St. Malachi 2011 Recap

After the 2010 Turkey Trot, I started taking a good hard look at everything I was doing with regards to running from training to equipment, and finally nutrition.  If you remember in the last post I was talking about turning down all of the outside aids that Christina was suggesting at the time of the Turkey Trot, but I started coming around on the idea of actually researching and attempting new RUNNER things.  This would turn out to be a deluge of information that I would find extremely interesting, if not a bit overwhelming at times.  It would be around the turn of the new year that I hit the ground running (ha! Another pun!).  I started January of 2011 a semi-trained, beefier (~220 lbs) runner without much direction and by May of 2011 I had transformed my body, mind and training, but more on this later (these are becoming my favorite words to end a sentence).  As I had mentioned in my last entry, I had found a few of my friends were runners and were more than helpful in my quest to fine tune some things.  Most notably Mike, the husband of Mandy's coworker, helped more than anyone I know.  I began the initial St. Malachi training in this outfit: Nike Dri-Fit socks, Nike Vomero shoes, cotton boxer briefs, basketball shorts, cotton t-shirts, and the Nike+ system I had received for Christmas.  After many, MANY trials and tribulations, I ended up with the same shoe/sock combo, Nike Pro-Combat compression shorts, Umbro Soccer shorts, and Nike Dri-Fit shirts.  Well on my way to a completed wardrobe of actual running gear.  I was quickly on the path to becoming a certified #Runnerd talking about 0 drop shoes, fueling, carbing up, and Fartlek runs (still makes me giggle to this day).

For the St. Malachi 2011 race, I followed much the same training as I had for the Turkey Trot, and even stopped keeping manual track of my runs, opting to use the Nike+ system that worked with my shoes and iPod.  It began in early January running on the Indoor JCC track that would become my home for the next 6-7 months.  Slowly at first, I started building up miles, then lowering times through the ice cold January and February months, opting for a 3 day schedule of running per week.  Looking back, I should have been training more days and less distance per workout, but hindsight is 20/20 as they say.  I don't have a lot of data from this time of training since I did it all on the Nike+ site, which I no longer use, but I would say I was logging around 8-10 miles per week by the end of it.  At one point in late February I got sick of the whole "follow a schedule" thing and decided to just go out and run 5 miles to see where I was in the training process.  I ended up somewhere around 48 minutes without full effort, so I knew I was in for a good run.  

For the actual race, about a week out all of my friends dropped out one by one.  Nick was traveling, my partner in crime Kristy was hungover the morning of and couldn't answer the bell, my buddy Brian had a knee injury that kept him from training, and so on.  On this day I found Brian's sister Megan, which was a HUGE lift for me, as I'm a social being (as you've seen in past posts).  So, I was able to get mentally prepared with Megan and her fiance, who was watching their baby girl Sydney while Megan ran.  The preparation for this day was all about proper clothes, and chowing a ClifBar and PowerAde Zero prior to starting.  Not a terrible choice, but something that would be tweaked in the coming days.  I actually had started on a regiment of Hammer Recoverite after 5+ mile runs, as suggested by Christina, and still follow that suggestion, so I had that in the waiting for post race consumption.  The weather was supposed to be a complete mess at around 35* and snowing/raining, however someone was smiling on us runners that day when it turned out to be closer to 40* with copious amounts of sun.  That really brought a smile to my face as I approached the staging area.  I remember getting to the line a little late, and starting up my new Garmin Forerunner 305 about 5 minutes before race time.  Since this was literally the first time I started it up, I had no idea how it worked.  It was 3 fretful minutes to catch the GPS signal, and 2 minutes of light stretching before the race was underway.

In the first mile, I made the awful mistake of starting too close to the back of the pack.  If I was to run the race I wanted to run, I would have to bob and weave through the entire crowd.  St. Malachi had changed the run course this year to not include the killer hill into Tremont at the end of the 3rd mile, which was good in a way, but bad since the course took you down, up, down, up and down again over it's duration.  First was a short 1/4 mile straight down a hill, then, a sharp right hand turn onto a narrow street,.  This is when it became completely evident that I had chosen the wrong course of action as the street was so congested that I had to stop and walk for a good 20 seconds.  Becomingly increasingly frustrated, I darted off into the grass to circumvent the mass of people on the outside, which was adding distance to my run already.  After successfully navigating around the initial craziness, it was straight up hill to West 25th street.  I felt really good pacing myself up this hill, probably learning a lesson from last year's Turkey Trot about sprinting up hills, even early in the race.  I caught a nice pace on the upper portion of the Detroit Ave. bridge and glanced at my watch as it alerted me that I was going to fast.  I would soon find out that these alerts were probably the most annoying thing about the GPS watches, and have since turned all but the mile marker notice off.  It's a lot easier to be organic during a race and speed up/slow down at how you are feeling once you get a feel for that kind of thing.  My plan for the day was to take the first 2 miles at around 9:00/mile pace, then lower each subsequent mile by a few seconds to finish just below the 45:00 mark, for the first time.  The first 2 miles went well as after the Detroit Avenue bridge it was all downhill towards Browns stadium, until you hit the lake and turned around.  At that point, the race came back up from the lake and was almost exclusively uphill, which I should have taken into account during the first 2 'easy miles'.  About the half way point on the pier, I started thinking I may be able to hold the pace the whole time without any issues, but fatigue was starting to set in.  There was a water stop out there somewhere and I stopped to collect my thoughts for 5 seconds while I drank the water.  I think at this point I finally realized that I had to run uphill the whole way back and doubt started to creep into my mind.

Starting the 2nd half of the race and running back down the peer along side Cleveland Browns Stadium, I started watching the other runners that were behind me and felt a little better that I had less than them to run.  And as I hit West 3rd street, I put my head down, cracked the tunes and barreled forward.  Luckily there was a little break in the uphill right around West 6th street, so I was able to catch my breath right before the last climb up the Detroit Avenue bridge again, heading the other way towards home.  At the bottom of the bridge I took as deep a breath as I could and looked down at the ground about 5 feet in front of me, not wanting to see how far I had to go.  After what I felt like was a mile in it's own, I took a glance upwards expecting to be close to the peak of the bridge, only to see I had a significant distance to go.  I thought about slowing down right there, but with my goal of a sub-45:00 in sight, I kept moving along.  My watch had the distance by the end of the hill listed at 4.60 miles so I thought I had a bit more to go, but the finish line turned out to be right around the corner.  I don't know if I had screwed something up or the distance wasn't quite right, but I was frantic when I saw the finish line well before I had planned for it.  I sprinted into a crowd that was running 5 wide, bobbed and weaved through a few more people and crossed the finish line at a dead sprint.  I glanced at the time on the official board 44:54.84.  I had done it for sure, but I wondered by how much officially.  Looked at my watch at it read 43:49, which turned out to be the time listed on the official website.  8:46/mile.  I had slaughtered my last performance, and my goal of sub-45:00.  The only negative to this was that I had NO ONE to celebrate with.  I couldn't find Brian, who was down there in support of me and Megan.  I couldn't find Megan either, so I was all alone to gloat in my victory.  I went over to the tent, grabbed a banana and a water, sat down next to St. Malachi's and took in a beautiful day and beamed in silence.  

Later on I found Brian and watched Megan cross the finish line, but it was a kind of lonely feeling not having anyone there to specifically root for you and wait at the finish line.  To be honest, even given the awesome finish, it wasn't one of my favorite race day experiences.  I pretty much said hey to Brian and Megan and then left for home, since it was Mandy's birthday that day as well.  My in-laws were in town waiting and gave me a hardy congratulations, but it just kind of felt... lacking.  This is still my favorite race and I will still run it every year that I am physically able, and it did kick off my most successful year of running by FAR.  Triumphs would come in bunches in 2011, so I'm glad it all started in quiet fashion in downtown Cleveland, where I would return 2 months later for an even bigger challenge.

-RFH-

-Adam

Turkey Trot 2010

It was around my birthday (July 29th) in 2010 that I had decided I wanted to actually train as a runner for a couple of races and see where it took me.  After speaking with a couple of friends, we nailed down the next race to be the Turkey Trot in downtown Cleveland.  A yearly tradition that had lasted for 29 years, it was now my turn to take a crack at it.  It was shortly after my birthday that I had a serious conversation with Mandy and said that if I were to start training seriously, I would need some new actual running kicks and a plan.  I had some friends to bounce some ideas off of, but no one in the elite running category so I sought the advice of the local Second Sole running shop.  It took about 30 minutes of measuring and watching me run to determine a style of shoe I would need (I happen to be a mild supinator).  He brought out 3 different brands and style: Brooks Ghost, Nike Vomero, and an Asics branded one that I can't remember.  The Asics brand was tight around the foot, so they were out, the Brooks and Nike shoes fit well so I took both out for a trial run... Nike won out, but not by much.  This actually shocked me because I have never owned anything Nike before in my life, much less expensive running shoes.  So with new shoes and new goals, I set out training for my 2nd 5 mile race.


IT was around this time that I began keeping a running log to show progress and attain certain goals that I was looking for.  It's very amusing and a proud moment to look at where I've come from.  For instance here is the first line in my log (written in Microsoft Notepad):


09/15 = 1.65mi 17:52 (10:50/mi)


I would run one distance (starting with the 1.65 mile loop around the block) until I eclipsed the 9:00/mi mark that I was looking to attain for the race.  I did pretty well, running around 3 days a week for the better part of September and October, however training tailed off around the middle of October and I can't remember why.  At that point I was running 2.8 miles successfully at a rate close to the 9:00/mi pace I was looking for on race day.  I trained a lot after the middle of October, but for some reason, I decided not to record the rest of my training period.  


Race day rolled around on Thanksgiving morning and I went downtown with Adam and Christina (the new found love of his life).  Christina was a former bike rider and meddled in some running in her day, so she would become a valuable resource.  I ran in much the same outfit as the St. Malachi run, sporting basketball shorts, Nogi rashguard underneath a cotton shirt, winter hat, gloves, but with new secret weapons- shoes and appropriate socks.  The day was colder than St. Malachi at around 35* and raining.  It was the grossest possible weather, but I was in good spirits to be running with so many close friends.  We had a solid group of around 10 people running, at all different levels.  I didn't want to say anything but it looked like I was going to be one of the first to finish in our group after all of my secret training.  Stretches came in the Galaria before the race and Christina offered me everything from powder based Sports drink, nipple rub, and Ibuprofen to prevent future aches and pains.  At this point I passed on all of it, determined to stick to what I knew.  This would adversely change in the future, but more on that later.


The beginning of the race started and Nick and I took the lead in our 10 person pack. We ran a very easy first mile, even to the point where I was thinking "Wow, this is going to be cake!"  However, the reason it was so easy was because we had run an 11:15 minute mile, WAY over what I was hoping to run.  It's funny looking back how differently I viewed 11:!5 minute miles.  The first St. Malachi run I was horrified because I had gone to fast, the Turkey Trot  was horrified because I had gone WAY to slow... what a difference 6 months and a different perspective makes.  It was at this point that I had separated from Nick around Browns Stadium and was looking for anyone in our group.  Around mile 2 I passed by Kristy who was impressively running in her Vibram 5 fingers shoes.  She asked what time I had and looked to pick up the pace with me.  I got to the top of the East 9th hill and had to take a 2 second break to catch my breath as I ran it too fast trying to make up for time.  This was my biggest disappointment of the day, but I took it in stride (haha- pun) and moved on when I could.  I started getting really gassed out around mile 3.5 when we were running away from downtown.  I kept thinking the turn to come back should be close, even around the next bend, but it never came.  Finally there was a quick jaunt in the course and a slight downhill that allowed me to catch my breath a bit before the final straight away down St. Clair.  At this point with only a little over a mile left to go,  I turned on whatever energy I had left and starting running as fast as I could without completely exhausting myself.  I thought at least 5 times that I should stop and take it easy, but I could spot the Galleria in the distance coming closer and closer, so I kept moving forward.  I sprinted the last 50 yards or so and crossed the finish line.  


I took a glance up at the "official" clock and it read 49:10.  I knew I hadn't started at the beginning of the pack, but I also knew that I hadn't started 4:10 back of the starting line.  A look at the website later on confirmed my suspicions as the official time came in at 48:26 (9:41/mi).  Disappointed didn't even begin to describe what I was feeling.  I knew I had lost the goal in the first mile and the subsequent sprint up the hill.  If I wanted to attain future goals I would have to stick to the plan as long as I could and if it went awry, I would have to strategically plan a recovery- not get flustered and try to make up time all at once.  The one good thing that came of the race is that I did finish first among the guys in our group.  Kristy managed to pull ahead of me somewhere (probably the top of the hill) and finish at 47:00 and Daneen at 47:08.  I was the 3d in the group after that, so I was happy with the progress I had made.  Overall I was inching towards the middle of the pack (175/237 age group and 2040/3387 overall), so progress was made.  I was not satisfied, however and was even more determined than ever to realize certain goals. It was at this point that I think the running bug had officially attached itself to me.  I was going to spend a winter of indoor training to get ready for the 2011 St. Malachi run and break that 45 minute goal if it killed me.  Little did I know that would be the least of the goals that 2011 presented itself with, but more on that later.  


My biggest qualm with the Turkey Trot was the lack of after party.  Being the social person I am, I was disappointed that we were heading home, but family time awaited.  This was the first time I posted on Facebook about my running and received quite a few positive reactions from a wide variety of people, even some that I hadn't thought would care at all, so that was even more positive reinforcement that I was onto something.  Included in these friends was a complete subculture of runners that I didn't even realize existed in my group.  I had many more resources to pull from than I had originally thought, which would lead to many more ideas, suggestions and opportunities in the future.  And my future in running was definitely something I was looking forward to...

-RFH-

-Adam

St. Malachi 2010 Retrospective Recap

After 2 months I've returned to write what I hope is going to be a couple of recaps of past races that I've run before the memories fade even more than they have already.  For the St. Malachi 5 mile run in 2010 I had the benefit of running with a few really close friends, and a few acquaintances.  I sort of had a brief recap in my first post, but I'm going to try to add as many details as I can remember in this one...

The training for my first race ever (including younger years) went very interestingly to say the least.  I was sporadically able to get on the treadmill at the local JCC for a few miles maybe once or twice a week.  Looking back, I needed way more training than I put in, but I had yet to fully commit to the whole running thing.  The longest distance I had ever run prior to toeing the start line (more like, hanging at the back of the crowd, more nervous than I have ever been in my life) was 3 miles.  And that was a struggle.  My goal for the day was to run the whole distance without stopping and to finish with a flurry.  Well, 1 out of 2 isn't terrible for my first race.  

Prior to the race, I had no idea what I was going to wear, or if I should bring anything with me, however I decided that since it was cold I would wear my MMA Nogi rashguard for protection from the wind.  I also made the fatal mistake of buying brand new shoes (OFF OF eBAY!!) the week prior to the race.  They were green and stylish... and they hurt my feet.  Since the day was around 35* and rainy I began the run with a rashguard (kind of like a light Under Armour layer), a winter hat and some thin gloves that I stole off of my wife.  By the end of the race I had my gloves off in my pockets, winter hat off in my other pocket, and my rashguard sleeves rolled up past my elbows.  Apparently being 215 lbs and running 5 miles creates a lot of heat, even in 40* weather.  The rest of my attire included an Under Armour short sleeved t-shirt, cotton boxer briefs, some longer basketball shorts, heavy cotton socks and the afore mentioned brand new shoes.  Needless to say, I've learned a lot since then in the way of dressing appropriately.

Prior to the race I arrived with my friend Melissa, and met up with Brian, his cousin Ryan, sister Megan, cousin Pat, and a group called the Young Irish Professionals that includes a good friend Kelly.  Brian and I had decided to run the race about a month prior in honor of his father, a multi-marathon runner who had passed away the prior December.  Selfishly, it was the closest person that I had know to pass away.  That being said, I cannot even imagine what Brian and his family were going through.  To this day we still toast with his famous "The first one of the day!" regardless of if the beer was actually the 1st or closer to the 20th.  The morning of, I remember stating  multiple times that I wish I had signed up for the 2 mile run.  I talked strategy with Brian for a few minutes and we decided to shoot for 12 minute miles and sneak in under an hour for our first 5 mile race.  Brian was going to be timing it with his fossil watch.  Really.  Standing in the starting gate, I can't remember being this nervous for anything, even my wedding day... 

Then the starting gun went off along with a serenade of bagpiping (my favorite).  I took one look at Brian, and stated simply "For your dad", followed by a solid fist bump and we were on our way.  By the time we reached the bottom of the first hill, I could already see the leaders running back along the Cuyahoga river a good 1/2 mile ahead after just 30 seconds.  I knew I was in for a long ride at this point.  I was nervous right around the 1st mile marker because I was already feeling a bit out of gas, and it was because we ran a 11:15 mile.  I know it sounds ludicrous now, but that was way out of my pace range and I was scared about the remaining run.  It was a little after the 2nd mile marker that Brian had to stop running.  I wanted to as well, but I kept trudging on and was doing quite well until I sloshed mistakenly through a puddle.  Now, my already hurting new shoes were wet as well... the prefect combination.  It didn't really start to matter until I hit the death hill.  For some reason, the people at St. Malachi decided it was a good idea to run uphill into Tremont, a long and steep hill, at the end of the 3rd mile.  It was at this point that I had to stop running the first time and catch my breath.  All in all, I made it 3 miles before my legs wouldn't go any farther without a rest.  The 4th mile was all downhill, so as soon as I hit the crest of the hill I went into gravity mode and let the downhill momentum carry me.  I thought I'd be able to coast home, however even this took it out of me and I was starting to get close to the 12 minute mark according to the volunteer at the end of the 4th mile.  It was at this point that I considered mailing it in and walking the rest of the way.  I took a short 10-15 step break from running, collected myself before starting up once again, since Bob wouldn't have quit in a marathon if he had faced adversity.  I remember thinking to myself "this is the last time I will be this ill-prepared for a run ever again."  The last mile was sort of a blur, and I remember walking over a particularly slippery bridge back over the Cuyahoga river, hearing a friend's dad play the bagpipes along the 2nd last straight away.  A volunteer looked at me and I think she knew I was struggling, and gave me a good boost of energy with an encouraging clap and a 'your almost there' cheer.  I walked to the last corner and all that was left was a straight uphill 1/4 mile dash.  Already mad at myself and wondering if I was going to miss my 56 minute goal, I sprinted the whole way up the hill.  It was a minor victory on a day that I felt like I had few.  The best news of the day- I looked up at the timer and saw the 54:08 and was shocked.  After I lost Brian and heard from the 3rd mile guy I must have lost track of any sort of pace and pushed too hard.  That lifted my spirits enough to turn around and wait for Brian, who crossed the line at 55:15, 45 seconds under his desired pace.  We were satisfied.

That day was full of mental trials that I did not see coming, some wins, more losses, but ultimately looking at the accomplishment of finishing my first race in 1:52 seconds faster than I thought I could run it felt really, really good.  The after party with close friends and friends that became closer that day did nothing to thwart my new found love of competing against myself.  Enjoying the post-race glow I realized that I had accomplished something that a lot of people never will, albeit slowly and methodically, and I looked forward to future challenges.  It would be 8 months until my next race and I learned so much in those 8 months that it makes this race look borderline ridiculous, but it will always have a special places on my wall of accomplishments.  Brian and I finished 167 and 164 out of 173 25-29 year old males that day, which was a bit discouraging, but we finished and we were enjoying our celebratory beers at McCarthy's in the flats.  After a bit of a quiet moment, I lifted my Guinness to Brian in a toast and just smiled and said "First one of the day!"

-RFH-

-Adam

The beginning...

So, I'm brand new to this whole "runnerd" world.  I wouldn't call myself a full fledged runnerd yet, but I'm getting closer after every mile I run.  If you would have asked me 2 years ago if I would ever run a half marathon I would have looked you dead in the eye and called you the craziest person on the face of the Earth.  But more on that later... My notorious quote had always been "give me a ball and a game and I can run until I am blue in the face, but there is no way I am going to run a mile for the sake of running a mile."

I can pinpoint the exact moment this mindset all changed, and it's not a very fond memory.  A close friend of mine, Brian (one of my oldest friends), lost his father to a rap sheet of different cancers over 2 years ago now.  His name was Bob and he had run multiple marathons in his lifetime, and he was singlehandedly the healthiest person I knew.  This being said, I can't count the amount of times we've shared a Guinness together with and without my buddy ("First one of the day!" was his toast whether it was our 1st or 10th of the day).  It was shortly after that when Brian approached me with an idea to run the St. Malachi 5 miler in 2010 in his honor and see where it took us from there.  I still wear a Livestrong bracelet in his honor today, and plan on wearing his initials "RFH" if/when I complete my first marathon.

To say the training for St. Malachi didn't go according to plan would be an understatement.  I started only being able to lightly jog for 1 mile at a time, and slowly built upon that.  Being a lifelong athlete- baseball, swimming, soccer, and golf in my earlier years; softball, MMA, golf, basketball, and soccer more recently- I found it incredibly frustrating how slow and steady the climb to having some sort of stamina was going.  By the time the St. Malachi run day came I was expecting to "run" 11 minute miles and hoped to finish in under 55 minutes.  Looking back on that, it was a good goal, but it's funny how far I've come since then.  The gear I showed up in: Under Armour long sleeved shirt and heat gear t-shirt over that.  I threw on some Hanes boxer briefs (I thought they would keep everything in place LOL) and a pair of basketball shorts.  The footwear situation was even more laughable looking back: a pair of Adidas cotton sport socks and a pair of BRAND NEW Reebok short tennis shoes (I bought them because they are an awesome shade of green).  Long story longer I finished the race in 54:45, beating my goal by a good 15 seconds, and had to stop my "running" 4 times along the route to catch my breath and get my legs back underneath me.  I was winded by mile 2 and didn't think I was going to finish.  Having Brian with me and having Bob as my motivation, I was able to cross the finish line on a dead sprint... but I was HURTING all over.  Inner thighs chafed, feet sore and blistered (did I mention it was 35* and raining??), so I thought it was the end of my running career.  I was happy to have met my goal and was willing to move on not look at another treadmill again for the rest of my life.

But then came the after party.  I was pretty excited to have finished my first race, and seeing all the smiling faces and the party that was going on really showed me the reward side of running.  Now, my friends know I am no stranger to a party, and loving being around new, fun people this was really the topper for me.  We had beers all day long, enjoyed being with great friends and when it was over, I left with a smile on my face and thought to myself "So, THIS is what it is all about."  My first runner's high wasn't from running, it was from joining my fellow comrades in a victory celebration.  Anyone that knows me knows that above all, I love meeting and interacting with all sorts of people.  That's what has gotten me to where I am in life both personally and professionally.  As soon as I realized that running races was a SOCIAL event, I was sold.  The long lonely hours of training for the races was worth the payoff of 1 perfect day with thousands of your closest friends.

-RFH-

-Adam