Tag: race

72 degrees
77% humidity
Half Marathon Race/Red White and Boom

I’m not disappointed with my race, even though I did not stick to my plan, which was to stop every 1.25 miles and walk. I stopped many more times. I had several problems. The first problem: I couldn’t stop at 1.25 miles because it was too crowded. Second: the double hills around 3.5 miles sucked up a lot of energy. Third: the hills around mile 8 were also exhausting. Fourth: It was too hot not to be carrying a water bottle with me. Getting water every 2.5 miles was too long.

My time was slower than I’d like and I resorted to walking, then running a little, then walking again for the last 2-3 miles. My biggest feeling at the end of the race: I’m done and I don’t have to race this again! This is the second time I’ve run this particular race and I think it’s clear to me: I don’t like it. The race is organized well. I just don’t like it. The route. The heat. The super early start (we got up at 4:45 and left the house by 5:45).

Random Things I Remember:

• Waiting in line for the porta potty before the race started and just barely making it to the start line.
• The very slim and tall young woman ahead of me in a white tank top with bright blue shorts.
• Stepping on something and having my feet stick to the ground on every step for about a mile.
• How crowded it was for the first 2 miles.
• Feeling wiped out by the first big hill at around 3 and a half miles.
• The guy who was fat shaming Rosie O’Donnell.
• The other guy who yelled to his friends as they passed the 2:05 pacing group: “come on! unless you want to run as slow as this group!”
• Initially being annoyed by the pacer running near me because of his loud trivia game but then seeing him as a fellow runner and person when he had to stop pacing because the humidity was making it difficult for him to breathe. An important reminder to see the humanity in everyone first, before anything else.
• The loud “woo hoo” that erupted behind me by some runner–it couldn’t possibly be the same one every time–when we approached a water stop.
• Hearing a race volunteer yell out to a runner pushing a stroller, “Alright! Making it a family affair.” And then another runner yelling out, “That’s illegal!” I’m pretty sure it is. Almost always, races like this don’t allow strollers. 
• The women on the bus yelling at the cops directing traffic to stop the runners and let the bus go through so that she could get to work. That same woman yelling at the runner just in front of me because the runner was giving her a snarky look. I struggle with how to feel about this one. Shutting down streets for the race can be a big burden for non-racers who need the roads. This incident seems to highlight the privilege involved with racing. Yet, I appreciate that the roads are shut down.
• Encountering a woman who was breathing so heavily that I thought she might pass out as she passed me while I was taking a walk break. Passing her when I started running. Then having her pass me when I walked again.
• Listening in as two women planned their future training runs. “When should we do our next 10 mile run?”
• Watching as two runners stopped so that one of them, a woman in a bra and skirt, could stretch her ankle, which seemed to be hurt.
• Walking up a hill that never seemed to end.
• Listening in on another conversation as one woman told the other, “We already passed her. I hope she isn’t mad that I didn’t say hi. I think it’s rude to say hi when you’re passing someone.”
• Approaching the halfway point, and the place where the first member of the relay teams finished and then next one began, and hearing a guy who was running in the relay yell out “which way to I go?” as he approached some orange cones dividing the road. Because it was very clearly marked, with a sign and volunteers directing you, I wondered if he was joking or serious.
• The annoying volunteer that kept yelling out, “come on, smile! smiles are required!”
• Not smiling and hearing him say, “I guess we’ve got some tired runners out there.”
• Watching the pacer who had stopped pacing earlier in the race pass me at around mile 11.
• A tall man running with his head tilted sharply down to the right. I wondered, was he exhausted or does he always run that way?
• Overheard several times by several different groups: Are you okay? Can you keep running?
• Overheard by a woman to her friend as they approached a porta potty with a long line: “Are you going to stop?” The woman answered: “Nah, I’m good.” Her friend: “Are you sure?”
• Giving a few high-fives to kids who had their hands stretched out on the route.
• Hearing one runner say, “Hey, what’s that?” Their running buddy: “A monument.” The first runner, again: “Cool. Hey, check out that library. They don’t make libraries like that anymore. I want to go there.”

That’s all I can remember.

 

 

44 degrees
get in gear 10k race
mississippi river road north (msp)/lake street bridge/mississippi river road south (st. paul)/ford bridge/minnehaha falls

I think that this post-race picture of me with my tongue sticking out about sums up my feelings about the race right after it was over:

A post shared by Scott Anderson 📎 (@room34) on Apr 29, 2017 at 7:59am PDT

It might be my slowest 10K ever. The time doesn’t bother me that much. I’m trying to go slower and my average pace in the race was still about 45 seconds faster than training runs. What bothers me the most is that my hamstring started giving me problems around mile 4. It became difficult to lift it up and the rest of the race was hard. There’s a lot more to say here, I’m sure, but I’ll leave it alone for now. 

After a little more distance from the race, I began remember things about it that didn’t involve my pain or failure, like standing in the corral just before the race started and looking at everyone’s running shoes. As we stood there, I mentioned to Scott that I love doing this: so many intense colors and I can stare at people’s feet for a long time while I try to process what I’m seeing without it being too weird. How many times have I made this same remark to Scott? Too many to count, I’m sure. Yet, as I say it, it always seems like a new revelation that I’m communicating about my quirky vision and how I struggle to focus on images because my central vision is scrambled. At this race, my favorite pair of shoes were an intense blue with lime green stripes and laces.

I also remember the National Anthem. This happens at every race right before it starts. They play a recording or someone sings–frequently it’s one of the racers. Occasionally they have live musicians. My favorite National Anthem was at the Get in Gear race two years ago when a brass quartet from the Minnesota Orchestra played it. After that, they played the William Tell Overture as we began running through the starting gate. Pretty cool. I have some serious problems with patriotism and nationalism and how they’re used to regulate behaviors and maintain an “us versus them” mentality, yet I still appreciate the playing of the anthem. I enjoy anticipating which version it will be: the standard recording with the crashing cymbals?, a super cheesy recording with a choir? Someone who can sing? Someone who can’t?

I remember walking around and seeing people stretching. Leaning up against trees. Sitting on the ground. Swinging their arms. Swinging their legs. Jumping, running and swinging. Lots of swinging. It can be dangerous. I almost got hit by someone’s leg as they swung it back, stretching their hip.

Check out the runner just behind me, stretching with the tree:

A post shared by Scott Anderson 📎 (@room34) on Apr 29, 2017 at 6:37am PDT

And I remember waiting in line for the porta potty. The guy ahead of me was nervous or impatient or just a jerk, I couldn’t decide. As we waited, he kept trying to direct  the people ahead of him, pointing out which potty he thought was open and telling them to go. He was always wrong.

Valentine’s Day 5K
Lake Nokomis
25:25 (8:11 pace)

Excellent race. Not my fastest time ever, but solid. My goals were to run each mile faster than the last, to hit about an 8:15 pace, to not stop and walk at all and to have fun and enjoy the experience. I achieved all of those goals and ran the entire race with Scott. It’s a great start to my ultra summit challenge (5K in feb, 10 mile in march, 13.1 in july, 26.2 in oct). I’m relieved to know that even though I’ve been running almost all of my miles about 90 seconds slower in training, I can still go faster when I need/want to.

Reflections in List Form

• I only used the porta potty once and there was no line!
• The last 20 minutes before the start of the race seemed to take forever, but it wasn’t cold, so I can’t bitch about it…too much.
• Only saw 1 or 2 people wearing shorts.
• Costumes observed: couple dressed up as Wall-e and Eve, several women wearing tutus and a woman in Paul Frank footie pajamas.
• Youngest runner: 10 or 11 year old boy who also had an ultra summit race bib, which means he’s running the marathon. Can you run the marathon when you’re only 11? What a bad ass.
• Favorite announcer dude, who announces almost all of the races…running and triathlon…that I’ve done (Galen), wasn’t there.
• The guy who sang “The Star Bangled Banner” was good–nice voice and no crazy runs. My favorite version of the National Anthem was before the Get in Gear 10K in 2015: a brass quartet from Minnesota Orchestra. As the runners began the race, they also played the “William Tell Overture.”
• Almost 2000 runners, but it didn’t seem crowded.
• Most annoying conversation overheard: [two runners, having a casual conversation, running about an 8 minute pace] Runner 1: “So how long have you been running now?” Runner 2: “Oh, this is my first time running this distance. I’ve only been running 3 times a week for about 6 months.” Actually, that conversation was not that annoying. It was only annoying when I thought he said 2 months, but I had misheard him, according to Scott. 
• Mile 1: 8:22 pace. Most distinctive memory: Hearing Jessie J’s “Bang Bang” song as we ran by the big beach at Lake Nokomis and feeling compelled to explain to Scott who was singing. Why? Not sure.
• Mile 2: 8:16 pace. Most distinctive memory: Asking Scott if we were at 2 miles and not feeling any panic when we answered, “no, just one and a half.”
• Mile 3: 7:59 pace. Most distinctive memory: Observing another runner who seemed to be trying to race us, thinking that I didn’t care if she passed us and then realizing that I actually did when we passed her for good just before the 3 mile mark.
• .1: 6:48 pace. Most distinctive memory: Feeling like I was going to hyperventilate when I stopped running at the finish unless I kept walking, so walked in circles while waiting to get my medal, looking like a fool or a spaz or both.
• Post race food: water bottle, peanut butter stuffed chocolate cliff bar, chips and sugar cookie for daughter.

25:25. #vday5k #ultrasummitchallenge

A photo posted by Scott Anderson 📎 (@room34) on Feb 11, 2017 at 8:28am PST