Return to the Riverbank Run 25K

Among my big goals last year, was to set the American record for the 25K road race at the Amway Riverbank Run in Grand Rapids, MI. The other two were to win the overall age division at the USATF Master Grand Prix, and to run a sub 3. I got two of the three, but fell short at the Chicago Marathon in October.

Finishing last year’s Riverbank Run

This Was Not Supposed to be a Rebound Race

Although I did get the record at the Riverbank Run (by a full minute) it wasn’t a perfect day, with temperatures in the 60s, and I took a hard fall in the 2nd mile when another runner clipped my heel. I ran 1:40:39, and felt that I might have another minute with better conditions and no mishaps along the way. So last fall when I got a complimentary entry for winning my age group, I signed up immediately.

Everything training-wise was on track through March but at the end of the month I decided to try a new training system. The thought was that I could use the extra input from a professional coach instead of relying my own methods, which have worked but maybe I could squeeze out a little more. The results were less than perfect, three weeks into the program I felt overtrained and tweaked my hamstring. I was pretty disappointed to miss the USATF 10K championships at the end of April.

Fortunately, I healed up quickly and was only out for a week, and was able to cross train through most of it. Hopefully I didn’t miss much. However, I did feel off with the reduction in mileage and uncertainty of whether I would even be able to line up in Grand Rapids.

Travel Deja Vu

The logistics of this trip was almost a carbon copy to last year. We traveled on Thursday evening, which turned into Thursday night and just like last year the flight was delayed a couple of hours. We got into Grand Rapids after midnight and didn’t get to the hotel until well after 1 am. That wasn’t ideal, and I slept poorly, maybe getting 5 hours in before awakening.

We scouted the course in the morning, and I did a short shakeout run starting at John Ball Park, near the 3 mile point, and then visited the Lake Michigan shoreline at a county park about 45 minutes away.

Lake Michigan from Rosy Mound Natural Area

Wooded sand dunes at Rosy Mound Natural Area

We were really boring and even ate at the same restaurant that we did last year. It had good food, friendly service, and it was close to the hotel, so why not?

Even though I was tired all day, and wasn’t sure how much fitness I had lost over the past couple of weeks, I was encouraged by the weather which promised to have near perfect temperatures, with some wind. I set out to break 1:40 and to run a string of sub 20 minute 5Ks to accomplish that. The plan was go out and hold the pace for as long as I could.

Race Day

Fortunately, I slept well, as well as possible on the night of a big race, but did wake up frequently in the early morning hours.

The morning was cool and cloudy, threatening some rain which never really materialized, but it was also breezy with steady 7-12 mph winds coming from the northwest, and stronger gusts here and there–especially in the downtown area along the river and between the tall buildings.

I took an easy warm up, but it was intermittent because downtown was so crowded. Spent some minutes looking for the gear drop area, which I didn’t find (note to self–read the map/instructions even if you have been to the race before). So I ditched my gear bag under a bush near the finish. Jogged to the start area, and was shocked that we had just 2.5 minutes to start! (note to self, check your watch!)

It had started misting about 10 minutes before our start so I kept my arm warmers and gloves on. I wasn’t sure what the race would be like and hoped it wouldn’t rain the entire way.

In the days and hours before the race I was excited but more tempered than last year. I felt less pressure, like there was nothing to lose, but also less tested and unsure about my fitness. In 2023 I had already put up some good numbers by May topped of with a 92% age grade at the USATF masters 10 mile the previous month. This time I had not raced in 8 weeks, and was coming off a dinged hamstring which compromised training. Overall I was less psyched, but the day was good so I was ready to stick to the plan of sub 20 5Ks.

The Race

We were off and I found a groove and space right away. After that quick first turn onto the downhill toward the river, I checked my watch, which read 6:10 pace. So I let up a little. By a half mile I could tell the arm warmers wouldn’t be necessary so I pulled them off, and tossed them to Tamara, who was standing just short of the mile marker. Split 6:20 for mile 1. A little quick but with the net downhill, it was right on and I felt decent.

I found my pace in miles 2 and 3, and only checked splits at the mile markers. We ran by John Ball Park, where I did the shakeout on Friday, and I found the 5K marker on the road. Took my split there, which was 19:57, so right on. The effort felt typical for when I travel to sea level–fast (borderline too fast) but intuitively sustainable.

As we headed west out of the park and residential area to the more rural Butterworth Road I could see a large pack of 50 or so runners strung out some 20-40 seconds ahead, while I was more in a no-man’s land with a runner or two here and there, spaced 5 or 10 seconds apart. On the first hill (about 3.5 miles in) a couple groups of runners went by–I ran with them for a bit but, their pace seemed faster like low 6:20s instead of mid 6:20s. I did not want to flame out at 15K and chose to keep the effort even. With a headwind, this was the more conservative choice. On the top of the first hill a bystander said we were about in 100th place. (Looking back my guess was somewhere around 105th or 110th).

Still feeling fresh near mile 3 of the Riverbank Run.

The fifth mile had another long hill and a few rollers but the effort did not feel bad. Then we made a turn to the SW for a few miles with some long downhills. 10K split was 39:55. I guy who seemed to be close to my age pulled up and drafted off me for a bit, I dropped back and we ran side by side for a couple of miles. At an aid station at 8 miles I slowed to get my gel and he gapped me. Pulling away a few seconds a mile. Oh well.

I felt I was on that edge and we were barely half way into the race. Just before 9 miles we crossed the Grand River, going through a scream tunnel of sort. A local high school cheerleading squad. They had a lot of spirit was the noisiest part of the course.

Turning left on to the park drive it was quite the opposite. No fans, just quiet. Here y0u had to watch your footing. The road was fairly narrow and crowned, with a rumble strip in the middle, and it had lots of patched roadwork. Footing was best on toward middle the either side of the rumble strip. This is a nice stretch, it’s nearly flat, but its also a bit lonely. Crossed 15K in 59:44 and for the first time I felt decent about possibly breaking 1:40. I just needed to run 40:15 for 10K.

I passed one or two runners here, and maybe two or three passed me. The masters runner who had gone by was a good 20-30 seconds up. Still in the park at 20K, passed that maker in 1:19:49, so losing out on my little sub-goal of running each 5K split under 20. Mentally the 15-20K stretch is the most difficult part of the race. I was also feeling it physically and just tried to focus on little landmarks a minute or two ahead. Focus on that point, reach it, find another, repeat. Just after 20K we run back onto the newly paved road that leads into the city. It’s wide and smooth, much better footing and you can focus a bit more on pace and effort and think less ab0ut the surface.

They had a timing mat at the half, and I while I was feeling the pace it also felt sustainable. I could hold this for 2 more miles and still have a kick at the end. I passed a runner and encouraged him. A half mile later he came back and encouraged me. I mentioned that I was aiming for the record and he said “let’s do this!” and we ran together heading into the city. With about a mile to go there is a hill that climbs some 60 feet over a third of a mile, I anticipated it and ran within myself. My (right) hamstring started to cramp a bit (note the left was the one that acted up a couple weeks before), so I had to ease my pace until we made the turn and headed down. The tightness dissipated on the flat and down, but now we were running into a stiff headwind. I held on as best I could as my compatriot pulled away. So I was back on my own. However, I was able to increase my cadence and lengthen my stride as we wound through some twists and turns. I knew I had the record and was fairly certain I’d be under my goal of 1:40. Tamara was cheering at a corner, about 400 m from the finish and that also gave a boost.

Crossed the line in 1:39:50, running that last half mile or so at 6:12/mile pace. And that extra effort is what kept me under 1:40. A new American record!

After the race!

A Zero Result, Positive Outcome

The masters 10K championships in Massachusetts last weekend were neither positive nor negative for me, I didn’t race. So tl:dr a net loss. However, socially the trips was good and worthwhile.

I just had a day and a half to decide whether to make the trip to Boston and New Hampshire, where I had planned to visit a long-time friend. For about a half day I was leaning no, and was pretty sure my hamstring would not hold up for a hilly 10K road race on Sunday. But when I considered the other aspects–seeing friends–with the hope that there might be a chance to line up and race I decided to make a go of it.

Friday, travel day, was long (10 hours of car, plane, and bus) but it all went smoothly. Soon after arriving in Concord I tried my first jog in 3 days since tweaking the muscle. The first 12 minutes went better than expected. But soon after turning around on this relatively flat run, it started to get tight. So I walked for about a half mile while it worked itself out, and was able to jog on the pavement. 20 minutes total, and 9 minutes a mile. With less than two days before the race the outlook did not look good. Nevertheless, had a great visit with my friend, his wife, and another friend, sitting out by a fire until nearly 10 (only 8 my time) before turning in for the night.

On Saturday I took the bus back to Boston and met my teammate at the airport. We schlepped around the city and made our way to the suburbs in time for a shakeout run to the bib pick up, 2 miles each way. I felt okay heading out, but as a final test did 3x 20 second pick ups, and a moderate (maybe 15K effort) pace. Achh, it got tight and I decided right then not to do the race, even if it felt good on Sunday. It would just be too risky, and with the May 25K still a possibility, and the World Masters races in August on the schedule, I just did not want to lose 3-6 months on rehab and re-build.

Although I did not get to race the 10K I had some more good visits at the race. Did a pre-race 5 miler (no pain) with an online friend, and then met up with a couple of long time online friends, one whom I have known since the the 1990s and had never met and we talked for nearly an hour before I peeled off to find my teammates and to have a beer.

The flight back to Denver on Monday morning was a little dejecting, but I’ll take it as a lesson learned (trust your own training, even if it might be flawed).

Starting May a little bent but not broken. Ended up running 50 miles, pain free, this week and ready to move ahead.

One Test Down – It Didn’t Work

Following the half marathon race last month I took an easy week to recover and rethink plans for the rest of the year. I have really achieved most goals over the past six or seven years, in fact far exceed any expectations I would have had at any time prior to 2018.

In 2017 I achieved my first 90% age grade, extended my sub 3 hour marathon span to 34 years, and set the state record for the half marathon. Twice, with a 1:19 in August and a month later a 1:18. And then I capped off the year with an age group bronze medal at the USATF 15K road race championships in Tulsa, OK and placed top 3 in the age grade category, as well as an age group 5th place at Club Cross Country–at 59, at the far end of the age group just two months before turning 60.

If I had ended the quest there, that would have been my best year as runner. But I kept going and things got better and better. The only thing that escaped me however, was the sub 3 marathon. I’m still at it.

So after rebuilding in the end of March I made a big change. After 43 years of self-coaching I decided to contact a coach to see if I could step up my training and bring my marathon time in line with the shorter distances–which indicate that yet another sub 3 is possible.

After some email exchanges and a couple phone calls to discuss the possibility I sent my first month’s payment with anticipation but also trepidation. Would this coach–who is recognized nationally, authored books, and has coached elite runners for decades–be the right fit. He has a reputation for prescribing hard schedules. Nevertheless, in our discussions he said that considering my age he would typically schedule two easy days between harder workout. He was also encouraged by my recent mileage (nearly 65 miles a week in March, including a cutback and recovery for the half marathon), and said my goals (25K in the spring at sub 6:30 pace, half marathon in the late summer in low 1:20s, and sub 3 marathon in the fall) were ambitious but attainable.

April 1 to 22 the shift

He sent some strength and stability exercises by text and the workouts on Final Surge. The exercises were about 50% new, especially standing stability and strength routines. In the past have dabbled in these but not consistently, now they are part of my weekly routine. I was more familiar with the core work and mobility, as well as the drills.

The workouts, were different though. I had run 25 km on Sunday the last day of March at a pretty decent clip (sub 8 minute miles) so I was a little tired. Tuesday’s workout was a 5 mile tempo at 15K effort. I texted and said that I’d prefer to move that to Wednesday, and do the subsequent mid-long run of 12 miles on Thursday, thinking of the two days of recovery between harder efforts. He called back immediately and said that he was hoping for an “adaptation week” where the workouts would be a little more compressed to build some fitness. But assured me that this wouldn’t be common practice and the point was just to go through the motions.

So I did it. And ran just over 6:30 pace for the 5 miles and actually felt better than I had expected. The next day of 12 was tough (actually did a slow 11.5), however. After an easy hour on Thursday, Friday’s session was a 4 mile uphill tempo, starting at 7300 feet and climbing 1000 feet, followed by 200 m reps. I felt that I was on the verge of an injury after that workout, closest I had felt in the four and a half years since my hip problems. But I backed down over the weekend and by my next hard workout (17 miles with a challenging progression to sub marathon pace ) I was feeling good again.

The track session three days after that went well, and I felt back into the groove. After recovery, a few days later I had another hard workout, an hour long progression and afternoon hill reps. I overdid it on the afternoon session, misunderstanding the instructions and thought that was supposed to be a tempo effort for 5K when actually it was meant to be moderate pace (learning the shorthand the hard way!). But I took it super easy for the next two days and felt pretty solid by Wednesday’s long progression–which I didn’t run as hard as I had the previous week.

Okaayyy.

After two days of recovery, I was feeling better and last Saturday’s session was 8 minute repeats, getting progressively faster. The weather and running surface were terrible (bridle path, saturated with water and snow, at 30 degrees), but the effort was there. It was still good though, and I was pretty happy with the workout.

I was a bit concerned about Sunday and Monday–there was no two day recovery. A 90 minute mid-long effort on Sunday (recommended rolling hills), which I had to do on pavement because of the weekend snow, and Monday was another hard progression, this time 70 minutes.

On Monday it was unseasonably warm (45 degrees above Saturday’s chill of 30), and I took it easier, running marathon pace plus 15-20 seconds for the first 35 or 40 minutes, and I didn’t pick it up to marathon pace or under until the last 4 miles. Still it was a really hard effort and I was a bit discouraged that I was running that much slower than pace but not feeling good about it. We talked briefly about this on Monday night and agreed to ease into next weekend.

Tuesday the 23rd was an “10 miles easy-moderate” but I set out to do an hour very easy, and if I felt well maybe try for the 10 on Tuesday.

April 23 I hope it’s not day of personal infamy

I slept somewhat poorly on Monday night and woke up tired on Tuesday, and allergies precluded me from wanting to go out for my run before work, but I figured it would be warmer in the middle of the day. However a string of meetings precluded me from getting out the door before 3, but at least it would be the warmer part of the day (high 50s) and my allergies were not bothersome.

I drove to the open space park where I typically run several times a week and started at 3:30. I had meant to put on half tights because it was a little cool and they fell better on tired legs on such days. But I forgot and didn’t turn around, just kept going. I felt really sluggish (but often do on recovery days) and ran the first bit at 11-12 minute/mile pace, barely more than a walk. At about 6 minutes I slowed down and did some dynamic stretches, also typical. I like to wait until I have run a bit and have had some blood flow. All’s good.

I was starting to feel decent and was dropping into the mid 8s, figuring I would do 6-7 miles at in the 8:20s-30s and be good with it. At a trail intersection I could go straight on a fairly flat 10-foot wide fitness path, or drop down a steep pitch (10-12%) for about 30 meters and catch the other end of the path, which leads to a fun creek path. Like the half-tights, perhaps fatefully, I turned left and went down the steep path, but very slowly. My watch buzzed 1 mile (10:03), and just a second later, as I reached the bottom of the hill and made a slight turn to the right onto the flat path, I felt a ping (less than a pop) on the back of my right leg–I knew that was my hamstring–but paid no mind, I’d be fine. Ran a bit, maybe 30 seconds, and all was good. Bit then just a few steps more, I could feel some pain and tightness building in. I stopped and walked back on the flat path for a few minutes. It started feeling better so I tried to run again. I got less than 200 meters and nope, had to walk home.

The aftermath today, and the future

I logged in zero exercise minutes today, just rested, iced it, wrapped my leg, and took ibuprofen. It’s a little difficult to elevate the leg at work but at home I have had it up on a chair while I sit on the couch typing. I’ll self-treat for a week or two in the hope that it will get better.

I know I set myself up for this, and have pondered some woulda coulda shoulda. Primarily, maybe I didn’t need the coaching change. I thought I would have some blind spots and training weaknesses, and probably do (like I found that these types of progression runs are tough). This coach’s philosophy is sound but maybe not feasible for a 66 year old. That said, I could just say no to stacking the workouts–sure there is some benefit from supercompensation, but it’s not worth the risk. I’m not sure if I’ll continue with this coach, it’s too much and I think injury is inevitable with such a schedule. On my own, I know I would have run an easy hour or less on Sunday (not 1:34), and Monday also would have been an easy day. And with a fairly big race coming up on the weekend (now in extreme doubt) Tuesday would have been a light-moderate session of something like 4X 800 or 3X 1000 with some pick ups. Not a hammering 10 mile progression with no recovery from the preceding two days.

I don’t know if it made a difference, but would the half tights have helped? A different course (smooth tow path instead of a single track), and had I gone straight on the path instead of that descent maybe my legs would have warmed up enough and the hamstring would have held up. But I didn’t do these things and there is no way to know.

So the future? Get healthy and hope that I can resume running soon, within a few days or a couple weeks. Or at least if I can jump onto some cross training for a while and maintain fitness into the summer. If the rest of spring is a wash, that’ll be acceptable I guess. I learned some things and learned some lessons. Having a trashed summer and fall would be very tough, I had a big year planned and know that there aren’t too many more to go. I enjoy the training and after all these years still get a kick out of racing.

Canyonlands Half for the Bucket List

I have wanted to do the Canyonlands Half in Moab Utah for 25 years now. Well, maybe discounting the 10 years in Alaska, but even then I would sometimes check the results online. It just never worked out in the late 1990s and early 2000s, when many of my friends from Fort Collins would race there. For the past 9 years since returning to the Lower 48, it seems I have always had something else on the calendar. With no USATF masters races on the calendar in March or early April I considered traveling out to one of the big half marathons, or maybe the Shamrock 8K in Chicago to be held next week. However, we drove through Moab on our way to Flagstaff in December, and I thought that 2024 would be a good year to check this one off the bucket list and to check out the scenic and venerable race (ongoing since 1976).

Training

Training has gone well since the Atlanta 5K last month, with a couple 9-10 hour weeks and a decent mix of tempo runs, a couple of CV sessions, and solid long runs. For the weeks leading up to the race I maintained roughly 9-10 miles a day until last Wednesday. My Wednesday through Friday runs were 7, 5, and 4 miles what I call a cutback (too short for a taper). That’s my standard for a race like this–one you want to do well, but there is not a lot on the line. It is not a race that you want to have much of a taper because you want to save taper for the championship-type races or ones where a time is really important. My final big training session was couple weeks ago when I did 2X 5K on the bike path, averaging about 6:35 per mile. I was hopeful that if I could do that at 5500 feet elevation I could run sub 6:30, maybe 6:25 pace at 4,000 feet on a course with a net downhill.

How’d that work out?

Travel and Pre-Race

Every week this winter we have had a weather system bringing some snow, and usually it has been on the weekends or late in the week. Last week’s weekly snowfall ended up being more than the normal. This was the big one for 2024, if not the decade!

Forecasters predicted 2-4 feet of snow in our area on Thursday. Our plan was to leave on Friday morning, but fearing that if it snowed that much we might not even get out of our parking lot let alone up I-70 and over the passes to Western Colorado and into Utah. So on Tuesday night we made a quick decision to leave on Wednesday morning before the weather turned bad (things were forecast to get ugly by 4 PM, and it would snow for something like 36 hours).

We hit the road at 8:30 on Wednesday and drove to Grand Junction, catching some flurries along the way and a snow squall in Glenwood Canyon. Grand Junction was cool, damp, and breezy, but there was no snow. Meanwhile the Front Range was getting pounded. I-70 was closed by early evening, so good thing we got out when we did.

Storm brewing on the West Slope on Wednesday afternoon.

We arrived in Moab mid-day on Thursday and I had to telework, which did sort of dampen the vacation feel, but it wasn’t so bad.

Thursday midday snowfall totals; it would snow another foot before the storm subsided.

I did a couple easy runs Thursday and Friday. I was not feeling super (legs were a little tight) but otherwise not bad. On Friday I ran an easy out and back from the finish to about mile 11 and then we drove the rest of the course to get a feel for the terrain.

Scoping the spectacular race course on Friday.
Race Day

We got up early on Saturday and I had a couple cups of tea, some coffee (race days are the only day I drink coffee), and a bagel. It was still quite dark, and raining, when the shuttle bus pulled away pulled away from the park, for the 15 mile trek to the start, and it was just getting light when we arrived at the start area at a little after 7:30. So about 40 minutes before the start. I put on my plastic disposable poncho and waited with some friends before embarking on a chilly 0.5 mile warm-up jog.

It was 40 degrees and raining when we started. For attire from head to toe, I wore a baseball cap, a merino wool long sleeve top under my singlet, half tights, longer socks, and my older Vaporfly 2s. I was planning to wear light gloves but they were soaked 10 minutes before the start, so I tossed them in my bag and slapped some gobs of Vaseline to stave off the chill. Clothing worked well. Not 100% sure about the shoes on the wet pavement. This was the first rainy race that I have worn these shoes. I have heard they don’t do as well on slick pavement, who knows.

We lined up in the rainy chill at 8:15 and were off! I was in about the 3rd row in the narrow starting chute (they had a rolling start), and quickly settled into about 25th place, so fairly near the front of the 700 or so starters. We headed east for a half mile, then turned around and down the canyon for the next 12.6 miles. My hands were cold for about the first mile but after that, didn’t give it a thought.

My race plan was to run about 6:30 for the first few miles then to push to run 6:20s for as long as I could hold it, and then maybe close in the 6:10s, for a 1:23-1:24. I was fairly confident I could do that, based on workouts and last month’s 5K which indicated I was in as good as shape as last year when I ran 61 for 10 mile in Sacramento an 1:24 for the half on a hilly course in Syracuse, on a hot day. In hindsight I think I underestimated the Canyonlands course, as well as running at 4000 feet elevation. It was not like running at sea level. Maybe a little easier than in Lakewood or Denver (5200-5500), but was working pretty hard to run my first 3 miles at 6:40 pace (fairly good climb in that second mile).

For the first few miles I ran in a semi-pack of runners, about five or six of us had been strung out over 30 meters or so, three ahead of me 10 or 15 meters and a couple 5 or 10 meters back. Even though the miles weren’t coming easily, after three miles I picked up the effort and pulled away from that group. I set my sights on three runners, also sort of strung out about 5 or 10 meters apart, with the closest about 20 seconds ahead. The footsteps behind faded, and those ahead got a little closer maybe 15 seconds up, as I had picked up the pace to low 6:30s. Each mile was about 10 seconds slower than anticipated. Nevertheless, the effort seemed sustainable, and while I wasn’t gaining ground I wasn’t slowing down or struggling to breathe. Riding the edge, which is what you want to do in a half.

Map of the race route.

The rain had let up after about 15 or 20 minutes of running, but the pavement was still wet. Miles 4, 5, and 6 were fairly flat, with just a few small rises, and probably the easiest running of the day of the day and my splits were 6:30, 6:32, and 6:34. At mile 6 we had completed the horseshoe shaped “Big Bend” part of the course and would head southeast for most of the remainder of the race. Here it got hillier, nothing really radical but a series small hills and drops of 20-40 feet. The gap of runners ahead stayed at about 20-30 seconds and I did not make any progress at closing in. As I passed the aid stations I could hear the runners behind were about 20-30 seconds back. So I was really in a no-man’s land.

I tried to maintain a high tempo and not to overstride, it felt like I was pushing hard but my splits dropped off to 6:40, 6:43, 6:42 from 7 through 9 miles. However, I did notice that two of the runners ahead had come back a little, now they were maybe 15 or 20 seconds ahead. Mile 10 was a net uphill and my slowest of the day at 6:50. Nevertheless, I was gaining on a woman who I presumed was first or second female overall. I caught her just after 10 miles and said good job. She stayed close, only a few meters back. It started to rain again.

By about mile 11 the runner ahead, looked like a masters runner, was struggling a bit. We were shunted off the road and onto the bike path. I gained, very gradually and passed him with just over a mile to go. Soon however, I heard fast footsteps behind–was he or the woman runner coming back? I was hurting pretty bad by this time and just tried to relax. I felt that I was running faster all out and breathing was difficult.

Screen shot with a mile to go.

With about 3/4 of a mile left, a runner from that first group I had been in in the initial 3 miles went by quickly. I matched his stride for as long as I could hold it, maybe a minute, and then eased up a bit. His gap grew, but those behind me were not catching up and I knew I should be able to hold this pace and place to the finish. The footbridge at the mouth of the canyon was less than a quarter mile ahead and I knew the finish line was less that 100 meters after that. On a course with no turns to speak of for 13 miles, we hit a few meandering twists into the parking lot and to the finish. My last three miles were 6:31, 6:39, and 6:27.

The finish time was 1:26:20, about 2 or 2.5 minutes slower than I had hoped. Nevertheless, I finished 19th out of nearly 700 entrants, and was 5th masters (40 and up) and 1st in my age group by 7 minutes. Although I had hoped for a 90% age grade or better, I ran 87.5% (1:06). That was second best for all runners on the day. I can’t really complain about that either.

Post Hoc

Although I did not run the time I had aimed for and was off by 10-12 seconds per mile, I was delighted to have done this race, after wanting to all these years. My self assessment, I am fairly happy with the execution and effort. As planned I ran at a moderate effort for about 3 miles and then tried to pick it up to a pace that I could hold. Three mile splits were 19:56, 19:36, 20:05, and 20:00 and my last mile at 6:27 was the fastest.

I underestimated the course and the altitude. I knew it was a net downhill but only 128 feet, with a lot of rolling hill some taking several minutes to crest. Moreover, 4000 feet of elevation seems low when you live at over 7,000 feet and do most of your training at 5,500-7,400 feet. However, it’s still altitude and unless it’s going downhill you’ll be running 8-10 seconds per mile slower than you would at sea level. That’s physics and physiology, and puts me in roughly 1:24 shape for a sea level half.

To be competitive (into medal shape and to contend for the win) at World Masters next summer I’ll need to improve my fitness and find a way to get those 8-10 seconds per mile because I think it will take a sub 1:21 or 1:22 to win and 1:23 to medal. This was a good test, and a fair appraisal of my current half marathon fitness.

To close, Tamara and I really enjoyed our extended trip to the Colorado River, instead of two days it was four. Although the weather wasn’t perfect, we were glad to get out ahead of the massive snowstorm that dumped 3.5 feet at our place, and up to 5 feet higher up. The canyon was spectacular, Moab was a fun place to visit for a few days, and the race was well managed–I think everything went off without a hitch.

The scene back home three days after the storm.

5K Weekend in the ATL

After what I felt was an off day in Virginia in January, I spent the following month getting ready for the USATF masters 5K in Atlanta. It took another week or so to recover from the 8K and lingering symptoms of a cold. However, workouts went well and I managed to get in some decent training volume.

For the ensuing four week I did one double threshold-type workout on Tuesdays and then repetitions (2-5 minute) on Fridays. The Tuesday morning workout was 4-5 miles of tempo-effort repeats, aiming to be just be low threshold. I started at 4X 6 minutes and built to 6X6 minutes by mid-February. The afternoon session was shorter, maybe just 30-40 minutes total and I did hill reps of 4-6X 1.5 to 2.5 minutes, with a jog down for recovery. The effort for those was a little more, like CV (critical velocity) to V02 max. The Friday workouts on the track ranged from reps of 600 m to 1200 m, or by time if off the track. Those all went pretty well and on paper it seemed I was ready for something in the 19 minute range for an altitude 5K or 18:30 or so at sea level.

Although I racing was at that level for much of 2023, I had seemed to fall way off pace following the Chicago Marathon in October. Three poor cross country races, and an okay showing on the track in Colorado Springs in mid-February did not inspire confidence. The best I could hang onto was a 39:15 10K at sea level three months ago, the 5K equivalent to that is 18:41, and and the altitude -converted equivalent to last week’s 3000 m was 18:52.

Nevertheless, I flew to Atlanta hoping to meet or beat the 18:24 I ran there last year.

Atlanta

Our team plans fell apart over the last week. A pulled hamstring and pneumonia knocked two of our guys out. So it would be just me. After more than a decade of being a strong presence of being a strong presence on the USATF masters circuit–usually a podium finisher–the men’s 60-69 group has not fielded a full team for five consecutive races, with our last team score in June of 2023 at the road mile. Injury, illness, age, and moving on.

So I traveled alone, getting in Thursday evening, which gave all day Saturday to ‘relax’ (I still put in 16,000 steps on Friday, schlepping around the town, the expo/bib pick-up, and jogging the course). And my hotel was noisy all day, with families and kids–something big must have been going on–but fortunately, it all quieted down at 10 PM after they closed the atrium swimming pool!

Race Time

The race was early, 7:40 Atlanta time, which is 5:40 in Colorado. I met some friends at 6:15 in the lobby and the plan was to walk-jog to the start, about 1 or 1.2 miles away. Downtown Atlanta has some quirks, and our route was more of a zig-zag, so by the time we got there it was closer to 2 miles. I only warmed up for 14 or 15 minutes, held my groggy breath in the cool morning air (46 degrees and breezy), and we were off.

Mid-packing it off the start line (the John Glidewell is the runner on the right in the Atlanta Track Club singlet). Photo by John Blaser.

I had lined up in about the 4th row from the front, and got bumped a bit and immediately swallowed up by a dozen or so runners. That first stretch was the worst of the race, my chief rivals (all from the Atlanta Track Club) were in front a few meters and it was crowded. Although I stayed on my feet I did not feel good, and was wondering if had made a mistake to travel all that way for a mediocre race.

We made the first turn onto a narrow side street that climbed at about a 5% grade for a quarter mile. I kind of dreaded this, but held my ground right behind Ken who was in my age group and I figured we would be fighting for 2nd and 3rd place figuring that Glidewell was already a ways ahead. After the top of that hill there was a little zig zag with couple of tight turns as we turned onto a long straight stretch on Walker Street. It had a gentle climb. At the first slight downhill, just before the mile I picked it up and never looked back. Another Atlanta runner in the next age class down was 5-6 seconds up, so I focused on keeping up with him. I split the mile in 6:00, not bad for a 60 net gain. I never did catch the other Atlanta but kept the gap between 5 and 10 seconds. We made a hairpin, near 180 degree turn onto Peters Street and then it got fun because we were now going downhill. I was able to stride out and pass some runners.

I was probably about 50th place at the mile and by 3K (officially 11:13 but I think it was more like 11:05-11:10) I was in 44th. There was a pack just ahead, and as we made the turn back west with a little over a mile to go I surged to stay close, so they’d block the headwind on that long uphill (another 60 feet over about a half mile). So I tucked in and if someone passed I go with them. There were about 6 of us in that group. As we passed the giant Mercedes Stadium the course flattened before a nice downhill. Most of the last half mile was downhill. I started surging–and was happy to have the energy to do so! Best I had felt in a race since September.

Back past the start area, with about 400 to go before the finish I held on, and after making the penultimate turn, with about 250 m remaining I poured it on. At the final turn I caught one more runner, from ATC, and sprinted for the final 80 meters.

Sprinting home, just before the final turn, 100 meters to go.

He did catch me back, but I finished in 18:23, for 2nd in my age group behind Glidewell and a 91% age grade. Best result in nearly a year.

The race could hardly have gone better. Yeah, sure winning the age group would have been better but I can’t compete with a 94.5% age grade. I got 2nd in the age group and 3rd in age grading, enough to bring home $300 from USATF.

Afterwards I hung around with John my former college teammate, and other friends including the four guys from the club’s 70+ team, who chalked up another win.

With the BRR 70s team, Jan, Rick, Doug, and Bruce.

One of these days, we’ll hopefully get back together to field some competitive age group teams.

Indoor Track at High Altitude: Out of the Comfort Zone

I never really loved indoor track, although when I ran in college there were some exciting moments. As a freshman I won my heat in the 600 yard dash at our conference meet, after two guys got tangled and fell and I hurdled one of them as he was sprawled on the track. The next year I ran my first ever 2 mile and won! I only ran three seasons as an undergrad maybe 15 meets total. And only race twice since then, in 1981 just after graduating and in 1991.

In other words, I’d rather be skiing!

My 2024 ski endeavors have been a wash with bad snow or bad weather, getting sick, a winter race schedule, and other things popping up. I think in the future I’ll get into more skiing.

I will be racing the USATF masters 5K on the roads next week, and at last month’s cross country championship I really felt my lack of speed, 6:20 pace felt like a sprint and my competitors just pulled away easily on that 8K course. So I have added a bit of speedwork to prepare for that 5K and decided to cap it off by running a double at the USATF Mid-America regional championship in Colorado Springs. The meet was slated for the relatively new indoor facility at the University of Colorado-Colorado Springs (UCCS) on Sunday (elevation 6250 feet). I figured that would have some effect on the my speed but I live at over 7000 feet and train mostly at about 5500-6000 feet, so figured that wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.

However, on Friday there was a shooting on the campus, two people were killed, and the university cancelled all activities for the weekend, including the race. That’s a terrible thing. Not the cancellation, but the shooting.

The USATF organizers moved quickly and the near Air Force Academy (AFA) agreed to host the meet at their venerable track, set at 7075 feet on the beautiful campus situated next to the foothills. That’s amazing that USATF was able to make that happen in just a matter of ours. The only real downside was the elevation difference and the Academy’s notedly old track. So I knew each race would be a grind.

First up, the 3000. My goal for the UCCS track was to run around 11:00-11:10, although I figured that might be a stretch, my last 3000 (outdoors in Boulder at 5300 feet) in 2021, was only an 11:09. But I’m an optimist and felt I could click off 44-45 second laps and make it happen with a good kick at the end. That would put me near the top fastest age group times in the world for the 2023-24 season even at altitude.

My friend David Westenberg ran 10:32 in December and while I wouldn’t be close to that, an 11:00 would compare favorably with a conversion factor to 10:36. Close at least.

3000 Meters 11.2 laps

Seventeen runners were entered and with a couple scratches 15 lined up, five women and ten men. They lined the women up on the inside lanes. With a seed off 11, I was on the far outside, so rather than that I lined up behind the two fastest looking guys.

The AFA track is an odd 268 meters, with long straights and tight curves, exactly 6 laps per mile. With the higher elevation I figured 60-61 per lap would keep me in the 11:15 range, so not too far off my original goal.

The gun fired and I immediately dropped to about 12th place. We strung out and I tried to relax, although I had the thought of just sprinting out to run with the leaders for a couple laps. I knew that would end up being rather painful so kept my head.

Off the line, near the back (Lane 1 Photos)

2nd lap pondering my sanity to run an indoor meet at 7000′

The first lap was right at 60, so not bad, then 2:02, 3:02, 4:03. I picked off a few runners in the early laps and there was a big gap (80 meters up to the next two). Split the mile at about 6:05-06 and was actually feeling pretty good. But on the 7th and 8th laps I could feel the effort increasing and I slowed to 62s-63s through lap 10. I did through down my best kick over the last lap and was under 60. And crossed in 11:27. It was a positive split, but I’m not disappointed to finish in 6:08.9/mile pace, which would be 5K goal pace at 5280 feet in Denver or Boulder.

Dead Last in the Last Mile

Not as ominous it sounds, but this was the last race on the old track at the AFA Field House. They are going to shut it down next year and build a new track, no doubt a banked 200 m oval that will have a state-of-the-art surface. It will certainly be faster than the current version. Maybe I’ll give it a shot in another 30 or 40 years. Maybe not!

After a 10 minute cool down I relaxed for a couple hours in the infield and tried to track some cross country ski World Cup results online, from races taking place in Minneapolis.

In the afternoon I warmed up outside for another 10-12 minutes and did a few pick ups. Eleven runners had signed up for the mile, but the attrition rate was pretty high and only six of us lined up. I was the oldest by 15 years and it showed. The other five runners gapped me immediately and I ran the entire race far off the pace. For this one I just wanted to run relaxed for the first couple of laps and then bring the pace down. I was hoping for 5:45 or so, but would be happy with a 5:50 considering the double and the elevation.

It pretty much went according to plan, as I was just under 2:00 after two laps, 3:57 at four laps, and with about 300 meters to go I started my version of a kick, covering the last lap in about 56 to finish dead last in 5:51.4. My slowest track mile on record (by 16 seconds, I ran a 5:35 at the Mile High Mile in 2021, 5:42 on the road at the Carnation Mile in 2022). That’s okay, I got what I wanted out of it.

Vexed Again in Cross Country

Recent Past 2013 – 2021

I have had a good run over the past decade of masters/senior competition at the national level in road races and cross country. It all started in 2013 with the USATF Club Cross Country Championships in Bend, OR. After a decade in Alaska I ventured to the lower 48 for an attempt at a national title. Going in I thought I could medal, but it wasn’t even close. I was 6th in the men’s 55-59 age group, and a good ways off the podium. However, the fire was lit and less than a year later I had moved back to my home state of Colorado. The reasons for the move were financial, but also to live in a better winter climate. The skiing was great but months of darkness and weeks of -40s or -30s, with a 6 month winter had been enough and we needed a change.

Cross country has been my favorite, since my first season as a college runner in 1977. I scored top a couple top 5s (2015 and 2017) and several podium finishes including a 2nd and 3rd at Club Cross Country in 2018 and 2021, and a 2nd at US Nationals in 2019. That was followed a couple months later with a 3rd at the World Masters cross country championships in 2019. So that four year span from 2017 to 2021 were really good, and I came to expect a medal at national meets.

Since 2021, however, things have taken a step back in cross country and I have not been competing at the level I would like. Maybe some bad luck and bad timing, but maybe also fitness.

In 2022, I felt really I had a great chance for a medal at the US Masters cross country championships in Boulder, but came down with and ill-timed cold virus just four days before the race. I held onto 4th place for about 2.5 miles but faded to 6th over the final stretch and that was my worst finish at a national championship since 2015.

A couple months later (five weeks after a marathon) I finished way back in 14th at Club XC in San Francisco. However, there were some mitigating factors. Coming off the marathon I was not sharp, and age 64 that was my final race in the age group. It also happened to be the best field ever for the age group at any race. There were Hall of Famers and world or national record holders finishing out of the top 5 or 10! That was just a crazy day in hurricane winds and driving rain and sort of an anomaly. Nevertheless, no excuses the results stand.

2023 and 2024 the Struggle Continues

The types of woes that struck me in 2022 have continued in 2023 and now 2024. I did not do US Nationals last January and instead skied and trained back home. I also skipped the 5K masters championships which were held in Florida on the same weekend as the Chicago Marathon. I wasn’t at all disappointed to miss that (93 degree heat index), we had perfect weather for Chicago.

Three weeks later after the marathon, probably against good judgment, I wanted to get back to cross country and entered a 4K in Boulder, and that was a disaster, as my heart rate spiked to 95% after just a kilometer and I struggled to run 6:45 pace (not much faster than marathon goal effort) for 2.5 miles of agony on an unseasonably cold morning. I simply was not recovered. Two weeks following that disaster I ran the Colorado USATF championship and although it went better than the 4K, I could not break 20 for the rolling 5K, and was significantly slower on the same course than the previous year when I was sick. It felt like I was breathing through a straw. I did win my age group, but got beat by people I am normally well ahead of.

I opted out of Club XC, held in Florida (again), and decided to do US Nationals in January, figuring that an extra six weeks of training time would be better following what had been a long, but largely successful 2023. I figured I would be a shoe-in for a medal in Richmond and might actually feel disappointed if I didn’t win. I knew the guys lining up and felt I could beat them.

However, I do respect my competitors and know that you can’t take anything for granted. I won three road titles last year but on each of those days I was at 100%. And to tell the truth, running cross country is more difficult than the roads, and the competition tends to be stronger and deeper at most cross country championships. Runners like to show up to these championship races at their best.

The Lead Up and the Race

I hadn’t raced since the Thanksgiving Day fun run 10K, where I ran decently on a cold blustery day in Wisconsin in a 39:15. It was a great way to close out 2023. And it was a few seconds faster than the time co-favorite David Westenberg had run earlier in the year. I was also pretty happy with the last two months of training for the year, building to 60+ miles and in December I mixed in a few days of XC skiing and spin cycling. The base-build was on.

Things kind of dropped off after Christmas, however. We were supposed to ski on our New Years trip to Flagstaff, but there was no snow so instead of three out of five or six days on the snow I got none, and while I maintained running that week I did have to cut back to about 55 miles. I got in a solid workout at 7200 feet in Flagstaff, CV effort in the 6:30s and was pretty happy with that.

And a few days later, back in Colorado I had a good progression effort, and felt that if I can run 25 minutes of reps in the 6:20s-30s at altitude I should be able to run 6:15-20 at sea level. Right?

Then I got sick. I picked up a bug on our return trip on the 1st or 2nd of January, and by the weekend I was having trouble wit breathing. I took off two days completely and ran just 3-4 miles a day for three more days. Fortunately it wasn’t Covid. Just a cruddy chest cold that ended up more as a head cold after the first few days. I took it easy until Friday the 12th, when temps dropped to sub zero, and got in a good weekend of treadmill sessions with tempo, long run, and CV reps on Friday, Saturday, and Monday (MLK Day). Although I was still having to clear my throat all week (and into race weekend) I was feeling pretty good on those workouts and on the recovery days.

I lined up on the cold blustery morning at Pole Green Park confident that I could run well under 6:20/mile for the 8K race. I was nervous, but also relaxed, like let’s bring this on and see what everyone’s got!

I darted off the line quickly for 50 meters, and settled into my pace. The lead pack swallowed me up quickly, before the course narrowed by 600 meters.

It was a little tight through those early turns, and I was already breathing hard. I could see two of my rivals, Ken Youngers and David Westenberg pull away, by a km the already had 10 seconds on me, and I knew then that this was going to be a tougher than expected outing. I was running 6:15-20 pace and it felt like 6:00, as my heart was racing and I was breathing hard. They were already pulling out of sight by the first lap at 2K, I might have seen David’s bright green hat bobbing but he had 20 seconds on me by then and knew I wasn’t going to catch him.

Hit rock bottom emotionally at 3K when Tim Conheady in my age group passed assertively as I mumbled to myself (somewhat audibly), “this just not my day”. Tim broke away and had put on 8-10 seconds by the half way split, as I really struggled with that part of the loop with a few hills and headwind. He stayed 10-15 seconds up the rest of the way.

It seemed to gain on a few stretches but would hit a bad patch and his lead maintained.

I threw down a hard kick over the final 300, into the wind, and bent over almost throwing up as I crossed the line, just passing an injured Ken who had thrown out his back after a stellar 4 miles.

For a while I thought I might have finished 3rd and on the podium but it was not to be, as a runner (unknown on the USATF masters circuit) from the local VA region was just behind David for the silver medal. Tim was 12 seconds ahead of for third, and I was 4th, Ken 5th crossing just a second back.

That was a very good field, perhaps best ever for a USATF championship at our age group.


My mile splits were approximately 6:18, 6:25, 6:31, 6:38, 6:27, which is about on par with what I might do on a tempo run at Crown Hill Park at 5500 feet elevation. So yeah, I’m a little disappointed. Looking at my heart rate, it shot up to the high 150s by 1/3 of a mile (at about 6:10 pace), and 160 just before 2K. 160 is not sustainable for more than a couple minutes for me.

So bottom line, maybe not quite recovered from that cold, plus overall fitness–that ability to sustain a hard effort–is not quite where it needs to be for to compete for a title at a national championship event. I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t fight a little harder for that thirds spot, but he passed and gapped me at just the right time and if I had fought and faded I would have finished 5th instead of 4th. You have to live with those decisions.

My work over the next two months is cut out pretty well: Get healthy (stay healthy! No colds), get stronger with a string of 8 to 10 hour weeks, and get comfortable running some reps at sub 6 pace for 2-4 minutes in workouts.

20 Years a Comeback: Part 2

After hitting rock bottom in 2002 and 2003, which ended with a tonsillectomy and about eight weeks of no running, I gradually made my way back in 2004. However, by January and February I was running pain free up to four or five times a week. Most of the runs were short, in the 3-5 mile range, but I felt good. As tough as it was to get those tonsils pulled, a bonus was I felt that I could breathe deeper, get in more with each intake and exhale more. That may or may not have occurred at a significant level but breathing sure did feel easier, not to mention not having those perennially sore and pocked tonsils in my throat.

In February I did my first ever snow shoe race at Eldora, and cross country skied a couple 10K skate races–my first ski races since 2002. I was nowhere near top shape but it was great to be huffing and puffing at 8,500 to 9500 feet elevation!

Late in the month my boss walked with me across the CSU campus and asked if I would be interested in moving to Fairbanks, Alaska as an environmental planner. The incumbent had recently left the position and they were looking to fill it. Think about it, he said.

I did not take him that seriously, but mentioned to my wife and kids over dinner that night. We kind of laughed it off. Her parents and my mom lived in the Denver area, less than 90 minutes away, and we figured we would be staying in Colorado for years to come.

A few weeks later, my boss brought up the transfer again. This time less in passing, in fact he was direct. The environmental project that we had worked on for two-and a-half years was wrapping up, and at that time there were no big projects on the horizon. The Alaska job would be more stable, if not indefinite. Our client, the US Army Alaska would need a couple of planners on its staff just for day-to-day operations. He could not guarantee a long-term stable position in Fort Collins, but the Fairbanks position was there for the taking. He sweetened the offer which would give me a substantial raise, plus cost of living, to move to Fairbanks with my family. He offered to fly me up there to talk to my co-workers, whom I had already worked with for a couple of years and knew fairly well, and suggested that I bring Tamara along. So we took a late March trip to the north.

It was a record breaking 82 degrees F when we boarded our jet from Denver to Seattle, then Fairbanks. We arrived at 2 AM amid light snowfall and -26 F in Fairbanks. I thought no way, would she want to spend any more time in the north than this four day trip. However, we explored the area, contacted a realtor and looked at houses, and went to dinner with the co-workers. They really wanted me to move up and work with them. By the second day we were sold on the idea. A huge step to make when you are in your 40s and have two kids in school.

Spring Racing 2004

By late March I was running five or six days a week and picked up a copy of Pete Pfitzinger’s Road Racing for Serious Runners, and decided to do the Colorado Half Marathon in May. I had been running consistently for three months and had built up to 40 miles a week. I had not run a half marathon in five years, and in fact had only done one other half in the previous 15 years! I knew I could finish, but figured I would be well off my altitude best of 1:13, as well as the 1:19 I had run five years prior.

I built up to 50 miles a week, more or less following the plan and in April did a 5K and 5 mile tune race, about two weeks apart. Although I was well off the times I had been running in 1998-2000 (sub 17, low 28 respectively) it was great to line up healthy and to see what I could do. I ran 18:13 for the 5K in Loveland. And then at the 5 mile Cherry Creek Sneak (once a seasonally huge race in Denver, with 20,000 participants racing three distances) I ran just over 29 minutes and placed in my new age group.

At the half in May, I knew I wasn’t yet ready for prime time racing, but gave it my best shot. I ended up running just under 1:22 and placed third in the masters division, which was a surprise because northern Colorado boasted a deep contingent and this was one of the biggest springtime races in the area.

Although I have done a ton of racing in the years since, including huge races and national or international races, still have that plaque and it sits on the top of my bedroom bookshelf signifying my comeback.

North to Alaska

A few days later I loaded my car with gear and a bunch of scientific journals that I had collected in 1990s (I still had some hope then of returning as a research biologist), and drove up to Alaska. After a few weeks I flew back and picked up the family and we drove north together.

I kept up my running, but scaled back and missed a lot of days, maybe doing only 25-30 miles a week. Just a week after after arriving back in our new home of Fairbanks I entered the Midnight Sun Run, Alaska’s biggest race, with some 4,000 participants. I expected something like Bolder Boulder, which was 10X as large, but the Midnight Sun Run, starting at 10 PM on the summer solstice weekend, was more like a mini-version of Bay to Breakers.

I did not expect much out of myself competitively, maybe a top 15 or 20/ After just 2 miles I found myself in the top 10, and by 4 miles I was fighting for a top 5! I ended up finishing 6th place and as first masters in about 36:50. My first age group win in five years.

The running club there held a seven race series every year and I jumped into the track mile (5:08), another half marathon, this one mostly off-road (1:22), and a tortuous 16.5 mile race that dropped 1800 feet on trails and back roads. I made some new friends in the masters running community and all they could talk about was Boston Marathon–which they had done many times each, running 2:40 into their 40s–and the upcoming Equinox Marathon in Fairbanks, it was Alaska’s oldest and toughest marathon with 18 miles off road and trails, about 8 miles on pavement, and 3,300 feet of elevation gain and loss. Totally gnarly, and a Fairbanks institution.

Over the summer, despite huge historic forest fires (over 5 million acres in Alaska burned that summer), I was able to build to 70 miles for couple weeks and was in the 55-65 miles per week range for more than two months. I been on some hilly back-country long runs, up to 23 miles.

It was in this summer that I decided that I would not back down from training and racing in the future. Both of the long-term injuries I had endured in my late 30s and mid-40s had followed an extended break from training, although I had run some I had only done minimal miles. In the future I vowed that unless I had to ease up due to injury or illness, they’d have to drag me away kicking and screaming from running.

I also changed my approach. Rather than a modified Daniels with two or three quality workouts on an otherwise mid-mileage week (50 had been the standard for more than 15 years) I embraced the easy lopes on forest trails and roads, with usually just one workout a week. But even then, I found Pfitz’s quality workouts to be a little too taxing. I did his 9 miles of tempo at half marathon pace and 14 at marathon pace in an 18 mile run, but recovery was slow from those efforts.

The work paid off for the Equinox, as I finished top 5 overall, and ran 3:12 on a very cold morning (never even got much above freezing).

The rest of the way

We spent nearly 11 great years in Alaska. I ran the Midnight Sun Run 10 times, winning my age group each one. I did the local series at least six times, and never won it but had several top fives, and ran the Equinox five times, winning my age group on four of those occasions (the time I didn’t win it was a big deal, the times I did win it wasn’t–local personalities and such came into play), and I set an age or age group record on each of those races.

Plus I skied as much as anyone could want. In fact, I think by 2014 I’d had enough and had carried the skiing as far as I desired. It was time to move on with work and sport.

I moved back to Colorado at the end of 2014 and Tamara followed six months later while our younger son was finishing high school. Moving back to altitude, with better weather, allowed for more consistent year-round training. The skiing became a cross-training add-on just 15 times or so a year. For the most part, I have stayed healthy (save a very painful shoulder injury and surgery). I have run in nearly 30 USATF national road and cross country championships, dozens of local races, and several top tier road races across the country, including Boston and Chicago Marathons, the Lilac Bloomsday, Bix 7, Utica Boilermaker, as well as the World Masters half marathon and 8K cross country.

Career-wise it was a good move (for the most part), and definitely for running.

I have run about 45,800 miles from the beginning of 2004 through 2023, and have put in over 100,000 miles in my lifetime. I haven’t really wrapped my head around that one yet!

In 20 years?

Can I keep running? How long? Will I keep racing and training? I can’t answer these, but hope to keep it going for as long as I can and as long as I enjoy the grind.

20 Years a Comeback: Part I

This is partly recycled from a few years ago when I chronicled my earlier running path over the decades and phases of my life. However, I am revisiting the story because it has now been 20 years since I found my way back to running and racing following several years of injury and unfortunate events.

Y2K The Crumbling

First, I guess you have go back 25 years. After four years of steady decline, I enjoyed a nice resurgence at age 40. I built a base and stayed healthy and managed to achieve my primary goal that year of breaking 4:40 in the mile, and beating the local favorite in the Amherst, MA Masters Mile that summer. And for the next two years things went pretty well, I ran a marathon, won my age at Bolder Boulder in 2000, ran dozens of races, and stayed healthy. Until I didn’t.

By late spring of 2000 I was nearing the end of the second year of a post doctoral research fellowship with the USDA in my hometown of Fort Collins, CO. Everything seemed to be going great. The research was interesting and rewarding, and I was actually getting paid a decent wage for the first time in my career. We had one kid getting ready for kindergarten, and another precociously about to start pre-school before turning 3.

I was just wrapping up a spring of racing highlighted with a 27:13 8K at the Drake Relays road race and winning my age a month later at the huge Bolder Boulder on perhaps the hottest day ever for the race.

I was enjoying my post doc, doing research on bird repellents and bird behavior. I had a couple of publications and was just setting up for a new three-dimensional phase of the research in the lab. However, I found that there would be a gap in funding and no guarantee that that the project would even continue. With a family to support I had to take an offer with a nearby private company specializing wildlife toxicology and disease.

There were parallels, and the CEO, Dick, promised that I would be able to continue with the repellent research. So, with some trepidation, I took what was seemed to be effectively a lateral transfer into the private sector.

I hated it immediately.

Looking back I could have gone back to the USDA to finish the final three months and to apply for the extension to the fellowship. I definitely should have but I decided to make the best of the new situation, with the hope it would get better. I was a Ph.D. with years of experience, but they immediately put me under the wing of 25 year old woman with a B.S. degree and a bad attitude toward men. She did get canned after a number of months, but even then things hardly improved. Within two weeks the CEO told me to stop thinking about doing any of my previous research, that my time was all his now. And so it went for 15 months.

After some 12 years of being fairly independent at work, doing my job without someone breathing down my neck, I had lost control of my destiny as a scientist, and I had to do what they said and they way they said to do it. My stress levels were off the charts, and within a month of starting my new job I was a basket case.

I continued to run but by the end of summer my knees were bothering me on every outing and I was not doing quality workouts. Maybe 30 miles a week, mostly just running. I jumped into a couple track races and and 5Ks over the summer, and in the fall I did run two cross country races. However, my body was rebelling due to stress, poor sleep, and general unhappiness with what my career had turned into. The running suffered, my mile time that August was 6 seconds slower than the previous year, and by fall I was running 5K a good 30 seconds compared to what I had done in early summer, before making the switch.

In spite of the decline in performance, running was a good stress release and I frequently took my lunch hour (timed to the minute) by going out for a 4-6 mile run on dirt roads near the lab. Although that was a relief, my knees hurt on every run.

2001 was no better, and actually worse on my knees. I stepped back even more on training over the winter and focused on work and family. I’d get out a few times a week and got in some cross country skiing on weekends. I had gained about 10 pounds over the previous year, and ran Bolder Boulder off of 20 miles a week, running two and a half minutes slower than the exceedingly hot day of 2000 (fitness-wise close to a 3 minute drop). Over the summer I did improve somewhat, but could only muster a 37:40 at the Colorado Run (more than two minutes slower than I had done a couple years earlier).

Within months of starting that job I started making applications for other jobs. In the end I had helped bring in over $200K in grant money to the lab, and the agreement had been to raise about half of that in a year. At the time I did not know that the grant money had already been awarded to the lab, but after 15 months of unhappy tenure there, Dick the CEO brought me into his office and laid me off, saying that I had not done enough for the grant writing, saying with a straight face, “We have hit an economic downturn, due to 9/11,” (this was just two weeks later) and he added. “You just didn’t get the job done.”

Actually Dick, I did get the job done. You were just a greedy and deceitful psychopath.

Although it was a huge relief to be away from that company and its toxic atmosphere (he had fired about a third of the professional employees in my time there) there was some damage. Two weeks later, while I was still waiting for the first unemployment checks to keep our family afloat, a former coworker drove up to a local race with a new car. Another part of the deal when I first signed on was that I was to get 7% of the grants as a bonus. The coworkers got the bonus, I didn’t.

Fortunately, I landed a new job at Colorado State University within a couple of months and we did not have to move.

2002-2003 Knees Are Shot

In 2001 I hit a career rock bottom. For the better part of 20 years I had worked to be a research biologist, working as a technician, getting a masters, working in the field and as a research associate at a major university, years getting a doctorate, and scrambling as a post doc. I felt I had been on the cusp for several years, but the other side of that was an abyss.

I took the first job that was offered, it was a down grade really, as an environmental policy/writer position. But it would pay the bills and ultimately lead to a more stable, (usually) less stressful lifestyle. No more paper chase, get grants, and publish or start over. I still have some regrets about making this shift in mid-40s, and do miss the excitement of doing research (sometimes it was drudgery, particularly the publish part).

Nevertheless, at the end of 2001 I embarked on a new career path, but I soon moved up, getting a team lead position after just a few months on the job. However, my running had yet to hit the bottom.

Sometime around the end of the year, I was on an easy but snowy 45 or 50 minute run along the foothills and I twisted my foot on a slippery rock. I heard something go pop but it not hurt that much until I got home. That injury to my posterior tibialis only compounded the knee problems. While recovering from the twisted foot I spent some time in the gym and did some leg weights, thinking that would build up my quads and ease the knee pain.

After a couple weeks, and cross country skiing while on my first work trip to Alaska, I resumed some easy running. Maybe 10 days later on a blustery January day I decided to hit the track and a set of 200s at a moderate effort, maybe starting at around 40 seconds and bring it down to 36 or so. Not that hard, starting at about 3K race effort and finishing at mile/1500 pace. On last repetition two, in the set of eight, my knees tightened up and got sore.

That little session pretty much ended running for nearly a year and a half. Actually, it wasn’t just that session. The prior year and a half of personal stress, unaddressed knee problems, and the tendon tear to set it up.

I rested and waited for three weeks with not much improvement, so I went to the orthopedist, who was getting up in years but had been world renowned in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s. His first response was that maybe I should give up running and take up kayaking–which was sort of funny, he had said much the same in 1984 when I visited the same clinic for a lingering hip/piriformis issue.

His advice was to take NSAIDS for a few weeks, ice it every day, and come back in four to six weeks if it doesn’t get better. I followed two out of three but forgot to schedule another appointment. So I just spent half a year before going back in. I just stopped running, and did little bit of light skiing, and some cycling or swimming. Passively biding my time with the hope that things would improve. I would try to run a little bit, but not regularly, maybe 20-30 minutes here and there, and my foot and knees did not improve much.

When I finally did go back, the doctor was incredulous that I hadn’t been in sooner. He prescribed some anti-inflammatory medications and up to 12 weeks of PT, which I did in two bouts a couple months apart.

The PT helped some, but only marginally. By the end of 2002 I had run maybe 200 miles, the lowest since high school, and gained the 10 pounds I had lost in the summer of 2001.

After a year of not being able to run I still followed the sport, but now as a fan. I missed it and there was no end in sight.

Much of 2003 was a blur with work and family life. Every two months I would have a one or two week trip to Alaska, and the land was growing on me. My co-worker (and tormentor) Pat had grown up in Anchorage and thought his hometown was great, the cosmopolitan epitome of the state. The Interior and Fairbanks, where I was spending half my time, were the desolate pits. But I found the openness and big sky of Fairbanks to be somewhat appealing.

In 2002 and 2003 I got most of my exercise by bike commuting. It was 6 miles to the campus and our office. It would take 18-20 minutes to get there, mostly by bike path, in the morning. With a 200 foot elevation gain back home, my ride on the return was more like 25 or 30 minutes. I rode in 3-4 days a week, as long as the weather was good. On weekends I rode on the back roads and trails in the foothills for an hour or two. The running was not coming around but cycling actually felt pretty good.

Over a couple weekends in the spring of 2003 I did some long hill climbs with a runner friend who also did some cycling. I left him in the dust on the climbs and he encouraged me to give cycling a try. I was not planning on hard core mountain biking or road cycling, but checked the race schedule and found some summer hill climbs at the ski areas, 5K to 8K and climbing 800 to 1000 meters. My debut would be in mid-June at Winter Park.

At about that time I had two friends, from out of town and completely separately ask the same question almost word for word.

“So it looks like you’re done for good with running?”

I was disappointed to hear them ask that but seeing how I had hardly been able run for 17 months, I can see why.

My friend Tim, the second person to ask, had just traveled from Oregon run Bolder Boulder as a destination/bucket list race. Coming from sea level he thought the event was incredibly difficult, if not horrific. I had a couple beers with him and his wife as we swapped stories. The next day, slightly hung over from the two pints (they were strong pints I might add). I went out for a ride to Horsetooth Mountain, it was a 2000 foot ascent from our place, with the last 3 miles climbing some 1500 feet on a steep trail.

Near the top, at about 7000 feet of elevation, there was a particularly steep pitch on the rocky trail. I stalled and couldn’t get my foot out of the clip fast enough and fell over, cracking my wrist. I was in a cast for 6 weeks, thus ending a mountain biking hill climbing career that never began.

Now what?

I said the heck with that, and started running again. Just easy miles at first but jumped into the Father’s Day 5K in Fort Collins. My kids ran the 0.5K fun run and had a blast. With my blue cast I ran a 19 minute and finished with a smile.

The road back was not smooth. I ran about 20 miles a week, and some days my knees were okay, but then they’d ache for a few days and I would have to rest or cross train. I did a couple 5Ks that summer, running an 18:26 at sea level in Anchorage, now 2 minutes slower than I had done three years prior and an 18:30 back in Denver, a slight improvement if you account for the mile-high elevation. After three or four months of running, I wasn’t back but feeling better.

At work things were heating up as we were preparing our revisions for an environmental impact statement. We had a big week-long meeting in Fort Collins with government agencies, and that was the most stressful week since I had started. I got home that weekend and had a sore throat, and my defective-pock-marked tonsils were swelling. So I went to the doctor, thinking it was strep throat. I tested negative and the doctor sent me home. Overnight my tonsil grew to the size of a ping-pong ball, nearly closing my throat. I had to go to the ER and have the abscess drained, with no anesthesia. That was the most painful minute in my life!

I had to stop running, and had my tonsils removed two weeks later. In early November. Having your tonsils taken out at age 45 is rough. I had to isolate at home for 15 days. I couldn’t eat any solid food and could barely sip a warm or cold drink, jello and ice cream were the only caloric foods I could take in.

Fortunately, the work schedule was not too hectic after my extended break. I was able to start running about a week before Christmas. I had lost about 10 or 12 pounds following the surgery, and an added bonus was that I felt without the tonsils partially obstructing my throat I could take more air with each inhale. On New Years Day I ran a local 5K in just under 19 minutes. I had no base but felt pretty good. I did not know it but that was the beginning of my comeback.

Looking back it’s interesting that it took a fall off my bike and a middle-aged tonsillectomy to get back on track for running.

A Turkey Wrap To Go

Racing in 2023 is a now a wrap, on Thursday I did the Berbee Derby 10K in Madison, WI with our son and future daughter-in-law. It was all good.

After Chicago I made the decision to pass on December’s USATF Club Cross Country championships in Tallahassee, FL in favor of doing the Thanksgiving race in Madison. This will be the third US championship in four years, fourth in five years. I went twice, in 2019 for US Nationals and 2021 for Club XC. Let’s change the venue!

Also, our team was at best lukewarm to travel and we may or may not have even been able to field a team, let alone one to match our victory in 2021. Enthusiasm for the BRR men’s 60+ is at an all-time ebb. Maybe with a little nudging and enthusiasm we could have put together a solid team, but no one else was chiming in, so I just let that one lie and decided to visit family and have some fun with a sea-level 10K.

Recovery from Chicago was tougher than I thought, with one disastrous (three weeks post-marathon) and one fairly mediocre (five weeks after Chicago) foray with local cross country. However, I did get in some solid weeks of training including those races, with 60 mile weeks and some decent tempo runs and repetition efforts (8K-10K effort). I was hoping for 38 or under, but as last week rolled around I kind of felt 38-39 might be more realistic especially since the forecast was for colder weather.

We flew out to Madison on Tuesday evening and had a nice 4 mile shakeout run at the Pheasant Branch Conservancy just outside of Madison on Wednesday. The rest of the day was spent doing some errands and getting ready for Thanksgiving. We did go to a brewery for a beer. I typically don’t drink on the day before a race, but this being the end of the year and on a holiday why not.

Race Day

At least it was not as cold as forecast a few days earlier (they were calling for a low of 18 and high of about 30 on Thanksgiving), but it was still fairly chilling at 32 F with a 10-12 mph wind out of the northwest. But it was sunny, and as long as you were moving it wasn’t too bad.

Did a 15 minute warm up with Mikko and his fiancee McCaleb, and we discussed our race strategies. I planned to go out in about 6:15-20, run the middle miles strong and just see what would be left for the hilly final two miles. Mikko said he’d go in about 6:30 and try to pick it up. McCaleb said she planned for 7:00 pace.

How did it go?

The first turn was only 100 meters after the start, and I took it cautiously in the back of that first wave (sub 7 pace) of a 100 or so runners. We made the turn and I checked my watch to see about 6:00 pace, so I eased up and Mikko took off. He pulled away steadily. I was probably in 50-60th place through most of the first mile, a gap formed as we headed north on Fish Hatchery Road into the wind and rather than lead a group of runners who might be slowing up, I surged a bit to catch the tail end of that group. Mikko was 6:05 and moving up (that would be his slowest mile split of the day) and I was 12 seconds back in 6:17.

That was on a net downhill, but into a headwind. I guess where I should have been, although at the time it felt a little quick. My breathing was in control, however, as we turned south in the 2nd mile and ran past the fish hatchery. We had a couple risers just before 2 miles and I backed off on those, not wanting to dig into my oxygen reserves too early, 2nd mile was 6:22. My thought was can I hold this for another 25 or so minutes? Mikko was out of sight by the end of the second mile, and I was in a no-man’s land. One guy had passed me in mile two and I passed a couple. But for the next three miles I was pretty much on my own with a single runner some 50 meters ahead and I could hear no one from behind.

On the bike path, and the flattest part of the course, miles 3 and 4 went by smoothly in 6:13 and 6:15. I felt pretty good, but kept my effort in check knowing there would be some hills in the fifth and sixth miles. We turned onto Syena Road just before the 4 mile marker and had our first real climb, a 45 foot hill over about 0.2 mile. It was over fairly quickly, and I eased up a little–2 miles left is still a long ways to go in a 10K.

Then I heard voices. A lot of chatter from maybe 40 meters back. I think they must have started in the 7:00 wave and were doing this a progression run. They were talking it up, and I actually looked back, cursing them slightly for I was on the edge and they’re having a lively conversation. And gaining.

They caught me at about mile 5 (6:18), but by then the chatter had quieted some. Looked like high school-aged boys and either their coach or a father of one of them. I hung on for a bit, but they were going sub 6 pace and I wasn’t able to sustain that.

The last mile would be the toughest. The biggest hill had about 50 feet of gain over 0.3, with the middle part at a 6% or 6.5% grade. I really had to slow my roll there, and might have lost a place or two. At the crest my stomach started turning inside out and I heaved a couple times. It took about 30 seconds of easier running to regroup. Over this stretch I was passing a couple runners, a couple would pass me.

We had two short (0.1) rollers over the last half mile, Tamara was at the bottom of the last hill (0.3 to go) cheering us on. I crested that rise and hit 6 miles just before making the final turn (6:28 mile). With the last 350 m a net downhill, swooping toward the finish banner I wound it up, still hoping to break 39, but rolled through in 39:11, 1st in age group by several minutes, 43rd overall out of some 2000 participants.

I’m still happy with the result. I paced well (GAP miles between 6:12 and 6:20) and ran at my fitness level. 86.4% age grade is down from the 90+ I was running earlier this year, but being six and a half weeks post marathon I felt good about it. It just takes some time to fully recover and perhaps more importantly to rebuild that aerobic fitness after such and effort an some downtime.

Mikko and McCaleb finished 4th and 3rd in their age group (Mikko missing 2nd by just 5 seconds) and were happy with their races.

I got to meet Joe, a long-time online friend, soon after the race and we chatted a bit before the shivers took over. Did a short, somewhat hobbling 1 mile cool down (my sciatic seemed to be acting up and my lower leg kept giving out), and hopped into the car to warm up and get read for the Thanksgiving meal.

In short, we had a great trip in to Madison and had a fun run on Thanksgiving. And that’s a wrap on 2023’s racing calendar!