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The Road End Trail Run is a 5-mile race in the Pinckney Recreation Area outside Ann Arbor, MI. This event is just the opening act for the Trail Marathon weekend; Road Ends runs on Saturday and Sunday hosts a trail marathon and half-marathon at the same location.
Leading up to this race, the recovery from an achilles injury forced me to run just twice in the ten days prior to race day for a total of seven miles. Fortunately my conservatism paid off as my leg felt great on race day and I had no problems with any recurrence. Nevertheless, I was unsure how fast I could run given my lack of recent training and had difficultly coming up with a goal for the race. I had heard the course was quite hilly so I figured I'd be happy if I could maintain an 8:00 pace, i.e. finish the race in 40 minutes.
My dad, mom and Amanda were nice enough to come along as spectators, or maybe they just wanted to see me suffer! We hiked around the starting area and checked out some ducks and a loon out on Silver Lake using dad's binoculars. Finally it was time to assemble at the line and 259 folks packed together, eager to get moving so we could warm up! It was a cool, overcast morning at about 45 degrees. The race director informed us that mile markers 2 and 4 were quite accurate, but the markers for miles 1 and 3 were just "there for consistency". I chatted with a volunteer and a racer a bit while waiting and learned that the racer had just run the Boston Marathon two weeks earlier and the volunteer was going to do a 50-mile race in Colorado next week! Fun stuff.
Ready, set, GO!! We looped around a grassy area to thin the pack before converging on a narrow boardwalk through a marshy area. My plan was to run hard and see how long I could keep it up since I had no idea 1) what my fitness level was and 2) what my pace would be until two miles later. Initially I felt pretty good - one of the benefits of a long layoff is complete muscle recovery - and passed the 2-mile marker in 14:40, a 7:20 pace! My last 5K I ran at a 6:50 pace so maybe 7:20 over 5 miles is doable?
Maybe not... soon after the 2 mile mark I realized that my stride rate (e.g. steps per minute) was rather low, but when I tried to quicken up my leg turnover I was disappointed to learn that my legs wouldn't respond. Apparently this is one of the effects of the lost training time, that my leg speed just wasn't there. This hurt me on the flats since I couldn't accelerate and also on the hills because I couldn't "downshift" to maintain momentum going up.
The next two miles I was really hurting - my lungs felt OK and my legs weren't sore but I simply couldn't make my legs "go" - they felt "hollow" if that makes any sense. Halfway up a large hill I was actually forced to walk and felt rather embarrassed; after all, who am I to think I can run a 8:00 pace yet have to walk? At the top I found myself breathing rapidly as if at high altitude, yet within five seconds I was running again and feeling rather normal (at least, as normal as one can feel in a race). It seemed so silly that I had to walk up that hill yet could resume my race pace once at the top without a problem.
Less than a mile later on a smaller hill I had to walk again! Dang! Once again my lungs were fine once over the top so all I can reason is that my lack of training caused me to lose my running "power" - my stamina was there, my strength was there, but my legs wouldn't accelerate. This time I had a happier attitude while walking - I told myself that lots of runners both behind me and ahead of me had seen me walking up both hills, and I was going to beat most of them! So who cares if I walk? See you at the finish line, bubbas.
Finally I reached the 4-mile mark at 32:00... yikes! My last two miles had been at a 8:40 pace and now I had to run a 8:00 final mile to reach my 40-minute goal. I remained positive yet realized that this was going to be difficult - I had to push the pace and NOT LET UP for the next eight minutes. My legs still felt hollow and all I could fill them with was will power.
At long last I crested the final short hill and the finish line was in sight about 100 yards away; also in sight was another runner 30 yards ahead of me and I started my kick to chase him down. I quickly gained 10 yards on him but then he heard my labored breathing. My dad told me later that this guy looked over his shoulder and his eyes got wide; this guy had last passed me when I was walking up the second hill, so he must've been surprised to see me on his tail! He kicked into a sprint and all I could do was match his pace and wasn't able to overtake him.
That's OK - I was THRILLED because I finished in 39:45!! Somehow I toughed out a 7:45 final mile and the photos Amanda took really show the strain I was feeling. Boy oh boy. But as you can see in the last photo, it was all worth it and in fact quite satisfying to know that I wasn't at my best and I still managed a good run. Learning how my body responded to the injury recovery and lack of training was also quite enlightening. And of course, a post-race poppyseed muffin really hit the spot!
We stuck around for the award ceremony because I wanted to see who the winners were. The overall winner finished in under 29 minutes! Wow. Then they started awarding prizes to the top five runners in each age group. Names were called out and when they got to my age group I was stunned to hear the race director call my name! Holy cow, I finished 5th in my age group (out of 14) and won a coffee mug. Even though I know it's petty, it's still fun to win a prize at a race by actually being fast enough rather than a random drawing. :) Overall I finished 49th out of 259, and yes I'm quite pleased with that. Best of all, however, was being my 40 minute goal by running that last mile as hard as I did - nothing beats that feeling of achievement!
Bike
Today did not go as planned, but it turned out very well. Due to a minor achilles injury that caused me to skip my race this weekend, I geared up myself and my bike this morning for our first ride of the year, planning to roll along some country roads for about three hours. All was going well for the first half hour - beautiful clear skies and 60 degree temperature that was rising quickly - when things suddenly fell apart, literally. I'm pedaling along a flat stretch when I hear a loud SNAP followed by the clinks of metal pieces falling on the pavement. My seat broke off!! Luckily I didn't fall; a triathlete friend of mine once broke his arm falling due to a seat failure.
I phoned Amanda, who had to abandon her walk less than five minutes after starting to come rescue me. While waiting for her I managed to ride about two miles closer, during which time I learned two things about cycling with no seat: 1) your calves get really tired if you keep the standard position of centering the balls of your feet over the pedals, so I centered my arches on the pedals instead; and 2) the bike gets quite unstable descending steep hills. I'm not sure why for #2, but I guess it's due to a forward center of gravity putting too much weight on the front wheel?
Hike
So much for my long run ride. Amanda still wanted to get her workout in so I joined her on a local trail for a hike. We stopped home to drop off the bike and we decided to take Haven with us. She loved the trails but we had to keep her on leash about 95% of the time since portions of the trail are near 55 mph roads and because there are lots of folks (and their dogs) sharing the trails. Legally all dogs must be on leash there but the vast majority of the ones I see are unleashed, and Haven never causes problems but with her muddy paws I didn't want to offend anyone and give unleashed dogs a bad name.
Amanda took so many photos that we were making slow progress around the 4.5 mile loop. We wanted to get home in time to watch a Detroit Tigers game - a rare opportunity to see them on a air-broadcast channel. Halfway around the loop we decided I should run the 2 miles back to the car and pick up Amanda at the north parking lot (we started at the south lot).
Run
Haven came with me and we ran at a quick pace up and down the sandy, leafy hills. We passed a few other people and dogs but Haven was so tired by this point that she was in no mood to be the social butterfly that she usually is. 14 minutes later we were back at the car (after having to jump over a 2-foot long hognose snake!) The run was tiring and felt great - my achilles felt a bit tight but nothing near as bad as last week. Still, I'm glad (in a common-sense sort of way) that I passed on the 10-mile race yesterday.
Fetch
Once we got home we traded Haven for Beacon and drove to the river where I played fetch with him for half an hour while Amanda drove out to Subway to fetch our dinner. Beacon needed his turn getting some fun exercise and he really loved it, screaming as he waited for me to throw the next stick. He finally started getting tired just as Amanda returned and we all went home for dinner.
Icing on the cake: we got to watch the Tigers beat the White Sox in a 12-inning thriller complete with two-outs-bottom-of-the-9th home run heroics!
How about "the sport that got away"... Earlier I wrote about my "Sophie's choice" of sports in high school, wondering what may have been if I ran track instead of playing tennis. Finally I did run track after quitting the tennis team junior year, but I'm afraid I never tried the one event I was born for...
When I joined track I started with hurdles because the coach thought my long legs would be suited for it, and I also did high jump because 1) my friend was a high-jumper, and 2) a very tall and pretty girl did high jump, too. :) Even though my vertical leap was probably strong enough for me to clear 6'6", I never actually cleared more than 5'4" because my form stunk.
Early in the season I strained a hip flexor that prevented me from running hurdles so I moved to the distance events, finding that I most enjoyed the 400m and 800m races. By the end of senior year I was a decent 400m runner - my PR was 60 seconds. My dad watched one of my last track meets and afterwards he was reminiscing about his days as a high school track star, where he set (and still holds, I believe) the long jump record for his high school at something over 20 feet!
After the season one weekend I jogged from my house to school (about 4 miles), noticed the long jump pit and thought, hey, I should try this. I sprinted down the runway and took off - it felt good! Stepping off the distance, I estimated that I soared 17 feet! The best guys on my track team were jumping 17-18 feet, the state champ was doing 24', and this was just my first attempt. As it were, it was also my last.
Alas, what could've been? Had I started long jumping right off the bat, I might have been winning a few meets and who knows, perhaps I could've competed at the state championships just like my dad had done. Maybe I could've topped his "family record", too! With my dad's genes, was I born for long jump? I guess I'll never know, but clearly I let the opportunity get away.
A trophy. I was 14 years old and had won "most improved player of the year". It altered the course of my athletic career forever...
In 8th grade I participated in three sports: baseball, track, and tennis.
Baseball
I had played baseball since 2nd grade and enjoyed it, but was never great at it. This was partly due to poor eyesight because once I got glasses in 7th grade, my hitting instantly went from horrible to decent. I had no power but good plate discipline, culminating in an 8th grade season where I batted .670 with a .750 on-base percentage but just one extra-base hit (a bloop double). My coach batted me at the bottom of the lineup despite my stats (I was the only one who kept stats, anyway, being a nerd) because he never realized how effective I was. I tried to explain to him that my singles were almost as good as doubles because being the fastest runner on the team, I stole 2nd base every time and often 3rd base, too, without getting caught. He was a great coach and he liked me, but didn't appreciate a hitter without power.
Track
Even though I generally liked running, I never tried track and field until 8th grade. Being a late bloomer I wasn't a standout by any means, but I was still pretty good. I ran mostly distances of 100m-400m and my highlight was running the first leg of our championship-winning 4x100 relay, keeping pace with other team's fastest runners. It was a bit frustrating that I wasn't good enough to win any races on my own, but a few of my friends were on the track team and the camaraderie was outstanding. That was some of the most fun in a sport I'd ever experienced.
Tennis
I started taking lessons in 7th grade at a local athletic club in the beginner's group. Non-beginners, my best friend among them, played in class-type practice sessions ranked by ability, "Group 3" being the worst and "Group 1" being the best. My friend had been playing for several years and finally got promoted from Group 3 to Group 2 and was proud of it. Apparently I took quite well to the sport because after half a year in the beginner's group the coaches jumped me straight into Group 2, making my friend a bit envious. And for that I won a little trophy as the club's most improved player of 1990.
Entering high school the following year, I was faced with a mild version of Sophie's Choice: all three of my sports took place in the same season, forcing me to choose only one that I could continue pursuing. I enjoyed all three sports immensely - the drama of baseball, the excitement of track, the intensity of tennis - and because of that trophy, I chose tennis.
Tennis was the only sport where I felt that my achievements were recognized, a feeling given to me simply by that trophy. I never was awarded "most improved hitter" when I got glasses or a "most promising runner" when I held my own in the relay. It's kinda sad that such praise was so important to me, but that's who I was back then.
The epilogue here is that I played tennis for just three more years, making varsity as a sophomore on a top-ranked team but quitting in my junior year after becoming exasperated with a holier-than-thou coach and teammates who were more concerned with being better than each other than actually winning meets against other schools. Luckily for my parents' wallet it only took one expensive broken racquet to realize the error of my choice. :)
I never played baseball again, but I did play in a rec softball game between the two 11th grade chemistry classes where I happened to have a great day outplaying everyone including a handful varsity baseball players in chemistry class. The chemistry teacher was also a baseball coach and asked me several times "Why aren't you playing baseball?" Sometimes I wondered that myself but...
After quitting tennis I joined the track team because my good friend Jamey ran track. I went from being the best runner on the tennis team to the worst runner on the track team; however, I was setting PRs (personal records) every race I ran. By senior year I was an average runner yet still PR-ing every race, prompting my track coach to give me one of the best compliments I ever received in high school: "Someday you'll be winning master's races."
Ironic, isn't it? I chose tennis because of the accolades it gave me, but never found any respect in the sport again while the two sports I had cast off ultimately gave me the recognition that I craved. Nowadays I'm an active softball player and distance runner, but I haven't touched a tennis racquet since college. I guess I should've followed my own heart rather than the mouths of other people, or at least the words they etch onto little trophies.
Amanda caught me off guard today - it was supposed to be a rest day for her exercise but I got an email at work asking "Do you want to go with me and run on that trail you found yesterday?" You bet!
We ran the first half mile or so - Amanda ran the whole way despite the challenging trail. It was funny to watch her have to stop and step over fallen logs, the same logs that I barely notice when running over them! Long legs can be an asset there.
After one lap we got out the camera and Amanda started taking photos. The awesome artistic ones are on Amanda's blog, some shots of the trail itself are on my new blog Why Run?, and this really cute one is looking right at you. :)
Finally I left Amanda to wander among nature while I ran the 4 miles home. I started out slow but kept upping the pace until I was really hurting. I somehow convinced myself to not let up and I finished in under 30 minutes for a 7:26 pace! It was hilly, too (including the last 1/4 mile up an 80-foot killer) so I'm happy, but very tired.
"April showers bring May flowers" so the saying goes, but I don't think those flowers had snow in mind! Isn't this crazy? But it makes for fun running. Here's the view out our front window this evening:
In honor of my not-so-secret birthday, let's discuss what careers we envisioned for ourselves as kids. Did you have just one idea that all your dreams were made of, or was your future more of a moving target?
I was one of the latter - each year I had a new profession that I was gonna be when I grew up. Here's my list; note that my "years" are based on school years not calendar years, as my memories are inevitably tied to what grade I was in at the time, not how old I was.
Pre-school - garbage man
I was in awe of the garbage trucks and how they could "gruff" the trash in the compactor!
Kindergarten - ornithologist
My favorite book was the Field Guide to Birds of North America and I loved to watch hawks and vultures soaring above.
1st grade - construction worker
I wanted to operate a lime green front-end loader because I loved giant construction machines.
2nd grade - center fielder for the Detroit Tigers and wide receiver for the Cincinnati Bengals
The hometown Tigers had just won the World Series and the Bengals had cool helmets; apparently I was going to be Bo Jackson!
3rd grade - paleontologist
I was going to dig up fossils to study prehistoric mammals; my favorite was Andrewsarchus for obvious reasons. :)
4th grade - zoologist
I wanted to study large mammalian predators such as wolves, bears, and big cats
5th grade - marine biologist
In particular I wanted to study marine mammals, especially orcas and dolphins.
6th grade - fiction writer
Reading countless Newberry Medal books got me thinking that I could write cool stories, too.
7th grade - forest ranger
I loved trees, especially redwoods and sequoias. A family trip to Yellowstone National Park inspired this one.
8th grade - canine and/or dolphin behaviorist
My plan was to understand dog/dolphin communication and ultimately learn to speak their language.
9th grade - astronaut
My dream was to take part in the first mission to walk on Mars.
10th grade - architect
I read a book about Frank Lloyd Wright and loved the concept of blending form with function.
11th grade - aerospace engineer
I loved airplanes and flying; plus, it sounded impressive when written on a college application.
12th grade - helicopter pilot
I had started taking flying lessons and preferred "low and slow" rather than "high and fast" flying.
How did I choose? With my eyesight too poor to become a pilot, I stuck to the most recent available career and became an aerospace engineer; besides, I kinda felt locked in by virtue of my choice of college major. In college I did revisit the pilot idea with the Marines when I found out they offered waivers for imperfect eyesight; however, my vision was way too nearsighted for a waiver and I didn't want to be a back-seater.
I might have considered careers in athletics had I thought that was an option; however, from an early age my mom instilled that such careers were dead-ends and sports were just games. Now that I realize how possible it is to have meaningful careers in athletics, perhaps my interests there would've received more serious attention.
Ironically (or perhaps predictably) I'm presently none of the professions listed above; I still call myself an aerospace engineer but in truth I work as a computer systems engineer for a company that puts their products on aircraft. In retrospect I probably would've preferred a career in the natural sciences because as cool as technology is, it's never more fascinating than nature.