Location: Charleston, SC
Date: January 14, 2011
Placing: 10th Overall, 1st Master
Format: Half Marathon
My Race Photos
Official Race Photos
Results: Click Here

Preface

Total bummer. For you. You see, I didn't quit racing this year. And that means more race reports. Really, you're only chance at relief is if I finally get tired of all this exercise nonsense. But don't hold your breath - I was tired of it in 1988, 1994, 1998, 2004 and 2010. So your odds are not good because you can see what came of that. Just be happy I was too busy hanging out under the "Hot Now" sign at Krispy Kreme and catching up on House episodes to write my last two race reports of 2011. But I can catch you up right now: Spinx Runfest Half Marathon - 8th overall and San Antonio Rock n' Roll Half Marathon - 35th overall, 2nd Master. There, now I'm up on House episodes and you are up on how my 2011 ended. One last thing. San Antonio had 19,500 runners and I started just 2 feet behind Shalane Flanagan who just won the Olympic Trials this past weekend in record time. I was so close I could touch her. I mean, I'm not saying I tried...but I'm also not saying I didn't think about it. Let's get to the race at hand...

One of my nicer acrylic awards...it goes nicely with my miniature guitar awards from the Rock n' Roll Half Iron. Getting old isn't so bad if you can keep from getting slower.

Pre-race Musings

Man, if us guys had a quarter for every time we heard this: "Could you please shave your legs at the gym, you're gonna clog our shower drain". Am I right, guys? Guys? Anyway, I can't remember the last time I went almost 4 months without shaving my legs. But the point here is that I've been shaving my legs since I was 15. I didn't start racing until I was 25. Just kidding. The first "shave of the season" is almost like the scene in Rocky when the theme plays and they show Rocky training for his big fight. Except that he is carrying logs through the snow and eating raw eggs and I am wielding a razor in the shower and then ordering a smoothie at the smoothie bar. It's like we're one and the same person. Now most runners don't shave their legs but as a multi-sport athlete I jsut can't stand the unsightly hair..let's do this 2012 thing!

Although Janis and I do a pretty good job of mingling with the commoners, it is no secret that when we travel to races we like to drop our facade and embrace our blue blood lines. After all, we belong to a very elite class of people known as "priority club platinum members". It's a highly selective group of people who just happen to spend tons of money at Holiday Inn hotels. This past weekend was a perfect example of our societal pull. When we arrived at the historic Mills House Hotel and the clerk saw my TeamKattouf/Fleet Feet apparel she instantly waived the valet parking fee and put Janis and I in the $440-a-night presidential suite. That is not a joke. We looked up the room rate. It was more like a house than a hotel room...it was like we were in an alternate universe where Friday the 13th brought incredibly GOOD luck instead of bad. We actually hated being there for just one night with all that room and nobody to share it. By the way...when we saw chocolates on the bed, we both instinctively ran to the other bedroom where another set of chocolates awaited our invisible friends (who loved them very much).

You might have to get out your binoculars to see me way back in the other corner of the 'living area'. I'm not sure why we were upgraded to the 'arena room', but in my mind it's because of Janis' good looks and my athletic prowess.

We met fellow TeamKattoufer Rex Morgan and his wife Roxann for dinner at a cute little Italian restaurant (Bocci's) downtown where we poured beer down our gullets and told tales of how when we were younger we ran a marathon to school every day...each way...barefoot...in the snow. Our waiter took one look at our chiseled physiques and asked if we were running the next day. He told us that he would be running the half - his first. We told him that it was really going to be a lot easier than he thought - especially if he skipped breakfast and just drank a ton of coffee. As penance, we left a large tip. Who says runners are "always so serious". I made plans to avoid the Port-o-potties at the start line.

Janis and I are the equivalent of a team of 20 logisticians. Everything is planned down to the minute. Escape routes are determined and we make back-up plans for our back-up plans. It is exactly like an episode of Mission:Impossible right down to the expected pre-race call from coach Rick..."G-Man, wasssssuuuup? Your mission, should you decide to accept it...". I always accept the mission - it's part of my genetic code. When I first started with Rick, this call was more like haggling at a flea market; "Keep your heartrate at 145 through mile 3...", "How about 150?", "146", "148?", "...OK, 148" SOLD! to the bitter old man in lycra. Now that I trust Rick's plan we talk about politics, religion and the weather.

Bring it

We arrived at our pre-determined parking area 3 minutes ahead of schedule. We were parked less than 200 feet from the start all by ourselves. I could literally throw a rock to the start line and yet we didn't see a soul. A quarter mile up the road, we could barely see cars backed up trying to get into the parking garage listed on the race literature. We just looked at each other and thought..."amateurs". I got ready for my warmup and had 4 extra minutes to do a crossword puzzle. I left the car at precisely 7:30 am and returned at 7:45 am. Based on the 33-degree temps and my warmup, I made my race clothing selection. I went with something form-fitting and off-the-shoulder that complemented my eyes. I opted for "Jet Blackberry" as my GU flavor of choice because it most described my mood and the purple wrapper screamed "don't mess with me". We walked to the start line where we stood hugging each other to stay warm - and so nobody would hear us talking about them as we played our little game "fast...or not" where we look at someone lined up at the front and wonder if they should really be lined up in the front or not. After the race, I have to report back to Janis our results. I wonder on which side of the game I fall when people look at me on the start line with my gray-speckled beard and triathlon shorts? I hope I fall on the "what's HE doing up here side". It's more fun to be the underdog.

Hmmmm...fast or not? I find that ususally the people who are the quietest and least boisterous are the ones who have a hidden confidence that translates to 'fast'.

The absolute crowning moment of the race happened next. The Charleston Mayor pro tem took the microphone and made some announcements. He turned over the mic to the singer of the National Anthem (who was also running the race and apparently was a local celebrity). He then took the mic back and announced, "I'll say 'runners ready, go'" at which point he then said "Runners ready!". The whole lot of us quickly glanced left to right because we were all thinking the same thing..."you're standing in the middle of the road". But nobody uttered a word in that instance and our fears became reality. "GO!" The mayor - 10 feet in front of 2,000 runners jumping off the start line - instantly realized what a mistake he had made. I would say he looked like a deer in headlights but I've never seen a deer's eyes get THAT big. He literally lunged for the side of the road. Mistake number 2. I somehow narrowly missed the pile up that he cause at the edge of the road. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I chose laugh because in all honesty it was hilarious. It was the topic of conversation as we all trotted up to speed. "Can you beleive he did that?" "Yeah, I thought surely he's not going to stand in the middle of the road and say 'go'". Surely...he did.

"Hey, you don't think one of those guys over there is going to stand in the middle of the road and yell 'GO', do you?"...

A half-mile in I reached my prescribed heartrate and I started to let people pull away. I would venture to guess 30-35 people in front of me at mile 1 where I recorded a 6:12 mile. Ahead I could see the leader in bright red shorts making a turn already about 30 seconds ahead of me. I let the HR go up just a couple of beats in mile 2 and very comfortably hit 6:26. I was running in a strung out group of 5 or 6 people at this point and was having fun watching the reactions of guys as the lead woman just ahead of me would pass them. The absolute first rule of performing your best in endurance racing is to set your ego free. It's also one of the hardest rules for a very competitive person. At almost the exact moment we hit mile 3, a guy ran past our little group. It probably looked like I took off after him but all I was doing was taking my HR up another 8-10 beats. That was a pretty big jump and my mile 3 split dropped to 5:53. I would spend the next 7 miles "chasing" that guy...into a harsh Northern headwind. At first he pulled away and opened up about a 200-meter gap. I stayed true to my plan as the two of us methodically picked off runner after runner.

Now every once in a while I prove to myself that I'm not really a smart man. And it had been a while so I was due. During my past 2 months of training things had been going great. But just one week ago I had a terrible long training run. Not terrible as in I ate wrong or I was tired. Terrible as in asthma-related. With some rain and Spring-like temps in Greenville, the plant life played a number on me. After the run, Janis and I wondered if taking a 'hit' of my inhaler in the middle of my run would help. Don't get ahead of me. Now, you have to know that for the last 3 years since I was diagnosed with allergy-induced asthma, very few of the drugs they prescribed have had ANY effect on my situation aside from a shot I get called Xolair. I quit using everything else almost as soon as I started - including my inhaler. I've taken it a few times before races in the past but again, I've seen no effect. So, call me a moron...or call me an experimental genius but today, I was going to try our little test.

I'm sure it's tough to spot me in this picture since I am dressed as a ninja, but if you look just in front of the yellow cones you can see me.

I certainly wasn't feeling bad, but my brain said "wait, how do you know that your lungs haven't been degrading faster becuase of your asthma during the run?" Which was a pretty good sentence for my brain at this point in a race. So just moments before I hit mile 10, when I was supposed to take my HR up for the last time, I took 2 large puffs of my inhaler. Hmmm. No "tingly" feeling like my lungs opening up. As a matter of fact, it felt like a normal breath. No change. I just held the inhaler for the rest of the race and kicked it up just the tiniest bit. I was closing in on the guy who passed me at mile 3 and at this point we had passed 15-20 runners along the way. I focused hard on his back on a long straightaway when it hit me. My first wheeze. It is the most ironic thing in the course of human physiology. I have been telling people for 3 years that I don't believe I actually have asthma becuase "...I've never even wheezed once in my life". Just under a minute had passed since I took a hit off my inhaler and now - after taking asthma medicine - I was wheezing. At first it came across as just something wierd like I swallowed a bug - or an elephant, but it quickly turned to a bit of fear. I thought "what have I done?" I hoped it didn't get worse or that I didn't go into shock or anything. As long as it remained a 'wheeze' and didn't turn into a 'gasp', I kept pushing. But my push was now limited to just 1 or 2 extra heartbeats instead of 5 or 6.

Oh yes, the infamous head tilt. Don't tell my competitors but the head tilt is the sure-fire sign that I am on the rivet. If you ever see my head perpendicular to the road I am probably running a 4:00 mile.

I caught my quarry at mile 11. He said he was going to try to stay with me. The problem was that he was not on the Kattouf plan. He was apparently on the "G-Man before Rick" plan. He was getting slower and I was going faster. At mile 12 who should I see but red-shorts guy who led the race through the first mile. I ran a 5:49 last mile to catch him just 50 yards before the finish line - and there was no way I could sneak up on him since I was breathing like a chain saw. I crossed under the finish banner at 1:20:03. Since it was the same course as last year, my Garmin once again showed the course as a pretty good bit long. And with the huge amount of headwind, this time can easily be extrapolated to about a 1:09:00 on a perfect day...in a vaccuum. Running down a mountain. I was 10th overall and 1st Master. For fun, I like to look at my finish like this: no matter what age group I raced today, I would have made top 3.

'red-shorts guy': 30 seconds ahead of me at mile 1...5 seconds behind me at mile 13.1. Prepare for pain to stop in 3...2...1...ahhhhh.

Something that really puzzled me were the awards. Wait, I said that wrong. They gave me a puzzle as an award. Yeah, I thought that was pretty cool. I got a framed print of historic Charleston from a local artist AND a 550-piece puzzle of his print. Great award since Janis and I love doing puzzles. Not a bad start to 2012 - my 108th season of racing...or somewhere thereabouts.

Notes:
* In one of the eeriest coincidences in racing history, the "guy in the red shorts" that I beat by 5 seconds was none other than Nicholas Sykes (age 20) - younger brother of Stephen Sykes. If you've read some of my prior race reports over the years, you will know that Stephen Sykes and I at one point had a series of a dozen races or so where our total finishing time differential was something like 8 seconds. Let's hope there's not another younger brother. I really don't want to be racing this family when I'm 90.
* At least 8 employees from where I work (ScanSource) ran this event including one who won her age group in the marathon and my CEO who set a PR here. 10 years ago, you were lucky to find 8 people who even ran at my company.
* All this talk about asthma and wouldn't you know it, their finish area was a huge tent that they set up on a dirt field. The dust was so thick it was like a fog. There was no way I was going to risk spending any time in there so Instead I had to wait for awards outside in the 30-degree weather.
* You know how I like to point out sometimes that these people are half my age. Well, I'm not sure whether or not I'm happy to report that the winner today was...1/3 my age!!. The cool thing? He is a brand new TeamKattoufer. Congrats Tony Morales (age 16!)
* TeamKattoufer Rex Morgan successfully completed his first full marathon less than 10 minutes off of his Boston Marathon qualifying time. Awesome run for a 1st marathon.

Next Up: Greenville News Downtown 5k. I hope we get to chase the cow for Chick-Fil-A coupons again this year!

I'm no longer puzzled...

Location: Charleston, SC
Date: April 2, 2011
Placing: 77th Overall (37,000 finishers), 3rd 45-49
Format: 10k Run
Race Photos: Island Photography (you'll have to key in bib #38)
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here

NOTE: I didn't wind up with any real race photos to speak of this time, so I thought I would ad lib...

Ahhh. The Cooper River Bridge Run. Me and 40,000 of my closest friends trying desperately to get out of Mount Pleasant, SC. I imagine the sight would be similar if unfriendly aliens had landed in San Francisco and deactivated everything electronic or with a motor and the entire population had to escape over the Golden Gate Bridge. Sure go ahead and laugh but all this running, riding and swimming I do is secretly in preperation for just such a day. It's likely only the first humdred or so humans will make it to safety and it's looking pretty good for me. How about you?

The Bridge Run always reminds me of my days as a stunt double for David Lee Roth. Good times.

Have you ever seen the movie Same Time Next Year? Well, if you haven't seen that you must've seen Groundhog Day? Often times this is what it feels like when you do the same race - with many of the same people. A famous quote often attributed to Einstein defines insanity as "doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results". People who enter events and expect faster times are (by defnition) insane. Not me. This quote proves that I am NOT insame because I enter the same event expecting the SAME results; the same results I had when I was 20 years younger ;-) Or, in the case of the Bridge Run - one year younger. Of course that quote doesn't exactly hold true in racing anyway because there are so many factors that the only reason we keep coming back for more is the staunch belief that even when we did our fastest time, it is likely that not everything was exactly perfect. It's this assumption that allows us to rationalize our insanity. Psychology lesson 1 complete.

Sticking with the movie theme...I gotta tell you - Janis and I are like the supercomputer in War Games. We have been travelling to events for so long that we have ammassed a knowledge about the logistics of racing that is almost ninja-like. And when we go to an event, we instantly learn how to adapt the next time we go to make our experience better. Here's an example: On the way to Charleston Friday night for packet pick-up, I changed into running attire and had Janis drive the last portion. Last year, we were stuck in a huge traffic jam around the auditorium where thousands of people were trying to get their packets. Lesson learned. We got off the highway early and took a side road near the bridge until we were about a mile away. Then Janis found a free place to pull over (a post office) and I jumped out of the car with my waist pack on and jogged to the auditorium. I ran in - directly to my packet pickup area (I am fortunate enough to have a seperate pick-up area for local elite runners) - grabbed my packet, and jogged back to the car. In fifteen minutes I got my packet, and got my 2-mile warm-up jog. In the meantime, Janis read a few dozen pages of her novel in the relaxed solitude of an empty parking lot. Less than 10 minutes later, we were at the hotel. And that, my friends is how it's done. Stress-free.

Disturbing? Maybe. But it's this kind of mind that pushes me beyond normal limitations.

Part of our plan this year included combining our knowledge with a couple of other Bridge Run pros - Bob Mancuso and Ruth McDonough (our awesome massage therapists). Ruth and Janis had their own plan devised for spectating and they left just before 7am to make it across the bridge into Chucktown before the bridge closed to all traffic. Ruth had a secret place to park that was a few blocks from the finish line and they had their coffee shop already 'pre-selected'. I jogged the mile and a quarter to the start as part of my warmup. The temperature was a bit warmer than last year - just over 50 degrees. Perfect running weather. With all the lung-related issues I've had the last couple of years, I no longer had the consistency that I took for granted most of my racing life. These days, it was a roll of the dice and my expectations are somewhat relaxed. I just remember that my worst day still impresses me - and I'm the only one that counts. I actually felt pretty good but that totally means nothing. After a billion races I've learned that how you feel before a race is about as good an indicator of your performance as flipping a coin would be.

A little too pretentious? Well, get used to it because I'm 46 now; it's only a matter of time before I start breaking out the costumes at races. Pray for Janis.

American Idol winner Ruben Studdard belted out the National Anthem and a group of past participants from The Biggest Loser gave the crowd some imspiration. All the while I spent jogging back and forth playing 'pick the winner' from the large number of African runners that were warming up. I ran back to the course to watch the wheelchair athletes take off. An impressive display of upper body strength. God forbid something should put me into a wheelchair, I would take up the challenge right beside them. You don't become a good athlete by seeing obstacles; you become one by accepting challenges.

We lined up to start. This year, those that were selected as 'elites' would start in a small wave that consisted of anyone who could prove a time under 40:00 so it was a bit more crowded than last year when about 60 of us got to start a few yards ahead of the rest of the group. The gun sounded and I did what I always do - I ran hard until my heartrate reached its appointed place and then settled in. Twice I had to literally muscle my way between 2 runners that started way too fast and were blocking my way. It didn't bother me that they took off too fast - so I hope it didn't bother them that they got a little 'elbow time' from me.

I don't line up ON the front line...I AM the front line. It's funny how I look so much more 'gaunt' in my race photos. The camera actually subtracts about 40 pounds. Mostly from my arms.

I had memorized my mile splits from last year because, well, that's what we do. And even though I was racing by heartrate and had no intentions of letting my mile splits change my strategy, I was still anxious to see if I was anywhere near my optimal speed from last year. Mile 1 was a 5:21. From which year you ask? Both. Yep, my first mile for both years was exactly the same. Well hell - that's a good sign. At the end of mile 2 we started up the bridge and I throttled my heartrate; staying on task and allowing a good number of people to pass me. *Beep*. Mile 2 = 6:05. Last year? 5:49. Oops. I looked at my Garmin and almost out loud pondered "Is this thing working?".

I finally crested the top of the bridge at mile 3. *Beep* Mile 3 = 6:13. Last year? 5:49 again. Aw, c'mon. But here's a few things that I was aware of but never seemed to process. First of all, at this pace I would've expected more people to be passing me - but since we started up the grade, I believe I ended up with a 'positive pass rate'. Also, there were several people I knew around me and relative to our placings last year I was in better position. Lastly, the thing that should have blown me over was the thing that was blowing me over: the wind. All across the bridge I was getting buffeted around and was actually looking for small groups of runners to draft off of (never really had the opportunity) and yet I never put two and two together while I was running. Like I mentioned in my first couple of paragraphs...I just kept expecting the SAME RESULTS when everything around me was telling me the conditions were obviously different.

That Janis. She's so sly. I don't know how she fools me time after time after time after...

As I stop the story for minute at mile 3, I have to tell you one thing that has made me chuckle both years. The organizers of this event - the 3rd largest 10k in the US - can not seem to get the mile markers right to save their life. They are not like 5 or 10 feet off; they're like an entire state off. If you go back and read my race report from last year you will read about how a group of us passed mile 2 with a 5:00 mile. We all laughed out load at how that was the 'fastest mile we've ever done in a 10k'. Of course the clock and marker were way short. This year, mile 2 was right where it was supposed to be. But mile 3? Let's just say that I once again clocked a 5:00 mile. I mean really. How hard is it to get these things in the right place? Absolute hilarity. Oh yeah, and one more funny thing as we approached their mile 3. I watched as one runner just ahead of me refused to move over even the slightest bit to let another runner fit between himself and the race clock on the side of the bridge. I totally winced as the passing runner double-stepped back behind the other runner at the last instant and missed hitting the clock by millimeters.

Mile 4. Hell yeah - all downhill. Since I get to keep the same heartrate going down that I held going up this is the part where we see some fireworks. But it was more like a firecracker. Last year I flew down the hill at a 5:07 pace (and that was a 'real' mile) and picked people off left and right. This year, it was like running through peanut butter...another 21 seconds slower than last year. But my brain was thrilled that I was not having any heartrate problems and so on I pushed; still seeming to make up ground on other runners. At the bottom of the bridge I took up my heartraet to it's highest zone and I passed Tom Mather whom I had beaten by just a few seconds last year at this race - but who had beaten me by about 40 seconds last month at the Reedy River 10k. Another decent sign for me.

An actual race photo! Just a few yards away from the finish line - I felt dead, and yet adding an extra 8 miles on afterwards in preparation for the Boston Marathon went extremely well.

Miles 5 and 6 were now spent in the pain zone. I was amazed to see mile 5 was only 5 seconds off of last year. We were back out of the wind now and I STILL hadn't put it together yet. Halfway through mile 6 I was begging for the final turn to show up. I was at the end of my rope and had nothing left. *Beep* Mile 6 = 5:37. Which year? Both. That's right, my first mile and my last mile were exactly the same as last year. Somewhere in the middle I had lost 1:13 but I was not aware of all that as I shuffled across the line. Getting passed in the last second by a runner who had beaten me by 5 seconds last year. I had even made up time on him. Only after talking to some of the other runners did it finally become apparent that the wind ahd played a large roll in our times today. Most of the faster runners (many of whom did not have the benefit of hiding in the draft of large groups of people) reported a differnce of close to a mintue. Whew. If that's the case, I was looking at only a very slight speed difference from last year. Excellent news.

But my fun was not over. With the "Big Dance" coming up in 2 weeks (Boston Marathon), coach Rick had prescribed an additional 8 miles. After that kind of effort, I had little hope of feeling 'spry' but these 8 miles - which I did by running back and forth down a 1/3-mile section of a closed 6-lane road - turned out to be almost a better thing than the race itself. At what felt like a moderate jog, I averaged a 6:45 pace for another 8 miles. I even ended up running the first couple of those miles with a guy who finished just a few seconds ahead of me. A guy who I did not know but who turned out to also be named Chris (Lowe) and who lives ON the Boston Marathon course. Too cool.

I realized that as I finished my 8 miles, I had to get to the elite bus where my clothes were. And now, the only way to get to the street it was on was to actually jump back into the race for a few blocks and make my way over there. I then had to do it again in order to 'exit' the area. After that, I jogged directly to the Starbuck's a few blocks away where Janis, Ruth and Bob were already enjoying some food and drinks - and a glorious day.

My final placing was 77th overall out of about 37,000 finishers. Last year I was 62nd so that's not really a big statistical diffence. Although this year, One 'uber-runner' showed up at the age of 45 and turned a 31-minute time and change (18th overall). It says he's from New Mexico but his name tells me he grew up in a place where they run from birth. Another 45-year-old beat me by about 40 seconds giving me 3rd this year in my age group. A time and result that I am happy with heading into Boston.

Race Notes:
* Just in case I hadn't said it in a while...thanks to Fleet Feet Sports, Team Kattouf Coaching, Rudy Project, Garmin and Mauldin Chiropractic for your support. You all rock!
* For all the problems they have with placing the mile markers, my Garmin had the course at 6.25 miles both years (a 10k is 6.20 miles).
* While I was running in my 'little' 10k, 3 of my friends were running a trail race (Umstead): Jackie Lafontaine, Mike Pastore and Eric Gelber. Jackie took 10th overall out of 103 finishers in the 50-miler. Mike and Eric both set PR's and finished in the top 25% of the 100-miler by running for just over 20 hours!
* .

Next Up: Boston Marathon...or as I like the call it "the Boston"

Finn thought he owned the place when we got to the hotel...

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: February 12, 2011
Placing: 2nd Overall
Format: 10-mile Running Race
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here

I received quite a few comments on my last race report - apparently everyone was enthralled with the idea of cow-chasing. Nothing nearly as spectacular this time. We had no cow to catch. No, this week - it was a GOAT! OK. Not really. Unless you consider Kevin Mosteller a goat (his ears and chin are kind of 'goatish' but I'll leave it up to you). And by the way, his name is pronounced "Most-stellar". At least that's how I like to pronounce it with the kind of flair that a rap star might put on it. Because, by all accounts...he is "most stellar". He would have made a great training partner for the Boston Marathon this year - if he hadn't been shut out by the registration system. Then again, I'm not really sure he deserved to go in place of others since he ONLY beat his qualifying time by 40 minutes. But as usual, I digress...

Yeah, no - it's not some form of new arctic animal. It is Coach Rick letting us know that it is C-O-O-O-L-D

I've done 4 running races in just over a month and I swear each one has been progressively colder than the one before. I could be like a lot of people and scoff at the idea of "global warming" after 2 of the coldest Winters in a row but I'm smarter than that. I know that something like global warming isn't an overnight phenomenon. Al Gore might just have the last laugh in a few hundred thousand years. In the meantime, I'm afraid to show up for the Reedy River Run in a week for fear of a second ice age.

It was a really sparse turnout this year. At least that's what I thought until I discovered that I somehow got the start time wrong by what seemed like 2 days. I felt so amateur - not only for getting the start time wrong, but also for being 'that guy' who is sitting in his car waiting for them to get registration set up. I mean it's great to be excited about racing but at least give people the illusion that you have a life outside of exercise. Fortuantely, I didn't drag Janis with me today to wallow beside me in my shame.

Scotie and Finn try to help pin my number on...but it's hard enough WITH opposable thumbs

After my failed attempt to nap in my car for an hour or so - which just seemed to make me more tired - I finally got up the energy to brave the just-under-30-degree temps to do about a 2-mile warmup. Amazingly, I actually managed to warm up during my warmup and felt comfortable stripping down to my Kattouf shorts and socks, a long-sleeve shirt under my Fleet Feet singlet, and gloves. I must have looked stunning in my color - and sponsor - coordinated outfit. I was confident that if they had decided at the very last moment that it was too cold to run and that we would be judged solely on our attire, I would podium for sure. Only the cheetah skirt could have elevated me another place or two. But then again, I'm not sure I could pull it off anymore. That was a younger, more svelte G-Man.

Team K pose with Gail Kattouf - who won the women's event, Tom Calamia (yellow cap) - who raced his first 8k, and Coach Rick who is really just a figure head

We all moseyed over to the start line when the announcer started barking over the megaphone (which, if it had been named by the people at Starbuck's would have been caled a 'superhumongargatuanphone'). One of his first announcements was "...I'll say 'runners ready'...and then 'go'" After which he immediately said "Runners ready. GO!". Mmmm, yeah. We totally were not expecting that. Several of us at the front were laughing as we started up the road. Did he just really do that? Kevin Most-stellar immediately starting pulling away from us as the lead group behind him slowly formed. In the first mile, the group is like an amoeba trying to take shape. People catching up; people dropping off; people jumping into the race...what?

Yeah, when we got to the first mile marker I looked around to see that I was in a group of about 7. I was surprised to see some people I hadn't noticed when we first took off including a couple of guys running together. At the time, I didn't think anything of it because I would never have guessed that someone would bandit a race of this size. I mean, maybe if you were trying to help a friend out with pacing but why would you and your buddy just decide to 'crash' a race? It can't be because you're lonely since you are running with your other bandit friend. I hope they didn't take any food or water at the stations becuase *I* paid for that stuff. I'm not necessarily saying that you shouldn't ever bandit a race because who knows if there will ever come a time when I need to bandit a race. Like when...well...an evil mastermind kidnaps my family and tells me that if I don't compete in a running race without paying for it, they will slowly release the poisonous gas into the secret chamber where my family is being held - just below the public library in Gotham City. I'm guessing this is exactly what was happening with the guys who were 'banditing' this race. It would HAVE to be because the only other explanation would be that they were afraid to get beat 'officially'. Oh yes I did.

A couple of seconds sooner and you would have seen the 6 or 7 guys that dropped me here as I kept to my prescribed heart rate. I got them all back...

This event is the perfect event for showcasing how running by HR can be so much more efficient. It is actually almost comical when seen throught the eyes of spectators or competitors. Our group was all together at the end of mile 1 right before an all-uphill mile 2. I had to back down to keep the HR in the right spot and so the rest of the group pulled away by a good 30 yards. Mile 3 was flat/rolling and I caught back up literally as we crossed the mile 3 marker. The next half-mile was a good, steady downhill and in order to keep the HR in line, I had to kick it up. I left the group. By mile 5, it was just me and the two bandit runners trading the lead. Every time the road went down, I left them behind and every time it went up, they caught back up.

At about mile 7.5 I used a good downhill to open up a gap but this time - when I hit mile 8 - I was allowed to take the HR up to maximal effort. I never looked back until the final half mile. There was nobody there. I crossed the line and still...nobody. It wasn't until this moment that I realized that the runners had to be bandits. They must have turned off the course somewhere in the final couple of miles. I crossed the line in 58:50. 2nd place. I told Coach Rick that although I know my first few races of the year were well off of pace because of allergy/asthma issues - I would still be disappointed if I could'nt break a 6:00-mile. I was thrilled to see a 5:53 pace. Just a few weeks ago, I couldn't even break a 6:10 pace on a flat half-marathon. It appears that I am returning to 'normal' although I'm not quite counting my chickens yet.

The money shot. Remembering to press the stop button on the Garmin at the exact moment you cross the line is no small feat

I mentioned how comical it might look racing by HR; slowing down on uphills and racing down the other side. Today I was with the group at mile 1, dropped at mile 2, back with the group at mile 3, and by the end of the race I had put more than a minute on the next closest runner. Comical? Maybe. But the results don't lie. One of the other nice things about running this race is that the course has been the same for many years. And I found it quite interesting to compare my Garmin data to my PR last year.

Fo-shizzle! It's Kevin "Most-Stellar" wearing his cap of eminence

Race Notes:
* Fleet Feet runners took 2nd, 4th and 5th overall.
* I felt good during the race but I was wasted during my cooldown (moreso than usual) and had trouble shuffling through 3 extra miles.

Next Up: the Reedy River 10k and Ironman Puerto Rico 70.3

The only man I trust my legs to...Bob "Magic Fingers" Mancuso

Ruth finally meets Finn. Finn says Ruth is his new BFF

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: January 22, 2011
Placing: 22nd Overall, 2nd Master, 1st 44+
Format: 5k Running Race
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here

My 3rd race in 3 weeks - this time a short, local event that is always fun and oddly enough...always cold. Go figure. I guess we forget that January is during what I like to call "Winter". Just because we have the word 'South' in our state name and 'Green' in our city name we have this belief that it should always be warm. I don't think we are fooling Mother Nature with that one - only ourselves. Of course, it could be worse. We often forget, it can ALWAYS be worse.

I've had a bit of a rougher start this year dealing with some lung issues that I still have trouble believing is 'allergy-induced asthma' - as it has officially been diagnosed. My skepticism derives mainly from the fact that it follows the rules of asthma about as much as 'carrot cake' follows the rules of 'deserts' (carrot cake is clearly a vegetable regardless of how you try to disguise the carrots). I feel more comfortable calling what I have 'alien bio-terrorism'. Anyway, this is the worst my alien bio-terrorism has been in 2 years and it's effects on me are minimal when you look at the big picture. But really, who's looking at the big picture. The total picture is that it makes me slower. Some would say I have no room to complain going from 1:16 half marathons to 1:20 half marathons but I would say I have 4 minutes room to complain...

But all of this is OK. It's OK because it helps to remind me that there are bigger fish to fry in our lives; more important things to focus on than just the second hand of a clock. There are things deep down in our hearts that make us run. Things that transcend winning. Today was not about a 16:45 time - or an award. No. Today was about a bigger goal. A goal from deep down inside me. With my wife Janis by my side at the start, I was there for one thing...and one thing only...to beat the cow.

One cow and you've got dinner. Two cows and you've got a herd

Two lungs, one lung, half a lung - there would be no excuses. Mano y Bovine. Now I have no beef with cows; so to speak. And Janis grew up around Wisconsin dairy farms. But do you know what I love more than cows? Chick-fil-a spicy chicken biscuits. Beat the cow = get free chicken biscuits. It's the kind of math that translates in every language. Let me bring you up to speed...

My friend Ashley - who used to work at Scansource with me and is a runner - now works for the Greenville News as an events coordinator. One of the events she works on is this race. A few weeks before the race she announced through Facebook that the Chick-fil-a cow would not only make an appearance this year but he would be running the race. Then came the real news. Beat the cow - get the goods. I got cocky and thought "that cow better be able to break 17 minutes or he'll be paying the piper and that's no bull". Then my friend started leaking some inside information. The "cow" typically runs a sub-16:00 5k. What?! I began to wonder - how much slower the "cow" will be with all his, uh, cow on.

Holy cow! Let's go "round 'em up" boys...

I started getting worried. I knew I was not at 100% and the last thing I wanted was to get my rump roasted by a cow. Plus I knew there was spicy chicken biscuit on the line. FREE spicy chicken biscuit. Did I mention, FREE? As we lined up, the cow emerged from the crowd and lined up in front of all of us. In the blink of an eye, the announcer mummbled something over the crowd about a head start and "BANG" the cow took off. "What?! Hey, they let the cow go early! That's a load of bull..." I looked around but it looked as if nobody cared. How could that be the case? They must have known about the FREE chicken within their grasps, no? I had no idea how much of a head start they were giving him but as the seconds - no minutes - ticked away, fear took control. When our gun finally went off it was like a stampede; I T-boned two kids and took off like I was possessed by Colonel Sanders. There were people all around me and yet nobody existed. Nobody except for the cow.

Moooooooooooo! ...and we're off

I had memorized my heartrate plan before the race but somewhere around mile one all I could think about was "cow, cow, cow,...". And then there he was. I was closing in on mile 2 when he was spotted. Actually, he was always spotted - but now I could see him. He was moooooving. I used the downhill to my advantage and was really hoofing it. Then I realized he was hoofing it 4 times as much. I made sure not to let him see my pain as I passed...there was so much at steak. I took the bull by the horns and gave a convincing burst.

And there it is. Just seconds ahead of 3rd place Master, Joe Hammond

I looked back only once as I ran down the finishing chute. I thought I herd him coming but victory was mine. I crossed the line in 17:41. It was utter elation. I think they tried to hand me a medal but I'm not sure because my eyes were like lasers fixated on the woman handing out the FREE chicken coupons - or as I call them, the FREE chicken trophies. Like a good competitor, I waited to watch the cow finish in an impressive 20 minutes or so (plus the 3 minute head start). I patted him on the back. I was milking this for all it was worth.

"What's that? Where's your brother? Oh, he's behind me. Why didn't you run? Oh I get it, too CHICKEN"

The victory was even sweeter when I received not one, but TWO free coupons attached to a small, plush, toy cow. Finally, something worthy to replace my 3rd place Ironman trophy. The cow stands majestically on the mantel; an ever-present reminder of the day I slaughtered the cow. Oh yeah, I was also the 2nd overall Master and got a beautiful piece of artwork to hang on the wall. I can't WAIT to get my chicken biscuits!

Biscuits for everyone!...well, by 'everyone' I mean 'everyone that beat the cow'...

Race Notes:
* Only 66 people beat the cow...which is less than the number of people who won awards.
* I continued a sort of one-on-one battle with another local Masters runner - Joe Hammond. I took less than 5 seconds out of Joe today. We had a good cooldown run together.
* My lung issues continue to show themselves in the form of slower times this year so far. Today, I was almost a minute slower than last year. That's nearly 20 seconds per mile. Stop and count to 20; it's a long time.

Next Up: the Green Valley 10-miler

Ed Hughes in his usual flairful fashion; dressed as "Captain Blue Shoes". He beat the cow - and won the 50+ age group

Location: Charleston, SC
Date: January 15, 2011
Placing: 17th Overall, 2nd Master, 1st 45+
Format: Half Marathon Running Race
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the run on Garmin by clicking HERE

Doing good at a race never does anything for me. What I mean is that when I perform 'well' - as defined by the little man inside my brain who is in charge of the G-Man record-keeping and race archive - I really just performed as I had hoped. That sounds great...but what it lacks is an incentive to push harder. It's like humming along with a solid 'B' in your trigonometry class. Yeah, I could just sail through the semester right there in the "comfort zone". 'B' is good, right? But what happens when you have a bad test and it drops you down to almost a 'C'? Or maybe you ace a test and suddenly you are hinging on an 'A'?! Well, if you're like me...you run faster. Scoring a 'B' doesn't drive me. Scoring an 'A' or a 'C'? THAT drives me. Today, I studied hard and I thought I knew the material but alas...a C+ (and no extra credit for style points)

I went into today's race with 'reserved confidence'. It was my second weekend in a row for running a half marathon and I was using my performance last week as my gauge. I used to be that consistent. After all, similar weather and terrain were on the menu (although this race was much closer to the arctic circle - and it felt like it). My time of 1:18:24 last week already seemed a bit slow to me and I figured that this week I would run a 1:17:59 because...well...because once again, the man in my head who does my record-keeping also does my higher math calculations and that's what he came up with. I believe he factored in that most of the point-to-point run would be away from the ocean which would provide a prevailing tailwind and away from the sun which which create a rift between low pressure and high pressure causing lift (vis-a-vie Bernoulli's Law). Personally, I just figured I would be a bit faster because I was a week older and therefore, wiser. OK, really. This event had 3 times as many runners and statistically speaking...3 times...bell-shaped curve...1 standard deviation...carry the 1. I should finish between 7th and 11th on a normal day. (I got a solid 'A' in statistics)

I once again warmed up by running the first mile of the course and back. It was quiet except for the police who were already positioned at their intersections in the center of downtown Charleston. It was actually the prettiest mile out of the 13 and quite serene just 10 minutes before 3,000 people were to come charging through. I saw a woman setting out tables at a small coffee shop and thought about how nice it would be to grab a cup of coffee with Janis...but that would have to wait. I returned to the start line at 0750 hours and met Janis at the drop point for the ritual 'disrobing' and the obligatory 5 minutes of deciding 'do I wear a hat or not'. I opted for not. I knew so many people that were doing this event that I was surprised that I only saw a handful as I mulled around the start line. Entertainment was provided by the start-line crew who were trying desperately to get people to stop crossing the electronic timing mat so that it could be reset.

There was an absence of pre-race fanfare - no Star Spangled Banner or invocations (either that, or I was sleeping; or dreaming of a chocolate milkshake. Sometimes that happens). Out of nowhere, Greenville elite runner Kevin Mosteller popped up next to me (Kevin finished 5th in 1:15:55) and we chatted for a minute or two before we both suddenly snapped back to the realization that they were about to say 'GO'. Kevin and I almost missed the start of the Greer Half Marathon last year for the same reason - discussing all the reasons we might not do well today. It's just something we do.

We all leaned forward in that moment of deafening silence between "runners take your mark" and "GO!". I can always start pretty hard because it takes a couple or minutes to get this engine from a 40 heartrate to 145. At about the quarter mile mark I was actually accidentally in 2nd place. But as soon as I hit the magic 145, I threw it into neutral and slowly watched a group of about 7 runners start to pull away. Near the end of mile one, a runner who had just pulled up beside me threw off his hat. It was a nice-looking hat. And I had pockets. Oh yes, I seriously considered grabbing it but then decided I was here to run and not to shop. That runner left me behind. Oddly enough, I would see him again at mile 12 and finish the race just 3 seconds ahead of him. Funny how that works out.

Not feeling bad early on...just moving a bit slower than expected. And a REAL good day to have my Rudy Project shades on (note the direct sun in the face) (photo courtesy PBC Sports Photography - pbcsportsphotography.com)

First mile was a 5:45. Excellent but I knew it was just me getting up to speed and my plan on this day was to keep a lower HR through mile 4 and then kick it into the next gear. I totally knew the plan. Problem was, I don't think the plan knew the plan. I remember the smell of fresh Brueggar's Bagels as we passed their stor around mile 2. I eat there about twice a week in G'Vegas and as an Italian, fresh bread is like a dessert. For the first time in a long time, I began to get frustrated. First, my mile splits seemed slow. Then on top of that, my Garmin seemed to be marking the miles short again (just like last week). But most importantly, people were still passing me a couple at a time. And I know I shouldn't think this way but the honest truth is it hurts way worse when the assailant is wearing a cotton t-shirt and basketball shorts; or they look older than me; or they're wearing pink compression socks; or they are enjoying a cup of tea; or they exist...

Although my 'easy' HR seemed a bit harder than expected, I was all but ready to jetison the first stage at mile 4 and catch back up to some people. Not gonna happen. I had a serious discussion with my body at mile 5 when my speed increased by only a few seconds. At mile 6, I looked at my watch and blurted out loud "seriously?!". At this point, I knew I was in for a difficult day and that I would be lucky to hold my pace, let alone increase it the final 2 miles. The Yin of it was that I actually had some people in front of me to keep chasing. The Yang of it was I actually had some people in front of me to keep chasing. From mile 6 to 11 I focused on one runner ahead of me. I actually got close enough at one point to reach out and knock him out with a baseball bat...if I had one ;-) He was my saving grace...until we reached mile 11 and he suddenly turned off because he was running the full marathon. Ouch. With 2 miles to go, it was sheer survival. I was now merged with the 10k racers and having people around always helps. At mile 12 I passed the guy from mile 1. The last mile had all these little 'whoop-de-doo' roller coaster bumps and that didn't help at all.

The pain train looms in the distance...metaphorically of course. (photo courtesy PBC Sports Photography - pbcsportsphotography.com)

The pain train was in full swing and with a half-mile to go, I could hear the sounds of the finish line. I focused all my will power on moving the line closer to me. That trick has never worked, but it is still ALWAYS worth trying. I was passed with a quarter-mile left by a 20-year-old that I had left five miles earlier. When I turned down the final hundred yards, insult was added to injuury when I saw the finish clock already past the 1:20 mark. I believe I actually started walking a step or two before the finish line. Done. Cooked. Finished. Twice as hard as last week and 2 minutes slower. If I had run the exact same time as last week, I would have ended up 11th as I had statistically predicted. But apparently nobody was on board today - my plan, statistics, the clock. They all smited me.

We hung around just long enough to get my free shrimp & grits before heading out. I wanted to be sure that my race day didn't interupt Janis' workout plans. She did a 5-mile walk/run all around the Patriot's Point area and I rode her mountain bike alongside her. I highly recommend hopping on a bike after a hard run. It's a trick I learned a long time ago to keep your legs from getting too sore.

I look like a frail child here...which is definitely better than I felt. (photo courtesy PBC Sports Photography - pbcsportsphotography.com)

I still managed to wrangle a top 20 finish (17th) and the 2nd overall Master but the story doesn't end here. I knew that this performance had much less to do with training or racing tactics and a lot more to do with my cursed 'allergy induced asthma'. I talked about a good bit in my race reports from 2010. I've had it pretty much under control for over a year now and it only rears its ugly head every once in a while and usually at shorter events where a more maximal effort is involved. If you read my report from the 2nd week in December you know that I got hit really hard. A couple of weeks later, my pulmonologist told me that a live Christmas tree was a huge no-no for me now. We took it down right after Christmas. During that visit my doctor tested my lungs; something we hadn't done in a year. Then just a couple of days after this race, I went back to the doctor and said that I was still feeling 'off' both at night and during hard exercise. So we performed the test yet again. Here are the results:

Lung capacity readings as a percent of predicted lung capacity (for a normal human male my age)
End of 2009: 144%
Late Dec 2010: 124%
Mid-January 2011: 112%
You don't need to be an 'A' math student to see that something's awry. That's a 22% drop. Doc put me back on some meds that I have been off of for nearly a year. We'll see what happens. But I wouldn't say that all this is a 'ray of sunshine'.

Race Notes:
* Lots of friends in Chucktown and some great performances. But the standout was a 2:57 marathon by my friend Kristi Arledge who decimated the women's field (definition of decimation = 12-minute lead). She was so close to breaking the SC state record for her age group. It is only a matter of time.
* The moment of the day had to be after the race and I asked Janis if she was worried when she didn't see me before an hour and twenty minutes. She looked at me in a 'matter-of-fact' way and simply said "I figured the wheels just fell off".
* It turned out to be a great weekend and we took advantage of the weather. On Sunday, we traded and Janis rode her mountain bike alongside me as I ran over the Bridge and back.

Next Up: the Greenville Downtown 5k - then a few week's break to hopefully get the lungs back to normal

Enjoying an easy bike ride after my race, alongside Janis while she does her workout on a beautiful Charleston day!

Location: Mobile, AL
Date: January 9, 2011
Placing: 3rd Overall
Format: Half Marathon Running Race
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the run on Garmin by clicking HERE

Did any of you ever think that you would ever make it to 2011? I'll never forget back in high school when I thought that the year 2000 was soooo far away. Back then - when I ran laps in PE class with my size 12 feet attached to my scrawny little frame - I would never have guessed that at age 46 I would consider running 13 miles to be 'a fairly short, fun event'. By the way, I offically wear a size 13 running shoe. I often wonder how fast I'd be with a size 7...

Well, I DID in fact make it to 2011 and I kicked off my 31st year of endurance sports with a combination race/family weekend near Mobile, Alabama. Whenever I'm there, I can't help but think about one of my favorite movies and how appropriate for this quote..."That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd run to the end of town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd just run across Greenbow County. And I figured, since I run this far, maybe I'd just run across the great state of Alabama. And that's what I did. I ran clear across Alabama. For no particular reason I just kept on going..." - Forrest Gump. As enticing as the idea sounds, I actually stopped when I got to the edge of Mobile and turned back towards the finish line.

Got to start 2011 with a visit to my parents. Hanging out with my dad before the start.

This race was about as low-key as they come. For some people that's a drawback but I've always been a 'low maintenence' racer and I've learned to treasure each race for so many different reasons. The only thing I need is a well-marked, safe course. Don't need mile markers, split clocks, drink stations or a medal...just safe and well-marked. Now that's not to say that these other things were not provided it's just that I've never found myself caring or obsessing over them. Today, I was treasuring the view of some very old Southern architecture, and having my dad there braving the breezy, 40-degree temps to watch me race. I certainly wouldn't have blamed him if he had stayed home with my mom in that weather. I knew the race was low-key when I jogged over to where the map showed the start to be and when I asked someone where the start was, they looked at me and simply pointed to a piece of duct tape across the road right where I stood. No big banner or platforms of any kind. Just a piece of tape.

As sort of a well-thought-out ritual I've developed, I warmed up by jogging the first mile and back. The most noticeable thing was the 5 billion police officers and their vehicles. The event may have been low-key, but the police force (and promoter) took it seriously and I was impressed by that. I felt at ease during my warmup and tried not to think too hard about the extra 5 pounds I was carrying or how my training times didn't quite seem 'up to snuff' when compared to last year or some of my December allergy issues...but obviously, all those things tend to creep in. As it usually is at the first long race of the year, I had no idea what to expect. On paper, it would appear that I would run somewhere between 1:15 and 1:20 and that's what I told Coach Rick and my wife. I told them "If I'm any slower than that, then I'll be slower".

As we assembled at the start, they had a couple of local dignitaries around as well as 4 girls dressed in full antibellum attire. A nice touch. I handed Janis my warmups as we listened to the world's slowest version of the Star Spangled Banner playing on a CD player (think low-key). It was funny for a moment when the announcer started talking and then suddenly the next song on the CD started playing. One of my favorite times in a race is standing on the start line. As I look around at all the competitors I try to determine how fast everyone is and/or what their situation is. I can only imagine that people do the same thing with me. The beauty of this sport - and life in general - is that you really can NOT judge a book by its cover. I often think of myself as a prime example. I imagine someone talking to their friend and saying "hey look at the old guy lined up on the front row...we'd better stay clear of him..."

Off we go! The guy in the green outfit near the front ran this race like I USED to; way to fast at the start. I caught him at mile 3 and beat him by 5 minutes.

I realized the instant the gun sounded - or rather the recording of a gun sounding ;-) - that I had forgotten to grab my gels. Fortunately, I had plenty of calories for breakfast but I still hated forgetting them. ALWAYS be prepared with your own calories. Dependency is something I hate to have. We took off down the wide-open 5-lane road. 507 of us. It instantly reminded me of a bike race as I noticed 2 distinct lines forming - myself and the guy in front of me about 10 feet from the left curb - and another line of runners 20 feet to my right. From above it had to look like a person dragging a heavy tarp. We were his right hand pulling and they were his left. Of course, since I had pre-run the first mile, I knew we were making a left turn and that made my start position a much wiser choice. The two runners on the far right who were seperating themselves from the pack at a high rate, had to cross all 5 lanes to make the left. I took the shortest route.

As we approached mile 1, the two leaders were already an estimated 30 seconds ahead of me. 3rd place was about 15 seconds ahead and I was next in 4th, with another runner breathing down my neck. I kept close watch on my heartrate and felt almost caged as I crossed mile 1 in 5:59. Mile 2 is a mystery that I will probably never solve as much as I have tried. I kept the same HR as mile 1 and I slowly gained on 3rd place and even seperated myself from 4th. Yet when I hit mile 2, my Garmin reported a surprising slow '6:17'. Basically 20 seconds slower than all my other miles and the only 6:00+ mile. I had some intial concern but thought to myself that the pace was not important - the reality was that I was gaining position and so I shrugged it off.

In the middle of mile 3, I pulled alongside of the 3rd place runner. He looked so hauntingly familiar that I felt compelled to ask him some questions. I hope this didn't put him off but he really did look THAT familiar. When I failed to make a connection after 3 or 4 questions, I decided to quit playing 'What's My Line'...and pulled away. I was looking forward to seeing Janis and my dad near mile 5 and I breezed through in 3rd with a comfortable smile on my face. From this point on, it was like hundreds of other runs I've done. I think I'm going to rename no-man's land to "G-Man's Land" because quite frankly, that's where I live. I would not see another running sole in front of or behind me the rest of the race. I was scheduled to keep the HR on the level from mile 3 through 9 and I was as steady as you could imagine. My mile splits were all within about 5 seconds of each other. I had a good bit to keep me entertained as I would wave and comment to the occasional spectator and always made sure to thank the volunteers.

I first noticed at mile 3 that the mile marker was a bit farther than my Garmin was reporting. As the miles clicked away, it very steadily got worse. I kept thinking that at some point the mile markers would come close to getting back in line with my Garmin but they never did. By the time my Garmin 'beeped' mile 9, I still had another 20 seconds to run to hit their mile marker. I was feeling pretty comfortable and my pace was consistently good (based on my Garmin - not the mile markers) so I decided on some judicious complacancy and waited until mile 10 before I kicked up the HR for the final time. I was dismayed to once again find my heartrate unwilling to break the 150 mark. This is the same thing that has plagued me in the past at the most unpredictable times (see my last race report). I felt comfortable at 148 beats but a simple gain of 3 beats per minute felt like a leap across the Grand Canyon. Beyond explanation. The only saving grace is that in a long race, I don't get above 150 that much. In a 5k or 10k, I'm supposed to be there the entire race. In my 5k race a month ago, my minimum HR was 151 and it felt fine.

I did my best to push into the direct headwind the final 3 miles but was never able to get above 152 HR before the final 100 yards. One of the funniest things in the final 3 miles was when I was running towards one of the many manned intersections. The police officer had gotten out his car as I approached to make sure and hold traffic. I was running in the right lane of a 4-lane road and it was coned off but for some reason, the cop was standing almost in the middle of my lane and I had to move over to squeeze by him. Just before I passed he gave me the "Yeah - you are kicking it!" sign with his hands...which turns out looks just like the "Hey - you're supposed to turn here" sign. Seconds after I ran right past him, he turned and shouted that I missed the turn. Too funny. I had been so good about watching the giant arrows on the ground up until now. But I never saw this one because I was so distracted with what he was doing. I'm sure this error cost me a full 10 minutes. Or maybe 4 seconds; whichever story you want to believe.

Even though it was a bit slower than I had hoped, I crossed the line feeling good and not over-exerted. Maybe that's because today, I was 'Rick' Giordanelli

As I sprinted through to the finishing chute, the announcer yelled "...and here comes our 3rd place finisher...Rick Giordanelli racing for Fleet Feet" I almost bust out laughing as I could hear my dad yelling up at him "It's Chris...CHRIS". My Garmin read 1:18:20 and the official clock read 1:18:24. More importantly, my Garmin read 13.23 miles. It may not sound like a large disparity from the mandated 13.1 but the math says it was an additional 45 seconds. That's like an eternity when you are scrutinizing your finish time. It was almost 2 minutes off of my personal record but still fast enough for me on this day. The top 4 runners would each be seperated by about 5 minutes which I found to be pretty unusual even at a smaller event.

Since I was visiting my family (and it was still quite chilly out), we didn't hang around long after I finished. Well, that AND my mom was at home making waffles. Oh yeah!

Race Notes:
* Not much else to say about the race - except that I'm hoping they mail me my award as they promised (I'm still waiting for my award from a race I did 3 years ago). Hopefully, it will be something unique - those are the ones I really like.
* The REAL news was the trip home. Anybody in the Atlanta/South Carolina area knows what I am talking about. We tried to drive back from Mobile to Greenville the day after the worst snow/ice storm in years. We ended up stopping in Atlanta for the night - where the roads were like giant sheets of ice. We were pretty lucky to make it home the next day considering the conditions!

Next Up: Charleston Half Marathon and then the Greenville Downtown 5k.

Not one thing to do with the half marathon, but it is probably the only time you will ever see Janis in sparkly high heels.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that my dad is a huge Jets fan (that's a Jets hat). It was a good weekend for me AND the Jets.

Location: Charlotte, NC
Date: December 11, 2010
Placing: 38th - 45+
Format: 10k Off-Road Running Race
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the run on Garmin by clicking HERE

I'll just start by saying that this race was so good that I almost wish it had happened smack dab in the middle of my season rather than when I was just taking the legs for their first few test drives. Not that I would have placed so much better that this would have been a heroic tale...I mean this race was chock full of reasons for me NOT to place:
1. It was the national championships. If you were at this race, you are pretty much a 40+-year-old mutant of a runner.
2. It was a relatively short race for me. I don't hold a candle to 'sprinter' guys.
3. I'm just starting my season so although it was a 'big' event, I planned on it being a fun adventure with my Greenville Track Club teammates.
It was also my first cross-country (off-road) race ever. However, I didn't take this as something that would effect my time or placing much (although a good number of my teammates seemed to think that we were likely to lose a few seconds over the course due to 'slippage'). For these reasons, I set a hard - but deliverable - goal for myself. No expectations of greatness here. My expectation was to run around a 35:30; a little over twice my 5k time from last week. But there were 2 things I had not counted on that took me by surprise. And it was these 2 things that turned a good race south...

You ever hear that expression "trying to fit a square peg in a round hole"? Well, that was surprise number one. The original field estimate of 250 runners came closer to 400 on race day. Sure, I've done races with 25,000 people before but in those events you are usually seeded into corrals and the road is pretty wide and if someone bumps you a bit, you don't have to worry about face-planting into a tree. Even on paper, most engineers would wince. You see, all 400 of us lined up in large, open field on a single start line that was about 100 meters wide. We stood there - in our assigned team start box - about 2 or 3 rows deep. At the sound of the pistol, we had about 150 meters to squeeze down to the width of about a single car lane. You do the math. Sounds like a magic trick, doesn't it. I'm told that this is how cross-country races are run. At first I thought it was some kind of joke. Who knew?

The gun went off and it must have been quite a sight. Picture the Battle of Stirling from Braveheart..."They may take our lives, but they will never take our FREEDOM!". Majestically and with radiating vigor we took off crossing the field. Now cross that with a typical scene this time of year. Every last one of us trying to be the first one through the doors of WalMart the morning after Thanksgiving. "BAAAAAAAHHHHH". Sorry...still having flashbacks. Oh, the horror. I was about two-thirds of the way to the dirt path when I heard a quick smathering of curse words and I glanced over for only a fraction of an instant (so as not to crash myself) and what I saw in that moment looked like a group of Muppets flying through the air. My teammate Joe Hammond who was still just two steps ahead of me glanced back and shined me a look like he was running for his life.

Look closely. I'm sandwiched right in the middle at mile 1 and this was after the trail opened up a bit!

Through the grace of God, I somehow made it. After about 3 seconds of celebrating, I snapped back to reality and was astonished that hardly a single person looked strained running their first mile in the low to mid 5-minute range. In most 10k's that don't include professional runners, I would already be in the top 20 runners at this pace. Wow. For the first couple of minutes it was like my senses were being bashed in. All I could do was think about someone running into the back of me with my sideways 'cerebral palsey' stride. But then it suddenly all came back to me. I had done this for 25 years of my life. This was bike racing. I quickly remembered how to relax in a pack and take advantage of holes between athletes. That was the last time I worried about the volume of runners because I suddenly had bigger fish to fry.

As soon as my brain caught up to my situation, I thought "Holy Cow, it feels like we are running a 5-minute mile". I glanced at my Garmin and expected to see 160 heartrate. Instead, what I saw was 150 AND I felt pegged. Not good. Not good at all. I immediately tried to resist the thought that today was going to be one of those "asthma" days. It didn't matter how much I resisted - my body said, "sorry, Chris". I've termed them "asthma" days because I don't know what else to call them. It is likely to assume that they are somehow based on my asthma because that's about the only logical explanation. As I've written before it means that my maximum heartrate is slashed by 10 or 15 beats (which is huge) and the relative effort level follows with it. To put it in perspective...I raced 3.1 miles last week with the following average heartrates each mile: 150, 154, 157. I maxed out at 163 at the finish. My first mile was a 5:30 and it hardly felt like I was working. Today, my first mile was 5:39 at an average heartrate of 151 and it felt like I was going to die.

I look a lot more strained than the other runners at the halfway point. Moments later, my teammate Joe Hammond (left)...left.

Oddly enough, my plan had me running the first 2 miles at a 151 heartrate - and that's where I was. The problem was that I could not even imagine kicking it higher at miles 3 and 5. Even if I could've done something about it by backing down...I really couldn't. You see, at mile marker 1 there were probably 30 people within a 10-foot radius of me and we were all hauling ass. If I had backed off for an instant, I chanced getting tripped and trampled. It was like we were all being sucked along in a current. Amazingly at this point, I heard my buddy Joe say something to me. We were still practically side by side. We ended up being good pacers for each other right up until just before the halfway point.

There is no mistaking how much this hurt. The "pain face" says it all.

The group finally thinned for me around the 2-mile mark. This was the point at which I was supposed to kick it up a notch. Instead, the pain was as hard as any race I'd felt in a long time and my heartrate was still sitting between 150 and 152. Pushing through pain is one of the things that makes me a better endurance athlete in the first place. At least that's what I kept telling myself in order to continue. That and the fact that this was a club championships and I didn't want to let my teammates down. At mile 3, I could no longer hang on to Joe's pace. He seemed to be picking it up when in actuality, I had passed my limit and was slowing down.

It was all I could do at mile 5 to look down at my feet and pray for the finish line.

I gave everything I had to stay with a couple of runners that were near me. My last quarter-mile felt like a jog but I was thrilled to be near the end. I was pretty much alone as I hit the last 200 meters until I heard heavy footsteps behind me. I was still about 20 seconds or more from the finish so I bucked it up and put a last ditch effort in. Just enough to keep ahead of whoever was trying to pass me. The jerk was persistent ;-) I kicked it up another notch...and another. Son of a bitch! We were at an all out sprint for nearly 200 meters when I finally had absolutely zero left. Scratch that - I had negative zero left if that was possible. He passed me just before the line and I thought to myself as I began to pass out "man, if you had that much left why the hell didn't you use it out on the course?" Turns out he was in a younger age group anyway.

No lie - the longest sprint I may have ever done on one of the hardest days I've had in a long time. Don't ask what I was thinking because after 30 years, I rarely think - I just do.

36:30 my Garmin read. I didn't even break a 6:00 mile the last 2 miles. My heartrate average was 152 and I was wiped out. Joe had finished in 36:08. I know that if I had been able to run my race, I think I would have pushed him to run harder as well and we both would have broken 36:00. In the 45-49 age group, I finished 38th. Although the individual honors are done in 5-year increments, the team competition is awarded in 10-year increments. This didn't help us much because all of the runners on our 40-49 team were between 45 and 49. No 'youngsters' here. It took me a good while to finally move again after crossing the line and even a cooldown was a strain. I ran mile 6 at close to the pace I intend to run the entire Boston Marathon in April

Regardless of how I ran, it was an awesome race because I haven't had that felling of 'team' in a long time. Joe, myself, Danny Murray and Bob Samms had gone up the night before the race and had a great time hanging out. It was incredibly interesting for me - a guy who grew up bike racing - to hear stories from guys who had been competitve runners their whole lives. Great stories from some fast guys who used to be real fast.

I mentioned at the start that the photographers were awesome at this event and quite honestly, I think my face says it all. As a matter of fact, local elite runner Kevin Mosteller watched our race and cheered for us. After the race I told Kevin about my problems during the race and his response was "Yeah, when I saw you...you didn't look so good"...

Race Notes:
* Well - I actually finished writing this post several days ago and just hadn't had a chance to put it on the website. Since I wrote it, I had my monthly allergy shot. After telling my pulmonologist about my recent problems (which have persisted after the race), she instantly asked me if I had a live Christmas tree in the house. Why yes I did. I put it up right after the Paris Mountain 5k. Duh! Live tree in the house = asthma no-no. Hopefully that clears things up! I'm still leaving it up till Christmas...what's a few more days of breathing a bit heavier?
* I just can't stress how impressive it is to see such incredible athletes in their 40's, 50's and beyond - including my Greenville Track Club teammates. The entire lot of them can outrun just about every 20-something that you know. Take that, Wii game...

Next Up: Mobile Half Marathon in January.

Location: Greenville, SC
Date: December 4, 2010
Placing: 3rd Overall
Format: 5k Running Race
My Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the run on Garmin by clicking HERE

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!...well, maybe not according to the calendar on your wall but this weekend was the start of my 2011 racing season. That's not entirely true. In an effort to keep things new and fresh, I decided that this year, I would have a "pre-season". All the popular sports are doing it. I figure if I have a pre-season, then I don't have to really be on my game yet. I can always do poorly and then proclaim that I was protecting my "first-stringers" or that I didn't want to show my entire hand prior to the "real" season. Plus it gives me time to juggle my coaching staff (just kidding, RK)

The first of my 2 pre-season races was the Paris Mountain 5k. This is the sidekick race to the prestigious Paris Mountain 20k race - which literally goes up and over The Mountain. It's been a few years since I've done the 20k and I hated having to miss it this year. I had a good number of moderate-length runs in my legs, but my recent ankle injuries at the end of this past season still had me a bit nervous about running down a steep incline for that length of time. It's a shame. Not so much because I thought I might do well, but because I look real funny when I run downhill. No. REAL funny. Take how funny I look when I run on the flats and triple that.

When a race is small, local and inexpensive I usually don't pre-register. From the looks of it, a lot of other people go by the same system. Between the two events, there were over 600 entrants. Quite impressive. I guess maybe word got out that I would be there. I mean, it certainly wasn't for the weather which was a little chillier than expected. To be honest, it really was nearly a perfect temperature to race in; just not so perfect for jogging over to registration, making clothes changes at your car or sunbathing.

There are several things that take the edge off at an early season race and one of those things for me was seeing a lot of my friends that I hadn't seen in a while. It may not have been a super large group of people but it was definitely diverse. Aside from pure runners of all ages and abilities, I spied quite a number of triathletes. My warmup felt somewhat like a speed dating service as I would join up with one friend for a minute or two before parting ways and running into another friend. I probably jogged around in my heavy gear for a good 3 miles or so before returning to my car to 'strip down' to my racing outfit. As the name implies, my warmup had done exactly exactly what it was supposed to do and I didn't feel too bad in shorts, a long-sleeved top under my singlet, and gloves.

I finished my final bit of warmup with fellow Masters runner, Joe Hammond. Several of the Greenville Track Club Masters were out today as a warmup for next weekend's National Cross Country Championships in Charlotte. Joe and Dan Shelby assembled a great group from our club and we're hoping to have a good showing there. Joe is a great runner who just finished 3rd overall at the Spinx Runfest Half Marathon and I hoped that I would be running well enough to give him some competition. I really decided to run this event to make sure I wouldn't embarrass myself next week.

I watched Joe - and several others (myself included) almost fall forward on the front line when the starter said "runner's ready"...and then gave an unusually long pause before declaring "GO!". Quite humorous watching as runners lean forward as if they are about to fall off the edge of the earth. A hundred watches beeped and off we ran. In the first 100 yards we went around a roundabout which was problematic as everyone squeezes to the inside. Even with a smaller group I found myself trapped. Ironically, it was behind Santa Clause who was somehwere in the top ten. This would have been more disturbing had I not known that Santa was actually Ed Hughes - yet another great Masters runner.

A glance or two at my Garmin told me that I was well below my prescribed heartrate and that it was moving up rather slowly. That's a good thing. We finally came out of the huge roundabout and I gently passed the small group that seperated me from 4th place. The runner in first left the start line like he was shot out of a cannon. It was obvious after the first half-mile that this was probably a race for 2nd. I was now in 4th and the sounds behind me diminished. I had reached my heartrate of 151 and was holding it there amazingly steady. Now I can hear just one runner breathing off my shoulder as I close in on 3rd place. That runner was Joe. He came around me and my first thought was "looks like it's gonna be Joe's day". But after he passed me, he settled into nearly the exact same pace.

So it was my turn to spend a few hundred yards behind Joe. He was holding the exact right pace for my heartrate. It was almost as if he was reading my heartrate and adapting. Shortly before the 1-mile mark, we passed 3rd place and the two of us came shoulder to shoulder. We would run that way for the next mile and a quarter. We had passed mile 1 at 5:30 and neither of us was flinching. At the start of mile 3, we hit a short, steep hill and I was thinking that Joe might punch it here. Instead, he and I stayed as steady as ever as we tempoed up the climb. We hit the top and surprisingly, that's when it all "went down".

The "Windmill". That's what it's come to be known as. I think it started years ago when I would do the Fleet Feet night runs. I found I had this knack for being able to 'let my body go' on the downhills. I always surmised that it came from my cycling. The heavy pounding that downhill running does to your legs doesn't seem to bother me much after years of cycling. And of course, the only way to really let your legs go - is to let your arms go. Ergo...the "Windmill". It's not a pretty thing to watch and at times it can be quite scary, but who wouldn't look a little like a dork just to move up one place in a race?

I put the windmill in full swing down the other side of the hill and put a gap on Joe of several seconds. I didn't realize how many seconds I had gained at first and thought he might run right back up to me, but I couldn't even hear him so I just kept the pressure on. I was in the final mile now and allowed to take my heartrate up to 158. It was an effort (as it should be). I never thought of looking back, I mean after all if I am running at the correct heartrate what good is it going to do to look back with that much time left in the race? Either he is catching me or he isn't. Having said that, I most certainly looked back as I approached the finish because once you are within sprinting distance of the banner, all bets are off.

I was glad to not see Joe out of the corner of my eye but knowing that Joe is a great sprinter I wasn't going to be comfortable until that peice of tape on the ground was behind me. 3rd Overall. 17:36. Pretty far from a PR but a worthy time considering my circumstances. The real blooper of the day is what happened immediately after I crossed the line. I walked around for a few seconds, bent over and caught my breath (by the way, no hacking! Looks good for the asthma). When I finally turned back around, there was the next place runner handing over their timing chip. No, it wasn't Joe. It was Kevin Mosteller. A sub-2:40 marathoner and typically a leader at events like this. As soon as I saw him the realization set in that he was not in front at the start - even though we saw each other before the event.

It turns out that Kevin - who had been at the race site since around 5am because he was the co-director of the race - had forgotten his running stuff!! He raced back home. Parked about a half-mile from the start and literally ran up to the back of all 300+ participants as we took off. He had spent the better part of 2 miles finally weaving through the masses and then focused on Joe and I. He finally passed Joe in the finishing straight and finished just 4 seconds behind me. Wheeew! I thanked him for giving me 3rd place today and we had a good laugh about it. I was really hoping to train for the Boston Marathon with Kevin since we are only a few minutes apart on our marathon times, but the fiasco that was the Boston registration this year kept him out of the race. BUmmer for him AND me! Just one more year and Kevin will enter the ranks of Masters running.

A great "pre-season" run for me and I'm as excited as ever to race this year. I've always fought the idea of comparing myself to "other old people" instead of just everyone, but I'm starting to relax that just a bit. Oh, I'm still all about competing with the young guns but now it's more of a self-actualization for me. I hear myself saying to myself "can you believe a 46-year-old can do that?" Sometimes even I have trouble fathoming it.

Race Notes:
* Team Fleet Feet teammates Jon Stoehr and Brandon Southern took 2nd and 10th respectively in the 20k.
* Greenville Track Club Masters runners that will be racing in the National Championships next week took 3rd, 5th, 6th and 7th in the 5k. In addition, Ed Hughes (also participating next week) finished 14th dresses as Santa Clause.
* Keith Brown - a friend and co-worker who only recently got into being active - was the lead cyclist for our race. We might have spent some of the day together had it not been for the speed demon winner.
* No "team photos" today. My "team photographer" slept in. I don't blame her one bit.

Next Up: Masters (and Club) National Cross Country Championships. After that, a barrage of running events in January including 2 half marathons.

Location: Greer, SC
Date: April 24, 2010
Placing: 3rd Overall
Format: 13.1-mile run
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

Maybe I should just quit. I mean, the saying goes "quit while you're ahead", right? The problem with that saying is that each good race leads you to believe that if you were a bit faster today then maybe you could be even a bit 'more faster' tomorrow. I don't know how many more years I can keep looking at my race results and saying, 'I can beat that'. I'm sure that the day that I can't beat it will come long before the day that I admit that I can't beat it. Quit? Are you kidding? Nothing gives you the urge to race more than "being ahead". As a matter of fact, if I'm ever going to retire from competition and start living like 'normal' folk, I'd better start slowing down soon...although it's not looking promising.

I've done this event twice before - in 2006 (5 days after running the Boston Marathon) and in 2007 where I won the event and set a standing PR until September of last year at the very flat Virginia Beach Half Marathon. But all that was before my new training and racing methods. For the 2nd time in 3 years, I set my half marathon PR here in Greer. I now believe a sub-1:16 is possible on a flat course. (Kiawah Island '10?)

So far this year, I've come up against some pretty good competition in the Master's field of my running races, but I am by no means a 'short-distance' guy and was looking to possibly level the playing field today. It's always a bag of mixed emotions when you see that your toughest competition doesn't toe the line. You want to be happy that your day will most likely be easier and less stressful but at the same time, you're here for the competition. I love races that end up being true races - and I've had more of those this year already than I've had in years. Not today. Hopefully, with a state championship designation, this event can draw a bigger breadth of talent next year. But that didn't mean I was prepared to run with any less fire in my legs and desire in my heart.

There were tons of people I knew at this event - quite a few triathlete 'crossovers' like myself as well as lots of veteran runners. I had several Fleet Feet running teammates present as well as a handful of TeamKattouf-trained athletes and even some fellow employees who have picked up the running gauntlet and well...ran with it. Ironically, for the first time in 3 events my team photographer (aka my wife Janis) was present and the camera battery was charged. Problem is that I left the camera sitting on kitchen counter. Janis has tons of pictures - they're just all in her head so you can't see them.

The ground was damp and the skies were gray as the 450 or so runners made their way to the start line in downtown Greer. It was here that I noticed the absence of master's runners like Chris Hicks and Dean Whitis. I also noticed the absence of a start line just a few minutes before the race was to begin. And then suddenly, like a scene from a MacGyver episode, a small band of men constructed a start line complete with timing mats, some barricades, etc. in a matter of a minute or two. I thought they would be at it for several minutes so I stepped to the side to get out of the way and chatted with Kevin Mosteller who is in fact, 'most steller' (what a great name for a good runner). We were just yapping away having a good-ole' time...right up until we heard the announcer yell, "Runners take your mark" - or something to that effect. I'm glad we were near the start line because we jumped into the street and 3 seconds later we were running. It certainly kept the stress time down to a minimum but I don't recommend it.

I'm the one looking to my left and joking with Kevin Mosteller about how we just about missed the start of the race

Nobody really took off hard, but my teammate Jon Stoehr began to seperate himself from the group almost immediately. I just settled into a very calm and easy first 2 miles. Shortly after the start one of my other teammates, Steve Pearce ran alongside me. He asked about my goal and if I minded him pacing with me since it had been a while since he had run a half. I never mind the company but I warned him that racing by heartrate can seem like a lot of back and forth (although in actuality the effort level is very steady). In the first mile, I backed off on one small hill but caught back up to Steve after we crested. I would learn after the race that we crossed the 1-mile mark at exactly 6:00, side by side. The two of us were already running in about 5th & 6th position. I flew through mile 2 and the start of mile 3 which were predominantly downhill, passing 3rd and 4th place and gapping Steve. Somewhere around this point, I could see waaaay up the road and it appeared that Kevin had caught (or was near catching) Jon and that they were already about 2 minutes ahead.

Teammate Steve Pearce and I crossing the Mile 1 mark - as relaxed as can be

Steve caught back up as I dialed it down on the climb to the end of mile 3. I had kept the HR to just a max of 142 to this point. Miles 3-9 I was allowed to jump up to a 149-or-less HR and I did - slowly pulling away from Steve. I would run alone at this pace for the next 6 miles. I was running so efficiently at a sub-150 HR that I never once thought about where the next mile marker was. This is always a good determinant of how exhausted you feel. When you start looking for the 'Mile 8' marker just 30 seconds after passing the 'Mile 7' marker, you'd better gear up for things to get very bleak. This was not the case at all. My average heartrate for miles 4-9 were 148, 149, 148, 149, 149, 149. It just don't get any steadier than that. I enjoyed the occasional banter I received from Ed Hughes on his electric bike. Ed - the ever creative photographer - had rigged a board complete with mounted video camera onto the handlebars of the bike. If you've never seen one of his videos, I suggest you check out http://www.youtube.com/user/greenvillehughes (his 'T-Shirt Song' is a favorite). I couldn't wait to open things up when I passed the Mile 9 sign.

This is a great shot of me racing the traffic. You can see the patch on my arm where they had to replace some of the bionic circuitry (photo: Brightroom Event Photography)

Mile 10 was the longest stretch of the race in the sense that you could practically see the end of mile 10 from the start of it. It appeared flat, but my time - and later, my Garmin - would tell me that miles 10 and 11 slowly made up for the descending in miles 2 & 3. During the mile 10 stretch, I swore I saw someone up ahead but just kept thinking it was someone on a bike. As I got closer to mile 11, I could see it was Kevin again. Little by little, I allowed my HR to ascend above 150. Although I am wearing my Garmin which tracks everything from my pace to the atmospheric pressure on mars, I only have it set to show my heartrate which keeps me honest to my plan. If the HR is where it is supposed to be, the pace will follow. But when I get to the end of a race and my heartrate is allowed to be 'whatever the hell I can stand', I flip my screen over to show me average pace and time. I did this as I started the last mile and it was at this point that I had to quickly call upon my math skills to see that I was headed for another PR. I was nearly maxed but was holding enough inside to let out a good finishing sprint when the time came. I planned to kick it when I saw the Mile 13 sign, a little over .1 miles from the finish and about 45 seconds out. I never saw the sign and before I knew it, someone appeared in front of me and directed me to turn onto a sidewalk. The finish banner was just 30 yards away. I sprinted in for a 1:16:34 and 3rd place.

Pumping down the finishing stretch for 3rd place and a new PR of 1:16:34 (photo: Brightroom Event Photography)

As usual, I never once thought about the weather during the race but janis said it actually rained a bit at the start/finish. I just remember being fairly cool. Near the end of the race, I noticed a hot-spot on my left foot that wanted to become a blister. It was no wonder with the humidity. I looked like I had just gotten out of the bath as I crossed the finish line; my shoes all sloshy and squeaky.

I don't often get to hang around after finishing a race but Janis and I were in no rush and I was glad to stay and see so many of my friends finish. I was extremely proud of my co-worker Marisa Marshal who just started down the path of a healthy lifestyle about a year or so ago. I helped her with a schedule because she wanted to break 2 hours on her first half...she finished in 1:49:12. She'll be under 1:40 in no time.

Race Notes:
* I felt like a piece of me was missing as my shadow, Stephen Sykes was not present.
* Jon (Stoehr), my Fleet Feet team captain, won the event with a 1:12:00. He would have broken 1:12 but he had to weave his way through the 5k finishers the last few yards.
* Team Fleet Feet took 1st (Jon), 3rd (myself), 4th (Steve Pearce) and 5th (Brandon Southern).
* Finishing in the small park near City Hall was a much better venue than in years past. A comfortable way to spend some time after the race.

Next Up: Well, by the time I finished this race report, I already completed my first of 4 half-iron events for the year. You'll have to wait til I finish that race report...now I have a few weeks without an event and then my second half-iron event in Connecticut

Location: Charleston, SC
Date: March 27, 2010
Placing: 62nd Overall, 1st 45-49 (33,057 finishers)
Race Photos
Results: Click Here

I love racing. But you know what I love almost as much? Not racing. Because NOT racing gives me time to think about how much I love racing. It's a not-so-vicious cycle that when done properly - creates a happy athlete. Race, rest, recharge, repeat. This is my way of explaining why after the first 6 races of the 2010 season, it took me 2+ weeks to write this particular race report. It was my time to NOT race; and not to think about it too much. I spent the first 'trimester' of the season (Dec-Mar) concentrating on running events. Considering the aggressively cold Winter this year, a wise decision. I spent less time outside training on my bike this year than any of the past 30 years. Six races of varying distances from 5k to half marathon. And if you read any of the reports you know that I had little to complain about...don't get me wrong, even though I don't feel 45, I still maintain - and exercise - my right to complain about anything. It is a rite of passage. Who am I to try and stop my 'bitter old man' destiny? But I feel like with 4 PR's I was able to keep my complaining to a minimum.

I've mentioned before that neither Janis nor I are big fans of the HUGE races. We are laid back people and it rarely feels laid back when a race triples the number of people in a city for a weekend. No matter which website you visit, the Cooper River Bridge Run will be ranked in the top 10 largest running events in the US with around 35,000 participants (not to mention all the friends, family and support people that aren't counted). That's almost as many friends as I have on Facebook. Wow.

Oh yeah, I'm real fast. I can beat like everybody. What? Who? Thay guy wearing #9 behind me? OK, maybe not him ;-) (photo: Ed Hughes)

But the Bridge Run called to me this year. It said "Chris, you are running well...and aren't you getting tired of people asking you if you've done THE Bridge Run?" Why yes, I am. But there was another obstacle with this event. Apparently, all the hotel rooms in Charleston are made of gold during this weekend. That's right. A room worth $60 a night is suddenly worth $150+ a night because of, well, as a student of both logic and economics I have to assume that this is the price people are willing to pay. PEOPLE are willing to pay this to run 6.2 miles...not me. With the new bridge, I can show up and run over it anytime I want; maybe when the rooms are no longer made of gold. I guess it's all part of the bitter old man lifestyle. But still, the Bridge beckoned.

I made a half-hearted attempt to find a cheap floor to sleep on but was not too hopeful until my Fleet Feet teammate Tim Briles suggested I contact the person in charge of invited/elite runners. Tim himself is a 31:00 10ker and competes as an elite at this event. If not for the Kenyans, Ethiopians and other professional runners who show up to gobble up the prize list, he would be one of the top runners (Tim was 27th overall - but the 6th American). I let them know about my anticipated finishing time and inquired as to help with lodging. It turns out that since I am old - and they have prize money for Masters - that they considered me an elite runner. They provided me with a hotel room right at the base of the bridge and free entry. What a fantastic stroke of luck and a great experience. I'm not gonna lie - it always feels good to be considered a little special for being a better runner, just so long as you don't mistake 'being a better runner' with 'being a better person'. Let me just say that we should all strive to be better people no matter how fast you run.

Although the packet pick-up on Friday afternoon helped to enforce why I don't like big races - where 5,000 cars tried to negotiate 100 parking spaces on 3 city roads - it was my first benefit to racing elite. I got to pass GO and head directly to the elite registration room. No lines. No waiting. Ahhhh. Janis and I escaped the mobs unscathed and were at our hotel in no time. We stayed in a Quality Inn literally 20 yards from the base of the Bridge. If I DID have to pay for a hotel - this location could not be beat. We were on the less-crowded, Mt.Pleasant side of the bay (where the race starts) and the race would pass close enough to our hotel that Janis could roll out of bed, throw on her bunny slippers, and watch 35,000 of her closest friends run by. I can imagine what this would look like if somehow you were staying at the hotel and had no idea about the race in the morning (which would be near impossible, but you'd be surprised). You would see what would look like a mass panic and exodus. You're only hint that it wasn't doomsday would be the guy dressed in his Superman outfit and the rock band set up in the median. Although on doomsday, I might just appreciate a rock band setting up and jamming out. That's just me.

Friday evening I had to do a 4-mile warmup run and what better way than to test out the Bridge. I instantly became aware of the fact that the wind was blowing in my face at gale force. I mean - if I had been wearing a windbreaker, I might have actually been airborne. I estimated that if the wind were blowing like this in the morning, that the race would take about 24 hours. When I turned around, I actually ran faster UP the other side than I ran DOWN it against the wind. Fortunately, we would all have to fight the same wind; I was just hoping for a fast race. I felt pretty good from my run and the rest of the evening was more relaxed than expected thanks to us hitting dinner before the crowds developed.

For a bunch of fast runners, we sure look like a mixed and motley crew. Just goes to show you that you can't judge a book by its cover. I had no qualms about starting at the back of this group. (photo: Ed Hughes)

Race morning. This is where Elite status really made life easy. Once again the hotel location was a great advantage...I was able to sleep in much longer than most people and then run the 1.5 miles straight down the road to the start as a warmup. Elites also got their own porta-potty which was patrolled by race personnel. No elite number - no potty. Since I didn't have to get bussed to the start extra early, I didn't have to partake of this advantage but it was nice to know it was there if I needed it. There was also a bus for the Elites parked about 100 yards in front of the start line. We could sit on the bus to warm up (it was right at the edge of "chilly" and "cold" that morning), we could also wait till the last minute to strip off our warmups and put them on the bus to carry all of our gear to the finish. We didn't have to merge into the mass of humanity either. The 60 or so Elites lined up about 10 feet in front of the wall of 35,000 people and we got to warm up right until the last minute. As I stood there trying to stay warm, I glanced back once and it was like looking into the eye of a tornado. I wish I had never looked back. It was almost terrifying to think what would happen to someone who tripped in the first few yards.

With the road being 5-6 lanes wide at the start, we looked like such a small band of runners just spread about 2 layers deep. In the mix were the Kenyans and Ethiopians, some amazingly fast women runners and a pretty good who's-who of SC Open and Masters runners - including my Fleet Feet teammates Tim Briles (31:45, 27th) and Jon Stoehr (32:15, 33rd). Unlike the previous evening, the gods were smiling upon us with a tailwind on our way up and over the bridge. It would be a quick pace. After a quick word from the Mayor (who flat out asked us to be sure and spend a lot of money while we were in town), the horn sounded. I swear I heard them yell, "Release the hounds!" I noticed pretty quickly that the HR I was scheduled to hold for the first 2 miles leadng up to the Bridge seemed a bit more of an effort. My pace was good - right where I wanted it to be - but a bit of worry slipped through my mind for an instant.

In what seemed like an instant we were 2 miles in and about to climb the Bridge. I passed Janis cheering her heart out for no other reason than the fact that she is a good wife who would probably rather be doing anything else other than standing there in the cold to watch me run by. I was allowed to take my HR up at mile 2 but someone had mistakenly put the 2-mile clock more than a hundred yards shy of where it should have been. The small group I was with chuckled when one runner said "Wow - 2-mile PR's for everyone!". I allowed myself to slow down a bit in order to stay in my correct HR zone. I knew that once we crested the top at mile 3, I would gain it all back and hopefully more. Several runners passed me slowly and I just watched them go. At this point, the leaders were already 3 minutes ahead of me and well out of sight but that's not a surprise. The winner ran nearly 1:00/mile faster than I did and was probably born running.

I look more like I'm shuffling as I keep my effort level a bit lower on the way up the climb. On the other side...SHAZAM!

The instant I got over the top, I basically started sprinting down to keep the HR the same as when I was climbing; a recurring theme with my new racing strategy that coach Rick Kattouf has successfully instilled in me. I'm pretty sure I reeled in more people than had passed me. I was flying - a sub-5:00 mile. As I passed a couple of runners, they sped up and tucked in behind me like a water-skier in my wake. We hit the bottom at mile 4 and I was so looking forward to my last raise in HR for the final 2 miles. It was not to be. I could barely muster an additional 2 beats all the way to the finish. This was the foreshadowing that reared it's head in the first mile. The good news was that I could still maintain this HR. The bad news was that I would miss out on an opportunity to kick a few extra seconds the last couple of miles. I was comfortably with a good group of four runners that all kept themselves in check at this point in the race. The two things that I really remember as we ran into downtown Charleston were:

1. At the very bottom of the Bridge, one runner got really close to me and clipped my foot from behind as I ran. I didn't hear what he said to me, but it sounded more like "give me some room" than "sorry about that". Since I wasn't sure, I half-shrugged it off. If you want more room, then get in front of me. So, about a quarter-mile later, he bumps shoulders with me. OK. We are now in a group of four on a road that is 5 lanes wide. The third time, I nearly lost it..."Dude!". This is a running race, not a hockey game! I ended up beating him to the line by a second. I wish I had felt better; that made me want to dust him. Oh well. Turns out he was from the Ukraine. Maybe they have 'proximity issues' there.

2. Gregg Cromer (or, "Double-G" as he is called) is one of the fastest triathlete-runners in the state. A few years ago, he won nearly every run portion of every triathlon he entered. He's back. I passed him on the way down the Bridge and thought that I would not see him again. Something made me look back just before mile 6; maybe it was the irritating guy who kept bumping into me. Whatever it was, I had to laugh. As I looked back, Gregg was about 10 feet behind us and looked like Forrest Gump with his arms pumping and his legs ahead of the rest of his body. To make matters worse - he had to be the only guy running that fast in a regular shirt (not a racing top), a baseball cap, and longer, baggy shorts. He actually looked like a cartoon. But he caught us. I'm betting he couldn't bear to see me ahead of him. As I mentioned, I had little to give at the end and he beat me by one second. At least he didn't try to deny that he had been training a lot. I would've had to call 'bullshit' on that one.

My 34:27 was yet another PR this year but I felt I left 20 or so seconds on the table the last 2 miles. That's good - it gives me something to strive for. Gregg and I grabbed our gear off the Elite bus and after chatting with him and my teammates, I sat on a return bus for 45 minutes. The logistics of a point-to-point race is already bad for racers and spectators but when the only short way back to the start is via a bridge that you have completely closed...well, it was a bit of a hassle. I would have loved to have Janis at the finish but the organizers made this virtually impossible. They could have allowed foot and bike traffic to traverse the Bridge before, during and after the race, but they didn't. I was not going to partake of the finish line festivities while Janis was stranded back in the hotel. For a race of this magnitude, it's a shame that they don't consider the spectators at all.

It's fun to slice and dice your placing a bit. It makes us all feel better when we compare ourselves against our peers. Here are some facts with regards to my placing at this race:

34:27
62nd Overall/31st American/19th South Carolinian - 33,057 finishers
11th Finisher over the age of 40 (5th American Master...yes, the Kenyans bring their old guys too)
1st Finisher in the 45-49 age group (1165 finishers)
Longest last name in the top 100 finishers (HA!...take that, South Africans)

Race Notes:
* I was hoping to get to break out the new Rudy Project sunglasses for the race but alas, it was yet another overcast day. Perfect for my 'racing red' lenses. fortunately, the rain stayed away for the entire day.
* Unbeleivably - for those still keeping count - Stephen Sykes finished just 3 places and 6 seconds behind me.
* The light dusting of yellow pollen that showed up our car this weekend may well account for my inability to get my HR maxed today. My chest congestion would grow pretty severe in the days that followed the race and is still present nearly 3 weeks later. I was wise enough to take a short break at this time of year since I anticipated allergy problems.
* Thanks to Ed Hughes who stood in as my photographer for the race. If I'm not mistaken, Ed ran the race carrying his camera. I hope he didn't hack a lot of runners off as he ran by them "Say cheese!"
* When I called to request assistance from the Elite athlete representative, I told her that I anticipated running a 34:30. I was off by 3 seconds.

Next Up: I finally switch gears a bit and turn towards triathlons, starting with the inaugural Paris Mountain triathlon. My racing break is over and it's time to add some swimming and cycling!...