Race Report: Fair on the Square Half Marathon, Sept 10, 2022

ORN:   13.1 miles, 2:19:38, 10:40/mile, R/W 3/1

Brief Summary:

It’s fascinating how an ordinary running event can yield

significant moments.   Such was the Fair on the Square Half Marathon. 

I was very pleased with my race plus found other insights

along the way, most in a surprising fashion.

Gory Details:

Background

In early August, I had an awful race.  On reflection, I modified

my autumn race plans significantly.   I chose to reduce the

number of races I would run and focus instead on being ready

for the Monumental Marathon on Nov 5 and the HUFF 50K

on Dec 17, two of my favorite races of the year.   I realized I

simply needed more training miles, uninterrupted by races,

to enjoy these two major events.    I had registered to run the

full marathon at the Fair on the Square but decided to cut it

back to half marathon and use it as a “workout with friends.”   

Most of August remained a running bust however, as a

long-lasting sinus infection made even modest mileage seem

out of reach.   Only in the last week of the month was I able

to hit the daily/weekly mileage totals of Higdon’s Intermediate II

training program I’ve used for many years.    

We went to Door County, Wisconsin starting the Labor Day

weekend for a marvelous nine-day vacation. The program

named 5 runs for the week:  4, 9, 4, 9 and 19 miles.  Finally

feeling better, I clicked through the first four Monday thru

Thursday and drove home Friday.  The plan was to drive

early to the race site, run 3 miles to warm up, run the

half-marathon and then another 3 to get in the 19 for the day.    

The Tire:

Up at 4:45am, I was out the door early to work the plan.  

There was an unexpected detour on the state road approaching

the race location, however.  Shortly after getting back on

the main route, I got an alarm of low pressure on my left front

tire.  Sure enough, I heard an odd sound from that tire, the

car was pulling to the left and I realized I needed a safe place

to pull over.   I found an abandoned driveway in the middle of

the country, got out, and experienced the deflated feeling of

looking at a tire going down.

Nothing to do but to fix it, so I pulled out the jack, spare and

the one thing that made me smile a bit: a dedicated lug nut

wrench.   Years ago, a friend suggested having a proper socket

wrench in the car rather than depending on the stamped-out

wrench supplied with cars.   It worked.   

And then an angel showed up.  A random guy had just dropped

his daughter off at an early volleyball practice, saw my situation,

pulled in, positioned his headlights since it was still pre-dawn

and helped me out.   We got the flat off, the spare secured, a warm

handshake to my new friend Brook, and off I drove on the final

12 miles to the race site.   

The Race:

I parked 18 minutes before the gun.  Good thing it was a small event,

as I grabbed grab my bib, made a trip thru the porta pot line and

walked into the starting grid just as the National Anthem played. The

flat tire obviously wiped out my planned 3 mile warm up.  I barely

stretched.  And the race started at exactly 8:00am.   

 I got rolling in the back of the pack.

I was glad I had previously settled in my mind to use this as a training run

with friends and not as a race.   So, I didn’t push things early, focusing on

just getting loose.   Early on, long-time friend Jen spotted me and we

had a great chat, not having seen each other since the pre-Covid days.  

That was a treat.   We chatted a longer time post-race.

By mile one or so, I was moving comfortably using a 3/1 run/walk ratio

for the day.  Around mile 3, I was in a decent groove.  We got to the far

west end of the rectangular course at about mile 5 and I was feeling good.   

People often ask me “What on earth do you think about when you run

for multiple hours?”   It's a good question.  On this day, the question “what

is my role in the world as a retired guy?” was big on my mind.  This was

prompted by observing striking examples along the course of both rural

poverty and rural opulence.   We were up close with both as the race

moved along.   During my working career in manufacturing, I felt strongly

that a key contribution for me was creating jobs for which a person with

minimal education could succeed, make a very good wage with benefits

and have the opportunity to progress.   Folks living in rural poverty could

get a job with us and move ahead.   So, now that I’m retired, how do I

positively impact those who are regarded less-well by society?   That was

much on my mind this day and often while I run. 

Around mile six, I was surprised by a phenomenon I have seen many

times in the past but not much recently.   I noticed I was gradually passing

people but not getting passed, even as I retained the run/walk cycles.  

I laughed...years ago, I observed it was often about an hour into a half or

full marathon that I’d begin to one by one pass people with few passing me.  

Such was the case again and it was kinda nice.   By mile nine, I noticed

I needed to tell myself to slow down the pace during the run cycle...I was

feeling better and better.    It’s been a while.  

Around mile 11, we were back into town, with some zigs and zags through

neighborhoods to get the mileage right.   I did some quick math at mile 12

and realized if I hustled, I could finish under 2:20.  As I did the math, I laughed

out loud.   What is it about us runners which drives us to try to get under

some arbitrary round number?   I know I’m not alone.  I don’t fully understand

it but the drive is real.   I picked up the pace and with about a half mile to go,

ran continuously to the finish line.   Chip timing is great...I finished in 2:19:38.    

Across the line, I chatted with a few folks, with a particularly pleasant

conversation with local running pal Hacene who had also driven down

for this HM.   He too had a  hard time on the detour but his tires stayed

inflated.   He’s a great guy and also very fast.  I can only chat with

him pre and post-race!

They started the awards ceremony just after I finished.  Amazingly, I came

2nd in the 65-69 Age Group and won another drinking glass.   2nd of 4,

mind you, but second nonetheless.  And my wife likes the size and heft of the glass.  

The Rest of the Miles

Work remained, however.  Since I didn't get three miles in pre-race, I

needed to do six post-race. I refilled my water bottle, walked back to my

car to drop off my medal and new glassware and ran the course backwards

to the ten mile marker, then back to the finish.   I saw a few of the fast

marathoners finishing their second lap but was mostly by myself.   The last

mile or so got hot but I finished the six. I walked back to the finish area,

treated myself to a DQ ice cream bar, changed into some dry clothes

and got on to even more work. 

Tire Fix

I didn’t want to drive the 70 miles home on the spare tire, so I located a tire

repair place nearby which was open, sat in their waiting room for an hour

and got my tire back on for $15.   Nice guys to help me out on a quiet

Saturday afternoon.   Home around 4pm, making it a much longer day

than I had imagined.  Still, it was a surprisingly successful day.

What do I take from all this?   First off, training miles matter.   I was finally

on a better weekly total and this helped.   

Second, I gained some clarity on how I continue to approach retirement.

Reflection on this open course was helpful.

Third, I was thankful I had a lug nut socket wrench in  my car.   That

made the flat tire an annoyance, not a crisis.   

Thanks for reading.   Hope you can get your miles in and avoid

nails in the road.   

Persevere.

. 

Race Report: Painful Elimination Backyard Ultra, Aug 20, 2022

ORN:   Officially- 8.2 miles in two hours. 

Summary:  The Painful Elimination Backyard Ultra was a new race and race format for me.   Running on a poor training base with a head full of mucus, I didn't run well and wasn't sure I liked the format.   

Gory Details:

I've read about Backyard Ultras, a devious invention of Barclays Marathon founder Gary Cantrell, a.k.a. Laz Lake.    You start a loop of about 4.2 miles on the hour, every hour.   If you don't get back in 60 minutes or you don't line up to start the next loop on the hour, you are out.   Last Runner Standing...the winner is the final individual to finish a loop in 60 mintues.   It's a format I've never run.   This race landed well on my calendar, so I signed up. 

The organizers offered free camping near the start/finish line, so I took advantage of that.   I drove the 2.5 hours from my house to the site, just north of Bloomington, Illinois and set up on Friday evening.   

The clouds in the photo developed into some serious rain overnight.   I was OK in my tent until it got heavy and I noticed my feet were wet...so around 3am, I moved back into my car until the alarm went off at 5.   Not great sleep, to say the least.   But I was up, had my usual race-day breakfast of two turkey and cheese sandwiches and a Diet Coke, and got set for the 7am start.  

I wadded up my wet tent and backed my car to a spot very near the start finish line, where my supplies would await me between each lap. 

My objective for the day was to run 9 laps, which would get me 50K of distance.     Since I only had to beat a 14:21/mile pace to cover the distance each hour, I thought this was reasonable.   We gathered for a brief pre-race meeting at 6:45am and at precisely 7:00am, we were off...56 intrepid runners.   

Having never run in this park before, I wanted to use Lap One to gain a perspective of the course.   It was exactly what the race organizers said it was...a surprisingly difficult route, especially for a Midwest trail.    It was  "lollipop" trail, with the "stick" being about a  half mile of heavy grass...think "pasture" if you will.   It was wet and heavy and absorbed a lot of energy from the legs. 

We then entered the woods for the "loop" of the lollipop.   It was very narrow, twisty, single track for 3+ miles along a forested area above a lake.   Up and down and back and forth we went.  

There was very little straight running and lots of roots, logs and trip possibilities, along with short bridges.  The course was made more difficult by the overnight rains.   The clay-based soil was quite "greasy".   

I was glad I had my screw shoes which I normally just use to run on ice and snow.  

I wasn't running all that great but I had set up my Garmin to turn off autopause and autolap...thus, I knew I was well under 14 min/mile pace required.   I was pretty sure I was dead last as I came across the final bridge out of the woods and back into the pasture to finish up.   The RD snapped this. 

Thumbs up enthusiasm...even though I didn't feel so great.    I finished the lap in 56 minutes, grabbed a water bottle, changed hats (rain was looming in the west) and lined up.   Promptly at the top of the hour, out we went again. 

Lap Two went better.   I had a feel for where I could pick up a little time and a feel for where I just had to keep moving.   I found I was running with the same people again...not surprisingly.    I ran better and smarter and finished in 54 minutes.     I didn't look all that vigorous as I came to the finish line, though...that pasture grass took it out of me.   At least I wasn't dead last...I beat the 10 year old boy and his dad....

With six whole minutes to rest this time, I swapped out my shirt which was soaked from rain and sweat and sat down for a couple of minutes.   The off time just FLEW by though and the intermission seemed hectic.  At the top of the hour, the same group reassembled and out we went again for Lap Three.  

The third lap felt strange.   I ran less-hard in the pasture grass, preferring to let people I knew would eventually pass me move ahead where we had some space, rather than stopping to let them pass on the single-track.    I mostly ran by myself in the woods and wondered just how close it was going to be.   I went through a low spot mid-loop and noticed my aggregate pace fell below 14:21/mile.   I felt cruddy in my head.   Was this it? 

I kept moving though and tried to run faster in the few runnable sections in the woods.  Whereas I had felt good doing that on Lap Two, the legs were balky this time.    When I emerged from the woods, I looked at my watch and saw it would be close but I felt like I was on the wrong side of the clock.      The pasture grass was still long and wet and ate up what energy I tried to put into the final half mile.    I came down the final section and heard the group take off at the top of the hour...I had missed the cut off.   As my new-friends headed out on their Lap Four, many recognized I was close but not good enough and empathized.   I crossed the start-finish line with a lap time of 60 minutes, 38 seconds.   Voted off the island.   My day was done.   Officially, I was credited with 8.4 miles.   I had run 12.6 miles.   I was so far short of the 31 miles I had hoped to cover it wasn't funny.   

This is the master score sheet from later in the day...you didn't want to be the runner under the orange highlighter...you were gone.  

I was disappointed in the moment.   I plopped down next to my car, refueled and began to ponder just how the day had gone so very poorly.    I slowly regrouped, toweled off, changed into dry clothes and decided to hang around to see runners return.  The leaders returned in 39 minutes and the rest got in by 58 minutes.   Quickly, the group reassembled before the top of the hour and out they went for Lap Five.   I got in my car and drove home.    

Why did I run so poorly?   Did I not enjoy the event because I ran poorly or did I not enjoy the format of the event?    Three hours driving across the prairie gives you time to think. 

I ran poorly due to poor training.   I missed my scheduled long run two weeks prior because I was traveling.   I had also  missed a full week of training following that due to a monster head cold/sinus infection I was just recovering from.   Had those two items worked, I would have likely run at least two more laps successfully.   Yet the course was just as advertised and I hadn't fully grasped just how tough it would be.  

My enjoyment was diminished by the format of the event, as well.   It took me a while to figure out why but I finally put my finger on it. 

In traditional road races, the entrants gather at the start line, begin running and the field extends throughout the entire event.   Whether the event is distance-based (won by who finishes fastest) or time-based (won by who finishes with the most distance), each runner runs the pace he/she can manage.   On those good days, you push the pace and seek to run hard.  On bad days, you come to grips with it, slow down and live to fight another day. 

A "last runner standing" event is neither, however, and that was disconcerting.   Instead, it is a series of independent, 60 minute races.   At the top of each hour, you start a new race.   Everyone assembles and starts.  Over the next 60 minutes, the field stretches out.   Next lap, same thing.  The same people, the same course, spreading out in the same way.   It's much like the movie Groundhog Day, yet without Sonny and Cher.   Each hour I ran with the same folks, hearing many of the same stories, until we gradually spread out at about the same spot each time around.   I'm not sure how I would have felt had I done the nine laps I had hoped to do.   

So, that's the story.   Good adventure.  Race was as advertised.   I'll probably pass on future formats like this. 

But I will persevere.   And I hope you do as well.   

.

Race Report: Illinois Half Marathon, 5K and One-Mile, 2022

Background

The plans for this weekend started one way, a long time ago, and then shifted and shifted....and it all worked out OK. 

Last November, in my plans to see if I could run a 4:30 marathon this spring, I registered for two in April...the Carmel Marathon on April 9 and the Illinois Marathon at the U of Illinois on April 30.   I guessed I’d have a better shot at decent weather by picking two, rather than depending on just one spring marathon. 

Well, sometime over the winter, the Illinois Marathon organizers sent out a note saying they wouldn’t be hosting a marathon after all.   It seemed they could not hire enough off-duty police officers to supervise all the street crossings in Champaign-Urbana for a full 26.2 mile event.   Thus, the event became a Half Marathon on Saturday, April 30.   They also offered a one-mile and a 5K race on the Friday evening before.   I opted in.   And, with the way the Carmel Marathon shifted my planning, it was just fine.  

Race weekend weather was not favorable but it could have been far worse.   The forecast called for high wind and rain on Friday night and most of the day Saturday.   It turned out to be mostly just very windy, yet the meteorologist became a central figure.  

Here’s how each race played out. 

Green Street Mile-  6:30pm, Friday, April 29

Results:   8:14, 3rd of 7 men 60-69

The utter flatness of the U of I campus allowed for a unique race; a straight-line, flat, one-mile run on Third Street, from north to south.  Not many ran it, only 227 folks, and it seemed disjointed (in contrast to the perfect organization of everything else for the weekend).   But we got started about 15 minutes late and I resolved to try to run it as hard as I could, hoping for a time with a “7” as the first digit.  

I took off trying to find a pace I thought I could hold the entire distance.   It was simple to look at the per-mile pace on my Garmin to see how I was doing.    I was holding to a sub 8 well past the halfway mark.   Then, it got a bit more labored.   With about 200m to go, I was digging deep and the pace was still slipping.   30m or so from the finish line, I was simply out of gas and could only jog across the finish line.   8:14 on my watch was disappointing...bent over double, gasping for breath let me know I had given it my best shot.   

I was nevertheless encouraged to rapidly, within a couple of minutes, have my breathing back and my heart rate back down to normal.   I ambled back to my car to get a dry shirt and run a 5K about 35 minutes later

Illinois 5K,  7:30pm, Friday, April 29

Results:   28:49, (9:17/mile), 526 of 2,696 overall, 7th of 34 Men 65-59

Whereas the one-mile race was small, disorganized and a flat-out effort for me, the 5K was very big, perfectly organized and a gentle jog.   I can’t recall ever running a 5K with this many people...they stretched out for 200m behind the start line.  

One group of intrepid local charity runners did the 5K with Sousaphones...note the bibs on the bell!!

The sharp wind and low 50s temps made standing around in the grid quite chilly.    We started on time and warmed up.  

I just jogged this one at a pace that felt comfortable.   It was a nice tour around the U of I campus and we finished at the 50 yard line of the venerable Memorial Stadium, one of the oldest stadii in the Big Ten.  Perhaps a little cheeky of me to wear a Purdue shirt at an opposing university but no one really seemed to notice or care.    

I actually ran hard at the end and the photos seemed to capture that a bit, albeit not very flatteringly.  

It was very windy but the rain held off.   I headed to my motel and slept a bit.

Illinois Half Marathon, 7:30am, Saturday, April 30

Results:    2:14:47  (10:17/mile), 1,388 of 2,384, 12th of 25 Men 65-69

My objective for the HM was to run it in 2:15 and enjoy it.   Walking into the Expo on Friday afternoon, I happened to meet a pair of pace group leaders, one of them leading the 2:15 group.   I decided to see if I could simply hang with that group and get it done.   

Up early on race morning, I scored a primo parking spot, about as near as I could get to the finish line exit from the stadium...parking spot planning proved a major topic of thought all weekend, with two different finish line locations and three separate start lines and blocked streets abounding. 

Weather remained chilly, windy, grey, overcast, threatening of rain.   We chatted in the start grid on the late, chilly spring...for an April 30th race, we all had hoped for better.    We started in waves and got going on time.   

I fell in with the 2:15 group and it seemed comfortable early.   The course was quite serpentine, as the organizers had to get creative on how to snake a combined 10K and HM course all contained on or next to the U of I campus.   Thus, we had the wind in our face, then at our side, then at our back and then in our face again all morning.    

Around mile 5 or so, I was dismayed to find hanging with the pace group became more difficult for me.  My breathing was more labored and the legs were heavy.   Was this yet another disappointment like I saw four weeks earlier in Carmel?   I was concerned.   After some debate, I decided to shift from a steady run with the pace group to the more familiar 6/1 run/walk, using the same pacing I used in Carmel which could lead to a 2:15 HM finish.    

I reset my watch and lumbered on, discouraged.  

Some drizzle started, we took our first trip past the stadium to drop off the 10K runners, and we headed on a long, increasingly open trek through the prairie south of campus, home to many academic agricultural research projects, I’m sure.   The wide open farm ground was a jarring contrast to the academic, commercial and Oxfordesque old residential areas. 

I was working the 6/1 and gradually felt my legs coming back.  Some volunteers passing out orange slices added some citrusy zest.   The local Corvette club had a dandy display of cars I’ll never be able to afford.  There was no shelter from the wind in these open areas, though.   The drizzle stopped but the sky was foreboding.   I chatted with folks a bit to pass the time...a first-time half marathoner was feeling encouraged by mile 9.   A fellow baseball fan and I discussed Albert Pujols’ return to the St Louis Cardinals.   We plodded north, finally heading back to campus.  

Around mile 10.5, I flipped my Garmin screen to see my aggregate pace.   To my utter surprise, it was at 10:14/mile.  The pace for a 2:15 HM was 10:18/mile...and I was just a tad quicker!!   I was amazed...I didn’t feel like I was anywhere close to that pace, even though I had been trying to do just that all along, both with the pace team and with my own run/walk calculations.   Really?   Might I actually end up close to 2:15 after feeling so lousy about the entire deal??    

Many turns remained, as the course continued to feel like the waiting line to ride with Dumbo at Disney World.  Around mile 11, the rain started again in earnest.  The wind kept pounding.   I didn’t feel much better but my watch said I was still on pace.   Zigging and zagging, we eventually made our final left then right turns to head into the stadium and the 50 yard line.    

Remembering my grimace at the 5K finish the night before, I decided to appear more positive in the free photos at the HM finish.  

Over the line, a look at my watch and I was thrilled to have actually beat the 2:15 target.    

I found the 2:15 pacer who was still hanging out at the finish line.   We chatted and she said “Yeah, I was a little quick at the start” but she was happy I came in under my goal.   I had to have the photo...it’s nice to have my personal pacer, or so it appears.   

I quickly left the football field, knowing there was warm food, no rain, no wind and my drop bag waiting in the concourse.  I wasn’t disappointed. Chocolate milk, Doritos and a slice of pizza tasted great.   The dry shirt from my bag was even better.   

I made the short walk to my car and headed home.  

Ultimately, the most instructive moment from the HM happened later when I got a close look at my official pace chart from the various timing mats around the course. 

Had you shown this chart to me before the race, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.   Steady, consistent pace, all at the target pace.  Yet, this consistency was in marked contrast to how I felt along the way...it banged all over the place.   

I was pleased with the three races in two days.   Each was useful and I always enjoy race day.   Moving on now to some summer ultras.

Persevere.

.