Thursday, November 17
Heavy Bag
The other night, Ella put her socks on her hands and set up a pillow from the couch to work on her boxing. She only spent about 30 seconds working the heavy bag before moving on to some other activity.
Tuesday, November 15
Royal Wreath
Here's Ella's most sophisticated hairstyle: the Royal Wreath. She wears this to church nearly every Sunday and 100% of the credit goes to her. (And not her parents.)
Sunday, November 13
Fall at Dawn
The absolute, hands down, best time to be outside is the moments just before and just after dawn. Now, don't misunderstand me. Before dawn is one of the worst times to wake up and get out of bed. But if you manage to do it, it's often worth it.
One of the best things about running is that it gets me outside, sometimes even at this magical hour. And even better, when the sun is coming up later in the fall, and the leaves are changing color, it is fabulous. Most days I run through a wooded area on a dirt path and when the leaves are changing color, its magical.
I am not a photographer. I don't find it an interesting hobby. I don't often take pictures, and I don't own a decent camera. But fall leaves at dawn, when you're underneath them, and the light comes in at a low angle so that every tree for as far as you can see if back lit is breath taking. Its pretty much the only time I ever wish that I could take a good photograph.
The leaves are falling rapidly by now, at least, they are at my house. But here's a picture I took, with my crummy phone, not at dawn, which does a terrible job of capturing how wonderful these woods can look. But I like it anyway.
One of the best things about running is that it gets me outside, sometimes even at this magical hour. And even better, when the sun is coming up later in the fall, and the leaves are changing color, it is fabulous. Most days I run through a wooded area on a dirt path and when the leaves are changing color, its magical.
I am not a photographer. I don't find it an interesting hobby. I don't often take pictures, and I don't own a decent camera. But fall leaves at dawn, when you're underneath them, and the light comes in at a low angle so that every tree for as far as you can see if back lit is breath taking. Its pretty much the only time I ever wish that I could take a good photograph.
The leaves are falling rapidly by now, at least, they are at my house. But here's a picture I took, with my crummy phone, not at dawn, which does a terrible job of capturing how wonderful these woods can look. But I like it anyway.
Saturday, November 12
The Bomfer Non
Friday, November 11
Indianapolis Monumental Marathon Report
I say that for someone who runs marathons (totally pluralized that now that I've run two), I've done a pretty awesome job of not prattling on endlessly about it in the digital world. I'll try to be brief here, as well, and I promise not to use a single bar graph, regression or extrapolation.
I ran the "Monumental Marathon" in Indianapolis on November 5th. I was talked into signing up for this race sometime in the spring by a friend. I'm still undecided about whether or not we're still on speaking terms.
I've run one previous marathon, the 2010 St. George Marathon (also talked into that one by a friend) which I completed off of 365 miles of training over about 5 months. Prior to those 5 months of training I wasn't running at all. I run a bit more than that these days. In the 5 months before this marathon, I put in 708 miles, and in the previous 12 months I had run 1,329 miles. (wouldn't all these numbers look nice in a bar graph?) This is all to say that I was looking for a significant improvement on my person best of 4 hours, 10 minutes (that's 9:33 per mile). A nice ballpark number that wasn't out of the question was to shave off an even hour and do it in 3:10 (7:15/mile) which is also the time I would need to hit to qualify for the 2018 Boston Marathon (registration for the 2017 race, which is in April, is already closed). This was an ambitious goal to say the least. Most people never qualify for Boston, let alone on their second marathon, and no one ever sets PRs by an hour. But, the running I've done to this point, and two recent half marathons pointed to this as a somewhat reasonable goal. (And then two days before the race fivethirtyeight published their marathon time predictor which said I would run a 3:18. I was not pleased.)
Anyway (and at this point, we all recognize that my earlier pledge to keep this brief is totally going out the window) we headed down to Indy on Friday afternoon. We left Julia and Ella with some friends, and drove down with my running buddy and his wife. We got our stuff, had dinner and checked into our respective hotels to try and sleep. Sleep never goes very well before a race, and being in a strange bed didn't help. I slept well until about 3:30, and after that I was up every 20 minutes the rest of the night. I finally got up about 6:00 so I could have my oatmeal and banana breakfast. Everyone else in the hotel lobby was already wearing all their race gear, I was in my pjs. I wonder if they were looking at us confused as to why we were the only group of people that didn't look like anyone was running a race.
We walked the 0.7 miles to the starting line, which I counted as my warmup. It was about 40 degrees, clear and calm - perfect running weather. The marathon had 4,000 runners and the half marathon another 10,000 and we all started together. I felt special to be allowed in the very first corral, though they didn't police them very tightly and just about anyone could get in. After a shaky national anthem, we were off.
Even being close to the start, with 14,000 runners the race was pretty congested at the beginning. We were taking up all four lanes of the road and it took nearly a mile for everyone to get up to speed. (Are there people out there that get a thrill out of being passed by hundreds of people in the first mile of a race? Is that why they always line up so close to the start? Please folks, if you're not confident of where to line up, stay out of the front third of the pack. And remember at a race like Indy, that means there should be five thousand people in front of you.) I ran with Trent for the first half mile or so, until the 3:10 pace group finally caught up to us and I took off with them.
The half and full marathon stay together for the first 7-ish miles, and the race stayed pretty crowded for the first 4 or 5. I tried to keep as close to the pacer as possible. He did a pretty solid job, and I even got to hold the pace flag for a couple of miles! (I'm super cool.) When the half marathon peeled off, I expected to see our group of 30-ish runners diminish substantially, but apparently nearly everyone with us was doing the full. The 10k split came in at 44:45 (7:13/mile) and I was in 364th place at that point.
The first half of the marathon really felt like just another Saturday morning run. I guess that means I was reasonably well prepared, but at the same time, I was a little disappointed that I wasn't more excited for the race. I got a little burned out in training in September and October and was perhaps over-prepared mentally for how not fun the race was going to be. At the same time, it was flying by as we passed mile marker after mile marker. The half way split was at 1:34:38 (7:14/mil, 365th place).
The course was reasonably nice. The roads were, at times, in need of repair. The volunteers did a pretty good job with water and Gatorade, and I ate some of the fruit snacks for runners that I was carrying. I've never really figured out calorie intake for long runs. While my first goal was to finish in 3:10, in order to actually get in to the Boston Marathon, you have to beat your qualifying time by a few minutes - there are just too many people who qualify to get them all in, so they take the fastest first. So, to actually get in to Boston, I would need to run roughly a 3:07:30 marathon. As I was with the 3:10 pace group, the only way that was going to happen is if I felt good enough to leave them behind a half dozen miles or more before the finish line to make up that extra time. I didn't really expect that to happen, but I had surprised myself in my previous races, so it was possible. At Mile 16, I was feeling good, and thinking that going off the front of the group might be a possibility. That's the last time I felt that way. At the 30k split (30k = 18.6 miles; a marathon is 42.2k) I was at 2:14:53 (7:15/mile, 338th place).
Somewhere around mile 13 is where running stops being fun, in my opinion, and somewhere around mile 19 is where it becomes stupid. That's where feet start hurting, legs start hurting and energy levels start falling. By Mile 19 I knew I wouldn't be making any heroic dashes off the front of the pack - I'd be lucky to hold on to the pacer. We were running on the side of a significantly crowned road and it was making my left quad hurt. My stomach started to reject the notion of eating or drinking anything. In short, marathons aren't fun. At Mile 22 the pace group rudely left me behind. At Mile 23 they were only 10 seconds ahead of me, but I had nothing left to make up that distance - from there the race became a solitary event for me. I had focused up to that point on staying very close to our pace leader, and by the time they left me behind, I noticed that the group had fallen to only a handful of members. The last time I remember looking around was around mile 19, and I thought there were still 15 of us then. Apparently I wasn't the only one suffering.
At Mile 23 we rejoined with the half marathoners, but these were people who were finishing in roughly 3 hours - the 13:45/mile folks. The race was very good about marking off separate lanes so the marathoners wouldn't get caught up in the slower half marathon traffic. But I was fading quickly. I think at Mile 24 I could still see the 3:10 pacer up ahead, but that gap was growing. At Mile 25 I took my first walking break - I knew I wasn't going to hit 3:10, and my drive to squeeze out every last second had failed. I was losing time, and I didn't care. I still kept up a decent pace walking and took off running again. I took another walking break in the last mile. I hoped Trent wouldn't catch me. I checked by watch and decided that at least I would make it under 3:15. And I wanted to make sure Shannon would see me running toward the finish line.
I finished in 3:14:25. 7:26/mile. 353rd place out of 4175. 312/2412 among men. 74 out of 327 in my age group. Personal best by 55 minutes 35 seconds.
It's now five days later. My legs have basically stopped hurting and I may even try running tomorrow. Through the whole process, I've had a strange relationship with this marathon. I've spent over 150 hours running this year; that's only counting the actual time I am actively running down the street. I ran a freaking marathon. But I was less excited for and excited by this race than any other race I've done in years. It's like I was over prepared for how tough it was going to be. Even the run itself didn't feel as fun as I'd hoped. It wasn't a euphoric "look at me, I'm running a marathon". It felt more like something I was just doing because that's what I was supposed to go and do. I'm glad that I set a PR, and glad that I have a more than respectable time to my name. I'm only 4 and a half minutes from a significant milestone of qualifying for Boston, though I'm about 7 minutes from actually getting to run in Boston. But I don't have any plans to run another marathon. But I also know that's what a lot of marathon runners say right after they've run one. I guess we'll just have to see. In the mean time, there's a 4 mile race on Thanksgiving morning that I can do, if I don't have to work overnight the night before . . . .
I ran the "Monumental Marathon" in Indianapolis on November 5th. I was talked into signing up for this race sometime in the spring by a friend. I'm still undecided about whether or not we're still on speaking terms.
I've run one previous marathon, the 2010 St. George Marathon (also talked into that one by a friend) which I completed off of 365 miles of training over about 5 months. Prior to those 5 months of training I wasn't running at all. I run a bit more than that these days. In the 5 months before this marathon, I put in 708 miles, and in the previous 12 months I had run 1,329 miles. (wouldn't all these numbers look nice in a bar graph?) This is all to say that I was looking for a significant improvement on my person best of 4 hours, 10 minutes (that's 9:33 per mile). A nice ballpark number that wasn't out of the question was to shave off an even hour and do it in 3:10 (7:15/mile) which is also the time I would need to hit to qualify for the 2018 Boston Marathon (registration for the 2017 race, which is in April, is already closed). This was an ambitious goal to say the least. Most people never qualify for Boston, let alone on their second marathon, and no one ever sets PRs by an hour. But, the running I've done to this point, and two recent half marathons pointed to this as a somewhat reasonable goal. (And then two days before the race fivethirtyeight published their marathon time predictor which said I would run a 3:18. I was not pleased.)
Anyway (and at this point, we all recognize that my earlier pledge to keep this brief is totally going out the window) we headed down to Indy on Friday afternoon. We left Julia and Ella with some friends, and drove down with my running buddy and his wife. We got our stuff, had dinner and checked into our respective hotels to try and sleep. Sleep never goes very well before a race, and being in a strange bed didn't help. I slept well until about 3:30, and after that I was up every 20 minutes the rest of the night. I finally got up about 6:00 so I could have my oatmeal and banana breakfast. Everyone else in the hotel lobby was already wearing all their race gear, I was in my pjs. I wonder if they were looking at us confused as to why we were the only group of people that didn't look like anyone was running a race.
We walked the 0.7 miles to the starting line, which I counted as my warmup. It was about 40 degrees, clear and calm - perfect running weather. The marathon had 4,000 runners and the half marathon another 10,000 and we all started together. I felt special to be allowed in the very first corral, though they didn't police them very tightly and just about anyone could get in. After a shaky national anthem, we were off.
The starting area. Just some of the many people.
Even being close to the start, with 14,000 runners the race was pretty congested at the beginning. We were taking up all four lanes of the road and it took nearly a mile for everyone to get up to speed. (Are there people out there that get a thrill out of being passed by hundreds of people in the first mile of a race? Is that why they always line up so close to the start? Please folks, if you're not confident of where to line up, stay out of the front third of the pack. And remember at a race like Indy, that means there should be five thousand people in front of you.) I ran with Trent for the first half mile or so, until the 3:10 pace group finally caught up to us and I took off with them.
The half and full marathon stay together for the first 7-ish miles, and the race stayed pretty crowded for the first 4 or 5. I tried to keep as close to the pacer as possible. He did a pretty solid job, and I even got to hold the pace flag for a couple of miles! (I'm super cool.) When the half marathon peeled off, I expected to see our group of 30-ish runners diminish substantially, but apparently nearly everyone with us was doing the full. The 10k split came in at 44:45 (7:13/mile) and I was in 364th place at that point.
The first half of the marathon really felt like just another Saturday morning run. I guess that means I was reasonably well prepared, but at the same time, I was a little disappointed that I wasn't more excited for the race. I got a little burned out in training in September and October and was perhaps over-prepared mentally for how not fun the race was going to be. At the same time, it was flying by as we passed mile marker after mile marker. The half way split was at 1:34:38 (7:14/mil, 365th place).
The course was reasonably nice. The roads were, at times, in need of repair. The volunteers did a pretty good job with water and Gatorade, and I ate some of the fruit snacks for runners that I was carrying. I've never really figured out calorie intake for long runs. While my first goal was to finish in 3:10, in order to actually get in to the Boston Marathon, you have to beat your qualifying time by a few minutes - there are just too many people who qualify to get them all in, so they take the fastest first. So, to actually get in to Boston, I would need to run roughly a 3:07:30 marathon. As I was with the 3:10 pace group, the only way that was going to happen is if I felt good enough to leave them behind a half dozen miles or more before the finish line to make up that extra time. I didn't really expect that to happen, but I had surprised myself in my previous races, so it was possible. At Mile 16, I was feeling good, and thinking that going off the front of the group might be a possibility. That's the last time I felt that way. At the 30k split (30k = 18.6 miles; a marathon is 42.2k) I was at 2:14:53 (7:15/mile, 338th place).
Somewhere around mile 13 is where running stops being fun, in my opinion, and somewhere around mile 19 is where it becomes stupid. That's where feet start hurting, legs start hurting and energy levels start falling. By Mile 19 I knew I wouldn't be making any heroic dashes off the front of the pack - I'd be lucky to hold on to the pacer. We were running on the side of a significantly crowned road and it was making my left quad hurt. My stomach started to reject the notion of eating or drinking anything. In short, marathons aren't fun. At Mile 22 the pace group rudely left me behind. At Mile 23 they were only 10 seconds ahead of me, but I had nothing left to make up that distance - from there the race became a solitary event for me. I had focused up to that point on staying very close to our pace leader, and by the time they left me behind, I noticed that the group had fallen to only a handful of members. The last time I remember looking around was around mile 19, and I thought there were still 15 of us then. Apparently I wasn't the only one suffering.
At Mile 23 we rejoined with the half marathoners, but these were people who were finishing in roughly 3 hours - the 13:45/mile folks. The race was very good about marking off separate lanes so the marathoners wouldn't get caught up in the slower half marathon traffic. But I was fading quickly. I think at Mile 24 I could still see the 3:10 pacer up ahead, but that gap was growing. At Mile 25 I took my first walking break - I knew I wasn't going to hit 3:10, and my drive to squeeze out every last second had failed. I was losing time, and I didn't care. I still kept up a decent pace walking and took off running again. I took another walking break in the last mile. I hoped Trent wouldn't catch me. I checked by watch and decided that at least I would make it under 3:15. And I wanted to make sure Shannon would see me running toward the finish line.
Pretending I was finishing strong.
I finished in 3:14:25. 7:26/mile. 353rd place out of 4175. 312/2412 among men. 74 out of 327 in my age group. Personal best by 55 minutes 35 seconds.
Shirt, bib, hat and medal. The blue sticker on the bib got me into the first corral.
Closeup of the medal, with downtown Indy and the state capitol.
It's now five days later. My legs have basically stopped hurting and I may even try running tomorrow. Through the whole process, I've had a strange relationship with this marathon. I've spent over 150 hours running this year; that's only counting the actual time I am actively running down the street. I ran a freaking marathon. But I was less excited for and excited by this race than any other race I've done in years. It's like I was over prepared for how tough it was going to be. Even the run itself didn't feel as fun as I'd hoped. It wasn't a euphoric "look at me, I'm running a marathon". It felt more like something I was just doing because that's what I was supposed to go and do. I'm glad that I set a PR, and glad that I have a more than respectable time to my name. I'm only 4 and a half minutes from a significant milestone of qualifying for Boston, though I'm about 7 minutes from actually getting to run in Boston. But I don't have any plans to run another marathon. But I also know that's what a lot of marathon runners say right after they've run one. I guess we'll just have to see. In the mean time, there's a 4 mile race on Thanksgiving morning that I can do, if I don't have to work overnight the night before . . . .
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