San Francisco Half Marathon Race Report

I ran my first road half marathon on Sunday. I've done two road marathons though, so I really have raced the distance on the roads before. Except in a full marathon, I tell myself that the REAL race starts at the 13 mile mark. With the Half Marathon, I planned to run hard the whole way. In my first marathon back in October 2009 (Silicon Valley Marathon), I had clocked a 1:45 first half, and in my 2nd marathon in December 2009, I clocked a 1:42 first half. My A goal was to break 1:40 and my B goal was to break 1:45. I've had no speed training lately, and my longest training run in the last 2 months was an 11-miler on trails (2.5 miles of which were an uphill hike).

Originally, I wanted to run the full marathon. But I developed a calf strain in June and an ankle sprain just a week ago, so I never got in the "mandatory" 20+ miler in training that I was hoping to do. One of my best friends was running the 5K, while his wife was running the half marathon. I was going to just sign up for 5K and hang out with my good friend, but the 5K sold out! And since I didn't want to be left out, I signed up for the half marathon. My friend also had a sister and two brother-in-laws doing the half marathon and three sisters doing the 5K (big family, very much like mine, except my 4 sisters are wimps when it comes to running). I've known my friend since we were in pre-school and we even ran Cross Country together in high school. He is like a brother to me, and I treat his family like mine own. So right from the start, I was among family and friends. It also helped to have my good friend pick up my race packet, and drive me to the race (one hour away)!

We were bused to the 2nd half starting line near the midpoint of the race, where we would join up with the marathoners and finish with them. In this race there is the "first half" and "second half" to choose from for the half marathoners. The "first half" is hillier, but they get to run across the Golden Gate Bridge, which sounds pretty cool (probably the reason why it sold out). The "second half" gets to run around Golden Gate park, has a lot more downhill, and it starts at 8:15AM.

I was hoping to run my mile splits at 7:30 and keep all my splits under 8:00 if possible. I didn't eat breakfast (since we left at 4:50AM from my friend's house), and knew I was going to need some gu along the race course, which I got at mile 3 (that might have saved my race). I ran a mile warmup (11 minute mile) and did some stretching before my 2nd wave start at 8:20. The first mile felt slow because of all the congestion. I should have started with the 1st wave (during registration, I put in 2 hours as a goal time, when it should have been 1:40). Still, I ran a 7:38 first mile. But after that first mile, the next two miles felt harder for some reason (looking at the course profile afterwards, I saw that it was slightly uphill). I still tried to keep my mile splits under 8:00, and succeeded with two 7:55 mile splits for mile 2 and 3.

After downing the gu, things started to feel better. Mile 4 - 7:32. I start to open up my stride a little more, and I let gravity do its thing on the downhills. I try to attack the uphills, especially the short ones. I am passing a ton of marathoners, and at the midpoint of my race I'm pumped up by the dance music that they were playing. The miles fly by very quickly until miles 12 and 13, where I start to fade. The course flattens out here and I knew that I was running out of fuel. There were no more aid stations with Gu, so I just planned on gutting out the final 2.1 miles. The 1:40 pace group passed me during this stretch. I tried to keep up, but they kept getting further and further ahead of me. They started in the first wave though, so as long as I kept them within visual range, I still had a chance to break 1:40. During mile 13, my pace crept up over 8 minutes, so I worked extra hard to speed up. Mile 13 split - 7:57 (mission accomplished). The last 0.32 miles (I wasn't running the tangents very well) were tough. I finished with a 1:40:41 time according to my Garmin. Its the fastest I've ever run 13.1 miles on asphalt, in a race.

After getting my medal and drinking a free small Jamba Juice and a chocolate Muscle Milk, I turned back around and started walking back up the course to cheer on the incoming runners. I was also in search of my good friend's wife, who has also become a great friend (her being a runner is extra special). This was her first half marathon, and she was struggling with IT Band problems even before the race. I knew she'd be hurting, and I wanted to pace her in, to give her company and encouragement. I've been there, so I know how hard it can be to hobble in to the finish. On the 2.5 mile fast walk back up the course, I had a blast cheering on my fellow runners. I yelled loudly a bunch of sayings like, "This is what you came for!", "You're almost there!", "Finish strong!", "Hang in there!", "Looking good!", and "Turn that frown upside down!" (something my 3 year old daughter has been saying a lot lately). For some people who were obviously in pain, I told them in a more serious tone, "I know it hurts. Some of the best things in life hurt. Hang in there. You're almost there." I found my good friend's wife and sister running together, one with IT Band pain, and other with patellar knee pain (undoubtedly due to the few steep downhills). I ran with them, talked to them, and encouraged them as best I could. And sometimes, I just kept quiet, because suffering also needs silence. I told them that its okay to walk, and that they were going to finish, which is the important face. I told them that when they can see the finish line, that's the time to run and give it all you have left. They finished together, at a 3:02 chip time. And I was proud of them, because they gutted out a tough finish, in pain, for their first Half Marathon finish. Great job, girls!

Mile splits:
7:38
7:55 (I should have eaten breakfast!)
7:55
7:32 (Feeling better thanks to GU)
7:10 (second fastest split)
7:28
7:24
7:04 (fastest split, probably downhill aided)
7:35
7:29 (This was supposed to be my pace throughout the race!)
7:29
7:51 (Fading. I wonder if some GU would have helped...)
7:57
(.32 mi) 6:48 pace, 2:09

Quicksilver 50K Race Report

Originally, I had hoped to run the Quicksilver 50-miler in my tentative 2010 race plans. With my ITBS flareups in February and March and my Achilles tendinitis following my first 50-miler in April, the Quicksilver 50-miler was not going to happen. Then, with acupuncture on the week before, followed by a great massage therapy session, the Achilles felt a lot better. And since I keep getting bitten by these Ultra bugs, I signed up for my 4th Ultra, conservatively choosing the 50K rather than the 50-miler because we had to go to a good friend's kid's birthday party at 2pm.

A sign illustrating how steep the trails can get.

This is the 27th Quicksilver 50K/50miler with about 102 runners pre-registered in the 50-miler and 92 runners in the 50K. Many elite runners have run this race in preparation for the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run. Ann Trason has the course record for the women and its also one of the fastest times overall! And since this race is held in my hometown, in San Jose, I really wanted to get to know the course for future reference, since I will definitely be back.

The 50K has 5400 feet of elevation gain, so its not an easy course. My plan was to speed hike the uphills, and run the downhills and flats, taking it easy. I took my camera to take lots of pictures. I was going to enjoy this race, along with the beautiful trails and weather. And I planned to take my time at the aid stations to stretch and eat and thank the many volunteers that make these events possible. And if my IT Band or Achilles gave me trouble, I would hike the rest of the way in.

The first climb of the day is a tough one, but on fresh legs, no big deal.

Everything went as planned. I took lots of pictures. At mile 9, my Achilles felt a little sore, but with two Advil, "hakuna matata" (no worries). At mile 16, I ran into Donald whose ultrarunning blog I enjoy reading. He has run a sub-3 hour marathon at Big Sur, and ran the Western States 100 last year. His blog about Western States was a very well written, enjoyable blog, and a highly recommended read. What's he doing way back here? Turns out he took a wrong turn! Doh! I chatted with him briefly and told him how much I enjoyed his blog. Then I took his picture, which I plan on emailing him. Donald is a very cool dude.

Donald, posing for a picture.

At mile 18, I ran into a lady who didn't look so good. I stopped to see if she was alright. She felt a little lightheaded, which sounds like dehydration, but she had been doing all the right things with electrolyte pills and hydration. I jogged with her for while just to make sure she was alright. I had electrolyte pills, ginger chews, advil, and imodium AD to offer, but there was nothing in my bag of tricks that could help her. Eventually, she would stop again to take an electrolyte pill, and I would move on, wishing her luck. She caught up to me later for a short stretch, and had recovered from her "spell".

Random trail picture. As you can see, most of the trails are very nicely groomed.

Another picture of some single-track trail.

At the aid stations I stopped, and took my time to eat potatoes dipped in salt, orange slices and some pieces of banana. During the whole race, I drank only about 30 ounces, refilling my water bottle only 3 times to halfway mark (ran the first 6 miles without water). But since I took a dosage of juice and chia seed before my race, I wasn't concerned. At every aid station, I made sure to thank the volunteers and chatted with some of them. Many of them were Ultrarunners themselves. At 3 hours and 45 minutes, I took my second serving of Vespa.

A portion of the trails go through wooded areas with some small streams and at least 3 wooden bridges.

An old abandoned mine.

At the 2 hour mark, I had run about 10 miles. At the 4 hour mark, I had run about 20 miles. And then at the 5 hour mark, I had run 25 miles. And I was still feeling pretty good. Doing the math, if I ran sub 10-minute miles for the last 6 miles, I would finish in under 6 hours! And maybe even have a shot at my 50K PR (5:57)! I was in a state of shock. How is this possible? I was planning on a 7 hour finish. With exciting thoughts about the possibilities, I made my move. I hammered the next 4 miles, running hard on the downhills and even some of the short uphills. I passed several runners during this stretch. I was having a blast! Who would have thought this was possible? Surely not me. My Achilles felt great at this point, probably as a result of the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Sorry, no time to take pictures now! I blasted by the last aid station. I was on a mission. And then the hills hit. What? Are you kidding me? Not just one monster either. 4 monsters, one after the other smacked me down. I am generally a good hiker, but the last 4 hard miles left me fatigued. I practically crawled up these hills at a snail's pace.

The third of 4 monster hills. Hills aren't as impressive in pictures as they are in person, partly because you are pointing your camera up at them.

Eventually, the uphills passed, and the last mile is downhill. In the last 200 meters, I got "chicked", by the womens 30-39 age group winner. And I had nothing left in the tank to even make it interesting. My calf cramped as I tried to finish with one last strong push, to finish in 41st place with a time of 6:04:xx. It was an awesome race. If I had taken less pictures and chatted less, I would probably have PRed, but I have no regrets. "Hakuna matata". I had a blast, and wouldn't change anything, given a second chance.

Just another view of along the trails that I would normally run pass without fully appreciating it.

I never did get to meet Laura Yasso, which was the only thing that kind of bummed me out. I did run into the owners of Zombierunner (a great running store), Gillian Robinson and Don Lundell. They are running the Western States 100 this year, and Gillian is running Badwater again! Gillan's 2003 Badwater race report was very inspirational to me, and is another great read. I got a great free ART session after the race. And I got my first Ultra metal! Not as cool as my AR50 Finisher's Jacket, but I'll take it!

Zombies, Gillian and Don, who own Zombierunner, the coolest Ultra running store I know.

Me, at the finish line.

Sunrise on the trails. The beauty of running allows us to see many more sunrises than the average person. Trail runners also reach amazing heights, where we are "first to embrace the light, and last to surrender it".

American River 50 Mile Race Report

When you enter into one of the biggest tests of your life, a lot of things go through your mind. Not just, "What the heck am I doing and why?" or "This could get really ugly, really fast...".

Coming into this race, my right IT Band (knee) was a big question mark, since it forced me into a 5 mile hobble/limp/ "death march" at my previous race one month earlier (Way Too Cool 50K). And since then, my longest run was 9 miles, on April 3rd, and only after my first ART treatment. And that run was cut short due to pain in my left hip. Back I went to my ART Chiropractor, who unstuck my problematic hip. On April 6th, I planned to run 6 miles, and ended with 4 miles, due to a calf niggle/twinge/pain. Back I go to my ART Chiropractor on April 8th for final treatment on my calf and kinesio taping of my IT Band and Calf for support. I felt like a straw man. If the wind blew the wrong way, I was going to unravel. To top it all off my wife and daughter have been sick all week and have been coughing up storms around me. My immune system amazingly held up. Until Friday morning that is, when I awoke with a slightly sore throat and headache. It took me a while to get out of bed. I was afraid it would get worse before the race, but thankfully, it didn't.

Its a little tradition between me and my brother, that we go to the San Francisco Giants home opening day baseball game every year (we're season ticket holders). I was once a very avid baseball fan (lived and died with my team). I've grown more detached to the game after getting married. Every year, this baseball game lands on a Tuesday. But for the first time, the game lands on Friday, April 9th. Noooooooooo! My initial thought was, "Forget it, my race is more important". The day before a big, long race, you want to vegetate, carboload, and rest, not drive a whole hour to sit out in the sun for three (on average). I was tormented by this decision all week. I told my brother, "I can't take you to the game on Friday. Doing so will affect my race, and this is a big race for me." Anyone would have been able to read the disappointment etched on his face. That look haunted me. I could go to the game, drive the one hour home, and then drive up to Sacramento (another 2 hours), to check into the hotel late with my wife and daughter. I might be more tired, and the cold that was threatening me in the morning could grow into something more sinister, but heck, I can do it, right? There will be other races, but I have only one brother (to make a long story short, he has Cerebral Palsy).

I went to the game. And we were losing 2-4 in the bottom of the ninth inning when their closer came in the game (Billy Wagner). Edgar Renteria hit a 2-run home run into the left-field bleachers to tie the game. The place went nuts. My brother loved it. The game ended up going 13 innings (over 4 hours), but at least the Giants won 5-4.

With young kids, sometimes it takes forever to get out the door. We ended leaving home at 9pm, and arrived at our hotel in Sacramento at 11pm. Before I fell asleep I thought about the race, and how hard it has been to simply get to the starting line. I felt like it was a test from God, himself. It was supposed to be hard. Would I choose my brother's happiness, or my own selfish "want" of a perfect race. And if I chose to vegetate on Friday, would I be punished by some unnatural/karmic winds on race day (remember, I felt like a straw man). And by choosing my brother's happiness, would I be rewarded by some heavenly assistance (a nice tailwind for 50 miles would be nice). Comforted by the thought that I had made the right decisions, and that all these hardships were meant to be, I fell asleep; no longer afraid, no longer nervous, and at peace.

At 5:00AM, I take a taxi out to the starting area of the second largest 50-mile foot race in the United States of America with about 700 runners. Apparently, around 50 runners never even made it to the starting line. I was almost one of them.

On Thursday, I read "How to run your first 50-miler", by Eric Robinson. In it, he describes the "magic"of the 5:1 run/walk ratio. I've read about the 5:1 ratio, but I've never tried it. I've tried run-walking before, but usually after a handful of miles. During a 24 mile training run, I did experiment with walking for 1.5 minutes for every mile, but this was done way back in January. But, reading that the 5:1 ratio was "magic, hit a chord with me, and that became part of my last-minute strategy. The first 20 miles of the American River 50-mile is fairly flat. So the plan was to run for 5 minutes, and walk for 1 minute, right from the start. And once I hit the trails, I would let the hills dictate when my walking breaks would be.

I bought a new hydration belt on Thursday, one made by Camelbak. It comes with 2 gel flasks, loosely held in elastic pockets in the front. I filled one with Hammer Gel, and the other with chia seeds (I drank a bottle of diluted cranberry juice with chia seeds before the race, and had one bottle in a drop bag at mile 26.7). I decided to use 2 pairs of shoes instead of the 3 I had planned for, in the previous week. I would start out with my New Balance MT100s, for the first 26.7 miles and then change into my La Sportiva Crosslites later. Just remember to move the timing chip over to my new shoes (I almost forgot).

I got in line for the port-a-potties at 5:30AM, and chatted with some fellow Ultrarunners, one of whom I had met the month before at the Way Too Cool 50K. This might be TMI, but as I sat down to do my business, I heard a clunk. Oh no, what did I drop? I bent over to look, and I hear another clunk. Both gel flasks that I had on my hydration belt had fallen in to the point of no return (in the toilet). And I was not reaching in to get them!

The race starts at 6am, about an hour before the sun rises, in the dark. But there is enough light to kinda see where you are going, and some runners have mini-flashlights.

Miles 0-17

The 5:1 run/walk ratio was working. The miles flew by and I felt great. I was also running fast. And walking fast. I clocked 9 sub 9 minute miles, even with the 1 minute walks. I was on pace for a 4-hour marathon. I knew I had to slow down, but I just felt too good. The weather was perfect, with a high of 59 and a low of 48! The day before, it was sunny with a high of 73, and the day after, it rained a ton! The stars were in alignment, and fate was smiling upon me. The first 15 miles were pure bliss. Then things started to slow down, but I knew that this day belonged to me.

Splits for mile 0-17: 10:13 (crowd takes a while to thin out on the narrow bike path) 9:03 8:48 9:26 (first aid station) 8:42 8:41 8:34 8:44 9:27 (second aid station) 8:36 9:11 8:39 8:38 8:44 10:29 (third aid station) 9:10 9:21

At the 17 mile mark, I ran into some of the first major hills. Walk-run ratios have to be modified when it comes to hills, or else you might end up running uphill and walking downhill, which is counter-productive. At mile 22, I experienced my first "low of the day". At this point, I've developed a blister on one of my toes, and my left achilles starts to bother me. I take 2 Advil to reduce the pain (I brought 6) and stopped to stretch out several times. I told my wife to expect me at the 26.7 mile mark between 10:30 and 11:00AM, so slowing down a bit might be a good thing.

Splits for mile 18-26: 9:46 11:02 10:02 10:11 13:32 14:53 12:35 11:48 11:16

At the 26.7 mile aid station (Beals Point), I change shoes from my New Balance MT 100s to my La Sportiva Crosslites, which give me better traction on trails. I almost forgot to transfer my timing chip which would have been disastrous. I chug down my bottle of diluted cranberry juice and chia seeds. Chia seeds really work. The whole day, I kept my water bottle only half filled, and usually did not need to refill it at the aid stations. My wife calls me on my cell phone (yes, I brought my cell phone, and I only partially regret it), as I am leaving the aid station. She's late, because I didn't give her clear directions to the aid station. Sorry! That's okay. I'll just see her at the next aid station, at mile 31.5. Rushing out of the aid station was a mistake. I forgot to stuff myself with food.

Miles 27-31

Not long after leaving the aid station, I experience the worst hunger of my life. The energy low leaves me walking more and running a lot less. My wife had prepared a sealed envelope for me with motivating words from family and friends, and I brought it with me. I scan through three pages for some magical words of wisdom that will get me through this awful low. Words from my big sister and some of my close friends pleasantly surprised me. They couldn't make in person, but they were there for me in my darkest hour. But I was still freakin' starving. It was a hollow emptiness that sapped my body of strength. I reminded myself that this is just another low I needed to get through, and that things would get better after I get some food.

Through the dark tunnel, I finally see the light of the nearest aid station. And there to greet me is my wife and daughter. My daughter (who turns 3 in May) runs dramatically to me, and jumps into my arms. This was a great uplifting moment, and it was captured on camera! I hugged my wife, slumping into her arms, and told her how starved I was. I then proceeded to stuff my face with potatoes dipped in salt, orange slices, banana slices, and three cups of Campbell's soup. The soup was heavenly.


Mile splits for 27-31: 15:50 10:26 12:23 12:39 12:57

Miles 32-40

The food recharged me, and allowed me to charge ahead into the gnarly ups and downs of the trails ahead. The single track trail in this section are gorgeous. The trail was narrow and that made passing anyone difficult. I ran with a train of runners through a good portion of these miles, and it felt great. Mile splits can be quite deceiving on the trails, because in long trail races, the hills need to be walked and some downhills are too treacherous to be running down.

Mile splits for 32-40: 23:25 (aid station)14:56 12:37 13:34 16:01 15:03 13:27 15:49 14:36



Miles 41-50

It was during this section that I get a mini-epiphany. When I was in survival shuffle mode, I was only running at a 13 minute/mile pace. When I was speed walking, I was able to walk at a 14 minute/mile pace, and it allowed me to run (not survival shuffle) after a while. So I began to walk even on the flat sections, to save my achilles, and to allow me to run the downhills more efficiently.

The last three miles are all uphill. And they look runnable. But when I tried to run, my hamstrings vehemently objected. I walk as fast as I can though. And I still passed a few runners. And with about 300 meters to go, I sprint it in, to pass one last unsuspecting soul.

I had finished my first 50-mile race. And not only did I finish it, I did it well despite my "straw-man" status. It was awesome. Words fail to describe how great I felt. I did not finish in a "death march". I walked a lot near the end, but with purpose, and with high spirits. I finished in 313th place out of 578 finishers, with a time of 10 hours and 21 minutes. The finish was awesome, but it was the whole 50 mile journey that was breathtaking. A sincere Thank You to all the wonderful volunteers that made this day extra special. ! was cheered on like a celebrity, which always helped boost my spirits. And a huge Thank you to my wife, daughter, personal support crew, and all my family and friends that were there with me in spirit.

Mile splits for 41-50 :12:53 15:57 13:13 15:37 15:03 15:08 13:54 16:10 16:58 14:41

Here is my daughter goofing off with her cousins in the parking lot, waiting for Daddy to finish his race.

Side notes:

I ended up not using the restroom the whole way. And according to my urine color, I was only slightly dehydrated. I credit the chia seeds, the cool temperatures, and a big bladder. I took a total of 4 servings of Vespa, which I highly recommend for ultrarunners and for marathoners. There was never any hint of my right IT Band or calf problems. I credit hip and glutes exercises, my ART Chiropractor, and the kinesio tape that she applied on Thursday evening. I had brought an IT Band strap, but thankfully, did not need it. I also wore compression tights, underneath running shorts, which may have helped overall muscle fatigue. I got a great free massage after the race. I iced my swollen left achilles on Sunday night, and taped it up. I think I'll take a few weeks off running before deciding where my next adventure race will be. And since I qualified for Western States 100 mile, in 2011, I might drop my name in the lottery to see if fate might smile on me again next year... There is still a chance I might attempt my first 100-mile race in September at the Rio Del Lago 100...we'll see...
A lot happened on this great day, and words don't always capture the essence of moments such as this. If you are considering a 50-mile race, I would highly recommend it. I believe we were "born to run", and I think we all are capable of some amazing things, if we give ourselves the chance. The secret key is simply to believe in yourself.

Way Too Cool 50K RR

It was a beautiful day in Cool, California, and I toed the line with about 500 other runners for the 21st annual Way Too Cool 50K. It rained a lot the day before, and everyone knew that it would be a mudfest on the trails today.

I had very conservative goals. I wanted to finish the darn thing without needing a lengthy recovery. Because of a IT Band flareup two weeks ago during a 35 miles training run, I was nervous. I also thought I had a chance to PR in the 50K, with my previous time of 5:57 on a tougher course with more elevation gain. Turns out the GPS reading for this 50K was about 31.7 miles, versus the 30.6 miles from my PR 50K back in December.

The first 7 miles were nice. I avoided puddles perfectly. I crossed a stream while carefully stepping on a few stones. And then it happened. After being distracted by a cameraman (I smiled for the camera), I almost turned my ankle on a rock. A bit disoriented, I then take an ill-advised step in a mud puddle, that sucks my right shoe right up. The mud and rocks ooze into my shoes as I yank it back out. I had to shake out the mud and rocks for a few minutes before I can even stuff my mud caked foot back into my shoe. At the next aid station, fortunately close by, I was able to rinse out the mud and rocks in a small stream.

After losing my shoe in the mud, I went on a little mud-slinging, stream-crashing rampage. I no longer cared about getting dirty or wet. I charged through streams and muddy puddles with reckless abandon. And it was a blast! And I ran pretty fast for about 2-3 miles mostly downhill, before some of the adrenaline wore off. The next 16-17 miles, I ran more conservatively, but still blasted through puddles and streams. I ran up most of the shorter hills during this stretch, and felt really good.

And then at the marathon mark (26 miles), my IT Band flares up again. And it paralyzes me with fear. I cannot let this thing derail my running goals for the long term. And for the next 5 miles, all kinds of doubts shrouded my thinking. I felt defeated. I felt like a quitter. I felt like this was the end of my running. Signs along the way, with inspirational quotes didn't help. People cheering on the sidelines couldn't understand my pain or my doubt. If finishing the race were my main goal, I wouldn't be in such a bad mood. I could easily walk it in. I thought that I might even give up running again. And then, things slowly got better. I stopped to stretch a little. And walking no longer hurt. And then I could shuffle a little bit, before the occasional twinge that would force me back into a walk. With 1.3 miles to go, I thought I had a chance to break 7 hours, so I started shuffling for .3 miles. And with 1 mile to go, another steep hill (cruel joke) made me give up any delusions of a sub-7 hour finish. I finished in 340th place out of 472 finishers, with a time of 7:02:18.

I was very disappointed with my time, and very worried about my running future. But it wasn't long before things started to feel better. The clouds that shrouded my thinking eventually cleared, and I became determined to fix my IT Band and continue my quest to go further and faster. I had a bad racing day (but a decent training day), and a cranky IT Band, but things "always never gets worse", right? I don't have time to worry about things I can't control. I have a 50-miler to get ready for, and an IT Band to fix. What will I remember about this day? I had some awesome mud-slinging fun, I suffered, I "death-marched", and I finished my 2nd Ultramarathon, and I got to do it all with great fellow runners beside me, both in person, and in spirit. If there was one thing I didn't feel out there, it was "alone". I was never alone. Thank you everyone for being there for me.

1st Ultramarathon: Rodeo Beach 50K

I finished my first Ultramarathon today, in 5 hours and 57 minutes. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but it was just AWESOME! I met at least 5 new friends, who I ran/hiked with during the course of the race. The camaraderie was instant, and I'm hoping to see them again to continue our conversations and our friendships. With 6 miles to go, I pulled out my wife's ipod and listened to some tunes to keep me company. At the last aid station, I profusely thanked the volunteers for all their hard work. And then the song, "The Climb" came on, and the lyrics hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke down and cried and laughed at the same time (my previous 2 marathons had very little hint of emotion).

The Climb, by Miley Cyrus

I can almost see it
That dream I’m dreaming but
There’s a voice inside my head sayin,
You’ll never reach it,
Every step I’m taking,
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking but I
Got to keep trying
Got to keep my head held high

There’s always going to be another mountain
I’m always going to want to make it move
Always going to be an uphill battle,
Sometimes I’m going to have to lose,
Ain’t about how fast I get there,
Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side
It’s the climb
The struggles I’m facing,
The chances I’m taking
Sometimes they might knock me down but
No I’m not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I’m going to remember most yeah
Just got to keep going
And I,
I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on

I had run the CIM Marathon 13 days ago, and had not fully recovered, but heck, it was my last chance to run an Ultra in 2009, and I nailed it! There was a last minute course change due to some recent rain, so the start of the race got shifted (less 100-200 feet of elevation gain). But since there was originally ~6000 feet of elevation gain, this really did not change much. I used 3 servings of Vespa, 8 S-caps (every 30-45 minutes, or when I started to cramp), and ate a bunch of food (potatoes, gummy bears, oranges, pop tarts, etc.) at the various aid stations. I carried a handheld, but only filled it halfway at each of the aid stations. I did stop at all the aid stations briefly to eat and refill my bottle. I wore my Asics Piranhas (4 oz.). I had a lengthy conversation with a runner (Phil) who thought my shoes were a little crazy, offering no protection against rocks and roots. I told him it was my first Ultra, and that I was experimenting, and won't know if it was a mistake until after the race. I also wore compression sleeves on my calves and newly bought gaiters (to prevent junk from getting in my shoes).

My first rookie mistake was to hit the early downhills too hard. I have always thought downhill running was one of my strengths. Unfortunately, it only bruised my right foot, and at mile 8, I had a scary tightening of my right IT Band (often the result of hammering downhills, without breaking). Thankfully, the tight IT Band went away, and I took every downhill after that much more conservatively. I hiked the long uphills fairly fast, especially since some of my company during the race were awesome hikers (and 100-miler runners). That resulted in sporadic cramping of my left quads. With 3 miles to go, I had a chance to break 6 hours, and with the downhills, I was able to crank out an 8 and 9 minute mile, before running out of juice for the final .59 miles. My Garmin measured only 30.59 miles, but the hills have a way of messing with GPS Accuracy, I think.

Overall, this was a highly successful first Ultra, and a PR! The scenery was breathtaking, and the people were fabulous. For those folks contemplating a 50-miler, I would highly recommend you tackle a hilly 50K first. These races are really different animals compared to marathons.

8:41, 12:53, 10:58, 7:45, 14:06, 11:21, 7:25, 8:52, 13:50, 9:23, 15:42, 17:01, 10:25, 11:37, 11:51, 9:59, 9:15, 8:54, 16:20, 12:14, 17:35, 11:32, 13:57, 17:34, 10:19, 12:00, 11:46, 11:13, 8:03, 9:04, 5:44 (9:47/mile)

CIM Race Report (PR by 11 minutes!)

Before this 2nd Marathon, I was pretty confident that I would PR. I trained better, I wore lighter running shoes (Asics Piranhas), I used Vespa, I took Gu from a handheld (no more struggling to open Gu packs with numb fingers), I drank less water from the aid stations (it was cold, and I wasn't sweating much), I ran a half mile warmup, I stretched better, I wore a Power-Balance wrist band (bought at the Expo), and I started out slower. My A goal was to run a 3:25, which is what the McMillan Calculator predicted that I would be capable of. My B goal was to break 3:30. My C goal was to break my previous PR of 3:41:41. And my D goal was just to finish, because lets face it, a lot can go wrong in a 26.2 mile race.

I ran a 3:30:48 (gun time), and my chip time was 3:30:21, and I didn't bonk at all this time!

Here are my splits according to my brand new Garmin Forerunner 405 (maiden voyage with this watch):

7:49, 8:10, 8:00, 7:46, 7:44, 7:44, 7:46, 7:47, 7:49, 7:42, 7:25 (my fastest mile thanks to some nice downhills), 7:51, 7:58, 8:15 (trouble opening my Vespa package with numb fingers), 8:26 (my slowest mile due to some nasty headwinds), 8:09, 8:05, 8:05, 8:10, 8:01, 8:03, 8:07, 8:02, 8:08, 8:10, 8:22 (some fatigue is setting in... I was wondering when it would really show up...), 2:39 (0.33 miles at 7:59 pace).

I was skeptical about this Power-Balance wrist band thing, but it clearly gave me more flexibility and strength during some simple tests. If a wrist band made you stronger and more balanced and flexible, would you wear it? I figured it couldn't hurt, and there were clearly many other believers.

I think Vespa allowed me to run a more consistent race with no energy problems. By burning fat more efficiently, you end up burning less sugars, resulting in less lactic acid, less cramping, less soreness, and a quicker recovery. The compression calf sleeves (by Zensah) kept my legs warmer (around 31 degrees at the start) and was supposed to aid in providing better blood flow and circulation (I had a mild calf strain 5 weeks ago). The Asics Piranhas are super light at 4 ounces each, and helped me with a faster foot turnover, even though my feet felt numb most of the time. After being slammed by headwinds at mile 15, I slowed down and found a pace that would keep me close to the 3:30 goal time. And I surprised myself at being able to hold the pace through mile 25. There was no wall and no cramping this time, and the time flew by pretty quick. During my first marathon, these last 5 miles were agonizingly slow.

At mile 26, I had a nephew pace me for about a tenth of a mile, which gave me a final boost to the finish line, for a strong finish.

This is why we run marathons. They feel like awesome accomplishments sometimes (not all the time), and today was one of those awesome accomplishment days.

First Marathon

Wooohoooo!!! I finished my first marathon in an official chip time of 3:41:41.

Splits according to my Garmin Forerunner 50 (uses the footpod), which logged 26.56 miles (clearly off).

7:41, 7:46, 8:01, 8:06, 8:10, 7:49, 7:55, 8:11, 7:55, 7:47, 7:47, 7:59, 7:51, 7:52, 7:39, 7:59, 7:59, 8:19, 8:17, 8:55, 8:45, 9:10, 9:16, 9:24, 9:45, 10:27, 5:12 (last .56 miles).

As you can see, I started fading around mile 17. And for the last 2.5 miles, I had nothing left in the tank. Possibly due to the fact that I was short 1 gu package (could have used one at the 3:15 mark). I had taken a gu at 1:00, 1:45, and 2:30, but forgot to bring an extra gu (I brought 1, and used 2 from the aid stations). I should have just asked for another gu at the last aid station that was giving them out! Arghhh...

My original goal was to run 8-minute miles, hoping to "bank" minutes in the first half, knowing that I would probably fade in the final miles. Early on, I also decided to attack all uphill portions to use them as momentum builders rather than momentum killers. The mantra that I recited to myself over and over, was "easy, light, smooth, and fast", from the book, Born to Run. I also kept telling myself that the real race will begin after the half, and then at the 20 mile mark, which was uncharted territory for me.

At mile 15/16, things started to hurt a little more, but I was looking forward to seeing my little 2 year old at mile 19. I stutter stepped in for a kiss on the run, which gave me a boost for at least a few more miles. Then my left hamstring started to cramp, and I was afraid that if I kept up my pace, I would end up limping (worse than walking). It went away, and resurfaced once or twice more, but it never stopped me.

The last 1.5 miles seemed to go on forever. This is basically where I bonked. There just wasn't anything left. And I had to keep telling myself to keep moving. With about 100 feet to go, I made my last move, a quick sprint to the end, to catch one last unsuspecting runner. I recieved my medal and was just relieved that it was over. I am a proud to call myself an official marathoner.