In Which I Don’t Really Win Much But Am Still Happy: Tyranena Beer Run Half Marathon 2015

Post-Haunted Hustle with Kristi

Post-Haunted Hustle with Kristi

To preface this story, let me say that two weeks ago I did a local Middleton race called the Haunted Hustle. It wasn’t an “A” race, and though it was fun there didn’t seem to be much point in writing it up other than my friend/running companion, Kristi, getting to see her name in “print” here. Since it’s marginally relevant, I’ll just give the tl;dr version here: Hilly course, cool day, lots of costumes to look at, ran a 1:55:55.

That was, at the time, my fastest half of the season, although to be fair my other half was a trail race, and I also did a 20K in 1:50:xx, which is only about 4 seconds/mile slower. Anyway, since I’d signed up for the Tyranena race only two weeks later, my plan was to use the Haunted Hustle as a hard training run and then really race Tyranena hard, with the goal of running a faster time.

The races were only two weeks apart, so my training was unremarkable. The HH was on a Sunday; I ran 54.19 miles over the next week (October 26 to November 1), with one day off for swimming. That week included one day of dreadmill intervals and a 15-mile long run in the rain. The following week, November 2–7, I lifted legs on Monday, then hobbled through 8-milers Tuesday through Thursday and was completely off except aikido on Friday, for a total of 24.4 miles before the race. No taper, that’s me.

Running along the river in Philadelphia

This is getting dull; here’s a photo of where I went running in Philly a few weeks ago. Jealous?

Tyranena starts quite late—11:30. I got up early (well, okay, I got up at 7:30) to eat my pop tart, drink a small cup of coffee, and loiter around working on my novel until it was time to go pick up Kristi. Last year we hit real traffic on the beltline and it was very tense, so this year I actually left a bit early. And of course the beltline was empty. We arrived in Lake Mills, WI, about 40 minutes away, by 10:20 and picked up our packets, then stood around chatting for the next 40 minutes or so. At 11, I went out for a warm-up jog, just a mile out at a relaxed pace and then some telephone pole intervals on the way back. I got back with just enough time to find everyone, then jump in the line for the port-o-potties and lose them again. Oh well.

We took off at 11:30 and I fell pretty quickly into an 8:30 min/mi pace. Running with the crowd to break the wind, this definitely felt like a comfortable speed, and I decided to hold onto it as long as I could. A bit before the first mile marker, I bumped into Kristi again, but when she took off (aiming for a sub-1:50 race), I made the decision to let her go and try to stay with what I had. This proved to be a pretty good decision.

The hills on this course are all on the first half, with the biggest coming right around mile four. However, none of the hills is really too difficult; my Garmin clocked 248 ft of elevation gain, compared to 362 ft at the HH. Watching my watch on the uphills, my pace occasionally dipped as far as 8:45 or even 9:00 min/mi, but I always recovered on the downhill. At around mile 5.5, I took a gel, another big change from the HH when I didn’t have anything for the duration. I hit the 10k mark in 54:28, according to the chip, and the halfway point about two minutes later. Up through mile 8, everything went really well. Then I noticed the people I’d been pacing off were gradually moving away from me; I didn’t feel like I was slowing, but my watch was suddenly reading 9:00 for pace.

The Eastern State Penitentiary in Philly

The Eastern State Penitentiary in Philly; I’m just including this because it’s cool.

At this point, I made a very conscious decision to push the pace, to leave everything I could behind and do my best to finish in under 1:50. I ran a few intervals using the trees along the path as markers, and gradually brought my pace back toward 8:30. Mile 8 seemed to last forever, but as I hit mile 9 at 1:17:xx, I did some mental math and realized that with 5K left to go, if I could just maintain my current pace I would finish under 1:50 comfortably.

Then, a few minutes later, I remembered that 9+3 is 12 and 9+4 is 13. So if I could run the next 4 miles at 8 minutes/mile, I would be done in 32 minutes. But what are the chances of that happening? Pretty much 0%. But if I ran strategically, it might be pretty close, so I decided to keep on it.

By mile 10, I was definitely beginning to feel the effects of a sustained 8:30 pace, especially in my right hip flexor. Every mile felt like I was making a bet with myself that I could sustain the pace I was running. If I had been smart, I would have brought another gel for this point in the race, but I didn’t really expect I would be doing as well as I was. Also, I didn’t have any other gels at home that morning. Tant pis.

I had a feeling that if I could hit a little better than an 8:30 pace for the actual last 5K, I would hit a sub-1:50. It was at this point that I fell back in with the group I’d been running with earlier and exchanged a few words with them, so I wasn’t looking at my watch and assumed later I just hadn’t been hitting the pace. But looking at my watch splits, I had this:

Mile Pace
10 8:15
11 8:06
12 8:27
13 7:57
.1 (.26 on my watch) 7:30

I ran a 1:51:40 officially, which is about 100 seconds over a 1:49:59—meaning that even if I’d managed 8-minute miles for 10 to 12, I still wouldn’t have made it.

Last year, I ran a 1:53:13 on the same course, so I improved by about a minute and a half. I also managed my goal of beating my HH time. Part of this involved running strategically rather than stupidly, which is what I usually do. The biggest change was to find a pack or at least a tall guy to draft behind when running into the wind. Normally the decrease in perceived exertion in this position makes me speed up and puts me back in the wind; by biding my time, I was able to conserve some energy I really needed. I also didn’t take off with Kristi, which allowed me to save energy I would have spent very early trying to keep up with her (she’s fast). I took a gel at a good moment, about 5.5 miles into the race, with 7.5 miles on my legs. And I reengaged with my race mentally when I started to slow down and actually pushed myself. So I’ll call that a success, even if I didn’t hit my time goal.

Post-Tyranena Selfie with Kristi and Alex

Post-Tyranena Selfie with Kristi and Alex

Ice Age 50 half marathon, take three

One of my favorite spots on the trail.

One of my favorite spots on the trail.

This was my third time running the half marathon here. My times have been very closely clustered:

  • 2012: 2:00:59, 2nd in AG
  • 2014: 1:56:50, 5th in AG
  • 2015: 2:03:51, 10th in AG

Some race is always going to be your personal worst time. That’s just how it works. Interestingly, while I haven’t always gotten slower, I’ve consistently placed lower in my AG. Also, my AG has changed; I do get the feeling that for the half marathon distance, the women’s 30–34 age group is more competitive than the 25–29.

I feel like I’ve recapped this race before (here; looks like B was with me that year—the photos suggest I didn’t have a GPS watch yet, and I had a lot less definition in my shoulders…). Anyway, to avoid boring you, I’ll just hit the highlights this time:

  1. The first loop, I thought most of the hills were not as gnarly as in previous years. Also, unlike 2014, my legs weren’t trashed when I finished the first loop. Perhaps I am becoming a stronger hill runner?
  2. Unfortunately, I did notice I was pretty tired on the second loop (I stopped picking up my feet as well and stumbled a few times, almost falling). And the hills were a lot more pronounced.
  3. I felt like I pushed myself all the way through. This and last week’s race confirm that I’m probably in about 4:10 marathon shape.
  4. After a while, I fell behind all the fast people and was ahead of the slow people, and I found it quite hard to maintain my pace/focus. I knew I wouldn’t win, and I didn’t really want to go into the “pain cave.”
  5. Toward the end of the race, I passed a woman with some Thai tattooed on the backs of her arms. Ungrammatically, I shouted “คนพูดภาษาไทบได้” at her as I came up behind her. She was startled, and responded, “I have eighteen miles to go” (she was in the 50K) before realizing what I’d actually said. Too bad I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.
  6. My bad ankle hurt almost all the way through, which is weird because it didn’t hurt Thursday or Friday before the race and it doesn’t hurt now today (Sunday). Just one of those annoying things, I guess.
  7. I finished 10th in my age group. I’d been hoping I could still pull off a top-10 AG finish, so I guess that’s okay. Disappointed I couldn’t go sub-2, but it wasn’t my day. The weather was cool enough, but very humid. I miss being fast enough to pull off a sub-1:50 half marathon. I wonder if there’s a way to get back there without injuring myself doing speedwork.
  8. Probably not.
Grassy meadows, rather unpleasant when it's sunny.

Grassy meadows, rather unpleasant when it’s sunny.

Red trail, green grass.

Red trail, green grass.

As a warm-up for my 50K that is coming up in . . . four now three weeks and is also held on these very trails, it was reasonably good. I brought my hydration pack along and wore the clothes I thought I would wear for the upcoming race (about halfway through the race, the shorts, which are new, started to chafe, so those are off the menu. Good thing I tried them out.).

  • How annoyed were you with your performance, on a scale of 0–10 with 0 being totally fine and 10 being pretty hacked off? 2.
  • What mid-90s song was stuck in your head almost the entire run? “Gangsta’s Paradise,” by Coolio.
  • Last year, you got disoriented leaving the park, drove to Fort Atkinson, then later started to crash and had to stop at a random gas station outside of Edgerton and buy chocolate milk and potato chips in order to make it home. Did you experience those problems this time? Nope. I had a mini-sized energy bar before/during the race (pro tip: not a great choice of snack if your nose is stuffed up while running, like mine was). After the race, I grabbed a salt cap and some pieces of fruit before I headed out. When I got home, I had some peanut noodles, then later went out for (veggie) sushi with my family.
  • Did you accomplish anything after the race? I slept on the sofa for 90 minutes.
Post-run selfie (post-runfie?).

Post-run selfie (post-runfie?).

Next week, I am co-pacing the 2:30 group at the Madison half marathon, something I’ve never done before. (I’ve never even made it all the way through a race with a pace group, so it should be an interesting time.) I’ll be hanging out at the expo on Saturday around noon, so come say hello if you see me, or catch me at the starting line. Unless you’re going to be weird and awkward and make both of us feel uncomfortable, in which case feel free to continue stalking me quietly from a distance.

Also, speaking of quietly stalking me, if you missed it (and I don’t know why you would have seen this, since I didn’t announce it or anything), I’ve blogged a bit about ultrarunning over at Technically Running. It’s at least slightly humorous and has a picture of a skull I found attached to it for some reason.

Ice Age Trail Half Marathon Race Report

After a nice dinner with friends last night, I went to bed at 23:20 and got up at 7:00 this morning, a relatively relaxed start for a race day. B got up about half an hour later (I’d already dressed, taken the dog for a jog, and gotten myself the standard pre-race breakfast of half a bagel, peanut butter, and half a banana) and we rolled out around 7:50. After a brief stop for sugar donuts (for the driver) and gas (for the car), we were off.

Last year, I ran the 50k and it took 6 hours and although I got 4th place in my division, it was a grueling trek that left me sore for days. I was not really prepared for the hills, the terrain, and the other challenges of a long trail race.

This year, I won’t say I felt entirely ready–I went into this thinking I had done neither enough hill work nor enough speed work to really perform as well as I could.  When I signed up, it was with the hope of going sub-1:45, which would be a personal record (on any type of terrain). Instead, by the time I got to the starting line, I was hoping to finish in around two hours, which is  respectable for a half marathon but not amazing.

We arrived at Kettle Moraine State Park around 9:10, enough time for me to grab my race packet, spray myself with bug spray, put on my number and chip, and use the (somewhat scary) park outhouse.  Ugh.  Then we lined up, got a quick course talk (I missed most of it, since I was in the bathroom–the gist of it was “Two loops, follow the yellow arrows, there are some aid stations somewhere.”). And we’re off!

Do I look nervous?I had lined up toward the front, since I got to the line-up late, and although I felt like I went out pretty fast I was passed in the first mile and a half by what felt like the whole pack.  So I gave them all nicknames: Mr. Two-Bottles (one in each hand!), Ms. Newtons (not really a trail shoe?), Mr. Asthma Attack (at least that’s what he sounded like as he passed me), and Girl Giant, who was about a foot taller than me (not that I’m that tall, but wow).

I should mention that the trails here are not single-track; instead, there are cross-country ski trails,  hiking trails, and horse trails. Generally I prefer trails like this over single-track, although there were a few spots where things got a bit sandy underfoot, which is uncomfortable. The hills are quite steep and fairly constant; runners don’t get much in the way of downtime. A number of the descents are quite rocky too, so bombing down them without paying attention is hazardous.

I remembered the climb out of the first aid station from last year (it was mile 18 of the 50k; it’s about mile 2 or 2.5 of the half) and I had to force myself to relax as I hit it–my calves were cramping  up and I was starting to get a side stitch. Clearly in an attempt to maintain position I was running too hard, taking the hills recklessly–running scared, not running smart. After a while, I let go of all of my ambitions and I settled into a nice pace (about 9:15/mile, though I didn’t know it at the time, since I don’t have a GPS watch). I hit the second aid station around 45 minutes in (I think it’s around mile five), and shortly after that picked up a couple of chatty 50k runners. The woman, from Milwaukee, was a CPA. I didn’t ask the man what he did. The 50k has a 13-mile out-and-back and then two 9-mile loops; they were just finishing the out-and-back and seemed to be making pretty good time. They buoyed my spirits some, and we reached the start/finish/beginning of the 2nd loop area at almost exactly one hour.

At this point, I headed into the second lap with a lot more confidence. I was feeling very strong. I had brought a gel along with me, with the plan to take it at the halfway point if I felt like the wheels were beginning to fall off, but I didn’t need it. As I bid my new acquaintances farewell (the 50k and half marathon diverged about fifty feet past the starting area), I realized that Mr. Two-Bottles was directly ahead of me, and Ms. Newtons was leading him.  I began pushing a little harder on the downhills, and over a few successive ridges managed to pass them both and put some real distance between us. I decided I was going to run conservatively until I got to the second aid station, then push hell-for-leather for the finish.

Then, as luck would have it, I realized coming into the first aid station that I was right behind Mr. Asthma Attack. I took it easy on the long hill out and passed him a few turns later. I felt like I was keeping a pretty easy pace and I was able to run most of the hills in this section of the course.

Coming into a wide meadow, I saw a bright shirt ahead of me and realized–it’s Girl Giant. Unlike the others I had passed, she was still moving quickly–and smart: I saw her walk several hills, a good bet on this course. But by running some of those same hills, I was able to pick up some time. Finally, around 1:46:xx we reached the second aid station. The sign noted we were about 1.5 miles from the finish line. She left just ahead of me; I grabbed a cup of water, drank/inhaled half, dumped the rest over my head, and took off, dripping slightly. A few turns later, I had passed her, and ran it in for 2:00:59 and 2nd in my division.

Happy and Tired

B was waiting for me. We stopped at the local cafe/deli/general store on our way out and I got a coffee, into which I added sugar, skim milk, and a scoop of vanilla protein powder. Then I ate a chocolate-covered creme filled donut. This may not have been the best choice (or so my stomach suggested), but it was delicious. Then I took a nap.

A few lessons learned: Don’t get carried away with the crowd right at the start; it’s easier to save some juice for the second lap and pick people off than it is to come back from a bad start. Drink lots of water. Be careful when bombing down hills–if you over-reach, your knees will start to hurt. Walk the hills that are too steep to run. Know which hills those are.

I think I’ll be back next year.

(Photos taken by B on his iPhone. Thank you!)