24h Roller Montreal; duo (2-man relay); 8/23/2014 3pm Saturday

_motivation

After the solo race in 2008, I plotted to return to break 600km in 2010.  Life took an unexpected turn in 2009—devoting daily life to training was no longer feasible.  I postponed the 600k ambition each year.  Philippe Coussy beat me to it in 2012.

I was inspired by Luke and Jessica’s 2013 strategy: keep it simple; forget peaking; just do it.  Endurance sport ain't always about a big number.  “Play while health and friend exist.”  It didn’t take much to convince Casey to be my relay partner.  Voon volunteered to support. 

_goals:

1.  everyone safe and happy

2.  fight for win if realistic

3.  400 miles

4.  podium finish

5.  unable to walk normally Monday

_preparation

Casey and I focused on practicality.  We biked more than skated; Dallas wasn’t skate-friendly.  We maintained running form and would run Dallas Marathon in December.

The training schedule resembled typical triathlon programs:

2~5 week meso-cycles;

4-month base building followed by high heart-rate cycles

3-week taper.

I squeezed in a week of vacation in Maryland.  The longest skate was 5 hours—a far cry from 2008’s 12-hr Shicoff race simulation.  At times it was hard to resist training longer and harder.  “It’s better to be 10% under- than 1% over-trained”

Body weight cooperated.  Nevertheless I felt fat during taper. 

Boots continued to be a source of frustration.  I gave up on the visually beautiful custom Simmons.

_Montreal lodging

I stayed at Celine’s row house while Casey and Voon used a bed-n-breakfast.  We walked more than ideal the days leading to the race.  The trip wasn’t all about the race.

[pre-race food]

_shift strategy

1 90-minute shift followed by 10 1-hour shifts from each skater.  Rotate every lap during final hour. 

[compression sleeves as shin guards.  ready to follow racer with big back kicks.  selfie by Voon]

_revenge skate

Sam Fistel set up his camp next to ours.  He won 2010 solo category but had a disappointing 2013 event.  He’s determined to put up a big number.

[I followed the kid at the edge of the photo.  23.9 hours to go.  photo from FB]

_rivals

Our paddock neighbor Victorious Secret was eager, long-legged, young, and intimidating.  I started the race behind a Victorious uncomfortably fast; the free ride was hard to refuse.  My heart rate monitor malfunctioned, but I knew the effort wasn’t sustainable.  I let my draft go after 2 laps.  The 24-hour event was more about staying awake than about speed.

I hopped on the pack behind Marianne Portelance of “It Takes 2.”  She looked and skated like Jennifer Rodriquez: flat back with back kick.  Her partner had abundant hair coming out of his helmet and legs.  Victorious soon slowed and joined our pack.  The pack pace was dictated by the top solo skater Bruno Pettersen Coulombe. 

_"All for one.  All for one."

Many of my laps were with Bruno following team #22.  Bruno picked nutrition directly out of his support's back pockets.  Having a dedicated team was a no-brainer when I plotted to break the solo record.  Someone finally implemented the strategy.

Bruno would finish 151 laps for a new world record (655 km).  

[Everyone was curious about the blood on the knee.  photo from FB]

_close call

The 7-man pack was chaotic at the exchange zone.  Some wanted to protect their positions; others were getting on or off the course.  Marianne and I clicked frames.  I let the pack go and drafted behind another soloist moving 17 mph by himself.  His steady rhythm broke as he attempted to stay in a slipstream.  He crashed.  I jumped but clipped his right thigh.  I turned 180 in midair and had to put a hand on the ground to stay upright. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah!” 

The big guy glanced at his road rash and continued on, disgusted.  I followed.  I never saw him again after the shift.  My lower back stiffened up.  I worried.  23 hours to go.

A skater lied on the ground in the relay zone with broken teeth.  That could've been me.

Luke and Jessica lost the baton in the middle of the night.  I wondered how.  I lost the baton 1 hour into the race.

Casey came out 8 minutes ahead of schedule.  I got off the course regretting the suicidal pace.  I downed the scheduled nutrition.  I wished I bought more water and Gatorade.  I wished I used Loctite and new bearings.  I couldn’t wait for my next shift.

[not everyone moved at the same speed, photo from FB]

_time to complete 44 laps

Victorious Secret   06:16:23.41

It Takes 2           06:16:27.41

Texas Flyers         07:06:21.05

Brice                07:57:32.65

_into the night

By 10pm, it became apparent 400-mile was unrealistic.  Texas Flyer struggled with 10-minute laps.  Victorious Secret was doing sub-9.  We continued to strive for a podium finish.  Young racers tended sleep.

I left a message for Casey: skate conservatively before 3am, the midpoint.

_communication through support

Every hour, Casey and I exchanged 2 words + 1 phrase:

1.  shouting each other’s name

2.  “contact”

3.  words of encouragement before actual push.  “Stay upright.”  “How you doing?”  “I’m cold too.”  "Less than half left."  "Stay safe."

All other info was communicated via Voon in writing.

As I sat down after each shift, nutrition bags would magically appear around the chair.  Voon would take my trash, charge the GPS, and hand me skate tool per schedule on the spreadsheet.  I felt pampered.  In her spare time, Voon prepare Sam's drinks to save him a few bend-overs.

_2^nd near crash

12:15am, I was behind a Victorious when he crashed behind Bruno.  I couldn't see much in the dark but miraculously stayed up right.  Bruno threw me a question mark. 

“He crashed,” I answered in English and had no detail to contribute.

Bruno shrugged and told his windshield to keep going. 

_cramping

1am, my left calf cramped.  It got worse after half-hour rest.  Quads were also unhappy.  Putting on skate became challenging.  I visited the HPH massage tent at 3am; the staff was friendly.

“Where is it hurt, calf, hamstring, quads, lower back, no?” 

“Yeah.  How do you know?”

Everyone laughed. 

“Don’t worry.  We’ll fix.”

I woke up 20 minutes later on the table feeling relaxed.  Cramp resumed the moment left foot touched the ground. 

“Do you have enough electrolytes?  Are you drinking?” 

I dreaded having to ask Casey to skate my shifts.  I started popping Endurolyte.

[The Stick was no match for cramps.  photo by Voon]

_early retirements

Sam stopped skating halfway through.  His body wasn’t working as planned.  Sam integrated into Texas Flyer’s support team.

Victorious Secret disappeared by hour 14.

An hour later, "It Takes 2" went to bed. 

I continued to fight cramps.  Casey made good use of the blister kit and had other issues.  We were slowing at slower rate than our competitors.  Our standing kept improving.  I left Casey a message, “10 mph is faster than 0 mph.  Forget about lap count.  Just keep moving.”

_time to complete 77 laps

Victorious Secret   11:20:42.27

Texas Flyers         13:05:47.37

It Takes 2           13:08:16.99

Brice                14:46:48.55

_nutrition

Instead of using proven options, I arrogantly assumed I could handle 350 solid-food calories during each rest hour.  I also decided to test going with minimum electrolyte supplement.  This was a "B" race where I tried new things.

GI issue started before muscle cramps.  Bathroom trips robbed me of rest time.  I stopped all solid food; I conjectured my heart rate was so low I was burning mostly fat.  I popped Endurolyte like candy.  Red Bull and canned coffee started around 4am; they were delicious.  I stole Sam's Gatorade.

The sugary liquid diet made me think about my diabetic brother.  I wished he was at my corner.  I missed my family.

I was wet and cold at night but felt changing cloth had unfavorable return on investment.  It's cheaper to shiver.  

[Wrapped in Celine’s blanket in the relay zone waiting for next shift.  Photo by Voon]

_living on others’ generosity

[Celine provided our race bed and other items.  Selfie by Voon]

Candy volunteered to prepare Voon’s meals throughout the event, including celebratory cakes.

10-man teams went out of their ways to provide draft for duo and solo racers: Flying Fossils, Toronto Inline, Rainbo, strangers, 1 quad skater, and Super Mario.

[photo from FB]

The most used words on the course were “gauche (on your left)” and “merci.”

I was in 2 skaters’ slipstream when the shorter skater demanded that I share the work.  The lead skater refused.  They argued.  The little guy accelerated away angrily.  The lead skater made sure I stayed protected and could handle the pace. 

_all was lost

I was on sleeping bag visualizing the medal when Casey rolled into paddock 15 minutes ahead of 8am exchange.  He was dizzy.  I didn’t ask details; Voon would make good decisions with Sam’s help.  I laced up and started rolling. 

_"I want my mommy"

The sun was up.  A duo competitor offered draft.  I accepted.  He was skating well but slept his podium chance away.  I was in no mood to chat about the Ironman logo tattooed on his right calf. 

Skating 7.25 hours at any speed could keep us on the podium. 

“Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

I tried to pull a group of solo skaters; they didn’t like my pace or cadence. 

Candy caught me from behind to reduce my wattage requirement.  Her teammates continued the generosity.  A local squad took over.  That team entered the event to help solo and duo skaters.  The 4^th member was incapable of slow and steady concurrently.  I became alone on the seemingly deserted race track. 

Cyclists showed up for their Sunday morning workouts doing circles around me.  Pro skaters also passed me as if I were standing still.  The top skaters laid down sub-7-minute laps throughout the race.  I lost interest in their technique.  I just wanted to lie down.  Just an hour ago a podium finish felt inevitable.  I was afraid to ingest calorie; bathroom trip would cost a lap.  “Just keep moving--slowly and pukelessly.”

Herb came out with his trademark smile.  I whined.  “I didn’t prepare to skate 7 hours straight.”  He listened but wasn’t allowed to help me without a bib.

The legs couldn’t possibly go for another 6 hours.  I tried to draw strength from past experiences.  None made muscle fibers contract better.  I felt childish for feeling unfair.  “Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it,” said Clintwood in “Unforgiven.” 

I stopped the emotional downward spiral by focusing on seeking out each of Super Mario's teammate.

[photo by Wilby]

_glimpse of hope

9:15am.  Voon shouted, “Casey can skate now.”  I was concerned.  The heart surgery wasn’t that long ago.  I didn’t know what stopped him 90 minutes ago: heart rate, lumbar, GI, blisters, core temperature, cramp, electrolyte, hydration.

We had the top lap count.  The podium finish was ours to lose.

[leading by 6 laps at hour 20.  screenshot from Voon's phone]

_time to complete 111 laps

Texas Flyers         20:03:01.67

It Takes 2           21:01:09.46

Brice                21:28:39.11

Victorious Secret   out of picture

_electronic malfunction

Monitor showed us leading “It Takes 2” by 4 laps before the event computer crashed.  Our rival skated multiple sub-9-minute laps Sunday morning; we were doing 10~13-minute.  I had mental imagine of Mirinda Carfrae chasing down her 2013 Kona gold.  We had 1-lap margin per hour.  All the sudden a podium finish was insufficient--I wanted to win. 

11:30am.  I got on the course and was immediate caught by “It Takes 2.”  They reduced our lead by 3 laps in < 2 hours.  I stuck to the hairy dude and maintained the 3-lap lead for the hour.  He wasn't drafting well and wasn't going as fast as I was afraid of.  Everyone looked tired, even the 10-man teams.  2.5 hours to go.

_familiar route

Relay zone: look for drafts while avoiding colliding into skaters getting on and off the course.   Straighten lower back and use outer edges to recover from low skating during previous section.

Short flat straight: muster courage to sprint up the climb--might need to match pace.

Uphill: Swing arms, hip, tongue, and all available body parts to save quads while looking for a ride.  High cadence.

 

Downhill: long stride and glide but be ready to sprint into a slipstream.  Don’t cut the pros off at the left-hand turn.

Short climb, right turn, downhill, left turn: maintain the rhythm.  Avoid the man hole.  Watch for bikes, tricycles, baby strollers, skateboarders, runners, and inline skaters.

Straight flat before 180-degree turn: try not to zone out.  Skate on left side to avoid manholes.

Hairpin: be efficient.  Avoid cross over.  Don't skate into the draft.

Downhill straight.  Long strides—push and glide.  Be small--hands on knees.  Thank the volunteers.  Enter the relay zone. 

_final hours

Instead of hourly shifts, Casey and I rotated after every lap.  It's hard to believe 350-mile could win this race.  Things could still go wrong: cramps, mechanicals, and crashes.  I felt being chased by Joey Mantia.  The hairy dude from "It Takes 2" could hide behind elite teams.  I couldn’t remember my last 10-minute lap.  I didn’t remember feeling this weak in 2008. 

Sam became our race advisor.  We agreed 3-lap was insurmountable, except we had no way of confirming the actual lap counts.  There was a chance the lap counts were off from the start.  We decided to error on the paranoid side.  I didn’t want to become the famous 2010 Columbian skater

[video from YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJrGIzFpTcA]

_the final nail

The hairy boy walked to the pit with skates in hand.  The girl-roommate wasn’t ready.  Our lead increased by 1 lap. 

[One of the 4 mounting bolts came loose, photo Wilby]

_chased by fear

Celine and everyone showered us with positivity.  We needed it. 

Last 2 laps.  I still felt “It Takes 2” was breathing down my neck despite all evidence to the contrary.  Maybe they didn't really sleep; maybe the chip failed to trigger the sensor.

My form reached a new low as a racer caught me on the climb.  “Help me!”  He waited for me to get in position, said a few French words, and started to hammer.  My strides regained timing.  It still amazed me how paceline worked.

Every inch of the course was familiar by now.  My existence shrank to matching movements of a stranger’s feet.  The motion became second nature again.  The end was in sight.  I felt free.  I didn’t want this to end. 

The final sub-10-minute lap ended.  200 miles came late in the race—it took me an hour more than planned.  I recounted things we didn't optimize: pace, nutrition, rest, clothing, and race simulation.  Mostly we didn't carve out the resources necessarily to train for the pace--this was a team decision made months ago. 

We didn't reached Luke and Jessica's 2013 lap count; they were 3rd.  Race results are about who show up.

The PA system sandwiched “Texas Flyers” between French phrases.  Maybe announcer said “Our own It Takes 2 is only 70 seconds behind the Texas Flyers.  We can still do it!”  I continued to push.  I kept looking back. 

My team was all smiles after I high-fived through the human tunnel.  I tried not to look at watch every 5 seconds before the 15-minute result challenging window expired at 3:15pm Sunday.  

[We won!  photo by Celine] 

_#’s

Laps: 132

Total Distance: 356 miles

Speed: 14.8 mph

Fast lap: 8:19

Slow moving lap:  16:23

Slow lap with break:  22:06

Lap distance: 4.34km

 

Johnny's Garmin 310XT data

http://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/580141451

[photo from FB]

Position Team Name   lap count

1          Texas Flyer      132

2          It Takes 2        128

3          Brice    125     

6          Victorious Secret        81       

Things could've been different if the silver medalists watched this video

_post-race

Casey recovered as if it were just another fun long ride.  He wore a smile and last pair of dry socks.

Candy’s hug and cake were sweet.  It's helpful knowing a friend wanted you to succeed.

Celine soaked up the atmosphere and didn’t seem surprised by anything.

I recognized half the skaters who helped me.  Everyone was in celebratory mood.

It was great to see Patrick and his 3 females.  He provided a hug and a Belgium beer.

The stomach never felt great after midnight.  It went further south with alcohol.  I leaned my forehead against a wall ready for things to come out while Casey and Voon loaded the rental car.  This race was harder than Tour de Donuts.

Walking wasn’t too difficult.  “Should’ve skated harder.”

Celine offered everything we wanted: hot shower, dining arrangement, and sleeping quarters.

The digestive system recovered in time for the celebratory dinner.  

 I felt blessed.

Liberty 5k, The Colony 7/4/2014

It’s the first week after base phase for 2014.  I signed up for the 5k run with zero tempo or interval training. 

I set Garmin 310xt to 6:22 pace for PR.

The course was fast.  It was weird to run anaerobic after months of long slow sessions in different sports.

The body performed as expected:
Mile 1: kept up with the pace—as opposed to suppressing the urge to follow the leaders.
Mile 2: struggled to maintain pace—losing distance with each incline.
Mile 3: unable to hang on.

The perceived result was far worse than actual.
For the final mile:
Perceived:
MHR = 180
Avg pace = 7:15

Actual:
MHR = 192
Avg pace = 6:55

Chip time: 20:00:40

Garmin data
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/534293107

Carrollton Trails 5k 05/03/2014

I focus on longer races and don't train specifically for 5k but am curious how fast the legs could run the distance. 

Carrollton Trails 5k was promised to be a fast point-to-point course.

_goal
Sub 20-minute.  6:25 pace. 

_format
The website said to park at high school lot then be bused the start line.  I incorrectly assumed I could jog the course backward to start.  The distance between parking and finish line turned out to be non-trivial.  "No problem, I'll just follow the runner in front.  How hard could it be?"

I asked for everyone's pace in the sub-7 section.  1 girl plan to run 19:xx.  Perfect.

_race
1 minute after declaring her resolve to even split, the girl took off with last year's winner.  I resisted running with the lead group, which included 1 girl and 1 dog.  Before first mile marker, I chased down half dozen runners, including Heather.  I was inexperienced with 6:25 pace and breathed disturbingly loudly. 



 Water stop near mile 2 was well staffed.  Volunteers took up some trail space.  2 labs slowly crossed the remaining width as I approached.  Fortunately the owner didn't panic, and I didn't have to jump over anyone.

_blind leader
Front runners were out of sight.  I came to a T-intersection and didn't know which way to turn.  I went right.  I considered taking off the singlet to consult the map at back of the bib.  I slowed to see which way the next runner pick.  Heather ran toward me.  I continued. 

Garmin pacer got confused by my maneuver.  I ignored it.  I didn't see mile-3 marker and finished with a few matches unburned.

#'s
20:09
pace: 6:29
place: 9/518 (behind 7 guys and 1 dog)
HR: 169/185 bpm
air temperature: 66F
humidity: 40%

recovery food

I resist the temptation to sign up for another 5k.
"Focus on Montreal 24-Hour"

Accidental Qualifier 4/09/2014

Kurt, "Hey did you qualify for Boston last weekend?"
Me, "I was too slow for Boston.  Might try again in 2015"
"I turn 45 in August so if I can squeeze out another 3:23 at Dallas this year I could do it lol"
"For 45-yr-old male, you need 3:20:00....  qualifying time is 3:20:00"
"Check the BAA website, it has 3:25"
"Holy crap, I qualified!"

I was surprised, happy, embarrassed, relieved, and a little lost.  Mostly I felt like a dumb ass.

Hiring a running coach could’ve avoided this dumb mistake.

I was more interested in qualifying than going to Boston before 2013 bombing.  I found out most of my friends belong to 2 buckets:
“Are you stupid?  You want to get blown to pieces?” vs “That’s cool.  Hope you make it.”

Now I get to plan on running Boston on Monday, April 20, 2015.  Apparently I’m only qualified to apply, not guaranteed a race spot.

Had I known I only need 3:25:00 12 months ago, I could be racing Boston in 2 weeks.  If I had the correct qualifying time in December 2013, I would’ve missed out on a memorable experience at Texas Whiner Marathon.

I invested heavily to achieve qualifying time at 2011 and 2013 Dallas Marathons.  I failed for non-fitness reasons.  無心插柳柳成蔭.  I signed up for 2014 Irving mainly to support a local event.  Before yoga injury, I plotted to do a Karnazes by including the race as part of 79-mile spring run. 

Sometimes the side of the mountain is more interesting than the peak, but you can’t have the sides without the top.

Irving Marathon 4/05/2014 (Qualified for Boston 2015--5th time's the charm)

 “Can I PR by 8 minutes without marathon specific training?”  I face the same question as 2013 Irving Marathon.  With lingering injuries and memories of 4 failed attempts, I let go the idea of Boston. 

_milestones
1.  PR (Dallas White Rock 2010: 3:28:17)
2.  Apolo Ohno 2011 NYC (3:25:12)

_perfect condition
51F, 48% humidity, cloudy.  1 hour before the gun, I briefly considered qualify for Boston. 

_start
I started a typical pre-race kill-time conversation with Kayla.  "You look fast.  How fast do you run?"  "I will average 7-minute pace."  I wasn’t sure if she was joking.  "You're out of my league."  Kayla eventually won woman's division averaging 7:05 / mile.

Marathon started 10 minutes before half marathon.  I counted 37 heads in front of me.  7:44 pace didn’t’ feel easy.  I gave myself 50/50 chance of holding pace beyond mile 20. 

_running mate
3rd place woman caught up to me before mile 10.  Her Boston qualifying time was 3:30.  She asked for my pace. 
"Can I just follow you?" 
"If you want 3:30, you should slow down a bit." 
She agreed but couldn't help herself.  She passed me climbing a hill. 

Lindsey started to lose her form at mile 16.  I reeled her in, "at this rate, you'd beat your qualifying time by 6.5 minutes, which means your goal is too low or pace too fast."  She agreed but kept charging the climbs.  Been there, done that.  I stopped interfering. 

Lindsey was cooked by mile 20.  "This is half-way point.  You have a 6-minute cushion, so 8:45 pace would be sufficient."  Her eyes leaked doubts.  "Look, I'm a biddy-eye Asian with poor social skill.  I must be good at math, right?"  She smiled.  I held the pace and wished she could hang on.  For a moment, I desired for her to succeed more than reaching my own goal.

_nutrition
6 gels evenly spaced out, starting at mile 0.  Casey handed me a pack at mile 5 and 11.  I carry 2 in hat, 1 in back pocket.  The only issue was the volunteer shrinking back as I reach for water cup.  I could be the very first runner she served.

_intersection
The roads were partially closed for this out-and-back course.  The runners had the inside lanes. 

I saw the top 2 men duking it out running against motor vehicles on the meandering street.  The lead motorcycle was on the correct side of the cones probably feeling ignored.  Then I made the cop drove off runners' lane by charging toward him.  Another item checked off my bucket list: beat a cop at the game of chicken.

_the proverbial wall
Mile 21.  My pace bled slowly.  I celebrating holding sub-8 pace in 2nd half of marathon but felt the wall looming.

I started to heel-strike.  I tried to hold the image of Mirinda Carfrae at Kona.  Las Colinas Blvd was littered with hills.  The legs hemorrhaged speed with each additional climb.

What would the new model be if Apple acquired Dyson? 
iSuck.
Mental image of the perfect runner evaporated.  The pavement pounded my piriformis with each step.  The pain was bearable, but I wished the body remember how to run.

The electronic pacer left me in the dust.  I set the screen to quarter-mile pace.  Garmin 305 told me I sucked less than I felt.  Crampless, target time within reach, core temperature holding, ample fuel in the tank--this was the best marathons to date.

_embraced the suck
I swung my arms and hips like a race walker but with less elegance.  No one laughed.  I was the fastest runner on the road.  I passed an old guy on a Texas Flyer hill.  I missed having a paceline to skate with.  The old guy turned out to be 5 years my junior....

Half marathon walkers moved in clusters.  I begged them to give me the beeline then parted them like Red Sea.  A few cops seemed concerned.  I was unable to keep the chin down; I imagined I looked like my brother's Ironman photo.  The thought made me happy.

The final water station was stocked with enthusiastic volunteers.  "Water, Gatorade, what do you want?"  "Cigarette and tequila."  Their laughter made my day. 

The finish line came mercifully. 

#'s
3:23:48
pace: 7:47 / mile
place: 14/251
fastest quarter-mile split
    7:23 (mile 15.75)
slowest split
    8:49 (mile 23.5)
splits after mile 25:
    8:35
    8:28
    7:48
    8:09
    7:24


_post race
I was happy but felt ill.  Racing flats weren't ideal with poor landing technique.  "Hoka, I resist you."  I locked myself in convention center's unisex bathroom just in case.

Lindsey qualified for Boston.  She was an important person during 2 hours of my life.  We parted with a hug and might not recognize each other if we met on the street.

I felt better 20 minutes after the pounding stopped.  Bob and I went to My Place for Indian buffet.  We compared notes on family illness.  It got depressing.


_Pre-race physical activities:
-41 day.  Cowtown 50k.  5-hour aerobic run.
-13 day.  Rock n Roll half marathon.  Near PR pace.
-7 day.  9.3-mile Maffetone run followed by first longish skate of the year.
-6 day.  1-mile + 5k races in minimalist shoes.  Carrollton Runners Club.
-3 day.  1-mile tempo.  Legs felt dead.  Right foot and left hip unhappy.  Regretted racing in minimalist shoes 6 days before marathon.

Rock n Roll Half 3/23/2014

_shaky start
2014 early season started badly: I raced like I wasn't supposed to; I over-pushed yoga; a mounting bolt slashed right thigh; half of skate and bike sessions were canceled due to weather. 

With extra 2 lb and lingering yoga injury, I didn't bother with a training program for this race. 

I didn't rest properly 24 hours prior to the race.  "Let it go.  Enjoy life." 

_goal
1 day before race: 95-minute felt reachable; 100-minute would be OK.  “Treat it like a tempo run before Irving Marathon.”

_error on the aggressive side
77% humidity, 47F, NNE 17 mph wind. 
weather.com canceled the rain.

I lost my resolve for "just a good tempo run" and aimed to PR.  I set Garmin 310xt to 7:11 pace. 

bib # implied I was the first one to register

_start
Casey and I started too far back.  We lost time behind other runners.  I surged at an underpass to reach a better pack.  I stepped into a crack.  Left ankle rolled.  Right foot caught.  Close call.  I swallowed other people's pace.  Should've started behind Deena.

_failed electronics
I always became antsy at 5k mark at Rock n Roll.  Not this year.  The pace felt hard.  I made conscious effort to keep the rhythm.  Others passed me at climbs.

Things went more wrong at mile 4.  Side stitch started after GPS lost its signal.  I backed off.  1:35 group caught me.  My best option was to trust the 2 strangers.  I focused on a sub 95-minute finish but prepared myself for meltdown, “2-hour finish wouldn’t be end of the world, but give yourself a chance to breakfast with Voon and Casey.”

The herd included a dozen runners plus several of us at the fringe.  I didn't feel confident enough to join the conversations. 

I felt weak at 10k.  I felt in trouble.  Other runners in the pack fell off or surged to relay exchange.  Relay runners could be distracting.  By mile 8, the 2 pacers became my dedicated windshield.  I was surprised I wasn't doing worse.  I eavesdropped on the pacers’ conversation: they had opposing assessment whether I could hang on. 

I turned off survival mode as we crested the peak.  I thanked the pacers and accelerated.  "We'll beat you with the stick if we catch you." 

The legs were fried but kept on turning.  My body often surprised me at races.  "Why can't I reach this pain threshold during training?"  “How fast can I run if chased by a lion?”

[Proof I use heels while running, photo by Voon]

Runners were stretched out after mile 11.  I felt the pacers breathing down my neck.  I struggled to hold the speed while avoiding downtown potholes.  I couldn't reach the old guy just 15 seconds ahead, it was maddening.  The high school kid behind me probably felt the same way.

#'s
1:32:48 (34 seconds slower than PR)
placement: 213/9678
10k pace: 7:16/mile
avg pace: 7:05/mile

[example of bad form per _Chi Running_, photo by Voon]


_personality flaw
I crossed the line cramplessly and wished I pushed harder.  I felt better when calves cramped while putting on warm cloths.

_post race
FB friend’s friend Rob came in before the 95-minute pacers.  We upgraded friendship and would do The Bull Run in 2 weeks.

Casey wore an orange polo shirt.  No problem spotting him this time.

I wanted to meet Deena Kastor but was too cold to wait around. 

Aunt Sherry knew I was racing but phoned.  My heart sank seeing the missed call notification--"something bad happened during chemo...."  It turned out she just needed to know if I wanted BBQ for dinner.  I suppose the dark cloud will remain 'til the inevitable.

Casey, Voon, and I reached AllGood Cafe before the crowd.  Life is all about timing.  Good food.  Great company.

Cowtown 50k 2014 2/23/2014

_annual pre-pre Chinese New Year accident.  2014/1/22 Wednesday.  Dark.
Less than 1 week into base phase of 2014, my training was interrupted by a horizontal tree.  I stopped, thought about 2013 car accident, then walked around the obstacle.  The leg brushed a mounting bolt.

In addition to an impressive hospital bill, the accident terminated the 6-week Cowtown preparation. 

I skipped the remaining key training session during Liza's visitor on 2/13.  I felt unfit and planned accordingly.  Per Lucho (Tim Waggoner), I had sufficient cardio capacity to run 50k, just not fast.


_pre-race activities
Lunch with an old friend.  We hadn’t sat down alone in decades.  She chewed me out on lack of progress in relationship.  We finally talked about her son’s death.  I came to realize I held it against the parents to feel blameless.  It wasn’t fun to face one’s own ugly sides.

She ordered enough food for 5 and gave me instruction for reheating 避風塘炒辣蟹 before eating started.

I pick up race packet from Casey’s, who had an optimistic agenda for his 50k in spite of illness.  I admired that.

Plenty of leftover for dinner.  Oil rice from spicy crab wasn’t the ideal pre-race food.  I felt blessed having caring friends. 

_pre race
Good parking was half the battle.  I parked close to McDonalds and took pleasure in central heating and flushable toilets while Casey enjoyed solitude of a unlit porta potty. 

I sipped coffee ‘til national anthem.  “This is gonna cost me a potty stop.”

I strolled to the start in time to watch fast racers taking off.  I was in no rush.  I triggered the timing device 9 minutes after the gun.  Plan: low heart rate.  No race effort before 42k.

_Maffetone heart rate (131 ~ 140)
The HR reading stuck at 2-digit due to lack of sweat.  The legs fatigued after 3 miles.  “28 miles to go.  This is gonna be a long day.”

5k pace = 8:55 /mile
2nd 5k pace = 10:00 /mile was depressing considering I ran 7:54 pace at the same HR 6 months ago. 

I dosed out heartbeats like currency.  By mile 15, cardiac drift made me poor and Maffetone unrealistic.  I moved the threshold to 150.  After the 3rd beer at mile 20, I slowed to walking. 

_group exercise
Corral 4 was an interesting experience.  A few color coordinated giddy runners led the wave.  I followed and quickly penetrated corral 3.  The momentum lasted around 10 minutes.  I flew pass people every downhill but was the slowest climber in sight.

I was happy to see Donnie’s Bont jersey at Main Street.  He looked steady and uncomfortable.  He raced up the big bridge at mile 9.  I walked--shackled by HR monitor.  I met a Mar-like girl.  We encouraged each other up the bridge. 


random stock photo via google

Running through Stock Yards was fun.  I saw no cow on brick road.

_thinning
Runners thinned out.  The participants became quiet after half-full split.  The struggle grew louder.

4:20 pace group caught me at mile 15, led by a social guy (PR = 3:38).  Like Mike Tillman, he was ready to make best friends.  We started talking heart rate, ex-wives, and relationships.  A lawyerly runner posed the question: “Do you know why divorces are so expensive?”  “Because it’s worth it.”  Everyone joined the discussion.  Good times.

By mile 19, the 4:20 group dwindled to 4 runners.  I was the only one accepting beers.

_alcohol
Beer shots started after half marathon.  Not the best pairing with blueberry Gu Roctane.
After the 3rd beer, the HR was over 150 even when walking.  “Fat-adapted runner I am not.”  I started to use buzz to gauge speed.

Buzz wore off couple miles later.  I made no conscious effort to control power.  I settled in the low 9’s on flats.  HR hovered around 160.


_8k extension
The ultra-only stretch was lonely.  The crowd vanished.  The course was sparsely marked by photographers and volunteers.  The hairpin turns did not inspire speed.  My mood went south; I felt dejected from the weekend before and wondered where I should go from there. 

I got tired of holding back.  I stopped walking the climbs.  I had been in motion for 4 hours.  I wondered why.  I decided the priority was to bring smile to the next volunteer during our brief encounter.

by event photographer

“你不必訝異無須歡喜,在轉瞬間消滅了蹤影” I sang the ancient song and crossed the marathon mark at 4:17:28. 

"We have gels, Gatorade, beers, hamburger, everything!"  The ultra course turnaround had cow on fire.  I would've stopped if my car weren't so far away.

I didn’t expect to see Casey after turnaround.  I thought he was done.

_strong finish
Fatigue level remained constant after 5k.  I felt fuel surplus.  GPS said 28.2x at mile 28 mark.  I didn’t’ know the exact remaining distance but knew I was within minutes of a 5-hour finish.  I thought about the minutes I literally pissed away.

Ultra and marathon courses shared the final mile.  Einstein was right about speed being relative.  Sub-9:00 felt like flying when everyone in sight was jogging Oprah Winfrey.  I ignored my electronics.  “Live in the present.”  I imagine being pre-injured Ryan Hall leading bunch East Africans. 

“2 more turns!”  A volunteer shouted.  I floored it.  Body responded.  It was glorious.


#'s
Finish time: 5:00:25

5k pace: 8:55
10k pace: 9:28
Half pace: 9:55
30k: 9:57
Full pace: 9:50
50k pace: 9:33

Gel: 6. 
Beers: 3
Potty stops: 2.
Avg/max heart rate: 144/191 bpm
Avg/top pace: 9:33/4:42 /mile
Top quarter mile pace: 6:37


_ walk art district

Doris and his men
After hanging out with Lucas, I walked the art district. 

To my relief, Kimbell Museum’s Piano Pavilion was not ugly.  I wondered how Louis Kahn would feel about his exhibit area becoming a restaurant named The Buffet.

Amon Carter had Hopper and Rockwell on its walls.

I didn’t expect so many would recognized the finisher’s shirt.  Locals stopped me on the street to express goodwill.  That never happened to me at Dallas Marathon.


_long dinner
A winter Olympic ago, Chad led the pursuit, Apolo saved a relay medal, Shani was all smiles, and I expected to become the first inliner to skate 600k in 24 hours.  I thought about the 4 years while getting through exoskeleton of the crab. 
“What does a fish have to do to avoid becoming dinner?” 
“What do I need to do to avoid regrets?” 
The end was nearer.

Watching Olympic closing ceremony made me want to attend a ballet concert.  I went for a more efficient solution.  I emailed Tom Baker about Bolero at Meyerson.