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2017 USATF PA Clarksburg Country Run half marathon race report – Clarksburg, CA

2017 USATF PA Clarksburg Country Run half marathon race report – Clarksburg, CA

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One of the remaining road races on the 2017 PA USATF circuit was the Clarksburg Country Run Half Marathon, a good two+ hour drive from San Jose, and not coincidentally, its timing aligned pretty perfectly with CIM training (three weeks out). My plan was to run the half and use it as some sort of assessment tool in advance of CIM, but life — as it often does — had other plans.

I’ll save the details for another time, but coming into Clarksburg, I felt like I had a lot on my plate and was carrying a lot of bodily stress, for lack of a better term. I’m not injured, nor am I dying, but I had some less-than-desirable results come back from my annual physical that subsequently have created an onslaught of additional follow-up tests. It’s probably nothing, but I’m letting the medical professionals make that diagnosis, not me. It’s scary and a little unnerving, but I’m trying to not get too far ahead of myself.

More than anything, I’ve felt pretty knackered during this marathon training cycle, so my goals and expectations for Clarksburg were minimal. My Clarksburg goal was to get in a solid, supported long run and just to do the best I could on the day. Oh, and historically speaking, half marathons in the thick of marathon training are torturous for me. More often than not, my GI goes to shit (literally); I’m sufficiently whipped from training that I can’t do much better than GMP, if I’m lucky; or some other stupid variable pops up that throws things awry. Since moving to California nearly four years ago, I can think of two half marathons that I’ve run where more things went well than wrong. Half marathons are like a wicked Achilles for me.

Come race morning, I carpooled up north with Lisa (who wasn’t running, as she had just totally rocked NYC the week before) and three of my other teammates, Oscar, Jeff, and Greg. I’d be the only female Wolfpack harrier racing that day, and those guys, plus Tony, Ray, and Mark, would comprise a full male team for us. I overslept my alarm but had luckily woken up with just enough time to get ready — I had just hosted a sleepover for 10 of my first-grade Daisies the night before, so it’s no surprise I slept so deeply Saturday night — and once we got to Clarksburg, it was like we were in a different era: think super small town USA. In one block, I think we passed the town’s elementary school, post office, library, middle school, and high school. 

The race featured other distances as well — a 20 miler (which many people training for CIM, who weren’t racing the half, often do), a kids’ run, and a 5k and 10k. It was a “California crisp” morning — maybe about 40 degrees when we got there to warm-up — and the temps were what you dream of during the hot summer months: a little cool just to be milling around outside but just perfect for running and racing. My teammates and I easily got our bibs, and before too long, Lisa and I set out for a 2 mile warm-up, where we talked strategy, goals, the course, and the like. Running into Jess and Chris — both doing 20 — was a nice bonus.

shamelessly stolen from Chris’ IG. friend, you’ve got something on your face!

As the “Country Run” part of its name suggests, Clarksburg really is a run through the flat countrysides; that’s an accurate race title if there ever were one. There’s not much on either side of the roads you run, save for a winery, a farm, or an open field. The half’s topography was fairly pancake flat, and the course itself was pretty straightforward with just a couple OABs. Each distance started at different times, too, which was a smart way to alleviate potential congestion. As I was finishing my cool-down, I ran into Robin, who was there with a slew of her Impala teammates, all doing the half that morning in prep for CIM. It was wonderful to see her (always is) and to talk about what we wanted to do that day, how we were feeling about our CIM training, and to otherwise talk shop for a bit. Before too long, we were off.

My initial plan was to conservatively begin around 7:15s/7:20s for the first 4 or so miles and then begin to cut down and get closer to HM pace, somewhere in the low 7s or 6:50s. I felt pretty well the first three or four miles and was hitting the prescribed paces fairly well — and chatting with the other Impalas and other runners around me — but as early as mile five, I could tell that things were going to head south; I just knew. Feeling pretty poorly that early in a half marathon kinda (really) sucks, so instead of wallowing, I switched my watchface to show the time of day and decided to run purely on feel for the remainder of the race. Truth be told, when I’m training — and often even during races — I rarely look at my watch (and infrequently see my splits), but I had convinced myself that symbolically (and literally) switching my focus would help me stay out of my head for the next eight miles. I could choose to be pissy and wallow in I can’t hold 7:teens, much less drop down to 7-flats or 6:50s for the next 8 miles, or I could flip my perspective and focus on running as evenly and smoothly as possible, despite feeling pretty sub-par. The rest of the race became less a pity party and more of a game.

LOL at thinking I had managed to sidestep my way out of the team pic mid-run. This was around 3 or 4, IIRC. (PC: Impala Racing IG)

 

somewhere in the first 5 miles, I think. (PC: Lisa)

 

Clarksburg treated us to a beautiful, autumn morning, and the few times I saw my teammates on the OABs, I felt totally inspired by their energy and effort. Somewhere on course, as we changed directions, it felt like we began running into wind tunnel — no doubt exacerbated by my already not feeling great — and I tried to hang near other (taller) runners, again more for the mental game than anything else. By about mile 8 or so, Robin caught up to me, and we had a good time bemoaning the state of our races going less than desirably and running’s general mercurial nature. Together we cheered for our teammates as we approached them on the OABs, and I tried to hang with her as long as possible. By about mile 9, though, my good ol’ stomach was sending me an SOS, so I began to hang back in search of a safe place to drop trou. Like I said, HMs seem to wreak havoc on my GI — and no doubt, being at a sleepover the night/day before and eating stuff outside my usual food repertoire, and being off my colitis medicine for a week-plus because of the aforementioned health issues all didn’t help my case much — but luckily, I was able to quickly get in and out of a porta-potty around mile 10 or 11 and only lose about 70 seconds in the process. I am nothing if not efficient.

somewhere before mile 8; that’s Robin right behind me. (PC: Lisa)

 

smiling and trying to enjoy the ride. even when it doesn’t feel great, we can always smile because we get — not have — to do this stuff. (PC: Lisa)

It’s pretty disappointing to be so close to the finish line (relatively speaking) and have to stop, but when it comes down to either shitting myself or losing time (in a race where nothing is on the line but my pride), I, uh, yeah. I’m gonna spare myself that indignity if I can help it. The good news is that while I still felt pretty knackered, I felt a lot better (understandably!), so I tried to finish the last two miles as strongly as I could and tried to pick people off until the very end. I hadn’t been clock-watching at all the whole race, but I figured that I’d be pretty close to a 1:40 and wanted to try to sneak in under that. Mission accomplished: 1:39:11.

It’s hard not to be disappointed when shit happens (literally, figuratively, whatevs) in races, but it’s part of the game. Every day isn’t going to yield a PR, life-changing performance, and expecting otherwise will set you up to be enormously saddened (or angered) more often than not. I ran a slow-for-me half marathon, but FFS, I still just ran a half marathon for the fun of it, not because anyone was forcing me to, or because it was going to pay my mortgage, or anything like that. I did it because I could, because I wanted to help my team, and because it’s fun, even when it’s not. I’m grateful to be able to do this stuff at all, and I don’t lose sight of that. Sometimes running/racing is great. Other times, it sucks. It’s part of the process. 

with Lisa, captain awesome. fitting that I’m standing near my friends, the outdoor toilets.

By the time everything was said and done, it was a 17-mile day (2 warm-up, 2 cool-down) and a fun morning with my teammates. It was awesome to have Lisa out biking and cheering for us and to celebrate my teammates’ performances, including Greg, who had run his first half ever. The race gave a big post-race spread (none of which appealed to me, unfortunately; it takes me a while to warm-up to food after racing or hard efforts), and soon enough, we were on the road again back to the Bay Area.

the harriers at Clarksburg. L-R that’s Greg, Oscar, Lisa, Tony, and Ray (PC: Wolfpack Running Club IG)

If you’re in the market for a flat and fast half, Clarksburg is an excellent option. The aid stations are about every two miles and are well-supported, and if you’re in the throes of CIM training, the timing of the race really couldn’t be better. Alternatively, if you want longer (20) or shorter distances (5k, 10k, kids’ race), the race can help you out there, too. It doesn’t offer much in the way of crowds or scenery — you’re running through a pretty rural area — but if you enjoy quiet, distraction-free running, it’d be an excellent match. My race wasn’t what I wanted it to be, but I still had a good experience and would recommend it.

And with that, we inch ever-closer to CIM.

2017 Golden Gate Park XC Open (SF, CA) – race report

2017 Golden Gate Park XC Open (SF, CA) – race report

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Another weekend, another race. Gotta love autumn.

This past Sunday, several teammates and I raced in San Francisco, in Golden Gate Park, at the GGP Cross Country open meet. I’ve raced many times in GGP before, but I’ve never run a XC meet there — remember, this type of running and racing is all brand new to me — so I had no idea what to expect. Apparently the organizers had to do a late-minute course change to accommodate some other event that was going on in part of the park where we’d be racing, so all I knew going in was that the race would be a 6k (3.7 miles and change, you’re welcome).

My teammates and I couldn’t have been more delighted to be racing on Sunday during our warm-up and course preview. Karl the Fog was out in force, so thick that we couldn’t really see across the polo field that was the starting/ending/staging area of the race, and the temperature was pretty perfect for racing: cool, crisp, and foggy. During our warm-up miles, Mona, Claire, Lisa, Christina, and I got a decent idea of what we’d be encountering on the course, and it promised to be fun — good and challenging fun. It seemed like right around the time that you’d start to get comfortable and settle in, something topographical would change pretty dramatically, and it’d behoove you to figure out how to change gears — and very fast. There wouldn’t be much cruising, but instead, lots of reacting and responding.

Our glee over the fog and autumnal racing weather was short-lived because probably around mile 1.75 of our 2 mile warm-up, Nature apparently flipped a switch and quickly exterminated the fog and threw some hot sun overhead for our race. The women’s race usually gets the better end of the weather deal in these XC races — compared to the men, who race an hour after the women, and thus, typically have much warmer weather — but this time around, we, too, would get some heat for a change. Another teammate, Julie, still in injury rehab mode, jumped in with us to race, and before too long, things were moving.

Right after the gun. You can see Lisa front and center and Claire just a little behind her. I’m tucked back on the right. (PC: Wolfpack friend Craig)

 

It’s like magic. (PC: Craig)

For being “just” a 6k, the terrain of this race was awesomely varied. We began our first mile with a lap around the polo fields, and from there, we jutted into an adjacent woodsy area that abutted the track. Once we got into the woodsy area, we had a couple little hills and chased that by cutting back over to the polo fields, running on some sidewalks, dirt paths, and mud in the process. The muddy path, parallel to JFK Drive, gave our backsides some sweet reminders of our morning’s work for the morning. Shortly after the mile 2 marker somewhere near JFK, we jumped off the muddy path and hopped into some sweet and delicious — and narrow — twisty singletrack, which made for a great and terrifying game of how strong are your ancillary muscles going to be today?! Hopefully strong enough! In this brief part of the course, being light and quick was paramount, else you’d faceplant over an exposed (or covered) tree root. Awesome. Following the singletrack, we popped over to a grassy area that, thankfully, was much more open — and more conducive to passing people (and being passed) — before we again hopped back onto some singletrack, got spit back onto the polo field track, and repeated another almost-lap around it. Many runners mistakenly thought that we’d be finishing our XC trek once we got back onto the track, but the leaders off in the distance revealed the actual truth: that we got to return to the woods, the hillier part of the course, for one final foray up, over, and through. Once we finished our second tour of the woods, we landed back on the track and finished the race with a final ~100 meters or so into the finish line, not far from where our race began just a few miles earlier.

Going around the track for our first lap, sometime before mile 1. (PC: one of the Wolfpack guys! He was making me laugh, as you can tell)

 

Coming out of the woods, sometime between mile 1 and 2. (PC: Wolfpack teammate)

 

Maybe sometime between mile 2 and 3 or between 3 and the end; I can’t remember. (PC: Wolfpack teammate)

A loose gravel track, sand, roots, mud, singletrack, grass, and a couple token flat sections: holy shit, cross country is tough!

right at the finish, rejoicing! haha (PC: Craig, I think)

… but man, is it fun.

It’s like playing tag with a huge group through nature, with some of nature’s finest obstacles thrown in for good measure.

When I show up to a XC race, so far, I’ve shown up without any goals or expectations beyond “I want to work hard and make the commute and time away from family worth it.” I find it difficult to set up a time goal or an exact pace goal simply because a) I’m still quite green in this department and b) I have no idea of how to estimate or scale my road paces to completely different terrain(s). I know this is totally earth-shattering, but it is really hard to run fast and hard while navigating terrain that’s not pancake flat. You heard it here first!

and for what it’s worth, running on flats is still really hard after you’re trying to push on tricky terrain. I look like a flamingo, so that’s cool. I think this is right before mile 3, right before we went back to the woods for round 2. (PC: a Wolfpack teammate)

On Sunday, just about any time I’d think ok, this is good, I’ll stick here for a while, I’d find that we were about to encounter a topo change that’d necessitate some fancy footwork and a recalibration of effort, turnover … everything, really. A++ to the course organizers for the variety. You definitely can’t be bored in XC.

I always feel like / somebody’s chaaaaaasing me (PC: Craig)

Perhaps needless to say, but I had a blast. This XC race and course was challenging in different ways than the Santa Cruz race, and I finished feeling pretty satisfied with my effort. If nothing else, I was sufficiently content with my run that I felt it justified the time away from the family for the morning. I think I have a lot of room for improvement in figuring out how to better pace these races — and in particular, learning how to let the course work for me — but that’s part of the fun. I have absolutely no idea how this all translates into marathon or road fitness, but it’s doing a wonder for my grittiness. This shit’s tough.

 

the lady squad from Sunday: Claire, Julie, Lisa, Christina, Mona, CT, and Alice puppy. (PC: Wolfpack RC IG)

After the open women’s race, some teammates and I went on a long, 10k or so cooldown, putting me at a little over 11 miles for the day, a week after running the RTTEOS and two weeks out from pacing at SRM. Fun aside: while we were running on Great Highway, a quick stop at a bathroom blessed me with a most excellent encounter with a kite-high woman who was oogling over my legs — calling me badass and other questionable descriptors that I’ve since conveniently blocked from memory, after she finished sizing me up — so there’s that. Oh, SF.

I haven’t begun training in earnest for CIM, but I think that this XC business is a nice prelude to some hard marathon training efforts. If nothing else, these races are excellent in terms of mental engagement or fostering mental grittiness, insomuch that for me at least, I can’t imagine checking-out when I’m racing these XC runs. The distance passes quickly, for sure, but it’s an intense effort, especially when you consider how you have to try to manage the fatigue that your body is enduring while trying to run hard and not fall or trip on any of Nature’s assorted obstacles. In road races, it’s easy to dissociate from the pain, and you can do so knowing with a fairly high degree of certainty that you can autopilot; I mean, I guess there’s always the chance that you might randomly trip on something, but you’re probably not going to encounter a tree root, a path of sand, or a slippery mud spot in the middle of the SF Marathon or Rock n Roll San Jose. In XC, on the other hand, it seems that dissociating would actually be super detrimental, just because — at least on a course like this one — you encounter such varied terrain over so few miles that you absolutely have to be paying hyper-attention to how your body is feeling, the earth your body is encountering, and how much easier or more difficult this new terrain feels than what you were running on just moments before. It’s a mental game as much as it is physical. It’s cool.

 

Our full squad from Sunday. (PC: Wolfpack RC IG)

 

As far as I know, these PA XC races are open to anyone, and they’re super cheap and no-frills. If you ever find yourself near one, definitely check it out! It’s hard as hell, of course, but I think that’s what makes it really fun, too. The discomfort is over quickly, anyway.