Month: August 2024

The last time I competed and at world masters we had five days between the cross country race and the half. This time it would only be four. For the rest of week I only ran short-easy runs on Wednesday and Friday, took Thursday off and got a massage that day. That helped, but would it be enough recovery?

The half marathon course would be challenging, 4 loops in the park each with two large hill climbs plus several rolling hills. The entire course is 90% up or down (with over 1000 feet of vertical for the 13.1 miles).

I thought the best strategy would be to go easy the first lap and then work my way into a good position in the second and third laps.

100 meters into the race.

I was probably about 6th place through the first couple of miles, but it was mass start with all age groups, so it was hard to tell. I could see two competitors 15 or so seconds ahead, I kind of knew that the favorite (Paul Mingay of Great Britain) was up ahead and out of sight.

The pace and effort were slightly faster than I had planned on, just under 6:20 for the first 3 miles, but I did not want these guys to gap me too much.

It was windy and I spent a lot of time hiding behind the larger Scandinavian runners!

I caught a few runners in my age group in the first loop, and had moved into what I figured was 4^th place as I passed the timing mat. Soon after I passed Jukka from Finland and my friends soon confirmed that and said I was in 3^rd for my age group. The guy in second, a Ukranian, was only about 10 seconds ahead.

The pace on the second lap was slightly faster than the first. Was I burning too hot to catch my competitor? Would I build enough of a gap to fend off any advances from trailing runners that were moving in the field.

I didn’t notice at the time but this where I caught the fast-starting Spanish runner (end of first lap).

The hills were tough but I hoped to be able maintain the pace. Toward the end of the second loop (between 9 and 10K) I crept up the 2^nd place runner.  In hindsight perhaps I should have just hung back 20 or 30 meters, out of sight, and wait to pounce later in the race. However, I kept my effort the same and passed. He fought back and looked super fit. And so we played cat and mouse over the next lap and a half. Early in the third lap, after taking a drink and gel, he fell back and I seemed to be clear. But I don’t think he was ever more than 5 or 10 seconds back. At about 15K, on the second hill and near same point I had crept up on him on the previous lap, he caught up.

We had a fight going on and by now my legs were feeling combined effect of the hills, the pace, and Tuesday’s race.  

We stayed together through lap 3 and beyond, but with 2.5 miles (4K) to go I hit a funk and found that I was struggling to hang on–the hills and pace had taken a toll, so I eased up a little. He (and the same 60 yr old Finnish runner I had battled for several laps in the cross country race) gapped me by about 5 seconds.

That would cost me in the end, and looking back I should have fought through that and kept with them.

The last time I went up the steep hill it felt like I was crawling up the steeper hill, but according to my teammate the gap according to my teammate the gap was only about 8 seconds. I felt that maybe I could close that over the long downhill sections that followed. Once crested I picked up the pace back into the low 6s, but with 2K to go my calf started cramping and I had to ease up. To avoid worse cramping, and maybe even having to walk, I felt I no longer could I pursue the Silver medal. My hope was just to maintain pace and not allow the 8 to 10 second gap to grow.

I knew might be vulnerable, that there could be someone closing faster than me, but I had to find that balance between pushing, more cramping, and maintaining a decent pace. Up the second hill on the loop, for the final time, I was almost there! Just a km to go!

I started to slow from the effort but felt a group of runners coming up from behind me, my sense was to not let them pass because there might be someone in my age group closing in. That sense was correct.

Over the top, some 700 meters to go, I recovered for a few dozen meters and shifted into a finishing gear that I felt I could hold (about 6:15/mile pace). I felt good about my chances to hang on for the bronze, and I did not think there would be anyone near me who could close faster than that.

If I had eyes on the back of my head, about 600 meters to go the Danish runner (in red singlet is closing in).

However, suddenly with just 400 or 500 meters remaining, a Danish runner in my age group, shot by and gapped me by a few meters. I was in shock and a bit of dismay, and it took me a few seconds to regroup. With 200 m to go we came off the bike path and onto the finish area, crowded with spectators. I threw in the best sprint I could muster and was gaining on him, maybe just a second back. He put in one final surge to hold is spot held on and I would finish a close 4th At the end only 9 seconds separated those of us in 2nd, 3rd, and 4th. (note that the 5th and 6th runners in the age group were 1.5 to 2 minutes behind us). That was a heck of a battle for the medals.

At the finish line, 4th in my age group!

Man, it was tough to come up short on this. In the middle sections of the race I felt that silver was there if I could just hold on, and on the last lap that the bronze was mine to lose. In the end I fell short on both accounts.

I did spend some time second guessing myself, my pre-race prep could have been a little better–I probably should have had more water in the hours leading up to the race, and maybe taken in more fluid at the aid station (there was only one aid state per loop). If I could do it all again, I would have backed off a little more on that second lap, and ran 10 or 15 seconds slower. A little extra energy may have paid dividends in the end. And that lapse at 17K when the Ukrainian got a 5 second gap, then 8-10; that was key and probably made the difference. In the end, since he didn’t pull away anymore after the hill, meant that he was probably hurting just as much as I was.

Nevertheless, I am still happy with the race, I age graded an 89.3% on a tough course, put myself into medal position, and fought like hell to the end to hold it. None of the top 3 had raced on Tuesday, although two of them had done the 10K two days before that. No excuse, just a fact. Some days your tactics workout better or you just don’t have that extra gear at the end.

But what a week it was! A 3rd, a 4th, and a team win.

I have just returned from a too-quick (9 day) trip to Sweden for the World Masters Athletics (WMA) championships, and it has take three days to recover from jet lag, race fatigue, and a cold that I came down with on the morning I left.

The outdoor WMAs are held every other year, and these are the premier events for masters runners and track athletes, age 35 and up. I ran in the indoor version in 2019, running the 8K XC and half marathon, winning three age group medals. It was probably the most thrilling week of my running life, and I felt that my performances that week were at a once-in-a lifetime level. In the half marathon in particular, where I ran away from a star-studded field and scored an upset victory of sorts.

You can’t beat that, and going to Gothenburg last week I felt that I shouldn’t try to meet that, to let this competition be its own clean slate. That’s not saying that I didn’t hope to medal in both events, but just not to have expectations built on the last time. For one I’m six and a half years older (new age group) and just a different kind of runner–the years do catch up. And for another, this being the summer championships, and during peak travel season for northern Europe, not March in Eastern Europe, I thought the competition and depth would be greater this time around.

I planned my training all summer around these championships. Peaking at about 70 miles a week, and except for a taper week and recovery for US Masters Track and Field Nationals last month, almost all weeks were above 60 miles. Very consistent.

In the end I was well prepared (maybe a less so than in 2019 for the indoor WMA championships), but had a very solid summer with no setbacks.

I arrived in Gothenburg on Saturday evening after nearly 24 hours of travel time (not to self, make the logistics less grueling the next time, maybe even break it up) in cars, shuttles, jets, and trains.

My first race would be Tuesday, the men’s 8K cross country event.

Part 1 Cross Country

The cross country race was on a 2K loop in Slottskoggen Park (formally the King of Sweden’s forest estate). Each loop featured two hills (one gradual, 2-5% over 500 m) one steeper but shorter (5-7% over about 200 m), and it had number of twists and turns, some roots and mud to navigate. This was real cross country, but it wasn’t technical. Just about right for a masters championship. The course, mostly on turf was in good shape. Road and sidewalk crossings were softened with strips of artificial turf or wood chips. There was one section in the trees that some bare ground and roots, and the downside of the second hill was intermittently wet and muddy for a couple hundred meters.

Course layout, 4X 2K loops.

With Dan and David, I knew we had had a very good team and we all felt that we could win the overall title if we all ran well. We also had back up with four other Americans, should one of us have an off day (three score). The potential to win was a great prospect–it was the main reason I went on this trip and trained hard this summer–to win the team title.

However, I was also nervous before the race–more so than usual for cross country–because I did not want to have a bad day and let my team down. Plus it’s not every day that you run for your country as team. This was my most important race of the year, more so than the 25K age group record attempt last spring, more than the half marathon in the same park four days later, and more than my upcoming sub 3 marathon attempt scheduled this fall.

David, Dan, and I did a leisurely 3K jog through parts of the course, and made last minute preparations. Weather was about 70F, with a good breeze (up to 10 mph) coming from the south. The sun was out and it did feel a little warm, but overly so.

The race itself played out better than I could have dreamed of.

We were off, about 100 runners, with the 60-64 and 65-69 age groups combined, and after a little jostling and hollering by a couple of competitors off the line, I found myself running along with my teammate David Westenberg in the top 20 overall, and maybe top 5 or 6 in our age group. Dan was fighting for the overall title and was up ahead, going after Alex Stienstra of the Netherlands. The lanky Stienstra had just won the 10K two days prior, and the 5K the previous week.

Startline anticipation.

The goal for me on the first lap was to pace reasonably with David and to stay out trouble on any tight spots. At the end of the first loop (which we crossed in 7:40) and we were in about 15th place overall and top 5 for our age group, while Dan was already 15 seconds ahead running a few seconds behind the tall Dutchman.

David and I early in the second lap.

We were in good position, but I thought the Dutch and British might have some depth and strong runners ready to strike on the later laps.

After passing the lap banner, and then navigating the long steady climb for the second time and I could see that our age group competitor Jukka from Finland was not too far ahead, running in a group of four. By the time we were reached the high point the group was only 10 or 15 meters ahead of me. I surged a bit to catch them, but David did not follow, he stayed back some 15 meters.

I stayed with the group (three Finns and German) for the next lap. I felt pretty relaxed, like I wasn’t running all out. However, I had a near disaster when my foot got tangled in the marker tape that was billowing in the wind, fortunately I didn’t trip, but did snap the tape! We crossed the 2nd lap in about 15:30.

Early in third lap, my teammate Chris said Jukka and I were were tied in 3^rd place. (but I heard 4^th!). I was feeling solid and thought this would be a good day to medal. So picked it up the effort on the incline and the pack of five that we’d had for a lap broke apart. Only one of the other Finns went with me but he was in the the younger age group. He shadowed me for the rest of the afternoon. I did slow down once and glance back to see where my competitors were, but start chattering in Finnish. By the I realized that indeed I was solidly in 3^rd place for my age group, and also by this time I wasn’t losing ground to Dan and Alex: they were about 20-25 seconds ahead, and would remain so for the rest of the race.

Start of Lap 2, running with the pack.

I crossed the mat for the 3rd lap in 23:21. Jukka was 30 seconds back, and David was in pursuit not far behind him.

Me and my Finnish shadow on lap 3.

My goal on the last lap was to hold onto my spot, and hope that Dan and David would do the same. The going did get difficult on the last lap but I held form over the final hill and sprinted across the line in bronze medal position (11th overall). My Finnish shadow did outkick me over the final 80 meters but it was a moot point. For the second time, I had scored a Bronze medal in cross country at the WMA championship!

Dan had pulled away convincingly over Alex Steinstra on the final lap to take Gold (his second in cross country), and David hung on for fifth place, behind Jukka. 1, 3, 5. We easily won the gold medal!

Yes the team gold meant more than winning an individual title in the half marathon. So etch a shelf for the new lifetime highlight. Maybe someday I can line up with Americans and do this again, but this was my first team win, and the experience just can’t be beaten.

Favorite picture of my favorite moment of the best running day in my 48 years of running and racing: Team USA celebrating the 65-69 age group win at the World Masters Championships with David (left) and Dan (middle).