Ten Spoon, which is always a good thing. I'm a big fan of David's stylings, and get to enjoy some awesome wine, along with some awesome rain.

The plan was to wake-up for the race at 4:00 and get there early. I oversleep with the alarm set to silent mode (this is one annoying feature), but am fortunately woken up and manage to get to the race on time. I do end up struggling to set up the annoying hard chip that needs to be zip tied into the shoelaces. I'm really tempted to start just putting those in the Nathan packs, since they are such a pain to deal with, and I really care about lacing systems. I get downtown, get on bus, get to starting line, stretch out, wait for race to start.

I do the smart thing, and start at the back of the pack. Actually, that isn't quite so smart at Missoula. The event is large enough that I spend a lot of time pack weaving, including dealing with the super-annoying Galloway method runners. I have no object to using Galloway for personal training, but it goes against the spirit of racing, and makes life more difficult for fellow runners. I also get to deal with a few walkers who managed to weasel their way to the front of the course.

So, I spend the first three miles trying to weave through the pack. Actually, I spend the first two dealing with the mess, then I blow by the water station, completely ignoring it, and life is now good. One thing I learned in this race is that I'm getting really good at hitting the water stations. The trick is to only slow down a bit, bend the cup, and take a huge gulp. There's an art to it, which I figured out. Despite my water station skills, they still ended up being problematic, as fellow races would completely wreck pace ahead of me, beside me, and behind me at the many stations alongside the Missoula race course.

The other upside to Missoula is that Missoula has a lot of spectators. For someone who tends to high five everyone alongside the course, and toss out the famous 'wooo' this is a good thing. There's more spectators at Missoula than at the rest of the events I'll do this year, and the spectators are well spaced along the course, rather than clustered at the end. Missoula gets credit for this, because Missoula is good, and does good things.

Anyway, I start flying on the course once I get my bearings. My pace for the race was only 8:53 per mile, but that was a really strong 8:53, and I felt like I was getting faster and stronger, rather than slower, as the race went on. Since I had 3:45 of difference between gun and chip time, I knew that I was running people who had slower pace than me as I passed, which was a good feeling. The one difference between this and the other runs that I've done is that Missoula has enough people on course to always be in a crowd. Once I hit the University district, rather than the usual thinning of racers, the field actually became more crowded.

So, I guess I've got to say, I ran this one strong. The time probably would have been better if the legs hadn't been so busy in the last week, but I don't really care. It's my last race until the Elkhorns, and I'm feeling good going into it.

297

Cody Custis

Helena MT USA

3519

29

M

38

1:56:16.0

2:00:01.0

3:45.0

8:53/M

Elkhorn 23k Warmup

Running has always been about addiction.  There’s nothing logical about hurling the body over rocks, hills, and dales to just say its been done.  Yet, I still do it.
I ran into Dave at Alive at Five.  I’ve always liked Dave’s running style, which is about keeping a steady pace.  I still tend to over thunder at the beginning, and I pay for it down the line.  He asked if I wanted to do the Elkhorn 23k course with him on Saturday.  I had a few plans that I had been juggling, but I realized that I needed to do this to get used to distances before doing the 50k in August.  So, I agree. He asks what time we should leave.  I suggest that we leave the Women’s mural at 5:00.  Yep, I get to discover that it is possible to encounter 4:20 without the influence of drugs, just to get ready to go run 23 klicks.
I decide not to pack music, which was greatly wise.  We get to the parking area, and head up the road toward the trailhead.  There is an amazing view alongside the road, with all the green fields and forest, along with a bunch of no hunting signs, which are all in green.  The sun is barely up, and things are nice and cool.  The upside of running super early is that there is plenty of cool weather, and one doesn’t get overheated.  There’s a good upslope to the road, but not enough to switch from running to power hiking.  We hit the trailhead, and see a bunch of ugly shotgun shells.  I know that shooting is allowed on federal lands, but it still seems a good place to pick up the brass (or plastic or steel).  Plus, it’s littering, in a bad place to litter.  Go find some ugly BLM land, and leave the forest alone.
We head up the mountain, I manage to get the shoes wet, running through a stream that took over the path.  There’s a strange combination of running and power hiking here, along with many places where there just isn’t good traction.  We get up to the Casey Meadows.
As we are moving from cairn to cairn, and figuring out how to move over a path (trail does not describe what we were on), I see a coyote running across the trail ahead, chasing something.  We stop for a moment, and watch the coyote run.  It’s the closest I’ve even been to one, and the first time that I’ve ever seen one while out running.  It’s a very cool experience.
From the meadows, we continue to head up toward the top of the mountain.  It’s great to have Dave, because he keeps me honest.  My natural tendency is to sprint and trudge, he keeps me at a goodly pace moving up the mountain.
We eventually reach the top, and I realize that I cannot see my place, but I could if I lived in the valley.  Yet, looking out over Casey meadows, and down, I realize how amazing it is to see an entire watershed and the amazing valleys formed by erosion and uplift over the millenia.  So, we head on back down the mountain.  Near the bottom, we run into a bunch of the running group, which is cool.  Once we hit the road, we end up thundering back to the vehicles.  We get done around 9:00, and have a whole day to find new challenges and adventures.