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I ran 40km and knit a hat for my 40th birthday

2024-03-04T23:57:24Z

For my 40th birthday I decided to run just over a mile (1.66km) every hour for 24 hours for a total of 40km (almost 25 miles) from midnight to midnight. This challenge is inspired by Beau Miles' video "Running a marathon, one mile every hour", where he ran 26 miles in 24 hours and did various chores between miles. But instead of chores my goal was to knit an entire cabled hat between laps. The hat pattern I decided to knit is Uljhan by Shweta Shankar Khatri, a two-color cabled worsted weight hat.

Figure 1. Finished hat

When my sister and brother-in-law heard about my plan, they bought me 24 snacks. They wrote the name of each snack on a card. After each lap, I drew one of the cards at random and at whatever it said. That was my calories sorted.

To measure the effects of sleep deprivation I also did one round of Puzzle Storm on lichess after each lap every hour — it is a game where you solve as many easy (but progressively harder) chess puzzles as you can in 3 minutes. I usually consider a Puzzle Storm score of over 30 to mean I’m feeling sharp (my all-time high is 39), anything between 20-30 is normal, and if I score below 20 I know I’m too tired to be trying to play chess.

I had expected the lack of sleep to be the most difficult part of the challenge. I’m someone who generally operates on a solid 9 or 10 hours of sleep per day. But it was surprisingly not an issue. Looking at the Puzzle Storm sparkline chart below, there’s not a pattern corresponding to tiredness. The only naps I took were between 4am and 7am, and those totaled less than an hour together. I think having the knitting to concentrate on (“just get one row done”) was enough to distract my mind from sleep.

Data

Explore the results with the interactive dashboard below (use arrow keys or the buttons to go to progress between hours). Full-screen version here. Click photos for larger versions.

Colophon

For details on the hat pattern, see my project on Ravelry: 40km Birthday Beanie

The dashboard I made from notes I took during each lap. I converted the notes to a JSON array of objects, and then used my usual approach of write an es6 class to store the state and a bunch of DOM references for each component. It is a technique somewhere between the spaghetti of storing state directly in DOM everywhere and using some “modern” framework like vue/react that I usually settle on for small projects (and sometimes big projects).

You can see all the data and javascript here: dashboard.js

It took me almost two years to get around to converting my notes into the interactive dashboard. I finally asked an LLM to prototype something up, and even my local model (qwen3-30b-a3b) got something working and fun almost immediately! I didn’t use the code it generated in the end, but it was enough to get me motivated to work on my own version. I also had it give me examples of the card flip animation and SVG sparklines that I based my code on.

Race Report: Imogene Pass Run 2022

2022-10-22T02:45:46Z

Race Information

The Imogene Pass Run is a 17.1 mile mountain race between the Colorado towns of Ouray and Telluride by way of a 13,134 foot pass (climbing over 5,000 feet in the first ten miles). The first time I ran it was in 2018. I was already in training for my hometown marathon that fall, so I was in good shape and finished it in about 3h20m. I ran it again in 2019; I’d done less running since my marathon and my little sister beat me to the top of the pass that year. I had to race her all the to the finish. 3h30m. The 2020 race was canceled for Covid and I skipped 2021 because I was even further out of shape (though my sisters ran it!). I came back this September to try to beat my 2018 time.

Figure 1. The race with only one hill

Pre-race

The weather forecast was looking good early in the week, but by the night before the race it was calling for possible snow in the morning at the pass and thunderstorms wall afternoon. I brought a handheld water bottle, one birthday cake flavor Gu packet, a jacket, a hat, and gloves in a running vest; I did put my gloves on near the top when my hands got cold (and kept them on all the way down to protect my hands if I fell), but we ended up having another year with clear weather for the entire race! Except there was some smoke (from fires in Wyoming?) which I didn’t notice but was bothering some of the runners.

I don’t know my splits for my previous runs, so I wasn’t sure what my strategy should be, but for whatever reason I had in mind “60 minutes to Lower Camp Bird, 90 minutes to Upper Camp Bird, 1h15m to the pass.” If I managed that pace, I thought a 3h05m finish might be possible — though my real goal was just to beat my 3h20m PR.

Start to Lower Camp Bird aid station (mile 5)

I thought I started more toward the front of the crowd this year, but I got stuck in standstill traffic at the first offroad shortcut. My chip time was 18 seconds after the gun time at the start. Next time I will start even closer to the front.

But otherwise I felt great to the Lower Camp Bird aid station at about 8km. I got there in about 53 minutes; I’m sure that must be much faster than previous years (and 7 minutes ahead of my mental schedule). I was constantly being surprised by how much downhill there is in the first 10K. (I think I wrote that same thing in my 2018 race report — apparently I forgot.) I grabbed a cookie at the aid station and kept going.

Beyond the aid station there was a ranger warning us that a moose kept crossing the road just ahead and told us not to yell at it. I never saw the moose, but my sister’s boyfriend (who was already several minutes ahead of me) did! He said it was a huge bull; when he saw it, it was looking down at the road wanting to cross but unsure of all the runners.

Lower Camp Bird to Upper Camp Bird aid station (mile 7.6)

With the steeper sections up to Upper Camp Bird I quickly went from feeling good to feeling like my legs were very heavy. I walked much more than I wanted to, but I couldn’t get myself to run even on some of the shallower grades when I thought I would be able to.

This section was a little bit discouraging; I had done more mountain running this year than in any of my previous Imogene Pass Runs, but my legs were evidently not ready for the steep hills after running hard for the first 10K. But I still made it to Upper Camp Bird in 91 minutes, still about on schedule! (I think about the same time I got there in 2018, so I already lost all my gains by running the first 10k faster.)

I got some m&ms from the food table and kept going to see how quickly I could get to the pass.

Upper Camp Bird to Imogene Pass Summit (mile 10.0)

From Upper Camp Bird to the summit was purely a hike, except at the few downhill bits. I didn’t even pretend to be on a run. My lungs felt surprisingly good — the whole hike felt much easier than previous years (yay for actually training at altitude this year!). But my legs were so tired that it still took me 52 minutes to get to the pass (only a minute faster than my slow 2019 year and probably a couple of minutes slower than my 2018 run). If I was going to beat my 2018 time it would have to be by beating my previous downhill time.

At the pass I drank some electrolyte drink, ate my gu (which was not easy with my cold hands), then headed down the hill.

The Descent: Summit to Finish Line (mile 17.1)

The downhill felt much faster than I expected. In previous years I had to brake most of the first few miles; this year I just ran over the rocks. My legs felt tired, and I’m sure my form wasn’t great, but I never felt like I had to slow down to avoid falling. Maybe another benefit of doing several mountain runs in preparation this year?

Unfortunately it didn’t last. After about 5k I could feel my quadriceps, especially my right leg, twitch a few times and threaten to cramp. It got progressively worse. With 5k to go my right calf was also on the verge of cramping. I slowed way down in an attempt to prevent cramping and being forced to walk. I did some calculations and knew if I could hold my current pace I would be close to my PR.

By the time I hit the streets of Telluride I tried to speed up for a final sprint and my right calf and quads immediately started to cramp. I slowed to a jog to the finish line. If it had been a few hundred meters further I might not have made it.

Disappointing because of how well the descent started. I definitely pushed my legs to the limits of what I had trained them for (and probably didn’t eat enough — it’s only 17 miles, but I forget that it is over 3 hours so I should treat it more like a marathon), but I still finished in 3:19:29… a new PR by a few seconds!

Race Report: Red, White & Boom! Half Marathon

2019-08-05T15:38:46Z

I was in Minneapolis this July to visit family and hike the 260-mile Superior Hiking Trail. Before we left for that journey we had a chance to run the Red, White & Boom! half marathon through Minneapolis.

My best race performance to date is still a half I ran in Colorado last Fall (1:29), and I had hopes that with the lower elevation I would be able to hit a new PR at that distance. But in the days before the race, the organizers emailed out alerts that the weather conditions on race morning were going to be less than ideal.

It ended up being about 80F at 80% humidity, not something running in Colorado has trained me for. I’ve also been suffering from some burnout since my last race, which has resulted in neglect of my long runs. But instead of adjusting my goal pace significantly, I decided to do the first mile at 8:00/mile then accelerate during the rest of the first half (mostly uphill) while I was still feeling good and hope that the nice gradual downhill on the second half would be enough to pull me through the finish.

Elevation profile (the red line is the 5K course)

I started out exactly as I planned and felt good up to about the 10K mark. And then I felt suddenly like I had no energy whatsoever. I’m a heavy sweater in any conditions, but on this course I was soaked to saturation and my shoes were splushing with every step for most of the race because of all the sweat that was dripping off my shorts and legs into them. I willed myself to jog the nice downhill parts, stopping to drink and walk at each aid station, and then walked much of the last two miles as everyone I had passed in the first miles ran past me.

Official splits
Location	Race Time	Pace Between
Finish	1:49:50	10:43
11.5M	1:32:42	8:52
6.55M	48:50	7:22
1M	7:59	7:59

So not the most well-executed half marathon I’ve ever run, but I still had fun in a humbling sort of way. My biggest regret is that there were hot dogs at the finish area, but I was probably not feeling well enough to eat one anyway.

Race Report: My 18th Bolder Boulder (2019)

2019-06-05T17:54:13Z

This past Memorial Day I ran my 18th Bolder Boulder and set a PR on the course (my only faster 10K was a downhill race I did last year).

Goal and results

Goal	Notes	Success?
43:05	My 2008 Bolder Boulder PR	Yes! 🙂
41:00	Based on recent 5K	No 🙁

Goal

Notes

Success?

43:05

My 2008 Bolder Boulder PR

Yes! 🙂

41:00

Based on recent 5K

No 🙁

This Spring I ran a sub-20:00 5K for the first time. That made a sub-40:00 BolderBoulder feel realistic for the first time, but I didn’t think I was quite there yet and decided to pace myself for a sub 41:00 finish instead.

The BolderBoulder course is mostly up hill for the first four kilometers, but then the 8th and 9th kilometers are fast down hill, and then the last kilometer climbs back up to the finish in Folsom Field stadium. It is a net up-hill course by a bit (less than 100 meters).

Elevation profile

Making it to 5K without giving up is the hardest part of the race for me every year, so I came up with the following pacing plan which would get me to the top of Casey Hill at about 41:00 pace and then hopefully allow me to speed up for the last 4K finishing around 40:30:

Kilometer	Goal split	Actual split
1	4:06	4:06
2	4:06	4:01
3	4:06	4:10
4	4:06	4:07
5	4:06	4:08
6	4:06	4:17
7	4:00	4:01
8	3:50	4:00
9	4:00	4:10
10	4:00	4:12
Total	40:26	41:12

Kilometer

Goal split

Actual split

4:06

4:01

4:06

4:10

4:06

4:07

4:06

4:08

4:06

4:17

4:00

4:01

3:50

4:00

4:10

4:00

4:12

Total

40:26

41:12

Obviously I was unable to accelerate on the last 4K like I had hoped, but it’s still my best BolderBoulder by almost 2 minutes! The official race splits were in miles:

Mile	Time
1	6:34
2	6:34
3	6:43
4	6:44
5	6:29
6	6:42
Finish	41:12.68

(That’s an average of 6:38/mile.)

Race

The weather was very nice. Sunny, but not too warm (to the point that it was a bit too chilly after the race).

Start: In the starting corral a regular from Parkrun in the same wave found me which was nice. He was recovering from a cold and was planning on going out a bit slower than me — I figured if I wasn’t feeling up to my goal pace and saw him pass me I’d be able to hang with him for a 42:00 finish which would still soundly beat my PR.
KM 1: I normally run this kilometer much too fast. This year I started intentionally slow and stayed comfortable which put me at the Kilometer 1 banner right on my 4:06 target.
KM 2: Just try to maintain the same comfortable pace. I must be warmed up because I finished a few seconds fast and it feels easy.
KM 3: Noticeably up hill at first. This is where I think I get myself into trouble on this course — I end up redlining here and not being able to recover until the sixth kilometer. This year I allowed myself to slow down a bit instead.
KM 4: This is steadily up hill, but I’m not nearly as tired as I usually am here! I’m very close to my target pace.
KM 5: Even though this is downhill I have to concentrate to maintain the pace that felt so easy 10 minutes ago. But I manage to not slow down and also feel fairly comfortable at the point on the course where I had to walk to catch my breath last year (when I finished in 43:4x).
KM 6: Back up hill a bit and I’m struggling. Again I allow myself to slow down rather than push too hard — if I can make it to the down hill that starts on the next km in good shape then I’m pretty sure I can make up quite a bit of time.
KM 7: First a down hill to get my spirits up. Then up Casey Hill, but I know that begins the long and fast down hill section so it doesn’t even bother me.
KM 8: I didn’t bomb down Casey Hill as fast as I thought I would. I was tired. But I got to this kilometer only a few seconds behind schedule and thought I could catch up. I tried to stay relaxed and let myself go with gravity. Unfortunately every time I looked at my watch I was not moving as fast as I felt I was.
KM 9: It’s sometimes a real struggle to maintain the pace once the down hill levels out. Luckily here my body switched to its autopilot mode. With no conscious effort my legs kept moving at race pace, and I was just along for the ride. I don’t know exactly what conditions bring on this flow state, but it has happened during all of my best races. If I could learn to accept it then I think I could become a faster runner — but instead I start to think and worry that I’m going to get tired too quickly if I don’t slow down and otherwise let my conscious mind interrupt a beautiful thing. Story of my life.
KM 10: During this kilometer I experienced bowel discomfort which is something that doesn’t happen to me often during running. I’ve never had to stop during a race before, but it got to the point that I slowed down and started scanning for emergency port-o-potties. Once I made it up the hill and almost to the stadium I decided the best option was just to finish as quickly as possible. During my kick around the turn to the finish I looked up and saw myself being followed on the stadium’s jumbotron. That was fun but also would have made any sort of incident more embarrassing.

Afterward I jogged down to where my mom was watching the race and used the restroom at the coffee shop there. It would have been nice if that happened before the race. Oh well, new Bolder Boulder PR!

At the finish line

Breaking20: A 5K Race Report

2019-05-20T17:59:14Z

I ran my first 10K road race when I was 12 years old (55:37), and I’ve felt like a runner ever since. In high school I ran on the cross country team for almost two years before becoming academically ineligible. Unfortunately I wasn’t any more disciplined at training than I was at attending class. A good 5K race for me was under 21:00, and I think an average race for me was around 22:00 or slower. The slowest varsity guys in my school’s division could reliably break 20:00, and that became my goal even post-high school.

A lifelong goal, it turns out, because in my experience running 5K in under 20 minutes is almost impossible. My hobbyjogger technique of training every spring for a 5K and 10K in May and then slacking during the summer and hibernating during the winter before starting over again wasn’t getting me great results, anyway. In 2008-2009, almost 8 years after high school, I was a bit more consistent (trained for my first marathon) and came close to breaking 20:00 several times including a 20:05 PR.

Now ten years later and I’m running consistently again! I ran a 1:29 PR at a half marathon in late 2018, which is the VDOT equivalent of a sub 19:30 5K. I thought for sure I would break 20 before the end of the year.

It helped that I discovered a local Parkrun, a free timed 5K run every Saturday. Unfortunately this winter’s snow schedule kept everything icy and conspired against my planned interval workout several weeks in a row. On December 15, without much time left to meet my 2018 goal, I ran hard at Parkrun. 20:16. So close. As usual my first and last kilometer were my fastest, and I slowed way down during the 3rd kilometer. I decided to try again in two weeks, the last Parkrun of 2018. There was some packed snow on the course, but this time I maintained a harder effort during the middle kilometers and finished in… 20:27. Huh.

It wasn’t going to happen in 2018, but I had a chance at redemption in January at a local Oatmeal Festival 5K I run every year. I accidentally left my watch at home the morning of the race. But I know what a good 5K pace is supposed to feel like (hard) and thought running entirely by feel might actually help me. While we were lined up at the start line the race organizers made an announcement that they had shortened the course because of the icy conditions. I ended up running well (first in my age group) and finished in 16:58… but since I didn’t have my GPS watch on I don’t know how far it was. Using the distance someone else measured I calculated I was on 19:17 5K pace, but that seems overly optimistic.

My next formal race and chance at 20-minute glory was on May 4th at a hometown 5K that I run every year which is a fund raiser for a local elementary school. That gave me over three months to focus on 5K training, and I hoped I’d also go under 20:00 at Parkrun at least once before then. I got Faster Road Racing by Pfitzinger and Latter with the intention of following one of their 5K plans. Unfortunately it continued to snow every week through April, and my motivation flagged (I didn’t really track my mileage but it was probably closer to 30 than the 40+ miles I intended to keep up).

One problem was that I didn’t really enjoy the Pfitzinger plan and its lack of variety. It calls for only two lactate threshold (tempo) runs, both in the first three weeks of the schedule, which is a pace I learned to like during my Jack Daniels marathon training. I know the science behind tempo runs has been questioned, but running harder than usual but still slower than my VO2max I think is very beneficial to me psychologically without leaving me too tired. One thing I wanted to try this training cycle that I’ve never done before is faster interval work — my usual intervals are 1KM at about 5K pace. The Pfitz plan has one VO2max interval workout per week, but the only speed work is strides after some runs.

So I deviated from the book’s schedule, using it only as a very rough guide, and instead most weeks followed my own ad-hoc plan structured around an interval workout, a tempo pace Parkrun every Saturday, and a long run:

Monday: Off
Tuesday: Easy
Wednesday: Intervals
Thursday: General aerobic (10K to chess club)
Friday: Easy
Saturday: Tempo run (~20:30 5K at Parkrun)
Sunday: Long run (8-12 miles)

For my mid-week intervals I began alternating VO2max (5x1000m at a little faster than 5K pace) with speed (10x400m at about mile pace). I only got two of the speed workouts in before my May 4th race, and after the first one my legs were sore for days — an indication I think that I need more of that stimulus in my training. My long runs were usually on the short side, and even when I did 10+ miles I often slacked and broke them into two runs. I’m always afraid I’m going to get bored, but running longer and more consistent long runs is probably easy way for me to improve in the future.

On April 6 I ran a 19:48 at Parkrun! It didn’t even feel like a harder effort than my usual 20:30 runs, though I had done fewer miles that week so my legs were better rested. The night before the run my little sister took me to see the most wholesome and repetitive ska band ever (which is saying something), so maybe that helped, and luckily I’m too shy to dance much so my legs didn’t suffer from it. With a month of training and a full taper I was pretty sure I could finish even faster at my upcoming 5K race. The Parkrun course is very flat, but it is about 1/3 on a dirt trail and has two 180-degree turnarounds which break my rhythm and slow me down. The race course, on the other hand, has a long downhill during the 2nd kilometer, then the entire 3rd kilometer is back uphill (it’s a loop, so zero net elevation gain), but it is all on hard surfaces with no turnarounds, so I thought it would be a faster course overall. Then again, hills are difficult to pace.

Once the snow stopped lingering another of nature’s stumbling blocks presented itself like it does every April around here: patches of beautiful little purple flowers that suffocate me. It’s called blue mustard Chorispora tenella, but in homage to midwestern 90s ska bands everywhere I call them blue meanies because I am very sensitive to the pollen of these little respiratory mustard plugs. If there is a patch of them within a few meters of me their stench hits me (hits me! hits me!) with a sensation of not being able to breathe. I think probably they don’t actually diminish much if at all the amount of oxygen my lungs take in, but it feels like inhaling does nothing. Every Spring for about a month they make my usual running trails, including part of the 5K race course, a little less pleasant.

Interestingly, other people I’ve talked to about the flowers aren’t bothered by them, and can’t even smell them unless they get very close. One article I found even claims of blue mustard that “There is no noticeable floral scent,” which is a lie.

This particular blue meanie specimen lives with hundreds of its kin on the 5K course right at the top of the hill where mile 3 begins. Photo by Louis Burkhardt.

I came up with a pace plan based on the course hills. I knew the 3rd kilometer would be slow because it is all uphill, and I don’t think I’ve ever run a 4th kilometer of a 5K in under 4:00, but I was optimistic:

Kilometer	Goal split	Actual split
1	3:55	3:48
2	3:50	3:52
3	3:59	4:08
4	3:55	4:03
5	3:55	3:57
Total	19:34	19:48

Kilometer

Goal split

Actual split

3:55

3:48

3:50

3:52

3:59

4:08

3:55

4:03

3:55

3:57

Total

19:34

19:48

I lined up in the second layer of runners at the start. The front line was mostly elementary school kids. I was a little bit worried about running someone over, but they all went out way faster than me. The only person in front of the kids after the first 50 meters was the man who would go on to be the overall winner (15:25). Within a 100 meters or so the course takes a left turn up a short but noticeable hill where most of the kids faded back. I know from experience that it is possible to run this hill too hard and never really recover, so I allowed myself to slow down and stay relaxed on the way up.

The kids pulled me along to a faster start than I had planned, but it probably worked out for the best since I felt good and in control after the first kilometer. I felt better than I’ve ever felt at that point on the course in the past despite being faster than my planned split. I was passed by one man on the first hill, but passed him back during the second kilometer just before the long downhill. From that point on my position stayed fixed. There was a woman about 40 meters ahead of me; my plan was to try to catch her on the downhill and then stay with her during the tough 3rd kilometer where I traditionally fall apart.

I gained only a little bit of ground on her during the downhill. She caught and passed the woman in front of her, but then they both stayed together and held the pace better than me as the uphill began. At the top of the hill I got some motivation to accelerate for a few hundred meters as the scent of the blue meanies hit me, but the two runners in front of me were still slowly pulling away. My goal became to simply keep them in sight, which I did during the 4th kilometer, but the last kilometer curves around the school building so with about 500 meters left I had lost sight of them along with any mimetic motivation to kick to the finish. But at least I managed to maintain a sub-4:00/km pace and crossed the line in 19:48.

This race usually attracts some strong local competition with the top 5 men running under 16:00 and the top 5 women running under 19:00. But they didn’t hold it last year, so I guess they lost some momentum because I took 6th place overall… and I was the second-place man.

I don’t mean to complain about being given an award, and it is entertaining to watch gender essentialists of all stripes trip over their own contradictions especially with Caster Semenya's case in the news recently, but it does seem a little bit silly to be on the podium while two of the women who beat me walk away empty-handed given that the whole point of sports gender divisions is to recognize athletes who don’t enjoy whatever biological (and, to a hopefully diminishing degree, social) advantages are conferred to men. There’s got to be a better way. I’d suggest two categories: “open” to recognize the top three finishers regardless of gender and “non-men” to recognize the next three non-men finishers.

That scheme is not perfect and still suffers from the shortcomings of the “men” and “women” divisions, including a possible bias toward androgenic (like intersex and trans) women in the “non-men” category, but it pushes those shortcomings further toward the noise floor of the variance between socially-recognized genders. It would solve the most common absurdities, at least, like awarding me a 2nd-place prize just because I’m a man and most of the five people who beat me are women.

Anyway, I thought I would soundly beat my Parkrun PR, and instead I exactly matched it with a great deal of difficulty. Still, at least I am a consistent sub 20:00 5K runner now, and it only took me 18 years of trying!

I’m currently in my taper week for the Bolder Boulder at the end of May (which is the 10K race that usually gets me running again every year). My next lifelong goal is to run that race in under 40:00, but I don’t think I’m quite there yet. My goal for this year is 41:00.

Desert Race Report: McDowell Mountain Frenzy 25K

2018-12-19T17:18:03Z

Prelude

Thanks to my sister injuring her knee, I got a discounted entry to the McDowell Mountain Frenzy trail race near Phoenix on December 1st, four weeks after my marathon. She was signed up for the 50K, but I opted for the 25K, because shorter. My Dad signed up for the 5 mile race and we made a trail race weekend out of it: we flew out together, stayed at an Airbnb the night before and after the race, ate lots of pizza, then flew home.

We got to the starting area a good 15 minutes before Google had predicted (which is good, because otherwise it would have been tight). That gave us plenty of time to pick up our packets, use the portable toilets, watch the 50K start (the 50 milers had already started before we got there), and admire some of the desert flora before the 25K start at 7:45am.

Race

The 25K course consists of two loops on mountain bike single-track and avoids the big climbs that the 50K and 50 mile runners would go over:

Elevation Gain 1,119 Feet | 341 Meters

I didn’t really know what to expect, but with only around 1,000 feet of total elevation gain over 25K, I figured I should be able to maintain about my marathon pace — somewhere between 4:30 and 4:40 min./km (7:15 and 7:30 min./mile). If I could do that I’d finish somewhere just under 2 hours which, according to previous years' results, would put me in the top 10. So that was my goal at the start.

First loop: 0-16 KM (0-10 miles)

Within about a kilometer we had mostly sorted ourselves out and there was very little passing. I had fallen in behind a small group going about my pace that was slowly stretching out. We reached a sign that read “Double Dip” followed by two short but very steep descents (some other features along the course were named thanks to mountain bikers). I ran down these hard, taking advantage of them to pass the woman in front of me, but I immediately regretted it as my quadriceps felt much more beat up by the downhill than I had expected.

For the most part the trail was nice and sandy, with a few rocky bits (especially at wash crossings), and some tight turns with fun banked corners. There were several more very short, steep dips along the course, and even though I approached them with more respect each one left my quads noticeably in further disrepair.

I was passed twice near the one mile mark; both guys glided past and up out of sight seemingly without effort. I think they finished 1st and 2nd. My dad told me that they had started way after everyone else.

I also passed one more person, the last for the rest of the race. When the guy in front of me began to slow down a little I decided to keep up my 4:40 min/km pace and go ahead. Now there was no one else in sight ahead of me (I would occasionally see the next guy at the top of climbs, but he would always have vanished by the time I got to the downhill), so I had to remember to stay on course. Luckily all the turns were well-marked, because I had little idea where I was. I would sometimes see runners in various directions, probably doing a different distance, but wouldn’t know if they were ahead of me or behind me or on a completely different trail.

I kept my 4:40 pace for three kilometers (7:30 pace for two miles) when my watch (an old Garmin 305) started to beep incessantly with a warning about running out of space to save data. So I shut it off and ran by feel. The pace felt surprisingly hard, but I decided to trust my recent (road) marathon that I’d be able to hold on to it despite the trailiness of this race.

Without my watch the distances somehow felt longer. It was two more miles to the first aid station, but it felt more like four. Somewhere along the line I realized that I’d be running for around two hours and should probably take in some carbohydrates. At the first aid station most of the food was boxed up — and the volunteers seemed surprised that I wanted anything — but I grabbed an orange slice. Actually at all the aid stations the volunteers were very nice (and eager to make sure I got water or Gatorade in my handheld water bottle) but seemed surprised that I wanted to eat something; maybe because I was only doing the 25K? Probably no one in front of me was taking food.

The next aid station was about 3.5 miles along. Again it felt longer. I got some cookies and Gatorade. Then it was about 2.5 miles back to the start/finish line, including a nice down hill portion and then some ups-and-downs to complete the first loop. If it weren’t for the down hill I would have slowed down significantly here. I could feel myself fading, and my quads were just not recovering.

I made it to the start/finish line in 1:18:36 (4:54 min/km or 7:51 min/mile).

Second loop: 16-25 km (10-15.5 miles)

Already slower than I expected, and feeling tired, I grabbed several ginger snaps and oreos at the last aid station before beginning the second loop. The prospect of running 5.5 more miles, including another go on the Double Dip, did not sound very fun, but at least I could eat some cookies on the way.

The second loop didn’t seem as difficult on my legs as the first loop, but I think that is mostly just because I was going so much slower. The second lap is a figure-8: the course crosses itself at a culvert, first crossing over and then going through a large corrugated metal tunnel.

As I ran over the tunnel I could see a few 5-milers getting toward the end of their run. This was motivating and I tried to get going a little faster. Just before I got to the tunnel myself I was overtaken by a runner and could hear another one not far behind. This gave me some more motivation, and I was able to stay right with the guy who passed me for several hundred meters until I looked up and saw the final climb suddenly looming immediately ahead. It’s only a bit over 100 feet up, but it was steep enough to cause my legs to lose hope. I wasn’t even sure I’d make it up without walking; I moved to the right and continued to barely jog up as the other runner behind me sped up and past me. They were both out of sight by the time I got to the top. My legs were too beat to do the final descent very fast, but I did what I could and finally reached the finish line in a time of 2:04:44!

Someone handed me a finishers glass (my favorite kind of race swag!) and the guy who passed me on the final hill (and finished almost 2 minutes ahead of me) turned around to give me a fist bump.

Afterword

My dad had already finished his 5 mile run and was at the finish to greet me. We partook in the after-race food (including soda pop and grilled cheese sandwiches!) and spent a little bit of time walking around the desert. McDowell Mountain Park is in the foothills near the town of Fountain Hills, and I think we saw in the distance the famous fountain which gives the town its name.

I had slowed to an average of 5:07/km (8:14/mile) for the last loop, which is not as slow as I had thought. I didn’t quite finish in under 2 hours, but I did finish in 10th place! So I reached half of my goals.

As I’m writing this it has been two weeks since the race and my quadriceps on my right leg are still not fully recovered. I tried getting them dry needled last week, without any noticeable improvement. (I’ve done a hard half marathon, a full marathon, and a trail 25K each four weeks after the last one, so there may be some accumulated fatigue from that going on). If I were to do this or similar race again I would definitely approach the steep downhill bits with more respect, and I’d do more downhill practice during training.

The race itself was very well organized. It was my first Aravaipa event, though I recognize Jamil Coury from his Run Steep Get High Youtube channel. They definitely seem to know what they are doing. The 50K option at this race seemed like it would make an excellent first ultramarathon.

Before heading back to our Aribnb, my dad and I stopped at Fountain Park in Fountain Hills and walked around until the fountain went off.

The famous Fountain Hills fountain sprays water over 550 feet into the air. Photo by Derek Cashman (CC-BY-SA-3.0)

My lifelong running goal which I’d like to accomplish by the end of 2018 is to run a 5K race in under 20:00. I tried last Saturday at Parkrun and failed (20:16). I think the problem last week was that I know I’m in sub-20:00 shape, so I expected it to be easy. But of course it is never easy, so when I got uncomfortable I just gave up. My sore right quadriceps might have held me back a bit too. I’m hoping in two weeks to try again with more realistic expectations and more determination.

My next real race is a 5K in January which I hope to do well below 20:00.

Race Report: Winning Cash at My Hometown Marathon

2018-12-07T04:05:35Z

Prelude

The inaugural Broomfield Trails Marathon, my hometown’s very first marathon event, was my “A” goal race for my most recent training cycle. And that training cycle has been my most consistent ever. I started running again last summer when my sister and brother-in-law invited me to train (remotely) with them for a marathon in Missouri, and culminated with 24 weeks of Jack Daniels Plan A this Fall (though I took most of the winter off). I averaged 85k (53 miles) per week for the 16 weeks before the race, and peaked at 113k (70 miles). Following the Daniels plan is the first time I’ve incorporated so many tempo runs and marathon-pace long runs in my training.

Back in 2008-2009 I set most of my existing PRs and ran my first marathons. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever really run that much again, so it has been a happy surprise to find myself making so much progress again and moving beyond old plateaus. “I always wanted to die young. / Now I feel younger every day, / I only hope I die younger than I am.”

My long-distance hobbyjogger cv

Mostly to refresh my own recollection, here is a quick rundown of my past marathon+ races.

Boulder Backroads Marathon (2009) - I have no memory of why I decided to run a marathon in the first place. But I remember I trained for it using one of Hal Higdon’s plans (I probably peaked around 40-45 mpw). It was unusually hot on race day, and the race had a late start. It was close to 90F on the shadeless course by the halfway point. I failed to adjust my goal pace or hydration plan for the temperature (I was aiming for 3h45m, which may have been ambitious even in good weather) — and I’m not even sure if I ate ANYTHING. I hit the wall hard at Mile 20. I walked the last 10k to finish in 4:37:44.
Denver Marathon (2009) - After the disappointing finish in Boulder I found another marathon 4 weeks out to run in Denver in an attempt to redeem myself and my training. It ended up being another unseasonably hot day, but not as bad. I made myself walk through the water stations to drink, and finished close enough to my goal to be satisfied: 3:49:48
Marin Ultra Challenge 50K (2014) - One of my sisters decided she wanted to train for a 50K over the winter and asked if I’d do it with her. I had not done any long running since my 2009 marathons, but I had been doing some long-distance hiking. Unfortunately it was a very snowy and icy winter, so we trained less — and trained on trails much less — than we should have. I started way too fast, fell twice in the first miles cutting my knee, and the last 10K of the race involved lots of walking. But we finished! 6:22:08
Mo' Cowbell Marathon (2017) - The marathon that got me back into running. I had no goals going into it. I roughly followed the plan my sister and brother-in-law were using which I think they bought from Runner’s World. I felt very good for the last 5 miles (which I think were my fastest) and ended up with a 45-second negative split and 9-minute PR. Much better pacing than my first marathons: 3:40:54
Ragnar TN (2018) - This is a relay race from Chattanooga to Nashville (~200 miles) I did with two of my sisters and three of our friends. I think it was more of a challenge for our driver than the runners, but it is one of the few times I’ve traveled more than 40 miles by foot in a 24 hour period. Somehow one of my sisters managed to lose her shoes in the middle of the race, but she finished her legs on Walmart shoes and our team got 2nd place!

Strategy

Four weeks before the marathon I ran the Louisville Trail Half as a tune-up and finished in 1:29:04. Jack Daniels' VDOT calculator gives an equivalent marathon time of 3:05:45 (just shy of the Boston Qualifier threshold for me). But even though I felt good during the entire half, I knew that was an overly optimistic prediction based on my mere ~53 miles per week. Instead, to find a goal pace, I put my 1:29:04 finish time into the more conservative FiveThirtyEight marathon calculator. It gave me an estimate of 3:13:60, which is very close to 3:14:00. I decided to aim for 3:15:00, or about 4:37 min/km (7:26 min/mile).

Despite its name the Broomfield Trails Marathon is not what most people would consider a trail race. It takes place mostly on smooth, crushed gravel and paved multiuse paths. The total elevation gain is only about 1,000ft over the entire course:

Figure 1. Click for elevation profile

I did most of my long training runs on the course. On race day there was only one section — from Mile 20 to Mile 24 — that I had never run on before. I knew the most noticeable downhill and uphill were in the first 10 miles, making it both easier and slightly more risky to start out too fast. There is then a very nice gradual downhill from Mile 10 to Mile 20. The last 10k are gradually uphill (ugh). The course is a single loop, with the finish line right near the start line.

My plan was to end up at the halfway point no later than 1:38:00, and then hold my average pace until Mile 20 (slightly downhill), then hang on for the last 10k. That’s pretty much how things worked out!

There would be no pace groups, so I’d depend on my Garmin to let me know if I was going too fast or slow. I’m used to pacing myself by kilometers, but the race was marked in miles. So I set my autosplit to miles but left the display in kilometers. That way I’d know how fast I was going but could still get my mile split times. Unfortunately I messed it up by several times hitting a manual split at signs which ended up not being mile marker signs. I also discovered that my old Garmin 305 only stores complete data for the last two runs — but I’ve run many times since the race so I lost all that data and can’t consult it while writing this report.

Pre-race

Almost the whole family came out for the race! One sister and her husband flew from out of state to run the marathon. They had already done a fast marathon a few weeks prior, but decided to run this one as a training run for their upcoming 50k ultra. Another sister ran the half marathon. My father ran the 10k. Another sister and her boyfriend drove several hours to cheer for all of us. My mother lives near the course and gave us a ride to the start.

Start to Mile 10

It was a cold morning, around 35F by the start of the race. I wore gloves (my hands still got frozen) and a long-sleeve shirt I planned to take off once it got warmer, but I ended up wearing it the whole time. I also carried a little 100ml handheld water bottle so I could sip between aid stations (which were every 2-3 miles, so it wasn’t really necessary).

I ate a gel and then lined up with the sub 3:30 full and sub 1:30 half marathoners in the front group. I asked the guy next to me if he had a goal. “Around 3:10.” I told him I was aiming for 3:15 and he said he’d be sure to tell me to slow down if I passed him.

Figure 2. Waiting for the race to start. Sucks to your anthem.

And then we were running!

Figure 3. Go!

The first few km are on surface streets. Past my old high school, past my current grocery store, staying at about 4:39/km behind some of the leading half-marathon women. I thought I would go out too fast, because I always do, but I actually had to speed up a bit when I checked my watch.

A bit after 2 miles we turned onto a gravel trail with some rolling hills and then the steepest downhill of the course. After the hill (Mile 5) I caught up with my friend from the start and ran with him for most of the next 5 miles. He seemed to be running a very smart race; he said his plan was to take it easy until the downhill at Mile 10, and then use that to speed up. I was a bit ahead of schedule, but I expected to be after the down hill. My plan was to stay relaxed until the halfway point and then assess my pace.

At around Mile 6 I took my first gel (I think I took one about every 5 miles after this), and my right hip flexor made itself known. It is usually the first muscle to start complaining on long runs — but not normally until 15 miles or so. I hoped it would go away, but it never did — but it also never got worse. Just a strange thing it decided to do on marathon day.

My mom and sister and her boyfriend and dog had walked down to the course to cheer me on at the 6.5 mile point before we turned and headed up to the bikeway along the freeway!

Running along the freeway is not bad on a Sunday since traffic is light. Some of the cars honked support at us. The uphill to Mile 10 always felt hard during my training runs, but I took it easy and it felt easy during the race. I did get passed by some half marathoners here, including one guy who was loudly singing along to the music in his headphones.

Mile 11 to Mile 20

At about the 10 mile mark two things happened. First the half marathoners split off to run back toward the finish line. They had to go up a short but steep ramp to do so, and I was actually glad I got to go straight toward the downhill. And as soon as the downhill started the guy I had been running with and the one or two other marathoners I could see in front of me sped off out of sight. I was averaging 4:37/km, right on target, so I didn’t try to stay with them. I would be running alone with no other racers in sight for the next 10 miles.

At Mile 13 the course goes under the freeway and onto a path along the Big Dry Creek. The halfway point was very unceremonious. It wasn’t marked in any way that I saw. I think I got there at about 1:36:45 according to my watch.

My plan here was to keep up the same pace for the next 7 miles. I ended up speeding up a little bit confident that as long as I didn’t blow up before Mile 20 I would at least beat my 3:40:54 PR.

The only people I saw during this stretch were the volunteers manning the aid stations. They had cola, which I tried a few times! But mostly I took Gatorade, or water if I was eating a gel. At one station I tried to refill my water bottle and instead poured Gatorade all over my glove and already-cold hand. I then filled it with water instead but failed to screw the lid on correctly and within a hundred meters it was all over my shorts. So I didn’t drink anything for those miles.

Finally I reached Mile 20 where the course takes a sharp turn to the west and gradually runs back uphill to the start/finish.

Mile 21 to 26.2

Maintaining the 4:34/km pace I had averaged so far was now taking some concentration and various muscles were beginning to fatigue. But not 30 seconds after passing Mile 20 I saw someone ahead of me for the first time since the half marathoners split off. He was feeling the miles and I caught up and passed him quickly. He was young. It turns out he was the only under-20 entrant, and he finished less than 10 minutes behind me.

Just after Mile 23 the course crosses a street at an intersection. I must have been very tired here, because I couldn’t figure out where the trail continued on the other side. The policeman directing traffic had to point me toward the orange cone marking the route.

And then the most awkward part of the entire course. Instead of continuing along the foot path, it takes a detour a block down hill to the next street, around a traffic cone, then a block back up before rejoining the trail. It seems like they could have just moved the finish line a couple hundred meters and avoided this bit, but it did add an interesting challenge. Slowing down to turn around the cone and then trying to accelerate back uphill was surprisingly difficult on 23-mile marathon legs.

As I was heading out to the turnaround point I saw my friend from the start walking around the cone. Byt the time we passed each other, he was running again and waved. However, after I made the turn back up to the trail, he was off to the side stretching.

My own muscles were getting close to their limits — especially my left calf. I took this as a good sign that I had not held back too much, but the question was how hard I could keep pushing for the last few miles without anything cramping.

I saw another runner a ways ahead who seemed to be going about the same pace as me, so I wasn’t sure if I’d have time to catch him. But just after Mile 24 he was right in front of me. This is where the course rejoins a path I’m familiar with, and I gained some confidence that I could hold the pace to the end. I decided to pass and see whether I could stay ahead or whether he would go with me. I think he slowed a bit after I passed him, and soon I was well ahead.

I tried to eat a gel around here, just to make sure I had enough energy to the end, but my stomach didn’t want it and I ended up carrying the half-full gel packet the rest of the race.

I couldn’t see anyone else in front of me, so I just concentrated on not slowing down too much. Halfway through Mile 25 I could hear the announcer at the finish line. My left calf was about done, and my legs would not move faster no matter how much I willed, but they weren’t slowing down either and I knew I could make it.

One fun thing about this marathon, which is a fundraiser for two local non-profits, is that despite being a small-town race they were offering cash prizes for the top three overall men and women. I had some hopes that because it is the event’s first year no fast runners would show up and I’d be in the running for a prize. But when I heard the announcement of “the first marathon finishers” (clearly plural) echo over the loudspeaker that seemed less likely.

The last three miles definitely had felt like the longest of the course. If I hadn’t had people to pass, I think it is likely I would have slowed down significantly during that stretch. But I finally made the final turn with 0.2 miles to go to the finish line. My family was there to cheer me on — and it turns out my legs were capable of going faster. They had lied to me earlier.

Figure 4. Running to the finish. I’m laughing because my sister was excitedly running along beside me yelling things. I don’t normally smile when I run.

I crossed the line in 3:12:11, a few minutes faster than what felt like an optimistic goal and almost a 30 minute PR!

I don’t know my exact half split, but I estimate I must have done the second half a little over a minute faster than the first half. I’m happy with that pacing — I could have probably even gone a tad harder during the first half.

After

Immediately after I finished my dad told me I finished in 2nd place! It turns out the announcement I had heard was about the first marathon relay teams, and only one marathoner had finished in front of me. The next thing he asked me is if I had fallen, pointing at my knee. The gel I didn’t finish had found its way out of the packet and onto my leg and looked like blood.

I got some Gatorade and food from the food tent; my dad tried to find me something to clean my leg off with and came back with a large piece of gauze from he paramedics. For about 30 minutes I wasn’t feeling so good — my head felt tight like I was at high elevation. But after putting a jacket on and walking (slowly) over to where the awards were to be handed out I started feeling better.

It turns out the guy who beat me is ten years older than me, so I got a medal for first in my age group and a medal for second overall. The latter medal came with an envelope containing $200 cash which more than covered my entry fee.

I found out my sister suffered a knee injury (☹) during the run (it suddenly started hurting) so she and her husband decided to walk the last 8 miles. After the award ceremony we walked out and met them at Mile 25 and then took a shortcut back and watched them finish.

Afterthoughts

Finishing second, and winning a cash prize, at my home town’s inaugural marathon was very fun. The race itself seemed well-organized, especially for its first year. I liked the marathon course — but I was told the half-marathon runners had to stop for a train. Apparently the organizers anticipated it and had a timing mat for them to cross when they arrived at the tracks, and then cross again when the train had passed. That seems very sub-optimal. I expect next year to be more competitive, but I hope I keep running and am able to run it again.

Holding a marathon in November in Colorado is risky, but the weather was quite nice during the run, just a bit cold for after race festivities. My main fear was that it would be windy, but it was mostly calm until about 5 hours after the start (at which point the food tents blew over).

The local paper interviewed the winner (3:07:31). This was his very first marathon and apparently his only goal going into it was to beat 4 hours. He had an amazing race.

Shoes

I did almost all my training in Saucony Cohesion shoes. They are heavy, but I can reliably get them for about $30 shipped on amazon and get at least 800 miles out of each pair (running mostly on crushed gravel paths).

I ran the race (and my tempo and long run workouts) in Saucony Freedom ISOs, because they are a bit lighter and supposedly have more energy efficient foam. I chose them because I got a good deal on them ($50 instead of the MSRP of $150). They did feel bouncier, but I don’t like how narrow and tall and cushy they are. Still, they got the job done, and I’ll keep wearing them for my faster workouts and races until I someday get some lighter, more responsive racing shoes.

My sister’s knee injury persisted and she decided not to run the 50k she had been training for, but they let her transfer 50% of her registration fee to me, so I ran the Aravaipa McDowell Mountain Frenzy 25K in Arizona on December 1 (the 50K was more than I felt ready for). I just barely reached my goal of finishing in the top 10 at that race.

My plan for the near future is to focus on the 5K. Now that I’m a professional runner, I feel like I should be able to run one of those in under 20:00 (my current PR is 20:05 from 10 years ago). So my goal is to break 20 before the end of the year. I recently discovered there is a Parkrun near me, so that should help!

My next organized race is a 5K in January, which I intend to prepare for by following a plan in Faster Road Racing by Pfitzinger and Latter (though between my 25K and cold weather I’ve done a poor job of following the plan so far).

Other race reports

Kate Avery of Kate Runs Colorado ran the Broomfield Trails Marathon the day after she ran the Rim Rock Marathon on the other side of the mountains! Her race report: “Double Marathons – Rim Rock & Broomfield Trails Marathons”

Race Report: Louisville Trail Half Marathon 2018

2018-10-17T01:50:57Z

Race background and goals

I’m training for a local marathon on November 4, but having made significant improvements during my recent training means I’m more unsure than ever as to how I should pace myself. The only races I’ve done recently are a downhill 10k (40:15), and a 17.1-mile mountain trail race (3:20), both of which are too atypical to provide me much feedback about my marathon pace.

So I decided, rather last minute, to sign up for a local half marathon which was exactly 4 weeks out from my marathon: the 6th Annual Louisville Trail Half Marathon (October 7, 2018). The name is a bit misleading because it is not a mountain trail race but is run on a nice smooth packed-gravel suburban multi-use path (which I regularly run on during my long runs). It is mostly flat with only one short steep climb (~40 ft) to speak of which it goes over twice (at mile 5.5 and mile 12). The hill doesn’t even really stand out on the elevation profile:

Elevation profile

I’ve been running my tempo runs at about 4:15/km (6:50/mile) and my marathon pace long runs at around 4:45/km (7:38/mile). Actually many of my recent “marathon” pace kilometers have ended up being closer to 4:30 (7:14/mile) which I’m almost sure is too fast, but gave me confidence that I could run a half in 1:34:00. So I set that as my goal going into this race (although I hoped I would be able to go a bit faster, of course). My plan was to stick to 4:30/km until going over the hill at 9km, speeding up for the gradual downhill, then trying to maintain on the gradual uphill on the way back.

I did my first (and maybe only) 20-mile run of my marathon training cycle on the Tuesday before the race, but then did a mini-taper the rest of the week so my legs were still somewhat fresh.

Race

The course consists of two out-and-back segments. From the start we ran west about 2 miles to a small pond, around the pond, then back past the start line (at about mile 4.5). We then continued east, up and down the hill for the first time, out to the turn-around point just before mile 9, then back to finish just after going over the hill the second time.

Pre-race and a patriotic start

With an 8am race start time my mom volunteered to drive me to near the start line so I wouldn’t have to wake up early and jog or cycle the 4 miles to the start. Because she loves me.

The weather was cool (about 42F by the time the race started) and overcast — perfect for racing. I found the registration tent with no issues and picked up my bib which I pinned to my shorts. I had opted out of a T-shirt to save a few bucks on registration. I like races that give that option. I warmed up in a light jacket for about 10 minutes around the park where the start line and after-race expo (a few vendor tents occupied by cold-looking attendants) were located, finishing with a few strides. I also brought a backpack with a heavier jacket and some pants because I knew I would get cold after the race.

About 15 minutes to the start I took off my jacket and put it in my backpack — it wasn’t as cold without it as I had feared. I ran with short sleeves and gloves. I didn’t see any bag check so I hid my backpack under a nearby spruce tree and jogged over to the port-o-potties. It was a short line but took for-ev-er. I finally got my turn and then got to the start just minutes before 8am when the race director was describing the course for everyone. The director then announced that we would start just after the national anthem played. Ugh.

The race director finally got his phone plugged in to the PA system. As that ode to Ol' Glory began playing, everyone in front of me in the starting chute turned, their hands over their hearts in accordance with the finest etiquette of automatons, to face a flag that was just behind me.

In 2005 when John Roberts and Samuel Alito were confirmed to the Supreme Court, the late Howard Zinn warned progressive activists not to place too much importance on that institution:

It would be naive to depend on the Supreme Court to defend the rights of poor people, women, people of color, dissenters of all kinds. Those rights only come alive when citizens organize, protest, demonstrate, strike, boycott, rebel, and violate the law in order to uphold justice. (“Howard Zinn: Don’t Despair about the Supreme Court”)

This race morning, the morning after the much-publicized confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh when it might be expected that even the most oblivious Americans could entertain some doubt about their government, this assorted group of recreational runners thought the thing to do was to literally worship the closest American flag. Come to think of it, we all paid $80 to have someone time us running back and forth on a public path, so maybe we are not among the brightest or most independently-thinking cohort of American society. Anyway, that disgraceful display was soon over, and we were off!

Around the pond (start to 4.5 miles)

I intentionally started a few layers back from the starting mat to help prevent myself from going out too quickly (which I’m prone to doing). It didn’t work. I had way more adrenaline than usual thanks to the anthemic start. 4:00/km felt effortless.

But after a few hundred meters I caught up to two guys who had slowed to and were maintaining 4:30/km, my goal for the first bit, so I made myself stay with them. We finished the first kilometer in 4:27. Perfect.

We took a right turn toward the pond we were to run around, and the course began a gentle downhill slope. It was here that the first-place runner passed me going the other direction — already almost a kilometer ahead of me and way in front of even the chase group of runners!

I decided to maintain the same effort we had been running at, which meant speeding up on the down hill and passing my two pacers. I was within 100 meters of a few runners around the pond, but now on the flat and slightly curvy return they were out of sight ahead of me, and I couldn’t hear anyone behind me. I like running alone and fell into a very comfortable rhythm as I passed the start/finish line and headed toward the first climb.

Average pace for this section was 4:20/km (7:14/mile). Already a minute faster than my goal and feeling good.

There (4.5 miles to 9 miles)

Soon after passing the start/finish line and starting off east on the longer out-and-back segment, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. But just when I was sure I was going to be passed, we hit the hill that goes up to Aquarius Trailhead, the highest point of the course. I tried to maintain a consistent effort which meant slowing down a bit on the climb (this would be my slowest kilometer at 4:31), but apparently the runner poised to pass me slowed even more. Even after I slowed again to get some fluid at the aid station at the top of the hill he was several seconds behind.

Near the top of the hill

Despite the cool weather I felt pretty thirsty and I grabbed the electrolyte drink they had in little clear plastic cups at the aid station. I don’t know what it was, but it was sweet and delicious. I wasn’t planning on eating anything during the race, so I was glad the aid stations offered a drink with carbohydrates. There were trash cans right at the aid station, which I guess is good for people who wanted to stop and stand while they drank, but it would have been better to have them 50 meters or so past the station. Utilizing what I assume is a typical technique I tried to keep running as I got about half the contents of the tiny cup in my mouth and the rest on my beard and shorts. I ended up just hanging on to my cup from each aid station and throwing it away at the next one.

The other side of the hill is a perfect grade to run fast down (giving me my fastest kilometer of the race at 3:55), and then at the bottom it stays very gently downhill until the turnaround point just before mile 9.

The other side of the hill

Around a mile out from the turn around point the first-place runner passed me going the other direction. If anything I think he had sped up since the last time I saw him. There was a small group a ways behind him, a few lone runners, and then me! When I turned around I saw there was also a runner not too far behind me. The turn-around point itself was marked by two small signs at the side of the trail. No timing mat. No cone to run around. No flour line that I recall. No course marshal to prevent anyone from overshooting the turnaround. Risky course design. I was actually so unsure that I had turned around at the correct place that I looked back to watch the runner behind me; he turned around at the same place I did.

I maintained an average pace of 4:11/km during this segment. I still felt good, but I was a little worried because that is closer to my traditional 5K pace than half marathon pace (!) so I was worried I was setting myself up to hit a painful wall during the slightly-uphill return trip.

And back again (9 miles to 13.1 miles)

After turning around, the course spends a very straight and boring mile away from the tree-sheltered creek. When I run here in the summer during long training runs, this mile is always hot and thirsty for me. Today there is a slight but chilly head wind. I allow myself to slow from about 4:15/km to 4:20/km.

Typically during my long training runs, which I never run this fast, fatigue sets in around 10 miles, usually beginning with my hips/quads, and suddenly a pace that felt easy starts taking effort to maintain. That is definitely on my mind as kilometers keep going by and I know (though can’t really feel) that the trail gets increasingly steep up to the Aquarius hill.

But sudden fatigue never sets in like I fear. I keep a steady pace and medium effort and pass a few runners. First a woman who seems to be fading (though I think she hung on to finish as the 2nd overall woman), and then a man who looked strong and I expected to stay with me, but he let me go on by. (It turns out he stayed closer than I thought and finished only about a minute after me.)

At the bottom of the hill I looked up and saw the next runner in front of me was already near the top. I thought it was unlikely that I’d ever catch him (the top of the hill is right about at the 12-mile mark), but he stopped at the aid station at the top which allowed me to gain some ground on my way up.

Running up the hill felt surprisingly easy and didn’t slow me down much (finished that km in 4:27), and I again turned it up for the down hill. The guy in front of me was also running hard down, and a I barely gained on him, but when the course flattened out I steadily rolled up to him. By the last half mile we were running shoulder to shoulder. And then with less than 400 meters left I asked myself a question that should probably have occurred to me earlier: the race is almost over, why do you still feel relatively comfortable?

Racing to the finish

So I kicked it to the finish. I turned around and high-fived the guy I passed, who finished 5 seconds behind me (he was in an older age division, so our little race at the end didn’t affect our relative standings). I bent down as someone put a commemorative finishers medal around my neck. I wish races would start allowing people to opt out of medals to save a few bucks during registration.

My official chip time: 1:29:04

Five minutes faster than my goal, and even faster than my secret optimistic fantasies of 90 minutes! I don’t remember what my half marathon PR is, but I’m sure it is at least 10 minute slower than that.

Apparently I failed to stop my watch as I crossed the finish mat so there’s no way to know my exact pace (without downloading the data from my Garmin Forerunner 305 to my computer to analyze like some sort of data scientist nerd). My last two kilometers were close to 4:00/km. My watch actually measured the course a little short so all of my paces were a bit faster than I thought during the race.

Failing to stop my watch at the finish line

Post-race

I retrieved my backpack and was very glad to have my jackets and pants. Even with all my clothes on I was shivering while I waited for the award ceremony. But there was post-race food: bratwurst, yogurt, potato chips, pretzels, and orange juice!

At the awards ceremony I was pleasantly surprised when the race director announced that I had finished as the third overall man!

I went up and got my award. But then the three guys who finished in front of me started saying something about how, mathematically speaking, it was impossible for me to have gotten third. So I gave back my prizes as they re-printed the results. I ended up being demoted from 3rd overall to 1st in my age division, which still came with an awesome little 350ml handheld water bottle as a prize that I think I will actually get a lot of use out of.

This was obviously not the most competitive half marathon ever, but the first place guy ran it in a respectable 72 minutes — almost 15 minutes ahead of second place!

Finally I put my extra clothes back in my backpack and slowly jogged the four miles home.

Afterthoughts

The race was fun and I’m very happy with how I ran: beat my goal by several minutes, negative split, and felt good the whole time. Based on my time, the FiveThirtyEight marathon predictor calculator says I should be able to run a marathon in under 3:15. So at least I have a good idea of what to aim for now.

Jack Daniels recommends taking up to a week after a half marathon before doing another hard workout. I decided to move my next long run (30km with a few race pace kilometers) to the Friday after the race. That went well so I was planning on doing that week’s tempo workout the Sunday after the race. But then it got freezing and snowy so I ended up instead running zero kilometers. Because that’s the kind of discipline and dedication I can be expected to bring to the table during marathon training. Now there’s only one full week of training left, and then taper time! I hope it warms up a little. But not too much.

Other reports

Laura from 50x25 ran this race last year and wrote a report: Race Report: Louisville Trail Half Marathon

Race Report: Imogene Pass Run 2018

2018-09-28T17:34:16Z

Race Information

I ran (slash hiked) the 45th annual Imogene Pass Run on September 8, 2018.

The Imogene Pass Run (IPR) is a 17.1 mile point-to-point mountain race within the western San Juan mountains of Colorado, run along a route which connects the towns of Ouray (7810 ft.) and Telluride (8750 ft.) by way of 13,114 foot Imogene Pass.

The joke is that it is a trail run “with only one hill” because the course elevation profile looks like this:

That’s over 5,000 feet of climbing in the first 10 miles (~10% average grade; see the course on Trail Run Project).

Although it is only 17.1 miles long, a finish time of under 3 hours is considered very good. In fact, the Imogene finish time for most runners is said to be close to their marathon time. But someone who excels at uphill and/or downhill running can finish the run significantly faster than a street marathon.

The course record is 2:05:56 set in 1993 by Matt Carpenter (of Pikes Peak Marathon fame). Carpenter has won the race several times, usually with a time under 2h10m, but when he isn’t participating the finishing time is usually around 2h15m. From what I can tell by looking at the historical data, only one person has even come within 5 minutes of his record.

I found a salty old rant circa 1999 on Carpenter’s website complaining about the lack of competition at Imogene. Apparently for one year, 1998, the run was part of an international trail running series and gave cash prizes to the top finishers. After that year, the race organizers withdrew from the circuit, irresponsibly in Carpenter’s opinion, so that local runners could continue to place at the top. In addition to Caprenter’s complaints, his page provides access to his excellent course description. As he mentions, the uphill portion of the race is “open” meaning runners can take whichever route they think will be fastest to the top. To give an indication of my mental state while running, I don’t remember any of the forks or possible shortcuts. Or many of the other landmarks. I guess I just followed whoever was immediately in front of me most of the time.

Training and Logistics

One of the biggest challenges of trail races is just getting to them. That is especially true for someone with no money, no car, and no driver’s license. And that is even more true of the Imogene Pass Run where registration opens at 6:00am months before the race starts and usually fills up within 30 minutes.

Luckily I know some very generous people. My sister and her boyfriend helped me pay for the registration and arranged for us to stay at a house in Ouray the night before the race. In total there were four of us who registered: my sister, her boyfriend, our friend R, and me. My dad had a truck for the summer and volunteered to help us get to the start line, and also signed up to help out at the finish line (though it turned out they didn’t need him on race day so he got to hang out in Telluride waiting for us to finish.)

Once a week in the months before the race my dad would pick me up in his truck and we would drive to a trail to run. That routine certainly helped prepare me for the race as it allowed me to spend some time running up and down steep terrain which I would have otherwise had no access to. But none of the trails we had easy access to were over 8,000 ft of elevation — which is where the Imogene Pass Run starts. But my main goal this training cycle is a November road marathon, and I’m running more consistently than I ever have in preparation for that (averaging over 50 miles per week, which is high for me), so other than the weekly trail runs and a small taper the week of the race, I didn’t train specifically for the Imogene.

The day before the race my dad, R., and I drove the six hours from Denver to Ouray where we met my sister and her boyfriend at the packet pickup location. We got our bibs, shirts, socks (yay!), and some garlic butter toast. Before bed the other three runners were all busy stretching and taping up various injuries with Kinesio tape. I rarely stretch and have never tried KT tape, but it was entertaining to watch as the living room in our Airbnb was filled with the sound of multiple instructional youtube videos simultaneously trying to unlock the secrets of the stretchy tape.

Race Day

Goals

I didn’t know what to expect going into the race. Judging by the elevation profile I thought I’d be able to run the first 4 or 5 miles and have to walk most of miles 9 and 10. My intuition told me I should be able to make it to the summit of the pass in about 2h30m, and then I was confident I could make it the last 7 miles down in under an hour. So 3h30m was my best-guess at a goal time.

My secondary goal was not to fall, especially on the steep down hill over loose rocks. I fell on a training run a few weeks earlier and cut the back of my head open on a tree stump (it wasn’t bad, but could have been). I ran a 50K with my sister a few years ago where I managed to fall twice in the first two miles (once going up hill, once on a down hill).

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	3:30:00	Yes
B	Don’t fall	Yes

Goal

Description

Completed?

3:30:00

Yes

Don’t fall

Yes

Start to Lower Camp Bird aid station (mile 5)

I was up at 6am, coffee and toast and some fig newtons. We all made it to the start at 7am. Beautiful weather. Some years there is blizzard conditions at the summit. This year it was clear all day; a bit chilly in the shade but not too hot in the sun. The race started at 7:30am. Smooth sailing so far.

I decided to wear short sleeves and bring no jacket. But despite the good weather, I did wear cotton gloves the entire time so I could catch myself more confidently if I fell.

There are aid stations every 2-3 miles along the course, but I decided to carry my hand-held water bottle (16oz?) anyway. Carrying water on runs is a newish thing for me, but I’ve really gotten into the habit of drinking whenever I feel like it. And when I run uphill I feel like it often. I also put two fig newtons and a little baggie of my sister’s homemade molasses-based running goo in my shorts pockets.

Apparently for the first time ever the race started in a different direction to avoid traffic before connecting with the jeep road that goes up to Imogene pass, but as first-time runners we didn’t know the difference.

R. and my sister’s boyfriend started up at the front and I never saw them once the race started. I started back with my sister, and we stayed near each other for the first 2 miles or so.

I tried to keep what felt like an easy effort during the first uphills. I was surprised (from looking at the elevation profile) how many downhill sections there were in the first 4 miles and tried to take advantage of them by staying relaxed and letting my cadence speed up to go with the flow of gravity. I knew soon enough the downhill would disappear completely (before returning with a vengeance on the other side of the summit.)

Before the race I imagined myself spending a minute or so to eat and drink at each of the aid stations to let my legs recover and make sure I kept my nutrition intake up. But when we got to Lower Camp Bird aid station at about mile 5 and 9,800' (the first station with food), everyone around me flew through in a few seconds with many people not taking anything at all. I got caught up in the peer pressure and only took an orange slice here (and from most subsequent stations) before immediately starting off again.

Lower Camp Bird to Upper Camp Bird aid station (mile 7.6)

The 2.5 miles from Lower Camp Bird to Upper Camp Bird include very little downhill and several steep uphill sections. One thing I wish I had practiced in training is walking at the steepest parts of hills, and then running again when it levels out a bit. My instinct is to run as far as I can, and then walk; but I’m sure that is less efficient and leaves me unlikely to ever start running again even when the trail levels out.

I followed the lead of the runners immediately in front of me and fell into a decent rhythm of walking the steepest part of each hill and then jogging until it got steep again. At times I felt like we were wasting precious runnable meters by walking. The last two miles to the summit would be practically un-runnable, so shouldn’t we run now while we have a chance? I would be glad later that I didn’t listen to myself.

Upper Camp Bird came sooner than I expected (mile 7.6 and 11,200'). About 1h30m by my watch. I had looked at last year’s results online and noticed that most people around my goal time made it from Upper Camp Bird to the summit in about 50 minutes, so I was possibly ahead of 3:30 time.

I got my water bottle filled up with Tailwind, the electrolyte drink, which I’ve never tried before. I also got a couple pretzels and an orange slice. Then it was right back out, across a stream over two boards, and to the steepest section until the summit.

Upper Camp Bird to Imogene Pass Summit (mile 10.0)

I jogged, I think, from Upper Camp Bird to the mile 8 sign. Then, like everyone I could see in front of me, I walked. Sometimes I stopped to breathe. Pausing briefly to look back through the clear air down the switch backs to see how high we had climbed from Upper Camp was invigorating. I got passed at least once during these slow miles, but for the most part we all just walked single-file trying to keep moving. Another thing I wish I had practiced more during training: hiking at altitude. Only two of my training runs were above 6,000', and only one above 10,000'.

Finally we took a sharp right on the last switch back to the high point on the course before jogging the 100 meters down to the pass (10 miles, 13,114'). My watch read 2h20m. Ahead of schedule! If I could find a rhythm running down, and not fall, I thought a 3:15 finish was realistic.

I pride myself on being able to eat anything while running, but for some reason the Tailwind in my water bottle tasted too rich to me; I sipped it a few times on the way up, but it was not quenching my thirst and my stomach did not seem too happy about it. I carried almost 16oz of it 2,000 vertical feet and then poured half of it out at the summit and had it replaced by water. The 50/50 dilution was much easier to drink.

I also got a cup of the famed Imogene Pass Run summit chicken soup broth. Eager to get jogging down past the steepest part of the descent, I drank it quickly. Too quickly. I felt it sloshing in my stomach for the next two miles.

The Descent: Summit to Finish Line (mile 17.1)

Me beginning the descent from the summit

The descent was slower than I expected, and it wasn’t just the soup. My worries about not giving enough on the uphill were unfounded; my legs were tired. I did not trust them to keep up with my body on the descent. So I braked myself down the first three miles.

The 2013 race was won by Jason Wolfe of Flagstaff, AZ. On his descent he was being chased closely by the previous year’s winner (Daniel Kraft):

No matter how hard I pushed down the technical, washed-out mountain side, Daniel was right there. Finally with about 3miles remaining, I realized that I had a few min lead.. and I was dropping 4:50min/mile. I quickly thought "I am gonna win!". At that point, my right toe caught a rock.. and CRASH!.. I was on the ground cramping… and bleading.

He got back up and ran to the finish line — where he was promptly taken to the ER for stitches. Jason’s account of the race is on his weblog, along with a photograph of his bleeding knee: “October 6, 2013 - Imogene Pass Run ; UROC 100k ; Next Up”

At mile 13 my stomach was feeling good and the road was becoming less steep. I was sure I could now lock in to a faster pace until the finish. Instead, my legs turned heavy and slowed down.

The most runnable part of the descent and I was walking. I realized I had done a poor job at nutrition management during the entire run, and my legs probably wanted more than orange slices and Tailwind. I ate both my fig newtons and my goo baggie, drank some water, got passed by a couple people as I walked for a minute, and then started up again.

This time my legs responded and I managed to keep to about 8:00/mile pace and soon could see the rooftops of Telluride. Actually my GPS watch wasn’t handling the elevation change well and had under-estimated how far I’d run, so my pace was a little bit faster than I thought. As another consequence, the finish line appeared about a mile sooner than I expected. I didn’t mind.

Official time: 3:20:05

Post Race

We walked around Telluride for a bit, rode the gondola, then went to the award ceremony.

R not only placed in the top 20 overall, but took 2nd in his divison. My sister’s boyfriend finished in under 3 hours and was also awarded 2nd place in his division. My sister didn’t get top-3, but she also placed toward the top of her division. I barely made it to the top 30% of mine, but I’m quite happy with my time. 3h20m is my goal time for my marathon in November, so I’m hoping the adage about Imogene being an indicator of marathon fitness holds true!

A few days after the race I could walk and run mostly normally again, and I’m fully back into my marathon training plan.

Other Reports

The seventh place finisher, Guy Alton, wrote about his race: Race Report: Imogene Pass Run - 2018
“Durango’s Dakota Jones, Maggie Yount win Imogene Pass run”, The Durango Herald, 9 September 2018.

Other years

I ran again in both 2019 and 2022. I wrote a report for my 2022 run (with a new PR!)
Russ Barber provides a nice account of his 2008 race. He also entered in 2006, but the pass so snowy that year that race officials decided not to run the full course (see “Imogene endurance run takes a powder”).
ilanarama wrote a detailed report, including photos (and more photos), of her 2008 run on her journal: Imogene Pass Run: the most fun I’ve ever had while wanting to throw up! She has run it several time since then:
- 2009: the girl went over the mountain, to see what she could see
- Imogene Pass Run 2010
- Imogene Pass Run 2012: fourth time’s the charm (big PR!)
- In 2014 it was a struggle to barely break 4h: over the mountain again **
Ultrarunner Timmy Parr has written concise reports of his Imogene runs over the years:
- Imogene Pass Run 2009 (first place! — he also won the previous year, but I don’t see a race report for it)
- At the Imogene Pass Run 2014 he got passed by Kalib Wikinson on the downhill and finished 3rd.
- Imogene Pass Run 2015: another fist place finish!
- In 2016: Imogene Pass Run: 4th Victory!
- Imogene Pass Run 2017: 2nd Place
- In 2019 he only ran an hour and twelve minutes faster than I did that year to win another first place: Imogene Pass Run & Listening to your body!
Sarah Lavender Smith wrote a report of her 2009 Imogene Pass Run in two parts (UP and DOWN).
imarunr also ran it in 2009 and posted a brief recap on the letsrun forums.
Ed Mahoney wrote reports of both his 2010 run and his slightly slower 2012 run.
Ben Kadlec wrote about his 6th place finish at the 2011 Imogene Pass Run.
Ginna Ellis won her age group in 2013, despite having lost consciousness during a half marathon the previous weekend (?!).
Andrew Todd caught a brook trout on his way up to the pass during the 2014 race (and still finished in 4:08).
Jessie Benson’s 2015 race report contains several photos from along the course.
Matt Ozanic wrote a report of his 2016 run. He ran the whole thing while carrying a 3’x5' American flag (for some reason).
Bernie Boettcher wrote about beating his 4-hour goal at the 2017 Imogene for Trail Runner Magazine.
Joe Azze ran the 2021 Imogene Pass Run as his very first race!

Race Report: Evergreen Town Run 10K

2018-08-07T17:57:27Z

Race information

What? Evergreen Town Race 10K
When? August 5, 2018
How far? 10K
Website? http://www.evergreentownrace.org/

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	< 43:05 (PR)	Yes
B	< 43:45 (BolderBoulder 2018)	Yes

Goal

Description

Completed?

< 43:05 (PR)

Yes

< 43:45 (BolderBoulder 2018)

Yes

Splits

Kilometer	Time
1	3:44
2	4:05
3	4:08
4	4:05
5	3:59
6	4:01
7	4:09
8	3:58
9	4:01
10	4:04

My official gun time was 40:15, and I started a bit back from the start line (there was no timing mat at the start). I clocked myself at 40:11.

Background

I’ve been an inconsistent hobby jogger most of my life. Most years during Spring I will train a bit (~20 miles per week) for a local 10K (the BolderBoulder). This year I ran one of my faster times (43:45; my PR is 43:05) and then decided to keep running and do a proper marathon training cycle based on Jack Daniels' Plan A.

I’m 8 weeks into that training program (my goal marathon is in early November), and I’m already consistently running more miles than I have ever before, even while training for marathons in the past. To check my progress I signed up to run the Evergreen Town Race 10K with my dad and a friend of ours. I had an interval workout schedule for the weekend which I replaced with the race, but otherwise I didn’t reduce my mileage or taper in preparation for the race.

It is a downhill course that starts at 7,692' and descends over 500' (map). Runners are bused up to the start line in school buses, and then run down to the finish.

My goal was to take advantage of my recent training and the downhill to set a new 10K PR, or at least to beat my BolderBoulder time from earlier this year.

Race

I planned to go out at 4:18/KM (43:00) pace, and then speed up if I was feeling good on the downhills. I’m so terrible at estimating my pace at the beginning of a race. I looked at my GPS watch after the first ~30 seconds and it said I was going 4:20/KM, so I sped up. We hit the first down hill and I tried to let my legs go as fast as they wanted with gravity. When I looked at my watch again I realized I was going way faster than I had planned.

But when I hit the second km at 4:04 and felt very comfortable I decided to keep that level of effort up. Worst case, I thought, was that I’d have to slow down for the last few kilometers but should still be well under my goal time.

As the kilometers went by I kept feeling comfortable; this is probably the first time during a 10K race that at the 5K mark I was surprised when I looked at my watch to see that I was going faster than I felt like I was going. At first I was nervous that by keeping up a pace so much faster than my goal, even with the downhill course, that I’d crash-and-burn. But I just kept telling myself to finish the current kilometer at the ~4:00/km pace effort and then I could slow down if I needed to — but I never needed to! Crossed the finish line at 40:15 (gun time). New PR (even if downhill)! The overall effort felt much easier than the 43:45 BolderBoulder I ran earlier this year.

What’s next?

The downhill no doubt was very helpful during this race, but it gave me confidence that I CAN break 40:00 on a flat 10K in the not-too-distant future (and also that I can break 20:00 5K which I’ve never done).

My next race is the Imogene Pass Run, a 17 mile mountain race that starts at 7,810' but then CLIMBS over 5,000' during the first ten miles to Imogene Pass before dropping back down (elevation profile). So that should be interesting.