Dulles Dash

I was slightly conflicted about the Dulles Dash.

On the one hand, it was a virtually perfect morning for a run, and the event would be on my favorite certified 5K course in Fort Bend County.

On the other hand, the Dulles Vikings were my high school's crosstown rivals. How could I possibly register for a race in support of their athletic department?

Obviously, since I'm writing this post, you know I decided to go for it. But I left home dressed in a maroon T-shirt, silver shorts and a white hat; I was going to insist on running in the colors of my alma mater!

Another week, another small, low-key school fundraiser -- I'd estimate the turnout at less than 150. When I registered, I didn't get a bib number. Instead, they marked a number on my hand. "Just like a trathlete," quipped the race director. Well, aren't we hardcore now?

After warming up, I headed over to the start area to line up. Right before the gun went off, my last thought was, "Oh crap. I forgot the BodyGlide today."

Mile 1: 7:56
I spent a most of this mile trying to keep pace with a long-legged couple that looked like they were out for a nature walk. Some people are just so efficient in their running. They were even jogging backwards at times, laughing, and having relaxed conversation in complete sentences. I might have struck up a conversation if I was wasn't busy trying to cram oxygen down my trachea.

Mile 2: 8:14
The long-legged couple glided away and I found myself next to a kid that I guessed was a sixth grader. Should I feel bad for feeling good when I passed him?

Mile 3: 9:06
Finally leaving the boulevards, I ran under the embracing shadows of the Oyster Creek asphalt trail. I had the creek on my left side, and the woods to my right. Posted signs caution about the possible presence of alligators, but the only creatures that accompanied me here were the squirrels and bunnies at my feet, and the cardinals that fluttered overhead.

5K elapsed time: 26:05 (new 5K personal record)

As I said earlier, this is my favorite local 5K course, used for the local Freedom 5K held on Independence Day. Last year's Freedom 5K was flood-shortened thanks to the six weeks of everyday rain we had last summer. So I have to go back to July 4, 2006 for my last 3.1-mile result here -- 31:13.

It's nice to know that the improvement hasn't stopped yet.

Pope John XXIII Fun Run

Last year's run at this private high school in Katy, Texas featured a slick and muddy course with a devilish headwind in the third mile. This week's weather forecast had threatened rain, but none ever fell. Thus, the ground under us was firm and dry. Above us, the sky was cool and clear with hardly any breeze.

When the starting gun fired, I was behind a group of students. It took me all of ten seconds to realize that trying to hang with them would be futile, possibly fatal. So I fell back and resolved to run my own race. Our run would start on the soccer field and then wind around the banks of Mason Creek before returning to campus.

By the 2-mile marker I was saddled with an oxygen debt that was threatening me with aerobic bankruptcy. Focusing on tailing a pair of Great Legs in the last half mile became the bailout I needed for a memorable finish.

Mile 1: 8:03
Mile 2: 8:50
Mile 3: 9:15
5K elapsed time: 27:00 (new 5K personal record!)

After accepting finish-line congratulations and a bottled water, I doubled back alongside the course. I've never forgotten what it was like to struggle at the end of a fortysomething-minute 5K. The cheering and encouragement really does make a difference. So I joined the volunteer at the 3-mile marker and applauded for the folks coming over the bridge, calling out things like "Looking strong," "Beautiful day to be out here," and "There's a finish line over there, I promise!"

Owing to the small field of runners, my time was good enough for a 3rd place medal in the 30-39 age group. (The number one guy came in 10 minutes earlier!) But as I headed home I thought about how my own health and fitness is worth more than any race hardware. If someone told me in 2005 that I would eventually cut more than 15 minutes off my 5K time, I wouldn't have believed 'em.

So for the beginners that are just starting out, give yourself a real chance to stick with it and eventually enjoy this activity. Although running is something we measure in hours, minutes and seconds, the effort -- and the rewards -- are best measured in weeks, months and years.

And running-wise for me, 2008 is looking like a very good year indeed.

Angie's Half Crazy! Half Marathon

(Note: As of the end of 2008, the race director has yet to make good on recognizing my Clydesdale placing in this race. Perhaps she doesn't believe I'm over 200 pounds, and I should take it as a compliment.)

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A nice side effect of going through a marathon training schedule last winter is that I'm now fit enough to cover 13 miles on just about any random weekend. So after making the decision to register only ten days beforehand, I found myself behind the starting line of my fourth half marathon this morning.

C-r-r-razy!

I know this was a small event (500 participants), but I was stunned to learn that I had been seeded in the second corral of four, when I had predicted a sub-2:30 time during registration. I could have just about reached the starting mats from where I was by simply stumbling forward.

C-r-r-razy!

I don't know whether I was seduced by the flat course ahead or if it just felt like it was the right thing for a B-corral runner to do, but when the horn went off, I went out AGGRESSIVELY. My ForeRunner logged at least two mile splits under nine minutes in the first few miles. I now have some doubts as to the accuracy of the mile markers, but still, I know I went out fast -- too fast.

C-r-r-razy!

But I'm not sure I totally trust my ForeRunner either. It told me I hit the 6.2-mile point at 57 minutes, which would be more than two minutes faster than my 10K race PR from three weeks ago.

C-r-r-razy!

Sure enough, the fast start came back to bite me. By the time I reached the Saturn Lane turn at the NASA campus, I was feeling very out-of-gas, and my mile pace dropped all the way down into the elevens. I started being passed by what would end up being more runners than I could count. The Mile 12 marker was planted in front of a Sonic Jog-In, and it took a lot of willpower (and a lack of cash on my person) for me to pass it up. Just the idea of downing a foot-long coney on a race course...?

C-r-r-razy!

When I re-entered the college campus, I saw the Mile 13 marker, looked around and got confused when I didn't see the finish line nearby. A few minutes later, I finally did cross the timing mats and was greeted with volunteers with our finisher medals and ice-cold-and-wet towels. Then I heard the emcee announce that the course was about half a mile too long.

C-r-r-razy!

Since my Garmin ForeRunner 101 recorded my run at 2:13:51 with an overall average pace of 9:53/mile, a little arithmetic projects my 13.1-mile time as 2:09:28. This would have been a nice four-minute chop off of my five-month-old official half-marathon race PR from San Antonio. So that's not just one, but two PRs that are sadly unofficial.

C-r-r-razy!

During the awards ceremony, my ears perked up when the 3rd-place Clydesdale was announced with a time of 2:16. I didn't hear my name afterwards, however. So I brought it to the attention to the race director -- the "Angie" -- and she told me that she can get another award package for me. Race hardware, for me?

C-r-r-razy!

This was the inaugural running of an event that aims to raise scholarship funds for high-school students involved in cross-country. Worthy cause, no? Overall, I thought the event shows real promise to becoming a mid/late-spring highlight on the Houston-area running calendar. The course absolutely needs to be re-measured (and preferably certified), but it is virtually pancake-flat except for one small (really!) hill. And BBQ at the post-race area was a welcome sight. Beef brisket and pulled pork at 9:30 a.m.?

C-r-r-razy!