The Good and the Ugly

The Redbuds and Dogwoods are bursting with color here in Richmond, but there weren’t any in the woods of Prince William Forest Park on Saturday. The only foliage we saw were the dead remnants of last year’s beech leaves clinging desperately to dry branches until this spring's new growth finally drives them off. 

I ran with a bunch of Marines on Saturday. The Irish Sprint 10K is organized by the US Marine Corps and finishing gets you a guaranteed entry into October’s Marine Corps Marathon. Judging from quantity of high and tight coifs, plenty of Marines participated too.

The course was about 50-50 roads and trails. The first half was heavily rolling terrain with a fundamental uphill trend. The second half was mainly flat and downhill, but the diabolical race director set the final 300 meters on a steady incline. On that last stretch, I passed one guy chugging along rhythmically muttering, “Dig deep, dig deep, dig deep.” And he did.  

I think all the top finishers were active or retired Marines. Even the first place masters winner was a 45 year old retired Lt. Colonel who finished in 38:56 which works out to less than six and a half minutes per mile.  The first masters woman was a retired marine also and member of the Marine Corps Marathon Hall of Fame. These are serious people.

Yes, the morning beer was green

Third place overall went to a high school freshman at 38:24. Yikes. I haven’t timed any of my training runs yet, so I had no idea what to expect. I finished in 50:55 and that works out to about 8:13 per mile. Given the tough course, I’m plenty happy with that.

My number one fan, inimitable support crew and all around favorite person, Kimberly Anderson, was waiting for me at the finish and got this shot of me enjoying a green beer with St. Patrick and a fine bagpiper.

The organizers arranged for music at three places along the course. But I have to tell you, the music at the start line was like none I had ever heard before. The DJ played some violent metal-head, warrior-like Marine Corps songs with eerie  rumbling beats and lyrics that would curl your hair – lines about marching on into the fire…. Then he mixed in some IRA drinking songs with lyrics about avenging the deaths of your Irish brothers and stuff like that. Chilling, but fun.

So Saturday was a good day. Finished a tough 10K number 9 of 111 in my age group and in the top 12% of nearly 1,700 finishers overall. Sunday was not so good. Sunday I made a big training blunder. Here’s what happened.

I scheduled a 20 mile run for Sunday. We usually like to do long runs point to point. Kim typically meets me at the halfway split with food and fluids, then she picks me up at the finish and we go have lunch. This week she had a handful of students collecting ribbons at a horse show so I was on my own.

I planned poorly. I laid out a loop course, but didn’t stage any food or fluids. I figured I could stop at a convenience store along the way if I needed to reload. I also planned to run my marathon pace as far as possible – I need to beat nine minute miles in order to easily qualify for JFK 50 Miler. The temperature was a lot hotter than I thought.

The first ten miles I was right on. Even with a stop at mile six to try to fix my broken glasses and mess with my tunes. I stuck to sidewalks on the big rolling hills along Broad Street and Lauderdale Road. A quarter mile up and a quarter mile down (I’m guessing). I started bonking during the eleventh mile as Lauderdale goes up and then down into Patterson. I was running out of fluids and had no food. But I made eleven miles in 99 minutes – right on schedule.

There’s a Dairy Queen at the corner, and I bought a coke. Drank half of it and dumped the other half into my CamelBak. That was a big help. For about fifteen minutes. Never entered my mind to get something to eat. What a dope.

This pic was taken at roughly mile fifteen

Patterson has big long rolling hills, just like the ones on Broad Street in the first half of the course. It's like running along an interstate that has an intermittent shoulder. There was no shade and the temp was getting up towards 80. I hate heat. I am very much a cold weather guy. By mile fifteen I was out of fluids again and there were no more convenience stores or fast food joints.

My legs had long since ceased to act like legs and had become more like jointed lead logs that I had to keep throwing forward from the hip. When I finally got to Manakin Road and knew that I was only four miles from home, I got an unexpected attitude adjustment and kicked up the tempo, but it only lasted 150 yards. Before I got to Hermitage Road, I was so dehydrated my hamstrings and glutes had seized up and I knew it was all over except the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I got back home under my own power so it didn’t qualify as a DNF. But I walked the last three miles. Ignominious? Yep. But I learned a good lesson. The eighteen miler I did the week before went so well that I didn’t treat the twenty with the respect it deserved.

I’m going to do twenty-one this weekend, but I have some energy gels and food bars to take along. I’ll also have a better plan and execution. Thanks for reading. Don’t forget our wounded warriors and the Semper-Fi Fund. Small donations all add up. $10 or $20 is fine and a big help. Click on the link and help me get to $10,000 by November.