You're going to Oaxaca this Christmas! Or you are already here. Welcome to this highland jewel, this cultural mecca in southern Mexico.
Now get your running shoes on and let's go. I provide guided running tours of the best running routes in Oaxaca for a very reasonable fee. Dates are open up to Dec. 20.
Zip me an email to book a tour.
Steve Lafler
a.k.a. The Grumpy Runner
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Sunday, December 7, 2014
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 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 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.
----
Book a Oaxaca Running Tour with the Grumpy Runner.
Email Steve at this link.
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.
----
Book a Oaxaca Running Tour with the Grumpy Runner.
Email Steve at this link.
Friday, November 28, 2014
Return of the Son of Speedwork on the Beach
We've sneaked off to San Agustinillo on the Oaxaca coast for an extended weekend. Sneaked I say, as we've developed a habit of coming here for a week in the winter, so this is an extra beach bump in late November. Actually, we got here just in time for Thanksgiving dinner on the beach after the six hour mountain drive from the city of Oaxaca.
I've loved running fast on the beach since I discovered the flat expanses of sandbar on the bay side of Cape Cod around Eastham and Orleans when I was a teenager. It is exhilarating to notch up the pace to a serious middle distance cadence, zipping across firm wet sand.
Last night we got here at 6:00--the tide was in and I blipped and blooped through soggy sand at a pitched angle and dutifully covered a stretch of beach, but I knew I'd have to catch low tide to really let loose.
This morning at 7:30 the tide was about the same, I warmed up for 14 minutes, again sloggin through wet sand on a sandy slope to the waves. A bit of breakfast and chill time, and I returned to the beach as the heat of the day came on around 10:00 am and it was go time. I peeled off 7 repeats of about 200 meters, slowing increasing the pace to roughly 800 meter race pace. Damn, it's fun to run fast! I felt relaxed and in control, breezing along the surface of flat, packed sand.
For once, I left it at a good point. I sometimes spend all my juice on too many intervals the first day at the beach. Today, I left some gas in the tank for another go at it tomorrow.
I've loved running fast on the beach since I discovered the flat expanses of sandbar on the bay side of Cape Cod around Eastham and Orleans when I was a teenager. It is exhilarating to notch up the pace to a serious middle distance cadence, zipping across firm wet sand.
Last night we got here at 6:00--the tide was in and I blipped and blooped through soggy sand at a pitched angle and dutifully covered a stretch of beach, but I knew I'd have to catch low tide to really let loose.
This morning at 7:30 the tide was about the same, I warmed up for 14 minutes, again sloggin through wet sand on a sandy slope to the waves. A bit of breakfast and chill time, and I returned to the beach as the heat of the day came on around 10:00 am and it was go time. I peeled off 7 repeats of about 200 meters, slowing increasing the pace to roughly 800 meter race pace. Damn, it's fun to run fast! I felt relaxed and in control, breezing along the surface of flat, packed sand.
For once, I left it at a good point. I sometimes spend all my juice on too many intervals the first day at the beach. Today, I left some gas in the tank for another go at it tomorrow.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Boston Running Mecca Redux
I came of age as a runner in the mid 70s in the greater Boston area, the heyday of Bill Rodgers.
Running for Lincoln Sudbury High School, some 19 miles west of Boston, I regularly lined up against a super skinny pit-bull runner from the next town over (Wayland), a kid a year younger than I (but I could never beat him,) Alberto Salazar.
I topped out at 5th in the state in the indoor 1000 yards, an event consigned to the dustbin of obscure running history.
Today I'm visiting the old country (a.k.a. Massachusetts), and I see that the the Boston Globe has an article about Boston once again emerging as a mecca for elite runners. The article sites the BAA (Boston Athletic Association, who run the Boston Marathon) and New Balance as spearheading Boston's running renaissance.
As an old Massachusetts running hand, I applaud this, but as a modern devotee of distance running, I say Show me the altitude! I mean, c'mon, Boston is a sea-level city!
Wait! I have a solution. All you elite Boston runners are hereby invited to the splendor of Oaxaca to train at terrain ranging from 5-7000 feet. C'mon down to my beautiful adopted city and feel the pain! Perfect weather from September to February beckons. You can enjoy the world renowned cuisine of Oaxaca while you run your guts out in the rugged hills. There's still plenty of time to put in significant altitude training blocks in preparation for the challenges of 2015!
Just a thought.
Steve Lafler
Book a Oaxaca Running Tour
Running for Lincoln Sudbury High School, some 19 miles west of Boston, I regularly lined up against a super skinny pit-bull runner from the next town over (Wayland), a kid a year younger than I (but I could never beat him,) Alberto Salazar.
I topped out at 5th in the state in the indoor 1000 yards, an event consigned to the dustbin of obscure running history.
Today I'm visiting the old country (a.k.a. Massachusetts), and I see that the the Boston Globe has an article about Boston once again emerging as a mecca for elite runners. The article sites the BAA (Boston Athletic Association, who run the Boston Marathon) and New Balance as spearheading Boston's running renaissance.
As an old Massachusetts running hand, I applaud this, but as a modern devotee of distance running, I say Show me the altitude! I mean, c'mon, Boston is a sea-level city!
Wait! I have a solution. All you elite Boston runners are hereby invited to the splendor of Oaxaca to train at terrain ranging from 5-7000 feet. C'mon down to my beautiful adopted city and feel the pain! Perfect weather from September to February beckons. You can enjoy the world renowned cuisine of Oaxaca while you run your guts out in the rugged hills. There's still plenty of time to put in significant altitude training blocks in preparation for the challenges of 2015!
Just a thought.
Steve Lafler
Book a Oaxaca Running Tour
Sunday, August 24, 2014
A Super Fun Trail Race
Had a fantastic experience today at a trail race in Oaxaca. It was called the Sanfe trail run (Sanfe, as in Colonia San Felipe.)
Near the La Salle school in the San Felipe Del Agua neighborhood of Oaxaca, the race started where the paved road gave way to dirt, and headed straight up the mountains to the north of Oaxaca.
Perhaps a bit over 200 runners lined up for their choice of an out-and-back course over 8K, 12K or 18K, all run simultaneously. I chose 8K, and started near the back of the pack.
The mob of runners bumped over rolling terrain for the first kilometer or so, then the serious climb from about 5300 feet to 6000 feet began in earnest. I focused on keeping a relaxed rhythm, and was amused to note that many runners were already "racing" on the way up the hill. Why waste the energy, thought I?
As the one of the very few non-Mexicans in the race, I may have provoked some local pride, such as, "here's how you run our hills, guero!". Indeed, the overall level of distance running and racing in Oaxaca is impressive, stacking up well against the fields in Portland, Oregon where I lived prior to Oaxaca.
I took roughly 30 minutes to hit the turnaround point, give or take, quite a slog. As I turned around, I found myself at the back of a pack of 5 runners, young guys gunning the downhill, full of race.
Normally I'd keep my own council, maintain rhythm, run my own race. Today, I got caught up in the fun of competing and went with the pack. We barreled down that hill like no one's business, passing and re-passing each other. I felt full of run, totally into the chase. it was exhilarating! The view of the city of Oaxaca was spectacular from our vantage point, but we kept our eyes on the trail as a spill would mean serious bruising.
I'd moved from 10th up to 7th place before faltering on some minor hills close to the finish. With a couple hundred meters to go, a guy came up on me to battle for 9th place. I could not sprint, but managed to out kick the dude.
I finished in 49 minutes and change. Right around ten minutes per mile. Quite a varied pace in truth, with some uphill portions passing in more like 15 minutes per mile, and no doubt some of the down hill bits in well under 5 minutes per mile.
The day's experience was running and racing at it's best, underlining the thrill of participation for it's own sake.
Steve Lafler
Email me if you'd like to book a running tour in Oaxaca.
Near the La Salle school in the San Felipe Del Agua neighborhood of Oaxaca, the race started where the paved road gave way to dirt, and headed straight up the mountains to the north of Oaxaca.
Perhaps a bit over 200 runners lined up for their choice of an out-and-back course over 8K, 12K or 18K, all run simultaneously. I chose 8K, and started near the back of the pack.
The mob of runners bumped over rolling terrain for the first kilometer or so, then the serious climb from about 5300 feet to 6000 feet began in earnest. I focused on keeping a relaxed rhythm, and was amused to note that many runners were already "racing" on the way up the hill. Why waste the energy, thought I?
As the one of the very few non-Mexicans in the race, I may have provoked some local pride, such as, "here's how you run our hills, guero!". Indeed, the overall level of distance running and racing in Oaxaca is impressive, stacking up well against the fields in Portland, Oregon where I lived prior to Oaxaca.
I took roughly 30 minutes to hit the turnaround point, give or take, quite a slog. As I turned around, I found myself at the back of a pack of 5 runners, young guys gunning the downhill, full of race.
Normally I'd keep my own council, maintain rhythm, run my own race. Today, I got caught up in the fun of competing and went with the pack. We barreled down that hill like no one's business, passing and re-passing each other. I felt full of run, totally into the chase. it was exhilarating! The view of the city of Oaxaca was spectacular from our vantage point, but we kept our eyes on the trail as a spill would mean serious bruising.
I'd moved from 10th up to 7th place before faltering on some minor hills close to the finish. With a couple hundred meters to go, a guy came up on me to battle for 9th place. I could not sprint, but managed to out kick the dude.
I finished in 49 minutes and change. Right around ten minutes per mile. Quite a varied pace in truth, with some uphill portions passing in more like 15 minutes per mile, and no doubt some of the down hill bits in well under 5 minutes per mile.
The day's experience was running and racing at it's best, underlining the thrill of participation for it's own sake.
Steve Lafler
Email me if you'd like to book a running tour in Oaxaca.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Oaxaca Running Tours
For those lucky runners who visit the splendid highland city of
Oaxaca in southern Mexico, the array of running and training experiences
await you.
First (and perhaps foremost), you can enjoy long runs on the roads and trails on the mountainside north of the city proper, enjoying spectacular vistas while running between 5-6000 feet in altitude. Truly hearty souls can opt for longer runs, steeper hills and higher altitudes by simply running further up the mountainside.
For the 5K/10K racer, the Parque El Tequio offers a flat 5K loop with distance markers every 500 meters, ideal for time trials and interval training.
Oaxaca also boasts a lively racing scene, with races from 5K to the half marathon available most weekends. Prize money is often awarded in all age categories, but a word of warning--some darn good runners show up and it's not easy to get on the podium for a payday! The races with the best prize money attract the local contingent of Kenyans who train and race in Oaxaca and other parts of Mexico.
I offer my services as a running guide in Oaxaca at a fee of $300 pesos per hour, plus gas. Drop me an email or call me via my Skype number at 503-213-3671.
Best Regards,
Steve Lafler
First (and perhaps foremost), you can enjoy long runs on the roads and trails on the mountainside north of the city proper, enjoying spectacular vistas while running between 5-6000 feet in altitude. Truly hearty souls can opt for longer runs, steeper hills and higher altitudes by simply running further up the mountainside.
For the 5K/10K racer, the Parque El Tequio offers a flat 5K loop with distance markers every 500 meters, ideal for time trials and interval training.
The author tries his luck at a Oaxaca 5K trail race--6000 feet, here we come!
Oaxaca also boasts a lively racing scene, with races from 5K to the half marathon available most weekends. Prize money is often awarded in all age categories, but a word of warning--some darn good runners show up and it's not easy to get on the podium for a payday! The races with the best prize money attract the local contingent of Kenyans who train and race in Oaxaca and other parts of Mexico.
I offer my services as a running guide in Oaxaca at a fee of $300 pesos per hour, plus gas. Drop me an email or call me via my Skype number at 503-213-3671.
Best Regards,
Steve Lafler
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