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.

11/01: Marshall University Half Marathon

I run faster carrying a football - that was my takeaway from the Marshall University Half Marathon, where I made sure to tell them that I still have four years of eligibility left. Cutting across the end zone, I took a short pitch from a dude who really wanted to execute a straight hand-off, turned up field, and dashed - well, as much of a dash as I could muster after thirteen miles - towards the opposing goalline, which was also the finish line of the race. I thought about diving across the finish line with the ball stretched out in front of me but thought better of it - the chip was recorded by my foot hitting the mat, not the ball breaking the plane of the end zone. It would be a bitch not to have my finishing time recorded because I dove over the mat.

The timing chip was one of two things I didn’t love about the race; in fact, the timing chip I actively disliked, although it was partially my fault. The chip was on a Velcro strap and wearing it felt like a mild form of house arrest - I would have preferred the more traditional set-up of a chip attached to the laces with a plastic tie. Of course, the Velcro strap may not have bothered me so much if I hadn’t put it on too loosely originally, and then overdid it when I tightened it just before the start. By the end of the race my ankle was hurting, probably because the strap was cutting off circulation - after the race I saw that it was cutting into the skin.

The course was the other thing I didn’t love but I certainly liked it okay, mostly because it was flat and fast. I think it’s the second-fastest half marathon I’ve ever run, behind the old Las Vegas course - which they don’t use any more, and I’ve never run the new one there. On the down side there are a few stretches, totally probably somewhere between a third and a half of the race, that aren’t too scenic; it’s not a half course that I’d want to be strolling through. I think that’s at least partially a function of Huntington - you have a choice between fast and scenic; if you want some lovely views, you’re going to have to climb for them.

The weather- lower forties, a light breeze - was also conducive to running and I ran my fastest half in ten years, despite maybe also running my dumbest race in ten years. I covered the first three miles at 7:23 pace, the next eight at 7:40 pace, and averaged 8:17 from there through the finish. Despite speeding up at the end because I do, remember, run faster carrying a football. Actually, looking at those splits, they’re not that bad - I’ve run much dumber races many times over the past ten years. At any rate, it didn’t matter - the important thing was that I made it to the stadium while they were still grilling hamburgers. They were already out of cheese, though.

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.

09/27: State to State Half Marathon

I really need to stop trusting these motel clock-radios; I woke up at 6:40, 40 minutes away from the parking lot for the State to State Half Marathon, said parking lot being itself maybe a ten-minute walk to the staging area / starting line. I had to forgo my traditional prerace shower but I made it to the race with time to spare for picking up my timing chip. Barely.


The race starts in the middle of Oxford, Ohio, (home of the Miami University RedHawks) and runs into Indiana, although not really to, or even through, any specific town so far as I could tell, then returns to Ohio and Oxford. A banner was stretched across the state line; it said "Welcome To Indiana" and "Welcome To Ohio" on the appropriate sides but I don't actually remember seeing any permanent welcome signs in either direction. Which doesn't mean they weren't there; coming back, at least, they could have had an elephant on the side of the road and I might not have seen it.

The course is fairly simple - we followed High Street west out of town because Indiana is west of Ohio and although the name of the road changed, we pretty much stayed on it the entire time, except for two detours into subdivisions on the west side of Oxford while we were running towards Indiana. The course could be accurately described as rolling; going out I thought we were running mostly gentle uphills for a few miles. When I looked for a corresponding stretch of gentle downhills on the way back in, though, I was tragically disappointed because I really could have used them. Especially since I had already burned through my I-just-want-to-be-done sprint - at mile eight, which is a little early for a half marathon.


Storms came through overnight and we started under dark gray skies that, for whatever reason, turned noticeably darker once we crossed into Indiana, I mean, immediately, like the moment I passed under the banner. It reminded me of "The Stand," the way the weather turned sour on one of the good guys when he entered the Walkin Dude's domain. Not that I'm suggesting Indiana is under Randall Flagg's sway. I'm just saying - the sky was darker and more threatening there. Draw your own conclusions.


Eventually I got back to Ohio, Oxford, and the staging area, in that order. Chugging down High Street, I got passed by some guy who was finishing with too much energy. The announcer got excited and said, "We've got a real race to the finish here," but in fact we didn't - he blew my doors off. Which is fine since I've been meaning to have those doors replaced for years anyway. After finishing I checked out the postrace chow and was pleasantly surprised - not only was it well-stocked with traditional foodstuffs (bagels, bananas, granola bars) but it was also resplendent with one-offs - Tootsie Rolls and donuts. People were scarfing up snacks like they were provisioning for a trip to the North Pole - a carton of granola bars here, fistfuls of Tootsie Rolls there - but my mom raised me to be not quite so greedy; I just grabbed two donuts, three Tootsie Rolls, and a bottle of Gatorade. Then I took off to bankrupt a breakfast buffet.