The Rose Festival 5k and 12k have been around for about 10 years, but initially escaped my attention since Orangeburg is about an hour from my house.  At some point I must have realized, though, that this was an event practically made for me. I spend so much time looking for double dip opportunities, but Rose Fest actually builds one into their race, and makes the double an event all to itself (called the “Double Down 17k” as well. It is a Tour de Columbia points bonanza.

My first taste of the Rose Fest in 2013 virtually assured I’d be coming back again. I consider it probably the best running performance of the hundreds of races I’ve done. I PR’d in the 12k by over a minute and a half, running a 48:12 in an epic battle with Billy Tisdale. The 5k, only about 40 minutes later, was absolutely brutal, but featured a 5:59 closing mile to catch Billy again, finishing in 19:49 and securing a double down championship.  I was hooked.

Rose Fest 12k, 2013

Of course, whenever someone like myself wins races, it basically screams TROPHY HUNT. I don’t win races by talent, I win by luck and lack of competition.  The Rose Fest featured wins by local elites Justin Bishop, Chris Bailey and Michael Banks in subsequent years – people who could go have brunch after their race and still have time to get back to see me finish.

I was injured in 2014, but I came back in 2015 to race the double again. Charleston’s Chris Bailey trounced everybody in both the 12k and 5k, and I had a couple of so-so races (50:02, 20:08 I think). But, since they added a masters division, I took home the masters double down crown much to my surprise.

This year, I was decidedly less optimistic. Boston, while a euphoric experience, left me just wrecked. At least I knew why I was feeling so bad at the race since I was sick as a dog the rest of the week. I had managed to get a few runs in the next weekend, including an ill-advised preview run of the Gov Cup Half on Sunday.  Even though the legs were slowly coming back, I was dead tired and still not 100 percent recovered from the brutal cold I had been fighting.

But, it was Rose Fest, so I figured I’d at least go down to Orangeburg to take pictures. I think I had a beer fueled moment of poor judgment (not the first, mind you) on Thursday night and signed up for the 12k on a whim. I had to catch my 10 year old’s chorus performance at the Sparkleberry Fair at 10:15 so I really couldn’t stay for the double down. I know… the thug life chose me.

Waking up at 5:00 am on Saturday,  it took every ounce of willpower, coupled with the 40 bucks I had already burned, to get me out of bed. OK I was definitely doing this race easy. I figured I could cruise at my Kiawah Marathon 7:15 pace and see if I could stumble into my age group or something.

I got down to Orangeburg with about 40 minutes to spare for the 7:30 start. Not a big crowd – the 12k is usually fairly small but loaded with elites, the 5k much larger. I ran into Cheryl and Thomas Outlaw, John Gasque (doing the double down), Brigitte and Garrett Smith, fellow TUS teammates Makenzie Wilson and birthday girl Greta Dobe. Rocky was already there despite only running the 5k at 9:00. Justin had mentioned he would be there but was MIA. I did less than a mile warmup, and the legs felt it necessary to remind me on every step that it was indeed only 12 days ago that I ran a marathon.  Total cinder blocks.

As we walk up to the start line, I’m taking pictures, talking to Erin and the cops, and generally distracted. As I put my phone away, I’m suddenly struck…WHERE ARE THE ELITES?? There are a few kids, a random fit looking guy about my age and an older dude with a Charleston Running Club singlet up front. No one I really recognize on the front line. OK, so surely one of these guys must be a sub 6 pace kind of dude. Still, a sense of opportunity, and panic, runs through me.

The course – mostly flat and residential.

With the gun, I make sure I go out easy since this was the plan. About a quarter mile in I see a couple of teenagers in matching shirts running a couple of steps ahead and a guy riding my tail, but there’s no one but me and the police car. I take a quick look over my shoulder and start cussing. I’ve got 20 meters on the field already. Sonofabitch, I’ve stumbled into an unbelievable trophy hunt. I was going to have to at least try.

But, yeah, I really, really didn’t want to. A half mile in and the teenagers are gone. Just me and a random shirtless guy . I turn to him and jokingly say “I guess we are the elites today”, but he doesn’t even look at me. Dude is in a zone, probably dead set on kicking this melon headed Clydesdale’s ass. Normally I would use this as motivation to drop him, but I have no idea what my legs can take right now and  I have no idea what this guy is capable of. I focus on about 7 minute pace as I had no intention on running any faster than I had to  to take home the holy grail. Mile one came back in 7:04 and unfortunately Shirtless is riding my back like an oversized monkey. I don’t blame him since I produce a drafting wake like Andre the Giant. I turn a corner and there’s a long straightaway in mile 2 with a slight climb. OK – lets keep the pace steady but surge up the hill a bit to try and create some breathing room. Mile 2 was slightly faster in 6:54. I don’t feel great, having not done anything remotely fast in the past 2 weeks. I hit kind of a low point near mile 3 where I’m not sure if the police car missed a turn or not. I hear some noise behind me and Shirtless is still in striking distance, maybe 10 meters back. Damn it. The police car then turns and I recognize the course again, so figure I’m OK.

By now, I’m thinking that I can probably just maintain pace and Shirtless will fade, but there was at least one other guy not too far back. They’ll take my trophy from me from my dead, cold hands, so I bump up the pace just a little to be safe. I hit the turnaround right at mile 4, so a big psychological hurdle is overcome. Pace 6:45-6:50 for the middle miles. The heat and marathon legs are starting to get to me but the course quickly loops back on itself, and at least now I have some company going the other way. I focus on the other runners, trying not to get too crazy and kick it in too early. Mile 5 is 6:45. I’m definitely feeling pretty bad by now – legs are nice and loose but I’d really rather still be in bed. I’m almost to mile 6 (slight fade to 6:55) by the time I hit the other police car sweeping the back end of the race. Just stay on course and keep up this pace. All of a sudden I see “the hill”. Just a bump really, but I knew it was a half mile almost all downhill to the finish from the top. The hill where I pushed in all the chips against Billy in 2013 and headless chickened it to the finish. Not quite the same this time, but seeing the finish from the top of the hill is a big adrenaline jolt. I’m pretty much toast but I’m scared to death of some random joker blue shoeing me in the final stretch. I’m too afraid to look back. Burning down the hill I see Eric and Sarah Allers, Rob Yerger and Mike Compton. Sure glad they chose the undercard this year. Compton says there’s no one behind me so I do back it off a touch so I an enjoy the win. Crossed the line in 51:15, 6:52 pace. First overall! My fourth holy grail. I even had a post race interview with the Orangeburg Times-Democrat http://thetandd.com/sports/recreation/festival-of-roses-road-race-has-record-setting-turnout/article_898dc68a-613b-5b97-9f33-7b844422031d.html.   http://thetandd.com/uploaded_photos/festival-of-roses-k-road-race/image_1144fd58-b88e-5c0b-a08f-222e28a8c733.html  The melon head continues to grow.

This was my slowest Rose Fest 12k my over a minute, and second slowest ever, but overall victories are so sweet regardless of the time. I will take it.

In the 12k, John Gasque took 9th place and 1st in the 55-59. Tommy Outlaw took 2nd. Joe Robinson won the 50-54.Cheryl Outlaw won the 60-64 while Greta Dobe took 2nd in the 50-54. Hou Yin Chang placed 3rd in the 40-44. Brigitte Smith won the 65-69. In a critical no show, I see Lee Moore was signed up but didn’t make it to the start line. Thanks, Lee!

In the 5k, Eric Allers trounced the field by almost a minute, with Sarah taking the women’s win. An excellent day for Team Allers, newly representing the Fleet Feet racing team. Parker Roof was 3rd. The Yerg was 4th overall and 1st in the 35-39. Daniel Patrick took 5th and 1st in the 25-29. Joe Roof won the 50-54 while Compton took the 60-64. Arnold Floyd won the 70+. Makenzie Wilson was 4th female and won the 25-29. John Gasque was 2nd in the 55-59 for race #2. Alex Ponomarev won the 65-69. Henry Holt took 2nd in the 70+, running 28 flat at age 80. Not too shabby. Peter Mugglestone was 3rd in a super competitive 70+ age group. Tommy Outlaw was 3rd in the 55-59 in race #2, while Cheryl won her age group again, picking up 20 TDC points in one morning

I was not the only one to benefit this trophy hunt – Tour de Columbia director John Gasque was able to take home the double down championship! Marie McLean-Choi won the women’s title, with John McKinley and Jennifer Ballew claiming the masters titles.

http://racesonline.com/events/festival-of-roses-5k-12k/results/2016?utf8=%E2%9C%93&category_id=3441&age_group_id=&gender=&search_term_display=&commit=Search

This one was a long time coming.

I guess most runners think about doing Boston at some time or another, even Saquatches more suited to doing 5ks. I really should have known better, as the marathon has been my brutal, vengeful mistress. I did my first marathon at Richmond in 2010 with Ken Lowden’s Strictly Running crew, knowing not one thing about running 26.2 miles. I was so scared of the distance I ran my infamous “Blythewood Marathon” three weeks before the race – a very ill-advised 26.2 mile long run – just to prove I could cover the distance. I did this 24 hours after racing a PR 5 miler at Race to Read. My IT band said forget this and I was hobbled for the next two weeks. I still tried to race Richmond and had a proverbial trail of tears from 18 miles in. A miserable walkapalooza that left me delirious – the Yerg and I almost both passed out at the Starbucks at the finish line. Trophy later called me in a panic thinking I had died.  In reality I wandered aimlessly around Virginia’s capital for about 20 minutes until I found my hotel, cramping and nearly puking. Good times.

Shoot me now.

But after swearing I’d never do another one, I of course broke my promise and trained for Jacksonville the next year. J-vegas was pretty sweet vindication, besting my Richmond time by 32 minutes (3:52 to 3:20) and posting the best time of Ken “Captain Marathon” Calcutt’s training group. The Boston qualifying standard for 35-39 was 3:15 at that time and a seed was planted. I would find my way to Hopkinton.

Please make it stop

I thought poetic justice would be served in marathon #3, a return to Richmond. It was not to be – a rogue 3:15 pace group reeled off a bunch of 7 flat miles in the early going and I was toast in the last 10k. A respectable 3:22, but the Boston standards had just gotten tougher, down to a 3:10 for 35-39.

2013 looked like my year. The window for 2015 Boston opened in September, and since I would turn 40 a month before then, I could use the 40-44 3:15 qualifier. Awesome. My sights were set on Kiawah in December – super flat, and close by to boot. I was in. I ramped up mileage and was due to start my 16 week training cycle the week of July 15. I’d just wait a few days to get back from my 15th anniversary trip to Hawaii. Those that know me know the rest. Twenty foot cliff dive, multiple broken bones and a totally wrecked body – really lucky to be alive much less training for a marathon. I was on the couch for a few months and didn’t get back to my previous form until late spring 2014.

Yay, Daddy is still alive

But I did get back, minus a wonky left toe. By the time July 2014 rolled around, I figured -OK… LETS TRY THIS AGAIN. I managed to not endure major trauma that summer. Justin Bishop drew up the plan and I was on it like Donkey Kong. I made it to Kiawah 2014 whipped into some serious shape. Kiawah went so well early on that I got cocky – I was going to kick this marathon’s ass, maybe get 3:05. I rattled off a bunch of 6:50ish miles around 18-19 miles in. Turns out this is one of the many times my overwhelming narcissism has not served me well. Wheels came off with a vengeance in mile 23, and I had a 5k from hell to the finish. I hobbled home in 3:11:22. I fought off the pukes for 5 minutes, and it sure wasn’t pretty, but it was an official BQ. I was going to Boston.

Emily witnessed the first Blue Shoes run, a 5.5 mph 10 min jog on the treadmill in 2007

Or was I? I had already reserved my hotel for Boston 2016 when the  registration began in September 2015. Because I was within 5 minutes of my qualifying time, I had to wait to the last few days of the registration period. People were talking about a record amount of entrants, and there was much speculation about what the “real” cutoff time would be relative to the BQ standards. After a week of hand wringing, I finally got the golden email – I was officially accepted. Many adult beverages were consumed that night. (Cutoff was -2:28 )

So, fast forward to 2016. I spent much of the Boston training period thinking I would treat this as a victory lap.Initially I was injured with hamstring and piriformis issues. Sarah Allers and Christen Bowman both spent hours helping me recover.  Once I was healed, I put in a lot of slow miles punctuated by my weekly race addiction every Saturday, 50+ per week for most of the cycle. I did the Swamp Rabbit half in Greenville in February and surprised the hell out of myself with a 1:28:27, a PR by 2 seconds. Maybe, just maybe, I would give Boston an honest effort. Shannon Iriel was in my same wave/corral, and was shooting for 3:10, so why not pace with her?

Unfortunately, like in 2013, life doesn’t care if you are pinning all your hopes and dreams on a meaningless road race. The week before my race, my grandma turned 90 and took a serious turn for the worse. A week before Boston,  I went to see her and she was lucid but weak, and she told me how happy she was that I was getting to run the race I had dreamed about for so long. She did not do well over the next few days, and my out-of-state family came to see her for fear of what seemed like an inevitability. With a heavy heart and many reassurances from my mom (who would be taking care of my 3 kids in the midst of this) Mary and I headed to Boston. Rescheduled flights gave us a 12 hour trip and I was noticing I was coming down with a nasty cold – fatigue, congestion, muscle aches, the works. I was exhausted.

I felt a little better the next day and did a 3 mile shakeout with Derek Gomez around Boston Common. It didn’t feel great but I was really taken with an adrenaline rush that I was finally, FINALLY, here. I toured the expo, which was a total madhouse, got my bib, took a thousand pictures and  spent way too much on adidas Boston stuff. I already had the Boston jacket – ordered online and still sealed in plastic, preserving its teal/black hideousness and whatever bad juju might be released by opening it early. Apparently this was not a problem for a quarter of the other runners, who sported their 1988 Charlotte Hornets Boston jacket with pride.

After some carb loading in Boston’s Italian North End, I got a call on my cell from my mom at about 9 pm. As soon as I saw the number I knew it was “the call”. Grandma had passed. It was a punch to the stomach, but I knew she had been begging for this to happen for a long time. She was no longer in pain, and could finally rest.

I woke up the next morning with not much sleep and not feeling great but a relief that I was here, on race day, and uninjured. I wrote my grandmother’s name on my bib and dedicated the race to her. After a quick Panera breakfast I headed out to Boston Common at about 6:30 to load up for the bus ride to Hopkinton. The bus ride started off with a bunch of loud, nervous excitement but gradually tapered off to being pretty quiet. This ride was taking forever. At some point I saw the exit to Worcester, and I knew something was up. The bus took the exit, then did some weird turnaround maneuver. Being one of the few with a cell phone, I google mapped us and realized we were like 15 miles past where we should be. The 30 minute ride ended up taking us an hour and a half. I would be surprised, but I somehow get used to having bizarre, stupid luck  – good or bad.

Luckily, they ship you down to Athletes’ Village super early. My start time wasn’t until 10:25 so still another 2 hours to kill. The Village was pretty nuts – like a summer music festival without any entertainment. Mobs of anxious people producing some pretty epic bathroom lines. I finally located the rest of our wave 1 and 2 TUS group after a random run-in with the Yerg. I told him we’ve come  a long way from our shared delirium in that Richmond Starbucks.  Gomez was there and offered me a seat on the best idea ever – a deflated plastic raft to keep you off the wet grass. Ken Bolin and Michael Nance were also on board. We were ready to go.

Yerg, Nance and Gomez left first for wave 1, and about a half hour later Ken and I got our call. As we were walking up to the start, I ran into Tracy McKinnon – Harbison trail runner and member of my 2016 Palmetto 200 repeat championship team Van on the run (sorry, our captain Brian Clyburn requires that whole phrase be uttered whenever the p200 team is mentioned). I walked up with him and also managed to locate Shannon, so we had a little Columbia mini pack in the Wave 2, Corral 1 start. Being in the first corral was awesome, since it made you feel elite, despite the face that the elites, and everybody 3:09 and faster, had taken off 25 minutes ago. Hey, I take what I can get.

I had zero clue what to do with my race strategy, so I figured I’d do my 3:10 (7:15/mile) pace for as long as I could. I did a similar pace at last week’s Palmetto Half as a training run, and it felt pretty easy, so hopefully this would serve me well. I  had studied the course before – looked like mostly downhill and rolling to the halfway point, some flatness, then the nasty Newton hills with Heartbreak at mile 21, then mostly downhill again to Boylston St. But again, this was just a large scale elevation map. we would see…

The gun goes off and its complete mayhem. I realize I’m leading a group of thousands of people, all of whom have run a 3:09 to 3:25 marathon in the past 18 months. So its fast, real fast. To make things worse, the road out of Hopkinton is like a freefall off a mountain. I’m fighting to keep the pace from getting too crazy. Tracy and Shannon have already left me for dead and people are passing me left and right. The elevation map made it look completely downhill but there’s already an incline not more than a half mile from the start. I hit mile 1 in 7:12, which I figure is pretty ideal. My legs feel fine but I’m already not liking the way I feel. For one, it is ridiculously hot. 68 degrees according to my Garmin but feels worse than that with no shade. Boston was supposed to have a high near 60 but for some reason Hopkinton was supposed to get up to the low 70’s. On top of the heat though, I just have no energy. All the stress and illness in the past week have apparently caught up with me.

But hey, its Boston, so time to suck it up buttercup. I rattle off a few 7:10ish miles and hit another big pack of spectators in Ashland, the next town over. I’ve been known to recover after a bad start but things are still going south, like I’d rather just pull to the side and take a nap. I fight through this feeling until I hit Framingham around the 10k mark. it’s nice to randomly run into Howie Phan, but he starts pulling away and looking back to see my train wreck in progress.  I’m still hitting near 7:20 miles but the wall of noise and cowbells in the town makes me feel a little loopy. I surge to the 10k mats to at least give the people tracking back home a sense that all hasn’t gone to crap.

But it most certainly has. I bail out around mile 8 and use the portapotty and give myself a good thirty seconds of walking. I had been hydrating pretty aggressively in the heat, but now I was more afraid of getting fluid overloaded and hyponatremic. Either way, I was done with any thought of this being a good race. I was paralyzed by the fear that I might not even finish now. Its a pretty big mental hurdle to be complete toast 18 miles from Boylston St.

But people are screaming at me, so I start back up at what feels like an absolute cool down jog. I try to pick it up some, but anything fast makes me feel lightheaded and a step away from the med tent. I’m able to rein it in and keep going, surprised to see 8:20ish miles. With everybody passing you, it feels more like 11 minute pace. I’m considering another bout of walksies on the overpass near mile 12, but then I hear a vague, ghostly wail echoing up head. I come up over a ridge and it hits me like a wall of sound –  the Wellesley scream tunnel. I’m suffering on the side of the road, crawling along, but having a couple thousand college girls screaming at you for kisses definitely helps in the motivation department. Since my race is in the crapper already, I plant a big sloppy one on a cute Asian girl who’s probably still having nightmares from the experience.

The half mat is in downtown Wellesley, and its a 1:42 split. Jeez, I cruised a 1:35 a week ago and felt great. Today, not so much. By this time, I figure my computer trackers know something is up. I’m able to hold it together for a couple more miles when its relatively flat, but things really start to fall apart when the hills start rolling in. I hit a major case of walksies in mile 15 and then a longer one on the first set of Newton hills in 17, crossing the 10 minute barrier for the first time. It’s so bad I pull out my cell phone during the mile 17 power walk to text the wife (who is at the top of Heartbreak Hill, mile 21) to let her know how bad the suckage is going. She texts back, but I can’t read it in the sun except for the first line “KEEP GOING”. The next few miles are pure torture – someone told me the Newton hills arent so bad but I have to heartily disagree. I was powerwalking like a champ. Apparently I ran through all the early water overload and now I was getting thirsty. Some kid was giving out freezer pops and I grabbed one. It was like pure heaven. I chased that with a big cup of beer that some very drunk Boston college girls were giving out. Although I was still pulling  a run/walk strategy like a Jeff Galloway devotee, at least the temperature had dropped considerably. It was even a little chilly in the wind. I spent all of heartbreak looking for Mary and finally found her and Sheila at the very top. Apparently she was holding the GO BLUE SHOES! sign that she and the boys made before we left, but I was too busy giving her an even bigger, sloppier kiss to see it.

After seeing Mary and cresting the hill, I had the first inkling that maybe I would be OK. I had spent the last 12 miles figuring at least a 50/50 chance of med tenting it, but getting to mile 21 and getting over the big hills was huge. I screamed at myself not to walk again, but damn did I want to. I started thinking of anything to motivate me – my grandma, the kids back home, the long, miserable months of rehabbing from the Hawaii fall, being stuck with that ugly as hell jacket and not even being able to wear it…anything. It was some serious slow going – pace was in the 9’s but better than that 11 minute stroll up Heartbreak. At some point a guy comes up from behind and says “THERE IT IS…THE CITGO SIGN!!” like he just had a religious epiphany. I gave him a Rick Flair wooooo for support. I’d like to say I kept my promise of no walksies, but damn that mile 25 overpass – I got an electric jolt up my left leg and I knew my Richmond cramps might be making a most unwelcome comeback. I climbed to the top and started my power jog back on the way down. Thankfully no more shocks. The last few miles were a blur, but then we went under a bridge and turned onto  Hereford street, and I recognized the scene from watching it on TV for so many years. Up a short hill and a left onto Boylston. Absolutely incredible. A wall of sound and people, with the finish line in sight. I’d like to say I pulled a classic blue shoe finish, but it was all I could do to remain upright at 10 minute pace. Touching my bib, arms to the sky…. I was done.

3:48 and change. Far from my best but actually not my worst. I was a complete wreck in the walk through the finish area. They were giving me the medal and the mylar blanket between me alternately grinning like an idiot and sobbing like a baby. I was a Boston finisher! Many beers were consumed that night, proudly wearing the ugliest jacket ever.

In the Columbia group, Michael Nance rocked a 3:10 and Derek Gomez requalified with a 3:13. Jeff Godby and Howie Phan both requalified with a 3:11. Yerg ran a 3:23 and Shannon BQ’d again with a 3:24. Ivanka Tolan also requalified, PR’ing in an amazing 3:32. Jennifer Kryzanowski BQ’s with a 3:32 as well. Tracy Mckinnon finished in 3:31 and Kenneth Ebener , running injured, crossed in 3:49. Julia Norcia clocked a 3:55, and Ken Bolin ran a 4:12.Jennifer Sparks did a 4:14.

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1132039327

http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/results-commentary/2016-boston-marathon/2016-results-search.aspx

In memory of Dolores Gillen, 1926-2016

For those that know me, know I totally heart the relay. I will even turn down a golden trophy hunt opportunity and crucial Tour de Columbia points (www.columbiarunningclub.com/touredecolumbia) in exchange for the chance to pass the baton. Of course, sometimes the trophies still get hunted. Who could forget my insane Joker-esque grin from the 2010 Born in the USA 2×2 mile relay. An improbable championship borne from 2 hapless age groupers, with just little enough pride to accept a win that would have placed them 8th overall in the 4 mile.

Melons and 50 bucks – sounded like a good time to me.

But the piece de resistance of my relay fetish has always been the Palmetto 200. A chance meeting online in the runners world “sub 22 5k” forum hooked me up with “El Capitan” Brian Clyburn , and the first “Van on the Run” was formed for the inaugural 2010 P200.

Somehow I was one of the faster runners on this team, and was assigned 21 miles. The race was also held April 30-May 1 then, in 80 degree weather. We got a hotel room for 2 hours and Jen Clyburn got sick from Howard Johnson’s water. I almost passed out on a 8.8 miler in the heat and was hallucinating on my last leg at 4 am. We had no idea what we were doing. But somehow we outperformed and ended up clocking close to 8 minute pace and finished in the top 10. An addiction was born.

Over the years, people have dropped off the team, but somehow Brian has always reloaded with someone even faster than the last. This resulted in gradual improvement until we finally broke through in 2015 with the ultimate trophy hunter’s dream, the overall win.

2011

2012

2013

2015

2014

So this marked Palmetto 200 number 7 for me, Brian, and other original members David McNeice and Joel Pierstorff. Other VOTR veterans were Brandon (so fabulous he only needs one name), Darrell “the Code” Brown, Jen “She Hulk” Clyburn, Julie “Bitz” Bitzel, and Dan “Meddler” Carter. New recruits included Tracy “T-Bone” McKinnon, Kevin “Moopy” Selinsky and Rob “Rookie, later “Ricky Bobby” Gannett. It should be noted that all of our newbies are absolute beasts.

Planning out a competitive relay is a pretty tough thing for a captain. Somehow you have to take all of the strengths/weaknesses of your team,  look carefully at all the 36 relay legs over 205 miles, and put them together for optimum speed. There is no one better suited for this job than the master himself, El Capitan. Brian’s spreadsheet plays out like nerd porn – a color-coded, statistically beautiful work of art that can only leave you in awe. I think he even adds in difficulty quotients for heat and hills. Just amazing.

Brian relies heavily on data for the spreadsheet, and there’s no one with more running data out there than some freak who races every Saturday. I made the error of running a PR, point to point net downhill half marathon last month (GHS Swamp Rabbit), which “earned” me a goal pace of 6:45 on the relay. This was not going to be a recreational jog.

Brief relay tutorial: there are 36 parts or legs to the 205 mile course, ranging from 2-10 miles each. Team members pass a slap bracelet at each exchange zone when they complete a leg. With 12 members on a full team, this means each member will complete three legs, ranging from 13 to 22 total miles per person. Our team typically takes around 24 hours, though there are some that will be out there 36+ hours. Any way you look at it, you will be running some in the middle of the night and not getting much sleep.

This year’s start site was moved to Red Bank Arena, after using Old Columbia Speedway the last 6 years. For what it lacked in ambiance, it certainly was nice to be able to leave your cars at the race site. Our biggest drama pre-race was the van situation. The official vehicle of all 12 man relays is the white Ford 15 passenger van, but there was a recall on that model leading up to the event. Luckily, Joel become a weekly annoyance at the rental car company and probably did unseemly favors to secure us even more awesome vehicles this year – sleek, black, high-roofed minibuses of luxury.  We were traveling in style. Team shirts this year were awesome – garnet and black with 2015 champions on the sleeve. Thanks to Emily Richbourg for printing!

Starts are staggered in the relay from 5:30 am for the slowest teams to 12:30 for the fastest. With three other teams in the 12:30 wave, we knew who our competition would be from the beginning: The Banditos, Sole Asylum and Clemson Thundercats. Sole Asylum we knew well from our battle last year. Angel Manuel, Lee Moore, Gene Grimsley, Mario Alvarez and Paul Reardon are great guys and mainstays on the SC racing circuit. Clemson has fielded a team most years, but with changing students in their running club,  you never know what you’re going to get. They were champs a few years back, but doubtful many of those guys were still on this team. The Banditos are competitive, but we’ve usually lost them by the 2nd legs. There was a scary rumor that Ryan Plexico was on Sole Asylum, but Angel assured me he wasn’t (turns out he was on another team with an earlier start time).

I was assigned to Van 2 this year and wasn’t scheduled to run until leg 11, which was set to start at 7:30 pm per the Relay Bible, I mean spreadsheet. Nothing like getting all jacked up for a race and having to wait seven hours. We followed Van 1 through the first few exchanges. Our Van 1 peeps (David, Kevin, Jen, Brian, Tracy, Joel) set the tone early and were just crushing it, despite the brutal weather (high 70’s and no shade on most of the course). Plus, all the early legs are near Columbia with some killer hills. Between the hot pace and the hot weather, us and Clemson separated from the field early. Sole Asylum was hit with an early misdirect that set them back, per Angel.

By the time Van 2 was ready to go, we were already almost 10 minutes ahead of the spreadsheet. This year’s course was redesigned from Red Bank, so the evil Leg 6 from years past was now Leg 7. Dan, as one of our beasts, had the misfortune of drawing this leg. Fighting some plantar fasciitis, he still blazed low 6 pace and crushed the infamous Mt. Saint Matthews, a ridiculous summit arising in the sandhills of the southern Midlands.  There’s never a pic to do it justice, but here’s one anyway.

What was scary about this leg was that despite Dan rocking low 6 pace, there was a Clemson runner who came up behind and passed Meddler on the leg. This guy was like 130 lbs, about 110 of it in quads and hammies of steel, whom we named Thunderthighs. I can only imagine what Clemson called me. TT rocked out the brutal 8.5 miles in 5:45 pace. This spelled trouble for our chance of repeating as champs, to say the least. Bitz followed, and as usual, blew the spreadsheet out of the water with a 7 flat pace. She did go and get herself a Garmin, so some of my devious influence must have spread. I didn’t realize our rookie, Rob, was such an absolute machine. He tore up his first 4.5 mile leg in like 5:45 pace. I’m surprised the Cameron, SC PD, known for their speed trap, didn’t cite him with a violation. Brandon is always claiming to be fat and out of training, but it was clear neither was the case in his first leg.

LEG 1 – THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST – 6.61 miles – Jericho United Methodist Church (Cameron, SC) to Elloree, SC.

After stewing in my own pre-race jitters for 7 hours, I was more than ready to go for Leg 1, which was just after 7 pm. Per rules, I had to strap on the headlamp and reflective vest, which makes my already graceful self look that much sexier. To add to the anxiety, we were running neck and neck with Clemson. A 90 pound girl with long blonde hair took off only about a minute ahead of Brandon into the exchange zone. Like a complete idiot, I blazed out of the gate like a freaking 5k, dead set on chasing blonde girl down. About a half mile in, I realize I had let my Garmin go into power save mode. It’s one thing being in a race and not having a Garmin – you can pace off other people and sometimes they even have split clocks. It’s quite a different thing being out in the middle of nowhere with twilight fading, one other competitor, and no sense of the distance. The Garmin finally finds a satellite over a mile in and I’ve clearly gone out too fast. Legs are burning and I’m hurting way too much this early. To boot, the pollen was in clouds everywhere, suffocating me.  I go into emergency mode, trying to stride out and loosen the lactic acid stranglehold on my legs. I had made up some ground on blonde girl but she was keeping pace, just out of reach. Clemson was following her on the course, so at least I knew I wasn’t going off track. First recorded mile was 6:49 so not too bad after the initial mile of insanity. The course was thankfully almost completely flat. The next few miles were a blur – I kept chasing the Elloree water tower in the distance and seeing the sunlight and my chance of beating Clemson fade away. I faded into some 6:50’s a couple of times and was generally hating life, verbally abusing myself for being so stupid with the early pace. I could see Elloree start to come into view but I could also hear a train coming. For several minutes, I had a racemare of blonde girl beating the train and me getting stuck behind.  Luckily, we were just slow enough to both miss it after it passed through. I came rumbling into Elloree just after sunset and fell into a crumpled mass in the dirt after handing off to Code. Nice job, hero. According to the spreadsheet I was better than goal pace (6:45), so that first mile must have been a freaking sprint. Blonde girl whipped my tail and probably added some seconds to their lead. Definitely NOT the way to start off a relay with 2 more legs to go.

We then went to Santee State park, one of the huge van switch exchange zones. Van 1 was waiting for us and was closely following our progress via our group text. As usual, we were still behind most of the earlier start groups and most had cleared out by the time we got there. Plexico was there and confirmed he was not a Sole Asylum ringer but was a last second addition to a team with a family connection. Running Under the Influence had an awesome tent and chairs set up for their camp, so that may need to happen for VOTR in the future.

Code came in right on pace for his tough 7.4 miler, though Clemson had another beast and stretched their lead some. After the handoff to David, it was 8:30ish and we had some time to kill. First off: FOOD. I have long since dispensed with my early strategy of eating light – my crackers and GU of the 2010 relay nearly landed me in the med tent. You need real food to fuel 15 miles of hard racing. After a failed attempt at Cracker Barrel (we vetoed the 25 min wait) we settled on Pizza Hut. Santee’s Pizza Hut may not win any culinary awards, but their pizza after a hard 10k tasted like filet mignon. Brandon and Rob stepped up their grease game with a large garlic knot crust pizza to share between the two of them. Brandon said he had license to be a fat bitch if he was going to run this much. I wholeheartedly agree. They actually got a to-go box, which added a tinge of garlic to our enticing van aroma of sweat funk.

After face stuffing, our next step was to journey to the next van exchange zone and attempt to get some sleep before Bitz had to take off at 1 am for our second shift of legs. Darrell likens a 15 passenger van to a monte carlo indy car, so we made it there in record time with plenty of g-forces to churn up that pizza hut. When we got there…holy crap. After starting so far behind everybody, we had clearly caught up with the main pack. Galilee Christian Church, site of the most amazing midnight sandwiches on Earth, was Grand Central Station. The volunteers were having to stuff vans in like sardines, and we were one of the unlucky vehicles right next to where the runners were coming in. I did see they had a sleeping area inside, which was vaguely creepy with people camped out on the church pews. I opted to stay in the van since it was crowded in the church and freezing outside. Sleep, though, was an elusive beast. For one, we couldn’t figure out why the back light wouldn’t turn off, and deemed it must be an evil spirit cursing poor Julie, who had the seat right below it.  In addition to the constant loud talkers/screamers of our fellow competitors, the main volunteer had a pair of lungs that would make Christina, Pharrell, Adam and Blake all turn around. Over and over again, I kept hearing what sure as hell sounded like “MY BOYS! COME INTO MY BOYS!”. It wasn’t until about a sleepless hour into this, with the whole van in a giggling delirium, that we realized BOYS was actually VOICE. He was directing people into the exchange zone, which was a confusing Times Square of lights in the middle of nowhere. Nonetheless, COME INTO MY BOYS became the unofficial rallying cry of Van 2 from then on.

About 12:30, Tracy came blazing into MY BOYS and Bitz took off like a mission. A few 7 minute miles later, poor Dan had to rock out a 9.75 miler in the middle of the night. I can’t imagine how much that must have sucked after the horrific climb of Mt St Matthews earlier. He crushed it in sub 6:30 pace and had more road kill than you could count.  Meanwhile, I stood at the next exchange, cold and tired but dead set on improving my craptastic leg 1. I tried an espresso love GU, but only choked a little down before fearing a Pizza Hut reversal. Clemson was right there, listening to Eminem’s Lose Yourself, which I deemed must be classic rock to these guys. One of their girls took off about 8 or 9 minutes ahead of my start at about 2:30 am.

Leg 2 – NOT GOING GENTLY INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT – 5.6 miles – Hatchery Waterfowl Management Boat Landind to Berkeley Elementary School, Moncks Corner, SC

Despite my urge to seek revenge on leg 1, I made sure to not pull another 6:10 first mile like I probably did before. As usual, leg 2 is actually easier, because you’re not running completely cold. The 10k earlier seemed to make it easier to find my stride on this leg, which was a nearly flat and straight route on a lightly traveled highway. It being in the middle of nowhere and 2:30 am, this could have been a deadly boring run. Luckily, we were right in the midst of all the other teams at this point, giving plenty of lights up ahead to catch and keep me going. I think I must have passed about 10 people in the early miles, including one that called me by name. Turns out it was James Lichty, a guy I went to college with and running on a Columbia area F3 team. Cool to see a familiar face out here in the jet black darkness in the middle of the night. I hit mile 1 in 6:36 and just focused on maintaining this pace. Next few miles were metronome-like, 6:31 and 6:32’s. First 3 miles felt great, but suckage began in the last 2.5. I was hitting the same pace but laboring a lot more. But I’ll be damned if I was slowing down. Not when that next light may be Clemson girl. By the time mile 5 buzzed on my Garmin (another 6:31), I was begging for this misery to stop. Thankfully, Moncks Corner is beautifully flat and so straight that I could see the exchange zone forever. I was so gassed but seeing/hearing the zone poured enough adrenaline into my veins I was able to take down one last roadkill. OK, she was walking, but I have no shame. Passed off to Code and sucked wind like there’s no tomorrow. Except there was, and only 7 hours away. Code and Brandon kept up the strong pace with a couple of 4 milers, though Brandon survived a delayed colonic attack by the garlic knots just before his run. Rob then faced the most brutal task of our van. Having already done a 5:45 4 miler, he was going to have to do an 8 mile leg as the last of this shift, then another 8 miler as the first leg of our third shift only 4 hours later. He responded accordingly with a blazing 6:10 pace and picking up another ton of roadkill in the process. I’d like to say I cheered him at the finish, but it turns out I passed out in the van during his hour run. Don’t remember a thing. At least I got in some crucial Z’s though.

In my near comatose state, I felt Code racing the van again like Mario Andretti, all the way to Mount Pleasant, where we crashed out in Jennie Moore Elementary. We had finally gone through the entire pack and now had the school to ourselves and a few other vans. Without COMING INTO MY BOYS, we all crashed hard. There had been some talk of Waffle Housing it, but that idea lost out to pure, unmitigated exhaustion. One moment we were parking the van, then the next it was light out, probably an hour or so later. Just that little bit of sleep felt like heaven though. What was not like heaven was sitting up and realizing I had passed out with my neck in a weird position. Hurt like bloody hell. After a few seconds of terror, I realized it wasn’t going to affect my running. I pounded some ibuprofen, stuffed my face with my cinnamon raisin bread and drank the rest of the gallon of water I had been nursing all relay. It wasn’t pretty, but I was ready.

Brian let us know when their last runner, Tracy, was out on his run. He also let us know Clemson probably had 10-12 minutes on us. With that lead, and only 6 legs to go, it was looking grim. At least third was nowhere in sight. For some time we debated the “Blazing Eights” plan. As in phone in the rest at 8 minute pace – fast enough to keep 2nd and not kill us. But eventually Brian told us that “Anything can happen”, and none of us wanted to be the first one out there blazing those eights. Rob was really hurting but no one wanted to trade legs at this point. No way could I do an 8 miler. He sucked it up and headed out to the exchange zone. Waiting for him was Thunder thighs, and our hearts sank even more. Oh well, here we go.

Rob took off and we headed over the IOP connector to the exchange zone for my last leg. I always love this part of the relay -the sun has come up, and you can see the ocean from the connector, which is the site of my very first 5k in 2007 (IOP connector 5k – 27:05). Appropriately, I would be pulling another 5k for this 3rd leg, hopefully a bit faster than my last 3 miler on Isle of Palms. One of Clemson’s guys was there, who was really nice and informed us he was born in 1996. Damn that made me feel old. The Thighs came blasting in soon thereafter, having crushed 6 minute flat pace over the 8 miler and looking like he went out for a Sunday jog. Ten minutes later Rob rolled in, so amazingly we hadn’t lost any time against their best runner. Rob gets major kudos for doing those double 8 milers only a few hours apart.

LEG 3 – SPLITS AND S@$#^S – 2.95 miles – Sullivan’s Island

Knowing Rob hadn’t blazed eights, that Brian was counting on us, and embracing the immortal words of Thunder Dan Bliesner (“The faster you go, the sooner its over), I took off on a mission. And OMG it freaking hurt. I took off like a 5k but it was basically brain battling against my tortured lower body. 12 miles of 10k PR pace had exacted a heavy toll, not to mention an hour of sleep, a jacked up neck and a stomach tossed about by Code pulling G’s around every turn. Thankfully it was pancake flat and straight. I plowed ahead going absolutely as hard as I could go, hitting the same 6:30ish pace at a 6 flat effort. I almost got hit by a car on one of the 50 intersections, but managed to slide right behind it, too afraid to stop. By the mile 2 mark (6:30 again) I was really, really dying. Pretty much in agony, but the finish was so close I could feel it. Finally, I saw that beautiful EXCHANGE ZONE AHEAD sign, turned the corner, and I’ve never been so glad to see Brandon in my life. Redlined the finish to a 6:27 split and 6:30 overall. Unbelievably glad to be done. Complete toast.

As soon as my delirium passed, my teammates were buzzing about our deficit being down to only 4 minutes. Apparently the Clemson kid had some GI distress and was forced to run/walk the last bit. Hate that for him, from the words of El Capitan, “Anything can happen”.

And things did definitely happen. Leg 33 had a turnaround at the end of the island that had some very confusing signage. We took a wrong turn with the van and had to circle back around. I saw the Clemson girl heading backwards on the course, apparently lost. After a couple of other turnarounds we finally got back on course almost 20 minutes after Brandon started. We finally got to the Ben Johnson bridge from Sullivan’s to Mount Pleasant and we were all shocked. Brandon was up near the top and Clemson girl was about 100 meters BEHIND him. Sweet baby Jesus. As we crested the bridge, the whole van screamed at him to run as hard as he could, and he gave us a total WTF look. On the way to the exchange zone, Code and Bitz were all of a sudden super nervous and they agreed to swap legs, giving Code the longer 4.3 miler and Julie the 3.12 mile one, since Code was 6:45ish pace and Julie 7ish. Brandon came rolling in at just over 7 minute pace for his 5.8 miler and Julie took off like a girl on fire. Clemson came in a couple of minutes later and were none too pleased. They had a strong runner in their next leg and we knew it was going to be close from now on. We followed Julie onto Coleman blvd and by chance van 1 was parked right nearby – she had the whole team screaming for her at once. She ended up throwing down a 5k almost as fast as a fresh legged one – 6:45ish pace. Pretty amazing for a leg 3. Code went off on leg 35, a 4.3 miler over the bridge into Charleston. Clemson was super close, only about a minute and a half behind. Same blonde girl who kicked my ass on leg 1. In the meantime, Brian informed us Clemson had filed a complaint that Brandon had cut the course short. Brandon admitted to a misdirect but swore he got back on course without cutting it short. He doesn’t wear a Garmin, or any watch for that matter, so it was our word against theirs. The race director would have to wait and see the outcome before making a ruling. As you might expect, we were less than pleased with this turn of events, and there was definitely some unspoken tension at the last exchange zone, with our 2 teams the first to arrive. After several nervous minutes, we erupted when Code pulled into view around the corner. We had Dan, one of our fastest, on the anchor leg – a 5.35 miler back over the bridge into Patriots Point. We waited to see how much a lead he would have – their anchor runner looked strong. We waited…and waited…and waited. Twelve minutes went by. Something was definitely wrong – either the girl completely bonked, or more likely, was lost. Clemson took off on a search party for her as we piled into the van and sped off for the finish. We were at Patriots Point for only about ten minutes when Dan comes blazing in , catching us off guard. We missed the team finish but we crossed in 23 hours and 4 minutes, a 6:45 overall pace. A huge pace PR for our team. We waited anxiously at the line, fearing that a close finish would force the director into making a tough judgement call about their complaint. But it was not to be. Clemson showed up 39 minutes later, and the complaint was moot. We were champions once again!

OK, so this was obviously not the way I would have liked it to go down. I wouldn’t wish poop attacks and misdirects on anyone. I was hoping that after the screwy leg 33 that it would be a real battle to the finish, but them getting lost again negated any of that. They definitely had a faster team, but I guess the combined experience doing the relay for all these years finally paid off. To their credit, Clemson was gracious in defeat. It was a sweet win nonetheless, and my hat goes off once gain to our fearless leader, El Capitan, for masterminding another P200 championship!

http://www.palmetto200.com/

The Run Hard marathon/half and 5k is now in its 3^rd year, having risen like a phoenix from the ashes of the Columbia Marathon’s two year run. How Jesse Harmon took on this huge project in 2014 with minimal prep time, is beyond me. The idea of directing a small 5k seems overwhelming. But somehow it was done, and the race seems to be a big success. Unfortunately Myrtle Beach moved their date to the same weekend this year, which may have cut down on the elite participation. It didn’t seem to hurt the overall registration though.

My favorite part about this race has been the relay. Team Blue Shoes has done well, taking the overall win one year and placing second another. I am notoriously late in throwing these teams together, since the CRC banquet prep seems to occupy most of my time until early February. This year I got the Code on board early, and he was able to semi-convince our Palmetto 200 teammate Julie Bitzel to join as well. All we needed was one more female for a coed team. Unfortunately, our attempts were unsuccessful. Given both of our track records with women, this should not be surprising.  To our credit, we were looking for at least a sub-24 5ker , so the candidate pool is relatively small. And it was inside of 2 weeks to race day. And it didn’t help that the late relay team fee came out to 47.50 a person either. Alas, our team did not come together. Code opted just to spectate, but I had to do something. At the last second, and even knowing that my masters archnemesis Jeff Brandenburg was signed up, I opted for the 5k. Somewhere in my melon-headed grandiosity I think I can beat him, despite being handicapped by 30+ extra pounds and the fact that my 5k is NOT a warmup for my 100 mile bike ride later.  I never claimed to make rational running related decisions.

So the 5k it is. Since I’m still in the throes of Boston training, I decided to make the race part of my long run for the day. Doing solo Sunday long runs a day after a race is pretty much nails on a chalkboard, so if I could get it done on Saturday with the race crowd, that would be considerably better. I showed up an hour ahead of time and put in some miles with Rob “the Yerg” Yerger and Randy “Don’t pronounce the H” Hrechko. The Run Hard races are like a party for the Columbia Running community, so tons of familiar faces. Even the Harbison Trail Runners came out of the forest and helped man the pace groups.

The Half and full went off 30 minutes before the 5k, so I took a bunch of pics at the first turn. Looked like a pretty good crowd. As noted, not a whole lot of elite looking runners. Anton Bodourov was there at the start, and I asked him if he was going to win. Just a smile. Dude knew he was walking into a trophy hunt.

A half an hour later I’m at the 5k start, where hopefully someone got some pics of me photobombing the 5 chick fil a cows they had there. Chick fil a was the sponsor and offered free weekly meals for a year to the top 3 overall men and women. Sadly, with Striggles and Parker Roof there, along with a young guy in a singlet (later identified as Miles Fowler), Travis Moran and yes, even Brandenburg, my shot at chicken was slim to none.  Drew and Tracy Williams, Leeds Barroll, Pete Poore, Alex Ponomarev, John Gasque, Will Brumbach, Ryan Shelley, Johnathan Kirkwood, Jennifer Clyburn, Joyce and Tate Welch, Tracy Meyers, Luci and Jeff Smith, Brittany Robbins, Henry Holt, Rocky Soderberg, Patti and Ken Lowden were the familiar faces. Pretty strong CRC turnout for what was clearly the trophy hunt undercard race of the day. I have taught my constituents well.

OK, quick course review. I had never raced the 5k but I know the USC campus like the back of my hand, especially those routes headed towards 5 points. Mile 1 looked blazing fast, basically the mirror image of the brutal Gov Cup Blossom street finish. Mile 2 looked to be precisely the opposite, making up all that elevation in almost exactly one mile. Mile 3 was fairly flat, with parts of Bunny Hop, the Long Run and Main St crit courses.

The start was predictably fast, a long flat straightaway on Sumter st in front of the Horseshoe, followed by a squiggle on Green and continuing on Main. Drew and JB are crushing it and gap me from the beginning. I’m always kind of sluggish out of the gates so I try and at least keep these guys in range. Randy and Brumbach should be nearby, so I assume just behind me. Some kid from the Run Hard program is latched on to me for the first quarter mile, and I have visions of getting a beat down by an 8 year old before he finally wears out. Main st turns downhill, slowly at first before turning into a freefall. The Blue Shoes paradox, familiar to readers of this blog, is that my sasquatch physique does terribly on downhills and better on climbs. I mean, gravity should be my friend. Unfortunately it turns me into a rubber chicken, flopping all over the place, heel striking and basically wasting all of my significant potential energy. I try to do all of this rubber chickening as fast as I can, since the JB and Drew tandem are trying to pull away. While far superior athletes, they both have been shamed by the Sasquatch on occasion, and have subsequent deep-seated fear of stomping blue shoes.

Mile 1 comes back in 6:11, which seems actually a little slow, since we’re basically falling off a cliff. I’m apparently not very good at that. Just after the mile marker, Roy Shelley is there directing us into the torture chamber of mile 2. Up Laurens street we go.  Laurens is a nice walk up from Blossom to the Salty Nut Cafe, site of my many misguided beer and life decisions in the mid 90’s. Racing up this thing is even worse than that Jager mini bottle night in 1996. The pace feels absolutely glacial after the downhill freefall.  I start sounding like a wounded elephant hoofing up this mountain. But, as the paradox states, I start reeling people in. First Drew then some other random guys. Soon its just me and the Brandenburg. I had drawn pretty close to him by the turn onto Pendleton, but by the time my heart and lungs stopped pummeling my chest wall, he had pulled ahead again. At the next turn on Pickens, Code is taking pictures. JB does a blue shoes style pose and takes a quick look back. At least I’m in his head.

Mile 2 comes back in 6:48. Yikes, holy slowdown. All of the uphill on the entire course is crammed into that mile, so I guess that’s to be expected. Still, I had better kick it up a notch to make sure I at least get under 20. Mile 2 starts near Gervais and does a pretty flat rectangle back to the finish in front of the state house. I’m hurting pretty bad but the flatness is beautiful after the mountain climb. I can see JB and Shawanna up ahead but the male chicken dinner winners are out of sight. We head back home on Main after the turnaround on Taylor. The Soda City market is setting up so they send everyone through a chute in the middle of the street. I can see the finish far up ahead which helps me launch into overdrive. I’m getting closer and closer to JB, but just when I think I have him in range, he throws in one last surge in the last two blocks and breaks my spirit. I cross the line 5 seconds behind in 19:34.  8th overall/7th male/2nd masters. I had a shortish course with 3.06, but its certified and some others got 3.10-3.12.

I had to get a long run in, so I ended up running the half course in reverse with the Code. Got in nearly 20 for the day and I was definitely toast after climbing up Blossom at the end. Sadly, I missed the awesome awards ceremony with multiple Chick fil A cow mascot photo ops. Tragic.

Taking the overall was Rashad Striggles in 17:30, just ahead of Miles Fowler. Parker Roof took 3rd in 18:07. Shawanna led the way for the women with a 19:10, with Laura Holt and Jennifer Clyburn in 2nd and 3rd around 23 minutes. They actually did masters out to three places, though sadly there was no chicken for the old folks. JB, myself and Randy did a CRC sweep of male masters, while Joyce, Melissa Lance and Barbara Brandenburg won among the ladies.

Age grouper honor roll: Joyce’s son Tate claimed the 2-10. Ryan Shelley won 3rd in a tough 11-14. Brittany Robbins was champ of the 15-19. Travis Moran finished a painful 4th, just outside of the chicken, but got first in the 25-29. Drew Williams and Will Brumbach took the top 2 male 35-39 spots, with Luci Smith 3rd among the women. Chris Fawver had a blue shoe finish for the ages and got a PR 24:22. Johnathan Kirkwood and Tracy Tisdale-Williams were champs of the 45-49. Tracy Meyers and Tom Tanner did the same in the 50-54. John Gasque won the 55-59. Pete Poore and Leeds Barroll went 2-3 in the 60-64. Sue Porter won on the women’s side . Patti Lowden was 2nd in the 65-59 while Alex Ponomarev and Ken Lowden took 1st and 3rd among the men. Henry Holt and Rocky Soderberg claimed the top 2 in the 70-98.

Full Marathon: Anton Bodourov made good on my prediction, crushing the competition with a 2:55 on this brutal course at age 45. Not too shabby. Palmetto 200 teammate Kevin Selinsky paced the 3:05 group only to finish alone and claim 3rd! Whitney Carpenter took 2nd and Jennifer Kryzanowski claimed 3rd among the women . Tracy McKinnon was also pacing and got 1st masters for his efforts. Age groupers: Ty Thomas was 3rd in the 45-49. Other finishers I recognize: Kenneth and Brooke Ebener, Scott Flicker, Blair Baldwin, Travis Cowan. Rick Gibbons, Rick Stroud, Winston Holliday, Dean Schuster also helped out as pacers.

Half: Kenny Rayner, Javier Torres, and John Krenar won the podium for the men, Caroline Day, Cymbeline Wilke and Katie Hammock won for the women. Cymbeline is the only local name I recognize out of those six. Toby Selix won masters in 1:26 while Larry Bates took 3rd in 1:36. Age groupers: Fiona Martin and Kimberly Hardin went 1-2 in the 30-34, while Ryan Sacko was 2nd among the men. Nance and Yerg took the top 2 35-39 spots despite Mike pacing and Rob doing his Boston marathon pace. James Lichty was 3rd in the 40-44. Sherri Mims won the 40-44 women while Jennifer Conrick took home the 45-49. Jeff Burgess and Phil Togneri were 1st and 3rd in the 50-54. Lisa Powell, Terri Pignone and Anita Recchio won the 50-54 women. Jim Williams was 2nd in the 55-59. Mike Compton was champ of the 60-64. Brigitte Smith won the 65-69 and Ron Hagell took 2nd in the 70-98.

Oh, and the relay. Three Michelin teams swept the men’s podium with 1st in 3:56, so clearly we missed that trophy hunt. Four Women and a Baby (Carol Wallace, Sandi Smith, Tricia Roland and Coleen Strasburger) won the women’s relay with JZ’s angels (Debbie McCauley, Brandi Bradley, Dawn Woodrow and Pam Zemp) winning female masters. I’m sure JZ (John Zemp) was proud.  The Coed relay was won in 2:57, so we would have been hard pressed to beat that.

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1074190005

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/16RUNHARD_5K.TXT

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/16RUNHARD_HALFMARTHON.TXT

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/16RUNHARD_MARTHON.TXT

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/16RUNHARD_RELAYMARTHON.TXT

With a couple of races in town every weekend, I’ve only traveled to run a handful of times. Sure, I’ve jumped into a few races on vacation – an addict always has to get his fix – but it’s pretty rare for me to go somewhere specifically to race. The ridiculous production of hydrating/pooping/stretching/warm-up/breakfast is chaotic enough when you’re own home, but its a whole other thing from a hotel.

But Derek Gomez pitched an offer to Team Utopia last month – come run the fastest, net-downhill half marathon in the state and stay at his parent’s unoccupied house in Simpsonville. Intersperse all of the above with beer. I had a hard time giving up my March for Meals (first trophy ever) and Lexington Race Against Hunger (a standard on the racing calendar for 6+ years) but eventually I gave into the offer just 2 weeks from race day.

That being said , I haven’t raced a half marathon since Savannah 2014. That one was a perfect storm of awesomeness – one of my greatest races of all time and a PR by 2 minutes. I almost didn’t want to tarnish the memory. But eventually I had to do another one. This one was to be an experiment of sorts. I have been training for Boston merely to finish and enjoy that race, figuring it to be the pinnacle and perhaps last chapter of my marathon career. So zero speedwork outside of my weekly races. I’ve been religious about the long run, slogging out 16,18,20 milers by myself at 9:30 pace. I’ve somehow cursed all my usual training partners to injury. I had a fair amount of anxiety about this race as I had no idea of what I might be capable. There was just no recent data to go on. I decided to try for a sub 1:30 figuring there would be at least a 50/50 chance of a complete crash and burn.

I drove up to Greenville after work on Friday. For those of you living in Irmo, Chapin and Lexington – I feel your pain. Traffic is a supreme cluster. Accommodations at Chateau de Gomez were superb. He had a pasta dinner waiting for us (Michael Nance, Justin Bishop and Ivanka Tolan) and coffee/breakfast in the morning. You can’t beat that. Oh, and he picked up our packets. We are forever grateful, Derek.

The Swamp Rabbit course is point-to-point, starting at Travelers Rest High School and ending at the TD Bank amphitheatre along the Reedy River in Greenville. After going about a mile north, and running some coned off roads, mile 3 to the finish is basically following the Swamp Rabbit trail – a paved pedestrian/bike path that goes over 30 miles from TR to Simpsonville. The best part is, since its point-to-point, is a net downhill as you follow the natural decline in elevation towards the coast.

We get there way early to be safe. They had shuttles to and from the finish, which sounds nice. However, since it was 30 degrees and no inside place to wait (<cough> high school gym <cough>) everyone from the shuttles were fighting hypothermia. We did the multiple car thing based on Justin’s experience from last year. Hence my butt was overly warm in the heated seats of my Honda Pilot. Nice.

A few from Columbia were on hand. Jeff Godby and Shannon Iriel were there, which I was very happy about, since they would be good pacers with our similar half times. It was nice to see Shawanna White and Rashad Striggles, though both would be in different time zones from me. Michael Jensen was representing for Team Utopia – fresh off a sub 22 PR at Race for the Place.

I lined up close to the start with the narrow trail, but backed off the actual line because there were a ton of lean, singlet types that looked like they do my 5k pace to warm up. I’m sure the 2% body fat crew was wondering why some Sasquatch with an iphone was in their midst, but they were unaware of my X-men mutant power.

After freezing my butt off for a couple of minutes, we were off. The first mile and a half was actually away from Greenville and featured some of the few hills on the course. Nothing too bad. I realized I had absolutely no idea how to pace this. My goal was 6:52/mile and run it as even as possible. Hitting that first split would be crucial. I drafted behind Jeff and Shannon for most of the first mile but surged ahead when things were getting cramped. This race was ridiculously competitive, so I felt completely like a mid-packer. I was able to find a little space and hit the mile marker at 6:46. Whew – this was good. A little fast for the first mile, but pretty close. Second mile started to suck. There were a few inclines and it seemed like I as laboring more than I should. It also always hurts to know you are running away from the finish line in a whole other city. Mile 2 comes back in 6:59 and I am really thinking this is going to turn south in a hurry. We hit a nice downhill but I’ve got some nasty lactic acid building up in my calves. I don’t know whether its being cold or anxious but I better shake this out quick. I was bummed to see Shawanna dropped out near mile 3, but she seemed like she was OK. I got passed by a couple of young guys and Jeff pulled alongside for the next couple of miles. He asked how I was doing and I think I said something vulgar to the effect of NOT GOOD. Shannon said she was going strong, drafting just behind my sizable Saquatchian wake.Despite the crap feeling, I was hitting 6:40’s thanks to two mostly downhill miles back on the trail.

At mile 4 I realized I really needed to change something up because I couldn’t bear 9 more miles feeling like this. I focused on driving from my hips and putting less stress on my calves/ankles, letting them relax as much as possible. I don’t know whether this strategy worked or my legs finally warmed up, but things got much better very quickly. I fell into a good rhythm and just spaced out for awhile. Lots of downhill and flats. I ran by myself for awhile and then ran in tandem with a younger guy who looked to be in way better shape. I think he wasn’t liking some 40 year old beast catching him but we might as well have been holding hands for a good couple of miles. I was nervous about a crash because I had left my GU in my bag in Derek’s car. I was overjoyed at mile 6 when I heard someone shout GU at the end of a water station. I grabbed a water and tried to get the gel but the teen girl was spaced out and I missed the exchange. DOH! I debated about stopping to get it but I didn’t want to break stride from this zone I was in. Oh well, I hadn’t trained with GU so maybe this was a good thing. No one wants a pooptastrophe in a race.

The middle miles were a blur. I lost Mr. Fit and focused on pacing with the trio of young guys who passed me at mile 3. My mind wrestled with the creeping anxiety of an epic bonk and the euphoria of possibly crushing my goal time. Just hit even splits, don’t get crazy. Run in that comfortably hard zone just outside of your lactate threshold. My dream-like state was awakened by another “GU!” shout at the next aid station. This time the exchange was a success and i held a completely random chocolaty flavored accel gel  in my hand. Conventional wisdom always says don’t try anything new on race day, but it also says don’t race every weekend and jump into half marathons with no real training. Here goes nothing. The chocolate was thick and kind of gross, but whatever, i figured it had sugar and maybe some caffiene. Took me most of the next mile to finish it, since eating and 6:40 pace don’t really go well together.

Just after mile 9, I had a sudden moment of euphoria. I was still banking time towards my 1:30 goal, and I started to recognize the course. I had done an 8 mile out and back on the swamp rabbit from my hotel in Greenville last April, and here it was – the place I turned around. This memory, and a nice downhill ahead, helped me recover some.The distance was starting to take its toll, and I was no longer in my nice comfy space. The mile 10 marker was a sudden surprise after I was lost in my head for awhile. This is it – 5k to go. I thought I was ramping up the pace, but it was more like ramping up the effort. This far in, it just took more to keep up the same pace. It felt faster though, because the field started coming back to me. First two of the young guys. Then a couple of masters/grandmasters women and men who reminded me how crazy competitive this race is. I finally caught tall dreadocked kid who had left his two buddies and looked back to see a gasping Sasquatch tracking him down. Catching him launched me into full on kick mode around mile 11. The course starts taking some twists and turns with a lot of road crossings, so this was making it tough. Still mostly flat though. I finally caught a kid who looked 15-16 who I saw at the start, with 1:25 goal splits written on his arm. I got excited at this idea but then even my fuzzy mile 11 math calculated he was just having a bad day. With the mile 12 marker I pushed in all the chips. With a  6:41 and still banking time against the 1:30, it dawned on me I was probably closer to flirting with the PR. By this time you can see all of downtown Greenville around you, with the noise of traffic and spectators ramping up. I was begging for the finish by now because the kick I began at mile 10 was running out of steam quickly. Justin came into view, and he was stationed right at the half mile from the finish mark – 800 meters! two loops of the track! go hard at the turn onto the street! Any restraint went out the window at this point.  I almost ran over some woman on her Saturday morning jog who refused to yield an inch to someone flailing away at the end of a half. I used some of my precious remaining oxygen to curse her but then I saw the street. I was absolute toast on the little bridge over the Reedy river but by then the street is lined with people screaming. I finally saw the finish chute and gave it everything I had left.  Hit the line right at 1:28:32.

Wow, so this was beyond anything I had hoped. I would have been thrilled with anything sub 1:30 and I had come oh so close to bagging the whole thing at mile 4. I was a little disappointed I missed out on the awards (this was only good for 5th in age group) but this is probably the most competitive half I’ve ever done. I think i was top 40 at Savannah, only good for 6oth here. I was also bummed at coming so close to my PR, which I was almost sure was 1:28:22 at Savannah. After the results came online they gave me a 1:28:27 by the chip (which matches the time on my Garmin). After a few beers at the Whistle Stop in TR, I did a quick check of the 2014 Savannah results. HOLY CRAP. It was my marathon time (3:11:22) that had the 22 seconds. My half was 1:28:29. So I got my PR! Two measly seconds. Sure glad I didn’t go back to get that first GU.

Two of my TUS teammates absolutely destroyed their PRs – Michael Nance did a 1:22:51 and Gomez finished just behind him in 1:23 flat. Both their bests by a few minutes. Gomez was able to get 2nd in AG but somehow Nance got nothing (4th) due to the unbelievable field. Speaking of unbelievable, Bishop rocked a 1:15 and got all of 3rd in AG. Insane. Godby got a PR as well, finishing in 1:30:07. Shannon crushed it, clocking a 1:30:53 and capturing 1st in AG. An awesome time after having a very rough injury-ridden year and not racing since last year’s Jailbreak. Ivanka had a tough day with some walksies but still did a very respectable 1:38 (4th in AG). Michael Jensen completed the PR parade with a 1:43:48, breaking his old mark by several minutes. Rashad Striggles went low 1:15 and captured 2nd masters in this brutal field. Erin Suttman was 1st in the 20-24.

In the overall, Brett Morley, our Long Run 15k champ, took the win in 1:07:52. Ladies winner was Victoria Hammersmith in a smoking 1:17:37. Matt Shock was 6th overall in 1:11:52. EA’s Alyssa Bloomquist took 3rd female. Caitlin Batten and Michele Ziegler were the top 2 30-34 women. The ageless Susi Smith took 3rd masters female in 1:29:52 at age 56 – incredible. I heard her support just behind me most of the race.

Amazing times on this super fast course and perfect weather!

http://www.setupevents.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=page&filename=GHSHalfresults.html

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1066195206

The Race for the Place is now in its 6^th year and has become one of the more competitive winter 5ks on the Tour de Columbia. Proceeds go to fund St Lawrence place (the “place” in the title), a local shelter for homeless women with families.

Beyond the obvious good cause, it has been a regular on the Blue Shoes calendar for a) great race direction by Missy Caughman b) numerous photo ops with Cocky and/or local celebs,  c) awesomely flat course, d)  cool painted tile age group awards and e) race shirts you actually want to wear outside of running.  Basically hitting all the major check boxes for getting the Albino Sasquatch seal of approval.

The caveat –  everyone else likes this stuff too. In the past, the race has been an absolute antithesis of a trophy hunt. Just beasts everywhere. The worst example – 2013. I ran one of my better 5ks of all time – a 19 flat, and ended up 5^th in age group. Third went to Derek Gomez, who ran an 18:30 something. Unreal.

This year there was a bit of dueling winter-flat-Shandon -rectangles-out-of-St-Joe’s-church races going on, with Run with the Saints a month earlier. RWTS used the same course, but backwards, and courted a lot of local elites. Consequently, RFTP had less of the beast factor this year. I think this might have inspired some Taylor Swift level Bad Blood, but RFTP still ended up with a record crowd, so I guess all is good. Both races are high quality.

I was feeling pretty good after the 19:19 last week, so I was hoping for a similar performance this time around.  It about killed me, but I decided to turn down the double dip opportunity of Brookland Cayce’s Run to the Plate just an hour later. Boston is looming just ahead and I have to slog out these Sunday long runs to at least pretend I can still run a marathon. Double frying the legs with a double dip Saturday is probably not conducive to this plan. I opted to take pics at the BC race instead.

I showed up my customary hour ahead of time and parked the car strategically for a quick getaway. Temps were a lot warmer than last week but not too bad. Justin had organized RFTP as a Team Utopia goal race, so the black and gold were out in force. Myself, Code, David Russell, Michael Nance, Ivanka and Eliere Tolan, Sheila Bolin, Ashley “bud light lime” Horton, Tracy Meyers, Joyce “puppet master” Welch with son Tate, Kana Rahman , Michael Jensen, Brittany and Jeffrey Robbins,  Brenda Brazell, Betty Gregory and all 3 Bishops ( Justin, Christina and Olivia) were representing. Sarah and Eric Allers were on hand representing Reckless Running.  Rashad Striggles and John Charlton amped up the elite factor and made for a brutal masters category.  Other familiar faces were race director Missy Caughman, Erin and Parker Roof, Randy Hrechko, Wilson Harvey, Lois Leaburn, Teresa Harrington, Sandra Ricciuto, Ron Hagell,  Arnold Floyd, John Gasque, Eme Crawford, Jennife Glass, Lorand Batten, Alex Ponomarev, Kat Hudgens, Donna Freeman, Rocky Soderberg, Renee and Patrick McCormick, Bob Petruzzi, Kerry Stubbs, and Sharon Sherbourne.

After awesome selfie opportunities with WIS’ Judy Gatson and USC women’s BB coach Dawn Staley, we were off. The first leg of the rectangular course is a nice long slight decline down Bonham. I went out fast but tried to be more controlled this time, figuring right around 6:10 pace would be perfect. Having spent so much pain cave time last week, I was a little hesitant to jump right in and set up camp. Maybe I was fitter and it wouldn’t be so bad this time. Totally delusional. I should know, 300 races under my belt, that 5ks always, always are a world of suck. Ride the pain train the whole way or prepare to be disappointed.  Code apparently smoked some high grade meth before the race because dude is crushing it right off the bat. By the time we reach corner number 1 at Heyward, the master of the portapotty has 20 meters in me already. Damn dude, put down the pipe.  I’ve already got some space a half mile in. Wilson Harvey is on my shoulder and I see Nance up ahead, who has been doing these 5ks as part of his Boston long runs. I can still hear Randy and Sarah talking behind me, which is unusual since they’re both so quiet. I see Shawanna spectating at the mile 1 marker, telling me “just two miles to go”. Killing me, Shana. What really kills me is Mr. Garmin spitting back a 6:22. Damn. Way to go with the pacing, chief.

Twelve seconds is an eternity in a 5k, so I’m already heading into Debbie Downer mode. Plus, the 18 mile trail long run I did on a Monday seems to be still lingering in my legs. Definitely not as fresh as the MGC race. Just over a mile and a half in, we finally round the other end of the rectangle on Queen. Shandon cross streets are always slightly uphill in this direction so starting to hurt some. Wilson decides he’s had enough of the large, smelly wake of the Sasquatch and surges ahead. Code is pretty far up there but Russell and Nance have overtaken him and I can sense he’s fighting off the walksies again. Blood is in the water. I round the turn onto Wheat and hit another disappointing 6:21 for mile 2 near Hand middle. A mile left and a Code to track down – time to fire up the kick. Wheat is nice and flat and I ramp up the pace. Lungs are actually not giving me the beat down as much as the general complaining from my legs from the lactic acid bath they are taking.  Nothing breaks the Code’s spirit more than getting passed by 195 pounds of paleness, so I surge to overtake him just as the course veers over a block to finish on Blossom. The surge about kills me and the lungs start to pick up the complaining slack from the legs.  I’m struggling to keep form, especially when Justin comes back on his cool down. Gotta show the coach the nips-to-hips. Finally the clock comes into view just over 19 minutes. One last gasp to try and break 19:30 but I fall a second short.  19:31 officially, 1^st in AG.

Definitely slower than I’d hoped, but I’ll take a first in AG any day, despite the fact that it’s 4^th masters. I finished standing up with no melodramatic pavement humping, so I guess that’s a good thing too. Especially for innocent bystanders.

Taking the overall win was Rashad Striggles in a blazing 16:29. Bishop took second in 16:54 with John Charlton 3^rd. The ladies race was won by Ivanka Tolan in 20:32, followed by Sarah Allers and Mary Lohman. The masters titles went to Eric Allers in 17:53 and Joyce Welch in 23:35.

Age group honor roll: Parker Roof and Brittany Robbins both easily won the 15-19. Wilson Harvey held off the Sasquatchian kick to take 1^st in the 25-29. David Russell won the 30-34 in 19 flat. Nance ran an easy 19:05 to take the 35-39. Eme Crawford finished 2^nd among the women. Myself, Code and Michael Jensen completed a TUS/CRC sweep in the 40-44. Jensen crushed a sub 22 for a new PR. Jennifer Glass finished 3^rd in the 40-44. Randy held off David Andrews to take the 45-49. Sandra Ricciuto won the 45-49 women. Tracy Meyers and Renee McCormick went 1-3 in the 50-54, while Eliere Tolan won 2^nd in the 50-54 men.  Lorand Batten (pulling a kid in a wagon) , double dipping John Gasque and Patrick McCormick took the 55-59 men while Teresa Harrington took 3^rd among the women. Sharon Sherbourne won the 60-64 and Alex Ponomarev was the champ of the 65-69. Betty Gregory took 2^nd in the 65-69 women. Arnold Floyd, Ron Hagell and Rocky Soderberg placed in a stacked 70+ division.

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1057671608

Click to access Updated-Overall-Results-Race-for-the-Place-2.22.2016.pdf

Click to access Race-for-the-Place-Results-By-Age-Division.pdf

Make my Day is a 12k and 5k put on by Half Moon Outfitters to support Harbison State Forest, now in its 7th year. Since I generally suck on the trails, I didn’t show up at this race until 2013. I’ve been back every year since because of the awesome swag Half Moon throws into this race and its a rare chance to go head to head with some of the Harbison Trail Runner guys, on their home course.

As I’ve stated before, I have a love/hate relationship with the trails. I love my Sesqui, only a half mile from my house and full of soft, cushy sand. It’s a great break from the beatdown of the roads and provides a great workout. Plus, its always nice not to have to almost be run over by texting soccer moms in giant SUVs. That being said, racing on trails is a whole other ballgame. Especially anything short. If you’ve never had the joy of a frantic bear chase for your life through the woods, try a trail 5k. I think other people share my opinion since most trail races go long. The long races mess with my head too, since I can’t get a handle on pace and effort, and I either leave some on the course or end up a crumpled sweaty heap at the finish.

Last year I ran a pretty strong race pacing off other people, so I figured I’d do the same this time. The fitness has been slowly getting better with the steady diet of 40-50 miles a week in prep for Boston. The 19:19 5k last week was the best since last spring, when I hitched aboard the injury train and couldn’t get off.

Rolling into Harbison about an hour ahead of time, I was thankful there were only a handful of people there. It seems every race held in this place cheaps out on the bathrooms, so its always a crap shoot (see what I did there) what you’re going to get. Luckily there were at least 2 portapotties plus the one scary Harbison bathroom. If you’ve never used a portapotty when its 28 degrees, I can’t say I recommend it. But at least there wasn’t a line… yet.

I only did about a mile warmup – despite picking up my packet the day before, I got sucked into the smartwool booth where they offer you free socks…if you post a pic of yourself on social media with their hashtag. I sold out like Peyton Manning to get my precious little high end footies. Oh well, its not like I’m not a facebook whore already.

I wussed out on fellow Team Utopia Boston trainees Michael Nance and Derek Gomez’ course preview run before the race but managed to run into them as they finished. They were incorporating the race as a tempo section of their long run, which sounded good, except for the fact that I become a crazed animal whenever I pin that bib on. No way could I go easy on the race. Derek passed on a key, crucial bit of info though – the course was at least 8.5 miles. There had been plenty of info about the course being detoured due to trail conditions and being a little longer, but I had no idea it would be another mile and change.

By the time I got back to the start area, the place was crawling with trail beasts. Rick Stroud and Dean Schuster’s Harbison Trail Runners were out in force in a sea of orange shirts..I mean “tangerine” as Rick corrected me. In addition to Dean and Rick, Winston, Yerg, Bill Siebers, Brian “El Capitan” Clyburn with faithful canine companion Tuff and faithful female companion Jen, Jay Hammond, Harry Strick, Craig Wlaschin, Mr. Tenacious J (Jeff Curran), Rick Gibbons, Tracy and Julie McKinnon and Roy Shelley were out rocking the team shirts. Other familiar faces included Amie Booth (coming back from a shoulder injury), Justin Bishop, Sydney Frontz, Sheila Bolin, Paige Tyler, Teresa Harrington, Mark Bailey, Jennifer Glass,  Andrew Lipps, Kara Clyburn, Eme Crawford, Alfred Baquiran, Betsy and Chad Long, Brigitte Smith and Greta Dobe. I’m forever indebted to Micah Simonsen, who brought a pint of my precious Reisdorff Kolsch as a celebratory drink, provided we made it out of Harbison alive.

The start is a gradual climb on a wide open gravel road, which I took way too hard last year and died. I was a little more judicious this time and held back my Tasmanian devil starting tendencies. 8.5 miles is a long way, especially when I hadn’t raced on trails in months. All I remember from last year was a showdown with Winston and Dean, so I tried to keep these guys in sight. Unfortunately they immediately dropped me like a bad habit, and I got stuck in a conga line in the early going. It was tough alternately riding some guy’s back like a circus monkey and then having some beast breathing down my neck. I had to get out of here. Eventually I found a break and went flying ahead like a runaway bus up the side of the trail. FREEDOM. About 3 miles in I see a familiar gait up ahead and it’s Micah. I catch up to him and he gets the circus monkey experience for a bit until he finally can’t take the psychological torture of a crazed Albino Sasquatch chasing him through the woods. I burst into the clear for awhile. After being alone for about a mile, some random guy comes flying up behind me, and he looks age groupery. Damn, this race is already a freaking olympiad of KNOWN superfit middle aged guys, I don’t need randoms too. We hit the course detour about 4 miles in and all of a sudden we hit a wide open road. PERFECT. I throw the shades on and enter into road racing mode for much of the next mile, tracking down the random and catching sight of some tangerines up ahead.

By the time we hit the singletrack again, Dean and Winston are in shouting distance and Craig Wlaschin is just ahead. I pass Craig, who I figure is either tempoing it or having a bad day because he usually kills me. Random is guiding my way and even passes Dean and Winston up ahead. Finally, I reach them too. I’m pretty gassed from catching up (early miles were 7:50ish, last was 7:15), so by this point all I can do is be the caboose on this 3 man train.  At this point I do some quick calculating. I know Dean and I finished within 2 seconds of each other last year. Dean, and probably Winston too, know this course like the back of their hand and presumably, know how to pace and where to step. I figure I’m in a good spot to just hold on and match these guys, and hope for the best at the hill at the finish.

The next few miles are a blur of tangerine. All I can see is Winston’s back and Dean’s fabulous rhinestone sunglasses. Dean pulls away on the downhills but we catch him on the inlcines. All of us pretty much lock step for what seems like forever. I’m not even totally sure if they know its me behind them, though I’m sure they know some large smelly mammal is back there. Just after mile 7 we hit a long, uphill area that’s pretty open,which is the first part I’ve recognized in miles. All of a sudden, Counselor Holliday acts like he’s seen a federal felon up ahead and takes off. I get frantic and plow ahead after him. Dean says something like “ENJOY, FELLAS” and figure he’s done. Winston is crushing it up the hill but I manage to keep up. We take down a few roadkill along the way. We both slow a little towards the top as the surge apparently has us both pretty wiped. I see Rick Stroud up ahead making a right turn, which I recognize as being just a little over a mile to go.  Having caught our breath a bit, Winston flies down the ensuing decline with Sasquatch in tow. I feel someone on my back now. I take a millisecond sideways glance and I see is oversized bedazzled sunglasses. Damn it, Schuster. The pace is now rabid bear chase level. I get frantic towards the finish of races but know I’ve got to time this surge just right. After a long decline I see an open road in the clearing ahead, which I know must have the killer finishing hill just beyond. I’m starting to gather my strength but all of a sudden there’s a huge water crossing ahead. No way to make this pretty. Winston sidesteps just a bit but I plow through the creek with zero regard for personal safety. The water is insanely cold and I use the adrenaline to push all my chips in.

Crossing the road I attack the hill mercilessly. Arms are flying, legs churning, lungs gasping. I’m probably pulling about mall walker mom pace but damned if it isn’t 1000 percent effort. I hit the gravel road at the top and I’m deathly afraid of Dean outkicking me. He almost caught me last year when I thought I had it in the bag. I seem to have forgotten there is yet another rise just after the gravel road. I’ve got nothing left but the adrenaline has still got me jacked up enough to fake it. At the turn, Garrett Smith tells me its a quarter mile to go. Thankfully its all downhill . I fly down the trail looking like a complete hot mess. Arms flailing everywhere trying to avoid a major wipeout, which seems imminently possible with every root and dip in the path. One last surge as I see the red numbers of the clock and Rick and the random guy (Michael Wyatt) finish up ahead. Crossed the line in 1:06:08, with Dean and Winston finishing just seconds behind.

I would like to think this was a beautifully planned tactical race, but as it turns out, there were just too many 40 something beasts. Took 15th overall, 6th masters. They did 10 year age groups too, so our trio had an all out epic battle for 5th in age group. Even with 5 year groups I would have barely made third. I got 8.46 miles for the detoured course, though some people had over 8.6.

In the 12k, Ian Rose and Keenan Miller took the top overall spots with Justin Bishop and Tim Gibbons just a few seconds behind. Hope Whisman won the women’s race by 9 minutes, with Sydney Frontz and Caitlin Markham finishing the podium.

12k male age groupers: Michael Nance took 2nd in the 35-39 despite logging 17 miles for the day. Tracy McKinnon, Brian Clyburn and Rick Stoud took the brutal 40-49 (the 1:06 minute had six straight 40-49 finishers 3rd-8th). Layton Gwinn, Jay Hammond and Larry Bates swept the 50-59. Pete O’Boyle and Harry Strick went 1-3 in the 60+. Womens: Jen Clyburn won the 30-39.  Julie McKinnon, Betsy Long and Jennifer Glass won the 40-49. Lisa Powell and Monica Wright placed 1st and 3rd in the 50-59. Brigitte Smith took 2nd in the 60-69.

In the 5k, Anthony Brown, John Henis , and Matthew Hooper took the overall. 23:50 was the winning time, making me wonder if I might have had a chance at the trophy hunt holy grail. Alexa Leopold, Erin Leopold and Jaime Walvoord won the womens race.

Men’s 5k age groups: Jeff Curran won the 40-44. Women’s 5k age groups: Lisa King took the win in the 50-59.

http://go-greenevents.com/resultsdetail/id/4536

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1049501055

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The MGC Long Run is now in its third year and has grown to be one of the biggest winter races in Columbia, as well as one of its few 15ks. This year they received RRCA official state championship status for the 15k, ramping up the elite factor even more. The 9.3 mile course is really cool, taking you by the State House and over the river on two different bridges, ending with a tough Blossom St climb and finish on Lady street .

But, as any trophy hunter knows, ALWAYS RUN THE UNDERCARD.  And there it was, the 5k, just sitting there.  Sure there was the “Not so Long run 5k” moniker that basically cried out that you were a wuss for choosing it, but pride is never factor when it comes to the pursuit of shiny metal trinkets. What’s more, I did the 15k last year. Everyone remembers the brutal finish, but I had stored away a memory from last year’s race – the first 3 miles were beautifully flat. These first three miles were also the entire 5k route.  I was in.

The 5k is 30 minutes after the 15k start, so by the time I show up the place is teeming with beasts for the bigger race. The last two years they brought out a Kenyan (Kimutai Cheruiyot )and Michael Banks to the race and the 15k state record was broken by Cheruiyot the first year (and barely missed by Banks in year two). I didn’t recognize anyone capable of those performances but there were some other studs in attendance like Matt Shock and Orinthal Striggles. Anton “The Method” Bodourov was making a rare appearance to crush anyone else’s Masters hopes. Joy Miller, Heather Costello and SR’s Erins – Miller and Suttman – were on hand to make a fast women’s race.

Michael Nance, Winston Holliday, Toby Selix, Randy “don’t pronounce the H” Hrechko,  the Yerg, Whitney Keen and family (Caroline and Julia), Luke Godwin,  Linn Hall, Jay Hammond, The OG, Micah Simonsen, Andy Mikula, Phil Midden,  Charley Clements, Mike Compton, Flicker, Kristin Cattieu, Jason “toonce” Lockhart, Michael Jensen, Jim Lichty, John Bradley, Mary Howk, Rick Gibbons, Kimberly Hardin, Alan Humphries, Deirdre Maldonado,  Rebecca West, Alsena Edwards, Andrew Lipps, Chris Fawver, Carol Wallace, Marlena Crovatt-Bagwell, Mark Robertson, Jeanna Moffett, Wade Bauer, Josh Fowler, Renee McCormick, Sandra Ricciuto, Lois Leaburn, Lisa Smarr, Teresa Harrington, Ron Hagell, Kim La, Kelly Ghent, John Houser, April Hutto, Cheryl  and Tommy Outlaw, Patti Lowden, Dawn Woodrow, Sharon Sherbourne, Hou-Yin Chang, Patrick McCormick, Krystal McManus, Kat Hudgins, Brigitte Smith, Lorraine Wiseman, Irene Bal, Jesse Smarr, Kerry Stubbs are the names and faces I recognize from the 15k runners.  Just about everybody, save for a few trophy hunters who did the 5k and the Lagniappe 5k in Rosewood.

I took some pics of the 15k start and about froze my fingers off just clicking the iphone. Freaking cold. Hopefully that removed most of the competition, though I was wondering if Brandenburg might show up, or maybe Bedenbaugh, to try and steal my masters glory.

The 15k started a little late so I was wondering if the 5k might be backed up too. Luckily Selwyn caught me heading out for a warmup and said it was going to start in 7 minutes. My worst “racemare” is missing the start, so I made sure to circle back around.

At the start line I could scope out the competition. This wasn’t much of a trophy hunt. For one,  Justin Bishop was on hand to crush the field and Parker Roof was surely going to beat me. Code, MC Cox, Drew Williams, Geary McAlister, Daniel Patrick and Will Brumbach were potential combatants in my neighborhood.  Michelle Zeigler was there from Eric Ashton’s racing team. I saw Shawanna earlier but didn’t know where she went. Ivanka Tolan,  Johnathan Kirkwood, Albert Anderson, Roy’s son Ryan Shelley,  Ivanka  Tolan,  Joyce, Brittany Robbins, Andrew Bloxham, Shelley Hinson, Tracy Meyers, Tracy Tisdale, Jennifer Lybrand, Tom tanner, Pete Poore , Henry Holt, Jessica Weaver, Rich Weaver, Susan Weaver, Leeds Barroll, Jennifer Reeves, Ken Lowden, and  Sandra Manning were the familiar faces.

Click to access 5kLongRun.pdf

The start has a track like half mile loop that brings you back towards the finish. With the flat streets and bracing cold, I was going out hard from the get go. I’ve learned the only way to run a fast 5k is to go out hard and hang on. Basically jump in the pain cave and make things cozy, because you’re going to be there the whole damn time. But at first it wasn’t so bad. Lots of crowd support and energy. I was bummed to see Shawanna at the half mile mark looking dejected – I think she missed the start.  After the half mile lap is a long stretch on Marion street. I feel a familiar whipping on my ankles and I cannot freaking believe my shoe has come untied. Three hundred races in You’d think I’d have mastered the task. But no way was I burning this trophy hunt to stop. I am wondering  at this time a) where the hell is Code and Will Brumbach? And b) Why am I sucking so much wind already?  Fortunately Strictly had a mile clock and  as I approached it was still in the fives.  Questions answered.  I passed at about 6:07. Since my injury recovery, I’ve been doing 6:20’s so this was more than just a little speedy. Oh well, the chips are already pushed in.

Mile 2 is kind of a blur. I’m hating life and it feels like I’m slowing down. MC Cox is giving me a beat down and Drew is still up ahead pretty far. I recognize a lot of the course from Bunny Hop, another gloriously flat race. My Garmin buzzes and says my recovery from my last run is “FAIR”. Really, Garmin? I was doing 4 nine minute miles yesterday – I’m pretty sure this is harder than that. Gregg St has a little rise and it’s like a punch to the stomach. I am about toast and starting to mentally struggle when my Garmin beeps again and gives me back an identical 6:07. Wow, I guess that’s why I’m dying. But it’s a big mental boost to still be right on 19 flat pace this far in.

Any hopes of seeing the 18’s however, kind of go out the window on Pickens. This long straightaway lasts forever and is ever so slightly uphill. I’m in a world of hurt. The only thing keeping me going is besting that 19:29 from last weekend and the fact I’m just starting to reel in Drew again. In my death struggle, I see Lady street up ahead and figure its straight to the finish from there. I start to mount whatever kick I can muster but then I see MC Cox go straight. Oh crap, I really should have memorized this course better. Finally we turn left onto Gervais and I know we are getting close. Afterburners go on as my lungs are crying out for mercy. Somehow I catch Drew on Gervais and don’t have any air for snarky comments.  I see a guy up ahead as we turn down Sumter towards Lady and I can’t tell for sure if he’s an age grouper.  I finally catch this guy on Lady and I can see the finish way up ahead. Somehow I find another gear and come barreling down the street , spelunking areas of the pain cave I didn’t know existed. I thought I might be flirting with 18’s but the clock had already turned over. Threw in one last burst to hit the line just under 19:20. 19:19 officially. Fastest 5k since last spring and first masters!

In the 15k, Greenville’s Brett Morley took the win in 48 minutes and change. Matt Shock took second, with Rashad Striggles 4th. On the women’s side, Joy Miller took the win in 56:31 with Heather Costello, Erin Miller and Erin Suttman taking the next 3 spots, all under an hour. Linn Hall and Anton Bodourov captured masters wins.

15k age groupers: Ashley Sears claimed 1st while Kimberly Hardin took 3rd in the 30-34. Michael Nance, luke Godwin and Rob Yerger swept the 35-39 men. Kristin Cattieu won 2nd among the women. Phil Midden and Toby Selix went 1-2 in the 40-44, with Rebecca West taking 2nd among the women.Whitney Keen won the 45-49, while Ryan Fleischer edged out Randy Hrechko for 2nd. In the 50-54 women, Chantal Faure took the win with Marlena Crovatt-Badwell 3rd.  Jay Hammond, Phil Togneri and Alan Humphries claimed the 50-54 men. Alsena Edwards and Carol Wallace went 1-3 in the 55-59 women. Robbie McClendon and Mike Compton fought it out for the top 2 in the 60-64.Mary Howk won the 60-64 women in sub 8 pace, 15 minutes ahead of 2nd. Karen Kramer took 3rd. John Houser was 2nd in the 65-69 men, while Patti Lowden and Brigitte Smith claimed the women’s division. Ron Hagell and Jesse Smarr won the 70+.

Justin Bishop took the overall win in the 5k, ahead of Aaron Trent and Parker Roof. Michelle Ziegler, MC Cox and Ivanka Tolan swept the women’s podium. Joyce Welch won female masters.

5k age groupers: Tyler Robertson won 3rd in the 11-13. Allie Mabry was 3rd in the 14-16. Brittany Robbins and Jessica Weaver took the top 2 15-19 slots. Andrew Bloxham was 2nd in the 20-24. Daniel Patrick was 2nd in the 25-29. Jennifer Lybrand won the 25-29 women even with baby in tow. Laura Holt was 2nd in the 30-34. Drew Williams and Will Brumbach went 2-3 in the 35-39, while Luci Smith placed third among the women. Johnathan Kirkwood was 2nd in the 45-49 men. Shelley Hinson and Tracy Tisdale-Williams went 1-2 in the 45-49 women. Tracy Meyers and Susan Weaver topped the 50-54, with Eliere Tolan winning among the men. Geary McAlister won the 55-59 by 7 minutes. Pete Poore won 2nd in the 60-64, Sandra Manning took 3rd among the women.Albert anderson, Rich Weaver and Ken Lowden swept the 65-69 men. Arnold Floyd won the 70-74 while Henry Holt took the 75+.

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1041617843

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/16LONGRUN.TXT

And on to race number 2…

After hanging around a bit to take some finish line pics and getting some sweet mascot photos with the Cardinal Newman cardinal,  I was off to Dutch Fork.

Like Run with the Saints, the Dutch Fork Be a Fan 5k is also directed by a Columbia Running Club member, Kimberly Taylor. This year’s race not only went to benefit the special needs students at Dutch Fork, but also in memory of Timothy Gibson, a SC DOT worker who tragically lost his life in the October flood.  So, plenty of good reasons to support this race.

Of course, I had shown absolutely zero restraint at Run with the Saints, and I was pretty much toast by the time I headed out to Irmo. Between the warming weather and the fact I didn’t sleep well the night before, (i.e. 4:30 wake up) I was more interested in curling up in a ball and putting in some hardcore nappy time. But hey, let’s run another all-out 5k instead.

I was cursing myself for signing up as a 2 man team with the Code, “Code Blue”, because now if I jogged this thing I was going to let him down. And sure enough, the 30+ minute drive across town was plenty enough to make my trashed legs all tight and gimpy. This was not going to be pretty – though judging from my race pics, it never is.

Kimberly and Frances O’ Toole, who will be taking the race directorship next year, told me the day before that they had about 200 signed up. That’s a pretty good turnout for a 2^nd year race with competition from another one the same morning. Always glad to see our people supporting our Tour de Columbia races.

Surprisingly, quite a few other psychos were double dipping this morning too. John Gasque, Tour director and the godfather of the double dip, was already ready to go by the time I got there. He makes sure no traffic jam or any other unforeseen circumstance will get in the way of his precious TDC points. A man after my own heart.  Adam Feigh, who just ran low 16 and barely got beat by Jonathan Kinsey for 2^nd at RWTS, was also on board. Check out his blog at https://feighathlon.wordpress.com/about.  Rashad Striggles finished one spot behind Adam and was here along with RWTS women’s winner Shawanna White. Ted Hewitt hadn’t run a race in months but decided to knock out two in one morning. Bravo, Ted. 1966 SEC mile champ Rocky Soderberg may be 73 but still double dips with the best of them. At least I know who I’ll be like in 2049.

Joyce Welch, with son Tate, Angel Manuel, Wayne Shuler, Bri Hartley,  Marie Demetriades (Kimberly’s daughter) , Sara Bonner, Colleen “Don’t call me Mrs. Pale Beast” Vowles, Tracy Meyers, Lisa Smarr, Joe Green, Pete Poore, the O’Toole family, the Golbus twins and Jessalyn Smith were some of the familiar faces and names in this one.

Last year’s course was completely on the Dutch Fork High and Middle campus, making for a lot of parking lot twists and turns. Kimberly helped eliminate two of the main loops by doing an out and back on Old Tamah Road, which was nice, particularly because the road is pretty flat.

My goal: just finish this thing, and hopefully not too shamefully.  Hopefully in the ball park of 20 minutes.

The start was a mad dash down a hill and then a big parking lot loop to thin out the herd some. OMG – the legs, even after a warm up, were just total cinder blocks. After the first half mile I started to assess my position.  It was hard to figure out pace since everything felt like death. I was basically in my usual racing-with-the-high-school-girls mode. No, I’m not a perv (well, mostly not)– all the varsity HS girls run about 19-20 minutes for a 5k, so there you are. About three of them could draft in my oceanliner of a wake , so I’m sure they are glad to have the Sasquatch around.  Anyway, one of the Golbuses and Bri were nearby, so I figured I must be 6:20ish pace. Code was up ahead with Angel. Just needed to keep them in sight. Legs were still hating life on the out-and-back on Old Tamah, but it sure was nice to eliminate some of the parking lot loops. Everything was cool until mile 1 came back at like high 6:40’s. Damn these slacker teens! I was hurting but my ego couldn’t take running over 21 and giving Trophy a chance to return his own “Blackjack” nickname to me.

I pushed the pace some as we plunged downhill into the middle school campus. Speaking of slackers, what the hell was up with the Code?? Normally I’d be relishing the fact he was getting reeled in, but he’s ON MY TEAM.  He’s only a few steps ahead when we hit the first of two killer uphill loops. The first one starts me gasping but the second one is long, painful and just pummels my quivering quads into submission.  Rounding the turnaround at the top and I am just hating life. Mile 2 goes off at some point but I don’t even want to know. On the way back down the hill I am flopping all about and still catching up with the Code. Finally I pull alongside him and I can tell he’s in full crybaby mode, talking about his cold or something. I’m not sure what I said to him in my delirium, but he finally grew a pair and started surging ahead.  One more loop and I think its home free down to the stadium. Nope, another fun incline right before the concession stands has me begging for mercy. Finally we hit the track – Code, myself and a couple high schoolers mired in the shame of getting beat by a couple of goofy, pale 40 year olds. I’m gunning it as hard as I can go, but the shredded legs and blown out lungs are fighting back against this brutal punishment. Finally I make the last turn and sprint to the line, a step behind Code but in front of the last kid of our minipack.  The results look like we ran it together on purpose. I swear there was no handholding and smiles. 20:23, 13^th overall, 3^rd in AG. But most importantly, FIRST in the two person team category. Sweet – a surprise trophy hunt!

Taking the win and a 19 Tour de Columbia point, double dip day was Adam Feigh in 16:39. Striggles was just 10 seconds behind, with a faster time than RWTS on a harder course. Go figure. Third was 14 year old Jaden Kingsley in 17:49. In the women’s race, Shawanna White notched her 2^nd win of the morning and another 75 bucks with an 18:48. Not bad for a morning’s work. The Golbus twins finished 2^nd  (Alexa) and 3^rd (Ashley).

Age groupers:  Travis Nichols placed 4^th overall and 1^st in the 25-29. Wayne Shuler and Ted Hewitt took 2^nd and 3^rd in the 45-49. John Gasque was 3^rd in the 55-59. Pete Poore won the 60-64, and Rocky was the champ of the 70-74. Bri Hartley won the 14-16. Sara Bonner took the 30-34 with Jessalyn Smith 3^rd.  Colleen Vowles won the 40-44 after a long injury hiatus. Shelley Hinosn won the 45-49, while Joyce took 3^rd despite pacing son Tate. Tate ran an impressive 26:05 in a super competitive under 10 division led by Storm track team kids. Tracy Meyers won the 50-54 females, while Lisa Smarr did the same in the 55-59.

https://runhard.org/files/results/2016_be_a_fan_results.pdf

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1033312156

To the racing obsessed, what’s better than a race every Saturday morning? TWO RACES – the double dip. This kind of racing is not for the faint of heart, but if you have a dark, twisted, maniacal competitive streak (What, me?) then I highly recommend it.

There’s a whole science to the double dip, much like my primary area of study, the trophy hunt. Double dipping is actually kind of cheating at the trophy hunt, since you don’t have to hedge your bets on one or the other. My double dip hints –  Start times need to be at least an hour apart, and usually (unless you are an advanced level freak such as myself) the first race has to be a 5k. Try to pick up your 2nd race packet ahead of time if you can, and make sure your parking spot for race one makes for an easy getaway.

Pretty easy right? Oh, and some say to back off your effort on the races, especially the first, but that is not humanly possible for me. Once the bib is pinned, its on like Donkey Kong.

Race number one on this double dip was Run with the Saints, a new 5k put on by local elite MC Cox to benefit St Joseph’s School. Having a runner as a race director is key, since you can usually bet it will be well done. Plus, this race is one of the many PR friendly flat Shandon rectangles, so definitely a good one for fast times. It is almost identical to Race for the Place next month, except the course is done in reverse.

I made sure to get here early and position my car in a getaway position headed towards the highway. But really, with races two hours apart, I’d have more than enough time to get to Dutch Fork, even with it being on the other side of town.

Race temps were mid 30’s and damn cold despite the forecasted 60 degree day. This place was absolutely crawling with beasts. I think MC called upon all her running friends and set up a Cold Winter’s Day level of competition for this first time event. Lots of 621 Ninjas, Strictly Running team peeps and even Larry’s A team group. It was looking like I’d be struggling to find the top 20. Adam Feigh, Jonathan Kinsey and Rashad Striggles looked to make for an interesting elite showdown for the overall.  Shawanna and Erin Miller would be clear favorites to fight it out for the women’s crown. I was there only 5 minutes and the 70+ AG was already filled out with Arnold Floyd, Henry Holt, Peter Mugglestone and Rocky Soderberg. Ted Hewitt was making his comeback after a long time away from racing. Luke Godwin, Larry Jourdain, Brad Marlow, John Gasque, Melinda Petruzzi, Linn Hall, Mike Compton, Brittany Robbins (with coach Bishop pacing), Drew Williams and Tracy Tisdale-Williams, Sarah and Eric Allers, John Charlton, Robbie “OG” McLendon, Pete O’Boyle, Erin Suttman and John Bradley were just a few of the familiar faces in this brutally competitive field.

The start was a little chaotic since all the kids from the school were lined up on the front row. At least most of them sprinted out, but when they crashed and burned a quarter mile in, I had to do a little Heisman stiff arm on one kid’s shoulder so he wouldn’t get run over by an Albino bus. I’m no elite by any means, but I’m used to a pretty thin crowd around me. I was a total mid packer at this thing though. I couldn’t believe how many people were just throughly, and completely, kicking my ass. The upside to the huge pack was having plenty of pacers. Tigs went out super fast, and it took me most of a mile to pull even with her. I was waiting for some British curse words thrown my way but she was just grumbling about me smiling at her or something. I actually was feeling pretty good – I had several 40 mile weeks put in, so I’m getting my endurance back, despite virtually nil speedwork (outside of races). First mile in 6:18, so about what I had planned. By the time we hit Queen I was starting to hurt some but it was a psychological boost to know we were at least not headed further away from the finish. I saw Luke up ahead and managed to pull even with him, but then he surged ahead. I hadn’t seen Luke race since last year’s Race for the Place, where he crushed me and went sub 19, so I had no idea what his current fitness was. After the turn towards home on Heyward, I managed to finally pass Luke, though I think he was drafting off me for quite a while.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, can draft off my sizable wake. Heyward is the common street for like 10 shandon races, so I know it like the back of my hand. It’s definitely got some roll to it, and I was starting to die on the inclines. Although there were plenty of people ahead, I had managed to break free from everybody, which is a major motivation killer for me. I need a carrot on a string. Luckily I recognized a carrot up ahead in the form of Drew Williams, who I knew was injured and starting to fade just a touch. Mile 2 went off with my new buzz/alarm Garmin 630 but I was too afraid to look – I knew it had to be slower (actually only 6:21 by check after the race). I really wanted my sub 20’s back after a long injury/comeback cycle dating back to October. I decided to push the chips on the table and go all in. The next mile was basically pure torture. I was trying to maintain my form though my lungs and heart were having an MMA cage match against my chest wall. Every now and then the very small rational voice in my head mentioned I might want to save some for the next race later, but the larger, insane voice said to go even harder. I could tell Drew was hurting by the time we hit Bonham, and I finally caught him there. I think he gave me some words of encouragement but I was too busy fighting back death to answer. Just after the pass I spotted another guy with some gray flecks in his hair, who actually looked around to see what stampeding elephant was heading this way. I saw his face and instantly thought – AGE GROUPER. I ramped up the speed even more and entered some dark areas of the pain cave I hadn’t seen in awhile. I saw J-Lybrand volunteering up ahead and I knew it was the final turn. I blasted around the turn with the clock in the 19:20’s and sprinted like a crazed banshee to hit the line in 19:29.  Did one of my long pavement makeout sessions, but in a happy way. First sub 20 in months and way under what I had hoped. I actually managed a technical first in age group, though newly 40 Striggles obviously beat me (3rd overall), and five other guys over age 45 also took me down. 14th overall, 7th masters. Jeezus H this was a tough field.

Way up in front, Jonathan Kinsey fought off Red Shoe Run 10k champ Adam Feigh by 10 seconds 16:20 to 16:30. Not too shabby. Striggles got third in 17:08. The women’s race was very high quality with 4 women under 19 minutes. Shawanna edged Erin Miller, while Erin Suttman beat Heather Costello for third.  Erin must be training hard, as this was well over a minute faster than her time at MLK. John Charlton and Eric Allers also threw down in an epic battle for male masters, with John taking the win 17:34 to 17:56. Linn Hall had a close race with Sarah Allers to take female masters .

Age group honor roll: Brittany Robbins ran 24:29 to take 2nd in the 15-19, paced by Justin. Ashley Sears and Deirdre Maldonado placed 1st and 3rd in the 30-34. Ryan Sacko won among the men. Drew Williams and Luke Godwin took the top two 35-39 spots, while Heather Costello won among the women. Sure enough the 2nd place in my age group was the guy who turned around – Ryan Krietsch. Great, yet another unknown beast in my age group. Eric Allers won the 45-49 ahead of Bob Daley. Tracy Tisdale-Williams took 3rd in the female division. Larry Jourdain and Brad Marlow were champs of the blazing fast 50-54 men. Lisa King took 2nd among the women. Sarah Allers and Melinda Petruzzi won the 55-59 women, while Geary McAlister, John Bradley (amidst a 20 mile training run) and Tommy Kahaly swept the 55-59 men. Robbie McLendon, Peter O’Boyle and Mike Compton took the 60-64 division at 22 minutes and under. Brigitte Smith won the 65-69 women. Arnold Floyd, Peter Mugglestone and Henry Holt won the 70+, all under 30 minutes.

After an awesome selfie with the Cardinal Newman cardinal mascot, I took off for Dutch Fork…(to be continued)

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1033311832

http://www.strictlyrunning.com/RESULTS/16RUNWITHSAINTS.TXT