05/13: Katy Trail 5K

You'd think after nearly three months - maybe more than three months, depending on how long it takes me to actually post this - I'd have found something to say about the Katy Trail 5K, but when you throw in the caveat that I'd like whatever I blather to be at least passingly original, it don't come easy. Lord, it don't come easy. You gotta pay your dues..wait, where was I? Oh yeah, well, I've run this race nine or ten times now...wait a second...ten, according to the official runes, the last ten in a row. I guess they started it in 1999; I think this year's was the twelfth. It doesn't change much from year to year; it's usually warm, humid and crowded, and this year it was warm, humid, and crowded. It's kind of amazing, actually, that so far as I can remember it's never rained on the race or picnic despite May being an opportune month for thunderstorms.

I shot my wad early in this one - my first mile was 7:21 and after that there was jogging and some walking, mixed in with walking and jogging. The course was the same as in recent years - Turtle Creek Boulevard to Blackburn to Cole to Elizabeth to the Katy Trail to the finish - and I walked part of the hill at Blackburn. Which is earlier in the race than usual but I wasn't in peak condition; it's been kind of a lackluster running year thus far, and I've always hated that hill anyway. Well, I think maybe I've done a race or two where I got to run down it and I probably didn't hate it then.

The postrace picnic was massive, as usual, and crowded, also as usual. Finishing earlier to get to the food before the hordes descend should be motivation to train more seriously for this race, but to date this hasn't been the case. Partially because even running as mediocre as I did this year (26:19), I still get down to the grub while there's still elbow room. It's not until I'm making my second and third passes that the crowds are pressing up against my claustrophobic limits. Thank God for that V.I.P. thing - not only does it give me access to better beer than Michelob Ultra, I don't have to stand in line for it, either.

The other thing about this race that changes from year to year are the people I know that I run into. This year I saw one dude from Grapevine and four from Ultimate, although two of the Ultimate people were married -to each other - so they sort of count as one. Except they also had Murphy the dog with them, so he should probably count, too. Another Ultimate dude was Ed from my Winter League team a few years back, which at Ultimate he blames his lack of speed on being more of a long-distance runner than a sprinter but at races he just blames it on being slow, which he is. At least he doesn't try to blame it on Ultimate.

05/01: White Rock'N'Roll Ten-Mile

God, what the hell do I even remember about this race? We had reasonable running weather – 63 degrees and 58% humidity – not that I actually remember that; I just remember how to look these things up. And that the weather wasn’t extremely extreme in either direction; in fact the high and low both matched the May 1 average for Dallas. The course was kind of meandering; normally a length of this distance would involve circling the lake but in this case we started to the north from Winfrey Point, turned up Northcliff Drive and ran around the Peninsula neighborhood a little bit before coming back down Northcliff Drive and continuing north on East Lawther Driver, along the shore of White Rock Lake. We crossed over the north end of the lake on the new shaky bridge (which isn’t that new, except in comparison to the old shaky bridge over the spillway – which is unfortunately open again although it didn’t matter in this race since we never went near it. And it might not have been open then anyway.) and turned north onto West Lawther, which we took to the north side of Mockingbird. We ran along Mockingbird to the east side of the lake, although at this juncture we’re really on the east side of White Rock Creek; the lake is to the south, and –this I actually I remember, most of this I’m augmenting sketchy memories with the course as laid out on www.mapmyrun.com – where some stupid course marshal on a bicycle was kind of in my way at this point as there were two people I was sort of in the process of passing but didn’t really want to pass yet, but the bicycle dork kind of forced my hand. But I digress. Anyway, we came off of Mockingbird and looped down back onto East Lawther Drive, where we continued north for maybe another half mile before we finally turned around and ran back to Winfrey Point, except for when I walked in the last mile. Which wasn’t bad – I didn’t feel particularly trained for the distance but I didn’t walk until the last mile and overall my time was 1:26:45 except those bastards have it as 1:26:46.58 because they’re always screwing me out of a second here or a second there. Or even a fraction of a second; it’s all the same to them. Them in this case being the Dallas Running Club who used to be the Cross Country Club of Dallas until they realized that they didn’t really do much cross-country, well, one race a year but is that really enough to name a club after? I think not and eventually they agreed. Anyway, they put on this race and it’s kind of a big one for them – proceeds go to support the lake, which needs all the help it can get what with the Richardson ISD dumping toxic waste into it, which I’m pretty sure that’s not official Richardson ISD policy but still. So I suppose that’ll drive up the entry fees for next year which isn’t to say that I’m definitely going to do the race again next year. But I probably will.

03/27: Crazy Beaver Trail Race

I took first in my age group at the Crazy Beaver Ten-Mail Trail Race down at Loyd Park in Grand Prairie, which I'm not bragging about it because there's nothing to brag about it - I was the only person in my age group. Besides, as the late, great Dizzy Dean once said, it ain't bragging if it's true. And if you don't like his syntax, well, he had a few choice words about that, too. At any rate, winning my age group just meant showing up, starting the race, and finishing, all without doing anything to get myself disqualified. Piece of cake, really.

Cherry-picking races for hardware is relatively easy around her, at least in the spring and fall when there are numerous races each weekend, and if I had been so inclined, I probably would have chosen this race for that reason. But I wasn’t thinking about collecting Shiny Metal Objects after last week’s marathon; I was thinking a longer run over a softer surface sounded pleasant. And the 5K I originally thought about doing, up in Denton? Turned out that was last weekend. Besides, I didn’t even know they (where in this case they equals the city of Grand Prairie) had trails at Loyd Park – to be honest I forgot they even had a Loyd Park – so I appreciated the chance to check them out without having to pay the ten-dollar entrance fee. Instead, I only had to pay a $50 race fee.

The trails were perfect in their imperfections – they were pleasant to run on but not so awesome that I’d consider fighting my way down 360 after work and paying $10 to do so on a regular basis. What with all the precipitation we’ve had so far this year, particularly the recent maintenance rains like we got Wednesday evening that keeps the ground from drying out, the trails were muddy in a few places and had two spots where you had to quick step through ankle-deep water. Which wasn’t bad, but you had to pass through each spot twice, so it’s only half as unbad as you might otherwise think. Other than that, the trails were very good for running – shaded, wide, soft and flattish, but with enough roll to keep things interesting and personable. I think they’re up there with the Rowlett Creek trails in Garland for the best running trails in the Metroplex.

I’m pretty sure this was the inaugural running of this particular race and the people who seemed to be higher up in the organization – like the race director and his aide-de-camp – were very solicitous of feedback. I talked to the race director for a few minutes after the race – I think everybody talked to the race director for a few minutes after the race – and I meant to tell him to check out the Liart people in northwest Arkansas, as I’m pretty sure that’s the vibe he’s going for. I didn’t get a chance, though; we spent most of the time talking about the Subway store he preordered sandwiches from that was closed when he went to pick them up earlier in the morning. He wasn’t too happy about that but I didn’t think it was a big deal. He had Keebler fudge-striped cookies – who could ask for anything more?

02/06: Tal Morrison 15K

Sometimes you have to challenge yourself. Other times, you inadvertently challenge yourself by, oh say, going out to the Flying Saucer in Addison the night before a 15K (the Dallas Running Club’s Tal Morrison 15K, to be specific), staying out way past your estimated time of departure (10:00pm), and telling yourself it was all going to be okay because you had downshifted to Michelob Ultra from the high-test brews you were drinking earlier.

It was 12:30 by the time I left the Saucer; I was home and asleep by 1:30. And awake by 5:30, thanks to my stupid alarm. I stumbled out of bed even though I really wanted to go back to sleep – not only was I tired as hell, but my head hurt and my stomach was queasy and if I slept some more maybe they’d both feel better when I woke up again. But some of the people who were at the Saucer were also supposed to be at the race, although they were doing the 5K (well, that was their plan, but they wound up bagging anyway) rather than circumnavigating White Rock Lake, and I really needed to get the miles in, so blowing the race off wasn’t an option. Well, it wasn’t an option I spent a lot of time considering, at any rate.

So, I showered and felt a little better, got my stuff together, and headed out. I also took a couple of swigs of Gatorade and they didn’t feel like they were going to make a reappearance, so that was a good sign. Good enough that I stopped by Starbucks for a sixteen-ounce coffee, which I mostly drank while driving out to Winfrey Point, which I reached early enough to get an okay parking spot. The DRC races keep getting bigger and I'm pretty sure people are having to park out in Mesquite and walk in. After registering and stretching and talking to various people, I finally got to run, which presented its own challenges – I don’t think I’ve ever had so much trouble finding a comfortable pace. I spent most of this race speeding up to a point where I’d start to feel ill, then I’d back off and inevitably start to speed up again. This went on pretty much the entire race although by the end the speed at which I’d start to feel ill was noticeably slower than it had been at the start.

Based on previous experience I expected to feel better after running – so long as I was actually able to finish the race, which I did in an acceptable (for being hungover) 1:16:44. In fact, this turned out to be true – my head didn’t hurt nearly as much and while I wasn’t hungry, I felt like hunger, not nausea, was in my immediate future. Assuming I didn’t succumb to hypothermia, first; I worked up a healthy – some would probably say excessive – sweat running around the lake and hanging out a damp t-shirt in 40 degree temperatures wasn’t feeling too comfortable. So I went to my car and changed into warmer duds, went back to Winfrey Point until the hunger pangs started kicking in, then went to Whattaburger.

01/23: Bold In The Cold 15K

My split for the last mile of the the Bold In The Cold 15K was 9:44, which was surprising because usually I can feel myself slowing down; this mile didn't feel any different from the last few despite being over a minute slower. Turned out, I wasn't slowing down - that mile was about 1.14 miles long because we ran a short out-and-back that's actually part of the race organization's (Lake Grapevine Runners and Walkers) 10K course. So my pace was more like 8:30, which would be in line with what I ran over the last three or four miles.

In a perfect world course mistakes would never occur but then again, in a perfect world presidential elections would never be decided by the Supreme Court. When they do happen, it's best to just roll with them if you're a runner, or figure out the discrepancy and get the word out if you're the organizer - which, to their credit, LGRAW did. and I should probably mention that I've run maybe somewhere between ten and fifteen of their races (full disclosure: I'm also a member) and this is the first time that the course was inaccurate. They put on good events, really. Anyway, they did figure out the difference and adjusted the pace in the results - I didn't come up with that .14 figure on my own.

I don't think course accuracy for Bold In The Cold is as crucial as it is for other races - although of course you want as accurate a course as possible - because for most people it's not going to be a PR waiting to happen. First of all, it's in January, obviously, and most people (for example, me) are just starting to resume training. It's also run over a hilly course, especially compared to White Rock Lake - where most of the other area 15Ks are held.

I didn’t hang around for long after the race - there was ultimate to be played that afternoon and I needed to prepare accordingly - so I don’t know if much bitching about the course ensued or if people were even aware of the extra distance. I found out the next day, via the LGRAW Forum. I didn’t see an angry mob surrounding the race director with torches and pitchforks, saying ‘you made us run 9.46 miles, you lousy so-and-so,’ but maybe that happened later. Most runners aren’t going to care too much, so long as for the most part the event went smoothly, but there will be some who get bent out of shape. I ran the Ft. Worth Turkey Trot in 2000; the course wound up being a half mile or so long because we missed an out-and-back down a dead end that we were supposed to run. I finished just ahead of some old guy who was pissed - he paid all this money, the least they could do was have an accurate course! I couldn't relate at all. I wasn't in very good shape at the time and I didn't miss the extra half mile at all; if they had cut off another half mile or so, I'd have been even happier.

12/13: White Rock Marathon

It was a good morning to run a marathon and an even better one for a half-marathon but I didn't have the option of switching races. Well, I suppose I did - what would they do, tackle me if I turned on south on Skillman or wherever the hell it was that the courses split? - but I signed up for the stupid marathon so I might as well find out what I was capable of. Sixteen miles, as it turned out, of reasonable running, three more miles of struggling running and then seven miles of run/walk to get me back to the American Airlines Center four hours and twenty minutes after I left.

Running the marathon paid one major dividend - I could justify gorging on a burger, assuming I could identify a burger worth suspending my moratorium on beef. Which really isn't all that much of a moratorium - any reasonable excuse, many weaker than a 26.2-mile run (using the term loosely) through the mean streets of Dallas, throws that rule out the window. The marathoners wearing the beef-promoting t-shirts probably had a subliminal effect on my burger desires as well.

After the race, after washing up (but not showering - bloody nipples!) , I had to choose my poison. I mean burger. Which is when it occurred to me that I don’t have a go-to burger in Dallas. Or anywhere for that matter. After weighing my options, and getting hungrier, I decided to check out the Love Shack on Seventh Street in Fort Worth. When you only eat maybe twelve burgers a year (nor counting burgers eaten at Flips after Wednesday night Ultimate in Grapevine), you don’t want to waste burger opportunities on a Big Mac or Whopper. The Love Shack is run by frou-frou chef Tim Love, and has received excellent reviews, so I went in search of an awesome burger.

I couldn’t find it. The Love Shack, that is; turned out I was looking in the wrong development. But while looking I remembered hearing good things about burgers at the Cock and Bull, in Dallas. It was only about forty miles away and I had the Chargers-Cowboys game on the radio; I had a plan. So I drove to Dallas while listening to the Chargers hold off the Cowboys and blow chances to put the game out of reach.

The Cock and Bull, according to an official-looking sign on the wall, has a maximum occupancy of 49, which it wasn't near to reaching when I got there. I ordered a something something Pale Ale while I looked over the menu. They had a Red Bull Burger, which featured red peppers rather than beef marinated in Red Bull. I found that disappointing. They had a Blue Bull Burger, which came topped with bleu cheese, and a White Bull Burger, which I can't remember how it got its name. I went with the generic Bull Burger, only I added on Swiss cheese, bacon, and mushrooms; it came on a chiabata roll and it was awesome. I mean, really good. I mean, maybe not worth running a marathon for but it easily justified at least eighteen miles. I probably should have eaten two of them to justify the entire race, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. After all, I had just run a marathon.

11/26: Turkey Trot

So last year at the Dallas Turkey Trot they introduced the disposable (or collectible) timing chip; this year they charged five bucks over and above the registration fee if you wanted a bib number that would include one. Essentially, five bucks to be timed and included in the results. Which I wanted, although I’m not exactly sure why - my watch time was going to be reasonably close to my chip time (it looks like they differ by .12 seconds, so I paid five bucks for .12 seconds - if only I could get paid at that rate) and I wasn’t going to be competing for any age-group awards. If I wanted to know where I finished in my age group or overall, I could mentally insert myself into the results easily enough.


The five bucks bothers me more than it should, probably because it identifies the Turkey Trot more as an event - an apolitical run-in - than a race, which is what it was when it began back in 1968. Now, the race duties are an onerous task for which the race officials require additional compensation. Of course, what really bothers me is that by next year I’ll have forgotten all about this until I go to register (unless I do remember, in which case I may do some other race) at which point it’ll be too much hassle not to pay. And the grumbling will begin again.

I should point out that for all I know this isn’t actually a change - that they charged the extra $5 last year and I just didn’t think it was that big a deal. I’m not always as consistent about these things as I’d like to be.


This was my third Turkey Trot which means half of the eight-mile races I’ve run have been Turkey Trots. I don’t remember feeling as hemmed in and bothered by the press of humanity at the start before which may mean I was in a pissy mood for this race, or may be because I wasn’t in good enough shape in the previous races to care if the crowds slowed me down. This year’s race broke down into three stages - a claustrophobic first mile that took about 8;25, four strong miles that I covered in about 29 minutes, and three miles where I was hanging on that took about 23:30. Overall I ran 1:00:55, good enough for 62nd out 299 in my age group, 649 out of 2595 among all men, and 542 out of 4439 overall. I failed to break one hour, which was my high-end goal going in, but I did get my eight-mile PR, which was my more realistic goal. My previous best was 1:02:30, in or around Memphis, Tennessee, in 1996. Or maybe 1997.


It looks like about 7000, out of nearly 35,000, people paid for the timing chips. I’d be interested in knowing how many untimed people finished ahead of me but I guess there’s no way of knowing. Well, there’s probably a video you could watch and count but that would be painful.

11/15: Big D 30K

The Big D races - a 5K and a 30K with a common start and finish - were about to start and I was wondering where the hell all the people were. And how many times I might wander off course if I couldn’t see the person in front of me - there was very little chance of actually getting lost since the course was essentially two laps of White Rock Lake, one counterclockwise and one clockwise, but there were a lot of places where you could take one path or another, and I’d like to take the correct one. Especially if the correct one was the shorter one.


The race was put on by Thruston Racing, who used to be a major player in the Dallas racing scene but have cut back on their schedule in recent years. I’ve run maybe twenty Thruston races over the years but around the time race day registraion for their 5Ks rose to $30, I decided it wasn’t a good value. Which isn’t totally fair on my part - $30 for a no-frills, well-run 5K is overpriced but $50 for a 30K, which is what I paid by registering the day before, is reasonable. For fifty bucks I got an organized event with an accurate course and prompt results, a t-shirt, and postrace refreshments that included soft drinks and beer. In cans, but still. So thirty bucks for a 5K when I most likely have other, less expensive options? I think not. But $50 for a 30K when the number of events longer than a half marathon but shorter than a full is limited, and where what events there are all tend to be priced in the same neighborhood? I can live with that.

I hadn’t run a Thruston race since 2005, and I have never run this one before, but they haven’t changed much although they might have gotten smaller. Or maybe it’s just this one - looking at the results since 2006, this year’s number of finishers (186, 5K and 30K combined) didn’t seem out of line with the previous years’ totals. At any rate, I never had to worry about going off-course - there was always somebody in sight in front of me.


I wound up running my worst race of the fall, partially because I wasn’t trained for the distance and partially because the weather, most notably the humidity, was uncooperative. I planned on running eight-minute miles for as long as I could; I wound up running one eight-minute mile (mile seven, probably because it has some downhill) total. I averaged 8:10s through seven and knew I was basically done. I wound up doing the first 15K in 1:19 and the second in 1:57, with a good amount of walking mixed in after mile eleven. Which doesn’t mean the race was a total waste; I plan on noting the three positives from this experience and then moving on: it’s good to be humbled every once in a while, I did get in about fourteen miles of actual, if not continuous, running, and I spent 3:16 on my feet, which is a good experience for long runs going forward.

Of course, that presumes that I actually do more long runs going forward. I tend to get lazy(-ier) around the holidays.

11/07: Salute America's Heroes 10K

Two lessons learned: The Colony is a hell of a long way from Euless and the American Heroes 10K isn’t worth the drive.

Before the bitchfest begins, I should probably note the two pleasing aspects of this race: the lady who sang the National Anthem, a woman whose husband is serving in Afghanistan, did a really nice job and the trail we ran on down by Lake Lewisville was pleasant. So it’s not like the morning totally sucked.

On the other hand, my problems with the race began virtually from the moment I stepped out of the car. While no single problem was that calamitous in itself, the sum total indicated a decision-making process with an unerring instinct for erring.

There were no race forms available out in front of the registration table so I took one from the registration table and filled it out while I stood in line. Which I had plenty of time to do, along with writing the check, and figuring my taxes, and computing pi to 10,000 places, because despite being fourth or fifth in line, it took fifteen minutes before I got to the front. At which point it took maybe forty seconds to get registered so I’m not sure what the hold-up was with the other people. Once I did get registered, I didn’t get a bib number because the had run out of 10K bibs which I’m not sure how that happened given that the race only had 78 finishers.

I did get a timing chip, of a variety I had never seen before - it looked more like a timing badge and we were told it had to be pinned to the right hip. Now this is something I don’t get - the original chip system worked well so you would think that a newcomer would have to work equally well and offer some advantage - be disposable, cost less, whatever. Maybe this badge thing is cheaper and just as reliable but based on what the organizers were saying, I’m thinking it’s less effective than the other systems. They told us that if we wanted our start times recorded, we should line up on the right side of the road, near the chip reader. Which isn’t something I haven’t had to worry about with any of the other systems.

The brochure said the 5K and 10K were supposed to start together at 8:05; somewhere along the line that plan changed and the 10K started ten minutes after the 5K. Which isn’t that big a deal, but doesn’t look good when everything else seems screwed up, plus I was actually pressed for time. The real kicker was the mile markers, which made no sense. According to what they had out there, my splits were one mile in 9:38, one mile in 6:42, 1.1 miles in 6:10, .9 miles in 8:54, one mile in 7:15, and 1.2 miles in 9:45. The upshot is I have no idea how far I ran, but I’m guessing the course was a fifth to a quarter of a mile long and if any of the mile markers were placed correctly, credit random chance.

I was bummed to have to take off immediately after the race because it looked like they had beer. On second, though, if their instincts held true, it was probably sans alcohol.

10/24: D.O. Dash 5K

“I don’t think this girl should be starting this close to the front of the pack - yep, I’m passing her and we’re barely to the timing mat. I hope that kid doesn’t cut me off going around the corner. Screw it, I’ll just cut to the outside and HILL! Why do they always look so much steeper when you’re actually running them? Oh well, try to maintain effort, at least - maybe I should pace off these two girls? Nah, I’d look like Stalker Dude, besides they’re going to slow unless I’m going too fast too early. Okay, turn the corner and no more HILL, this is more manageable. Should I pace off THESE two girls? Guess not. Another corner, another hill. This one isn’t too steep but God, it looks like it goes on forever. I feel like I’m passing too many people but a lot of these guys sped past me in the first quarter-mile; I think they’re toast already. Suckers. Been there, done that, and I’ll probably do it again. I just hope I‘m not doing it right now.. I think I can catch that girl up there, maybe I should pace off her for the rest of this mile. Pace, pace, pass. Then again, maybe not. God, I hope I’m not using up three miles’ worth of energy before the first water stop. Which is right here - I think it’s also the mile marker. 7:24 - I guess that’s okay, what with all the uphill.


“I bet we get some downhill once we turn that corner. Oh yeah - this is living. I wonder if I’ve ever run through here before? I think maybe that Arlington Heights 5K I did a few years back, and probably when I ran the first leg of the Cowtown relay. I wonder what that golf course is. Oh, back to uphill. I think we’ll be going back down once we turn that corner. Yep, called that one. Don’t even think about walking, not yet - I felt worse than this running eight on Monday. I can slow down if I start hurting bad. Water stop already? 6:47 - maybe they set it up in the wrong spot.


“Okay, look at that guy up ahead. Pace off him. Pace, pace - if I’m pacing off him, should he be getting closer? Okay, this dude in the SUV is waiting for you to pass before he pulls out of his driveway. Do him a favor and pick it up some - good God that hurt - and he’s still sitting there. I guess the guy behind me is still pretty close. Or maybe SUV Guy is just spectating in which case he needs to get a life, or cable. I have no idea where I am right now. Damn, I think we come out on 7th downhill from where we started. This is Arch Adams? That’ll take me to 7th and - yep, uphill finish, pretty much. What a bitch. I wonder if I can catch that kid in front of me. My advantage is that my hair is more aerodynamic than his ‘fro. His advantages are that he’s accelerating and I’m decelerating. Probably not going to happen. Damn kid. Damn hill. Okay, turn the corner, back on level ground, push through the finish. 22:25 - best time this year, I think. Nope, forgot about Kentucky. I wonder who’s ass a guy has to kiss to get some Gatorade around here.”

10/03: Bird on the Run Trail Race

It was a dark and stormy night. Actually, it wasn’t night yet - it was a little past three in the afternoon - and it wasn’t that dark, just kind of gray and sporadically drizzling. Suddenly, a shot - or airhorn, more accurately - rang out. Once it did, and this I can say without qualification, we were off running in the inaugural Bird On The Run Approximately But Unfortunately On The Heavy Side Of Four-Mile Trail Race, starting from Bob Jones Park in Southlake and finishing in the Bob Jones Nature Center, which is on Bob Jones Road. I have no idea who Bob Jones is but if I lived in Southlake, I suppose I might. I don’t think it’s the same guy with the university in Greenville, South Carolina.


Not to spoil the suspense or beat my own drum or anything, but I took third in my age group, not that I can say with any certainty that there was a fourth in my age group. Which earned me a clear lucite Christmas ornament, with the race logo and date etched on it. Which was nice, and different. The ornament came in a small bubblewrap sleeve. Which was awesome. I mean, really awesome. I could stay while the rest of the awards were being handed out because hey, I had bubbles to pop. Every time I sat down to write this report, I’d pick up the award and pop some bubbles instead. Now I have no more bubbles to pop, so I guess I’ll finally write a report. Too bad I don’t actually remember anything about the race, except that it rained some but mostly before and after the race - my bubblewrap got wet - but not so much during. Or maybe I was running too hard to notice but that seems unlikely.

I do remember that we finished at the top of a hill. A kind of nasty hill, actually. A nasty hill that we could easily have avoided if the course designer had made it closer to a 5K race. I mentioned that to him and he said, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun for who?”

“Me. I liked watching you idiots struggle up that hill.” Oh well, they say it builds character or something.


Starting and finishing at different locations was kind of a pain in the ass but they had parking at both locations and shuttle buses available. I parked at the start and walked back after the race; it was maybe a half-mile on the trail we had just raced over, and it was drizzling again. Which these days isn’t much of a rarity around here. An added bonus to this race was I learned a new access point to some of the Army Corps of Engineer trails on the south side of Lake Grapevine, since the city of Grapevine has started charging admission to the trails on the north side. Which I don’t mind paying five bucks unless I pay my five bucks and find the parking lot is full and the trails are crowded, which was frequently the case when I’ve run there in the past.

10/03: The Loop 15K

Run for enough years and you'll probably become a weather connoisseur, especially if you race on a regular (i.e., every weekend, at least during the spring and fall) basis. So when a dude whose running career stretches back to when my only running was from the law because of youthful shenanigans told me today was a perfect day for running, I could count on him to know what he was talking about. Because here's the thing - when the announcer dude's wearing shorts and a t-shirt and saying it's a great day to run, he's probably tragically mistaken. It's probably a great day to spectate and the runners are most likely screwed.


The DRC took a step back in terms of crowd control; we were all over the trail a good ten to fifteen minutes before the race began. I feel kind of bad about it now but to be honest, I didn’t even think about it until a day and a half after the race. When we finally did start, we ran north on East Lawther Drive and crossed on Mockingbird over to West Lawther where we ran down the trail. I think we run mostly on the road on the east side partially because it’s flatter and partially because the road has enough sections closed to cars that it’s not like it’s a through street anyway. West Lawther has no closed sections and the trail is probably flatter than the road, and we’re pretty well spread out by that point, so running on the trail is probably better for everyone.

A concrete wall between the spillway and Garland road collapsed in the Great Flood of 2007, so they currently have an extended area around there closed off while they do repairs and enhancements. Because of this, I think, they sent us down the newer trail they built a few years ago rather than sending us up the ramp by the Pump House and across the dam, the way they used to. The construction also altered the tough hill on Garland Road; the sidewalk is closed so we ran in the street there and it seemed easier. It didn’t seem to rise as steeply at the top. I’d like to think that when they redo the sidewalk there, they’ll be able to have it more closely match the rise along the street but I’m not holding my breath.


After that last hill I’m usually gassed and reduced to walking at some point between there and the finish, which from the top of the hill I still have maybe a mile and a half to go. I did feel gassed but I never walked, probably due to the favorable weather, and didn’t even slow down very much. I finished in 1:11:11, a 15K PR by 1:34, which was surprising on the one hand but maybe shouldn’t have been on the other. My longer distance PRs, except for the half, are soft, mostly because when I was almost fast, I’d always jump in the 5K any time the weather was conducive to running fast. This is probably the best weather I’ve ever had for running a 15K.

09/19: Oktoberfest 5K

Turning north on Addison Circle Drive or whatever (okay, Addison Road, it looks like) from Arapaho Road, I must have looked like hell. I felt pretty good considering I had spent the last ten minutes or so running east into the sun on unshaded, baked concrete, but I was running Addison's Oktoberfest 5K and I knew going in what to expect - a mundane course, free postrace beer, and free admission to Oktoberfest (a five-dollar value!) that evening. Which, given that a cadre of friends were running the 5K as well as returning to Oktoberfest at night, was an acceptable trade-off. As I made the turn north, some kid - maybe fourteen years old - said to me, "Almost there, sir; you can make it!" In a very concerned voice. Good to know, although personally I had no doubts that I could make it. I was more than willing for the race to be over by that point but it wasn't yet a necessity. I said, "Or, I could hand my chip to you and you could finish for both of us." He laughed and introduced himself so I ran maybe a half-dozen steps while shaking hand with the unknown teenager. He should be the known teenager given that he introduced himself but to be honest, I wasn't paying attention.


I left my Garmin in an Albuquerque hotel room back in whatever month I ran the Albuquerque Zoo 10K and this is the first time since then that I genuinely missed not having it. The mile markers were at least modestly inaccurate; I thought I ran the first mile faster than 7:39, but then again, I'm still surprised every June when the Yankees pass on me in the MLB draft. I usually project myself to go in the first five rounds; since I've never been drafted in any round in any sport (professionally) ever, I'm guessing there must be some confusion over my college eligibility. But the point - remember the point? - is that while I have my doubts about that 7:39, it's at least within the realm of possibility. The 6:30 second mile and the 8:27 third mile, not so much although that discrepancy could be the result of just one misplaced marker. If the second mile had been 7:20 and the third 7:37, I'd be a little bummed but also a lot less skeptical. Make one glaring screw-up, though, and you cast doubt even on the stuff you may have done correctly.


Eventually the race - whatever distance it may have actually been - ended and eventually we got to the beer tent and eventually we got a beer. And a pretzel. Which is another upside to this event - if you want that traditional runner's grub, they've got it but they also have big, soft pretzels. And a guy dancing on a stage with a bunch of little kids to some weird polka/rap hybrid but we were far enough away to be mostly out of range of that spectacle. If it even existed - it could have been just the beer talking.

08/15: Life Without Limits 5K

I ran this race, I don’t even know what it’s called - Larger than Life 5K, Lust for Life 5K, something like that. Okay - it’s the Life Without Limits 5K (so that's where the Elvis Run went!); I may not have the name of the race sitting on the tip of my tongue but I do know where to look it up. It’s a pretty large race which makes its anonymity strange (until you find out it used to be the Elvis Run), but then again it is the middle of summer and we are in Texas; it’s not like it’s strangled by competition. It is essentially the Katy Trail 5K only in August instead of May, on Saturday instead of Thursday, in the morning instead of the evening, and with much less postrace food. In other words, they basically just have the course in common.

Which isn’t all that surprising as it’s becoming one of the most popular courses in Dallas. It’s the third race I think I’ve run on it and the Butterfly Boogie, which I’ve registered for two or three times but never actually run, also uses it. What with the city of Dallas discouraging use of Winfrey Point for running events, I could see it getting even more use.

I lined up early, right about the time they started pumping the live band, whoever the hell they were, through the speakers near the start, which didn’t initially please me since I had already turned on my mp3 player. Then I realized they were covering “Is Anybody Going To San Antone” by Doug Sahm, and doing a credible job, so I conceded their tunes were at least momentarily better than mine and turned off my player. They played another song after that and then deejayed music returned; the only song I remember hearing before the race started was “I Ran” by A Flock of Haircuts. I mean, Seagulls.

The race started and I turned my tunes back on. Early on, like before we hit Turtle Creek Boulevard proper, I heard Liz Phair start singing “South Dakota” which reminded me of racing in South Dakota a couple of months ago; my Pavlovian response in this race was to run faster than prudence dictated. The first mile is pretty flat anyway, and possibly a slight net downhill; my first split was 7:12 which was good in that I didn’t feel like I was pushing that hard but bad because it’s still August in Dallas and I’m just getting over a cold. There’s probably going to be a bill to be paid.


The second mile has most of the uphill, mostly running up Blackburn to Cole and then again on the anonymous side street up to the Katy Trail. I ran it in 7:49, which I was also pleasantly surprised by, even though I knew it was going to be a struggle to hold that pace to the finish. A struggle I lost - about three-quarters through the third mile a coughing spell hit that slowed me to a walk. My split for that mile was 8:57 and I ran the last tenth in 44 seconds; my total time was 24:43. Which I think is faster than I ran the Katy Trail 5K back in May, so I have that going for me. Which is nice.

06/13: Dadfest 5K

WARNING: This report contains descriptions of intrusive medical indignities, a by-product of the aging process, of a moderately intimate and mildly disturbing nature. In other words, perhaps too much information. But if you can’t blog about your first prostate exam, then why the hell did Al Gore even invent the internet?

Having finished all my usual prerace ablutions - stretching, jogging, retching - and still having almost a half hour before showtime, I decided to check out the free prostate screenings since I am approaching the age (or past it, depending on whose literature you read) where these things need to be monitored on a regular basis. I thought there wouldn’t be much of a crowd before the race and I also thought they would only be doing the minimally invasive PSA test.


I was half right. It wasn’t the half I would have preferred to have gotten correct. The volunteers were unsure how long the process would take but the heat index outdoors was already in the quadruple digits. I wouldn’t be crushed if I missed the race.

So, about fifteen minutes before the start of a 5K I was in a hotel meeting room, stuck behind a flimsy privacy curtain with my shorts somewhere between my knees and my ankles, bent at the waist and clutching a metal folding chair for physical and moral support while some dude’s finger was poking around up my butt. If there is a too-much-information section to this account, I’d like to think we’ve safely navigated past it now. The attending medical attendant did try to put me at ease - bought me dinner, a couple of drinks. The seductive vocal stylings of the Rotund Romeo played over the muzak system. While not one I’m anxious to repeat, it wasn’t that horrific an experience - on a par with, although in no way similar to, eating beets.


After he was done with the exam and his ensuing purification rituals, he checked normal on the form and said, “There’s nothing we need to be worried about right now.” What comforting phraseology! I hope when it is time to start being concerned he remembers to let me know because I’d hate to miss out on some good worry time.


The race hadn’t started yet. Properly traumatized, I made my way to the staging area and got in a few more stretches before they sent us off. I know it’s partially a hangover from last week, but I really didn’t like this course which mostly meandered through a major mixed-use development and some adjacent not-yet-developed streets. We didn’t run on the Central Expressway access road but we came close - twice. I’m pretty sure the running surface was 100% concrete although at times it seemed more like 200%. They can’t all be winners, I guess. I ran the first half of the race at a mediocre pace and that turned out to be the highlight; there were frequent short walking breaks over the second half. After thirteen miles last week I ran the last tenth in under 43 seconds; after three miles this week I ran the last tenth in 48 flat. We’re about a week away from the start of summer and I’m already counting the days until October.

05/30: Race For Awareness 5K

I Raced for Awareness in Denton except I didn’t, really; I raced for five kilometers along a cross-country course through North Lake Park because it was the most appealing race in north Texas this weekend, at least so far as I was concerned. So far this year I’ve run for scholarships, kids, the Albuquerque Zoo, access-to-justice programs, the Katy Trail and God knows what else but the only race I decided to run based on the beneficiary was the Katy Trail 5K. When choosing a race, location, distance, starting times, and friends are more immediate considerations than the charity or cause that the race benefits. Usually the cause is just a tie-breaker when I can’t decide between a couple of races.

I figure someday I’m going to look at the calendar and see that the only race scheduled for a particular day is the White Power 5K or something like that. I won’t run it, of course. 5Ks are too common; if they want to lure me into their race, they’re at least going to have to make it a less-common distance, like four or five miles. Or a 9K – 9Ks are cool. Even then, I’m going to really pig out on the postrace food to try and make sure that they lose money on me.

The Race for Awareness supports Alley’s House which, according to their website, offers a number of programs to assist teen mothers as well as a number of facts about teen pregnancies. Some of the statistics I saw on the website didn’t seem consistent (55,000 teen births each year in Texas but 80,000 new teen mothers – I guess some of these new teen mothers could be moving in from out of state although 25,000 seems like a lot) but these could be stats from different year, maybe. Anyway, Alley’s House seems like a worthwhile cause and I’m happy to throw a few bucks their way. Unless, of course, they’re really just a front for white supremacists. Then I wish the race had been a 9K. And in March or November or sometime when it’s not, like, 70 degrees at 8:30 in the morning.


I almost like cross-country. I would like cross-country except that the courses wander all over the place as the designers struggle to fit a two-mile or 5K loop into a small park, kind of like how DNA compacts itself down to fit two yards of genetic information into a cell the size of a pinhead. I like the non-paved terrain, though; the North Lake course was probably about 80% on grass and the rest on a dirt trail. They marked it well and had two water stops although I can’t remember the last time I drank in a 5K. Oh wait – it was in this race.


Before the race one of the organizers made a little speech about how glad she was to see so many people there and what a great day we had for running. As alluded to earlier, it was about 70 degrees and 80% humidity; personally I thought the weather was more conducive to spectating than to running. When I got back to my car, my parking tag for work had melted which I’m pretty sure means that there’s eighteen more weeks of summer.

05/14 & 05/16: Katy Trail 5K and Sean May Memorial Run

I spent a good part of this weekend committing at least one of the Seven Deadly Sins: I flew into Denver for a trail race in Brighton and did a training run the day before on a trail south of Boulder; I would kill to have trail options like this around Dallas. For the record, Envy, not murder, is the Deadly Sin I committed. Murder, per se, is not a Deadly Sin so if you do kill someone, do it for reasons other than Anger, Envy, Gluttony, Greed, Pride, or Lust.

Before coming to Denver I ran the Katy Trail 5K in Dallas Thursday evening and then pigged out in the VIP tent at the picnic on shrimp, salmon cakes, steakettes, and chicken quesadillas, washed down with Fire Rock Pale Ale. They had vegetarian options as well but I didn’t want to add Gluttony to my list of transgressions so I passed on them, hoping to exhibit some restraint. I think it worked until I went back for seconds on the shrimp and salmon. And the beer.


The VIP tent was new this year, the deal being that for a hundred bucks (as opposed to the regular race fee of $30 or whatever) you received, in addition to the normal entry, a Friend of the Katy Trail membership, a running cap, and a pass for the VIP tent. I wouldn’t pay the money expecting a material return of approximately equal value but I’ve been giving them $100 for the past few years anyway - I consider it my annual user fee. So if they want to throw some perks my way for the money, I’m cool with that.

I don’t know if the VIP tent will be back next year; it didn’t look like many people signed up for the deluxe package. Although I suppose many of them could have done what I did - load up on food and good beer, then head over to mingle in the main picnic area. Still, I think next year I may be back to swilling Michelob Ultra with the common folk.


I heart the Katy Trail, I really do. It runs 3.5 miles from Airline Drive down to the American Airlines Center and while the main trail is paved with concrete, there’s maybe 2.5 miles of adjacent soft-surface trail. Over 2.5 miles, from Knox Street to the AAC, is free of street crossings. By Dallas standards, it’s an incredibly great place to run, or walk, or roller-blade, which makes it a great place to people-watch (which could lead to another Deadly Sin) in spring and autumn. In Boulder, though, and northern Colorado in general, it would probably be just another pedestrian walkway.

I was driving down South Foothills Highway looking for the South Boulder Creek West trailhead. It came up sooner than I expected which meant that I went flying past it; I figured I’d turn around at the next traffic light and come back to it. The Marshall Mesa trailhead was at that particular light, though, so I ran there instead - four miles or so along the Marshall Mesa, Community Ditch, and Cowdrey Draw trails. I thought these were great but I’m guessing that, to locals, there just some random trails.


Saturday I ran in the Sean May Memorial Run, a nine-mile race around Barr Lake, on a packed-dirt trail that we could really use in north Texas. Sean May was an Adams County Deputy District Attorney who was shot and killed in August, 2008; this was the first annual run and proceeds will support Access to Justice programs. The organizers put together a helluva goodie bag; in addition to a blue technical running shirt it included a water bottle, a star-shaped squeeze ball, a small pad and pen in a cloth folder, another pen, a post-it pad, lip balm, sunscreen, and body lotion. Hauling all this stuff back to DFW, I may wind paying an overweight luggage fee.

Being as it was the inaugural running, there were some glitches. Runners in both the nine-mile (referred to at times as a 15K but I think it was probably nine miles) and 5K were directed to the start, where the 5K people found out that they were actually supposed to start back by the bridge we crossed walking to the start. They recovered quickly; they told the 5Kers to hang out behind the nine-milers until we had started, then they walked them back to the bridge and started them from the proper location. I guess - that was their plan but I was gone by then.


Gone on my way around Barr Lake, that is. We ran and ran and ran some more, except for a couple of walking bits I threw into the last couple of miles, but mostly we ran. In my case, for 1:17:43, give or take a walking break or two or three, which left me satisfied and in need of a nap. It’s amazing what an escape from warm temperatures and high humidity can do for your running. Or my running, at least.

05/09: Run for Kids 5K

The announcement dude had one final note for us before he passed the microphone to the leather-lunged starter woman for whom it was probably superfluous – he warned us of a couple of speedbumps (one painted, one au natural) that we’d have to negotiate just after the start. I appreciated the information. Last week in Albuquerque, I kept on tripping over all these damn speedbumps that I had no clue about and that were spaced far enough apart to encourage amnesia; in addition those were stealth speedbumps, unpainted and wide and shallow, which is probable safer in that really I stumbled more than I tripped but were still a pain in my butt. Although not as much a pain as I might have felt if I really had tripped.


I had at least six local races to choose from except they were all 5Ks so really, I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice at all. I went with the Southlake (home of the Southlake Carroll Dragons – the race was staged from Carroll High School) Kiwanis’ Run for Kids 5K because they were giving away a mesh bag as part of the goody bag, which also included a water bottle, a lethal weapon disguised as a letter opener, an issue of Health magazine, and authentic-looking ‘70s-style wrist sweatbands. Along with the usual t-shirt, all for a $20 registration fee. I love schwag.


The generosity of the race organizers extended to prize money. Both the male and female winners received a thousand bucks and there was also a team competition where the top five-person teams, both male and female, received $500. Double dipping was not allowed, though, which came as an unfortunate surprise to Kip Chemirmir, who won the race but was also a member of the winning men’s team – which meant he forfeited the individual cash prize to Clint Bell and received a much smaller check for his share of the team winnings. Well, the checks were the same size but the amounts were substantially different.


The course meandered through suburban streets south of the high school and featured stealth mile markers. I was looking for them throughout but it wasn’t until near the end – I’m guessing about a tenth of a mile from the finish – I saw a 3 painted on the ground. Which wasn’t where I was looking for them for the most part. Talking to a guy I knew after the race, he said he saw the first two but he thought the first one was way off. He ran about 6:30 pace –a fairly even 6:30 pace, he thought – but his splits for the first two miles were 7:12 and 5:58. So maybe it’s just as well I didn’t see the first marker; I would have been bummed beyond belief to find I had run like an 8:40 or slower opening mile.

The awards ceremony was in the football team’s indoor practice facility and featured a small health fair going on concurrently, which allowed me to score a couple of plastic cups and a small tube of sunscreen. More schwag, which made getting up at some unGodly hour on Saturday all worthwhile.

03/14/09: Dash Down Greenville

Worst. Dash Down Greenville. Ever.

Okay, that’s more harsh than it is true even if it was my slowest, by two seconds, and the weather for the race was the worst I remember but it wasn’t all that bad – chilly and damp, but not cold, not rainy, not windy. Had it been any of those things this race report would be based solely on guesswork. See enough sunny, 60-degree race days and you start to get a little spoiled, I guess; this was just a mildly crappy day at the end of a meteorologically challenging week. Anyway, for all the gloom attendance didn’t seem to suffer much – 2128 timed finishers (including No First Name Mason and Forrest Gump) this year as opposed to 2156 last year and 1761 in 2007.

In past years this race was sponsored by Two Rows brewpub; not long after last year’s Dash the Greenville location of Two Rows closed. Central Market stepped up to handle the hosting duties, which was a profitable move on their part – I stopped in between the race and the Dallas St. Patrick’s Day Parade for a coffee and two shamrock cookies. These are cookies shaped like shamrocks, not cookies made of shamrocks. I think.

The change in venue also meant some changes to the course, the most important of which was a reversal of direction which is actually beneficial – it puts the hilly section of the course (Southwestern Boulevard) earlier in the race instead of having it lurk just before the finish. The next major change was to eliminate part of Southwestern Boulevard in favor of the section of Caruth Haven between Greenville and Southwestern, which may have also taken some hills out of the course. Finally, they eliminated some turns by staying off of Milton and the unknown side street – Matilda, maybe – and just having us run down University all the way to Greenville, then turn to the north and head to the finish.

So they made all these changes that should make for a faster course, and I ran a disappointing 25:21. Too much bratwurst (that’s not a euphemism – I had brats for lunch three times this week) and not enough exercise in recent days, I guess. Adding insult to, well, insult, my nemesis tied me. Maybe. For some reason, the results are listed with times down to the hundredth of a second except all the hundredths are give as .00. I like to think I edged him by a tenth of a second or so.

02/14/09: Haltom Stampede 5K

7:09. Hopefully there will be a time later this year when running a 7:09 mile at the start of a 5K won't feel like a tragic mistake; it'll feel like either I'm right on schedule or perhaps dawdling a bit. Right now, however, a 7:09 opening mile means I've started too fast and there's a terrible price to be paid in the near future. In the case of this year's Haltom Stampede, that bill came due late in the second mile when we turned a corner and headed up an inauspicious hill that shouldn't cause me any trouble but in this instance humbled me and slowed me to a walk. My mile splits for this 5K were 7:09, 8:34, and 7:34 , and it's not like I was running according to some shrewd plan I had devised. I should have known better; I spent most of the first mile on the heels of one of DFW's better female masters runners, who normally finishes a 5K a couple of minutes before I do. Today? She bettered my 24:04 by about two minutes.

I seriously considered blowing this race off, even though I had registered the day before. Had the race started at 8:00 rather than 9:30 or if it had been windier, I probably would have written it off as too cold and raw. Unfortunately weather would be the only justification for bagging but conditions weren't unpleasant enough; it was just mediocre crappy - cold but not frigid, breezy but not blustery. So I ran, except for when I walked.

All things being equal, I like the idea of the 9:30 start at this time of year, but all things aren't equal - I have ultimate at noon in Las Colinas and the late start brings my less-than-stellar time management skills into play. I went straight from the finish line to my car which was in one respect unfortunate; according to the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram, my mediocre performance got me third place in my age group, entitling me to one of the unique and prestigious Haltom Stampede ceramic buffaloes. I'd like to thank the Academy, of course, but even more I'd like to thank all the better runners who found something better to do this particular morning.

I would have liked to have had more time to hang out afterwards, and not just to pick up my buffalo. The people running this event do one thing that's very important for a potentially cold-weather race: they have, in the Haltom City Recreation Center, a comfortable indoor staging area. They also seemed to have a good amount of postrace food, including animal crackers which I think I could probably eat my weight in animal crackers. So maybe there's an upside to me having to leave immediately after finishing - more animal crackers for everyone else. Anyway, I had to get to Irving in time to help my team lose both our games Saturday afternoon. I don't know if they could have done it without me.