Marvelous Moebius Monster Mileage Madness

Sorry about the continuance of my alliterational insanity. I’m trying to stop. Really. This post is actually a race report about the 2015 Moebius Green Monster Trail 50K, which takes place at Sunny Lake Park in Aurora, Ohio.

But first, to the tune of A Horse with No Name by America:

On the first part of the journey
I was happy this wasn’t real life
There were plants and roots and rocks and things
There was dirt and hills and stings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with some clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But I tried to stay vertical to the ground

I've been through the trails without getting maimed
It felt good to be not quite so lame
In the trails you can’t remember your name
'Cause there ain't no root for to give you no pain
La, la

After three hours in the Moebius sun
My skin began to turn red
After five hours in the Moebius fun
I was feeling pretty darn dead
And the story I told of a runner this bold
Made me sad to think there was more to tread

You see I've been through the trails without getting maimed
It felt…...

With the thought of meeting up with Brother Dave and his wife Carol, wife Debbie made the journey to Mantua to crew for me. This was a rare occurrence; I often travel to races with friends, but seldom with Debbie.

Prior to the start I enjoyed kibitzing with several friends from MCRR: Ron Ross, Jeannine Nicholson, Ladd Clifford, Larry Orwin, Chris Thomas and Jack and Suzanne Sharpe. Larry was volunteering; the rest of us would be running. We were all startled when people started running right in the middle of our conversation. Race Director Stephen Godale had started the race on time, much to our surprise.

The sudden start. I'm on the left, starting my watch.

Flock of geese over the lake just after the start

And the sun was just starting to rise over the lake

I quickly fell in the second-to-the-lead pack, which included Chris, Kim Good and several others. Chris likes to talk a lot whilst running, and this was fine with the rest of us; it kept us entertained. During that first of five 10K loops, I hardly noticed the scenery, or even the rocks and roots along the way. I was intent on staying with this group and not thinking too much.

End of lap 1

I came in at 1:00:33. Debbie was waiting with a bottle of Tailwind and some Endurolytes. I had told her to look for me every 60 to 75 minutes, so this was going fairly well. So far.

Our pack broke up a bit during the second loop. Now it was mostly me and Chris and only a couple of the others. I began to notice, and remember from last time, all the rocks, ruts and roots. Not that I tripped over any of them. Not yet anyway.

End of lap 2

The second loop ended with a time of 1:00:14. Pretty consistent, eh? Debbie was waiting with a bottle of Tailwind and some Endurolytes.

During the third loop, I was running with only one other guy, and he tripped and fell. When I stopped to help, he said, “At least I got that one out of the way.”

End of lap 3

I caught up with Jeannine. “What are you doing back here with us slugs?” I asked as we ran together for a while. She told me that Ladd had wanted to go faster, and she had let him go. This was a little unusual, especially because I thought she might possibly win today. I guess she was having a not-so-great day.

I, on the other hand, was having a pretty good day. So far, that is. I came in for the end of the third loop with a split of 1:01:01. Steve told me he had me at just over three hours flat. Debbie was waiting with a bottle of Tailwind and some Endurolytes. And now there were only two laps to go. How hard could that be?

I was mostly alone now, although I did encounter another runner on occasion. I even lapped a few friends, including Blondie Hinton and Barry Smoloff. When I least expected it, one of those many roots along the trails reached up and grabbed my foot. Down I went, but luckily not too hard. The dirt and dust clung to my sweaty skin, but I was otherwise none the worse for wear.

End of loop 4

Along with my loss of coordination, I learned that I was also experiencing a loss of speed when I finished this fourth lap with a split of 1:06:50. Debbie was waiting with a bottle of Tailwind and some Endurolytes. Dave and Carol had made it over and were cheering me on with wild abandon.

And now there was only one lap left. I was still not too far off the pace I’d need to run close to the 5:01 time that I turned in here five years ago. I’d come in hoping only to be within an hour of that, and here I was doing much better than expected. But it was getting quite hot, and I knew from experience that this would be a tough final lap.

It was. I had trouble keeping any sort of consistent pace, walking the uphills, the downhills, and even much of the flat areas. I stepped gingerly over all the roots. Except one. Yup, I fell again. And once again, it wasn’t too hard a fall, but the dirt and dust clung to my sweaty skin once more, adding to that which was already there.

Earlier I had been thinking that I might place pretty well. I was pretty sure there weren’t any 60-year olds ahead of me, and maybe not even any 50-year olds. But now a handful of runners passed me on the trails, including Ron. He and I talked a bit, but I was sad to see him go.

The Finish, at last!

My time for this final lap was 1:22:12. What with still getting over injuries and not doing so many long runs, I guess I got what I deserved. Still a time of 5:30 was pretty good. And it was good to have Debbie there to help me out – she even hosed me off after I jumped in the lake.

A jump in the lake felt great!!

And now it’s on to bigger and better things. I think.

Tales of the Kid Part IV: The Sweet Smell of Darkness

It's later than you think.

This thought crowds out all the others as the Kid rounds the corner to face east and sees Orion relatively high in the early morning sky. In fact, Omnipresent Orion is higher than the Kid has seen yet this season, and this tells the Kid that either or both (probably both) of the following two statements are true: a) It's getting later in the season, which is to say, closer to fall, and b) It's later in the morning, and with six miles yet to go, the Kid had better get moving.

And what were the thoughts that got pushed out of the Kid's head, you ask?

The Kid is glad you asked. What do colors smell like? Why can't we hear the scent of a flower? How does the sight of a beach feel? And so on. All this while the song, the Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkle is bouncing around in the Kid's head.

Why the Sounds of Silence, you ask?

This time the Kid is not so happy you asked. That's because the Kid doesn't know. Usually it's something classical, often awesomely symphonic, but every now and then a rock, folk or other tune will come in and occupy space up there. Perhaps if the Kid had some hair, it would block some of these things from getting in. The how or why of what starts playing when is simply beyond the Kid's understanding.

Where did today's run take place, you ask?

The Kid is greatly gratified to discuss this one. He's on his eleven-mile route to the west of his residence. It's a route he hasn't run in over a year, but one he used to do quite often a couple years back, as a Little Kid. Today it brings back good memories, happy thoughts (and sights, smells, sounds, etc.) and half-way decent running.

An Adventuresome Attempt at Alliteration: Tale of Today’s Training Trot

Bearded Bob from Berea: I would like to dedicate this post to my friend BBB, also known as Robert Mayerovitch. Bob has a great gift with the English Language, and this is mostly evident in his use of puns. In fact, he’s the funnest punist that I know. But as his self-anointed nickname implies, he’s also not bad with alliterations.

Gatorade, Grass and Grieg: Since I was up relatively early today, I managed to get out the door by 3:37 AM, bottle of Gatorade in hand. It was pretty dark. The area behind the Brunswick Middle Schools includes the remains of an old cinder track. It’s almost entirely grown over with grass now, and it’s rutted and uneven. For this early part, and virtually all of the rest of my run, I had Grieg’s Piano Concerto bouncing around in my head. It’s fun to be able to do that without earphones. And speaking of piano, BBB is pretty decent at that too. Maybe we can get him to play Grieg for us some day.

Seeking Soft Surface Success: The reason I was running here is that for this long run attempt, I wanted to be on softer surfaces as much as possible.

Dirt+Darkness=Danger: What with the combination of the rutted uneven grass, dirt and cinders, the darkness and even the lighting from the schools that seemed to be constantly in my eyes but not on the ground, I just didn’t like this part of the run. So I moved on.

Beautiful but Beguiling Betelgeuse: With Orion, including my favorite start, Betelgeuse (don't worry - I won't say it a third time), rising in the east, I made my way over to Brunswick Lake and ran a couple miles there. This was better, but the surface was hard. So I moved on to the back of the high school for some…

Tremendous Track Training: Those first ten miles had been mighty slow – something on the order of an hour and fifty-one minutes. Now that I was at the track, it was time to get serious. The rubberized surface here was just what the doctor ordered. Round and round I went, getting faster and faster, at least for a while. I switched directions now and then. It truly does matter whether the GPS watch is on the inside or outside wrist.

Expeditiously Exceeding Expectations: After eleven pretty decent miles at the track, I made my way home. I had planned on 24 miles, and wound up exceeding that by a bit. Only a bit.

Long and Hard

Q: What's long and hard on guys like me?
A: The third grade.

I seem to do okay, running wise, so long as I do not run long or hard. I often get into trouble when I do, however.

As things stand (or sit), my piriformis is almost entirely gone, and my Achilles tendinitis is doing much better. But then...

1) I haven't been racing
2) I haven't been doing any speedwork
3) I haven't been running 20-milers

So I definitely have not been running long or hard.

Having said this, things may change. My mileage has begun to creep back up there, albeit kicking and screaming. And I even made it to the track a couple times in recent weeks. On the long run front, I've done some 17's and 18's recently as well.

I think I may be getting close to a decision on the Fall 50 that I've been considering. That will partially depend on any long run I'm able to do tomorrow and/or next week (which may include the Mobius 50K).

Or not.

Meteors and Me

Orion is rising, and the Pleiades are fairly high in the sky. That’s how I know fall is coming. I am aware of the benefits of calendars, but sometimes I defer to my primitive side. Today’s quest, however, is more meteoric in nature.

It’s 4:25 AM, and although I’ve been awake for hours, I’m only now getting out on the road. No amount of coffee, it seems, does a whole lot at 3:20 AM.

The Perseid Meteor shower is all the rage; everyone’s talking about it. And today was the day: it was pretty dark with only a crescent moon, and the sky was mostly clear. I am looking up.

 

I sneak under the heavy-duty security fence in order to run at the High School track in order to be able to view the sky without tripping or worrying about much else. I do about three miles worth, out of my total of ten, there at the track.

Do I see any meteors, you ask? Nope, not a one. And this has happened before – see my post about Avoiding Meteors, as well as the Postscript. They're never there when you're looking for them. Sneaky, they are.

I Really Mean it This Time

The Medina County Solid Waste District Central Processing Facility, also known as the CPF, is where we have to take all our recyclables. It's a long way from Brunswick - the opposite side of the county. It seems silly to waste the gasoline to drive that far, just to recycle, so I try to space out my trips there, and also combine them with some other reason to go in that direction, such as running.

Today I first went to Buckeye Woods park driving a truckload of papers, plastic, glass and cardboard. We ran down towards Chippewa Lake and back, and then, as it began to get lighter, around Buckeye Woods on the 5-mile BW50K loop. It was a very nice early morning 11-mile run.

After the run I drove further south to the CPF and dumped all the junk.

The Medina County Solid Waste District keeps telling us that they will soon place recycling bins all around the county, such as near schools and city halls. This was to have happened earlier this year. Then by May. Now it's by August. They really mean it this time.

And don't even get me started on how the county has screwed up on the entire idea of recycling.

It was over a year ago that we Brunstuckians passed a tax levy to fix our roads. Heaven knows they need it. What has happened so far, you ask? Not a whole XXXing lot, I answer.

The big project was to be the resurfacing of Ohio Route 303. It's the main drag through town, and I can't go anywhere at all without traveling on it. Most of the money is supposed to come from the state, but some, including presumably, some of the levy funding, from the city.

The resurfacing was to begin early in the summer. Then July. Now August. They really mean it this time.

And now the story gets a little more personal.

I've been trying to get back into ultra mode. Mugrage Park had been fairly successful, but the recovery has been tough stuff.

I'm thinking about a fifty-miler in October, but at the moment, I'm nowhere near where should be for such an endeavor. In order to train for ultras, you have to run a lot of miles. Including long runs. I haven't been very diligent in following this mantra.

Well, I'm going to do a long run soon, maybe tomorrow. I really mean it this time.

And another thing. For the past four or five years, I've been trying to pass off the directorship of the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run. NC24 is my baby, and I love it dearly. But now the child's growing older, and it's time for someone else to take over it's nuturement (I just made that word up).

Heck yes, I've been trying. And I've even had a little bit of success here and there. One time a person came in to share RD duties with me, but then gave it back entirely the next year. Another one took over exclusively for a while, but then, you guessed it, gave it back. A third person said they would take over after this year's race, but now will not. Obviously the root cause of this problem is that I'm always around to take it back.

I was forced to announce that I would leave the race no matter what, and if we don't find a candidate by September 1, we would not hold the event at all in 2016.

I really mean it this time.

The Moving Cave

When it happened, I was out in the park, enjoying the early morning sunshine. I thoroughly enjoy getting my morning exercise in that beautiful part of the world, and it's even better to be able to do so with my friends.

The sunshine was dappled through the canopy of trees. It was warm, and the humidity was high this day, but that never bothers any of us. And we never bother anyone else either; we simply enjoy ourselves and our surroundings.

Well, that part about not bothering anyone isn't entirely true. I suppose I should qualify it by saying that we never bother any of our own kind.

Yes, we do occasionally like to nibble on the various large mammals that come by. Sometimes we even take in a large bite.

But this day, I wasn't intent on biting anything; I was simply flying around and loving it. Too bad I did so above the open pathway. One moment I was flitting about, and the next moment - it happened so quickly! - I was inside a moving cave!

It was immediately dark, and very moist. The scariest part is that the opening closed right after I was sucked inside. How would I ever get out again?

More moisture came in around me. I thought I might drown. But then, just as quickly, something wonderful happened. There were loud convulsions and eruptions, and I suddenly found myself free again! Covered with this wet stuff, but free.

I looked up just in time to realize that that moving cave belonged to a moving mammal. It was still making coughing and gagging noises as it continued to run down the path.

I will have to watch out for this one next time. My revenge will be in the form of a very sweet bite out of the top of that bald head of his.

Tales of the Kid, Part 3: No More Running Left in Me

The Kid is awake at 3:30 AM, a little before his alarm goes off. "Perfect," he thinks, "Now I can get a lake loop in prior to the 5:00 AM lake loop, which, of course, is prior to the usual 5:30 AM Big Nine Mile Loop."

Getting up in the early AM hours at all seemed problematic for the Kid. The previous morning he had gotten up at 1:45 AM in order to pick up his friends, Larry and Chris Orwin at 2:45, and get them to the start of the Burning River 100-Mile race by 3:30 for the 4:00 start. He had then made his way over to the Medina County Road Runners aid station in order to help out for about four hours. He had then managed to squeeze in a run on the towpath with some fellow MCRR volunteers, and had then gone into work for his 10:00 AM to 2:00 PM shift. And then he had gone home and crashed.

But after that, the Kid was just getting ready to drive some of Chris' pacers to various locations, when he received a call from the one called the 'Mountain Goat' to inform him that Chris had unfortunately dropped out. "I have no more running left in me," she'd told him.

No more running left in me, thinks the Kid, is a good way of saying that I just can't do this anymore; I've had enough. Or, in the words of famous runner Forrest Gump, "I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go home now."

Now that the Kid was off the hook, he was able get some additional rest and this in turn enabled him to wake up at an early hour for the second morning in a row.

So the Kid starts running around Hinckley Lake at 4:30 AM. He finds himself moving at a pretty decent clip - about nine-minute pace. The 5:00 AM crowd, Debbie Scheel and Caitlin Oblander, show up, and they begin another lake loop. This one's faster, and it has the Kid huffing and puffing a lot.

At 5:30 AM, the 5:30 crowd, Brian Rosenstock, appears, and the four begin their Big Loop. This doesn't go quite so well for the Kid, and he has a tough time keeping up, but Brian kindly stays with him.

The Kid is getting pretty tuckered out, more so as the run progresses. As he finishes up, Debbie and a few others (the 7:00 AM crowd), are milling around. Debbie asks the Kid if he wants to run another lake loop with her.

"No thanks," says the Kid, "I have no more running left in me."

MCRR BR100 Aid Station                 Photo by Jim Perichitti

P.S. Larry did, remarkably, make it to the finish of the BR100. That's quite an accomplishment. He evidently had just enough running left in him.

The New Dan

I would have liked to call this, The New and Improved Dan. But contrasting the New Dan with the Old Dan, the one who wakes earlier than usual to get extra miles in, there is precious little improvement to speak of.

Those eighteen coming a week after the thirty-five, were evidently a bit too much for me; it was a lousy week of running. I even had to take a day off. Besides the ever-present Achilles Tendonitis pain, I've now got some severe butt pain to go along with it.

It's piriformis syndrome. I've had it before, and this too shall pass.

I Wake, Therefore I Run

I suddenly bolt straight up to a sitting position. "Are you okay?" asks Debbie. "Fine," I answer. But I'm not quite fine; both arms had fallen completely asleep, which immediately awoke the rest of me. Having had this experience in the past, I know that this too, shall pass. It's 2:00 AM.

It does. And I actually get back to sleep, only to be re-awakened just before 3 - this time by a sneeze.

And now I'm up for good. I may as well run.

I had already been planning to run; there was a Hinckley lake loop planned for 5:00 AM, and then the usual 9 a half-hour later. Now I'd be able to start at 4.

This was the Dan of Old. Dan of Old didn't mind getting up even earlier than normal to run. If he awoke earlier than planned, it was an opportunity, not a problem. An opportunity for extra miles, that is. Dan of Old would do this, even if he ran a 35-miler just the previous Sunday.

I manage to run two lake loops before the 5:00 AM group shows up, and we run another all together. Now it's 5:30 AM, and the larger gang arrives, thirsty for our Hinckley Nine.

These nine are unsurprisingly slower and tougher than those first nine around the lake. But luckily, no one else feels like running fast today, and we all stick together.

Eighteen hilly miles. It was a pretty good day of running, and the best part is that I'm done. And that it's only a little after 7:00 AM.

MP6: Split Personality -> The Runner and The Race Director

“The more I run, the more Chris Orwin laps me,” says the Runner, “I’d be way better off to just quit.” He had been closing in on 36 laps at the Mugrage Park 6-Hour Run (MP6), and was moving slower and slower, eventually getting down to ‘ultramarathon shuffle’ pace. Worse yet, Jeannine Nicholson and Ladd Clifford, talking and laughing the entire way, had begun to lap him as well.

36 laps, the equivalent of 50K, was a milestone for many of the MP6 contestants, and it was a major goal for the Runner as well. But he also thought he might even be able to go a little further. Debbie Scheel and Larry Orwin, who had both run brilliantly this day, were wise enough to quit at that point, and were now relaxing near the Mugrage Park shelter. They, along with a couple of the volunteers and other bystanders, were watching everyone else keep on trucking around the 0.876 mile loop.



Fairly early in the run with the Sharpes and Rob.        Photo by John McCarroll

The Race Director (RD) is pretty much out of it at this point. And this is a good thing, since the Runner needed to be in charge now. Oh, the RD did stop to talk to the wonderful volunteers (including Harold Dravenstott, Rob Lisy, Renee Harden and most especially Ron Ross) every couple laps as the Runner came by, but since said volunteers had everything well in hand, he could go back into seclusion. He managed to be able to spend most of the race there in that secret place. Both the Runner and the RD appreciated that.

Things hadn’t been so easy for the RD in the days leading up to MP6. He had originally planned this to be a low-key ‘just show up and run’ event. Debbie had reserved the Mugrage Park shelter all day for the MCRR picnic, and the RD had thought that since the picnic would be in the afternoon, it would be nice to hold a little run there in the morning. To emphasize the small, easy-going nature of his planned event, the RD even began using the tagline, ‘If you think the Buckeye Woods 50K is getting a little too big and well-organized, this is the event for you.’

The RD needed to figure out some way to time a six-hour run, however. Timing such a thing amounts to counting laps and multiplying the total by the lap distance. Will Bertemes offered to pay for the timer. But that would entail finding and hiring someone. Hugh Patton, who’d timed Outrun 24, offered to do it for free. Will then offered to donate the money toward race expenses anyway. The RD determined that hats would be valuable mementos for the participants, and began working with Brian Polen of Vertical Runner to acquire them.

All of this was good stuff. But it did make work for the RD, who found himself reluctantly getting further away from the desired ‘just show up and run’ mentality. Then some problems arose. First there was some trouble just getting the permit. This shouldn’t have been a problem, since MCRR already had the shelter, and the county parks folks had told him the permit was coming. But it took some prompting before it finally did arrive. Then there were the hats. Actually getting hold of Brian and picking them up turned out to be a bit messy, requiring re-arranged schedules and so forth.

The kicker came at 9:30 PM the night before the race when the RD received the notification from Hugh that he wouldn’t be able to make it. The panic lasted an hour or so until he went to sleep, and then resumed with a vengeance as he awoke at 3:00 AM. During the ensuing two hours, he actually came up with an Excel spreadsheet that he thought might be workable: a volunteer would type the bib numbers of the runners as they went by, the lap data points would be time-stamped and counted. Bib numbers? The timer had said he’d bring those as well, not now the RD had resort to bringing a pile of his old used ones from his various races over the years.

None of this was good for the Runner. All the Runner had wanted to do was to run his best for the six hours, hopefully achieving at least 50K. But now he had a multitude of trials and tribulations, all because of the RD’s distinct lack of contingency planning.



But somehow, things did manage to work themselves out. The hat and the permit issues got resolved. And as he arrived at Mugrage, laptop, old bibs and other equipment in hand, relating his woes to Ron, the other volunteers and early-bird runners, the RD realized that this timing issue, too, shall pass. Ron preferred to simply make tick marks on paper to the training required for the spreadsheet, but it wasn’t a problem and that was that.

And the RD found that he didn’t need to worry any longer. Now the Runner could remerge from oblivion and take charge.



About half way through in the nice wooded section. Photo by John McCarroll

Take charge he did… at least for a while. He found himself with the lead pack for about the first ten laps. Talking with Larry, Chris, Debbie, Rob and the rest was fun and entertaining. At one point Debbie and Chris were talking shop, including that they would both like to work in an Endoscopy unit. The Runner suggested that they start a website: Dirtynursetalk.com. Let the record show that the Runner has not tried to determine whether such a site already exists.

Being in charge didn’t really last all that long, but the Runner also enjoyed the company of the other runners as well. He took turns running with Caitlin Oblander, Bob Pokorny, Beth Bugner, Suzanne and Jack Sharpe, and of course Ladd and Jeannine, and probably a bunch more.

By the time he was nearing thirty laps – the marathon distance, the Runner was slowing down quite a bit. Larry was just about done with his 50K, and the Chris lapping thing had begun in earnest. She just never slowed down. And Ladd and Jeannine were remarking that they could walk faster than he could run. Those two were actually running faster as the race went on. Had he been even a little lucid, he couldn’t have agreed more. He slowed even more in the next few laps, hitting the 50K mark about five hours, eighteen minutes into the run. He took a much needed break.

The RD came out for a moment to worry about running out of water. The Runner told him to shut heck up (without using the word, heck), and then went back out to see how much further he could go.

Fairly far, it turns out. The Runner gets some kind of second wind, and runs four more laps at about the same pace as some of the ones in the middle of the race. Along the way he finds himself running at various moments with ebullient as always Angela Demchuck, Roy Heger, Suzanne (again) and Kenny Welch, all of whom are all enjoying their runs way too much.

The Runner realizes that he was enjoying himself too. Mugrage is a pretty little park, and it is a beautiful day. But then all too soon, the six hours are coming to an end. The Runner hoofs it in for the last half-mile to try to keep ahead of Ladd. He wanted to allow for the possibility that he and Ladd were at the same mileage, in which case the question of who crossed the line for their final lap might be relevant.

It isn’t. Ladd had 42 laps, whereas the Runner winds up as the second male with only 40 (which is 25 miles). But both Ladd and the Runner were ‘chicked’ twice: by Chris (49 laps!) and Jeannine (43). The RD, the Runner, and everyone else had a blast.

Here is everyone who was still around as the race ended.                  Photo by Felicia Fago

To the Nines

According to Wikipedia, to the nines means "to perfection", "to the highest degree" or to dress "buoyantly and high class". The phrase is of Scottish origin, and was also used in a Robert Burns poem in 1800. I had always thought that it was only related to dress, but evidently not.

Nine is the new eight. That’s in terms of minutes per mile. The vast right-wing majority of my running miles had, up until only a few years ago, been at near eight minute pace. Nowadays, if I can get down to sub-9 pace, I call it a good run. And there aren’t all that many good runs.

Nine is the new ten. This time, it’s in terms of miles run on my mid-week, medium-long runs. Oh, I can still do ten once in a while, but I often find myself running out of time and having to cut the run short by a mile or so. This is at least partially due to running those miles at such a slow pace.

Nine miles per day was, in fact, my average mileage for the entire year for several of my “good” years. No longer. In this case, Eight is the new nine.

I could go on about how I dress to the nines for some of my runs – especially those that involve other runners – but I’ll spare you.

Milling Around

It's a little before 4:00 AM, and I'm stumbling around the house like usual, except more so. Last night’s large quantity of pizza, wine and beer may be a factor. Outside, there’s a downpour of biblical proportions. A nice, easy, dry twenty-miler on the treadmill seems to be in order.

Last night I’d seen the forecast and cancelled plans to run on the towpath with Christine Orwin and her sister. Despite the prognostication, I had still held out a tiny bit of hope that I would be able to run outside today. My Medina friends, Harold Dravenstott, Debbie Scheel, Michelle Wolff and Will Bertemes, were planning to start at 5:30 AM at Panera. I could join them, or possibly just run by myself from home. The treadmill would be my last resort.

But now with the rain coming down this hard, there was no way I would step outside. I sent a Facebook message to the group: “I’ll be milling around.” And by 4:30, I’m on the thing, gradually increasing the speed whilst changing channels before finding a Rick Steves episode.

Did I ever mention that I hate treadmills? No, I don’t generally like running in rain either, but which is worse? This would be a good test: would I be able to stay on the thing for 20 miles, like I used to? The answers to these questions turn out to be: yes, treadmills and no.

It’s 5:00 AM, and I’m changing channels, looking for anything interesting, when I come across the one that shows the weather radar 24 x 7. It’s still green (meaning light rain) in Medina county, but most of the yellow (heavy rain) has moved on. Maybe I can still join the Medina gang!

I finish my fifth mile. Thank goodness I was able to get even this far. I clean up as fast as I can, and hop in the car to drive down to Medina. It’s still raining, but not so hard. It occurs to me, and this thought is later confirmed by Michelle, that my message about ‘milling around’ could be a little ambiguous. At the time I had only meant that I’d be running on the treadmill instead of joining the group, but it could also be taken to mean that I’ll be there to run with them.

At 5:30 I pull into the Panera parking lot, and Debbie and Michelle are already there. Will and Harold join us shortly, and we’re off.

The light rain is now coming down in buckets once again. The funny thing is, we don’t mind. Running in the rain really isn’t so bad; it’s usually just getting started that’s tough. We’re actually having fun, running through puddles and getting soaked. At some point, you can’t get any wetter.

A couple hours later, I drop the gang off and run out again for a final mile of these fifteen. I was going to get my twenty in today even if it killed me.

But it didn’t. In fact, it was fun.

All About Me

I suggested that our company employee newsletter include an article about how I am the Race Director for the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run. I offered to write the article myself, since I'm capable of doing so.

They liked the idea, but preferred to send one of their own writers, Sharon Joles. She interviewed me, and indicated that the article would be more about me than the race. That wasn't my original intent, but I still think the result is fine:

The North Coast 24-hour endurance run: Yes, you get to stop for a bio break, and other questions ...

6/4/2015

 

 

It’s spring in Cleveland, 80 degrees and muggy. But it’s Cleveland, so wait a few minutes and the weather will change. A common sight around Campus II is people out exercising and enjoying the beautiful natural surroundings, such as the North Chagrin Reservation. On such mornings, long before a standard workday begins, you may see Project Portfolio Analyst Lead Dan Horvath out for a run. In fact, any number of your coworkers may be running on the campus or in the park. There’s a large running community at our company, with skills ranging from beginner to elite-level runners.

The runner
Dan talks about how long he has been running with a twinkle in his eye.

“I’ve been running since the 1970s; about 40 years,” he says. “I belong to the Medina County Road Runners, which is a great running club. I always have someone to run with, and my running friends provide extra motivation.”

Dan runs fifty to sixty miles a week, although right now he’s recovering from an Achilles tendonitis injury and taking it a little easy while he heals. He runs daily, explaining that, addict that he is, it’s difficult not to run, even when injured.

“I've competed in 100 marathons, and 23 ultramarathons including one 100-miler,” he says. “An ultramarathon is anything over 26.2 miles. The 100-miler was on extremely rough terrain. Many of these races take place on trails and you never know what challenge you may find. I was just glad to finish that one.”

Dan explains that ultramarathon distances also include 50-kilometer races, which are 31 miles, and 100-kilometer races, which are 62 miles. For those wishing to go the distance, there’s something for everyone

Race director by default
“In 2008, I was talking with a local elite ultra-marathoner, Connie Gardner, about a recent race where a measurement error cost her the American record for a 24-hour race. She wanted a do-over. I said I wanted to run one as well, and we both exclaimed that we should have one here.”

Thus the idea was born to hold a 24-hour race in Cleveland, sponsored by Dan’s running club. This is what led Dan to becoming not just a runner, but also a race organizer.

“I opened my mouth, raised the idea, and I’ve been the race director for our 24-hour endurance race the last seven years,” he jokes.

A 24-hour endurance race is an ultramarathon race that spans a 24-hour period, and the courses tend to be loops of 1 – 2 miles. The runners try to run as many miles as they can in the 24-hour period. They can leave the course to eat, rest, or take “bio breaks.”

Dan handles the coordination of the event, which is a volunteer-driven effort—everything from the food (one of the favorites is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches) to hiring the park ranger and coordinating the other volunteers who work the 24 hours with him. He cheers the runners on and offers encouragement when their mental focus is waning during the race. He also obtains assistance if a runner needs medical attention. It is a 24-hour endurance race, after all.

They’re going the distance …
“Our race is held at beautiful Edgewater Park, near downtown Cleveland, Ohio,” Dan says. “We use a paved bike trail that is officially measured by USA Track & Field. USA Track & Field is the official governing body for track and field, distance running, and race walkers. The official trail length is 0.90075 mile. We measure the distance each runner travels using RFID trackers on the runners to count the number of laps completed.”

The top three finishers get prize money, and since this event is an official USA Track & Field event, the distances calculated for the winners can earn them a spot on the USA Track & Field National Team. This team represents the United States in the World Championships. The current course records are 158.5 miles (176 laps) for men, and 147.9 miles (164 laps) for women.

Each year, the race draws about 200 hundred runners from all over the US, Canada and Europe. There are runners from age 12 to 87 and everywhere in between. Many run the race every year.

The challenge and sense of achievement is a testament to the mental toughness and physical endurance of the competitors. It is enough to continue to draw the runners to this race.

Don’t quit: There is a bathroom ahead
“Our race is unique in that the runners can leave the race when needed to eat, sleep, or attend to the needs of nature,” Dan explains. “The runners must reenter the track in the same location they left for their miles to be accurate and officially measured.

“With a 24-hour race, some runners need to take a break at some point to sleep. Some lay down to rest and end up sleeping the entire night. It’s a physical and mental battle to return to the race. It makes it easy to quit.”

Sign me up
If you’re dedicated (or crazy?) enough to want to try this race, registration is open for September’s event. You can find more information about the race on Facebook.

Alternatively, if you just want to see what it’s all about, you can head out to Edgewater Park and say hi to Dan, and root on the other runners.

And if by chance you see Dan on the course, be sure to save him a peanut butter and jelly.

Written by Sharon Joles, contributing writer

You Got a Lot a Love

This came from an individual who looked like he could be homeless, but who was nonetheless cheering the runners on during the waning miles of the Detroit Free Press Marathon. I had never heard the phrase used in this context before.

 

The Freep in those years – the late eighties and early nineties - passed through some highly questionable parts of Detroit, and this neighborhood was particularly blighted. There were no other spectators, and even the runners were sparse.  At that instant, it was just that one guy and me. He pointed at me as he said it.  I’m sure I was gritting my teeth, grimacing in my usual way. I remember that I was trying hard to maintain the pace that had felt so easy during the early miles, a couple hours prior.

 

Yet it gave me pause. At that point in my race, perhaps almost anything would have. But I like to think that I found some meaning and inspiration there. I like to think that a lot of love is an entirely appropriate description for what I had been experiencing at that moment.

 

The moment I describe here comes to mind as we all decompress after the Medina Half-Marathon. This is a huge and wonderfully successful event for the small town of Medina, Ohio. The dedication, long, hard work, and attention to detail of Race Director Beth Bugner, her immediate organizational team, and all of the hundreds of volunteers undoubtedly requires a lot of love. A real lot of love.

 

A lot of love is also a fitting description of the work that the Medina County Road Runners Board of Directors puts in. This is particularly true of President Angie Kovacs. As I write this, the Board will soon be deciding on positions for the upcoming year, so we could wind up with a different president. Regardless of her position however, Angie puts in gobs of time to institute the framework to ensure that the club activities and events are the best they can possibly be.

 

These folks do it for the love of running, and for the love of their fellow runners. And I think that’s really it. I like to think that I’ve still got a lot of love too. But it’s also good to know that I’m not alone.

Soft

Get thee to a softer surface, say my trail running friends. And I don't disagree. I used to get about a third of my miles on trails, although much of this was on that trail I call the towpath. At the mention of that name, my trail running friends fall all over themselves to be the first to blurt out (think Crocodile Dundee here), "That's not a trail!"

But it is fairly soft, and that's the point.

Why am I thinking soft these days? It's the same old story: the Achilles Tendinitis pain. The level of pain has waxed and waned over the past two years or so, but it's never gone away. Lately I've learned that running fast, relative as that is, aggravates it more than most efforts.

A month or so ago, I was beginning to feel a little better, and I ran the 20-mile drop. Although it hurt afterwards, the pain was manageable. Then I did a couple 5K's. Reaching speeds approaching 7:30 per mile (did I mention that speed is relative?), I felt like I was running quite fast. At least I was moving. But then, the old AT really let itself be known.

Okay, it was time to back off a little. Then, guess what? I started feeling a little better and running a little better, and I followed that up with another 5K a week ago (the Hyland HY-5, 22:49 or so, no placement in Age Group). Guess what? Pain again. Big Pain again.

Now I'm back to slow running once more. And of course that makes me soft, but this is not the point. In fact, I forget what the point was...

Oh, now I remember: soft surfaces. I ran 10 of today's 16 miles on dirt, cinders and grass on the old, almost non-existent track behind the middle schools. Around and around I went, slow and not too steady. At least it was slightly decent mileage.

And guess what? It hurts.

A Fairy Tale: Better. Worse. Better.

Once upon a time there was a boy named Dan. Dan used to be an okay runner, but then he got old and injured (note that cause and effect are beyond the scope of this fairy tale). The injuries lasted for quite some time, but the Achilles pain (the longest-lasting of Dan's injuries) began to subside, little by little. All this happened a long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away.

Feeling a bit better, Dan began to run a bit faster and farther. He even entered a few little races.

But then the Big Bad Pain returned. This time it was Mr. Pain-in-the-butt Piriformis, along with the other villain Achilles Tendinitis. ,.. and Dan was unhappy.

Over the last couple weeks, Dan worked on his exercises in order to keep those bad people at bay. Maybe it's working. A little.

Dan had a nice run with friends this morning in the Chippewa Lake area. Time to pick things up again.

My Watch Thinks I'm...

In some ways, my Garmin 620 thinks I'm really slow. All it sees are my daily slogs where I either a) run very slowly but manage ten or so miles, or b) run much slower still for only a few miles. Occasionally, it sees me running somewhat longer on weekend days. But now that I've done at least a couple races, it can observe some slightly faster running. 'Slightly' being the key word.

A week ago I ran the Victims' Rights 5K in Medina. This free event is tiny in numbers and takes place during a weekday evening. My time was about as expected: 24:30 or so. That's close to Personal Worst territory, but I wasn't totally unhappy with it. One must take what one can get these days, and I would have been happy with anything at all.

And my watch was happier still. 'New 5K PR!', it exclaimed. Since it and I have only been acquainted since mid-January of this year, I suppose that that's about right; I never have actually run faster than that this year.

If it was happy then, it was positively extatic on Sunday, when I ran the Race for Brunswick Blue Pride 5K in 23:19. 'New 5K PR!', it exclaimed for the second time in four days. And once again I felt it was about right. Nowhere near the race times I managed a year back, but one must, as they say, take what one can get.

So yes, my watch thinks I'm slow. I get it. I am. But in some ways, it thinks I'm actually better than I am. I only wish I knew why. It calculates my VO2 Max on an ongoing basis, and it has me at 56 now. I don't know what that means, but it's the best it's been for the year. Good to see that steady improvement. I think it bases it's race prediction times on VO2 Max, although I'm not sure.

My race prediction times are: 19 minutes for 5K, 38 minute for 10K, 1:24 for a half-marathon and 2:57 for a marathon.

I have a lot to live up to.

The Years Have Been Good to You. It's the Weekends that did You In.

The post subject line says it all. This past weekend I ran over 29 miles. That never used to be such a anything speacial for me, but nowadays, in the words of Vice President Joe Biden, 'it's a big f_____g deal'.

Saturday's run on the Towpath with Larry Orwin certainly brought back fond memories. I hadn't been down to the Station Road Bridge area for many months, and it was truly enjoyable to return to this beautiful area, to run on the old Towpath, and to do so with Larry. We ran to Peninsula and back for a total of 14 miles.

Sunday's run with Debbie S., Michelle, Luis and Rick was also just fine. We did the nine-mile loop followed by a couple 3-milers around the lake as well as some other stuff. I topped all that off with a walk with Debbie, Veronica and Malcolm.

All's Well that Ends Swell

So much of how we feel about how we did for any particular run comes down to how well we finish. When I managed that relatively fast sub-eight minute mile at the fifteen mark of Sunday's run, I felt like I would need to run the next (last) five at that pace as well. Despite my best efforts, I did slow back down to eight-plus pace. But those last miles were still among my best for the day.

Therefore, I felt pretty good about the run as a whole. Had I started that fast, and finished with the relatively slow mile splits of my first two miles, I'd have been very disappointed.

It's all how you look at it.