After years of neglecting bike fitness, I increased saddle
time in 2015.
It was great to resume the annual event after missing Hotter
n Hell for Montreal 24h 2014.
_goal
Good visit with Ann
Injury-free, bonk-free.
Finish before noon => average 20.3 mph
[Ann's guest room]
_mechanical
The BMC drivetrain became noisy over the summer.After acquiring the tools to service the
shifter and the chain, I was still unable to eliminate the remaining creaking.Local bike shop was unable to help me 6 days
before HHH due to volume.
_expo
None of the 3 items on my list had sufficient discount:
Giro Attack helmet
Rudy Project Statfly glasses
Bicycle Inc driving glasses
Bought other things at steep discount:
Atmos II for $79
LG Base layer for $2.50
[this is the most complicated jersey I'd seen.I didn't need another jersey but couldn't pass
it up for $20]
_crit
The quality of spaghetti dinner has been consistent for decades.The new price made it feel like a donation.
Bumped into Casey and Voon at post-dinner crit.One tire blew in front of us forcing 2 others to stop.Miraculously no one was hurt. I couldn’t see myself taking on this
risk-fun ratio.
_pre-ride went as planned.
6:30am: Parked on grass.
Installed bento bag
Assembled
wheels
Prepared nutrition
Installed Quarq power meter battery
Prayed bottom bracket would hold.
6:55am: rolling
shopping for group to hang with
rolled at
steady pace on official course
_century ride
7:05am: cannon.Started Garmin 310xt; waiting for the front pack.
The lead pack came like a freight train.Lots of gaps were available to join.No one was in a big hurry.4 hours to go.
_easy first half
310XT showed lots of 23+ mph with aerobic heart
rate.I appeared to be in better shape
than anticipated.No one seemed to be
working too hard.
A few dudes stopped in the middle of the road surrounding a
guy holding his shoulder.I reminded
myself not to take chances.
My main issue was opening the nutrition bag one-handed.Then my Gatorade bottle leaked because I
didn't leave enough air room before freezing.
[Garmin data]
_Hells Gate Express
It wasn’t hard to keep up with the pack, but yoyoing was scary
at time.The leaders started to break
into groups.I was happy with my
position: 23+ mph, mostly steady, I feel guilty for contribution so little.
The effort felt good; the road
surface did not.I tried to remember what it was like to skate chip n seal.
_erratic pace
3:35 into the ride, strong riders got antsy.Acceleration came in waves.I could feel riders red-lining.I decided to let the group go to minimizing
bonking risk."Go easy early. This is the course you bonked 3 out of 3." I only need to average 17 mph for the remaining ride.
Somehow I thought of Nelson's single's bar dating philosophy, "go ugly early."
_prolonging my skate career
Much of the surface was rough.I fantasized skating this course using 125mm
wheels in 2016.
_pulling the pack
3:35 ~ 3:56 averaging < 20 mph.Road was crap.I picked up a few riders along the way.I hoped at least 1 of them would share the
work. I put my head down. I wished I had my time trial bike.
Help came before 4 hour mark in the form of a triathlete with
terrible pack skill.The guy kept getting off the saddle due to man-part issue.I was grateful not having to face the wind
alone. I ease a little with every hint of cramping.
_successful finish
I anticipated to bonk between miles 80 and 90; I didn’t.I jumped into the first group after mile
85.The pace was reasonable, but my
legs felt weak.I was sad the new route
no longer goes through the beer stop.
2 miles to go. Riders turned jumpy. I rode by myself to avoid having to trust strangers.
The ride ended anticlimactically. All body parts functional. Everyone smiling.I couldn’t stop thinking about skating the
course again.
Took the BMC to Trishop’s to fix the
noise issue.Sure enough my bottom
bracket cracked.
Quarq upgrade was hard to swallow at $900.I postponed the decision 'til 2016.
_morning after
Woke up at 3:30am.I didn’t
sleep well.Legs weren’t too sore.I reinstated A2A training Sunday:
skate:
Windhaven skate ladder x12
HR = 114/158 bpm;
run:
10k @9:17
HR = 133/151 bpm
_18 days after
Met Doug at a Private Client dinner.He rode with the pace car for 80 miles and
finished around 4.5 hours.Doug owned a
Ducati but had no power meter on his S-Work.At least I had my priority straight.
_clueless
I signed up for the half marathon without learning of the details. I just wanted to visit Mike and Brenda.
[6 bikes have their own bedroom]
Harris' 3 other runner guests are Voon, Casey, and Steve.
It’d be a “D” race. I was wondering why runner friends predicted very slow pace. I couldn’t imagine a half would take more than 110 minutes. How hilly could it be?
Then Casey send me the stair photo
[Jacob’s Ladder]
I finally dawned on me this wouldn't be a road race.
_goal
Last time I ran trail, I DNF after 37.5 miles. I got shin splint.
New goal: Look for someone to follow. 2~3 hours. No stupid risk. Stay injury-free. Hotter n Hell was in 13 days.
_sprint start
I was advised to start fast, “you don’t want to get stuck behind slow people on Jacob’s Ladder."
Keeping up with the lead group wasn't too hard, but it felt ridiculous starting sub 6:00 pace for a 2+ hour race. I was unable to get in rhythm climbing the stairs due to unfavorable leg length. Couple runners overtook me—yeah, I was the slow climber today.
[First mile]
_unfamiliar sport
I stayed in contact with a few clueful racers. The surface went from “uneven dirt” to “lots of roots and rocks.” Footing was frightening. I stepped on where others stepped. Elevation changed quicker as we went deeper into the woods. The heart rate strap kept sliding off. The hand bottle was so annoying I wanted to smash it against a tree. It was frustrating unable to utilize my cardio capacity.
23 minutes into the race, I barely moved 2 miles. I slid on rocks and twigs.
[2nd mile]
“Why am I following these crazies?”
I accepted defeat and slowed. I drank to reduce bottle weight. HRM strap stayed put at lowered pace. I was by myself among the trees. Trail markings were clear. The terrain became fun at my own pace. I started to enjoy the morning. I felt blessed for the new experience.
Final 1k surface was mostly runnable. Moving at 9:00 pace felt like flying after an hours in the woods.
_2nd lap
Mike was at base of Jacob’s. I handed him my bottle. I wasn’t sure if the beer was for me, but I was thirsty, so I took it off his other hand.
Brenda and Voon looked happy after finishing their 5k.
[beer stop]
The ladder was doable after hydration, but the steps felt bigger. Then I got lost for nonalcoholic reason--some jerk destroyed a course marker.
Terrain was more familiar by now. I let legs dictate pace. I was in no rush. The final mile came as great relief: I didn’t hurt myself.
[drying fabrics before loading the car]
I won 3rd for my age group. The 2nd place beat me by 2 min / mile. Wasn't close.
_capping off nice visit with Brenda & Mike & Shiloh
Ninfa was a great place for Sunday post-race lunch. Quails seemed out of place in the Mexican restaurant. So I ordered it.
Windhaven Parkway in the city of The Colony had been my go-to hill since 2007. It's the most accessible hill for my training.
2007. Police would read the speed off the radar gun as we waive to each other. I sometimes jumped to the back of bike groups for their loops on the flat parts of the Colony.
2011 was a great year. Casey joined me. Cyclists and motorists often got a kick out of watching 2 guys racing up a hill on skates. Casey was the top non-pro skater at NY 100k that year.
2012. 1 cop strongly dislike skaters on the road--story of a typical Dallas speed skater's life . Other cops made an effort not to see the skater on the road. I was often asked to use the sidewalk such that I used the grass at the bottom to bleed off speed.
My heart wasn't in A2A that year and was ready to forfeit the registration fee. I went to Taiwan to be with family as father having his 3rd cancer surgery in 12 months. I wasn't sure if my job would be there when I returned to Texas.
2013. A cop offered: "if you are off the road when the petrol is at the bottom [of the hill], we don't see you skating." He was sympathetic having seeing me negotiating through pedestrian and pet traffic.
2014. Half of my downhills were on the sidewalk. I crashed on the grass for the first time--tripped by a Shiner bottle. I accepted that my A2A days were numbered.
2015. I lost the runoff grass to new housing development. I braked so much I wear wheels through.
[MPC really used 2 layers for these wheels]
7/12/2015 was a typical long session toward end of my base phase. The cop set up the speed trap before 10am. I went down the hill on the sidewalk grinding 110mm wheels. A few laps later, I saw police car leaving the scene. I got back to the road and bomb down the hill.
Half way down, I saw the speed trap still there--the departing police car was a different one. I attempted a high speed U turn. Left foot was caught in a grove. I crashed.
I was pissed and decided not to waste adrenaline; I continued to train 'til I ran out of water. Other than the crash, it was a decent workout.
Road rash was minor considering the speed.
_my first 911 call
Because I was too cheap to pay for Amazon shipping or to pay full MSRP at drug stores, I decided to bum Tegaderm off Casey. I phoned to confirm his stockpile then emailed to confirm my arrival time.
I arrived on time. No one answered the door. Both cars accounted for. Voon was in New York. I thought he could be in medical trouble; neighbors were friendly but of little help. I called 911. Cops came close to breaking down Casey's door. Casey eventually woke up from his nap.
Wasn't the best day; could be worse.
It took 18 minutes to dress the wounds after shower.
April 15, 2013. I developed intense desire to participate when I learned of the bombing. After multiple BQ attempts, my qualifying time of 3:23:48 put me in corral 5 of 2nd wave.
_training
Training for Boston went as scripted until injury got out of control after racing the icy Cowtown half. I reduced mileage and missed the final 3 long training runs. I followed Phil Maffetone’s advice instead of sticking to Runner’s World program. I scaled back ambition accordingly.
Reliable sources informed I needed to train downhill. I valued the advice but decided not to further complicate my life by piling on requirements.
Weight control continued to be the one aspect I did well. I was lucky that way.
_goal
My body had become less responsive to training in my mid 40’s. I decided this would be the last marathon as my “A” race. I initially wanted 3:23. It’d be cool to BQ at BM.
Injuries mostly healed by race day. Body didn’t peak. Calves felt under-rested. I adjusted the goal to 3:30 for insufficient preparation. I just needed good weather.
By race day, I further scaled back expectation with headwind forecast. I made up my mind I’d be happy with any result under 4 hours. Boston was my retirement party, not a breakthrough race. I’d set GPS for 3:25 finish and expected to lose 10 minutes during 2nd half.
_travel
I took Stacey’s advice on hotel and travel dates. Too bad she retired from this race. I was blessed to have great athletes and friends to egg me on.
I boarded a popular flight for runners. Many in official jackets from past years. Nike Frees were abundant. Half the runners probably read _Born to Run_.
Park Plaza was the perfect hotel location, but official events still involved a lot of walking and standing: packet pick up, expo, pasta dinner, bag drop off, bus boarding, starting line march, bag pickup, Fenway Park party. Hours and hours of waiting in line to go through metal detectors and bag checks.
CVS, Starbucks, and Donkin Donuts were everywhere. Parking spaces were not. The locals were welcoming; the manager at Saturday restaurant bought me a smoothie.
Past participants were generous with advice:
“Stay warm at Hopkinton.”
“Start slow. Play safe for 10 miles.”
“Make sure you stop for a kiss.”
“If you only train on flats in Texas, it’s OK to walk.” (Really?!)
_weather
We had the perfect marathon weather the day before the race. Forecast for the race day: 43F, headwind, 99% chance of rain. I’d never seen 99% on weather.com. Poncho became the hot item.
The rain started during the bus ride from Boston Common to Hopkinton but paused for my start.
_Hopkinton
Wave 2 had 9000 runners. We sat on the ground with collapsed cardboard boxes between our cheeks and muddy grass under 2 huge tents surrounded by Porta Potties. We shared jokes, stories, sunscreens, Vaseline, and body heat. No one wanted to be in the toilet queues in the cold.
Cloth donation bags started to appear at staging area. Underdressed runners pick freshly abandoned cloth out of the bags for warmth. The walk to corrals was long. The lines for the final Porta Johns were longer. I missed my corral because of bathroom line. No problem. I wanted to start slow anyway.
_race
Dozen guys stopped to pee on roadside couple minutes into the race. The first peer was a catalyst that gave everyone else permission to hug the tree line. A few females looked envious.
We were in no rush—there’s no way to gain ground without zigzagging. The pace was near constant despite of hills. All I could see were endless runners. I turned my brain off to be part of the collective. No time passed as first 3 mile markers flew by. The first turn was 14 miles ahead.
Average pace at 5k: 7:51 minute/mile
Average pace at 10k: 7:52 minute/mile
Average pace at 15k: 7:53 minute/mile
I was warm and comfy. Rain resumed. No one was surprised.
More guys stopped to pee on the roadside. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder like migrating birds. Modesty was not a Boston tradition. My admiration for Paula continued to grow. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6I2-YP42rs
_scream tunnel
Wellesley girls did not disappoint. Their enthusiasm could be felt a mile away. I managed to get a kiss between runners high-fiving through the tunnel. Many female runners stayed on the other side of the road. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pK057Sl2fSk
Average pace at 20k: 7:55 minute/mile
Average pace at half marathon: 7:56 minute/mile
_broken bodies
Some runners started to lose their bounce after Wellesley. The mob left them behind at the climbs. The road opened up. I overtook a struggling runner with impressive torso and titanium ankles in military uniform.
We passed more runners with missing limbs. One guy didn’t bother with high tech parts: just 1 leg + 2 crutches. Blinds were well represented. They ran with human guides. I wondered what they sensed besides the headwind.
They inspired me to celebrate my gifts instead of spending energy on what I lost. I might never run a faster marathon, but I promise not wasting the remaining health.
Average pace at 25k: 7:56 minute/mile
_fading
Mile 17. My quads started to fatigue but the aerobic system felt underworked. I controlled my enthusiasm on the hills.
“This isn’t even half way. Go nuts after mile 20.”
Average pace at 30k: 8:36 minute/mile (likely a computer glitch)
I passed more runners. The only runner I didn’t keep up with was Garmin electronic pacer—everyone around me bled speed. I wasn’t concerned. I fantasized going sub-6 pace on Boylston Street. I couldn’t wait to see what the body would do at the 2nd half.
I resisted the urge to shed cloth. The soaked T shirt and gloves were annoying. The headwind was getting old.
More runners slowed. The group spitted them out.
_Heart Break Hill
The famed climb was neither steep nor long. Runners took the hill at various pace. I couldn’t wait to crest. I celebrated getting away with non-course-specific training.
“Half way home!”
I visualized next 50 minutes: 3 miles at 8:00 pace then go nuts. I shifted gear; the gear wasn’t there. My heart sank. I felt someone handed me a piano. My quads stiffened. My paced down spiraled.
Average pace at 35k: 8:11 minute/mile
_weakening
Runners start to pass me in waves. No one made eye contact. I was surrounded by running machines. I was unable to keep up with other in-trouble runners I overtook earlier. Spectators urged me to continue. I felt cold. I knew what was coming.
I couldn't bear to look at the GPS. No one was moving at my speed. I managed to pass a few walkers in silver blanket.
_final miles
5k to go. The soaked clothing and headwind were really getting old. Instead of picking up a thermal blanket, I tossed the wet T shirt and gloves and ran as fast as I could. I visualized the upcoming hot shower 40 minutes away.
Mile 24 marker came agonizingly slowly. I had no sense of pace but knew I couldn't stop running. I needed the body heat.
My brain developed difficulties processing visual information immediately after eye blinks. It was scarily cool. The possibility of DNF entered my decision tree replacing the previous low bar of The Oprah Line. I thought about Chih-Yang at Ironman Taiwan 2015 8 days before.
I increased the cadence as stride length dwindled—Ironman shuffle at Boston. I had plenty of fuel but quads refused to fire, reminiscent of the time I sank Timo's jet ski. I was grateful for life's little surprises and for friends. I was no longer concerned about the result. I high-fived spectators. The crowd roared every time I raised my arms. I couldn’t feel the headwind. It was so freaking cold.
I never walked but took 17 minutes to cover final 2k. I didn't remember crossing the finish line.
Average pace at 40k: 8:25 minute/mile
Average pace at finish: 8:38 minute/mile
Chip time: 3:46:35
_race against shutdown
The hotel was half mile away. I visualized each step as I accepted the finisher's medal: skip post-race food; avoid curbs; hitch a golf cart ride; ask for a key at front desk; ask people to let me cut the elevator line; run hot water in the tub.
"Body parts will resume function in 15 minutes. Don't get burn by water. You just need to go another half mile. Should’ve asked for a 2nd floor room."
Shivering intensified, but I was confident in reaching shower unassisted as core temperature plummeted.
“Are you OK?” Asked a volunteer.
“Yeah. Just a little cold.”
The next volunteer asked the same question but didn't believe my answer. He wrap his arms around my torso and walked with me.
“Good job, buddy. The warming bus is right around the corner.”
I vaguely recalled having the bus in sight but next clear memory was lying under layers of blanket with legs elevated.
_medical tent
The attending doctor and her workers were so attractive, I reconsidered my decision about med school decades ago. I asked a nurse to take my photo with her phone but failed to confirm the cell number--now I don't have a medical tent photo for blog....
Core temperature restored after a shower.
_late finishers
Late finishers trickled in as other got ready for post-race party.
The spectators thinned but cheers continued 6 hours after the Kenyans
crossed the line. Some finishers looked steady and slow; others
suffered for hours. Some limped; some shuffled; a few cried; more
laughed. I wanted to hug every racer at the final mile. I didn’t care
if I got cold again.
_Fenway Park
The post-race party was poorly-attended. I gave the beer vouchers away before leaving for a mediocre Thai dinner while the last runner barely got through the half way mark.
“Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that's the essence of running, and a metaphor for life.”
-Haruki Murakami
Raluca was a bit traumatized by runners’ discomfort. The bouncy athletes from the morning were now limping wet dogs. I didn't know how to respond when she said my time was "not fair." I didn’t know how to explain why the result didn’t matter after investing so much into raising performance. Marathon was an isolated and selfish pursuit—we made our social circles pay for our desire, yet we didn’t have the words to articulate the cause and the appeal of suffering.
I felt blessed having resources to participate as the deadlines flew toward me at accelerated pace.
_the morning after
Gorgeous blue sky. Boston streets were littered with stiff pedestrians playing tourists.
My body didn’t agree with the sugar rush from Dunkin Donuts. My Tour de Donut days were over.
I revisited Boston Common when Systemware email arrived. I bought another day of hotel wifi and tested CS security ID via VPN. Before the race Andrea asked me to write an article on work-sports life balance. I was blocked--I got my ass kicked on both fronts. My life was a sequence of un-optimized opportunities.
I went back to Capital Grill for lobster roll 2 years after running with Mike. That was a good day filled with mundane fun.
The seating, service, and price remained great, food quality went down—businesses did what they needed to thrive. There's no balance--just compromises.
_there is no spoon
A runner ties his shoes to tell a story, “a story not knowing where it is going, not knowing itself to be magic. Closure is an illusion, the winking of the eye of a storm. Nothing is completely resolved in life, nothing is perfect. The important thing is to keep living because only by living can you see what happens next.”
--Patti Smith
Porsche Club of America held a Driver’s Ed 8 days before Boston Marathon. Perfect timing for the taper weekend. After years of joking about becoming one of those assholes who spent the weekends at the track, I signed up for 4 20-min sessions.
_stress inducing activity
Understanding logistics was frustrating. Event information was scattered and mostly consistent; uncertainties associated with each task added up during the week prior to the event: helmet rule, car inspection, race numbers color, start time, bathroom, rain day plan, wi-fi availability….
_event day overhead
It took hours to get through packet pickup, helmet inspection, mandatory meeting, and classroom instruction.
The classroom instruction was disappointing—half the time was wasted listening to the overweight instructor bragging about reaching top of mediocrity—I wondered whether I project the same image when talking about inline races. Much of the remaining time was spent on basic information such as line of travel.
[not street-legal car]
_coaching
My personal onboard coach Dave was a software project manager who was promoted away from Oracle administrator job by Dilbert’s Principle. Like many enthusiasts, he focused on necessary instead of sufficient attributes. Dave was unable to grasp that I didn’t have memorized the course therefore was unable to gauge acceleration. This was the most negative aspect of the on-track experience.
Dave accused me of lacking aggression behind wheel by letting more than 1 second pass between throttle and brake. It was awesome!
[fancy wrap]
There was a non-blind climb I never gauged correctly. Cayman’s onboard computer bailed me out multiple times. The tires squeaked a lot but never got off the pavement.
The big disc brakes were awesome. The dual clutch upshifted wickedly fast.
Couple times I accidentally shifted due to the pedal locations. I could see why some prefer column-mount pedals.
_puny engine
I got used to watching high-dollar cars passing me. This validated my engine decision. Ability to go from 60~110 mph couple seconds faster than a 275-hp wasn’t worth $50k. Nevertheless, it was awesome to see GTS’s and Ferraris flying by.
_inside and outside
First phrase on PCA’s membership application: “It’s the people!”
Porsche joke:
What’s the difference between a Porsche and a porcupine?
Porcupines have the pricks outside.
Porsche Plano made an effort to form a customer community. Majority of the owners I met were nonathletic middle class middle age guys wearing comfortable shoes who owned Italian car posters as teenagers. Men seemed to be introverts; wives, not so much. I didn’t meet million-dollar cars drivers, but a few also owned Ferrari and Lambo.
I enjoyed the conversation with other drivers between early sessions. But there were only so many things I wanted to share with complete strangers. By end of the day, most wore a blank expression just waiting for their track time.
_overhead
I left the house before 6am and returned 12 hours later. I was on the track for < 2 hours.
This sport was a lot like golf but with less drinking and ugly pants: weather could ruin your day. EPO was unlikely to enhance performance. You had little control over who’s next to you. Your financial value is distorted when it came to equipment acquisition. I loved the actual playing. The downtime drove me nuts.
I ended up with < 12 mile-per-gallon for the track. It was glorious.
_$ $ everywhere
Based on drivers I interviewed, tires lasted 5 to 6 such weekends. That worked out to be $50+ / hour tire cost.
A cop set up a speed trap waiting for us at end of the day. Waze worked as designed.
My lower back became unhappy during the 70-mile drive home. I was offered additional 4 Sunday sessions without fee; petro was cheap; Cayman was ready to go. I decided to keep my Sunday non-driving activities already planned. Mostly I didn’t want the long drive to the track + 7 hours of sitting and standing around when weather would be iffy.
I felt I checked a box off the list. For those moments when the machine responded like a body part and I trusted my life to laws of physics, I yearned to do it again—after I replenish my bank account.
The fast course I loved was no more. The new course involved multiple climbs, which required pace management.
[2015 course]
"A" race was Boston on 4/20/2014. I had 29 days to recover and was on week 11 of training program for. Body parts were tired and tight the day before Rock n Roll but improved by race morning. I decided
1. go for PR (7:03 mile/min pace)
2. not to dig too deeply.
Garmin 310xt was set at 7:00 pace.
_fast start
The start was awesome from corral 1. Last time I ran this well was 2014 Rock n Roll. I ignored the electronic pacer and kept up with the few runners around me. I was way over my limitation, but this was a “C” race--might as well confirm the boundary. Today would be a success if I could hold a decent pace ‘til 10k mark.
[I was 5 seconds behind the leader]
Mile 3. Garmin said 70 seconds too fast. I throttled back.
Mile 9. I kept pace but was laboring by this time.
Then wheels fell off after the climb. I didn't struggle. I watched people passing me during the final 5k. I held 8 min/mile but felt much slower.
I came in 4 minutes behind goal, similar to Cowtown but with very positive split.
Rob attempted 90 min finish. Missed it by < 1 min. He improved a lot last year.
_#’s
place: 226 out of 8486
5 k 21:11
10 k 43:07
10 mi 1:11:30Pace: 7:17 min/mile
Chip Time: 01:35:18
Clock Time: 01:35:23
_aftermath
I was disappointed about missing the goal but proud being able to predict the outcome at mile 2. Hopefully this little fun wouldn't cost many minutes at Boston.
I was happy for Rob but disappointed to miss post-race brunch with Casey.
Bumping into Kurt was a nice surprise. We laughed at our very positive splits over a beer.
_3 hrs after the race
I finished installing motion sensor light in the garage before enjoying tofu Korean noodles with a Cousera game theory course. I planned chores before meeting Penny and Kelsey for dinner: laundry, Cayman PCM file display issue, uploading jukebox, troubleshooting USB audio, resolving Rakuten issue, cleaning up living room, maintaining swimming pool. Life goes on. I could keep only so many balls in the air.
I possess too many possessions.
Father started a new round of chemo. I wanted to know how he was doing.
I fit Cowtown 50k into my Boston Marathon training program, which was going well except an ankle tenderness from stepping into a hole during an easy run.
I tapered for the 50k. Using the extra time that week, I replaced my 2006 Acura with 2014 Porsche and 2012 Civic.
_canceled races The weather turned wintery on Friday before Sunday 50k. All races except half marathon were canceled. Long distance runners were invited to run half.
[Fort Worth photo] The shortened distance was what Casey hoped for after the Asia trip. I met Casey for lunch Saturday; he got my race packet. I slipped on a film of ice outside Zoe’s Kitchen restaurant.
_plan I made the race a long tempo session. I set GPS to 7:20/mile. I’d hold that pace ‘til the base of Main Street climb at mile 9, then play by the ears. I gave myself permission to take SAG wagon or become a water station volunteer after mile 9.
I realized my wallet was missing during the hour drive to race. Apparently it fell out of the sweatshirt front pocket after Saturday lunch. Driver’s license replacement and identify theft became a dark cloud hanging over my head for next 10 hours.
_half marathon I saw couple hundred runners in front of me. Everyone was nervous on wet pavement and slush. The pack slowed to take the first corners. No one hopped on the sidewalk. The first miles were draining. The runners spaced out after 5k. I left room in front of me so I could see what I stepped on. My weak ankle was unhappy but in a non-painful way.
5k time check ranking: 300
I identified a group of runners with reasonable footing preference. I stuck with them for next few miles. Running through stockyard was always fun. The wet brick surface provided excellent grip.
10k ranking: 292
Main Street had little ice. I practiced taking water. The climb loomed. A few runners surged to bank time. Couple college kids faded.
I felt confident at mile 9. I threw away the T shirt and exposed my shoulders to cold air. I took the hill conservatively. I lost 400 feet on the climb to electronic pacer. A dozen runners passed me; some breathed heavily. “Hold back. This is just a training session—don’t dig.”
15k ranking: 296
I opened up after the climb and steadily took back lost ground. Icy patches were well-sanded. Thank you, race organizer.
20k ranking: 267
I was hoping to have someone to race against for the finally stretch. None came.
21k ranking: 265
Chip time: 1:36:24 Official Pace: 7:21 / min GPS Pace: 7:19 / min
_post race I made it home with barely sufficient petro.
[2 miles left]
After failed attempt to recover the wallet at Zoe’s Kitchen, I tried to accept the overhead associated with lost wallet. I focused on the long and late lunch of firepot with lots of vegi.
I had a full afternoon planned: cleaning swimming pool, reading Cayman manual, laundry, fixing shower leak.
Stopping the leak went unexpected well. Then I found the lost wallet in an unexpected corner in my garage. Never been so happy to see my driver’s license since I was 17!
Dinner at Densetsu. The sushi and company were great.
