New Years Eve Half Marathon - Another PR!

The volunteer from Diablo Valley Runners leading the 1:40 pace group is going too fast! I've targeted the Brazen New Year's Eve half marathon at Quarry Lakes in Fremont for a crack at breaking 1:40, and I know from painful experience that going out fast is sure death.

I'm backing off the pace after 2 miles in 15:03 -- we should be more like 15:16. Bear in mind, at 60 years old this is a jaunty pace for me. If I have any hope of reaching my 1:40 goal, I should run negative splits.  Translation - I want to run the second half of the race faster than the first half.

 Ready to fall off the back of the pack at 2 miles

 - on purpose!

It's not that the pace feels hard - yet. But there is 11 miles to go!
The 1:40 group slowly gains a few yards on me, but after a mile or so I'm keeping the gap even and feeling relaxed.

At the turnaround on this segment of the course, I gulp some gatorade, pretty clumsy and jerky I am, but I get a couple good swigs down. Thinking only relaxation/rhythm, I notice the 1:45 pace group approaching the turnaround. Huh? Why are they this close?! I ratchet my speed up a notch, renewing my commitment to 1:40 pace.

I'd trained really well, averaging just over 40 miles / wk in my buildup, topping out at 54 miles one week. I knew I could dip under 1:40 on a good day, but it would take a smart race. The fly in the ointment, one week prior to race day I come down with a cold and a nasty throat. I rested up, drank ginger tea and gulped Airborne supplements and quelled the cold just in time.

Looking up between the six and seven mile mark, I see that I'm catching the 1:40 group, indeed my pace will lift me past them, but here's another aid station. Again a rather clumsly grab and glug of sports drink, but hell I know I need the fuel to keep my train rolling. I'd run first few half marathons on just water. I do better late in the race drinking eletrolyte beverages.

I re-focus on rhythm and settle in with the pace group, content to draft on them for now.

Feeling cheeky, I pop in front of the 1:40 pace group during mile 9. Maybe I'm ready to make a break! Nope, the pace leader reels me in and I settle back into drafting off the group. He asks how I'm doing, "not bad" says I, but the strain is showing. He allows that anyone who wants to break away might go at the next turnaround, but I'm dubious now!

The asphault trail dips under bridges at points, creating a small downhill/uphill. These tiny uphills are beginning to get difficult. We hit the final turnaround, I down my final gulp of gatorade and get plenty of it all over my shirt.

Now I work hard to keep rhythm. With about 3 miles to go, I reckon I have the strength to maintain pace without cratering. How do I know this? Last year I went out too fast, attempting to run 1:40 and I ran the last 3 miles almost backwards! I crashed and burned. Today, I feel much better. Better training, better pacing, and sports drink!

Meanwhile, the pace group drifts ahead of me again - 40, 50 yards. I work to keep it even with them from there, with some success. But now 1.5 miles to go, they are pulling away.  I'm not falling apart, but I can't pick it up either. I figure, the pace so far insures I have a crack at 1:40, but maybe plus a few seconds rather than breaking it? We cross the bridge over the river to the final loop and I'm pretty toasted.

About 100 yards to go, I gave it everything I had. I sure hope that is a 5k straggler in back of me, not another half marathoner!

The last 3/4 mile or so to the finish, I'm looking for a bit of pace but can't find too much. I keep the rhythm going and man I'm happy to hit the finish line! I cross in 1:40:32. Well hell, I am happy with it. It's a PR by 1:26! 

What the hell? Who's complaining. Also, after feeling pretty sick the prior week, I'm super pumped to have run a fairly smart race and kept my head in it the whole way.

What next? I'm thinking rest a bit, then do another build up with a bit more volume, and have another go at it at the Oakland Half Marathon this March 25th, just after my 61st birthday. I'll run under 1:40 yet!

Tilting Against Cows Above the Irish Sea

A quick report tonight, with an invigorating 10K romp fresh in mind. We're on vacation in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I find out there is a set of runs at the famed “Giants Causeway” (wacky coastal rock formations) for Saturday, on the north coast of Ireland, just over an hour from Belfast city!

We rent a car and set out, getting lost in Belfast while my father-in-law announces his internal dialog about where I should drive. Thanks! We suss it out and soon we're on our way pushing north through the emerald green countryside on a sparkling fall day—brisk, but hardly cold. Perfect running weather!

Arriving in the quaint tourist village of Portballintrae, I find race director Lucy, a harried but friendly (shortish) gal. She'd told me earlier in the week the race was full, but upon noticing my email signature (cartoonist), I'm in! Maybe I'll do the design for the race shirt next year! Meanwhile, I squeak a race entry at the last minute. Thank you, Lucy!

The race finishes at Portballintrae village center, so we'll be bused downwind to the starting line. Runners load up on a few double decker buses for the short drive out to the start at a coastal trail. We exit the buses and take a charming walk, a good kilometer down a country lane through pastures to the start perched above the sea.

The 10K run begins on a small bit of flat, grassy ground next to a coastal trail, perched a couple hundred feet up a cliff above the ocean. I note there is scarce room for the 250 or so runners! To complicate things, Half Marathoners, Marathoners and Ultra runners already en route are on the trail. Did I mention it's generally a one-person-wide trail?! This could get interesting.

And of course it is, right away, as the field bolts from the start for a hill less than 100 meters away, said hill having room for but a single file. So, it's a dash, then a walk. Once over the hill and on the flat, I scramble by runners as I'm able, landing in a hole by the trail, right leg disappearing up to my knee, and going down. At least I fall on long grass, no problem, bounce right up and keep going.

It's a breathtakingly gorgeous day, and spectacular course. We scramble up and down hills on the muddy path above the ocean. Sometimes there are steps to climb. I continue to bolt past other runners when I can. To complicate things, there are plenty of Half Marathoners and Ultra runners who are either walking or running at a crawl, and I whoosh by them as cleanly as possible, often bushwacking through long grass and brambles.

Usually I don't get caught up in racing until the second half of a 10K, but this crazy course on a narrow path has me scrambling and jockeying for position from the get-go. And guess what, it's crazy fun! And I'm ready for it. I've been in Belfast for a few days, not running. So I guess you could say I tapered for the race! And, despite the hills and rough terrain, I've been training at Oaxaca's (Mexico) altitude in mountains, I'm used to keeping a rhythm on crazy terrain, so I can do it today.

Oh, did I mention the cow gates? Four or five times in the race, we run up 3 steps and jump over cow gates. It's fun! Who knew? I get into it. Sort of like a steeplechase. There is a ton of starting/stopping, climbing, rushing by slower runners, it's like a race where you make moves constantly. Man, I'm used to maybe 3 moves tops in a distance race. So I embrace it and focus on rhythm, and it works!

Throughout the run, I manage to keep passing other runners. Most are super slow, running the longer events, they are not in the 10K run group. But I can tell when I catch a 10K participant, they are going a heck of a lot faster. And, some of them fight me off. But today, I am in the groove – not one runner I pass is able to re-pass me!

This makes me bold, giddy, and I take off after one tough looking guy, blue shirt, tall dude. Then we hit the one water station on the course. It's clogged! Stand-abouts everywhere, get the hell offa the course! What a mess! I drink my water and realize there's nowhere to throw the cup out, so I retrace a few steps and hit the trash can. A bit of frustration, we've been implored to not litter. Maybe there shoulda been one more trashcan a few meters after the drink station (minor complaint)?

The blue shirt guy is now 30 meters up on me, and I can't dent his lead too much. Well, we hit a killer downhill. I'm like, WTF, let's go. I bolt down the hill and pull up on him. I'm exhausted, but still full of adrenaline. My altitude training helps me rhythm up. I roll by blue shirt dude. He doesn't fight and I eye the next guy, a good 40 meters up, white shirt, teen dude.

I catch him at the bottom of a hill, another kilometer on, but then he flies up the hill before I can pass. Go kid. Don't let the old guy getcha! We turn at the top and the finish is 50 meters on. Aw hell, no wonder white shirt teenage dude took off! I sprint those last few meters and forget to turn my watch off at the finish. What an exhilarating run! Total fun! I guess I was a couple seconds over 50 minutes, not bad for such a shit-kicking trail run. I'll look up the results when they are posted. I think I was top 15, we'll see.

OK, here I am three weeks later, finally the results were posted. I finished 12th out of 220 runners in 50:27, decent time considering the terrain, fences and scores of slow runners on the one-person-wide path!

I'll be back again for the Causeway Coast races if I can! What a blast!

Want to book a Oaxaca, Mexico running tour? Email Steve!

Summer Breeze Half Marathon, San Leandro CA

Ran the Summer Breeze Half Marathon this past Saturday (Aug. 1), in the "East Bay" right near Oakland, CA, staged by Brazen Racing. What a well-run event it was! Since I'm a grumpy old bastard, I really enjoy a race with a well-marked course, ample porta-potties, an organized start and competent timing/results. All this happened!

And, I got a spectacularly ugly finishers medal, what a score! Note the olde New England type whale in there, hard to beat.

The course is near perfect - a gravel and paved bike/hiking trail along the eastern shore of the San Francisco Bay. Mostly flat with a few rises and a couple foot bridges. Only one tight turn, not including the hair-pin turnaround on the out and back course.

There are mile markers along the way to gauge your progress if you like that kinda thing. As the race name promises, there is a bit of wind off the bay, but it mostly keeps things pleasant, it's only a minor battle into the wind for a few brief moments on the course.

All this is ideal for me-- this being my second half marathon, on a flat, fast sea-level course. Having run a 1:50:08 over a hilly course at the mile-high altitude of Oaxaca some few months back, I have my eye on improving my time here.

I'd trained decently in the weeks and months prior to this run, and tapered a bit in the days before the race. I have the confidence instilled by running mountainous courses in the altitude of Oaxaca. Feeling good after a couple miles just under 16 minutes, I relax and bend into the run. I am going for it. At first, a good number of runners pass me. The further I run, fewer runners get by, and I start picking people off. I mainly keep my own council on pace.

At 5 miles, I'm full of run, but recognize this is serious work. Again, reflecting on months of preparation, I know I can power through. I ride the rhythm through strong patches alternating with tough patches. I consistently hit mile markers at less than 8 minute pace overall, but my actual pace varies from about 7:45 to 8:15.

Passing the 7 and 8 mile markers, I work hard, it feels like a long way to go. A guy drafts up on me and stays behind me. It's a narrow path with runners in both directions, he's keeping the path clear and pressing me from behind.

Finally he draws even and asks "want to work together?" It takes me a few minutes, but I adjust to the tandem run and we help each other a lot, steadily passing stragglers who fall off the pace. I relax and focus on rhythm.

So this guy Duane and I roll on, battling a bit of wind with a mile to go. A third runner glues himself to us. I kick with 300 to go and Duane is there, we cross the line together in 1:44:35. I am pleased! It is nice to keep my own rhythm most of the way, but the cooperation of the final part of the race is a great positive experience. Thanks Duane!

I win my division (55 - 59) and place 42nd out of just over 407 runners. Last year I think they had 700, participation may have been affected by last weekends San Francisco Marathon. Too soon to race so far again in the local scene, I guess.

Enjoyed some good fruit, water and snacks after the race, and I was on my merry way. My only complaint? Where the hell was the promised technical T-Shirt??? I paid 60 clams and didn't get my damn shirt! Nowhere to be found. Oh well, I still loved the event. Well done, Brazen racing!

The Summer Breeze 1/2 caps off a successful visit to El Norte (aka the U.S. of A.) for me in running terms. As part of my training, I throw in a 5000 on the track (no taper!) in 21:39 back on July 7. Modest by most standards, for this vintage runner it's the fastest in 5 - 6 years.

Oh, and I almost forgot to say Happy Birthday Jerry! The run was on Aug. 1, afterall.

Email Steve -- especially if you'd like to set up a Oaxaca running tour!

Anniversary of City of Oaxaca 9.5 K Race Review

May 3, 2015

This morning I ran the Anniversary of the City of Oaxaca 9.5K race, starting at the Plaza de Danza in Oaxaca Centro.

The start was pure vaudeville, and typical for a Oaxaca road race. First the inflatable arc at the start/finish line is blown up. Then it collapses. Then it's up again, reinforced with rope. Collapses again. It's shoved aside, and officials mark the start line with utility tape and runners line up behind it. Over the next few minutes, the unruly mob presses forward. Old ladies, chubbie guys and kids under 10 are all right up front. Some dude appears with a starter pistol, and starts a countdown from ten. The mob has slowly moved about 25 meters onto the course by then, and takes off when the countdown reaches four.

I'd intended to be in about the fourth row of runners, heck I'm fit but I am 58 years old. No need to be right up front. By the time the unruly mob begins to run, I'm back in about the 12th row, behind piles of kids, a stroller, and aforementioned super oldsters and chubby people. I run the first 300 meters or so at maybe a 12 minute mile pace before I settle into my planned sub 8 minute per mile pace.
Why so slow? Well, as said, I'm 58, we are at mile high altitude and I happen to know there is a 2K huge steady uphill at about the 3K mark!

I get to 3K in pretty good order, there's a few ups and downs heading northwest out of town towards the highway to Mexico City, but it's basically flat. I'm setting an honest rhythm, but not killing myself; I'm taking this race as a hard workout, I did not taper for it, I'm at the beginning of training for a Half Marathon in California some 3 months out.

Then the 2K-long hill. I figure I'm gonna buzz by people up this hill by maintaining my rhythm. After all, I train on courses that go from 5000 to 6000 feet and back. But no, we're all training in Oaxaca. I pass maybe 7 people, and about the same number pass me.

We crest the hill a few meters shy of the halfway mark. I'm passing a few, and some smart runners who went out easy are passing me on the down slope. We settle into a groove on the flat, I'm working to relax and get in my flow. Going good, but not racing per se. Some of the people I catch want to race, and I ignore it. Some who go by me are really "making a move", which I also ignore. I'm running near redline but not going into it, working my own rhythm, and I'm not wasting energy varying my pace.

There is a small amount of prize money on the line today, so I guess that ups how competitive people are. I've been racing since age 15 in 1972, I still get competitive, but I see no point in being competitive in the first half of a long distance race! Why waste energy? My ideal these days is to run negative splits, especially if I'm looking to compete. I prefer to run my own pace the first half, establish the right rhythm, then hit the gas in the second half.

Now past halfway, we buzz down the main drag separating the north and south of the city, Ninos Heroes de Chapultepec (aka the Pan American Highway). We hook a right at the baseball stadium, circumnavigating the center of town, heading gently downhill, then take a right on Morelos for a long straight drive to the finish. I'm rolling OK,  but it's an effort with a week of workouts in my legs and no race taper.

I'm playing it a bit conservative, who knows how long this course really is, and where it will take us! I'm still passing a few, while some relative kids continue to pass me. Then I notice a shift, people are picking it up. With a bit of surprise, I see that we're maybe 500 meters out, straight down Morelos, so I pick it up too.

Probably pass about 4-6 runners over the last 400, kicking but not killing it. I finish in 45:22, and I'm happy about it, my goal for this workout/race was 47:30. I can't complain!

The route was good, cars we're kept off the course. But as usual in Oaxaca, the start was a bit the mess. There was no running clock at the finish, no kilometer markers either. There were two good water stations. Nice! I usually don't drink water in a 10K, but I woke up feeling dehydrated so I was happy to drink at both today.

There were oranges, bananas, and gatorade at the finish, along with a free water bottle. Well, that's pretty cool cause the race was free! I didn't get a shirt, but I heard there were some.

I had to split right away to rejoin my family for a Sunday morning outing, so I have no idea what place I was. I'm gonna say somewhere between 100 - 150th place out of roughly 1000 participants. The tracking of results tends to be pretty slipshod locally. In 7 plus years here, I've only seen chip timing used once.

The most impressive thing about racing in Oaxaca is the quality of the fields. People here are born to altitude, always a plus in distance running. This is an area of Mexico with a high amount of indigenous people, they are stocky and strong as hell. Even some folks with a few extra pounds do okay running these races, provided they make the effort to get fit. Before living here, I was in Portland Oregon for two years, and I raced a lot. I got used to winning or being in the top 3 in my age category. That has yet to happen in Oaxaca!

Welcome to the Meatgrinder

Two miles into a run at 5000 plus feet, I turn right off the main trail above Oaxaca city and begin another steep climb, bumping uphill about 300 meters. Cresting the rise, I ease downhill a few strides and jump a stream in a rocky crevice.

Choosing the left fork on the other side of the stream, I begin a two-mile-plus climb via switchbacks through a densely wooded mini-valley on the mountain side, broken up by a couple short, level straightaways.

Close to five miles in, it's fair to say I'm warmed up for the return to civilization as I emerge from the woods. I hit a good rhythm on the rolling, winding trot down an abandoned ridge road with spectacular views of the city of Oaxaca and it's three surrounding mountain valleys. I'm feeling good today, so I can squeeze up the pace over the last couple miles through the cobble stone streets of San Felipe del Agua, a neighborhood just north of Oaxaca Centro.

Drawing by Steve Lafler

Favorite running loops might have bucolic or even poetic names. Or they might simply be named for the runner that laid them out.

Derderian's Loop was a favorite romp through the Western Massachusetts woods in my college days, running for UMass and training in the "Pioneer Valley", part of the Connecticut River watershed. The ten-mile-plus loop revealed it's charms with an explosion of fall color in October, a thick blanket of snow in the winter and a second explosion, this one of mud, in March. It was named for one of my predecessors on the UMass distance squad, one Tom Derderian, who went on to record a 2:19 performance in the 1975 running of the Boston Marathon.

More often, running loops are descriptors of the attributes of the course itself. Again at UMass, we had Lower Ridge, Middle Ridge, and Upper Ridge--the egress and exit to all three loops was the same; you could pick an 8, 11 or 13 mile version. I will mention, the 13 mile Upper Ridge course was rarely run the same way twice; it might just as well turn into a 16 mile run, or indeed you might find yourself up on the ridge, 9 miles in, running out of trail. Blair Witch, meet the UMass cross country squad!

This brings us back to the loop I've run twice in the past three days, "The Meatgrinder", a stretch of running/biking/hiking trail on the south slope of the mountain range just north of the Oaxaca city center, above the San Felipe Del Agua neighborhood.

The Meatgrinder isn't a loop in itself, so much as a secondary trail that hooks up with other established running routes, as per the description at the opening of this piece. I was introduced to this loop last June by local ex-pat marathoners Steve and Richard, very fit guys who relish the chance to test their fitness in the rugged hills around Oaxaca. Both of these gentlemen have recorded marathons of under three hours.

Suffice to say, if you can keep a reasonable rhythm running up "The Meatgrinder" which tops out near the 6000 foot mark, you are in pretty darn good shape!

Steve Lafler

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Grumpy Runner Reviewed on Trip Advisor

Many thanks to Angela G for reviewing my Running Tour service on Tripadvisor! She was in Oaxaca last month with Los Quixotes, a group of medical workers from San Antonio Texas doing pro-bono work in remote areas of Oaxaca. Here's the group at the highest point of our run on the Libramiento above Oaxaca, a no-traffic road that winds through the foothills north of town.
This photo of The Grumpy Runner is courtesy of TripAdvisor