Race Report of the Spirit of Morgantown Olypmic Distance Triathlon, Morgantown, Wv. (6/29)

   Well, it was my original intention to put up these reports in chronological order, but I had such an amazing race yesterday that I had to post it now.

   My good friend from the Pitt Cycling Club, Matt Appleton ("Mappleton" for those in the know) and I headed south for a good time in West Virginia.  This was a momentous occasion for him because, while I was doing the Olympic race (Rhode Island 70.3 was two weeks away), Mapple was taking on his first Half Iron distance triathlon and hoping for a time somewhere in the 5:30 range.  I was also excited to see some top pros such as David Thompson, Brian Rhodes, Richie Cunningham, Amanda Lovato, and Heather Gollnick, as well as up and coming star Andew Yoder, also taking a shot at his first half.  Disappointment followed the day before the race, however, when I found out that Rhodes, Cunningham and Gollnick were not coming due to injuries.  

   I was much relieved to have a short drive to a race for once, but will make up for it when I have to drive to Rhode Island in a week and a half.  It's common in Pittsburgh to give WV a little grief because of the school rivalries and just because it's WV.  We were given good reason on the drive down about ten seconds after crossing the border when we saw a tire directly in the middle of the road.  Oh, West Virginia.  We stayed at the house of one of Matt's cousins that was only about ten minutes away from the race site.  

   They had a great system set up for racking the bikes in transition.  We had to rack the day before (as well as pick up our packets) and I was a little concerned about my bike because the forecast was calling for heavy rains that night and early the next morning.  However the genius race organizers held the transition on the first floor of the race hotel's parking garage.

    We spent a pretty low key night watching Harry Potter and playing with the family dog and finally turned into bed around ten or ten thirty.  I played the nice guy and let Mapple have the spare bed so he could be well rested for his long day.  Unfortunately, his nerves didn't let him sleep very well.  I, on the other hand, slept like a rock and didn't even feel the slightest hint of nervousness.  I think I'm starting to race better for it as well.  I'm getting used to the process and seem to be a lot more calm and collect heading into things and it's really letting me focus more on just racing well (as, we'll see).

    We had the normal breakfast, the normal drive to the race site and a calm transition set-up.  The pros started (which was cool), Mappleton's wave started, and after awhile, so did mine.  Before I started however, I had the pleasure of seeing the pros come out of the water.  18-year-old Andrew Yoder was in the lead by a little more than a minute.  Our swim started out well with no elbows being thrown and nobody getting kicks to the face.  After the first turn, I settled into my swim and was feeling good, but not phenomenal.  I was catching a lot of stragglers from the half iron swim waves (including Mapple).  I could tell because all of the waves had different colored swim caps.  Though, I didn't see any oranges (my color) around me.  I figured I was in a pretty good spot, but that there were at least a few people way out in front of me.  My swim has been improving in leaps and bounds, but I still consider it my weakest point.  

   I exited the swim, but didn't know in what sort of time.  I don't like to wear a watch until the run because I don't think it's going to make me move any faster in the swim or the bike.  There was also no clock at the swim exit, so I had no idea.  I got to my bike and could tell that nearly everyone's bike was still there, so I was in a good position.  It's hard to tell because I obviously didn't waste any time taking too good of a look around.  I had no idea I was in the lead.  I had the fastest swim of the day, even out of the elites that were in the OD race.  Something that I would be absolutely shocked to find out later, but had no idea of at the time.

   About five miles into the bike, I got to see David Thompson fly by the other way.  Awesome.  I began mowing down people in the Half Iron race.  The course was a little hilly, but not rolling.  The uphills were really gradual, with a few big climbs, but I think it was less tiring because it wasn't constantly up and down.  The gradual uphills were slight enough that I could stay in my tuck.  The first person from my race caught me after about 8 miles or so and the second after maybe 15.  I dropped my chain at this point on the course during one of the big climbs.  I tried to throw it into the big ring to correct the problem without having to get off, but my bike wasn't having it.  I hopped off and calmly and quickly fixed it.  I lost maybe twenty seconds.  

   I got in off of the bike and was feeling great.  Two people passed me (a feeling I'm not used to, as the bike is usually my strongest of the three).  I still had no idea that I was running in third, but my suspicions were growing.  I also thought that I had biked a lot faster than I had (1:05, a 22.6 mph average).

   I threw my watch on and started the run at a very fast pace.  I was a little worried about holding it for the whole run, but I was consciously taking that risk.  My first mile was in about 6:00 and I hit mile two at around 12:30 or a little less.  The run went two miles down a paved bike path along the river in which we swam, turned around and went the two miles back to the finish area, continued on the trail for about another mile and then wound up through town and WVU's campus for about a mile and a half.  We were running one lap of what the half iron guys were doing two of so the mileage turned out to be 6.55 miles, instead of the Olympic standard of 6.2.

    About a third of a mile from the turn around, I saw the first guy coming the other way and he was absolutely flying.  Number two followed shortly after.  I still thought there was maybe someone else in front of us that had just been way way ahead.  I passed through transition at mile four and still felt comfortable with my pace.  After about another half-mile, a woman recreationally running the other way shouted at me that I was looking good and that I was third.  This was the first time during the race that I knew that for sure.  She also said that second was three minutes up the road and that she couldn't see anyone anywhere behind me.  I knew it was essentially useless to try to catch a guy three minutes up the road with only two miles left when he was already running in the 6:15 (I guessed) ballpark.  I concentrated on holding as fast a pace as I could without blowing up and without letting #4 gain any ground.  I didn't know how well he was running.

    The course took a right at mile five that took me up and out of the bike trail area and started through town.  I crossed a main street and had to run up one of the steepest hills I have ever seen in a race (or in training for that matter).  They had a guy in a devil suit at the top so that was great fun.  The rest of the run through town was fairly undulating, but was nothing major.  I took a look over my shoulder a few times in the last mile and still didn't see anyone.  I was letting myself soak up the experience that I was about to place third overall in a substantially large race.  I wasn't exactly sure how much longer I had to go because there was no mile 6 marker, just five and then the finish.  I crossed back into the park through and underpass and saw the finishing chute.  I had the place and the crowd all to myself as the race director announced my arrival as third in the Olympic Distance race.  It was a rush.

   My final time was 2:13:06.  It was my goal this season to finish an Olympic in 2:10, but I think I can say that, if not for the extra .35 miles on the run course,  would have been in the 2:10 minute.  I called my dad and Kayla and told them the good news and took pleasure in the fact that I have such great people pulling for me and feeling just as happy towards great days like this.

   I hooked up with Mappleton's family and watched him finish his race in a tiring time of just under six hours.  Definitely an experience.  I was so glad to actually get to watch a race, because I'm usually doing it.

   The race report pretty much ends here.  I'm still pretty excited.

Race Report of the Silver Springs Duathlon, Stow, Oh. (5/4)

Kayla once again accompanied on the way to Ohio (I could get used to this) as I headed out for my first duathlon.  I was a little nervous because I had heard that running before biking, as opposed to the opposite order, causes quite a bit of soreness.  The only time I had done these sports in this order was at least a year and a half ago and I remember my legs not being too happy about it.  I didn't really intend on doing one, although I was never opposed to the idea, but with a half iron race about a month away, I needed to find a race to do somewhere and finding triathlons in the northeast in early may is a little difficult because of the water temperature.

The morning was chilly, but not unbearable (especially after Allison Park) and things were looking up as we didn't get lost on the way.  After checking in and racking my bike, time seemed to fly by and we were lining up.  I really didn't get in a warm-up, but just a short ride up the road to make sure everything was in working order on the bike.

The gun went off and we started on the first 5k lap of the race.  About the first mile was uphill and put us all in check.  The pace was pretty high to start out with and two of us jumped on the heels of the guy in the lead.  We hit the first mile marker in 5:37.  This was officially the fastest mile I had run in my life and I was doing it in the first leg of a multisport race.  This might have been cause for concern, but I felt pretty good.  I had a look behind me and already pretty much saw nobody.  It looked as though the race would be between the three of us and we were only a mile in.  Over the next two miles, the other two slowly put a few seconds in to me.  By the time we finished the first run, the leader had around a minute on me and second place had about thirty seconds.  I knew the leader was obviously pretty strong, but I felt confident that I could do something on the bike.  I finished the first 5k in 17:30, nearly a minute faster than I had run a straight 5k the year before.

I could see second place on the road in the distance in front of me at the beginning of the first of two laps.  I was ever so slowly reeling him in and I ended up passing him just before the beginning of lap #2.  First place was very far off in the distance, but I could see him so I put everything into the second lap but couldn't pull him back.  From talking to Kayla after the race, it sounded like we were biking about even times so he was still around a minute up on me.  As I made the turn into transition, I could see him starting the run.  Although I put a good thirty seconds on him in the first lap of the bike, I couldn't put any more time into the guy behind me during the second, really.  I had maybe ten or fifteen seconds on him into transition.

I knew starting the last run that he was a better runner than me, and he closed the gap pretty quickly and started to pull away.  I was heaving pretty hard and was doing my best to at least limit my losses.  Not much changed in the last 5k.  The three of us finished about a minute apart from each other.  I hit the time goal that I was looking for (which would have won the race a year ago; story of my life) and was pretty impressed with myself and the run times I posted.  Just as an aside, fourth place didn't come in for over three minutes after I had crossed the line.

I picked up another piece of hardware and Kayla and I hopped in the car to find something to eat.  Normally the story would end here, but we were unaware of the wonder of Ohio and its lack of restaurants where the amount of deep fryers outnumber the employees.  We eventually got back on the turnpike and stopped at a huge rest stop.  Not fine dining, I know, but it was better than Arby's.  Once again the story would normally end here, but we were unaware that there must thoroughly be nothing to do in Ohio.  How could we tell?  Because there were at least fifty high school kids in the rest stop.  What were they doing there?  Were they on a field trip?  After a while, we came to the conclusion that, no, they were not on a field trip.  They do this for fun.  High school kids in Ohio hang out at rest stops, apparently.  The story ends here.

Race Report of the Boston Marathon (4/21)

Trying to describe the Boston Marathon without the experiences and environment surrounding it before, during and after the race would be like...well, just take my word for it.

I arrived at the train station in Harrisburg where I joined both of my brothers and my dad for the long drive up to Boston.  The drive was a drive with nothing remarkable happening, but it was nice to be in the same place with those three.  I'm not sure of the last time we all got the chance to spend some time together.  I'm excited everyday to think about how my athletic endeavors often bring us to the same place after such a long time of seeing each other mostly only on holidays.  

On Sunday, I still had to pick up my registration packet.  Luckily the building where I had to go was right across the street from the finish line of the Women's Olympic Marathon Trials so we go there a little early and caught the end.  After hanging around the finish area for a bit, we headed to the convention center that, because of the Trials was absolutely packed.  I think it took me about twenty minutes to get my packet and t-shirt.  I very much wanted to check out the expo as it was the last day for it, but it was a mad house and not worth it.  We had tickets to catch the Sox game later that day and if it worked out, we'd be able to get back to the convention center before it closed for the day (which later worked out perfectly).

I was naive to think that a 10:00 am start time meant that I could sleep in a little bit longer than most races.  Then I realized on race morning that moving 25,000 people from Boston to Hopkinton by shuttle actually takes that long!  We got up about five in the morning.  I packed my pasta to eat later at the athlete village, on-site microwave discovery or not.  The fam dropped me off across from the park where the shuttles were at a little after six or six thirty and headed out to do some sight-seeing until they had to stake out a spot along the course to cheer me on later in the morning.  

The organization and logistics of moving that many people are so well put together that it has be commended.  Beside the park was a line of school buses that stretched up the road and out of sight.  About ten buses would be loaded up to capacity, depart for Hopkinton, and another ten would pull in their place immediately to start the process all over again.  I ended up sitting next to an older woman from Wisconsin and had a great conversation with her.  After hearing about some of her experiences with getting outside for a run in the bitter cold of Wisconsin in the preceding months, I felt like a bit of a whiner complaining about dealing with the winter weather in Pennsylvania.

I luckily got to the athlete village (no microwave to be found...hello, cold pasta) early enough that finding an open portable toilet was no problem.  I hung out on a bench with a guy from Canada for most of the morning and ate my pasta and went to the bathroom again...and again and again.  Nerves, I think.  After a while, we were given the signal to start the short walk to the starting corrals.  As my number was 4701, I was in the fourth corral and close to five thousand people back from the starting line.  I was finally going to experience what the people at the back of the pack at a normal marathon would experience.  As I was standing ready with my arm warmers, running gloves and low-light lenses (it was a crappy, cold and dreary day all morning long), the sun broke out and warmed everything up pretty quickly.  I didn't have much time to consider this because the gun went off a few minutes later.  

We crested the very small hill in front of us and I'll never forget what I saw:  nearly five thousand people stretched out in the valley in front of me like one giant, moving mass.  It was a pretty remarkable horde of people and I can't imagine how it looked from all the way back.  About two miles into the race, I ditched my arm warmers and tucked my gloves into my shorts.  Before the race, I figured out that I needed to run 21:15 5ks to hit my target time of sub-3 hours.  I started nailing my target times right away and felt great.  I was even putting a little time in the bank with every passing mile.

The first half of the race was surreal and I hardly remember it going by.  I was feeling great and giddy at the prospect of hitting my ambitious target.  We passed Wellesley College to the tune of a flock of college students shrieking at the top of their lungs.  I had heard that they were loud, but loud was a huge understatement.

After 30k, all was still going to plan.  I think I still had something like fifty-two minutes to finish the final 12k.  Then something went wrong.  I still have no idea what it was but I was slowing down.  Late into mile 19, I knew that if things didn't turn around quickly, I would not be hitting my goal.  But I don't think things very often turn around after 19 miles.  After mile 20, I had pretty much accepted that my chances of under three hours had gone out the window, but I was content in thinking that I would at least shave some time from my PR of 3:08 (the previous November in Richmond, my only other marathon).  But the Newton hills had gotten the better of me and I was forced to start walking after 21 miles.  This was the biggest mistake of any race I have ever done.  I have never had the experience of having to walk and quickly found out that, once you stop running, your legs get so tight that to get that running motion back is nearly impossible.  

 I started to run again after a few minutes at probably the slowest pace that's allowed to be called something other than walking.  Time disappeared at an alarming rate.  I walked for the second time (of three total) around mile 23.  I couldn't believe that I didn't have anything left to even finish out a 5k.  The crowds were three and four people deep all along the barricades for the last few miles.  This would have been the coolest thing if not for the fact that I felt like I was letting all of them down by walking.  It was the exact, crushing opposite of the feeling it should be having that many people cheering you to the finish.  I wanted to run if for no other reason than to make them happy.  But at the same time I was seeing people around me being pulled off of the course because they couldn't stand up anymore or because they were weaving all over the road in a painfully lifeless walk.  The second to last thing I would have wanted was to walk the closing miles of the Boston Marathon.  The last thing I would have wanted was to be one of those people not even allowed to finish.

I did my best to run down the final street to the finish line and stop the clock at an incredibly disheartening 3:52.  I struggled through the timing chip lines, the food lines and the medal lines just in time to get my race bag and find my family, who I had also felt like I had let down enormously by dragging them to Boston so they could see me struggle in for such a pedestrian finish.

I arrived back in Pittsburgh the next day, disappointed, but in awe of what an experience it all was.  I don't like to have to find a silver lining in anything, I'd much rather just have it all be a glowing spectacle.  But I could find some comfort in little things that actually went according to plan up until the point it all fell apart.  I can also find comfort in the fact that I qualified for Boston, the holy grail of marathons, on my first try and that many more opportunities to go there will come.  There is no way I'm letting a 3:52 stand as my only result at such a hallowed race.  And finally I can take comfort in looking at my wall and seeing that finishers medal.  It's a pretty cool feeling having one.

Race Report of the Just a Short Run Half Marathon, Allison Park, Pa. (3/29)

Winter in Pittsburgh isn't exactly what I'd call mild.  I was getting worried over the past month or so because available outside running days were few and far between and I was staring down the Boston Marathon on April 21st.  I was doing most of the work on the treadmill at the Y, but after a few months of doing that already, I was increasingly throwing caution to the wind and running outside anyway, no matter what the temperature.  

The week leading up to Just a Short Run (JASR) had been pretty mild and I was holding out hope that race morning would continue the trend.  Kayla (the GF) and I rolled out of the house while it was still dark out to walk to the car and start the drive.  The cold shot through my jeans, shoes, gloves and thick fleece instantly; it was going to be an interesting morning.  My race outfit consisted of a short sleeve, summer weight under armour top, running shorts, a hat, glasses and a thin pair of running gloves.  Note to self:  Bring tights next time.

I wasn't able to pick up my registration packet the day before, so I had to arrive early to do it morning-of.  We got there a little over an hour before the start of the race, picked up my packet and found out that there was no indoor space in which to stand!  I was way too early for the sun to peek over the high trees of the park, so I was left freezing for an hour in sunless, windy March weather.  At least it wasn't raining?  

Graciously, the start came.  I lined up a few rows back from the front.  Just as the sun climbed high enough to get over the trees, the gun went off.  I started at a pace that felt pretty good.  Fast, but something that I might be able to hold for 13 miles.  The start of the race was a little misleading, as there was a 5k starting at the same time as the half marathon.  We were all running the same opening 5k, but the half runners took a turn at the finish area and did two five-mile loops around the park.  But for the beginning I was basically chasing 5k runners.

At the first mile marker, I looked down at my watch (I still live in the stone age and do not have a GPS to tell me what pace I'm running) and it read 6:00!  I was a little surprised at this because I had run a 5k the previous fall at 18:24 (5:55 miles).  I couldn't believe I was running six-minute miles to open a half marathon and felt great.  I had run the Baltimore half marathon the previous fall (my first half) in 1:27 (6:39 miles) so I knew that, even if I slowed down quite a bit I was on for a pretty good time.  

I passed the finish area at the 5k mark and the clock read 18:55.  I was still pretty proud of the time I was headed for.  About this same time, my hands finally began to thaw out.  The first five -mile loop went pretty well and I was still feeling good.  But at the beginning of the second, I started to fade a little.  There really wasn't much on the course as far as drinks go.  I think I only hit up one station that actually had gatorade so that was all I was working off of as far as calories were concerned.

With about a mile left, I still hadn't checked my watch because I didn't want to know if I was doing better or worse than Baltimore.  I didn't want to find out if I wasn't improving at this.  I looked to my right and could see the finish area across the lake so I finally looked at my watch.  It read 1:18 and change.  I was excited at this time so I really turned it on, thinking I could pull off maybe a 1:22 or 1:23.  However, the bend around the lake was so gradual and took much longer than I thought it would.  Nonetheless I came across the line in 1:25:25 (6:31 miles), just over two minutes faster than Baltimore (and this race was .15 miles longer than 13.1, if you want to get picky...and I do).

After laying down on the pavement and complaining about my legs to Kayla for a few minutes, I decided that this was a pretty good precursor for Boston in three weeks.  I went home and had a great nap.

Finally Getting on the Web

After an onslaught of computer problems, I'm finally back up and running with a new Macbook!  I just created my page yesterday, so I'll upload race reports and other fun stuff in the near future.  Be sure to visit often and keep up on my most recent races and training info.