Quarry Crusher Run – Olympia – Columbia, SC – 4/18/15

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The Quarry Crusher is back again for its 4th year in 2015, and this is also my 4th time doing the race. I entered this event on a whim in its first year and I keep coming back because its one of the most unique and fun events in Columbia. The concept is simple: run about a third of a mile on a road, then plunge into the center of the earth via a mile-and- a -half -long -ten -percent- grade gravel-laden -corkscrew- of- death. Oh yeah, then haul your butt back up to the surface for the finish. Total distance about 3.8  miles. My first year I went out like a headless chicken  with the leaders, doing a 5:40 first mile. On my climb out I was reduced to a gimpy soccer mom on a mall walk, trudging up at like 14 minute pace and setting a new world record for F bombs in a race. It wasn’t pretty.

Since that time I’ve managed to do better, maintaining at least a slow jog on the way up, but I’m still on the fence as to the best race strategy. I’ve seen people do OK with the walk-run method too. The mile and a half incline is merciless and unrelenting.

Of course, what could be better than trashing your legs on a 400 foot drop into a pit and crawling your way out? Doing it twice. This year they decided to add the “Double Crusher” which was exactly that. Frequent racers such as myself possess a sick, twisted kind of masochism which makes this sort of thing seem appealing. Of course I was in for the double. Duh! Bonus: the quarry keeps getting dug deeper every year, so the race gets even longer. Awesome.

With the new double crusher in play, I was pretty psyched about this race. I showed up almost an hour early and I could tell this event is continuing to grow in popularity. Already a big crowd.  Derek Gomez had told me he would be there for a warm up. Race day was also his 40th birthday, so my brief respite from the beasts of the 35-39 was quickly coming to an end. He was doing the single crusher, so my trophy hunt was still in play. A quick look online at the registrants for both races showed hundreds in the single but maybe only 70 in the double, so the “undercard” strategy was working for me in the shiny metal trinket department.

Speaking of 35-39 beasts, my Team Utopia teammates Michael Nance. Drew Williams and the Yerg were already there. Apparently kicking my ass on the track every Monday wasn’t enough. It should be noted that the Yerg kills this race. Dude is already fast, but something about him being super light and doing all that Mount Mitchell training makes him a total quarry stud. Speaking of Mt Mitchell veterans, there was a large Harbison Trail Runner contingent on board, ready to crush the spirits of all us wussy road racers. Fearless leaders Rick Stroud and Dean Schuster were there along with  Winston Holliday, Craig Wlaschlin, Jay Hammond, Kenny Standley, Bill Siebers, Alfie Hipps, Marian Nanney and Rick Gibbons.  Other familiar faces/CRCers on site included Steve Rudnicki, James Hicks, Greta Dobe, Mario and Jennifer Tudor, Henry Holt, Rocky Soderberg, Micah Simonsen, Wes Spratt, sisters Milly and Connie Hough, Robyn Culberson, Brigitte Smith, Emily Richbourg, Harry Strick, Pam Boggs, Makenzie Wilson, John Richards, Hou-Yin Chang,  Shiela Subbarao and  Jen Reeves. Milly and Robyn had mentioned something on facebook about trying to complete the single before I finished my double. Challenge: accepted! J-Reeves asked about the option of upgrading to the double the night before, and was emailed back that they already switched her. Time to man up JR.

quarry

This being my fourth crusher, I was actually pretty familiar with the course and racing strategy. You start off with a relatively flat third of a mile or so on paved road. The first little bit in the quarry gives you a false sense of security that it isn’t going to be that bad. A soft decline and even a water stop at the half mile mark (which actually I think is for the way back up). Once you pass the water stop there is a sharp decline, then a 90 degree turn to the left and another sharp decline. I call these the upper mountains. Once you reach the bottom of the second mountain, you reach a plateau I call Oh S$^%! corner. It’s a flat area with  another water stop, and you get your first look at the corkscrew down into the seventh circle of hell. Hence the Oh S@#$#.  The rest of the course is the Corkscrew of Death, finishing with virtually no rest before you have to go right back up. For the double crusher, you have a turnaround at the quarry gates to repeat all the fun.

My race strategy was to stick with the “just keep going” plan I’d done since the second race. If I start walking, I lose all motivation, so I planned to avoid it if I could. I had no idea if that was going to be possible the second time around.  Competition-wise, if I could hang with in the middle of the Harbison guys (like Make my Day)  I’d  be happy. I dont make it out to Harbison much, but I train on Mount Sesqui all the time, so maybe that would help with the off road climbing.

At the start, I realize I haven’t hydrated well because I’m actually thirsty before I even take a step. It’s on the warm side and super humid. This was going to be rough. I had lined up about 3 rows back, but with the start I’m getting passed left and right right off the bat. It was OK, I had a strong feeling I would be seeing them again. Rob, Drew, Derek and Nance dropped me immediately, and I let them go. Drew and Gomez were doing the single, so I knew they would be hauling. Nance and Yerg were going to crush me in the double. I decide to latch on to Micah as a pacer. A half mile in I plunder the first water stop, double fisting the cups like I’ve just done a marathon, chugging like its a beer mile. At least I’ve got the dehydration thing taken care of. I am getting passed left and right on the Upper mountains. It’s the Sasquatchian Paradox: all this weight and can’t go fast on downhills.  Rapid acceleration down walls of rock has never been a good thing for me either. I take another chug at Oh Sh@##$ corner and proceed to the Corkscrew of Death. I hit mile 1 in like 6:40, which I guess is OK, considering the double.  I’m experimenting with all kinds of form on the way down, trying to get the most speed without turning my quads into hamburger meat. It’s not working very well. Between all the pounding I start hearing vague echoes from below, like some kind of ghostly hallucination. Before I start questioning my sanity, I see they’ve actually got a band down at the bottom. It’s weird because you can’t hear them at all at the top. Appropriately they are playing ” (I am) My Own Worst Enemy” by Lit when I get there. #truth. This year the bottom is a big loop, and damned if Gomez, Yerg and Nance are already completing the loop and going up again by the time I drag my butt down. I finally hit “rock bottom” and start the slog up. Somehow I always forget how much the climb sucks. It does…very much. I try very hard not to think of how long it is to the top. Micah and Craig are up ahead doing some walk running pretty much immediately. I just chug along, blazing a ten minute pace. I do seem to be passing quite a few people, though Simonsen is keeping the gap up with the run intervals.  The walksie voices start screaming pretty loudly near the top of the Corkscrew but Oh S@#%$ corner gives me a brief respite to flush out some lactic acid. Irish handcuffs again with the water. The Upper Mountains really suck but you can see the top on the second climb, so that briefly distracts me from the burning, quivering masses that used to be called my legs. Reaching the top is usually euphoric but I can already see the leaders coming back from the turnaround ahead.  The double crusher is suddenly seeming much less attractive.  But actually the way back down is much nicer. My legs are so grateful for the climbing break, I swear I’m going faster on the second trip down. It’s nice to be able to see a bunch of familiar faces, especially when you’re freefalling and they are in an epic struggle. Yes, I am a terrible person. I am still latched on to Micah, who by now is probably REALLY getting sick of having a rabid bear chasing him. Sorry for the nightmares, dude. At Oh S@#$ corner I realize my shoelaces are coming untied. Unfreakingbelievable. A couple hundred races in and I still can’t get basic stuff right (that and being able to pin a bib on straight – I really suck at that). I realize this is probably a hazard flying down a 10 percent decline, but, as has been thoroughly documented, I am not known for my sound racing decisions. I manage to make it all the way down the corkscrew with laces flying, when I finally come to my senses and stop to tie them. It about kills me because I can see Micah leaving me behind, and then Winston passes me too. It’s not fair! At least that’s what my inner 5 year old says. He actually guides much of my other behavior too, apparently. Starting up again is tough, since I’ve decided to come to a dead stop at the bottom with a mile and a half of torture to go. I launch into my power jog once again, which may have even been under 11 minute pace. Blazing. Band is playing “Inside Out” by Eve 6 and I wonder how many race/quarry related songs these guys know.  I was impressed. One thing I notice on the slog back up – its not actually any harder. It still sucks royally, but I guess your legs get used to the abuse at some point. I keep drawing near Winston, Micah and Craig when they walk but as soon as I get close they take off again. Damn them! Women’s leader Marian Nanney passes me on the run then I pass her back with my relentless shuffle on the Upper Mountains. As we near the summit of the second lap, I can see everybody start to quicken the pace, and I slowly start to fire up the engines. We reach the gate area and we’re only a third of a mile on the road to the finish.  Micah and Craig seem out of reach, but Winston has fallen off the back a bit and what’s this?? It’s a pink Ray Tanner shirt! Must be Milly or Robyn. And then the beast is awoken. It feels like I’m taking a twitchy stick shift out for a ride, but I quickly switch about 5 gears up to 5k pace, and then all out headless chicken mode. With about 50 meters to go I pass Winston and then Robyn, who I think said something unprintable on my way by. In an all out sprint, I try to take down Micah, but he finishes a step ahead and narrowly avoids being run over by the Sasquatch bus. I cross the line in 51:19, 12th overall in the Double, and inexplicably, 1st in age group! Apparently it pays to be 40 this time – i would have been 4th in the 35-39.  Awesome ginormous race bling for the age group winners – bigger than a lot of marathon finisher medals.

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/749920880

http://racesonline.com/events/quarry-crusher/results/2015

In the Double, Brad Popple won the overall by like 5 minutes. Dude looked like a pro and was running up the quarry looking like my 5k pace. Harbison trail runner Marian Nanney took the women’s win. They only did 1st in AG for the double, I guess because of the small field. In the 30-34, Sheila Subbarao beat out a host of elite 30-34ers to take the win, with Craig Wlaschin winning among the men. Bill Siebers took the men’s 45-49 and Catherine Harris took the women’s title in a pink tutu. Stole my idea. Kenny Standley ran an amazing 44:49 to take 2nd overall and win the 50-54. I am not worthy. Wes Spratt won the 55-59 but paid for it with one of the best finshing photos of all time. Dr. Shawn Chillag took the 65-69.

In the Single, Derek Gomez celebrated his 40th in style by taking the overall win, edging out Trent Morrow and Jeremy Becraft. Strong work, dude! Jennifer Oblinger took the women’s win. Ryan Sacko placed 3rd in the 30-34.  Drew Williams technically took 3rd in the 35-39, though they used chip time on age group awards instead of gun time, so he was left out. Rick Gibbons won the 55-59, and Jack Kuenzie took the 60-64. Brigitte Smith won the 65-69, while Henry Holt and Rocky Soderberg went 1-2 in the 70+.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bunny Hop 5k – Columbia, SC – 4/4/15

 

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The Bunny Hop 5k is a relatively new race in the YMCA series, first held in 2013. For whatever reason, the stars aligned that year and somehow I took home the first male overall prize. I’d like to say I won the race, but as it turned out, Amy McDonaugh thoroughly chicked me and actually crossed the finish line first. Amy came rolling in to the finish looking all athletic and strong, to a huge ovation. The poor bystanders then had to see me completely headless chicken it , about ready to puke, in an effort to break 19.  No cheers for the Sasquatch,  but I got my 18:59. Beautiful. There was an award for first male overall, and I wasn’t about to turn down a hundred bucks, despite the shame.

With a female overall winner and an Albino Sasquatch male champ, you can be sure that fellow trophy hunters will take notice. And notice they did. The race grew significantly last year and exploded to 300+ in 2015. I didn’t get to defend my “title” in 2014 with the Palmetto 200 coinciding, but I think Justin Bishop came out and crushed the field for the win.

Speaking of defending titles, I certainly don’t get a chance to do that very often, but this was also Resurrection Run weekend. Resurrection was the site of the epic battle of whiteness last year, a brutal battle of the pigmentally challenged. I edged out the Pale Beast and basked in the afterglow of my first post-cliff victory. We won’t mention the fact there were like 40 people in the race and half of them walkers. A win is a win, baby.

But since I had missed a few YMCA races last year, and my Resurrection victory surely bringing in people that were actually fast, I opted for the Bunny Hop. It was definitely not a wise trophy hunting maneuver, and I was pretty sure Brandenburg was going to make me pay for it. However, perhaps I could make up for it with a double dip. The rebranded race Judicata, now the “WIL (USC women in law) to run” was going on at 10:30. With the Bunny Hop relatively nearby and 2 hours between start times, this would be a pretty easy one. I decided to make it a last second decision – I would wait to see how Bunny Hop went and then pull the trigger if I was up to it.

When I got to the Columbia YMCA that morning, I could tell this was the mother of all bad trophy hunting decisions. The place was crawling with blazing fast people.  Right off the bat I saw Ashton, Striggles, Bishop, Jason Dimery, Angel, the Yerg, Michael Nance, Parker Roof, Shawanna, and Eric and Sarah Allers.  It was like Cold Winter’s Day in April.  I did a q short warmup with Jeff Godby, who I suddenly realized was now back in my age group with me aging up to 40. At least I didnt have to deal with Rob, Angel, OJ and Nance. When Trophy got there a little later with Jamey, I promptly informed him he would be good to place in the top 10 of the 35-39. I’m always a good friend like that.  Lots of CRC/TeamUtopia/Palmetto/Strictly peeps on board – Ivanka and Eliere Tolan, Ashley Horton, Kana Rahman, Brittany Robbins, Carol Wallace, Israel, Coleen Strasburger, J-Lybrand, J-Reeves, Luci Velicu, Hrechko, Talkington, Cait Costello, Laurin Long,  Will Brumbach, Joe Roof were just a few of the people I remember seeing at the start.

Let me clue you in to my finely tuned 5k strategy… run like hell until you want to puke. Yep, there is no saving up for the second race. Once the bib is pinned, it is on like Donkey Kong. And this course sets up nicely for a fast time. Basically an out and back course with 2 track-like loops at the end. About as flat as you can imagine in downtown Columbia, starting and ending at the Columbia YMCA. The loops are probably the most challenging, since you have to maneuver through the back of the pack on the second lap. For my agile physique, this is akin to plowing a speeding bus through a crowd without running over anybody.

I actually eschewed my usual grandiose practice of toeing the line to let people who were actually talented start in front. With the gun, we all took off WAY TOO FAST. With all the blazing people around, it was hard not to get caught up in the cattle stampede. The first quarter is pretty much flat, followed by a left turn with a very slight decline all the way to the loop area. People were totally getting it. I was trying to throw down hard, but damned if  Jennifer Lybrand wasn’t killing me in the first half mile, Sarah Allers was breathing down my neck and Will Brumbach had firmly attached himself to my hip. Angel and Talkington were leaving me for dead. I was really confused by the pace – with all the people around I assumed I was going slower than usual. Maybe even 6:30?? We hit the first part of loop 1 near the mile marker, where I distinctly remember telling Parker Roof that he was going too fast in 2013. My, have times have changed. Anyway, mile 1 comes back in 6:08, so apparently either everyone is going sub 19 or there was a lot of coffee drinking this morning. The outer part of the loop has a couple of subtle inclines that make the wind suckage commence. Still a long way to go for that. I catch up to Angel and pass him, which means he’s either sick or not racing. Rounding the last corner of the loop I finally catch Talkington, who is still coming back from some time off. Dude decided to run like a 6 flat first mile, so I guess he was a little excited about racing again. Second lap is all about the juking and jiving. Walkers first then the back of the pack runners. The walkers are always tougher because they are prone to sudden movements and not paying attention, but luckily everyone is staying in their place. I assume Eric, Justin and Striggles blowing by them at 5 minute pace probably caught their attention earlier. I am able to find some good seams but the corners are a little tricky. I see MC Cox and Rob up ahead so I try to stay within their ballpark. Mile 2 is like 6:07 and I’m suddenly aware of the sub 19 possibility.  I am hurting pretty bad but give me a time goal and some people to track down, and I will spelunk the pain cave to new depths. Suddenly I’ve caught up to Rob and MC and pass them, which is highly unusual. I haven’t beaten Rob in years and MC usually takes me down too. Once we leave the track loops and head back to the Y, I throw down as hard as I can. It’s a long way, and Yerger’s ghost is riding me the whole way. I ‘m also afraid Brumbach is going to come back and spank me like the Crit and the Wild Run. I turn the last corner and hope for the 18’s, though I realize my Garmin has beeped mile 3 pretty early. I see the clock turn over to 19:00 as I hit the final stretch.  I’m on fumes, but I do a little headless chicken and hit the tape at 19:14.  Dang. A good time for me but a big disappointment after the first 2 miles. My Garmin has 3.16, though course is certified. Looks like I’ll need to practice my Adrian Peterson moves a little better on lap 2 next year.

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/737342959

Awards were at 9:30, so I hung around to see if I got anything. The whole time I had decided to forget the double dip. Thanks to my new found old age, I was able to slip into third in the 40-44. I knew I’d lose to Eric Allers, but damned if Toby Selix hadn’t slipped in all stealth-like and took 2nd place. Oh well, this being a YMCA/Erin Roof race, swag was great as always with a Bunny Hop coffee travel mug. Sure beats another medal.

In the overall, Eric Ashton had some competition this time, but was able to beat out Striggles (2nd) and Justin (3rd) in 16 minutes flat. I would have liked to see those guys throw down, but I was in another zip code.  Among the ladies, Shawanna White crushed the field and nearly took down Eric Allers in 18:06 for the win. I believe this was a post hip surgery PR for the “Peachrunner”.  Well done. Shana! Caroline Peyton took 2nd in 18:20 with MC Cox taking third in 19:25.

Age group honor roll: Nine year old Madelyn Gomez, with dad Derek in tow, crushed a 26:26 to take first in the 8-10.  Sophia Bilbao, running with dad Israel, won 2nd in the 11-13. Parker Roof is done with Sasquatch pacing and ran  18:11 to take the 14-16. Alex Robertson placed 3rd. Brittany Robbins (TUS)  eked out a win in the 14-16 girls by like 5 minutes. TUS’ David Russell and Sr’s Jen Lybrand were the class of the 25-29. Jason Dimery rocked a sub 18 to win the 30-34. Ashley Sears and Katie rose went 1-2 in the ladies’ 30-34. In the 35-39 men, TUS’ Michael Nance and the Yerg took the top two spots, with 621 ninja Will Brumbach 3rd. Ivanka Tolan (TUS) and Lucia Velicu (Palmetto) won on the ladies side. In the 40-44 women, Shannon Iriel started her comeback from a long bout with plantar with a strong 20:35. Healthy Cap race director Shenequa Coles took 2nd.  Randy Hrechko blue shoed J-Lybrand and the Trophy in the final stretch and won the 45-49. Barb “Blandenburg” (why couldn’t they have done that to Jeff) , Pam Inman (Palmetto) and Sandra Riccuito swept the 45-49 women. The 50-54 women were blazing, with Sarah Allers (Reckless) taking the win over Lisa King and Coleen Strasburger. Eliere Tolan (TUS) outpaced Joe Roof and Phil Togneri in the 50-54 men. Carol Wallace was once again the 55-59 champ, viciously outkicking pal Coleen. Sue Porter and Lisa Smarr (with bunny ears) placed 2nd and 3rd. Tommy Kahaly and Rick Gibbons just aged up and rocked the 55-59 men. Mike Compton and Pete Poore took 1st and 3rd in the 60-64.  Ken Lowden threw down a 27:42 and took 2nd in the 65-69, with Ron Hagell 3rd. Patti Lowden won the ladies’ 65-69, and ageless Henry Holt took the 70+.

And as I strolled back to my car, the double dip temptation proved too much to bear. I was in.

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/15BUNNYHOP.TXT

Climb the Clay 5k – Saluda Shoals Park – Columbia, SC – 3/28/15

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Climb the Clay was previously known as the Earth Fair 8k for several years – a trail race through Saluda Shoals Park in Irmo. A couple of years ago, they scrapped the Earth Fair (this was a festival at the park, not the crunchy supermarket, that’s Earth FARE) and that left the race all by itself. Luckily, Smith Harden, the race director and a Saluda Shoals ranger, kept the race afloat and renamed it “Climb the Clay”.  “The Clay” in question is a miserable mountain of slippery red mud in the middle of the park. It happens in the first mile of the race and sucks every bit of life out of you right away. But hey, there’s no mistaking it’s there, so might as well advertise it.

I really like this race. Its small, has no chip timing and usually draws the same people every year. Held during the Cooper River Bridge weekend, it’s that race’s polar opposite. Yes, I love the little mom-and-pop races for trophy hunting purposes, but I also like the personal feel of small, local, non-corporate events like this one. No zumba warmups, no gimmicks, no generic running-themed songs blasting out of a start line loudspeaker. Just a bunch of people who actually enjoy running and racing by itself. I know…novel concept.

I do need to mention it is a trail race, which is a huge handicap for me. My lack of agility and grace on singletrack switchbacks has been well documented elsewhere. Little short and light dudes can scamper all over the forest.  I am more elephant stampede through the jungle. Still, I have had a couple of overall podium finishes here. Most notable was an epic throwdown between myself and the Code in 2013, where I just missed out catching a dying Darrell as he bonked into the win. Our battle was set up by David He, who so graciously decided to take himself out by running (in the lead) the wrong way with headphones, impervious to our screams to right him. At least we tried.

I showed up about 45 minutes to showtime, and damn it was cold for late March. Mid 30’s. Those bridge runners must have been hating life waiting out in the corrals. As soon as I  finish my registration at the table, I turn around and I’m temporarily blinded by the sun. Approaching is the shadow of an all-too familiar silohuette, my masters nemesis, Brandenburg. In an all-out war of Columbia area running psychiatrists, JB has made it his mission to crush any chance I have at winning masters on the Tour de Columbia. He’s now in the triple digits. I have 3 points thanks to my March birthday and my epic fail at Get to the Green. I really need him to start missing races, so I can pull off the Blue Shoes special: quantity over quality. Oh well, still 8 months left. Bring it.

Also on board for this race is JB’s neighbor and fellow Wes Spratt abuser Tom Beattie. Wife Barb is also there to pick up a perennial podium spot. Dina Mauldin, Melinda Petruzzi, Rocky, Stephanie “Stevie Dee” Dukes, Pete Poore, Henry Holt, Brigitte Smith, Mario and Jennifer Tudor, Joe Naylor and Sue Porter are there to represent the Columbia Running Club. About 50 total signed up.

The course, typically an 8k, has been shortened to a 5k because of construction. I’m not totally sure, but I think the Silver Fox 5k course was mostly used – that race and CTC have a lot of overlap anyway.

With the start, Brandenburg and quite a few kids blast out in front of me as we make our way down the power line cut towards the eponymous mountain ahead. The course is as expected – it rained a ton the night before and there is a lot of puddle/mud dodging right away. I try not to get too carried away early on, and I let JB go..for now. Sure enough, the clay monster rears its ugly head just a half mile into the race and all those speedy kids suddenly arent so speedy. I power up the clay wall with the freak quads and do well for a while. Unfortunately the last little bit sent me into oxygen debt overdrive and I’m panting like an overheated grizzly by the top. The Clay has taken its toll – only JB and a high schoolish girl are ahead of me.

After a brief open stretch at the top, we plunge into the forest for the first time. I hit mile 1 soon after but I didnt bother to look at the Garmin. The first half of mile 2 is all rolling, winding single track. There are a couple of screaming downhill stretches and one sudden, near 180 degree turn that brings me to a virtual stop. I feel sorry for the girl in front of me. The whole time she must hear some giant dude breathing down her neck and matching her every step. But she isnt giving in a bit. My 19ish 5k times typically has me racing high school cross country girls all the time. And they are brutal. Elbows flying they will cut you off and leave you for dead if they can. Just evil. I still have nightmares of the Bythewood 5k a few years back when Dutch Fork’s Hope Whisman, all of like 14 years old,  mowed me down in the last half mile. Not a proud moment. I also got the beat down by DF’s Anna Jenkins and Bri Hartley a couple of times last year. Epically chicked.

At about 1.5 miles the course spits you back out at the bottom of the clay mountain and makes you do another hairpin turn, which I’m sure I executed ever so gracefully. Or not. More sloppy but open trail, then a beautifully straight and paved section. Brandenburg is visible but way up ahead. I’m still riding this poor high school girl’s back like an overgrown monkey. Finally we hit the 2 mile mark and the girl either tires some or just cant take the emotional trauma of being stalked by an Albino Sasquatch.  Daria Yoder, I am forever sorry for your nightmares.

With a mile to go, I start ramping up the pace and trying to track down JB. Unfortunately he has a monster lead but I can feel him reeling back in some. The course winds some through the woods but has more open stretches. There’s two crazy mini-ravines where I nearly bust my ass. We hit a straight section at about 2.5 miles in and I see I’ve made up some pretty nice ground on Brandenburg. I’m sucking some pretty serious wind by now but I try to throw down the best I can. Forget the puddle dodging now – I’m plowing straight through the mud – trail blue shoes be damned. Apparently the volunteer temporarily led JB in the wrong direction because when I hit a road area he’s pretty close. Unfortunately I suddenly recognize where we are, near the entrance guard shack, and I know I have no chance. Sure enough, I turn the corner just in time to see Jeff cross the finish, defending his 2014 title.

I cross the line about 20 seconds later in 21:26, 2nd overall. Anytime I end up on the overall podium I’m happy, though seeing JB claiming another victory isn’t much fun. Kind of like getting a Ken Vowles beat down.

Daria Yoder did claim 1st female, despite never being able to enter the forest again without rabid grizzy bear flashbacks. Not entirely sure on the age groups or other overall winners, since only names on the results. I think Jennifer Conrick won female masters. Melinda Petruzzi, Mario and Jennifer Tudor, Rocky, Henry, Joe Naylor, Tom Beattie, Barb, Stevie Dee, Pete and Sue Porter all won AG awards as I recall. Awesome pint glass awards again this year. Thanks to Smith Harden for putting on this cool race. He goes out and paints every root and marks every turn, so major props go out to him for all his hard work!

http://www.icrc.net/Data/Sites/1/media/events/final-times.pdf

 

 

 

 

 

 

Palmetto 200 – Columbia to Charleston – 3/20-3/21/15

 

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Relay time! The Palmetto 200 has become a fixture on the Blue Shoes racing calendar since I first got involved with the relay in its first year of existence in 2010. Although I died a thousand deaths in that first year, complete with walksies, f-bombs and hallucinations, I came back, and the rest is history. 2015 marks my 6th consecutive year with Team Van on The Run (VOTR) in our never-ending pursuit of relay glory.

For the uninitiated, the Palmetto 200 is a 200 mile, 36 leg relay starting in Columbia and ending in Charleston. The full team is 12 people running 3 legs apiece, but they also have ultra teams with as few as 4 people. Dan Hartley even did a 2 person team a few years back, which in my professional opinion, is completely batshit insane. It should be known that 90 percent of the teams involved are totally in it for the experience, and God forbid …for fun.  They share reflective vests, stroll up to the line, head off in a jog, etc, etc. Not VOTR. We like to spike our fun with some maniacally competitive , balls-to-the-wall adrenaline.  We have 4×100 style relay exchanges and full-on race face, grab your knees, gasping for breath finishes. Are we elite? Hells no. Are we local age groupers hell bent on overachieving? You bet.

The master of our relay world is our fearless leader, Brian “EL CAPITAN” Clyburn. His masterpiece is the multi-page, color-coded, individually-paced spreadsheet. The thing is a sight to behold. If everything goes to plan, you can predict down to the minute when each runner will arrive at each exchange zone. He even has done corrective factors for heat and humidity in previous incarnations, though luckily temperature was not a factor at the new, earlier relay date.

Did I mention individually paced? Last year I was still in post-cliff recovery and Brian gave me a 7:30 pace,  actually the slowest on the team. While appropriate given my extended recovery, my giant noggin doesnt deal well with ego blows, and I spent the entire 2014 relay making sure to blow the spreadsheet all to hell giving a 1000 percent effort to match my old 7:05 pace. My reward for 2015 – 6:45. And 18 miles. Well, no sandbagging for me this year. This was going to be rough.

spreadsheet1

Keep in mind…this is only page one of five.

 

On top of that, we were the walking wounded. Enterprise gave us a black van for Van 2 this year, and we immediately named it ‘The Hearse”. David “D-Mac” McNiece was nursing a nasty ankle injury , Brian had a gimp knee following a marathon DNF, and Joel had a tweaked hamstring. Oh, and Julie was in the ER with possible appendicitis less than a week earlier. And they kept it in. I told her my surgical skills were a little suspect this far out from medical school, especially with a headlamp and a pocket knife. But hey, girl’s gotta have priorities.  Jen Clyburn was less than 3 weeks out from her BQ 3:28 marathon and perennial ringer Andy McNiece was supposedly not in the peak of shape either. Van 1 was praying to the relay gods that one of our gimpy brethren would not drop out and make us run a dreaded 4th leg.

I was in Van 1 this year again, with all the supposedly healthy dudes. Darrell “The Code” Brown, who is perhaps the only person with more relay enthusiasm than me, was sadly out with an injury. Replacing him was grandmaster beast of the local racing circuit, Geary McAlister. Back for a second year was Ty Thomas, fresh off a PR at Lexington Race Against Hunger and a brutal blue shoeing of the Sasquatch himself. Ty enlisted new recruit Dan Carter, who I apparently bashed as one of the “superfit soccer dads” that terrorize my old 35-39 age group at Ray Tanner.  He was definitely our fastest. Brandon and Conner were also back for what has to be their 3rd or 4th time as well.

The relay start was moved this year from the Old speedway in West Columbia to the much more picturesque Coble Plaza behind Edventure on the river.  We were given the last start time at 12:00 noon on Friday, which they assign to the teams with the fastest projected pace. The idea is to have all the teams finish around the same time in Charleston on Saturday afternoon, this time at Patriots Point in Mt. Pleasant. The slowest teams leave at 5:30 am, because you always want to go into 36 hours of no sleep a little tired.  Being in the last group, thoughts of trophies start to enter into our grandiose heads. We won the coed full team division in 2013 and managed the top full team in 2014, though we were bested once again by the Clemson Thundercats ( a bunch of college kids) ultra team. The Thundercats fielded a slower team this year, so we were up against  Paul Reardon’s Sole Asylum (full), The Banditos (full) , 50 shades of fast (ultra) and Make it Hurt (ultra).  After some requisite van decorating we went down to the start line. I had to replace Code Brown for his annual toilet picture – to which he wanted to make clear he was “not dead”.

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With the start, Geary comes tearing out of the gates in the lead and we have to high tail it to the first exchange zone, where I’m up for my first leg, a 6.05 miler. This is the dreaded poop zone, next to the water treatment plant. What’s worse is that everybody and their mom has already gone through and committed unholy sins in the 2 provided porta potties. Those images still scar my mind. Thanks to Barefoot John’s family (wife Char and dad Andy) for providing some emergency TP and being a race volunteer. The girl from 50 shades comes through first out of the forest and some lanky 20 something in neon orange blasts out of the zone. About 20-30 seconds later here comes Geary in a full sprint and off I go.

The 6 miles is mostly on the dirt Old State Rd.  It is obviously close to Columbia but feels like its in the middle of nowhere. The road is blocked off from vehicles so its just me, the mud, and neon dude in the distance. It rained a lot in the hours leading up to the race, so it’s hard to lock into a pace with all the puddle jumping. You do not want to get wet shoes and get a case of swampfoot brewing for 24 hours in an enclosed van. That was  last year. I was trying to hit 6:45 but getting all excitable in the beginning led to a 6:20 something. I’d better rein in in if I’m doing 18 miles. The next few miles kind of suck – it’s dead quiet and neon dude is slowly leaving me for dead. At least its mostly flat.  In a weird coincidence I suddenly find myself on the 5k course for the March for Meals. Makes me think about Brandenburg inevitably upping his masters lead on the TDC this weekend. Four miles in I have to do a complete stop to do some rural parkour over a concrete barrier  blocking the path and its tough to get going again, but at least I’m back on concrete. I do peek over my shoulder and there’s one guy way off in the distance. Mile 5 is on asphalt but has a painful overpass of I-26 which about kills me. Of course my van gets to see me dying on the hill, my form already going to hell. One last turn just past the 5 mile mark, and I’m pretty close to 6:45 pace. I suddenly get scared the dude behind me may be some beast and tracking me down, so I throw down pretty hard. The last stretch is on Charleston highway, filled with huge trucks and lots of traffic, so I’m dodging onto the shoulder every chance I get. Finally I get a break in the traffic so I can cross over, and I’m sure these people are convinced the Sasquatch myth is real. I’m sucking wind pretty bad but I gotta look strong in the exchange zone. Yeah, not so much. I give Brandon the bracelet at the Kangaroo zone and I’m pretty much toast. Six miles in 40:06, 6:41 pace. Man these other legs are going to be rough.

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Luckily we have about an hour to kill since Brandon has a miserable 9 miler that about took my life in 2010. I get a ginormous loaded sub at Subway and wolf it down on the way to the next zone. I used to be a crackers and GU relayer, but that is a recipe for disaster – you need calories for staying up all night and racing each leg hard. Thankfully it’s cloudy out because Leg 3 is deadly in the heat with all the exposed road. Brandon got tracked down by some freakishly fast guy but crushed his leg well below spreadsheet pace. Conner then drew the dreaded 2.6. This is the leg that Trophy complained about the whole time in 2012. Although I mocked him endlessly for his bitching and moaning, I got a vicious karmic payback by having to do it last year. I about died – the last mile is 100 percent up a brutal mountain. You will definitely not feel fly after this two-six. Sure enough Conner looks like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest at the exchange zone but again in sub-spreadsheet pace. Dan took the bracelet from there and proceeded to just destroy whatever lead the other teams had, roadkilling everybody on a hilly 10k in like 38 minutes. Nice recruit, Ty. I like him better when he’s not stealing my trophies at Ray Tanner. Speaking of Ty, he was the most unlucky to get Leg 6, probably the worst in the whole relay. Eight total miles, with about 4-5 miles of rolling hills before hitting one of the most unholy of mountains in the midlands. I have yet to see a picture that does it justice. It basically disappears beyond your line of sight into the sky. It brings almost everyone to a walk, and Ty was no exception. I think its probably best to catch some walksies on  the steepest section anyway. Ty was all mad when he finished, cursing  the fact he didnt meet his time on the sheet. Believe me, there wasn’t anyone complaining about his pace – we were just thanking El Capitan for not bestowing us with that misery. Ty passed off to Joel in van 2 and we in van 1 were off for several hours.

At the van turnover zone, Sole Asylum was waiting. They had a couple of minutes on us at this point, as Lee Moore, one of the fastest Fitness World runners, had torched leg 6. These guys were going to be tough. Paul himself is a 17 minute 5ker and ex-Francis Marion beast in the lineage of Mark Bedenbaugh and Ryan Plexico. Besides Lee and Paul, they recruited Angel Manuel, terror of my age group and always good for kicking my ass in just about any distance. I think they had other beasts like Gene Grimsley and Mario Alvarez too. And, they were riding in style in church buses with beds and a TV. We were praying that maybe some of their others were considerably slower because they would crush us with their top end.

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We headed to Cracker Barrel in Santee, SC for “dinner” though I don’t even think it was 5 o’clock. Somehow I ate some chicken fingers too. I think I was trying to gain weight on this relay. We spent the rest of the downtime laid out in Santee State park , the site of the next van turnover. It was pretty crowded with all the teams starting to come together. We all tried to sleep some but I don’t think any of us really crashed out. Ty brought an awesome portable hammock that I must have before next year. There was a Jim Lichty and Jason Lockhart sighting, straight out of Moore dorm 1993. They were part of the huge F3 contingent this year – must have been like 20 teams.

The Hearse came rolling into the station after dark when most of the earlier teams had cleared out. They were all hurting but had apparently kept up our sub-spreadsheet pace (team pace was 7:22 projected). Sole Asylum was right on our heels, a couple of minutes behind. Banditos and the two ultra teams had faded a bit. Brandon took leg 13, a straight but steady incline up to Lone Star BBQ, site of the best mid-relay meal I ever had a couple of years ago.  Geary followed with the leg I’ve done twice before, a route right through the middle of Santee with tons of traffic and sidewalks. All the locals look at you like you’re totally insane. And they’d be right.

My leg is next, from Lake Marion High school on Tee Vee Rd. The location is difficult to pinpoint, but I like to refer to it as the epicenter of nowhere. Pitch black and hardly a soul around….save for a few dozen white vans and about a 100 caffeinated relayers. Our volunteer, Miranda, is there keeping track of it all with 3 kids in tow. For that, and taking 200 bucks off our entry fee, I am eternally grateful. My kids would be staging a revolt over being out of wifi range.

Geary hands off to me again and I’m off on my 8.8 miler. Dead flat, dead straight, dark as can be. It’s tough – outside of  the halo of my headlamp you can’t see crap. The complete darkness is broken up every few minutes by a car, usually with high beams, going about 55 mph ,and being 10 pm on a Friday night – of questionable sobriety. Luckily I’m lit up like Times Square with my multiple red blinkies and a petzl headlamp that can be seen from outer space. Still, I’m dodging into the grass every time. I’ve met my major trauma quota for this decade, thank you. I am eternally thankful I hit 6:44 on mile 1, since all I need to do now is hold this. It’s actually not too hard since it is totally pancake-sque out here. After a few miles I finally encounter a few other runners and take down three of them. I’m paranoid the whole time of Sole Asylum catching me. It feels like the ghost of Paul Reardon is chasing me into Holly Hill. I hear Angel with their bus at one point, though I can barely see them. Angel feeds into my fear, telling me they are right on my tail. I’m bleeding a few seconds here and there, hitting mostly around 6:50 miles. The I-95 overpass is cool, thinking about how much distance we’ve covered, though the accompanying hill isn’t any fun. Pacing is so difficult when the only stimuli are your breathing, the lights bouncing on your vest and the mind-numbing glow of your headlamp. Finally I hit mile 8 and decide I have to ramp it up to get back some seconds. I pick it up a bit and throw down the last bit, hitting a 6:32 split and 6:46 overall. Almost perfect. I’ll take it.

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And surprisingly I feel OK. Not jumping for joy for a 3.7 miler at O dark thirty, but a lot better than in previous years. Especially after using the Target AME church facilities. I don’t know what church activities they do, but apparently a pimped out lounge room bathroom is necessary. Hey, I loved it.  Conner took the next leg straight through Holly Hill, the site of my Subway denial last year. He then passed off to Ty, who attacked his 2.7 miler with a vengeance, pouring all his angst from leg 6 into like a 6:30 pace. He was rewarded for his efforts with a whole bounty of roadkill. Nice work. Dan then headed off on a most miserable 9.67 miler that was like a longer version of mine. We had started catching up with all the other teams at this point and Dan must have blown by these guys like they were standing still, crushing low 6 pace. The long leg gave us a chance to have an extended layover at the next van turnover zone at St Paul’s United. They were selling do it yourself sandwiches, chips and a drink for 6 bucks. This may seem like a lot, but Cross, SC is not exactly crawling with dining opportunities at midnight. Works for me. It was awesome.

Dan rocked out his leg and with everyone else (save for my 8 second overage) crushing the spreadsheet, we were like 18 minutes ahead of pace. Geary has a thing about hot food, so we headed to Waffle House immediately thereafter in Moncks Corner. Apparently it is the place to be in the MC, because it was freaking packed at 2 am. I zonked out in the van or awhile since I think I had met my 4000 calories for the day. After that we journeyed to the final van turnover at Witherbee Ranger Station in Francis Marion state forest. It had drizzled a little but I wasnt about to sleep in the van again like my misery from last year. I crashed under a tree with about 10 other people all laid out like Jonestown under a tree. It was surprisingly comfortable with my pillow and sleeping bag and I got probably an hour or so of hardcore sleep, which is absolutely golden in these relays.

I wake up ahead of schedule and start moseying my way to the portapotty. When I get out, a frantic Brandon is already in full gear and says we have to get ready NOW. Damn, I thought those Van 2ers were all gimps! Sure enough, they are 20+ minutes ahead of schedule and Brandon takes off while I’m still getting ready. Suddenly I’m pounding a Starbucks Double Shot, throwing back some ibuprofen and trying desperately to get my body to ignore the fact its 4:30 am. We journey to the next exchange zone which is like Grand Central Station. Its the old “House of Horrors” zone, but people are just forgoing the Blair witch project bathroom area and parking on the side of the road for like a quarter mile. They must have read the blog from years past. I do a brief warmup in the dirt parking lot but I barely have a chance to stride up to the exchange area when Brandon is shouting Van on the Run and cruising into the zone at Mach 5.  I take off like a man possessed, ready to get this miserable third leg behind me. Leg 26 is 3.7 miles, of which I swear is almost all uphill.

Uphill or not, I basically empty the tank on this one, giving close to 5k effort. Between the uphill, 4:30 time and 15 miles under my belt, I’m only getting 6:30ish in return, but it feels like about 30 seconds faster. Roadkill is in very ample supply by now, and I’m sure all of these guys are having nightmares of the crazed grizzly sprinting past them gasping and moaning.  Like leg 2, you cant see a damn thing. I keep thinking there’s a downhill finish, having done this leg at least once before, but it never comes. I hold steady at 6:30 and I realize at the last second that the end is not over the next hill, but right in front of me. So much for the blue shoe kick I had planned to throw down. Still got 6:31 pace for the 3.7 and  a couple of minutes chopped off the spreadsheet.

Nothing feels more awesome than getting that leg 3 under your belt and being done. True, the van one legs are 2/3 in the dark in the middle of nowhere, but the upside is being able to relax for 5+ hours at the end. Maybe it’s endorphins, but I actually don’t feel too wrecked. Geary took the next 7.47 miler, which gave me vague PTSD from my 2010 P200, where I was hallucinating and walking on that leg. I still dont know how I recovered to finish that leg. Conner followed with the second of the twin 7.47’s cruising through the last of Francis Marion forest and hitting Highway 17. The Seewee outpost is my favorite exchange zone, with its coffee and to-die-for sausage biscuits (usually by this time the McDonald long run scale has left the Scarlett Johanssen zone and is firmly in the sausage biscuit area).  It also means you have left Deliverance-esque woods and have finally hit the outskirts of Charleston. I love me the Seewee. Dan takes it from Conner and has a straight shot down Hwy 17, just killing it. The next zone is a torture chamber of mosquitoes and gnats but Ty figures you can avoid them if you run fast enough. He has my final leg from 2014, which I ran in a blinding monsoon and screaming out at God’s wrath for torturing me so. OK, so I tend to be a touch overdramatic. Ty has it considerably easier, cruising through Mt. P neighborhoods and taking down what little roadkill is left. By the time he hands off to the Capitan, we are sitting almost a half hour ahead of schedule, and about 45 minutes clear of Sole Asylum. After a careful check to make sure no 11 am team has done some astronomic sandbagging, we realize we are on the verge of the overall win.

But it hardly feels in the bag – Van 2 started out hurting and now is running on fumes. David’s got like a grapefruit for an ankle and Brian was limping. Thankfully Julie has held on to her internal organs. Joel’s hamstring is a wreck.  We are already debating who might have to bite the bullet for a leg 4. Of course, we pretty much wreck our ability to do so with an epic IHOP trip. I think my french toast/sausage/eggs/hashbrown combo was the lightest among my group. Dan partook in the Colorado omelet, which looks like it could feed a family of six.

When we finally head to the finish line at Patriots Point, its a complete ghost town. Nothing is set up, save for some beautiful virgin portapotties. I fear that we may not get an official time for beating the race organizers there, but luckily the finish line area goes up within a half hour. We actually are not the first to finish, as a 9 am start team rolls in around 11ish, along with another early start team soon after. We are ever so thankful to hear from the other van that everyone made it through, and that only our last runner, Andy, was out on the course. Sure enough, 23 hours and 53 minutes after our start, Andy comes tearing into the park and we cross the finish line together: 2015 Palmetto 200 overall champs!

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Clock is 6.5 hours ahead, starting at 5:30 am Friday

 

Sixth time’s a charm! The finish line setup was awesome with tons of beer and tacos. Capitan was able to get our victory glasses from the organizers, give one of his patented speeches, then we drank from the awards and ate from Julie’s 30th birthday cake. Pretty sweet. Lucky number 7 in 2016!

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/726001381

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/726001359

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/726001331

http://www.palmetto200.com/palmetto200/2015-results

 

 

 

 

Get to the Green 5k/10k – Columbia,SC – 3/14/15

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Get to the Green has been around about 10 years, starting as a smaller road race and growing into one of the biggest in the state. It’s tied into the St Patty’s Day festival in Five Points, one of the mid 90’s-Blue Shoes favorite events of the year. Somehow I’ve made it out to this race every year since 2009, despite the fact that its super competitive and one of the least likely trophy opportunities of my racing schedule. They did start offering a 10k a few years ago, which created the undercard factor. The 5k event has still been the main race, though the 10k seems to be gaining traction among the elites.

Things started off well for me in this race. In 2009, I was still a pre-blue shoes running noob, and I was thrilled with my new 22:27 PR. I about died doing it, and one of my early race faces was captured:

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Yeah that’s me on the far right, not wearing a stitch of green and looking like I’m doing some sleepwalking slow dance. I do notice my giant clodhopper stability shoes are blue. Good choice. See also Jeanna Moffett running in long pants and a jacket. I think it was 40 degres and rainy. I recognized a guy who finished just in front of me from high school, barely breaking 22 minutes. His name: Tyler McGaha, aka Trophy. FYI, it would be his last Blue Shoes 5k victory until I fell off a cliff.

2010 was also a banner year. One race removed from my first sub 20 (19:58) in the maiden blue shoes performance, I clocked a 19:31 and chopped 27 seconds off my PR, and I would never race in another color shoe again.  My finish photos from that race were diminished somewhat by the OG absolutely crushing me in the last 50 meters. See below:

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Also note Barrett Boozer in the old school 621 ninjas shirt and Geary kicking it in. 2011 was 19:20ish but sadly, no pics survive. In 2012 I did about the same and managed to score my first age group trophy, though only because they decided to go 5 deep. Pic with Sarah Allers and Greg Howell:

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The suckage started in 2013, when I tweaked my back and foolishly decided to race anyway, barely clearing 20 minutes in 19:56. In 2014 I was still in post cliff recovery and for some reason chose my personal demon, the 10k. I had an epic battle for the ages with Ted Hewitt in the final stretch, and just edged him to get 42:52. Also a bonus, super ugly race face and a very poor decision to wear 10 year old Irish boxers.

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Which brings us to the present. I decided to do the 10k again, as I’ve made the sub 40 my goal for 2015. I was disappointed in a less than stellar performance at the Lexington Race Against Hunger, but I still got a 40:56 on a crazy hilly course. Surely I could flirt with a low 40 on the much flatter Get to the Green, and maybe even the elusive 39:59. Yeah…we’ll get back to that.

Things have been rough this week. My disease vectors, I mean lovely children, have been playing hot potato with some virulent Polo road elementary respiratory bug, and I’ve been battling the snot wars at home. I did two runs this week in the 80 degree heat and felt like complete death, so I just bagged it on Thursday and Friday. I decided to go to Henry’s with the fam on Friday and the draft beers were calling my name a little too loudly, so its always good to wake up at 4 am all dehydrated and cotton-mouthed. Apparently its not 1996 anymore.

Which reminded me – this is my first masters race. After years of battling the most brutal 35-39 group in history, I do get a few months of reprieve before the rest of my 1975 brethren come back to haunt me.

This year’s weather was about as bad as 2009. I woke up the sound of raindrops, and by the time I jumped in my car it was pouring. I was running late, and apparently the same train that ruined the 2012 Fallen Heroes race decided to roll in and park on the tracks. Luckily I know the roads of Columbia like the back of my hand, because I had to fly down Rosewood and Assembly to get over to the other side where the start was in Maxcy Gregg park. By the time I got my packet and Chernobylized a portapotty, I was racing back to my car so I wouldn’t miss the start. I guess that counted as my “warm up”. I forgot my oh-so-cool spibelt fanny pack and decided to just hold my iPhone.

The 10k start (7:30) was 30 minutes ahead of the 5k. The front was crawling with elite studs. Bishop was on hand with Eric Ashton and a bunch of lean singlet types. I got there so late I couldn’t fully scope the competition, but Chris Fawver shows up and tells me my new nemesis Toby Selix just turned 40 today. Damn, I can’t catch a break. Eric Allers is also there to make sure I don’t think about masters wins, though I completely forgot Ashton had that in the bag already. Trophy, Jamey, Luke Godwin, Angel, Ron Hagell, Barrett, Randy and Matt Pollard are some of the familiar faces.

http://gettothegreen.com/10k-2015.pdf

The start is a mob scene due to all the fast peeps. About a quarter mile in, I’m in a loose pack of Luke Godwin, Barrett,  Sarah Allers and a few randoms. I’m also acutely aware that there is something very, very wrong. I feel horrible and there’s zero energy. Not the best way to feel with 6 miles to go, but I hang in there thinking that it will pass. Blossom is straight and flat at first and then becomes a long incline up to King St. Not fun, but not too bad. Once you’re on King Street, you’ve entered into the Shandon rectangle that is 2 laps for the 10k, 1 for the 5. Mile 1 seems like forever, and I hit it at 6:35. I figure this is pretty good, given the hill. Still haven’t shaken the bad feeling though. There’s a long stretch on Heyward and I can already feel the wheels falling off. I feel like death but I keep hoping things will get better. Somebody is riding me like monkey on my back, which is pretty common since I make an excellent wind barrier. Finally Howie Phan has had enough of my dawdling and leaves me.  I actually hit mile 2 in 6:38, but I am just toast. I am actually still trying to go race pace, but I’m getting nothing in return. Barrett and Howie have left me for dead and I can feel my pace start to slow.

When I hit mile 3 in 6:56, I realize I’m running slower than half marathon pace and I have some serious thoughts about dropping out. The finish line is right there, and it kills me to have to go back and do another lap. It’s tempting – I’m dead man running and dropping out will save me from getting passed by everyone on the second lap, maybe even Trophied. But then I think about Hawaii, and how it killed me not to run for months, and how glorious it felt to cross that first post cliff 5k finish line, even if it was seven minutes slower. F@# it – I’m finishing this thing.

Of course my newfound resolve takes another hit right away when Tigs catches me just as we start lap 2. Oh, I’m going to have to hear about this for years. I at least try to keep her in sight. Lap 2 is mostly a blur – for whatever reason, I cant muster over 6:50ish pace but I’m still trying hard. I try to focus on just maintaining this pace and somehow stop the bleeding. It seems to work. I can still plug along, pretty close to my Kiawah pace but at least I’ve lost the queasy, delirious feeling of the first few miles. I remember seeing Jen Lybrand, Carol Wallace and Coleen Strasburger cheering me on. I didn’t realize how much that helped when you are in a full-on death march. Thanks, guys. Around mile 5, Matt Buffum passes me and asks me if he’s having a career day or I’m just sucking. I hated to inform him it was the latter. I’ve never been so glad to get to Devine Street again – just a long flat stretch to the finish. Matt Pollard catches me with about 1200 meters to go and asks if I’m going to pull the Blue Shoe on him I pulled in Ray Tanner (he’s the significantly better looking dude in the photo below)

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I inform him there is little chance of that. Still, I kick it in a little bit, just to make sure he earns it, but mostly to get this thing over with. I have to give Tigs credit – I thought I might be able to catch her when he hit Devine, but she kicked it in and gave me no chance. I crossed the line in 42:22, 30th place, 4th in AG.

So, this is probably my worst race since the 2012 Wildewood Fitness Fest, and probably top 5 of all time, but I am glad I finished. And hey, still better than last year’s time. I’ll take it. Now to endure a few years of grief from Tigs and Brandenburg!

In the 10k overall, Ricky Flynn took the win in 31:42. Wow – 5:06 pace. Eric Ashton was our top local finisher, male masters champ and 4th overall in  33:45, with Justin Bishop 5th in 34:21. Among the women, team EA’s Alyssa Bloomquist and Heather Costello went 1-2, with Catherine Herring 3rd. Female masters went to Sarah Allers, rocking a very nice 41:37.

10k age group honor roll: Matthew Pollard took 2nd in the 25-29. Luke Godwin crushed a sub 40 in 39:43 and took 1st in the 35-39, followed by age group regulars Phil Midden and Angel Manuel. Ivanka Tolan won the women’s 35-39. Eric Allers and Toby Selix took the top 2 in the 40-44, with Jennifer Glass taking 2nd among the ladies. Matt Buffum won the 45-49 with Randy “Body Pump” Hrechko. Howie Phan came out of the Sasquatch shadow and took first in the 50-54. Donna freeman placed 3rd in the 55-59 with RUI’s John Ramage taking 2nd among the men. Pete Poore took 2nd in the 60-64 behind Rob Kriegshaber. Peter Mugglestone, Shawn Chillag and Ken Lowden swept the 65-69. Patti Lowden and Brigitte Smith both placed among the women.

In the 5k, Trent Binford-Walsh won in 15:53, with Greenville’s Matt Shock 2nd and Pat Burns 3rd. Kenzie Riddle won the women’s overall in 18:49 just ahead of Michelle Zeigler. Kathryn Cavanaugh placed 3rd. Male masters once again went to Jeff Brandenburg, with Chantal Faure winning among the women.

5k age groupers: Emma Charlton won the 11-14 in a sub 24 performance. Parker Roof took 2nd in the 15-19 in 18:14. Jordan Lybrand won the 25-29 in a blazing 17:06. Orinthal Striggles and Drew Williams went 1-2 in the 35-39. Whitney Keen took the 40-44. Barbara Brandenburg placed 2nd in the 45-49. Joe Roof and Travis Cowan topped a tough 50-54. Birgit Spann was all upset about her “slow” 5k but still got 1st in the 50-54 by a couple of minutes. Geary McAlister and Pete O’Boyle went 1-2 in the 55-59, with Lisa Smarr winning among the women. Bill Iskrzak and Alex Ponamarev were 1st and 3rd in a very close 65-69.

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/719675915

http://racesonline.com/events/st-pat-s-in-5-points-get-to-the-green/results/2015/search/1613/div/age/gen

 

Run Hard Marathon Relay – Columbia, SC – 3/7/15

 

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The Run Hard Marathon is in its second year,  having been miraculously thrown together last year by Jesse Harmon and company to rescue the Columbia Marathon, which itself had been resurrected in 2012. The original Columbia Marathon ran from the 80’s through about 2000 if my sources are correct. Apparently we have trouble keeping these things going in the Capital City.

Perhaps one reason is our location. Columbia was strategically built on a HILL, in an area called the SandHILLS, so you might get the idea that this race is not flat. And you’d be right. It’s unapologetically brutal, and a double looper to boot, so you get to experience it all twice. To be fair, the race embraces its hilliness and makes no bones about it being challenging. I saw they were using “Gervais : come hill or high water” as a promo slogan on their training shirts. #truth.

For me, I think its important to support our city’s marathon, so I always participate. But not in the full. I pretty much hate marathons. True, one of my greatest running achievements happened at Kiawah last year, but I had to walk in the shadow of the valley of death to do it. You have to do insane mileage to train, carefully plan out hydration and nutrition, taper accordingly, etc. I’ll take a  good 19 minute all out headless-chicken 5k any day over all of that.

So I do the relay. It started in 2013, when I got Angel Manuel, Derek Gomez , Darrell “the Code” Brown and myself together to form a supergroup of Columbia runners born in 1975. We went head to head with the fastest girls in Columbia (Shannon Iriel, Amy McDonough, Theresa Penney and Kenzie Riddle) and narrowly pulled out the victory. In 2014,  we came back with Ken “the Pale Beast” Vowles,  Tyler “Trophy” McGaha and Spence “the Young Buck” Griffin in a slightly slower but fabulously nicknamed version of Team Blue Shoes. We were still all set to be repeat champs until Randy Finn called Coach B at the Expo and fielded a thrown-together all-beast team (with Mike Hedgecock  and Steven Johnson) who promptly whipped our tails the next day. Working the CRC table at the expo, I saw all of this unfold right in front of my eyes. Like taking candy from a baby. It was tragic.

This year, there was talk of even more competition. I lost Trophy and Code, and even Ken was iffy with his gimp ankle. We decided to regroup under Team Utopia , picking up Drew Williams and our ultimate ringer, Justin Bishop. Strictly was at it again, this time under the masterminding of Larry Jourdain. He had not one but 2 teams entered, one that was all grandmaster beasts  (the old plow mules) and one that was a bunch of young guys that he was being secretive about. Ruh roh. There was a last second scratch on the plow mule team, so spring chicken Jeff Brandenburg took the spot. He was doing the oddest of double dips – finishing the 5k in time to do leg 3 of the relay. All of this to secure yet more masters points. As a restatement of the inherently obvious, he is one sick bastard.

Although I think registration was down some from last year, I was pleased to see most of the Columbia running community out for this one – either racing, pacing or volunteering. It was pretty cold (30’s) but clear and with little wind, so pretty close to ideal conditions. I did a mini warmup with Trophy and Jamey and I was ready to go . For some reason, I get way more nervous before relays than individual races. Its one thing when you suck and its all on you, and another having to share the suckage with three other people. Being the team organizer,  and resident attention whore, I gave myself the first leg – 5 miles from the state house to Brennan Elementary.

So I went out hard. Way hard… apparently taking the race name a little too seriously. The first half mile is a nice little tour around the state house and main street past Hunter Gatherer, Sandy’s and whatever resort-like dorm they put up in place of my beloved freshman towers (kids these days). Pretty flat. I’m a little confused because I don’t see anyone else with a relay baton. All I do see are super fit dudes with singlets that appear perplexed by this Clydesdalian Sasquatch in their midst. They are already chatting about sub 2:50 marathons while I’m panting like a rabid gorilla in heat beside them.  Ok , this is good, lets shoot for that 6:20ish pace you had planned. We then take a left and down the Blossom Street hill that is the bane of every Gov Cup racer’s existence. It feels great to just let gravity work and ride on down. Mile one comes back at Maxcy Gregg Park – 5:59. Oopsie. Too much coffee, I guess. This is going to hurt.

Sure enough,  1.25 miles in and we hit 5 points and turn right on Saluda. Saluda is the first of the many mountains on this course and man does it suck.  You think you are doing OK until the last little bit at the top, where every last molecule of oxygen gets wrung out of your lungs and you’re gasping for dear life. Even singlet guys drop back on this one. I hit mile 2 at the summit in 6:40 and I’m actually relieved, because it felt like I was barely moving. There’s a sharp downhill right away on Heyward, which doesn’t help me catch my breath since I’m trying to keep from flopping all over the place on the way down. What’s worse is a sharp incline right away after you pass Harden St, which beats you down a little more. I don’t think I caught my breath again until about King Street, and I try to settle in and keep up with Jason Dimery. Jason is way faster than me, but I figure he’s at least doing the half or maybe the full, and I’ve only got another 2.5 miles. Things roll pretty steadily through Shandon. I didn’t look at my splits, but mile 3 and 4 were both in the 6:20’s, my actual target pace.

I started noticing that me and this older guy in a red singlet kept going back and forth. I wondered if he might be a relayer, since I think he had a Strictly singlet, but I didn’t him carrying one. Having run many a relay, I do know some people hide the batons, but the thing I was carrying seemed to big to stuff anywhere.  At least I hoped.  A few times I thought I lost him, but then he would pass me on a downhill, my inexplicable weakness. Finally we hit Kilbourne and I hear the mile 4 beep on my Garmin. Time for the gloves to come off.

Unfortunately we were so far from Devine St that Kilbourne actually has a nasty rise to climb first, which didn’t time well with my sudden surge. Oh well, this was going to hurt – I knew I was going to pay for that sub 6 mile eventually. While downhills may be my weakness, spelunking the dark cavernous recesses of the pain cave is my absolute specialty. Especially when it may involve relay roadkill. By the time I get to Devine St I am pretty much striding out and sucking wind like its no tomorrow, betting all my chips I can coast down the long home stretch on Devereaux.  I pull up beside Toby Selix, i.e. the new 35-39 party crasher, and absolute beast. He’s cruising along at low 6 pace and making conversation, while I’m blowing snot and feeling the grip of imminent death. We hit Devereaux and I start redlining it. Selix is doing the half but still rides along in my wake the whole way down.  I cross Beltline and take another few pain cave steps just to take down Dimery in the last 100 meters. But I dont see Drew…WTF??? I almost stop to look for him but luckily someone yells at me to turn the corner and thank God he’s there. I hit the relay area a few seconds over 32 minutes – Garmin had 5.1 miles and 6:07 last full mile. I barely have a chance to catch my breath before red singlet guy comes blasting in behind me and somehow removes a baton from some unseen orifice to hand off to their No. 2. Man, these plow mules are crafty. Larry is there at the zone to confirm that was his team.

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/714131006

Relays are always somewhat mysterious, since you never get to see the whole race unfold. From what I heard, the Strictly open team was just ridiculous and came through at like 28 minutes at the first exchange. They even wore “elite” jerseys and had a cakewalk of a win in 2:29. Drew, our number 2, was fighting a toe injury and was in some serious pain the last 5 miles (he had the first  8 mile leg) but soldiered through. The Plow Mules overtook the lead somewhere in leg 2. A fresh Pale Beast  and a post 5k Brandenburg probably was a wash, and then Bishop was too strong in the last 8 miles, overtaking Larry in the anchor leg.  We finished 2nd in 2:47, with the Old Plow Mules in 3rd in 2:53. Fourth place was 3:40ish and the women’s win was over 4 hours, so definitely a trophy hunt opportunity for the coed or womens teams next year.

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/15RUNHARD_RELAY.TXT

Be sure to check out  the “Triathlon Joe” facebook site for his recap of the full. Joe paced with me and kept me entertained in the first half of Kiawah and is an ex-Columbian living in the Atlanta area.

Results from the CRC newsletter:

In the marathon, the top local finisher was Michael Nance, rocking a 3:04 BQ time on this brutal course. Former Olympian Zola (Budd) Pieterse took home the win. Local winners in the masters categories included our own Joyce Welch taking 2nd, with Jason Gibson winning 2nd among the men. Marathon age groupers: Jamey Wilson placed first overall and a huge PR (3:48) to win the 30-34, with Tricia Roland taking third. Kris Litman-Koon took 2nd place in the 30-34 men. Ty Thomas clocked a 3:12 and a BQ to win the 45-49. Half marathon: Ryan Plexico was the top SC finisher in 1:19, with Heather Hunt talking top local female in 1:24. Masters winners included Howie Phan and Jeff Godby going 2-3 among the men. Mary Howk won masters with an incredible 1:45 at age 63. Wow. HM age groupers: Brittany Robbins won 2nd in the 15-19. Matt Pollard took 3rd in the 25-29. Jason Dimery took 2nd in the 30- 34, with Carly Jackson 3rd among the women. Toby Selix won the 35-39 in an impressive 1:27. Wendy Hart won the 40-44. Jim Fadel took the 45-49. In the 50-54 women, Lisa Powell and Coleen Strasburger went 1-2, with Phil Togneri winning among the men. Pete O’Boyle and Larry Bates finished 1st and 2nd in a close 55-59 battle. Carol Wallace won among the 55-59 women. Rob Kriegshaber, Mike Compton and Neil Derrick swept a tough 60-64 division. Shawn Chillag and Peter Mugglestone finished 2- 3 in the 65-69. Jesse Smarr took 3rd in the 70+. 5k: Parker Roof won first overall with Travis Moran just behind. Jennifer Lybrand captured the women’s win , with Barbara Brandenburg 3rd. Jeff Brandenburg continued his brutal masters run, taking 1st, with Geary McAlister and Joe Roof also placing. Pam Inman won 2nd among the women, and Sue Porter 3rd. 5k age groupers: Ian Clawson placed 3rd in a tough 11-14. Ashley Horton also took third in the 25-29. Angel Manuel and Brian Talkington went 1-2 for Palmetto Runners in the 35-39. Jennifer Hill won 3rd in the 40-44. Roy Shelley won the 45-49, with Chris Vokaty 3rd. Tracy Tisdale-Williams captured third in the 45-49 women. Tom Beattie won the 50-54., with John Gasque placing 3rd in the 55-59. Leeds Barroll won the 60-64. Albert Anderson, Alex Ponamarev and Ron Hagell swept a brutal 65-69. Brigitte Smith claimed the 65-69 women, with Henry Holt taking the 70+ men.

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/15RUNHARD_5K.TXT

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/15RUNHARD_HALF.TXT

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/15RUNHARD.TXT

 

 

 

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Lexington Race Against Hunger 10k – Lexington, SC – 2/28/15

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The Lexington Race Against Hunger, or LRAH, is now in its 15th year and has been a staple of the Tour de Columbia for most of its existence. While late February has given the race some tough weather at times, there is usually a large and brutally competitive crowd. I’ve run the race every year since 2009 and I think I may have one 3rd in AG to show for it. I think I must have placed 4th about 5 times, because my photo library of the race is full of me looking dejected and holding up the number 4. Usually next to Drew, Scott Flicker, Code or some other 35-39 beast.

Coursemap1

This race has some fast times, but it is purely because of the competition. The course is tough with a capital T. It is in Lexington, after all – a place seemingly on some prehistoric fault line with mountains popping up out of nowhere. Speaking of mountains, this race has one. Mount Main Street. For the uninitiated, the course lulls you into a nice warm feeling of safety in the first 1.5 miles – you go down a mostly flat stretch on 378 before descending into a net downhill, rolling stretch in a neighborhood (Dreher and Harmon Rd). You will then take a right turn and drop an expletive of your choosing.  Mount Main Street is probably only a little over a quarter mile, but will suck your will to live. But, while Mt Main Street may get all the attention, once you’ve climbed her summit, the 2 climbs on Church street will have you praying for mercy. (I’m so proud of that one.) So essentially how you manage the uphill miles 1.5-3.5 will determine your race. There’s a bump at 4.5  and the 5 mile mark, but you’re home free in the last 1.2 back on 378.

My goal is to go sub 40 in a 10k this year. This is not the race to do it, of course. My course record is 41:51 back in 2013. This was when I was throwing down sub 19 5ks, and when my left toe was fully functioning. My epic suckitude at the 10k has been extensively documented previously. In some warp of space and time, my 12k PR pace (6:27) is faster than my 10k PR (6:31). Go figure.

For some reason I assumed an 8 am start for this race. Showing up at 7 am the place was a ghost town, and I soon realized it was actually an 8:20 start. Hundreds of races in and I still make stupid mistakes . Did a couple miles with my CRC presidential predecessor Rick Gibbons, who has dedicated his post administration career to becoming a 50 stater marathoner. Twenty-six down after last weekend – look for him in the 4:15 Run Hard pace group next week.

By the time we get back its about 20 minutes to start. There seems to be fewer people than usual, and most importantly, a gaping hole in the 35-39. No Code. No Steven Johnson. No Gomez (he was volunteering). No Micah. No Luke. No Trophy. Angel showed up to enroll Jenn Covington in Palmetto Runners but wasn’t running himself. Drew was up in Greenville running the GHS half. Things were looking up for some AG glory.

With Justin, David, Tracy,  and Drew in Greenville, the Team Utopia crew was limited.  However Chris , Eliere, Michael Jensen,  Ivanka, Ilia and Julia were on hand along with myself.  Palmetto Runners fielded new member Jenn Covington, Jennifer “JR” Reeves, Luci and Jeff. Strictly only had Drohomirecky and Plexico, though with no other local elites, this race was going to be a cake walk for the Lightning.  Brigitte Smith, Pam and Mike Griffin, Kristin, Ty Thomas, David He, Scott Flicker, Devon Shirley, Pete O’ Boyle, Barb Brandenburg, Alfred Baquiran, Scott Brewer, Thomas Beattie, Alex Ponamarev, John Gasque, Lisa and Jesse Smarr, Brady/Diesel Ward, Wes and Rhea Spratt, Paul Drohomirecky, and  Matt Buffum were some of the familiar faces. Oh wait, dont forget Brandenburg. He’s still hitting every race he can before I turn 40, on his campaign to defeat the Blue Shoes 2015 Masters run. Although I’m like 80 points down, at least I can take solace in the fact my ghost is haunting his dreams.

With the start Plexico left us all for dead immediately and the pack  separated out quickly with the less competitive field.  Ty Thomas  latches on to my side and starts his psychological warfare: the constant narrative. He tries to barter his Palmetto 200 relay legs (he’s on my team “Van on the Run”) and I  shot him down – I drew the short last leg and no one’s taking that from me! I separate from him on a little incline then he’s right back in my ear, shaming me for running so slow. He then ups the ante and proceeds to pass me, just as we hit the mile marker with the turn onto Dreher St. Split was 6:27, basically right on 40 minute pace, though this (and mile 6) are the flattest miles on the course by far. Ty starts shouting at Brandenburg, who is about 50 meters ahead. Well at least its not me anymore. I try to tell myself to keep up with these guys. Running 200+ races over the past 5 years I have stalked so many race results and people in my ability level that I recognize the two right in front of me without ever seeing or talking to them outside of a race. One is a tall guy with a PR or ER shirt that I know must be Robert Taylor – a beast of a triathlete who runs almost exactly my times in 5ks and 10ks. The other is a shorter guy in all black that looks younger than he is, which must mean he’s Tracy McKinnon, a guy that always runs this race and always beats me for AG glory. He’s in my 2011 LRAH finish photo and shares the exact name of a girl I went to elementary school with. Do not question the bizarre and sick brain that resides within the melon headed skull. In any event, these guys are right ahead of me and I stick with them for the next several miles. Ty, who suddenly gapped me by over 25 meters, gets reeled in as we start to climb Mt. Main Street. We hit mile 2 halfway up this monster in 6:15, which is way too freaking fast and explains why I’m hurting so bad.

I’m pretty gassed by the top of the mountain but regain some of my composure on the ensuing flatness of Maiden Ln. Gomez is there at the water stop telling me to go get my sub 40. I’m probably still on pace except I feel like absolute death. By the turn onto Church St, I’m again fighting the psychological battle of still having 3.5 miles to go and feeling like I’m dead last. Our pack has separated from everyone behind and they are letting cars go behind me. By the top of the second hill on Church I know I’ve definitely slowed down, so I stop looking at my Garmin. The turn on Roberts is the beginning of the Jailbreak finish and is still a slight incline, which kills me. They had a time caller at mile 3, who gave me like a 19:33. It’s hard to do math with an oxygen-deprived brain, but I figured this translated to almost exactly a 20 minute 5k. That was great and all, but I was already 3 steps into the pain cave, so I knew it would be really tough to pull out a 39:59.

Mercifully, the course levels out as Roberts merges onto Gibson. I’m finally able to stride out again and flush out some of this lactic acid leg bath I’ve been drowning in. By this point I’m basically all alone, with Robert, Tracy and Ty about 20 meters ahead. There’s a right turn on Hendrix, which starts a long flat and downhill stretch. I usually try to ramp it up here to make up time lost in the mountain climbing, but all of a sudden the wind kicks in. Wind is not my friend. Little 140 pound singlet wearing guys can tuck in and fight a headwind, but my Sasquatch physique is about as aerodynamic as the Titanic. Its completely flat but damned if it isn’t as hard as hill climbing. Feels like I’m barely moving. I didn’t look at mile 4, which was halfway through this stretch. With 2 miles and change to go, I figure I need to start ramping up the pace. Hendrix takes a nice downhill and I fight to keep my form, which usually starts to go all to hell as I get tired, especially on declines. We turn back on Church and another hill climb to the Main st intersection – still all by myself. One last quad crusher of a hill before 378, and the mile 5 time caller gives me a 33:07.  Yeah, doing a sub 7 1.2 miles would be tough completely fresh, much less in my wind-sucking , head-flopping condition.

Once I get up to 378, I realize that Hendrix just had a cross breeze. Now this was a full-on headwind. Son of a bitch. I was banking on being able to throw down hard in the flat last mile, but it feels more like I’m running in place. Oh well, I guess the sub 40 was out the window.  That doesn’t stop me from  kicking it in. I catch Robert early on and set my sights on Ty and what looks like David He ahead. We start hitting the tail end of the 5k, mostly walkers. For some reason Ty and David are dodging in between the walkers. I ride the yellow line free and clear of the crowd. At about 400 meters out I push in all the chips and go for it. I catch Ty and David about 100 meters from the finish and I am in full headless chicken mode. You guys are getting BLUE SHOED! But wait… I feel a presence. All of a sudden Ty blasts by on my right and I have zero reserve to respond. Noooooooo! Just as my ego gets crushed, here comes David on my left and he gets me too right before the line. OMG. I see high 40 on the clock but I’m still in absolute shock from this brutal double dose of my own medicine. I cross in 40:56. The three of us are all sucking wind like there’s no tomorrow, and Ty is laid out like a dead man on the pavement. Well, at least I made them earn it.  I’m still depressed about getting smoked like that, but I have to give them both credit – they kicked my ass at my own game. My consolation – first in age group! Toby Selix, who “stole” my AG award at the Long Run, finished 3rd overall, and Tracy apparently has turned 40, so I finally got a first place plaque. A bit of a hollow victory, for sure, but I’m never one to turn down trophies. Also, I can’t be too upset about breaking my course record by a minute.

In the overall, Plexico enjoyed his walk in the park and won in 36:03, 3 minutes and 16 seconds clear of the field. Colin Spangler finished second with Toby Selix 3rd.  Although I was too slow to see it, I give major props to Brent Shealy for outgunning Brandenburg at the finish line to get first masters. Robert Taylor and Norm Ferris went 1-2 in a brutally competitive grandmasters. Alsena Edwards captured 2nd in ladies grandmasters.

Age groups: Brady Ward took 3rd in 2-14 with Diesel hiding in his shadow. David He won 1st in the 25-29 and also took my pride. Ivanka Tolan captured 1st in the 35-39. Tracy McKinnon, Scott Flicker and Scott Brewer swept a very talented 40-44. Julia Early won 1st on the ladies side. Ty Thomas and Matt Buffum went 1-2 in the 45-49. Barb Brandenburg and Jenn Covington did the same among the women. Lisa Smarrtook 2nd in the 55-59 and broke an hour for the first time in many years. Pete O’Boyle took 1st among the men. Lynn Grimes won the 60-64 and Alex Ponomarev took the 65-69. Brigitte Smith won among the women. Jesse Smarr was champion of the 75+ and would have won the 70-74 as well.

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/15LRAH.TXT

https://connect.garmin.com/activity/708048755