Hey fellow runners, it's been a ton of fun leading running tours in Oaxaca, Mexico. As of November 2016, the service is on hiatus. I'll be spending most of my time in the states for awhile. I'm still happy to dispense advice on running in Oaxaca.
Cheers,
STEVE
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Sunday, June 5, 2016
I Hit the Wall
Whew, at age 59, a completely new experience in running! This was yesterday:
Headed out for a long run 7:00 a.m. Saturday morning with my friend Richard, the accomplished ultra trail runner, the plan was to cover the half-marathon distance, 21K, and throw in some climbing/altitude gain.
Setting out, I'm not feeling great, but I recall that last week we ran 10 miles and I lagged at the start, yet we went on to a vigorous, quick and very fun run. So I have faith that things will improve.
Our run starts in town at 5000 feet, and after running gradual inclines through the San Felipe del Agua neighborhood, we hit the Libramiento road that marks the shift to serious climbing. Up we go, mixing running with walking. I feel okay, but unsure about my ability of the day to keep going up.
Covering rocky trails, enjoying the cool rainy season morning and gorgeous vistas, the flora changes to pine trees and we approach the 7000 foot mark, and I'm done! I mention that I can't climb more, and should turn back. Richard, who works as a coach, implores me "Don't bail on me now". Silently, I continue up up up.
It's stunning up here, I'm seeing the local mountains from a thrilling new perspective. It's magical, tobala agave are everywhere, the prized wild agave variety that makes sublime mezcal when distilled. I'm in a world of near exhaustion, beyond what a tough race brings, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other. Stuck between determined and resigned.
We hit a wide trail, actually a dirt road, on a high ridge that runs up from the town/region of San Pablo Etla, which we've run into. We're at about 8200 feet in altitude! More than 2500 meters up, a gain in our run/hike of over 3000 feet.
Richard suggests running for a kilometer out and back on the ridge road. Sure, why not? We're here so let's go. My friend is in his element, this is his favorite mountain route and he's delighted to show it to me! This is ultra running nirvana, a wholly different world, but a mere 11 kilometers from Oaxaca City!
Ridge-top out and back loop complete, we return to the pitched trail and begin walking/running down as the terrain allows. I'm doing OK, sort of, and I'm happy to be heading back. But after about 20 minutes, I am aware of a tingling in my solar plexus, it extends slowly to my ears, my hands. Slow down, keep moving, I think.
Very quickly, my entire body humming, vibrating. I feel like I ate a load of magic mushrooms--a few moments of piercing clarity give way to exhaustion. Sit down now!
I breathe deeply and listen to my heart, it's pounding but sounds OK. I'm buzzing and humming, waiting for oxygen equilibrium. Richard comes back and observes I look a bit peaked! I visualize candy bars and feel very stupid for not having any fuel, a banana or apple?
Discussing the situation, he laughs and observes he probably can't carry me down. We agree that on a trek like this, we need to bring a few bites of appropriate food, and that I'm out of fuel as well as altitude sick. At least we had some water!
I've never run a marathon; I've always been curious about this idea of hitting the wall. Now that I've experienced it, I'll say I've learned something--actually a few things!
1. Running more that 2 hours? Bring fuel/food!
2. Trust yourself. If you think you should stop, slow down, or turn around, do it.
3. Don't feel good on a given day? Scale back your workout plan, or take the day off.
After a 10-minute sit, I get enough oxygen in my system and we begin walking down. We pass below 6500 feet, I'm able to resume running. Hitting San Felipe del Agua, we stop in a corner store and knock down a few sips of coke. Thus fueled, a bit of life returns to my legs and we cover the final 2 miles back to town.
What with the hiking, altitude gain (and sitting) thrown in, it's taken 3.5 hours to cover 22 kilometers. I've never run more that 2 hours 5 minutes before. A most interesting day on the run! I think I'll take today off.
Headed out for a long run 7:00 a.m. Saturday morning with my friend Richard, the accomplished ultra trail runner, the plan was to cover the half-marathon distance, 21K, and throw in some climbing/altitude gain.
Setting out, I'm not feeling great, but I recall that last week we ran 10 miles and I lagged at the start, yet we went on to a vigorous, quick and very fun run. So I have faith that things will improve.
Our run starts in town at 5000 feet, and after running gradual inclines through the San Felipe del Agua neighborhood, we hit the Libramiento road that marks the shift to serious climbing. Up we go, mixing running with walking. I feel okay, but unsure about my ability of the day to keep going up.
Covering rocky trails, enjoying the cool rainy season morning and gorgeous vistas, the flora changes to pine trees and we approach the 7000 foot mark, and I'm done! I mention that I can't climb more, and should turn back. Richard, who works as a coach, implores me "Don't bail on me now". Silently, I continue up up up.
It's stunning up here, I'm seeing the local mountains from a thrilling new perspective. It's magical, tobala agave are everywhere, the prized wild agave variety that makes sublime mezcal when distilled. I'm in a world of near exhaustion, beyond what a tough race brings, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other. Stuck between determined and resigned.
We hit a wide trail, actually a dirt road, on a high ridge that runs up from the town/region of San Pablo Etla, which we've run into. We're at about 8200 feet in altitude! More than 2500 meters up, a gain in our run/hike of over 3000 feet.
Richard suggests running for a kilometer out and back on the ridge road. Sure, why not? We're here so let's go. My friend is in his element, this is his favorite mountain route and he's delighted to show it to me! This is ultra running nirvana, a wholly different world, but a mere 11 kilometers from Oaxaca City!
Ridge-top out and back loop complete, we return to the pitched trail and begin walking/running down as the terrain allows. I'm doing OK, sort of, and I'm happy to be heading back. But after about 20 minutes, I am aware of a tingling in my solar plexus, it extends slowly to my ears, my hands. Slow down, keep moving, I think.
Very quickly, my entire body humming, vibrating. I feel like I ate a load of magic mushrooms--a few moments of piercing clarity give way to exhaustion. Sit down now!
I breathe deeply and listen to my heart, it's pounding but sounds OK. I'm buzzing and humming, waiting for oxygen equilibrium. Richard comes back and observes I look a bit peaked! I visualize candy bars and feel very stupid for not having any fuel, a banana or apple?
Discussing the situation, he laughs and observes he probably can't carry me down. We agree that on a trek like this, we need to bring a few bites of appropriate food, and that I'm out of fuel as well as altitude sick. At least we had some water!
I've never run a marathon; I've always been curious about this idea of hitting the wall. Now that I've experienced it, I'll say I've learned something--actually a few things!
1. Running more that 2 hours? Bring fuel/food!
2. Trust yourself. If you think you should stop, slow down, or turn around, do it.
3. Don't feel good on a given day? Scale back your workout plan, or take the day off.
After a 10-minute sit, I get enough oxygen in my system and we begin walking down. We pass below 6500 feet, I'm able to resume running. Hitting San Felipe del Agua, we stop in a corner store and knock down a few sips of coke. Thus fueled, a bit of life returns to my legs and we cover the final 2 miles back to town.
What with the hiking, altitude gain (and sitting) thrown in, it's taken 3.5 hours to cover 22 kilometers. I've never run more that 2 hours 5 minutes before. A most interesting day on the run! I think I'll take today off.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Test Day!
My friend Richard coaches locally, competitive bikers and runners in Oaxaca. We run together roughly once a week, currently on Saturdays. An ultrarunner and marathoner, Richard has done well in some amazing races such as the infamous Caballo Blanco Ultra and the 100K Ultra Trail Mexico in estado de Hidalgo, where he finished 4th a couple years back. He's already entered in the event for 2016, for September.
We're running this Saturday morning and he suggests throwing a little mountain climb in the run, take it up near the 6000 ft. level (we start at 5000). Okay, well he's started quick today and I'm thinking I don't feel super, so at least we'll walk the climbing part!
It's a bear, but we get up there and start rocketing through trails undulating around precarious ravines. It's wooded up here, sparkling gorgeous from recent rains. Why not bomb through the woods as fast as we can stand it on muddy trails at altitude of a Saturday morning?
My friend gets a good few meters up on me and I put my head down and try to reel him in. I'm going fast, but can make headway only when he slows a bit. Rapidly we descend to more even ground and the run back to town.
Here's the beauty of running hard in the mountain woods. You are slapped into the present! There is no considering the 4 or 6 miles still to go! Just roll in the moment and forget you are tired. Some reserve of energy is there and I do it! You could say I forget the idea that I'm feeling tired, slow or whatever.
Returning to the streets, we're feeling our oats and goose it again. A fast kilometer goes by in a blast of adreneline. Richard actually stops to talk to a friend and I continue on slow, but then he catches up and we run the last K in something like 3:48. Why not? We really hammer the last half mile or so, just for fun.
It could be Richard wanted to run hard, or wanted to test me a bit, or both, but damn that was a shit-kicking 10.3 miles and it leaves me mildly ecstatic!
Funny how running works, I've currently put together a block of 9 weeks of consistent running, but had some off days recently. Putting the pedal to the metal in the woods has me full of running and looking ahead once more.
I've been pointing towards an end of July/early August half marathon in the states. The trick is to find one that works in my schedule.
We're running this Saturday morning and he suggests throwing a little mountain climb in the run, take it up near the 6000 ft. level (we start at 5000). Okay, well he's started quick today and I'm thinking I don't feel super, so at least we'll walk the climbing part!
It's a bear, but we get up there and start rocketing through trails undulating around precarious ravines. It's wooded up here, sparkling gorgeous from recent rains. Why not bomb through the woods as fast as we can stand it on muddy trails at altitude of a Saturday morning?
My friend gets a good few meters up on me and I put my head down and try to reel him in. I'm going fast, but can make headway only when he slows a bit. Rapidly we descend to more even ground and the run back to town.
Here's the beauty of running hard in the mountain woods. You are slapped into the present! There is no considering the 4 or 6 miles still to go! Just roll in the moment and forget you are tired. Some reserve of energy is there and I do it! You could say I forget the idea that I'm feeling tired, slow or whatever.
Returning to the streets, we're feeling our oats and goose it again. A fast kilometer goes by in a blast of adreneline. Richard actually stops to talk to a friend and I continue on slow, but then he catches up and we run the last K in something like 3:48. Why not? We really hammer the last half mile or so, just for fun.
It could be Richard wanted to run hard, or wanted to test me a bit, or both, but damn that was a shit-kicking 10.3 miles and it leaves me mildly ecstatic!
Funny how running works, I've currently put together a block of 9 weeks of consistent running, but had some off days recently. Putting the pedal to the metal in the woods has me full of running and looking ahead once more.
I've been pointing towards an end of July/early August half marathon in the states. The trick is to find one that works in my schedule.
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Oaxaca Renueva Half Marathon
What do us runners really want? The singular sensation of a great run, that's what! It comes in training runs here and there, delivering catharsis, endorphins, and the exhilarating feeling of running free and fast. It happens even less in races, and when it does it leaves you smiling all day, sometimes with the satisfaction of a newly-minted P.R.
So it is on Sunday February 28, as I run the 1st Oaxaca Renueva Half Marathon (there's also a full marathon option). I have one of these elusive great runs, the result of decent training and tapering, and a pinch of luck.
The two races start together a tick past 7:00 a.m. on Calle Independencia, adjacent to Oaxaca's Zocalo. It takes me 17 seconds to cross the starting line in the crush of the crowd, and I have to jog slowly for another couple hundred meters, but pretty soon I hit my pace and realize right away - I feel really good, effortlessly buzzing along.
The field un-bunches, stringing out a bit as we circle the center of town on the Perferico road, and I tell myself "don't make the mistake of going too fast too early." Running south towards the airport on Simbolos Patrios, I take some early sips of water and bide my time.
Forty minutes in we are headed back north by the Plaza Del Valle shopping center. I allow myself to pick it up a bit, I feel good and may as well put out some pace. I'm not too worried about time today. Afterall, the race is at 5000 feet plus, it's about energy flow, not adherence to an exacting pace.
I am amused as usual by the macho of many Oaxacan runners. Near every person I pass puts on a challenge, indeed some even surge ahead as I draw even. Decades of experience has taught me how reckless it is to race in the early stages of a long event, so I don't take the bait, but I do admire the strength and pluck of these runners, if not their overall race savvy.
We approach the hour mark and things get tough on Avenida Ferrocarril. I'm still in a good rhythm, but let's face it, running 13.1 miles as fast as you can is sort of, uh, taxing! Now we are weaving through the barrio of Santa Lucia del Camino, zig-zagging towards the main road called Ninos Heroes de Chapultepec. I'm working hard but doing OK. It dawns on me that I'll likely run a bit under 1:50. Not a P.R., but an improvement on my other altitude half marathon effort, one year back in Oaxaca's (1:50:08). I'm feeling upbeat and bouncy!
Now here's this stocky dude, really built like a fire plug, in front of me again. Clearly a strong, determined runner. Orange singlet and black shorts, maybe 35 or so. He's working it. I've pulled up on him maybe 3 times, and each time he instantly churns away. I'm just running my rhythm, not racing. But I admit, I'd like to beat him. I'm pretty sure he's made toooo many withdrawals from the energy bank, but who knows? He's certainly tough, and fit.
We get to Calle Ninos Heroes, also known as the Carretera Mexico Libro. It's a main east-west divider street between Oaxaca's downtown Centro neighborhood and Colonia Reforma, the upscale shopping district. I'm expecting to turn left into town towards the finish, but no, we must run a mini-loop away from town, then execute a hairpin turn. So we turn right.
Barreling down a short hill before the turn, I note I'm catching the feisty guy in the orange singlet once more. At first, I just think, "he'll sprint again". I catch him at the turn, and with no thought I burst by him and continue hard up the hill. Am I being foolish? No! Here we are, ten miles in, headed uphill for the next half mile, and I suddenly feel fantastic!
Riding a surge of energy, I rip off my bandana with a smile, tuck it into the waistband of my shorts, and blast up the hill with abandon! It's showtime. I'm passing multiple runners here, and suddenly my sometime training companion, the great ultra-runner Richard Stoutner, is in the crowd yelling "Go Lafler!" Well allright!
Now I'm coming down to earth a bit. A young runner easily strides by me and I'm hurting a bit from my burst, but still I'm able to keep up a much faster pace than before and continue to pass many runners. We turn down Calle Benito Juarez to wind our way through the town center to the finish, and things get real tough. Maybe a mile and a half to go. Now we're on cobblestones and the footing is tough when you are tired. A clueless volunteer directs me off the course! I catch the error but lose maybe 5 - 6 seconds with this foolishness.
I'm passed by a young women who I've seen throughout the race when I go off course. I stick with her as best I can, maybe 10 meters back. Focus on getting my mojo back! Onto Calle Morelos and it's feeling tough, but we're still passing others. A slight uphill hurts but gooooood, but I ease by her.
Now a short downhill, scrambling by a pack of dudes. Back onto Independcia for the run for home. Very tough to run now, but I keep picking it up, and the other runners around me seem to really slow down. Five blocks to go, four blocks, passing one more guy here, another there. Three blocks and I pick it up again.
Can I sprint? Ha! Don't really want to! Only if someone comes up on me. But I know they won't. Half a block to go and I put on a burst. I'm only 80th or so overall out of about 400, but from the cheer of the crowd you'd have thought I'd won! Don't you just love Oaxaca?
Turns out I place 10th in the 50 - 59 male category. OK fine. Some 51 year old Kenyan, 2nd overall in the race, wins my division in 1:07:48. How is this possible? Crazy! I suspect he lied about his age for prize money, but it's for certain that he's fast for a geezer!
Me, I stop my clock at 1:45:41. I'm really pumped! I'd done a bit over a minute faster at sea level last summer, but clearly this is a superior run. I really blasted the last 3 miles, meeting out my energy quite nicely. This course was more hilly for sure, and at mile high altitude! I feel that it's worth maybe a 1:41 - 42 at sea level, who knows. It gives me the idea: boost the training and try to break 1:40 at sea level!
One thing for sure, it was a darn fine day of running! Certainly my best race in my 8 years in Oaxaca--My pace per 10K works out to about 49:57, and while I've run faster than that pace over 10K here, I've also gone slower.
I note that my official time in the results posts at 1:45:58, looks like they used gun time instead of chip time for everyone. Well, in truth, Mexican races are a bit less organized than stateside runs. No big deal. The toughest thing today? The damn port-a-potties arrived just minutes before race time! Damn, good thing too, I literally could not have run today without the all-important pre-race potty visit!
So it is on Sunday February 28, as I run the 1st Oaxaca Renueva Half Marathon (there's also a full marathon option). I have one of these elusive great runs, the result of decent training and tapering, and a pinch of luck.
The two races start together a tick past 7:00 a.m. on Calle Independencia, adjacent to Oaxaca's Zocalo. It takes me 17 seconds to cross the starting line in the crush of the crowd, and I have to jog slowly for another couple hundred meters, but pretty soon I hit my pace and realize right away - I feel really good, effortlessly buzzing along.
The field un-bunches, stringing out a bit as we circle the center of town on the Perferico road, and I tell myself "don't make the mistake of going too fast too early." Running south towards the airport on Simbolos Patrios, I take some early sips of water and bide my time.
Forty minutes in we are headed back north by the Plaza Del Valle shopping center. I allow myself to pick it up a bit, I feel good and may as well put out some pace. I'm not too worried about time today. Afterall, the race is at 5000 feet plus, it's about energy flow, not adherence to an exacting pace.
I am amused as usual by the macho of many Oaxacan runners. Near every person I pass puts on a challenge, indeed some even surge ahead as I draw even. Decades of experience has taught me how reckless it is to race in the early stages of a long event, so I don't take the bait, but I do admire the strength and pluck of these runners, if not their overall race savvy.
We approach the hour mark and things get tough on Avenida Ferrocarril. I'm still in a good rhythm, but let's face it, running 13.1 miles as fast as you can is sort of, uh, taxing! Now we are weaving through the barrio of Santa Lucia del Camino, zig-zagging towards the main road called Ninos Heroes de Chapultepec. I'm working hard but doing OK. It dawns on me that I'll likely run a bit under 1:50. Not a P.R., but an improvement on my other altitude half marathon effort, one year back in Oaxaca's (1:50:08). I'm feeling upbeat and bouncy!
Now here's this stocky dude, really built like a fire plug, in front of me again. Clearly a strong, determined runner. Orange singlet and black shorts, maybe 35 or so. He's working it. I've pulled up on him maybe 3 times, and each time he instantly churns away. I'm just running my rhythm, not racing. But I admit, I'd like to beat him. I'm pretty sure he's made toooo many withdrawals from the energy bank, but who knows? He's certainly tough, and fit.
We get to Calle Ninos Heroes, also known as the Carretera Mexico Libro. It's a main east-west divider street between Oaxaca's downtown Centro neighborhood and Colonia Reforma, the upscale shopping district. I'm expecting to turn left into town towards the finish, but no, we must run a mini-loop away from town, then execute a hairpin turn. So we turn right.
Barreling down a short hill before the turn, I note I'm catching the feisty guy in the orange singlet once more. At first, I just think, "he'll sprint again". I catch him at the turn, and with no thought I burst by him and continue hard up the hill. Am I being foolish? No! Here we are, ten miles in, headed uphill for the next half mile, and I suddenly feel fantastic!
Riding a surge of energy, I rip off my bandana with a smile, tuck it into the waistband of my shorts, and blast up the hill with abandon! It's showtime. I'm passing multiple runners here, and suddenly my sometime training companion, the great ultra-runner Richard Stoutner, is in the crowd yelling "Go Lafler!" Well allright!
Now I'm coming down to earth a bit. A young runner easily strides by me and I'm hurting a bit from my burst, but still I'm able to keep up a much faster pace than before and continue to pass many runners. We turn down Calle Benito Juarez to wind our way through the town center to the finish, and things get real tough. Maybe a mile and a half to go. Now we're on cobblestones and the footing is tough when you are tired. A clueless volunteer directs me off the course! I catch the error but lose maybe 5 - 6 seconds with this foolishness.
I'm passed by a young women who I've seen throughout the race when I go off course. I stick with her as best I can, maybe 10 meters back. Focus on getting my mojo back! Onto Calle Morelos and it's feeling tough, but we're still passing others. A slight uphill hurts but gooooood, but I ease by her.
Now a short downhill, scrambling by a pack of dudes. Back onto Independcia for the run for home. Very tough to run now, but I keep picking it up, and the other runners around me seem to really slow down. Five blocks to go, four blocks, passing one more guy here, another there. Three blocks and I pick it up again.
Can I sprint? Ha! Don't really want to! Only if someone comes up on me. But I know they won't. Half a block to go and I put on a burst. I'm only 80th or so overall out of about 400, but from the cheer of the crowd you'd have thought I'd won! Don't you just love Oaxaca?
Turns out I place 10th in the 50 - 59 male category. OK fine. Some 51 year old Kenyan, 2nd overall in the race, wins my division in 1:07:48. How is this possible? Crazy! I suspect he lied about his age for prize money, but it's for certain that he's fast for a geezer!
Me, I stop my clock at 1:45:41. I'm really pumped! I'd done a bit over a minute faster at sea level last summer, but clearly this is a superior run. I really blasted the last 3 miles, meeting out my energy quite nicely. This course was more hilly for sure, and at mile high altitude! I feel that it's worth maybe a 1:41 - 42 at sea level, who knows. It gives me the idea: boost the training and try to break 1:40 at sea level!
One thing for sure, it was a darn fine day of running! Certainly my best race in my 8 years in Oaxaca--My pace per 10K works out to about 49:57, and while I've run faster than that pace over 10K here, I've also gone slower.
I note that my official time in the results posts at 1:45:58, looks like they used gun time instead of chip time for everyone. Well, in truth, Mexican races are a bit less organized than stateside runs. No big deal. The toughest thing today? The damn port-a-potties arrived just minutes before race time! Damn, good thing too, I literally could not have run today without the all-important pre-race potty visit!
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