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2018 Lake Health HILL YEAH! Half Marathon Race Recap – Kirtland, OH

2018 Lake Health HILL YEAH! Half Marathon Race Recap – Kirtland, OH

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Yet again the girls and I travelled to the midwest to see my family for a few weeks this summer, and yet again, I am training to run TSFM at the end of July, thus taking marathon training on the road with me. Fortunately, running is nothing, if not flexible.

Ohio-bound. That book, btw, is bizarre but so interesting.

Fortunately, there isn’t a dearth of racing options near my family, and some QT on ye olde Google before I left California pointed me to the 2018 Lake Health HILL YEAH! Half Marathon in Kirtland, Ohio, just a few days after we arrived. A half marathon five weeks out from race day and with apparently so many hills that it comprised the race namesake? Sold. That’s exactly what I want, and when I want it, in the throes of marathon training.

If you’ve been reading this space for a while now, you may remember that I am consistently a poor HM runner. Shit always seems to hit the fan for me in these races, and the typical reasons include a) being in the thick of marathon training and thus, fatigued AF (since I don’t taper for them); b) GI distress, which happens probably 9.5 times out of 10 at this distance for me for some reason; c) shitty weather (eh, nothing over which I have control); and d) course topography (I have a penchant for seeking out and doing the “hard” races). Some of that I can control, sorta, but a lot of that I can’t. It’s fine. I feel like I race one good HM every few years, so we’ve been in a drought since late 2016, IIRC. I’m a mentally tough competitor, but for whatever reason, HMs of late have just been tough nuts to crack.  

So it was without really any semblance of expectation that I signed up for this race and thought even if it’s a horrible day where everything goes wrong, at least I’ll get some good road climbing in and some good simulation for TSFM. Perhaps that’s a rather defeatist way of approaching this HM challenge, but it is what it is. In the days preceding the race, Coach Lisa asked me how I wanted to approach it, and we both agreed that making it into a strong workout would be worthwhile and valuable at this point in my training. I had zero interest in going for a PR attempt here (see all the aforementioned reasons a paragraph earlier; my eyes are on a different prize right now), but if I was going to be driving nearly an hour each way, I wanted to at least make good use of my time.

Come race day, I arrived to the little farmpark area that hosted the half marathon and half marathon relay’s start and finish line, picked up my bib and shirt, and felt pretty chill: no race day nerves, a healthy bit of excitement to be doing a workout in the company of a lot of other people, but more than anything, just good ol’ gratitude to be there and to have the opportunity at all. That stuff is never lost on me. I ran a couple mile warm-up and quickly determined that it was going to be a humid race (add that challenge to the hills that we’d be encountering, why not?), making me pretty happy to be doing a workout and not actually racing-racing.

I like the sentiment here, but isn’t this inaccurate? shouldn’t the pic be of a sheep?? (or say imaginatooooootion)???

The race plan was to run the first five miles at goal marathon pace + 10 seconds; run the next five miles at HMRP for 3 minutes on, 2 minutes off; then run the final 5k at “GO!” I liked this approach because it’d give me a lot of opportunity to get a feel for changing gears many times mid-race which, conveniently, is my usual strategy at TSFM to help account for the changing elevation. 

I recalled reading in the course description that the entire course was rolling and that the two significant climbs were around miles four and eight. Most of the run was on backcountry roads (that were still open to traffic but were heavily patrolled by local police, thankfully), but there were a couple jaunts into some local preserves — first the Chapin Forest Reservation and later, the Penitentiary Glen Reservation —  with the former making me think of the Santa Cruz XC course, what with the super tall trees and just beautiful canopy. It was 85% a road race but still had a good mix of hilly trail stuff thrown in there for good measure with those two reservations and the starting/finishing area at Lake Metroparks. The mix was really awesome and not something that I’ve really experienced before in a race of this distance.

Running a really specific workout like this in the throes of a race atmosphere is an excellent test of patience. It was initially tough to not chase down the 10 or so women who flew off the line, but I reminded myself of what I was there to do that day. I felt good during my MP mileage (and came in a little hotter than necessary for some), and during the climbing around mile four through the preserve, I felt really strong and passed many runners. Once I finally finished the first 5 mile bit of my workout, I quickly transitioned into the HM portion and came in HOT, thanks to the surge of adrenaline, the opportunity to pass a lot of other women who had been in front of me for a while, and with the boost of a slight downhill right off the bat. It was fun to keep changing gears — going from running at HMRP for a few minutes and then slowing it down to recover — and the fun was sometimes compounded by whatever the topography was at the moment. Running fast is obviously a lot harder on steep uphills than it is on downhills, and similarly, it’s hard to recover when you’ve got a looming descent calling your name. Again: patience. Heed the plan. Trust. Trust. Trust.

I think this was exiting one of the reservations, but I can’t recall which one.

Somewhere in the second five mile portion of my workout, the skies completely opened up out of seemingly nowhere and just rained buckets on us. It was so humid earlier that the downpour felt pretty nice, but man, that came out of nowhere! WTH, Midwest?! I was so impressed with all the AS volunteers just taking in the rain — most of whom didn’t have any raincoats or ponchos — because while it felt great while running in it, I think it would have been kinda cold to stand around in. I thanked every volunteer and police I saw because it can be boring to stand around waiting for runners to come through, and in shitty weather, it can be positively miserable. They did us all such a huge solid.

While that first big hill at mile four, through the forest preserve, was definitely a challenge, I thought the second big one was actually a lot more manageable, perhaps because it was on roads and not on trails. The good and bad thing about running somewhere unfamiliar is that you have no idea where you’re going — particularly if your internal GPS is a bit unreliable, ahem — and even with the supposed “big hills” behind us, and the bulk of my workout done, that last 5k of any half can be positively brutal. By mile 10, I had taken two or three SiS gels — one at zero, right before the start; then one again around mile 5-6; then one more around 8-9, I think — and I think it was after mile ten that the meteorological gods again showed up to party and dumped more buckets on us. Cool.

I hadn’t seen a woman in front of me for a while, and I hadn’t heard any immediately behind me, either, but I was clinging to hope that I may be able to finish high in the women’s field, provided I didn’t totally tank on the final 5k. Of course, we had more rollers right up until the very end, and around mile 11, we landed in front of our starting area at Lake Metroparks and passed through the starting area to run in the park behind where we began. In doing so, our last couple miles were on the farm property and through some just beautiful tree canopy again and close enough to the finish line that we could hear it before we could see it.

the view from the last 1.5 or so, in the farmpark area (the race’s staging ground). I took this and the next during my CD, when I went back out and ran the last couple miles of the race in reverse.

 

The view over the last mile or so at the farmpark

I was feeling pretty tired toward the end, and by mile 12, I felt like I was tanking fast. Naturally, out of nowhere, a young girl, probably high school-aged, showed up and passed me, running scared and looking behind herself periodically to see how far back I was. I tried to stay with her and catch her but didn’t succeed, cursing myself for not taking that last SiS I had in my pocket earlier. I had no idea if she were a relay runner or a HM, but I tried to close the gap as much as I could over what felt like an endless mile through a field before one last tiny incline and then a downhill finish.

It wasn’t until somewhere late in the race that I flipped my watch screen over to see my time and saw that I’d probably come in right around 1:40, +/- a few minutes, which is typically my HM split during a marathon. Once I realized this, I tried to finish as close to 1:40 as possible and juuuuuuuust missed it — 1:40:10 — but was satisfied. I had a solid workout and accomplished that which I wanted to, for the most part, even if I felt like I had begun to tank with a mile to go, attributable to stupid fueling choices on my part.

completely and utterly drenched after 3 downpours and a very humid morning. notice the cowbell medal that’s an actual bell!

I checked the results and learned that I was in the top 25 finishers for the half, and after I ran a few more easy cool-down miles — after getting poured on again (third time, if you’re keeping count) — I came back and learned that I had won the woman’s side! I accepted my award from the RD, a white envelope in which I assumed was a gift certificate to one of the local stores, and it wasn’t until I was beginning to drive away that I checked and realized I earned some cash money for my efforts. How completely unexpected and generous!

Dry clothes (well, up top, anyway) FTW. I was really surprised to learn later that I had earned cash because the website specifically said that this year’s race wasn’t offering cash prizes as they had in previous years.

Overall, it was a great morning. Not only did I get to race workout against the elements of humidity (which was tough) and pouring-buckets-rain twice mid-run (which was a welcome cut to the aforesaid), but I also did so against the backdrop of a tough course (about 800′ gain) five weeks out from my goal marathon and on untapered legs. You can see how the workout shook out at my Garmin notes, if you want some numbers. 

the rain and humidity made my braid nearly double in size, resulting in an impressive squirrel nest. nothing that some copious amounts of conditioner can’t fix!

If you’re ever in the area, I’d definitely recommend this race. It’s affordable, well-organized, logistically very easy, has a challenging but totally doable elevation profile, and offers some nice little amenities like a tech shirt (that my seven year-old loves and wears almost nightly to bed), free race pics, and (this year, anyway) an actual cowbell medal. The weather’s a gamble — late June in Ohio, of course it’s going to be — so just consider that as one more notch you can earn on your mental toughness belt (or whatever). Doing hard things is fun. This race is a great opportunity for that. 

Five weeks from TSFM!  

2018 PA USATF Across the Bay 12k Race Report (Sausalito-SF, CA)

2018 PA USATF Across the Bay 12k Race Report (Sausalito-SF, CA)

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In early June, along with many of my Wolfpack teammates, I ran the 35th annual Across the Bay 12k, put on by Represent Running as the second event in their Run the Bay Challenge. While this race is actually older than me, this year was the first time I got to run it. Typically, the race isn’t until later in the summer, when I’m out of town, but for whatever reason, this year’s iteration was earlier in June. Bonus: it was newly put on the PA Road Series schedule, which meant that the race would be an opportunity for my team to compete and earn points. Bonus bonus: since I am a social media ambassador for Represent Running, my race fee was comped (which is always nice). Bonus bonus bonus: I got to see many other SMA buddies before or after the race, in addition to many other Wolfpack, Arete, and other friends. It was going to be an excellent day.

Going into the race, I knew very little about the course — just that it started in Sausalito, climbed up and over the Golden Gate Bridge, and ended in Aquatic Park in Crissy Field — and that it had a couple good climbs at the beginning and end. I’d only ever run one other 12k before, the 2014 Bay to Breakers, but I thought that I could possibly post a better time at ATB than what I had at BTB, notwithstanding the hills. I figured it’d be a scenic experience and that much of the course would coincide with that of TSFM that I’d be running in a couple months’ time. More than anything, it was going to be a training run and a bit of a litmus test to see how SF training was shaping up.

I knew when I woke up on race morning that I wasn’t feeling very springy, but I quickly dismissed the reality (denial can be helpful sometimes, right?) and just focused on doing what I could for the day. ATB race week was just another week of TSFM training, without any taper or anything like that, and I had come into race day after having a “hearty” workout (coach’s words) earlier in the week. No matter. In my view anyway, marathon training is often about navigating accumulated fatigue, so it’s rare that you’ll show up to a race that’s in the thick of marathon training actually feeling close to 100%. I don’t think this view is cynical; I think it’s more indicative of the reality that is 26.2 training. It’s both part of the challenge and part of the fun.

My teammates and I carpooled up to SF in the wee hours on race day (and I caught a little more sleep in the process, fortunately, since I slept pretty poorly the night before), and pretty much right off the bat, I started running into people I know, beginning with Connie, Meg, and Brian. After a quick bus ride over from SF/Ghiradelli Square to Sausalito/the race’s staging grounds, many of my teammates and I began a couple mile warm-up. The weather was pretty perfect — nice temps, amazingly no fog to speak of (affording us beautiful views of SF and the GGB), and no wind — and before too long, we were corralling ourselves into the first group and awaited for go time.

waiting for those magic words in the starting corral with some teammates (PC: WRC)

The course was interesting insomuch that it gave participants lots of opportunities (or challenges, depending on your disposition) to change gears. Literally steps off the starting line, we began a massive descent that hurtled us down virtually underneath the GGB. Of course, to get back over into SF, we had to get ourselves up to the bridge, so that massive downhill and subsequent flat first mile quickly transformed into what felt like a straight-vertical second mile to get us up to the bridge. The bridge is about two miles long and a “false flat,” so it wasn’t until about mile 3 or so, when we were over the bridge and onto the SF side of the race, that we really began (heartily) descending again and wound our way on flat lands through Crissy Field. There was a little out-and-back action at one portion around mile 4/4.5, if I remember correctly, but for the most part, once we got over into SF and off the GGB, it was a continuous trek east. Roughly miles 3.5-7 were flat, and at the very end, we passed Fort Mason and crested one last good-sized hill that would spill us over to the finish line on the other side, right back at Ghiradelli Square, where we boarded buses just a couple hours earlier. A 12k translates to about 7.5 miles — you’re welcome; I didn’t know either — which doesn’t sound like all that much longer than a 10k but in the thick of it, holy hell! What a difference! Everything is more intense when you’re trying to run fast.

don’t mind the cheese

If I say nothing else about this race, I’ll say this: I found it an excellent exercise in patience. Clearly I’m not the best at pacing short stuff, but right off the starting line, surrounded by tons of very, very fast PA runners and teammates, and on a downhill, it took a LOT of self-control to not fly. I remember looking down at my watch for a second to find that I was around a 5:55 pace — and yes, on a downhill, and right at the start, so it’d understandably be faster than what I had any business to be posting — but I quickly pulled back because I knew that’d bite me tremendously later. I have enough experience to know from racing in these uber-fast PA races that I’m doing well for me if I finish in the 50th percentile. That said, I knew right off the line about where I should be.

I tried to anticipate these big climbs that I had been warned about, and I think pulling back in that first big downhill mile helped me feel strong getting up to and over the GGB. I slowly began reeling in and passing other runners who had smoked me off the line, and I was surprised at how strong I felt as I was ascending and descending. Thanks to the stroke and the subsequent time off and fitness rebuilding this spring, I haven’t raced a lot yet this year, which simply means that I’m relying on workout data to give me a glimmer of an idea of my fitness and endurance right now. By this time last year, I had PRed — repeatedly — my 5k and 10k times, but of course, this spring played out very differently. Getting comfortable and feeling confident in a racing atmosphere again will only come when I put myself out there and go for it. I mean, that’s kinda how it works; you get comfortable with racing by racing. (Magic, right?). Even as I was toeing the line at this race, I felt zero — absolutely zero — race day nerves. ATB was feedback, pure and simple, an opportunity to see what my body could produce in a fatigued state and after slowly building back fitness, speed, and endurance since beginning in mid-March.

One of my highlights from ATB was seeing so many other teammates and friends on the brief OAB around mile 4; I did Chicago runners proud by the number of beautiful mid-race side-5s I threw down. For the final couple miles of the race, I could see Meg’s little ponytail whipping around maybe thirty seconds-a minute in front of me, and I tried so hard to catch up to her. Imagine how fun would it be to finish alongside a dear friend?! Ultimately I didn’t — and I sorta wished I had taken an SiS mid-race, either in addition to or instead of the one I had taken beforehand, wondering if I would have finished more strongly — but I posted 52:45 (52:48 officially, since PA rules are antiquated and go by gun time, not chip time), around a 7 minute pace for what Garmin says was just shy of 700’ of climbing. And yup, my predictions were pretty spot-on for PA placement: 19/58 women, 12/18 AG, and and 67/140 overall. Cool. 

your friendly harriers (PC: WRC)

 

Shortly after finishing, my teammate Leilani and I shared some cool-down miles before I circled back for more (after having a piece of birthday cake to celebrate my teammate, Anna’s, 35th); fueling a cool-down with delicious birthday cake can’t be beat. It ended up being a gorgeous morning in SF, punctuated with a fun race, great competition, and a lovely meet-up with friends whom I don’t get to see nearly as often as I like. Many teammates did really well, posting wonderful PRs and high placements, and it was super fun to share in their successes.

also fun: sleeping both THERE and BACK (PC: Jason)

I’d definitely recommend this race if you’re local or local-ish to SF. Running over the GGB is fun, and provided you don’t have an aversion to some urban climbing, I think you’ll have an enjoyable experience. Of course, I’m partial to anything that JT and his crew at Represent Running produce, but it has been my experience, anyway, that as far as races go, they’re as fun, competitive, locally-focused, and well-organized as they come. I was so happy that I was actually in town for this year’s race, and I’m excited to run it again in the future, perhaps on fresher legs this time around. (But honestly, probably not. I always consider really training for, and racing, shorter stuff in substitution of marathon training, but I really like the long stuff and prefer to throw in the short stuff as periodic checks. Never say never though, right?). Even though I missed breaking my BTB time by about 70 seconds, I had a lot of comfortably-hard fun and valued the opportunity to get some feedback on my TSFM training seven weeks out.

bottle opener! (PC: Represent Running)