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.

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.

Oaxaca Race Review - Yo Creo 5K & 10K

Today marked the first edition of the Yo Creo (I Believe) 5K and 10K race in the city of Oaxaca. The event is held in Llano Park in the north part of central Oaxaca. Plenty of local races run from Llano on Sunday mornings, a well established tradition in this highland cultural mecca that supports a thriving running scene.

Just as in the U.S., the first edition of any race is approached with caution. Running a smooth road race benefits from an experienced runners perspective. I give the Yo Creo team pretty good marks for a first race, with one major caveat. This Grumpy Runner prefers an actual PORTA-POTTY to a sneaky surreptitious pee on a large bush in a side street.

Some 350 or so folks line up to run, with both the 5K and 10K races starting together. A bit of a small field for a Llano Park Sunday run. They coulda done more promotion, and offered prize money. The race is a fundraiser for a local kids charity, so I reckon they did what they could to drive a crowd to the event and raise some pesos.

The Grumpy Runner trying to relax and focus.

The last race I ran at Llano was a mere three weeks back on the same 5K loop course, but there was prize money that day. The field was at least twice as large and attracted a compliment of the local Kenyans, who live cheaply and train at Mexico's altitude.

This course I enjoy. It's a loop heading south into Oaxaca's "Centro" on Juarez, then it cuts across Calle Independencia and heads north on Pino Suarez. It heads into Oaxaca's Reforma neighborhood before turning back to the Centro to complete each 5K loop. Realize, at Oaxaca's 5000 ft. altitude, it can be a challenge. The beauty of the course over 10K (my distance today) is that mile 2 and mile 5 are gradual uphills. It gets your attention, especially on loop 2.

Good cheer prevails. The medium size crowd is pretty mellow, filing to the start area gradually. The starting line is framed by costumed clowns, Batman, Spiderman and (Broomhilda?!) all on stilts. We're off pretty clean, albeit a few minutes late, and I tell myself, wait. As in, do not go too fast. I have a decent head of steam up, feeling good, but want to save my energy for loop two and the last mile of the race. I'm in decent shape, if not killer shape. Let's be cautious.

The Yo Creo 5K & 10K race swag. An over designed technical shirt and finishers medal. Not bad for 150 pesos (about $11.50 U.S). The race was not chip timed.

The incline into Reforma starts with the second mile. It's a bit of work but I chant Wait, wait, wait in rhythm with my breathing. Feeling good. I'm having a good race. Not a great race, but solid.
We turn back towards the Centro at mile 3, okay it's mildly downhill and this is good. I still chant: Wait.

This kid passes me. Slim fellow, 18 or 20 years old, with a beautiful smooth stride. I'm not racing (yet), keeping my own council, I let him go by. Looking at him, I wonder why the super tight biker shorts and equally form fitting technical T-Shirt? The super smooth runner in his fasionista sports gear. Fine.

He slows from his surge. I catch up. Running next to me, he forces me into the street which has traffic on it. Cars way too close. I drop back and give him a meter. Now I'm on his inside as he slows again and he forces me over towards the parked cars. The aggressive stuff continues for a quarter mile. I'm keeping my own pace, maintaining a rhythm as best I can, but Fashion Lad is messing with me. Why, who knows. I pull in front of the guy and cut him off, how do you like it pal?

I make a point of keeping my distance. We approach the 5K mark (one loop), Fashion Lad puts on a wee little kick, I think "He's running the 5K" He gets a gap on me, and claps for himself and waves his hands in the air and cheers a bit. Why not?

Yes I am surprised that Fashion Lad DOES NOT stop at the finish line, continuing on for loop 2 and the 10K. The guy gaps me now and I'm happy. He can't mess with me when he's 40 meters up on me. Meanwhile, I keep my mantra rolling WAIT - WAIT - WAIT in rhythm with my breathing. I pass the 5K, I'm chomping at the bit, I want to ramp it up, but stick to my plan. Wait for the 5th mile uphill. It's the crucible of this particular 10K course.

Just as the 5th mile starts, I'm catching this guy a bit younger than I (I'm mid/late 50s) who has a big frame. He's wheezing like a draft horse. We go to cross the Calle Ninos Heroes, a.k.a. the Pan American Highway, which separates the Centro from the Reforma neighborhoods. The cops fail to stop a bus in time, and Draft Horse guy has to stop for a second -- I whiz by him as the bus goes on, while I'm yelling and gesturing at another car to stop. Hey race director! Straighten this crap out. The grumpy runner does not want to die running your race. Thanks.

I press into Reforma uphill, keeping a jaunty rhythm. My chant changes to RE-LAX-A-TION repeated every four strides. Focus on form and leg turnover. Draft Horse guy is wheezing like you never heard, issues fluids from his nose and mouth as he goes. He tucks in behind me and sticks like glue. I'm not racing yet, not trying to drop him. Simply going medium hard up the damn hill, albeit as relaxed as I can muster. Not like the blind pain type of race rhythm where you know you can keep rolling somehow, more like "This ain't easy but I can do it".

Draft Horse guy and I encourage each other. Talk back and forth a bit. Honestly we help each other take measure of that long incline. It's not that steep, just hella long. We turn at the top and Draft Horse lets go. I admire the hell out of that guy. He's a brick house and he's taking it to the wall over 10K. I'm impressed.

I catch up with a couple younger dudes at the turnaround, late 20s early 30s guys. I pass one and he surges back.  A mile to go and these two guys start racing. I stick to them for a bit but decide to go with my relaxation chant and focus on leg turnover. They're up 20 meters on me in no time but they stay there.

My chant is working out pretty good. At half a mile to go, I'm rolling with it, in touch with my body. I'm up on the two younger dudes, notching it up and easing by them. OK BOYS, NOW I'M RACING! It's fun as hell but I'm starting to redline, to hurt pretty good, when I notice, Fashion Lad is right here 30 meters in front of me! Oh, I own you now, Fashion Lad.

He got up on me over mile 4 up the hill, maybe 60 - 70 meters. I  give him props, working that hill so well with that smooth stride. But now we have 300 meters to go, and he's only 20 meters up on me. Seriously redlining, but I know I have a burst in me.

WAIT! The call returns. Don't sprint yet. I'm reeling this kid in, with about 80-90 meters to run it's GO TIME. I open it up and rush past Fashion Boy as he let's out an odd questioning grunt, sort of "how dare you!" - I'd like to say I hit a smooth, rhythmical sprint, but it's more a clumsy open middle distance stride, a grab at the finish line, limbs flailing in a herky-jerky rhythm. It feels great and I am pretty darn whipped at the finish.

I hit 50:01, slow as hell. Oh well, I'm the age I am, it's at mile high altitude and the course (I've measured it) is 160 meters too long. I'll take it!

Steve Lafler, The Grumpy Runner.

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Racing: Did I Fight For It?

Quick thought on racing.

OK, I'm 57 years old. I'm not gonna win races or get PRs at this stage of the game. Yet I still love to race and compete.

I suppose I'm mostly competing with myself; my basic idea is to pace myself wisely, put my best foot forward. Generally, I try to run negative splits in a race for the overall best result. If there are other runners around over the closing stages of the race, I do get competitive.

Bottom line, I want to walk away feeling like I fought for the best possible run I could have that day. It might mean surging to get away from a group of runners with a mile to go, or simply maintaining rhythm when my goose is clearly cooked. On a few glorious occasions, it means burning through the last few miles effortlessly, picking up the pace the whole time.

Should I get to the finish line having worked out how to parcel out my energy well, I'm pretty pumped. Never mind that my pace in a 10K race now would have been an easy day for me up until just a few years ago, a true blue runner never stops chasing that dream and never gives up. And that is plenty enough.

To the Top, Lads

Just returned from a trip to the top of the mountain ridge framing the city of Oaxaca to the north. Richard, his three dogs and I ran more than 11 miles door to door.

It was a run, but indeed it included bits of walking up pitched inclines; we start the run at about 5000 feet and crested the ridge a bit over 6000. I was working very hard indeed as we neared the ridge line.

I felt "average" today. Not great, but not flat either. It was a damn hard run/walk of just over two hours. It was money into the fitness bank, but the best part was looking at both the city of Oaxaca and the Etla valley from our perch on the ridge, just stunning views on a gorgeous morning.

I feel ready to race any distance from 5K to a half marathon, a good feeling indeed. Give me a few interval sessions and I'll be good to go over the 1500/mile too, probably my best distance based on my natural abilities (or lack thereof!)

Fun Run or Badly Organized Event?

This morning I ran the first edition of the Run for International Women's Day in Oaxaca. The turnout was grand for this race honoring women, and it was a beautiful day. Well over 500 runners lined up for the start. The route went from the cathedral by the Zocalo (town center), it was generally well organized and even started on time, rare in Oaxaca.

I ran the 10K, with a goal to simply finish as I'm a bit under the weather. I did finish, so I was happy with that.

The course was well thought out. It might have even been relatively accurate, two loops around downtown Oaxaca.

Now, I gotta point some stuff out. This was the first edition of this race, generally well done. But here is the problem, there are often "1st annual" editions of races here. Some get to the second edition and most don't.

Problem #1. With groups trying to put on a road race I often see no porta-potties or designated bathroom. In Mexico, you generally have to pay for a public bathroom, and even so many of those are closed on Sunday a.m.
Runners greatly appreciate easy access to facilities before a run. I've actually skipped races due to lack of bathrooms in this town.

Problem #2. Keep traffic, and especially buses, off the race route. It's enough to be running as hard as you can without getting hit by horrible bus fumes. The cops did a fine job keeping intersections clear. But get the buses out of there. It gets done at well organized events.

Problem #3. Have beverages/oranges/water at the finish! Don't expect 600 or more people to run a race without giving them something to drink at the end. This is inexcusable.

While I salute the enthusiasm of various Oaxaca groups for the sport of running, I encourage attention to a few details to greatly improve the quality of local events.