Central Park, New York, 10 km

This morning I went to do a 10 km in Central Park. It has always been a dream of mine to run in Central Park in the snow, and today was the day. The race could have gone a lot better but the scenery was a dream. It snowed all night a few nights ago and then it snowed for a long time yesterday so there was no shortage of snow, although I was glad it was not actually snowing this morning. It was cold enough, minus six when I left the hotel at 8am.

The start was 9.10am and I thought I knew where to go - well, Central Park around 102nd St. So I rock up to the start line for the other race being held, and starting at 9am, the 4 mile. It started just as I got there, so I chilled and hung out. But I wondered why there was nobody else waiting there for the 10 km race start; turns out the start was several hundred metres away. I jogged over there and I heard the starter yell Go! But I still had to run in the wrong direction to get to the start line (and to the back of the small pack of runners). 

So I started in dead last place. Things could only get better. Things did get better, until they got worse. I felt good running and quite strong, passing several people and not feeling any pain from last weekend. I could not believe that this time last week I had just started my hundred miler.

I wanted to take photos but it was hard to slow down, turn on my IPod camera, select the view and click without masses of runners going by, and the scene was never what I wanted to shoot once I was ready to shoot. I managed this:

and then resorted to carrying my IPod with the camera running. That was not a smart idea. Near the southern end of the park, when you get the iconic view of the Manhattan skyline, I tried to take a picture and the battery was dead. 

Almost simultaneously I pulled my right calf muscle. This was bad news; I was less than three miles in but there was no way I was going to stop, so of course it got real bad real quick. This was far worse than what I’d done in St Pete’s. The pain moved around but didn’t diminish. I’ve never DNF'd a run and I was not going to start now, so I ploughed on but a lot slower.

The miles seemed long but I told myself that today’s job was to finish the race, nothing more. Hopefully running rather than walking. The scenery, a thick layer of snow on everything, continued to be a pleasure, although I have to admit I was very focussed on ignoring the pain I was in. My tight glute wanted to be heard too, and I worried that I would be brought to a halt at any moment.

I suppose I was actually thankful there were no aid stations so I didn’t have to stop (and start up again, which would be the painful part).

I would have got round in an hour if I hadn’t missed the start, so that’s not too bad, considering. After the race I was truly limping. Time to go home and recover!

Daytona 100 Mile, Florida, 9 December 2017

I was so apprehensive about this race, my first hundred miler, because of the weather. I had drawn up a time plan which I thought amply allowed for the heat, but I still got a shock when I tried to run the first time in hot Florida, and then I strained my calf so I didn’t run again until the race. But then the weather forecast for the weekend came through and spoke of a huge cold front to blanket the east of the USA, timed for Saturday. I realised that with low temperatures and a tailwind this could be my best opportunity for completing this huge distance.

It was a point to point course from Jacksonville to Daytona Beach. On the Friday afternoon, the day before the race, I drove to the race finish area, parked and took the shuttle to the start, 100 miles north. It was 30 degrees when I got into the shuttle. It was uncomfortably warm. When we got out at Neptune Beach two hours later it was 9 degrees! It was uncomfortably cold. I was wearing just my race gear, shorts and short sleeved shirt, and carrying two drop bags for the race, and a disposable toothbrush for tonight and the morning, but luckily I had brought a sweatshirt with me in case of a cold morning start to the race. 

By the time we came out of the race briefing at 6pm there was a full thunderstorm happening, big flashes of lightening and heavy rain - and I had to walk almost a mile to my hotel. My luck was in because a guy who had been on the shuttle was staying at the same hotel so we shared an Uber. I went to Panera and bought a sandwich and soup (!) for dinner without getting drenched, and a bear claw for breakfast, hoping the hotel would have coffee.

In the morning, 5am, this same guy tried to order an Uber to get us to the race start, or even a cab, but there weren’t any. It was still raining. We stopped a guy in the hallway who was clearly going to the race start and asked if we could share his car; he didn’t speak much English but appeared to say yes so we followed him outside. He loaded up his bicycle and pedalled off. We found a lift in a car.

The early miles of the race, still in the dark, took us through Neptune Beach where nothing whatsoever was going on. It had just stopped raining and there were lots of big puddles. I could see runners far ahead dodging the puddles. I wore my sweatshirt and was glad of it.

After we left the town we settled into a long stretch along a highway, A1A. I was going to be spending the bulk of my day on this road, but this was not the nicest part of it. We were running on the shoulder of the road and passing through some very upscale communities, huge houses and intricately landscaped yards. And a bonus: this was about to become a day when I couldn’t stop needing to wee, and whenever a house was having some construction work done there would be a portaloo near the road which was unlocked and available for use by runners. 

We had to run a section along the beach. The sand was mostly not too soft so we could run but there was a problem with it being high tide. Much of the beach had been eroded by Cyclone Irma and at some points when a big wave broke there was nowhere for us to go. On a hot day it would have been a way to cool down to be immersed in water but the prospect was not enticing on this day when the temperature never rose above 12 degrees. So we had to detour up to the road a few times. Once this involved clambering up a dune. I was running with a German woman - initially I tried to speak some German but I was relieved when she started speaking English. It was nice to chat and I enjoyed the company right up to the 50 kilometre point in St Augustine.

Coming into St Augustine we crossed a massive bridge over the Intracoastal waterway. The Intracoastal is a huge feature in Florida, as spectacular as the beaches. Last time I came to St Augustine I just sat in a traffic jam right through the town and never got out of the car. I felt good here. My second 50 kilometres was my best stretch of the day, and this wasn’t what I had been expecting.

When I got to the next bridge back across the Intracoastal there was a surprise: it was a drawbridge and it was open. A group of runners were waiting for the road to return to a runnable position and I joined them, not minding a rest. There followed a long stretch through a suburban area of strip malls. Ever since the beach section I was playing cat and mouse with two women, constantly passing them and being passed. They went into a bar, presumably for the toilet rather than for beer. I was happy to notice a restroom at the back of a taco place and I ducked in. 

The sun came out for a while in the late afternoon. Its weak warmth was pleasant. Once I was back on the open road the weeing became more of a problem. There weren’t any public toilets. I went into the bushes once. I put my sweatshirt back on in the hope of making myself sweat out some of this surplus liquid. As I approached 50 miles I was again getting desperate. (This was a shame because the scenery had suddenly improved, with views of the waters and vegetated islands of the Intracoastal as the sun was going down.) Where there was roadside vegetation it was too dense to penetrate. I thought I spied a toilet in a roadside park but it turned out to be a large signboard. Then we crossed the Intracoastal on a long bridge so no privacy there. On the far side I was delighted to see a portaloo in a parking lot but when I got closer I could see the portaloo was surrounded by deep water and was barricaded off. Not far off I found a gas station and just brazenly walked in to use the facilities.

It seemed to take ages to get to the 52 mile aid station, but when I got there it marked a big improvement on the earlier aid stations, which had quite frankly been disappointing with just a few lollies, Oreos, scraps of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. This one offered cooked-to-order grilled sandwiches, although I didn’t want to hang around while there was a remnant of daylight, and had  dips and chips. I took a big drink of Coke and had a large portion of espresso flavoured gel, and I felt amazing. I resolved to do the rest of the race on Coke. Most of the aid stations lacked cups so I drank the Coke from the bottle, hoping nobody was watching. When I contrasted how I had felt at the end of the 50 mile JFK with how I felt now - very comfortable - I was very satisfied. Truthfully I didn’t exactly want to run another 50 miles but I believed I could.

With darkness the temperature did not initially fall. We started on the Flagler to Marineland Trail which was a paved footpath alongside but separated from the road. It had palms and other vegetation on both sides and was nice running in the darkness. This was not a built up area and there was little traffic. I ran with a guy for a while but he was running a bit too fast for me. (Later on I passed him easily.) He was meeting up with his crew frequently and sitting down with them, an activity I would not contemplate. I took some early advice, "Beware the chair" very seriously. 

The vast majority of runners had crew, and I got plaudits for being alone (plus offers of help) but I liked it this way. The only issue I had was that the aid stations were geared up for people with their own crew. But I had a laugh when a the crew in one car asked me where the "rest station" was as they couldn’t see it; I thought of them as restaurants rather than places for resting!

I was taking many walking breaks, starting with running for 10 or 15 minutes and walking 200 or just 100 paces, but if I wasn’t ready to run at the end of my walk then I walked more. I thought it was better to take it easy now and feel strong later.

While I was running I was working on finding the best mental strategy. At times I would think: ok, just the McCall to go (at 60 miles) or: less than my biggest training day to go (at 70 miles), but I didn’t find this helpful, it was too far to contemplate comfortably. Nor did I feel good if I thought: two thirds done, or: just a fifth to go. It was better to break it into ten mile tranches and just focus on each one. It became a ten mile run, over and over. But I was pleased to have run my fastest 100 kilometres ever, at 13 1/2 hours.

After a while we were running alongside the ocean. I couldn’t see it but I could hear it. The sky was clear and full of stars. On the inland side we passed  what seemed like dozens of shack-like restaurants. Some had people in them but for a Saturday night they seemed too quiet. Maybe it was the cold weather. None of them had obvious toilets and I wasn’t game to go inside and ask. Eventually I went into a 7-11 and asked to use theirs, which was fine. But that was the last of such luxury. From then on I sought out the darkest gardens that had a bit of a bush close to the footpath that I could hide behind. 

At one point I was running with a woman whom I had been close to all day. We were comparing notes about the aid stations and she said "I’m sure I saw someone drinking out of a Coke bottle". I don’t think she meant me, but I 'fessed up anyway! At the 60 mile aid station I noticed they had a container of quesadillas so I took some, my favourite food. But they weren’t very nice, the cheese tasted artificial and was far too salty. At 70 miles I had a cup of noodles. But mostly I was drinking Coke, eating Oreos and PB&J's (where they were homemade). There were mini aid stations in between the main ones for runners like me who had no support crew, with just Coke and water and crisps. I sat down at the 70 mile aid station, the only one where I did this, and it was painful standing up.

For several hours I had been having feint but repetitive spasms in my left calf, not the one I strained in St Pete’s. They would come in bursts and then go, and I hoped for the best. My right glute was getting tighter.

It was getting colder and I was pleased to see my drop bag at the 82 mile aid station in Ormond Beach. I was wearing shorts with my cotton sweatshirt that I had carried since the morning. As I arrived I asked the volunteers if they thought I could use the toilet at the restaurant just there and they laughed, saying it had been closed for hours. I just had no idea of the time, and I think that’s a good way to be when doing this sort of race. I put on my tights which I had been carrying since my first drop bag at 60 miles, and my lightweight jacket, beanie and gloves. Once these things were on I felt good, but I had difficulty getting the clothes on because I was so stiff and my hands were cold.

This was a very built up area and when I left the aid station I had no confidence I was going the right way. The race was very short on signs, which did not usually matter. But suddenly in the middle of the night I felt very alone and uncertain. Remember the two women I had been playing cat and mouse with much earlier? One of the women had vanished but I was still running near the other one; I was just in front or just behind for hours and hours. A mile or so after I left this aid station, where she had been refuelling and chatting with her crew, I decided to stop and wait for her to be sure I was going the right way. I never saw her again. But another group of runners came by and assured me I was going the right way. 

It was quite amusing to see other runners with their pacers. There was plenty of walking, and when they ran the person who was in the race moved with a pained slow shuffle while the pacers looked as if they were dancing on air. I was walking more and more but when I ran I still felt strong, well, strong-ish. But I no doubt looked quite pathetic.

We ran through the endless town of Daytona Beach. It was mostly quiet as you'd expect long after midnight, but had pockets of activity. Thankfully there weren’t any drunks around and little traffic. I had been anxious beforehand about running through built up areas alone in the dark but I never felt uneasy. I got a slight surprise when a guy sitting on a bench suddenly spoke out of the darkness (not to me but to himself) but he actually apologised to me! Sometimes people would call out of passing cars, but it was always friendly encouragement. Someone sitting at a cafe called out to ask what we were doing, and when I told him he responded "Go, get 'em!" 

Without realising, I ran past the car park where I’d left my car, although I would have noticed the 7-11 I'd parked outside because I noticed every open business (for reasons I won’t repeat again).

The last main aid station was in the garage of the home of the race organiser's parents. They allowed me to use their toilet! It was such a lovely warm room. After this we were finally done with A1A. Five miles to go. Again I stopped and waited for other runners because I wasn’t sure I was going the right way. I lost some time here because no runners came. Finally a random jogger approached me and confirmed I was doing ok. I was surprised to see a jogger in the middle of the  night but it was closer to morning than I realised. 

I was in a residential area, then I ran past the Ponce Inlet lighthouse and reached the beach. The final two miles. As I ran onto the beach I felt tears welling up. I was going to finish this thing. The beach was wide and flat and easy running, but into a stiff headwind. A guy came up behind me and said he wanted to run behind me, for some reason I couldn’t understand. I didn’t care, I was running as fast as I could, and counting slowly in my head for distraction. I could see the finish line clock as soon as I turned onto the beach. Then I just had to run past five large apartment blocks and it would all be over.

And I was done. The race organiser was standing at the finish line and I don’t think he immediately realised I was in the race, he behaved as if he thought I was pacing that guy behind me. I quickly put him right about that! 

It was 24 hours and 42 minutes after I had left Neptune Beach. Night was ending and the beach was beginning to be suffused with a pale blue light. Suddenly I was amazingly tired. Someone gave me a lift to my car. I went into the 7-11 and bought a large coffee and donuts and changed some of my clothes. I took off my socks and was shocked to see my feet were chafed raw in several places, and covered with a red rash. I sat in my car to drink the coffee and then lay down on the back seat, where I dozed a little. Then I drove to my hotel and was very pleased that I was able to check in before 9am. I went straight to bed.

My initial reaction to the race is that 100 miles is just more of the same; it wasn’t a whole new animal after 100 kilometres. It was long, of course, but I was lucky not to go through extra low points due to the distance. My lowest point was approaching the 50 mile mark, but not from a tiredness point of view, more because the aid station seemed elusive. The frequent toilet stops were a huge nuisance to me, especially since I’ve run 50 miles before without using a toilet once!

St Petersburg, Florida

I tried my first run in Florida, here in St Pete's. I was very trepidacious because of the heat and sunshine but I knew I had to do it, so I planned a short 7 km route to the water and back. It was 8.45am when I started and warm and sunny. (I had had several awful experiences running in Florida, firstly at the Miami Marathon in 2012 and then in December 2014 when I (1) went out for a 4 km jog along the beach at Juno Beach and just could not move in the heat and humidity and (2) felt light headed and dizzy running in Key West.)

I headed down towards the town centre and then beyond to the waterfront. I already had shin splints. I hit the waterfront by a huge marina, but once I got past that there was a welcoming green park with a paved trail by the water, and lined by trees. What’s more, there were pelicans, ducks, ibis and herons in the water.

After a few minutes I felt a twinge in my right calf. Not good. It wasn’t a full on strain but it was sore so I stopped and massaged it a bit and then ran on, hoping I wasn’t doing damage. I still had the shin splints and my glutes were tight. I moved along slowly, enjoying the scenery.

On my way home, on a slightly different route, I succeeded, of course, in getting lost. I had been carrying a map in my hand but it had got soggy and completely disintegrated. Rather confusingly I passed a car park which said it was parking for my hotel, but I couldn’t see my hotel; I was quite certain I wasn’t standing outside it! Then I turned back and found where I should have gone, and found my actual hotel. I was completely saturated.

Arctic Frog 50 km, Illinois

Yesterday’s race, Arctic Frog 50 Km in Libertyville, Illinois, turned out to be more fun than I had been expecting. On the website and in various blogs it sounded a fairly boring set of out and backs in a fairly dreary area. I had chosen it because it was near Chicago where I intended to be around that time and there wasn’t anything that sounded better. As I drove to the race area the previous afternoon my lack of excitement was being proved justified: I drove through about the roughest neighbourhoods (still in Chicago) that I have ever driven through, on the worst maintained paved road I have ever driven on, and then once I got into the countryside it was uninspiringly flat and lacking in features. I stayed at a Motel 6 on the highway with just a couple of small malls nearby.

On race morning I drove into Independence Grove for the race start. (I was amazed at the volume of traffic on the road early on a Saturday morning.) It turned out to be a park of lakes and low hills. There was quite a crowd at the race, well over 100 in the 50 km plus some shorted distances.

The race route (25 km to be done twice) comprised a short run around the edge of a couple of lakes (lots of ducks and geese) then two out and backs from a well supplied aid station, then a continuation around the lakes with another out and back, and a mile to the finish on a ridge above  the lakes. It was well thought out because the out and backs never seemed tedious and they each featured different terrain.

It was warmer than the website had predicted back when I entered (they had said there was likely to be snow on the ground), and I decided to run in shorts for the first time on this trip, with a short sleeved shirt and my light jacket. I also wore beanie and gloves but I took them off soon.

The start by the lakes in the early morning misty light was nice and on a paved trail, and then we embarked on the first out and back which went into the woods and was on a dirt trail. We crossed a pretty creek and there were more little waterways among the trees. The trees were completely bare. The path was winding and flat and lots of bike riders were using it too.

I don’t know how far it was to the turnaround, but at that point I had been going for over 30 minutes so I decided on my first walking break. This race was intended to allow me a tryout of my strategy for next weekend's long effort, and I had decided to walk 200 paces every 3 miles. I learned a lesson at the JFK where I felt I got into trouble: if the race is flat I won’t do any walking unless I make a positive decision to do this, but I can’t possibly run the whole way without suffering and slowing in the later stages. I had hardly walked at all on the JFK until at least 35 miles, when I realised that my lack of walking was not a good idea and I had to make myself walk from time to time. I knew I could run 50 km since I can run a marathon, but I know I can’t run 100 miles. 

So I walked my 200 paces and a whole bunch of runners flooded past. I knew this didn’t matter, but that doesn’t mean I liked it.

At the 'hub' aid station we started on the second out and back. This was the longest one, taking us through farmland, crossing a couple of roads and undulating over several hills. You could see the trail snaking away far into the distance. It was a little windy here but nothing like what I’d had in Chicago and Minneapolis. Of course I made excuses not to take my walking breaks; I split them into 100 paces and then somehow stopped taking them. I just can’t do a race as a practice run!

Back after the hub aid station again we returned to the lakes, crossing the nice creek again, and then went into another patch of woods for a shorter out and back. The field had stretched out a lot by then. After this we headed for the start/finish area, and embarked on the second loop. I was still feeling pretty good and I discarded my jacket.

The second loop was more lonely as so many runners on the first loop were doing the 25 km distance. I focussed on trying to pass runners ahead of me and I was rewarded; at so many races  many mid-pack runners go out too fast. However I was amazed how my memory of the out and backs, done so recently, let me down. I was waiting for landmarks that seemed further than I remembered, especially on the longer out and back. I took one final walking break. I was very focussed on a runner ahead of me who I thought was probably in my age group, but I never managed to catch her.

It was great to reach the last out and back and then head for the finish. I did 5:30:33 which I am pleased with. It's an improvement on recent 50 km's I’ve done. There were pizza boxes lying around at the finish but the pizza was all gone. I got a bowl of chilli which was nice, but that too was running out, although half the 50 km field was still out there.

I went into the visitor centre and learnt about the history of the lakes: they were manmade on the site of a sand and gravel quarry as recently as 1997. So I felt vindicated in my assessment of the area before the race. But they had done a good job with creating an environment for runners and bikers.

Minneapolis

Last year I came to Minneapolis because it sounded such a nice city for running, but then the way my trip worked out I didn’t get to run here. So I came back this year and got to do that running.

I am staying in St Paul so the first day I decided just to go for what I intended to be a short run along the Mississippi. I set out and almost immediately faced a series of detours which meant I couldn’t access the river bank. So I kept going until I could run along the river. The river is wide here but not especially interesting, maybe because it is winter or maybe because the trail was next to a major road. Anyway, I kept going until I reached a small lake, ran the length of the lake and turned back. I had been going directly into the wind on the way out so I thought turning back would be nice. It was certainly easier going but I had run quite a long way and I was tired. I did over 19 kilometres all up.

Yesterday I took train and bus to do the run I really wanted to do, around three lakes in Minneapolis which are on the Twin Cities Marathon route. It took ages to get to the start and then I had to locate the first lake, but it turned out a very enjoyable run. The weather was frigid and I was glad of my beanie, long sleeved top and jacket and gloves. 

I started out running around Lake of the Isles, which was almost completely frozen. The vegetation was all brown and the islands were flat and uninspiring, but there were nice houses around the lake. I inadvertently started on a second tour of the lake before I noticed I was going where I had gone already, then turned back to find the way to Lake Calhoun, the largest of the three lakes I was visiting. 

Lake of the Isles

Lake Calhoun wasn’t frozen and the wind was whipping up the surface. The lake was round, unlike Lake of the Isles which has several fingers. There were a few patches of ducks. At the far end of the lake I found the trail up and over to Lake Harriet, another round lake, also not frozen. 

The lakeside running was good and there were other runners and walkers. Everyone was really rugged up. I had briefly removed my beanie and gloves but I soon had to reinstate them as the wind was very cold. I think they must get quite a crowd here in summer; there were strict rules for where to ride your bike (including which direction to go) and where to run.

From Lake Harriet I returned to finish my loop of Lake Calhoun. This is near the airport and planes were flying over very low. Then I returned to the first lake and followed the Midtown Greenway back to my bus stop. Americans seem to like these long straight greenways, I guess because there's no traffic, but I find them monotonous and I’m glad I didn’t have to stay on this one for long. About 17 kilometres for the day.

Today I returned to Lake of the Isles (which wasn’t frozen today apart from a few small patches) and ran partially around, then detoured over to Cedar Lake. This lake was far less popular with runners and walkers but was pretty. It had woods all around and a few sandy beaches, but this was not beach weather! Although it was warmer than yesterday and I could roll up my sleeves in the sunshine.

The trail

Parts of the trail were not paved and I enjoyed that. Then, as is my custom, I lost my way and wondered why the downtown skyline seemed to be getting close. I refound the lakeside trail and all was fine, until I had to run along a dead straight path alongside a railway line. This was, however, the correct route. I finished my lap of Lake of the Isles and I was done. About 12 kilometres today.

Chicago lakefront

I’ve been for two runs along the lakefront in Chicago on two beautiful clear days. Yesterday I ran south, which I think is the nicer direction to head from the city as you get to cross Grant Park and it is not as bleak as heading north.  Both days it was windy but while running I was completely protected from the wind. It wasn’t even all that cold.

So yesterday I retraced some of the Turkey Trot but continued past the museum, aquarium and planetarium where you can run right next to the water. From along here are good views of the city skyline, looking back. It was 8am but not many people were about. I continued on past a little beach and into some scrub. Actually the trail had a sign saying it was closed, and further on even a barricade, but I ignored these as I could see where the trail ended at a bridge. Inland I think there was some kind of scrap metal junk yard, a cemetery and nothing at all scenic. 

I turned back at the bridge and returned to Grant Park. On the way back I saw a few runners. At the top end of Grant Park I stayed by the lake and picked up the Riverwalk, so I could get back to my hotel without having to go on any roads. 12 kilometres all up.

Today I took the Riverwalk to Navy Pier, which involved an underpass. I was following someone and ended up running part way down the pier, which I had not intended, so I turned back and found my way onto the Lakefront trail again. On this side of the city the trail was wide, with two lanes for bikes and two lanes for runners, and there were plenty of runners. The trail was by the sandy lake shore, but alongside a busy road on the other side. You could see ahead a long way. It was kind of bleak, flat and quite honestly a bit disappointing.

I enjoyed passing some flocks of geese who were chomping away happily on the grass. They looked up occasionally but were very intent on their feeding. I kept going until my designated turnaround by a small cafe and park, then headed back. The views of the city were good.

Then I got confused coming back into the city. I wanted to avoid the underpass and I managed to do so but I inadvertently did some extra distance. I ended up by what I thought was the river but it was just a dead end. Eventually I found the Riverwalk and got back, same distance as yesterday.

Chicago Turkey Trot

At last an age group first place!

I had fun at the Grant Park Turkey Trot 5 km in Chicago this morning. I jogged slowly to the race start and got there very early because I was worried about check-in queues. It didn’t seem too cold to me, dressed in tights, long sleeves and my new jacket (which is so flimsy it looks like it would do nothing but is actually very wind proof). When I got there, having had trouble finding the right place because they were not yet set up, there were certainly no queues and I registered immediately. I got an XS size fleece as my race swag, which looked as though it might fit me, in contrast with the ridiculous things I have got at previous races on this trip.

I walked around the park in the hour I had to wait until the start. It was freezing. The wind was icy and I couldn’t find a way to get out of it. I walked by the lake, eyeing up the ducks, and wandered through some groves of bare trees. By the time I returned to the start area it was extremely crowded and the registration queue was extremely long. So was the bag drop queue, and I got even colder standing still so I decided to wrap my jacket around my waist.

The sun came out just before we started and warmed me enough to be able to remove my jacket, having just decided moments before that I would have to keep it on. So I ran with my new fleece and my jacket around my waist - I was all prepared for whatever weather was coming during my five kilometres!

I ran as fast as I could and made a conscious effort not to slack off. I picked out people ahead of me and tried to keep up with them. As you’d expect in a race like this, lots of people set out very fast and soon came to a halt but there were also some good runners. We sort of looped around the wintry park and then ran by the lake exactly where I had walked. There wasn’t much to look at. 

I wasn’t overjoyed with my time because I thought I could run faster, I expected to at least break 25 minutes but I finished in 26:08. Well, it was good enough for first place and I was near the front of the field so I shouldn’t complain.

At the finish we were given a cinnamon scroll, and then you could get free beer. I’ve never drunk beer before 10am before. As soon as I stopped running I was cold so I was glad of the two extra layers. I sat on the grass and watched people finishing. There were only a few runners dressed up as turkeys (and I saw one chef). 

Run for the Diamonds 9 Mile race, Berwick, PA

I was looking forward to this 9 mile race in Berwick, Pennsylvania with 1500 or so runners. It’s been going since 1908, always on Thanksgiving, and for a long time it was called the Berwick Marathon, apparently because one year the organiser noticed that this was the name given to important races!

It was cold, just above zero at breakfast time and I was in a real dilemma what to wear: I thought I should wear shorts because I get hot so easily and the photos from prior years showed many runners in shorts, but I spoke to some people at breakfast who thought it was colder this year and that most runners would wear tights. I decided on shorts and my calf sleeves. But when I got to Berwick and walked around a bit I decided to change into knee-length leggings and no calf sleeves.

We got going in the main street at 10.30. I wore my sweatshirt until the last minute and left it on the step outside a shop, not expecting to see it again, but it was waiting for me after I finished. The route was crowded at first and flat for the first mile. I was waiting for the hill I had heard about but we started with a downhill.

After a mile we started climbing. It was gradual at first but many in the field slowed down or walked. I liked the grade and even when it got steeper I was enjoying the run. I hadn’t run a step since the JFK last Saturday. I felt early on that I had made the wrong clothing choice as I warmed up quickly but later on I was glad of my leggings. It wasn’t much above freezing but it was a lovely clear day. I took off my beanie and gloves after only a few miles. We were out in rural Pennsylvania where everything looked wintry. Farmhouses, trees, horses, ponds and hills. There were loads of spectators, all very enthusiastically wishing us Happy Thanksgiving, and many were already drinking beer.

The climb was fun because it didn’t get too steep. Just before the top was a short sharp downhill; I wanted to ask someone near me if we had passed the top but I didn’t, and we hadn’t. But the top came soon, at mile 5, and the downhill was great: gradual and winding. I had expected lots of runners to pass me on the way down but this didn’t happen.

We came back into town and I could see the stop light which heralded the finish line from some way away. There had been a clock at the 8 mile marker and based on this I hoped to beat 85 minutes; initially I had hoped to beat 90 minutes but I saw from the clock I was doing better than I had anticipated. So I picked up my pace and I passed some people I had been following the whole way. 

The finish line announcer was staying at my hotel and I had been chatting to him at breakfast, so when he called out my name he gave me a special mention as Australian. I finished in 85:03 on the clock but this came down to 84:43 for chip time (I had started quite far back, which was also why I had been able to pass people) so I was satisfied. Unfortunately I only got 4th in my age group which meant no award - the younger age groups had awards five deep but mine only went to three. They gave us pizza at the finish.

JFK 50 Mile, Maryland, USA

Some races give you a chance to understand why you do all that hard training!

I didn’t come into this race in the best of spirits. I had arrived in New York on the Thursday evening for the Saturday race. On Friday I took the train to Baltimore then drove to Hagerstown, Maryland near the race start. I found the traffic terrifying and every time I tried to reach somewhere I wanted to go I seemed to take the wrong turn and have an awful time rectifying this. I even had to go to Maccas so I could use their wifi to get directions. Honest. 

And then my luggage hadn’t made it to NY with me, it was still in Melbourne, so at 5.30pm the evening before the race I was still buying shoes and clothes to run in. I was lucky to be able to find the same model of shoe that I usually wear (there's globalisation for you), and I got a light jacket, tights for the cold and the same shorts I usually wear. I had been wearing a a T shirt for the past two days so I thought I could run in it too.

I couldn't sleep on Friday night; I tried but I felt wide awake, and what amazed me was that when I got up on Saturday morning at 5am I felt completely normal. Must have been the jet lag, because on top of this I had woken up for the day at 3am on Friday. (So by the time I fell asleep around 10pm on Saturday night I had been awake for a very long time.)

I followed a long line of cars to the race parking in Boonsboro and parked in one of many parking lots, hoping I would be able to locate my car afterwards. With about 800 runners there was quite a crowd. We walked in convoy a mile to the race start in the main street, and started at 6.30am. I wasn’t sure where exactly I crossed the start line. It was really windy and the wind was icy but I thought it would be ok once we got into the woods. 

The first few miles were mainly uphill on a road. I felt a bit odd and it took a while to get used to this idea of running. Then we turned onto the Appalachian Trail, into the woods. It was real autumnal weather, that pale almost hazy light and overcast. The was an awful lot of leaf litter which disguised the big rocks and roots well so there was constant risk of tripping. Runners were commenting about poor upkeep of the trail. There were several climbs which I mainly managed to run.

The rocks got a lot worse and I had to go really carefully,  but I knew this was the worst part of the day for trail roughness. There were some steep downhills and lots of bottlenecks developed. Then it started raining. This made the rocks slippery and I was constantly sliding slightly as I put my foot down. A few people fell. They had first aid marshals along the course and when I saw one in the distance I knew I was coming to a hard patch. The marshals looked very cold. 

We were running along a ridge top but there were very few viewpoints. I could hear trains from somewhere that sounded close. As we came to the end of the trail section of the race after 15 miles there was a long and steep downhill with lots of switchbacks. We progressed down slowly in a long line. At the bottom was an aid station and just before reaching it I went to the toilet. As I came out of the toilet I saw masses of runners going by and I sort of regretted how many places I would have lost. But then, after the aid station, we had to cross the railway line and there was a train going by with an endless number of wagons. About 50 runners were waiting to cross the tracks, so I had timed my toilet stop well.

The aid stations had mainly sweet things including peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which I normally love. However after several stops to eat these I noticed that they came out of packets - prepackaged PB&J. That’s taking a good homemade food and removing the feelgood part. Although, to be fair, everything else was packaged.

As we headed out to run slightly over 26 miles on the C and O (Chesapeake and Ohio) canal towpath everyone picked up the pace. It felt so good to be on smooth ground. Runners flooded past me even though I was clearly myself running too fast. We weren’t even half way and I was feeling very tired.

Nobody had told me that the canal isn’t there any more, there's now just the towpath which is a recreation trail beside the Potomac River. I had thought we were going to run by both a canal and a river, so I felt shortchanged. The river was good and wide, brownish with many patches of small rapids, but no pleasure craft on the water and no water birds. The rain had stopped as I came off the Appalachian Trail but it soon started again. I had taken off my jacket and was just running in a T shirt because I had drawn the line yesterday at purchasing yet another technical running shirt (who runs races in cotton T shirts these days?) but it didn’t feel unpleasant. The aid stations were very frequent at first and I had a group of runners I was running among. 

Actually I wasn’t feeling good at all. The running seemed monotonous even though it was pretty with the autumnal trees and the wide river. We had a nice view of Harpers Ferry across the river and there were isolated houses on the river banks, plus many picnic areas, and some high rocky bluffs. And a few locks to cross and big bridges to look at. 

I was running out of steam with a long way to go. I kept reminding myself I had done all that training and I knew I didn’t want to waste it. I had listened to a podcast only the previous day where a researcher said that (1) sleep deprivation only has an effect on perceived fatigue and not on actual fatigue and that (2) 25% of fatigue is just your brain telling you that you are tired rather than really being tired; so I took these findings on board and spoke to myself firmly about ignoring this notion that I could be tired. It was going to be a hard day but I would make it through.

My watch had stopped working at 8am so I had no idea how I was doing for time. I could have asked people but I didn’t. Part of the fun was not knowing, but I definitely wanted to go under 12 hours because that’s a qualification time for lots of longer events. We had been told that if we reached the end of the canal towpath, 41 miles in, after 3pm we would have to wear a reflective vest for the rest of the race. So I knew that if I were handed a vest it would be after 3pm.

I got my vest and started on the road section of the race. There was immediately a big hill. It was surprisingly welcome as a change from the flatness. The route continued to undulate but with a certain amount of nice downhill. I was moving at a crawl by now but I was still moving. Ahead of me was a line of vest-clad people whom I intended to pick off before he finish. It was farmland here, cornfields and some paddocks with black cows, and still overcast. I wasn’t sure what time it would get dark but I knew it would be pitch black by 6.30pm; with full daylight at this point I felt confident I could finish this thing under 12 hours.

I counted down the miles as we came slowly into the town of Williamsburg. The light was fading fast. I told myself I was not allowed to stop running (you could hardly call it running but it wasn’t walking). I was still able to pass one or two people. We had to navigate a long stretch of roadworks; there were police cars parked along here to protect us but if it hadn’t been for the runners I could see ahead of me I would have had no idea where to go. 

Eventually a marshal told me the finish was at the top of the hill I had just started up. He didn’t tell me the hill had a false summit and a long gradual half mile climb. But I could hear finishers being announced and finally it was my turn. I only saw the clock about ten seconds before the finish, but I was delighted to see I had gone under 10 1/2 hours. Shocked, really. I had done 10:29:09 which was fantastic.

I went inside for food and warmth. I ate a pulled pork roll and pizza and hamstered M&Ms for later.  I felt awful but elated. When I went outside again it was completely dark and very much colder so I was grateful to have finished. A school bus took us back to the parking lots and I managed to find my car. Then I went straight to bed.