Xiao Wang
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Ironman Texas Race Report

5/20/2014

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I did it! I finished my first Ironman triathlon last weekend, I got a ticket to Kona, and I'm still alive. That's pretty much as good of an outcome as I could have ever hoped for, and wow, am I truly thankful and blessed. 9:37:10, 4th in my age group, 66th overall.

Along the way training for this, a very peculiar thing happened. I innocuously posted a set of questions to the triathlon community at Slowtwitch.com, and well... click here to read all the details. So this weekend I wasn't aiming just to finish, I wasn't aiming just to do my best, I was also aiming to not embarrass myself in front of the internets. So on that note, let's start with a list of first-timer IM mistakes Xiao made:
  • Spend 5+ hours on Friday outside under the sun at the expo, working out, trying to figure out the transition area out
  • Not putting any identifying markers (tape/ribbons) on transition bags
  • Never testing out how to use a crack pipe in advance
  • Not having any idea how to use a wetsuit stripper
  • Thinking it'd be a more efficient idea to pour 10 additional gels into nutrition bottle to increase total amount of calories on the bike without ever trying it out in practice
  • Skipping the garmin for the run
  • Skipping the sunscreen people
  • Wearing nearly new (2 runs prior) shoes the run
Yay. Now that we all know how bright I am - let's see how they contributed to an awesome day at the Woodlands!


Pre-race (Theme song: "She's so cold" - Rolling Stones)
  • I packed zero warm clothes out to Texas. I mean, come on, I'm flying from the perpetual polar vortex known as Boston out to balmy Houston! False. It was freezing. I was sad.
  • Arrived in Houston on Tuesday, handled a bunch of family obligations, and got into the Woodlands Thursday night
  • Skipped the pre-race swim but did attend my first pre-race banquet, which was quite an inspirational experience. Eight people lost over 70 pounds training for IMTX! How amazing is that!
  • Spent most of the day before the race outside like an idiot.
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My first mass swim - what were the two people doing in the back?
Swim (Theme song: "Bodies" - Drowning Pool): 1:11:25
  • I feel like wearing wetsuits is an excuse for people who don't swim well (like myself) to get out our pent-up physical aggression by beating on each other. This situation wasn't helped by the complete lack of visibility in the water and my natural tendency to drift left when I'm only breathing on my right. I am very sorry to the guy who I kept smacking in the leg... just think of it as a gentle massage.
  • The swim course was very straight forward. Go out, make a U-turn, come back, take a right into a narrow canal. Only the canal feels like it never ends and the water progressively tastes worse. Wait, you weren't supposed to hydrate on the swim?
  • I have never heard crowd support on a swim before, which was actually really nice. Unfortunately I was focused the whole time on not having my hamstring or hip flexor cramp from kicking people. I didn't know there was a stroke called "grab the person's leg in front of you and pull yourself forward with an iron grip"
  • Got pulled out of the water in 1:11, which was right on target... for a non-wetsuit swim. Oh well. I'm alive. Onwards!
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I'm in the back still cursing myself for picking up the wrong T1 bag
T1 (Theme song: "Oh Shit" - The Pharcyde): 5:11
  • First time I've seen a bunch of women offering to take off my clothes since Thailand. Was too confused by what was going on to say yes, so ran straight to my transition bag and began taking off my wetsuit.
  • PSA to other Ironman newbies... 3 mistakes here: (1) wetsuit strippers are faster than you, just lie down and assume the position. (2) Trying to take off your wetsuit in the corridor where everyone else is running to grab their bags gets you yelled at. (3) Most importantly, grab the right bag! I ended up grabbing the bag next to mine because we had similar helmets and didn't find my mistake until I made it up to the changing tent. After some choice expletives, I ran back upstream to return this stranger's bag, grab the right one, and return to the changing tent. To the poor girl I ran straight into on my frantic scramble back - I'm so very sorry.
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Bike (Theme song: "Waiting" - Green Day): 5:01:05
  • I digested both the advice everyone gave about being conservative on the bike (good idea!) and the mouthfuls of lake water (bad idea!). But the general theme on my bike ride was to take it easy the first 30 miles, grit out while taking it easy the next 50, and let 'er rip the last 20. The entire ride I was repeating "get to 80" over and over again in my head.
  • And so, the first 30 miles felt fantastic. Was a bit under 23mph at 165-170W and legs felt so fresh and free. I was taking in calories and slingshotting past rider after rider. I have often remarked that the bike leg is the only one that feels good during a triathlon. I'm floundering in the water and my legs feel like bricks on the run. The road was smooth, the route scenic, I was in flow...
  • And then the middle part hit. Chip seal, rolling hills, baking sun, headwind. I decided to try out this single "nutrition bottle" concept (take the on-course fluids and put into my between the aerobars bottle cage, and have my liquid sludge bottle on the frame). However, I failed to account for what this sludge would taste like after baking in the sun. It was terrible. I think I got through 1/3-1/2 of the bottle before I just couldn't do it anymore. At that point, I realized I needed to just shove Perform (the on-course gatorade) down my throat. But I'm not really good at opening those bottles yet with my teeth and tended to spill a bunch on my bike and headset, which made it a very sticky and uncomfortable ride. Upped my power to 180-190W, but with a slower speed.
  • And then, finally, at last, mile 80 hit. The road became smooth. The headwind died down a bit. And I started to see the speedometer tick up. Apparently my wattage wasn't higher (~180W) but I felt like I was flying! Unfortunately since I only had 2 long outdoor rides all winter, my man parts also started complaining about this point. Luckily I have no plans to make babies anytime soon. Mind over matter, mind over matter.
  • Some miscellaneous thoughts:
    • I really didn't do the nutrition right. I had a stomach ache the whole ride from drinking too much lake water and didn't eat nearly as many calories as I was supposed to.
    • But I did manage to master relieving myself on the bike! I enjoyed it so much I did it five times... which in retrospect probably meant I drank too many fluids and flushed out my electrolytes. The only rule I had was that I couldn't take a leak right after passing a girl (that's just improper!)
    • Strava details here: http://www.strava.com/activities/143086258

T2 (Theme song: "Let's Go" - Calvin Harris): 3:03
  • Wasn't sure if I should take my feet out of my shoes before dismounting, so left them on... not the best move. 
  • Didn't prepare for the dismount line so had to slam on the brakes and almost fell. Real graceful, that one.
  • Started running with bike shoes on, realized that was silly, so took them off and ran with them in my hands into the tent. Checked to make sure I grabbed the right bag a few times.
  • Decided against the Garmin 305 because I didn't want to deal with swapping watches, stuffed some Nuun and gels into my tri shorts, and off I went!
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Run (Theme song: "Like a Stone" - Audioslave): 3:16:26

  • When I do triathlons, I think of the race in three phases (original, I know). Time in the water is like survival (I made it!), the bike is about holding back (don't overcook!), and the run is finally when I mentally "clock in" to work. Here is where I'm supposed to shine.
  • Unfortunately, it didn't quite turn out that way. I was planning to run the first four miles conservatively, loosen up the legs through the next lap and a half (the run course was three eight-mile loops), and see what I have to give on the last lap. I began the run around 6:20 so to hit 9:30 I would have to run a 3:10. I figure I'd aim for a 1:37 first half marathon, which was around a 7:10/mile pace.
  • My first mile was a 6:30. Whoops. Second was 6:40. Double whoops. Finally stabilized around 7/7:05 pace by mile three but probably some of the damage was already done.
  • I've traditionally had cramping problems with my calves, but throughout the run I was fighting off quad (primarily VMO), hamstring, and tibialis anterior cramps. The first one to bring me to standstill happened around mile 7. Literally I stood there, cursing life, unable to move, while a truly generous volunteer massaged the knot out. Lady in orange, you were an angel.
  • Given the real sketchiness going on with my legs, I decided that a quick pit stop to empty the GI system might not be a bad idea. Surprisingly that was the only one of the day. Small victories!
  • Before the race, I had told my wife, parents, and a few friends that came down for the race that I needed to get 3rd in my age group and for them to tell me on the run both what place I am and how far behind 3rd I am. I got my first update around mile 8, when I was told that I was in 4th place and around 10 minutes down. So you're telling me there's a chance...
  • Unfortunately, during the second lap, no one told me any information. I took that to mean that the gap was growing, I had no shot, and they are all just trying to be nice. In reality, the tracker wasn't updating and they didn't see the 3rd place runner. In my mind though, the game was over.
  • But, since I was cramping up and walking aid stations, I figure you never know what could happen - everyone in front of me could be dealing with the same demons. So I continued my plan of running around 7:10/mile pace but with a slowdown at each aid station and 2-3 walking breaks per lap to get my muscles under control.
  • Lap 3 felt terrible. There is no other way to describe it. The weather's hotter, the course super crowded, you've read all the witty signs already, you just want to be done and crawl home. Around mile 20 I was told by a friend that if I were to keep my pace and 3rd place were to keep his place, I would finish 2 minutes behind him. At that point, I decided that either I would make it or else I would crumble in a spastic heap - I have come too far to not give it a shot.
  • However, my body had other ideas. Every time I tried to speed up, some muscle would tighten up, reducing me to a walk again. Throughout this dark, dark place I was in, I just kept reminding myself that (1) it was going to end soon, no matter what, and (2) I don't want to have any regrets after this.
  • At the out-and-back around mile 25 I finally saw 3rd place on his way to the finish. Looking at my watch, he was around 90 seconds ahead of me. At that point, I realized only the most absurd gamble would work. Gritting my teeth, I literally told my legs that I needed them to cooperate for 7 minutes and then I'll let them cramp all they want afterwards. People around me gave me weird looks as I was yelling at myself. Ignoring them, I began a steady acceleration to what felt like a full sprint with 400m left. I made the turnoff to the finishing chute and saw the 3rd place in my age group in front of me by around 50 yards and sadly just not enough real estate left.
  • I crossed the finish line in the most emotional state I have ever been in. 10 months of effort. All of those early mornings on the trainer and late nights in the pool. All the friends I blew off, all the time I didn't spend with my new wife, all for being 10 seconds too late. I had declared to everyone that this would be my "one shot" to qualify for Kona and I had always dreamed it would miraculously work out, and not end 10 seconds in front of my face.
  • As I was shedding tears (I'm not too man to admit it) in an embrace with my wife and wanting to just chuck my water bottle at something, anything, Aaron (the 3rd place finisher before me) walked over and told me that he already had a Kona spot from IMAZ and wouldn't be taking a slot here.
  • WHAT!?
  • I may have just raised both of my arms into the sky and yelled "We're going to Hawaii!" Hopefully no one caught that on video. In the span of less than a minute, I went from an absolute pit of despair to a level of unprecedented elation.
  • This is why we do this. For those moments of pure, absolute joy.
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My wonderful support crew
More to come, including nutrition, gear, pacing, etc.
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Donohue's Turkey Trot Race Report

12/6/2012

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Sorry, I forgot it was a kid's race
This has been a pretty tough fall for me. I ended up leaving my job, moving, getting derailed by hurricane Sandy, etc, etc. All of those excuses are merely to cover for my lack of training and fitness. I figured a large "Turkey Trot" 5K would be the least likely place to embarrass myself, so I chose this past week as my first Team New Skin race of the year.

While I was prepared for the three miles of intense pain, I was not ready to dodge all of the small children that sprinted out in front right off the bat (see picture). Within a half mile, though, the overeager kids with surprisingly sharp elbows at a very unfortunate height have all started sucking wind and falling back.

The race began to string out pretty quickly and a small pack of around 6-8 settled in for the next mile or so. As usual at these shorter races, it is pretty easy to tell who are likely to be the front-runners: current college runners sporting their cross country uniforms at home for Thanksgiving, people who are coordinated (like me), and slightly older gentlemen sporting a running club jersey and very short shorts or half-tights (as an aside, runners tend to be made fun of enough for our body shapes, there is no need to accentuate that by men wearing short spandex showing everything off to the world. Come on people, it's 8am and I haven't even had coffee yet).

Over mile 2 I slowly moved up through the field until I was in 3rd place. The guy in first place started ticking off 5:15 miles so there was no way I could catch him. The one in second, though, really bothered me. Bothered me in the sense that I became really disappointed in my barrel-shaped winter body and wished that I could return to even a shadow of my previous form. He even started turning his head around to see how much room he had, which is usually a sign for me to then close the gap. But as hard as I tried, the distance stayed the same.

Not to prolong a sad tale, but I never managed to catch up to second place and had to settle for a time that just dipped under 18 minutes, which might be the worst 5K I have run in a number of years. The good news is, there is nowhere to go but up from here! Here's to optimism! And training!


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Comparing running to a drug habit

5/4/2012

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Not relevant but one of the greatest sketches of all time
Recent research around  endocannabinoids (see the key Latin root in there) being released while running notwithstanding, I have deduced that running is pretty much a long-term drug habit. Let me explain. 

The gateway drug, if you will, is about how far you can go (being able to finish 1 mile, 5K, 10K, half marathon, marathon). I vividly remember the first time I ran 10 miles in a row. I was really nervous, there was some chafing involved, it was over far too quickly…

But just like trying to get high, eventually being able to say you finished a certain distance is no longer enough; you want to get faster. The next level up is hitting time goals, especially nice, round ones. 20 minutes for a 5K, 1:30 for a half marathon, qualifying for the Boston Marathon. Unfortunately, that steep improvement curve everyone goes through for a few years eventually tapers off. You start to find yourself frequently stuck between round numbers, not improving very quickly, and searching for where that next big hit will come from. For many, this is when they turn to placement in races. However, unlike a distance or a time, placement becomes as much about your competition as it is about yourself.

This past January, 85 men and 150 women participated in the US Olympic Marathon trials. They have a level of talent and dedication that most of us will never come close to. No matter how hard I train, I will never come close to running a 2:22 marathon. However, we (I’m using plural to pretend like lots of other people also share my viewpoint) are also people who don't believe in failing at anything else in life. So now, how can we achieve greatness despite inherent genetic shortcomings?

Race directors have managed to solve this problem through the introduction of divisions. Apparently, if you sub-divide a race enough, everyone can take home some hardware. 10 year age groups became five year age groups. One award per division expanded to three to five. Awards for old people (Masters)! Large people (Clydesdales)! Masochists (Boston 2 Big Sur)! I have definitely picked races based on the chance to win some hardware, and I’m sure (hoping?) I’m not alone.

Chuck Engle recently broke the world record by winning his 145th marathon. His PR is 2:31:01, which would have put him 105th place in the 2011 Boston Marathon. He could have kept training, peaking for a couple marathons per year, and reaching high 2:20’s (most likely never qualifying for the Olympic Trials), but he made a choice - he would cherry pick small ones and run them repeatedly. Many angry people came on internet message boards derided him for a cheap record, but in reality, who are we to judge? Outside of the "real" runners who do this for a living, we're just all playing AAA, or AA, or tee-ball anyways. 

And just like in the narcotics world, people have begun mixing all three drugs for maximum effect. 26.2 miles turned into 50K, 50 miles, 100 miles, 200 miles. Not enough? How about obstacle courses, mind puzzles, Saharan sand storms, and icy mountain peaks. No matter what happens, people are always looking to push that boundary a little further, to where they are the first (and last) ones standing.

But to all that, I’ll quote Teddy Roosevelt and say “bully for you!” Who cares if your win came in out of a field of 100 or that you placed in the 33-33.5 age group. Our country is overweight enough these days. If winning a medal will get you that high you need to keep running, then I am all for it.


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Why are Kenyans so good at running?

4/19/2012

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_ Take a look at the pictures above of world-class distance runners. We have tall, lanky Kenyans, short, stocky Ethiopians, and just very large American men. Yes, none of them look like Yokozuna or Dwight Howard, but if anything, they should show that there is more than one body type that can excel at running 4:30 miles, over and over again.

That’s not what an article by Max Fisher in the Atlantic is trying to say. In a widely-circulated article (within running circles) trying to unearth why Kenyans swept the Boston Marathon this past weekend, he essentially sums it up as a genetic advantage by the “bird-like” bodies of the Kalenjin ethnic group. Before you bash me for not reading the article, he does make some good caveats about the myth of them running 6 miles to school, uphill both ways every morning, etc. Alex Hutchinson at Runner’s World puts together a decent rebuttal for the evidence presented by Max here, as did the lovely people at letsrun.com but I won’t bore you with all that reading here. What will I do instead? How about pictures? I like pictures.

I feel like it comes down to a perfect storm of three factors: Genetics, Environment, and Incentives

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See that red star? That is the necessary but not sufficient place to be in order to be in the running (see what I did there?) to become a world-class distance runner. Of course, not everyone can actually reach their full potential.

So if you're wondering when can the white man rise back up again to dominate the distance runner landscape? The famous running coach Renato Canova, summed it up really well: "The dominance of African is due to their talent, but also to the fact white athletes disappeared. And the solution is not to look at Africa too much, but to look at our young generation, creating again interest in running and organising a different type of life."

In case you are wondering, I did make the majority of this post in Powerpoint. I was a world-class consultant, after all.

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Boston Marathon 2012 Race Report - the day I sold my soul

4/18/2012

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A rare non-suffering running picture
And now we have come full-circle. I began this blog a year ago with a recap of my first Boston Marathon, and now I just finished my second. Last year was known for its “once in a lifetime marathon conditions,” with 50 degree weather and 18 mph tailwinds the whole way. This year, not so much. Some wonderfully smart chaps from South Africa called it “The Boston 2012 Meltdown,” and that was probably generous.













For the math-inclined members out there, here are some helpful comparisons between the two years:

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If that last row made no sense to you, it doesn't make any sense to me either, so here’s to deconstructing my race and figuring out when precisely I made a pact with the devil.

Pre-race

This year we managed to make it out to the buses right before the crowds hit, so were able to avoid most of the lines and get to Hopkinton by 7:30am or so. A very nice teacher from Michigan lent us her half of her tarp and so we enjoyed staying dry and in the shade for the next two hours. I ate a peanut butter and nutella bagel, a banana, half a powerbar, a Gatorade Prime (side note: expanding Gatorade from 1 to 3 products has got to be one of the most brilliant ideas ever, even accounting for the fact that Gatorade Recovery tastes like something I would feed to my worst enemy, or Drew), a Nuun tablet, and a gel. Three cheers for processed foods! I got to my corral around 9:50, made some small talk with the dude in the caucasian-fro, and we’re off!

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Here I am at the start, behind said cool fro dude
Start-10K 
Mile splits: 6:08, 6:06, 6:10, 5K@19:06, 6:15, 6:20, 6:05, 10K@19:23

While all of the pre-race email announcements focused on dropping out, going slower, giving up your goals, and generally destroying self-esteem, I had a slightly deranged set of logic in my mind. In perfect conditions, I was hoping to run a 2:42 marathon (6:12 pace). In order to have any hope of getting close on a brutally hot day I had to start off fast, taking advantage of the nice and cool 83 degrees and downhill before it turns into 90 degrees in the sun and uphill in the second half. And if this strategy didn’t work I would just blow up spectacularly and bum a free ride to the finish from some compassionate volunteer. Who says people who go to business school are risk adverse?

Just like last year, the first few miles downhill went by like a blur. At least I stayed above 6-minute pace this time around. Just knocking off miles and having some good, defeatist conversation with people around me.

10K-Half
Mile splits: 6:18, 6:18, 6:13, 15K@19:33, 6:23, 6:21, 6:10, 20K@19:38, Half@1:22

By this point the euphoria has tapered off and you’re left thinking to yourself, it is going to be really warm today, people who have run sub 3 hour marathons are beginning to fade (as are you), you have barely run the equivalent of one lap around Central Park, and you signed up to do this all over again in two weeks. What the hell is wrong with you?

A little before mile 13 there is a half-mile long line of scarily enthusiastic college girls with creatively inappropriate signs daring me to give up on my race and pick up mono instead. Luckily, I was running next to a blind runner at the time who was getting even more attention than I was. And by golly, if he wasn’t going to stop and get assaulted by hundreds of sexually repressed co-eds, then neither was I.

Along this stretch I also began my rhythm of one sip Gatorade, one sip water, throw two cups of water over my body at each water station. Also decided to start taking oranges from random strangers, because, why not? My teeth have been in pain for two straight days. 
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Next time, ladies, next time
Half – Mile 19
Mile splits: 6:22, 6:08, 6:21, 25K@19:28, 6:12, 6:35, 6:32, 30K@20:03

I have never run an evenly split marathon. Somehow, my legs always manage to conspire to cramp up around mile 24 and reduce me to a sweaty pimp walk to the finish. So after hitting the 1:22 half, I figured that if I can pull off my usual collapse, I still have a shot at breaking 2:50, which is about as good as I could hope for.

Vague memories from this section: awesome support from local towns, The Bone! from the show “Bar Rescue”, this other Asian runner dressed in all orange that kept passing me on downhills, grabbing my first Otter Pop from a little kid, which might have saved my life (brain freeze felt heavenly), a run-through car wash!


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Miles 19-21
Mile splits: 6:21, 6:36, 6:43, 35K@20:13

Why only three miles in this section? Because this was the point during the race that separated wheat from chaff, men from boys, Jeremy Lin from the other billion Asian dudes. Although I was looking forward to seeing my support crew post Heartbreak Hill, these splits were not trending well. In fact, if you were to draw a graph, it would probably look like my wheels are starting to come off…


Miles 22-Finish
Mile splits: 6:16, 6:09, 6:03, 6:05, 40K@19:00, 5:54, 1:17

UNTIL THEY DIDN’T! Now here’s the part that I don’t understand at all. I started to run faster, like much, much faster. The miles felt easy. I didn’t even notice the high temperature. In retrospect that probably should have worried me a bit, but hey, I'm still alive and I felt great! Yes, I was that jackass pumping up the crowds coming into Boston, giving high-fives to everyone and wearing a huge shit-eating grin like I somehow stole something and got away with it. You can all punch me in the face the next time you see me, but at that moment I didn’t care. Matthew Kisorio, one of the leaders in race, ran the 5K between 35km to 40km in 19:06. Yes, for four glorious miles I outran this guy:

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Really, I should just retire now. I will never perform this well relative to others again.

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Human car wash - genius!
Overall impressions

Boston has the absolute best crowd support of any race I have ever done. Every town and college came out in full force and it was truly appreciated, but I will still hate all of your sports teams. I still honestly don’t know how I was relatively unaffected by the heat, but I guess if I sold my soul already I might as well take advantage of the opportunity for as long as I can! Big Sur Marathon in 1.5 weeks here I come.

Nutrition summary
15-20 gulps of Gatorade Endurance Formula
7 gels (1 pre-race)
2 Nuun tablets (1 pre-race)
2 glorious Otter Pops
~2 oranges

Nerd summary:
1,191 Calories
3,620mg Sodium
1,015mg Potassium
407g carbs
350mg caffeine

















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Runners vs. Joggers

1/26/2012

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You may be thinking right now, oh wow, Xiao wrote another blog post! Let me go make some popcorn and hot chocolate and sit down to savor the wonderful words of wisdom he wrote on his website. But guess what, the joke's on you as all I am doing is sharing an image I found on the interwebs.


Don't jog in place at stoplights.
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Antelope Valley Thanksgiving Turkey Trot 5K Race Report

11/27/2011

1 Comment

 
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I'm pretty sure if there were a worst Sunday night in the year, the Sunday night after Thanksgiving would be it. You have spent the last four days living a life that was as far from reality as could be. One of the days was spent traveling, one was spent being a fatty, one was spent pepper-spraying other people to save $10 on a video game, and the past two days were really centered around generally being as unproductive as possible. Now Sunday night is staring you in the face and you have to pull yourself out of a four-day bender or food coma (depending on your preferences) and get ready for work the next morning. Yippee-hi-yay.

Luckily, there is an American tradition that provides some solace in a ingesting 4,000 calories in one sitting: the Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot. I have no idea how it started and am too lazy to search the interwebs, but the thought goes that if you spend some time Thanksgiving morning to run a 5K (and burn ~300 calories), you can then justify whatever debauchery you engage in the rest of the day. Lancaster, California, where my fiancee lives, is no different. Sponsored by the local YMCA, this event is as hometown as hometown can get: there were no markings on the course (which resulted in me running much longer than expected), the bibs were two-hole punched index cards, and your time was set by the announcer as you crossed the finish line. But still, at the end of the day, it was actually a lot of fun.

I came into the race with no real expectations. I ran a 60K last weekend, I have a 50K this weekend, and I haven't done any speedwork in months. On top of that, I only traveled with my trail shoes so ended up running in NB MT101s across city streets. However, this is a small-town race, so there is always the hope of something good happening.

As to be expected, there was a mad dash at the start, with dozens of 12-year olds sprinting ahead of me for the first half-mile. Once they became gassed, the lead group became a tall guy who ran in college, two high school xc kids, and myself. The actual runner in the group decided to take off and breeze through a sub 16 min 5K if you take out the fact we all ran somewhere around 3.4 miles. I was still running with the high schoolers around mile three when there's a certain amount of innate pride that kicked in - I just can't let myself be beat by a 17 year old. I felt a little bad about outkicking him in front of his friends, parents, and grandma (I met them all afterwards and they were really nice), but that feeling faded pretty quickly... 

Finished in a very slow 19:20ish, good for 2nd place overall. There was even a local newspaper quote from me but somehow the Antelope Valley Press decided to put all of its articles behind a pay wall (even NYT gives 15 free articles!)
Picked up a pain on the top of my foot, though, which is unfortunate. One week until my last major race of the year!


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Knickerbocker 60K Race Report

11/20/2011

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Remember a few weeks ago when I whined about running a race around Central Park twice? I apparently have a very short memory of pain. Although this trait has served me very well in relationships, it also leads me to situations like yesterday, when I found myself on the 8th of 9 loops around Central Park muttering explicatives every couple of steps.

Let me take a quick step back. I skipped a fall marathon this year to focus on finishing my season with the North Face Endurance Challenge 50K trail race in San Francisco. A week ago, I realized that my longest recent “long run” was somewhere in the neighborhood of 16 miles, which is less than ideal. As with most everything I do, I ended up way overcompensating by signing up for the Knickerbocker 60K (37.3 miles) as a prep run. This is the equivalent to running a 30-mile long run two weeks before a marathon, just like what’s recommend in all of the training plans. Oh, wait, no plans recommend that. Because that would be really, really stupid.

Whoever designed this course must have had limited imagination and knees of steel. The race consists of a quick 1.5 mile out and back followed by nine loops of the 4-mile inner trail in Central Park, all asphalt. Luckily we went clockwise so did not have to run up Cat Hill each loop but that’s about the only positive development. Support consisted of two stations with Gatorade and water stations, with some volunteers handing out bananas and bagels on each lap. Some helpful fans put out some snacks along the side of the road, but I made the mistake of picking up the cup filled with frozen gummy bears. I’m pretty sure I burned through more calories trying to chew them than I gained.

As for the race, much props go out to my friends who ran a few laps with me and kept the boredom to a minimum. Leland (laps 2-6) and Joel (laps 8-9), you guys were unbelievably helpful. There’s not much I can describe about the race, actually. We ran in circles. A lot of circles. With 427! entrants (where do these crazies come from?) you start to lap people pretty quickly and soon lose track of who’s ahead of you and who’s behind. The crowd was surprisingly large for such a long race, with fans holding up such helpful slogans like "Didn't I just see you?" and "Almost there!" I was able to hold a pretty reasonable pace through a marathon (~3:05 with a bathroom break) and then pretty much fell off a cliff.

4-mile lap times:

Lap 1: 28:24
Lap 2: 28:13
Lap 3: 28:13
Lap 4: 27:50
Lap 5: 28:37
Lap 6: 28:37
Lap 7: 30:42
Lap 8: 30:03
Lap 9: 32:35
Lap 10: 32:34

The only real racing happened on the last lap, where myself and the 5th place finisher and I took turns cramping/walking and passing each other. I managed to finish fourth overall in a 4:38:05. If I didn’t manage to injure myself through this experience, I have at least mentally prepped myself for the pain I’ll experience in two weeks. Whoo!


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Artistic pictures of me running with the leaders... before they went fast

This is also the first time I tracked nutrition. The only problem with nutrition is that I honestly have no idea what I need. Hopefully over time I’ll figure out a formula that works. For this race, I had a bottle of liquid cement (6 scoops of Perpetuem in a water bottle), 4 gels, two tabs of Nuun I ate straight, and two cups of Gatorade Endurance Formula every lap.

The total amount I ingested while running is a bit surprising once I summed it up. Total intake (by hour):
Calories: 1,600 (355)
Protein: 21g (4.6)
Caffeine: 275mg (60)
Sodium: 3,850mg (850)
Potassium: 1,345mg (290)

That’s even more sodium than a bowl of Instant Ramen. Scary. I would have also tested positive for caffeine. Although the NCAA legal limit for caffeine is absurdly low, at 15 micrograms per mL. In laymen’s terms, that means anything more than ~6oz of drip coffee would push you above the limit.

Will give more thought to this at a later date. For now, time to be a lazy fatty for a few days. That’s the true reward for punishing your body like this.
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Lukas Verzbicas - is there an "I" in team? Is there a team?

11/15/2011

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A groundbreaking news of seismic proportions occurred last week within the world of prep triathlete and running nerds. I mean this in total seriousness. It would be as if Big Papi signed with the Yankees during free agency, Kobe joining the Celtics, or Neil Patrick Harris to reveal that he’s straight after all. Oh wait… (72%! who would've thought?)

Lukas Verzbicas, the prep running and triathlon phenom (he ran a sub 4 mile in high school and just won the World Junior Triathlon Championships) decided to leave the University of Oregon track/cross country team two week before their regional meet to pursue triathlon full-time at the US National Training Center in Colorado. The interwebs have been buzzing since around how this was a terrible decision and how he left his team down. On the running forums, people were obviously heartbroken. Surprisingly, many were against this decision on the triathlon forums as well.

This got me thinking – well, why? There is a huge backlash against the NCAA right now for exploiting the health of “revenue generating” athletes (football and basketball). They are risking their future to earn enormous amounts of money for a system, all under the guise of “amateurism”. Charles Pierce explains this much better than I can here. Obviously, running cross country has significantly less risk of a life-threatening injury, but the same argument can apply here as well. If you train under a bad system, coach, or conditions, you can do permanent damage to yourself and your ability to run fast down the road and therefore your future earning potential. 

So point one: Lukas is presented an opportunity at age 18 to go “pro,” to earn a living as an athlete instead of earning nothing as a college-sponsored athlete. Keep in mind that he is still going to be attending college in Colorado, just now that he is not competing for a school he can be paid. Wait, that sounds strangely like… I don’t know, a job? Computer scientists, artists, spoken word performers, Lady Gaga can all get paid to do what they’re good at without losing their scholarships. Why do we single out athletes?

Now to point two: People are angry at Lukas for quitting his team before an important Regionals meet that might determine if the team is heading to Nationals. Lukas leaving is clearly going to hurt his team’s chances, but should cross country or track ever be considered a team sport? I don’t think so. Yes, there is a group of young men who like to wear matching ugly green singlets and short shorts who run together every week. Yes, you can wax poetically about the camaraderie, training support, and inspiration from one member to another, but at the end of the day, each person is running by themselves against everyone else in the race. A true team sport requires significant reliance upon the others on your team during competition for your success.

Obviously football, basketball, baseball, hockey, cricket apply. Tour de France style cycling qualifies. Tennis barely eeks in there, but only through doubles play (round robin a plus). Wrestling? No. Golf? Not unless it’s scramble/best ball. Swimming? Nope. Relays don’t count because you’re not directly helping your teammate during the event. The only way cross country qualifies is if it becomes full-contact and you can block out scrawnier runners from passing as a group. Which, by the way, would make the sport far more fun to watch.

My whole point here is that Lukas shouldn’t be faulted for quitting a team that’s not really a team to begin with, and for pursuing his American right to make a living. Now for him to run 80 miles a week and still gain the freshman 15 in two months? You can make fun of him all you want for that.


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Grete's Great Gallup Half Marathon Race Report

11/1/2011

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Standing next to two people who are faster than me
I bet when you saw that I put up a new race report on Tuesday that the race must have occurred over the weekend. But the joke's on you as this race happened over a month ago. Take that, 24-hour news cycle!

Luckily I have the memory of an elephant in addition to the procrastination ability of a college freshman so here goes...

I guess in some way it makes sense. Central Park’s loop is around six miles long. A half marathon is 13.1 miles long. So why don’t we make these lemmings run twice around the park and call it a long-course race!

Only the problem is that I run parts of the loop pretty much every single day, which causes this race to feel like a long, endless slog. Let me explain.

There are three stages of a half-marathon. The first four miles are fun. You feel strong, your adrenaline is still pumping, and there are all of these people around. You will probably go out too fast and pay for it later, but in the moment, you feel unstoppable. Miles 4-8 are what I would call “paying the bills”. You just go through the miles like it’s your job. It shouldn’t hurt yet, but your breathing starts to be labored.

The last 5.2 miles alternate between wanting to drop out, avoiding cramps, and counting 200 paces in your head (which results in approximately half a mile of distraction), over and over again. One of the usual saving graces is that you don’t know what’s coming up ahead. Every little distraction counts.

Back to the race. Now imagine if you are running 13.1 miles on a treadmill but are forced to just stare at the distance counter through the entire time. You can’t put a towel over the numbers and be pleasantly surprised 2 miles later. You can’t put on a TV show. When you run through Central Park hundreds of times you know where every turn happens, how high every hill is, where the horse dropping tend to pile up. During this race, I had no solace in new terrain or visual distractions. It was just the same route I always run, but more painful.



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So the same pattern held this race. I started way too fast, stabilized, and went to a dark place. Mile 8 started the decline, continued with a slow mile on the downhill, and it started getting worse and worse until I somehow pulled it together in the end.  It started with a word from my Harriers teammate suggesting that we catch up to the guy in front of us in the middle of mile 11. Somehow that comment woke up something inside of me (or the caffeinated gel shot finally kicked in) and I managed to speed up significantly in the last two miles, passing an Asian guy from North Brooklyn Runners to be the first Asian across the finish line. Yes, I just went there. Even a water girl noticed and gave me a shout-out about that one.

Finished a little behind my PR, but given the difficulty of the course and my lack of speedwork leading up to the race, I was very satisfied with my performance.

Mile splits:
(5:35, 5:54, 5:47, 5:53, 6:06, 5:46, 5:50, 6:10, 5:56, 6:04, 6:07, 5:38, 6:18)

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