Paying it Forward (while being torched at Torchlight)

I ran the Torchlight 5k earlier this week in downtown Minneapolis. This event wasn't about me trying to blast through a fast paced race, it was about paying it forward. I love running, have for more than three decades now. And I love sharing that passion with others, whether it's during a morning training run with experienced runners, or it's chatting during a brown bag lunch Q & A session with co-workers. The latter, which took place a couple of months ago, gave me an opportunity to invite more folks into our world, encourage them to stick with it, and to aim for an event together. I hope that I was able to convey my enthusiasm and sense of personal satisfaction to them, as well as to answer their many questions about training, injuries, gear, and how to do their first-ever race. (Quick note: not all of them were first-timers exactly, but racing wasn't a habit for any as of yet)

In the weeks that followed, we all planned to run the Torchlight as Team MIA. Unfortunately, it was a steamy, hot, humid night - I was a bit worried about my teammates, but tried to share some common wisdom during the day (hydrate, slow down, etc.). It was really hot out there, and I know that I backed off any ideas of "racing" and just tried to run a steady tempo pace (even then I was fading a bit during the last mile). Luckily, everyone on the team made it through the event and finished smiling (and sweating)!. Results, although the website with the results seems to be offline intermittently. I enthusiastically high-fived them all, feeling proud of them, but also soaking up their own sense of accomplishment. I've run nearly 750 races in my career, and I suppose it would be easy to take them for granted now ... but sharing the experience with runners who are relatively new to the whole concept can re-invigorate you, help you remember what it was like the first time you entered a race and finished it. Very cool. Here we are, on our feet and sharing the feeling.

George Sheehan said, "The difference between a jogger and a runner is an entry blank." While that may be an oversimplification, what I like about the quote is that it sets an achievable goal and shows the world that our sport is welcoming to anyone who is interested. We're all in this together guys, even though we all face our own internal demons that threaten to hold us back, make us give up, and glue us to the couch. We battle those demons alone, ultimately, but during the battle it's sure nice to know that we've got allies all around us.

Keep up the good running all, and remember to welcome everyone, always.

The (Sour) Grapes of Wrath

Race Report: Sour Grapes Half Marathon trail race

I took the long-ish drive up to Brainerd, MN this past Saturday morning (2+ hours) to run the 5th race in the UMTR Trail Series in the Northland Arboretum. Theme of the day was the heat: relentless sun, and temperatures headed toward the 90s, with a dash of humidity just for kicks. Probably not great weather to race 13.1 miles, but at least we'd be in the woods for most of the race, where we'd have slightly cooler temps and shade (thank goodness).

A few notes about the race itself: the course was a non-technical XC ski trail loop that we ran twice, after sharing the start with the "half-half" runners; that is, competitors doing only one loop (about 10.5 kilometers). Editorial aside: I don't like races that mix multiple distances together for any major portion and especially not at the start, it makes things confusing for everyone and you just don't know who you are actually racing - but maybe I'm in the minority on that front. The course had no single track at all (darn), rolling hills, a bit of sand at times, was fairly wide, had no roots/rocks/mud to speak of - although there were two very short sections that were soft underfoot, so I suppose if this race took place on a rainy day there could be some swampy bits. The course was very well-marked, and they cleverly placed an aid station right at a complex intersection that was used at least a couple of times each lap - very smart move. Thankfully in the hot conditions I was able to grab plenty of water during the race without carrying any myself. Race organizers and volunteers were all friendly folks, and there were quite a few spectators for a trail race. It was chip-timed, a bit slow to get to the awards ceremonies (but I know that can be a bit tricky when racers are covering 13+ miles at paces ranging from 6 minutes to over 11 minutes per mile). All in all, a nice venue and a race worth running, but don't get your hopes up for a difficult course requiring real trail-running technique, this is just another speedster's course (although the sandy sections would slow down even the fleetest of foot).

At the start, I let those speedsters fly off while I tried to settle into something in the "comfortably hard" effort range. I knew it was going to be a long day when the first couple of miles went by well over 7:00 minute per mile pace, but I was already huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf. It was probably the heat + humidity, and those two demons were simply variables to be dealt with on the day. I suspected those faster starters up ahead of me would be falling off their aggressive pace before too long, just because of conditions. I counted about 10 runners in front of me at about the half-mile mark, but then got passed by 2 more in the next half mile. No way to know if they were in my race or not, and way too early to fight it, so I let them go and focused on my own pacing and effort level.

There are many disadvantages to growing older. For example: you get slower, recovery takes longer, you lose that spring in your step, your elbow skin sags, etc. But there are a few advantages: experience, self-awareness, guile. I tried to use those to their full advantage on this day.

I started passing other runners by mile 4 (already?). The first two *seemed* to be running the 10k, judged by the intensity of their breathing and their unwillingness to let me pass. Both of them spit and sputtered and wheezed and battled me for at least 2 minutes before finally relenting. I made no attempt to surge or "race" them head-to-head, I just kept plugging along at the effort level I believed I could sustain. By mile 5 I'd gotten 3 more, one of whom was WALKING, and asked me to reassure him that he'd not missed the 10.5k turnoff. I told him he still had more than a mile to go, and trundled on.

Passing the finish area at the end of loop one, I had no idea what place I was in for the half-marathon. I could see only one runner who seemed to have just finished, maybe, and looking up ahead across the field there was no one in sight. I tried to pick up the pace on the second loop, but it was just too hot to maintain anything much faster than I was already doing. By the end of the race, my watch would say that I ran the second loop about one minute faster than the first, so I did manage negative splits, although not by much.

The second loop was a rather lonely slog for awhile, until I started passing the slowest of the 10.5k runners/walkers who had still not finished their first loop. However, with about 2 miles to go, suddenly there was a runner in front of me who looked to be struggling on a hot, sunny uphill. As I tried to muster at least a little bit of a surge, he suddenly started walking - heat will do that to you. As I passed, he offered a word of encouragement and I told him to hang in there. I started to feel the effects of the heat, sand, and pace at around 11.5 miles, and from there on out I was just doing my best to maintain form. I crossed the finish line and someone told me I was third place, which surprised me a bit - I didn't think I had passed that many runners, but then again some of them may have been in the 10.5k and others may have been dropped out or been walking along with the 10.5k walkers and thus I didn't notice them? Guess I'll never know for sure.

I kept dousing myself with water, but it was pretty hard to cool off. I decided to walk my cool down instead of jogging it, my legs were tired and I was already so over-heated. Back at the race site, I grabbed a few snacks offered by a friendly horde of volunteers, and waited for the awards. I did finish 3rd (results), although I was way behind the guys in first and second place. I'm pretty happy with it. I think I made some good choices on the day, hanging back and doling out my effort wisely while others used themselves up early and bombed out. Every now and then we old guys manage to play our cards pretty well, I suppose.

Now I'll await the updated Grand Prix results to see how things come together. I'd been tied for first overall, but only third in my age group, through some vagaries of scoring (that escape me) and the fact that the series is still not quite half complete. We'll see how the rest of the year goes. Thanks to the organizers, volunteers, and everyone else at Sour Grapes. You put on a great race. I'll come back next year for sure if you promise cold rain!