Friday, October 31, 2014

From O to Ultra in 30 Days - The First Race in the Middle East


After 2.5 months off, I resumed running but for the first time in the Middle East. An opportunity to run an ultra presented itself so I signed up. Time to start running. The first day I went out for a 40 min run, the minimum allowable time for my normal run. Things went well for the first 15 minutes, then I got a bit tired, then I got downright shuffling. The next few days I was so sore with shin splints (those things beginning runners get) that I had to bike, use the elliptical and treadmill. After a week I worked up a few more decent runs. I went over an hour twice. Overall, 21 days of running leading up to the race.

21 days. And now I had a 50K. 31 miles. In one day.

31 miles, 11 miles more than I ran together in any of the first 3 weeks. I did crack an epic 34 mile week (with a 10 miler) in week 4. But it was go time.

No info came out on the race. My plan was to get up on Halloween, suffer through this race, nap, and take the kids trick or treating. Then, 4 days before the race, I get the packet, and find the race starts at 6, at night! This was a blow to the plan. But dropping the kids off at the Halloween party, I went to the race, collected my number, and milled around. I headed to the start line and, with about 150 others, set off into the night. It was 86 degrees Fahrenheit with 68% humidity.

The course was 10 x 5K loops with little elevation gain. I set off at a reasonable pace with the invited athletes (this was a world 50K trophy race) blasting out. I settled in with Hugh Hunter, a worldwide known ultra runner (who runs most races in a kilt – he has done the Sahara, Paris to London (run Paris marathon, run to London, run London), Badwater, Ironman, Mont Blanc, and 160 or more marathons), chatting the whole way. He started to flag after 3 laps but I really wanted to get through a lot of the run with my mind elsewhere so we stayed together though most of lap 4 before he walked. After dropping the pace and getting done with 5 laps, I was halfway there in about 2:13 but now alone. If I had jumped into a pool and came out, I would not have been dripping as much as I was during this run. When it cools about ½ a degree per hour, hot is hot and mid-80s is hot.

From here, the difficulties started to come in. I was tired. By 28K my quads really hurt. It was that dull hurt that gets only subtlety worse with each step, whether you go fast, slow, or just walk, so might as just go. The course had a decent amount of brick walkway which really made the feet ache and the ankles scream. While the course was closed, there were a few sections of annoyance, like the fat local kids roller blading on the course, or when women in full abaya wander into the course, either oblivious or indifferent to the many barriers crossed and runners coming their way. Another sad moment was when I saw locals throwing large rocks on the course as runners went by. There is just that lack of empathy here that is frustrating. And then when I saw flowers uprooted and tossed on the pavement– so sad to destroy the little plant life put here for our enjoyment. In true Doha fashion, this was cleaned up soon after, though.

Dead legged and struggling, I pushed through the marathon in 3:45 – slower than I ever thought I would run, but yet somehow faster than I should go with no running. From here, the last 2.5 laps put me in the hurt locker. I gritted through it and made the most of my last lap, hanging on with the best I could muster. My time was just less than a minute off last year’s winner, and I could have raced him for it. Hell, even a bit of training could have saved me 10 minutes. I wobbled after crossing the line and headed to medical. My legs were shot – nothing like the sudden shutdown of my previous ultra follies – this was a slow, steady demise of the body as a result of not training very much. I tried to get into an ice bath but it was too cold. Instead I sat and chatted with other lost souls, glad to see the vomit come from someone else for a change.

A woman walks in and asks me to wait 10 min before going to the ceremony. I had no idea what she was talking about. Turns out, there were two races – the invited Championship race and an open version. Despite running about 40 min slower than I would have in top shape, I took 2nd place! I hobbled over to the podium to accept my prize – a miniature trophy of the Torch Hotel and a bouquet of flowers, and was invited back the next day for a ceremony at the hotel. Full press conference, all of the big wigs of athletics in Qatar were there. Photos, cake cutting, speeches. I then found out that not only was there the trophy and open race, there was a Golf Coast Countries (GGC) Championship. Being a resident of Qatar, I then won the GCC 50K Championship! There may be better people out there, but for one day, I am the top ultra runner in Qatar and the Middle East!
Still sweating 1 hour after the finish

GCC Champion!


It was my original resolution to move away from running and focus on other things. But there is something special about running, about pushing yourself to your limit. There is something, after all, life affirming about almost dying. I would prefer, however, to be in a little bit better shape the next time around.
2nd Open Male, 1st GCC, and the fun little Torch Hotel trophy to go with it

Getting the championship trophy from a big shot in Doha

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Insanity


After the final failure in the 100 miler this summer, I needed a change. Running had preoccupied most of my last 4 years and came first and foremost in most plans. However, this year, I am looking for a change. I decided to go for more of a totally body approach. Not yet able to sell my soul to CrossFit, I decided to give Beach Body Insanity another go.

Several years ago I tried to do Insanity. After missing a few days and concluding the first months’ worth of workouts, I abandoned the program. Not willing to let failure be a pattern, I resolved to try it again and finish it. A week after TRT, I started the program.

For those not familiar with it, Insanity is a total body workout built largely on cardiovascular endurance – solely body-weight only (no machines or supplies) – all in video form to do at home. The videos start shorter – 35 or 40 minutes a day, and build to about 1 hour per day in the second month. There is a week of active recovery in between the two months, so the whole program is about 63 days. The workout starts with a fit test and this test is repeated about every 2 weeks to track progress.

On day 1, I completed the fit test. I was so sore that I could barely walk for 4 days. Each day after the fit test I thought I was going to die. I would limp to the basement and begin the warm up, feeling better by the end of the warm up, then descending into torture all over again. By the end of the first week, I had found a rhythm. For most of the first month I was able to increase my productivity, improve my balance and flexibility, and gain shape. By the end of 30 days, I was ready for a change.

The recovery week allowed for a change – though it was the same workout for 6 straight days. Fortunately, I was doing this early into my move to another country so simplicity was welcomed. Going into the 2nd month, life was altered. The workouts in the second month were much more intense. Coupled with high heat, dehydration, and a 4:30am start daily, my performance suffered. Many days I inched through the warm up, took breaks, and essentially half-assed on occasion. I would have loved to have said that I maximized each minute but I just couldn’t. However, I did notice many changes in my body, felt stronger, and even ended up weighing less than my race weight for the ultra (though that could be largely chalked up to no drinking and better portion control of food).

Below is my progress from the first fit test to the last (1 min for each move).
Move
Start (July 28)
Finish (Sept 28)
Improvement
Switch Kicks
124
140
16
Power Jacks
50
80
30
Power Knees
89
115*
26
Power Jumps
41
90
49
Globe Jumps
12
17
17
Suicide Jumps
24
29
5
Push-up Jacks
20
43
23
Low Plank Oblique
68
95
27
*Completed highest reps in a previous session

I wanted to believe that I would have one of those amazing before and after pictures but there isn’t a ton of difference. Already being pretty fit before, I only had gains to make that were less noticeable (like doing 23 more push up jacks in a minute than when I started) rather than cutting inches and pounds.



Overall, I am pleased that I did it and saw it through. I did get a bit bored by the end but Insanity will be something I use from time to time to supplement the work I am doing in other activities. Anyone that has been through it can attest that it is the real deal and that it will change your body and mind.
63 days of pure self-torture culminated in one last day being crippled on the floor


Tuesday, July 22, 2014

TRT 100 - Retirement Race

While any ultramarathon is a daunting endeavor, the 100 miler is a special personal challenge. You cannot escape that it will hurt and you will be out there in the mountains for a day or more. What tacks on specific significance is knowing it might be the last one you ever run.

After more than two years (and potentially up to 5 years) of intense stomach problems due to a “bacterial imbalance” in the digestive system, I have resolved that I will not continue to run ultramarathons if I have this condition. One of two things will happen: Either I will get over this by living in a different environment by digesting different local bacteria and sorting it out, or I will visit a specialist – again – and get it rectified. Unless either of these options provide a solution to the sloshy, frothing, turbulent gut that has plagued me for years, I will no longer subject myself to discomfort and ultimate failure on the trail. The cost is too high. As a father, husband, and career man, my time on the trail is valuable, and when repeatedly it ends in pain, health problems, and failure, it is time to assess the limits of what is worth my time and effort.

Coming off a year of dedication, incredible training, and stellar racing only to have the pinnacle event – Comrades – end in failure, left me unable to be motivated through June and July. Couple that with leaving South Africa, traveling around the US and to foreign countries, living out of suitcases in crowded houses, and trying to get shopped, shipped, and sorted for a move to Qatar, it left little doubt that my “running” was merely just going through the motions. I did manage a weekend of 16/20 milers. The next week I jumped in the Volkslaufe in Frankenmuth and finished 17th overall in a barn-burning 20K. My time of 1:15:59 was not amazing but very solid for no speed. Unfortunately I missed the age-group stein, finishing 4th (when I could have won one in either the 5K or 10K).

Come race week I didn’t change my life – no added rest, no eating healthier, no more hydration than usual, didn’t abstain from beer. I just went about my business and boarded the plane. My suitcase contained, shirts, shorts, shoes, and socks. I left the Band-Aids, body glides, baby powder, sunscreen and the 1000 other items recommended for an ultra at home. This was going to be a Spartan event, just me in the woods. No tricks or gimmicks. Just relentless forward progress or bust. Throw in the fact that I had diarrhea for the 5 days prior to the race (from my typical stomach problem or my travels South of the border, I can't say), and you have a less-than-ideal pre-race plan. So be it.

My pre-race follies and preparation are not all that unusual if you consider why I was coming here in the first place. For years I have avoided the Tahoe Rim Trail (TRT). It is all but uncrewable and pacers cannot run in front of the runner. You are really alone. Perfect for a guy who wanted one last go at the 100 but no pity form family, no sympathy, no car to get into and quit. Just carry on. And do it with someone else. Enter Michael. My tried and true pacer from years back will run his first 100 with me. We will leave the wives at home, hit the line together, and embark into the great adventure of the wilderness. If one drops, he sits for a day waiting for the other as punishment. We have no bail plan.

Michael went and screwed it all up. With a new house and an uneasy job situation, his training flagged, and flagged is an understatement compared to what it had been the last few years. He didn’t do the work and although his repeated intentions to pony up were good, he admitted in May that his race was over before it started. He offered to pace but I was torn. The purpose was to go at this alone. No excuses. Would a person out there assist in finishing or assist in quitting? I didn’t want that. After a few weeks of self-debate, I relented and invited him to join. This takes us to July, 2014.

Any good runner will tell you to never check your bag on the way to a race. I didn’t, but once I landed in Chicago, they told me they were no longer accepting any bags on the plane and I would have to check. Connect to LAX and on to Reno. Sure enough, the bag is missing. Of course. It arrived a day later. Resolved to finish this no matter the walking and struggles, I set off on the morning of July 19th, my 34th birthday, at a conservative effort. I immediately walked up the first hill while everyone else ran. In fact, I walked EVERY hill in the first 35 miles. I was not leaving anything up to chance. If my body was going to fail on me, it wasn’t going to be as a result of going out too hard or not eating/drinking enough. After 7 miles and just above the first aid station (Hobart), we crested a ridge and were graced with about the most beautiful site in the world: Lake Tahoe from the East at dawn. I was so enamored that I frequently slowed to a walk just to look at the view. Snow-capped mountains in the distance gleamed pink in the early morning light, rising high above the massive blue span of the lake (I can't find an image on Google that comes close).

While the first 6 miles were largely uphill, the next 5 were mostly downhill. I attached to a group of 10 or so people and we worked our way down the single track trail. Arriving in Tunnel Creak, all systems were go. My next few miles proved difficult as we rolled downhill quickly over the course of a couple of miles. Finally reaching the basin and lowest point of the course (6,800FT), we climbed up a step grade. Most people elected to slam the downhill only to die on the climb. I opted for a conservative descent with 89 miles to go and climbed well, catching back up to those who left the aid station earlier than myself. Once we hit the Red House, we climbed again before running out a few miles to the final climb: the ascent back up the sandy path to Tunnel Creak. The temps were rising and I drank a 24oz bottle on the way to the Red House and half another on the way out.

Arriving back at 17 miles, I was down about 5 lbs from my pre-race weight. Determined to not let this be a problem, I drank 16 oz and ate on the undulating path to Bull Wheel at the top of the ski mountain. We were now 20 miles in and had 10 miles to the next aid spot. The trail climbed up and around the mountain and then dropped very heavily back to the lake. Much of the last 7 miles of this leg were downhill, mostly with hard switchbacks and large rock jumps for mountain bikers. My legs and body were growing tired of the descent, though the loss in altitude brought more oxygen (and higher temps). Rolling into Diamond Peak aid station (mile 30), I met Michael for the first time. Not feeling 100% but optimistic that my pace had been relatively safe (6 hours for 30 miles) I was looking forward to the next 20 before meeting Michael again. My weight was only down ½ lb from 13 miles previous, a great testament to my efforts to hydrate and eat.

How quickly the tide turns. From the lodge, we immediately started up. The next segment gained more than 1800ft in 2 miles. It was a hellish ski mountain that started steep (everyone walked) and got more intense in the second half. My early pace was conservative as I received beta to not push the hike. 50 min was the average estimate for the climb. I tucked in. Within 10-15 min, I was slaughtered. As the slope steepened, I began to grow weary. I stopped to rest before soldiering on. Soon I was weaving on the climb, losing ground in the sandy path with each step. To stop on the climb meant a sudden dizzy feeling and a leg twinge of crap on its way. After reaching about 2/3 of the climb, I sat on a rock in the shade, hoping my heart rate would return to normal before continuing. My head started spinning and I had to lower myself to the ground to prevent rolling down the mountain and hitting my head if I passed out, which almost happened. Clearly I needed to keep moving. Each false summit yielded a huge climb ahead with runners strewn about the climb, some going up, others hunched over. I could barely move and about 50 people passed me. In the final 100 meters of the climb I was unable to speak. The climb had taken me 68 minutes to travel 2 miles – the hardest 2 miles I have ever encountered outside of mountaineering. I stumbled over the top and inched down the short trail from the top of the ski lift to the aid station. My answer was a mute groan with the volunteer asked my number upon entering.

Offered a seat in the shade, walked over and inadvertently kicked a root or rock. Instantly my right calf muscle locked up and I went stumbling forward. My water bottle flew in the air, pack thudded to the ground, and I lunged for the Tupperware box housing supplies. I screamed and tried to set my leg in a position it would release but I could not get the leg to relax. Nearly in tears I inched it back over the course of a minute and it relented eventually. Exhausted, I stumbled into a chair and lowered my head. A physiotherapist was there and she helped to refuel me. I explained my history and she put me on the cot to tape my leg. Determined that the climb was a low point, I agreed to soldier on. I had been in the aid station 30 min. My pace for the last two miles was 45 min/mile.

Limping down the trail, I remained optimistic. My leg did feel better and I figured an easy 3 miles to Tunnel Creek would reward me. Running was difficult on tired legs and soon the uphills were killing me. Heat would wash over my face and I slowed to a crawl. At 1 mile into the 3 mile leg, I vomited. Running was done. It was the beginning of my issues. The legs cramp because they are not getting the nutrients. The liquids I take in just sit and when trying to add the salts and electrolytes to avoid the cramping, the stomach goes sloshy and vomiting occurs. It is the same every time. Inching along, I vomited again at mile 2 of the leg. Things were hurting and going poorly. I tried to drink and threw up again. People were very helpful, always asking what I needed and offering help. Most I waived on but a few I accepted their tablets and pills. Stumbling into Tunnel Creek, I had covered 35 miles and was in deep, deep trouble. The previous 5 miles (including aid station and the ski mountain) took me 2 hours and 40 minutes, meaning I salvaged 3 miles per hour for the last hour, the only real “downhill” segment of the course so far.

Weaving though other runners and volunteers, I crashed down onto the medical cot. Five minutes later a doctor came by and asked how I was. We discussed my downfall and my history, including the repeated cramping, failures, seizure, and dehydration. He was concerned and started the testing. My pulse was 98 after walking most of the last 3 hours and my blood pressure revealed why: 86/50. This was the lowest I have every tested. Due to not peeing in 6-7 hours, the doctor took blood and ran some tests. My kidney functions were non-existent. I was informed that I would need to eat, drink, and pee before being allowed to leave. Two Dixie cups of Coke/Water (4 oz) were manageable but I couldn’t drink my bottle. An anti-nausea med was administered but I wasn’t nauseous so much as empty. I lay in that tent for an hour and the doctor said I was looking pretty bad. He said he wanted me started on an IV. Of course, this is grounds for disqualification.

I had promised myself I would not quit. I would have to be pulled by aid stations or a doctor and I was. The thought that I couldn’t walk on the entire way and finish the race in the time frame is inconceivable to the normal mind. But once the body has gone this far into the hurt locker, even the most ridiculously slow paces cannot be managed. The body refuses. The mind cannot overcome the failure of its carrier. They wouldn’t pull me at Bull Wheel (not that I wanted to walk down that stupid mountain again) but they did at Tunnel Creek). It is a good thing too as it was 5 more miles to Hobart and from there, an additional 6 to the start (or 10 the long way to 50). I took in a litre of saline solution but really didn’t feel any better. The reassessment showed my pulse at 62 (8000feet) and my BP at 105/71, a significant improvement. I was deemed suitable to live and just had to remain in the aid station for 90 min until a transport could be arranged. Thankful to be alive, I bounced down the road in an SUV for 30 min back to the start. The next few hours and days brought the normal sorness after an ultra. The IV sure helped the head and stomach, but the legs had that familiar tenderized feeling. However, considering it was the slowest 35 miles I have ever run, the question was, why was I so sore? The answer is obvious when looking at each of the failures over the past few years.

Disappointed? Yes, but not with the result. I am devastated there is something wrong with me, something that does not seem to be clearing itself nor responding to medication. This has to change. If this is my retirement from ultra running, so be it. As a Leadville and Western States finisher, I can live with that. But what I cannot accept is that this problem will limit every endeavor from now on. What if this keeps happening earlier and earlier as it has? Soon it will affect my marathon. I want to climb mountains and ride bicycles. Both will require me to go over 5 hours. I cannot afford to let this go unchecked.


Sunday, June 1, 2014

Comrades 2014

or the race that never happened in my book...

The story of my latest 100 miler attempt starts with Comrades. After all, Comrades 2014 was what this year was supposed to be all about. I had trained so hard, sacrificed so much, all in the attempt for the elusive silver medal. My prep and arrival were ideal, but it was not to be. My entry is late to come due to not wanting to relive the tragedy. But in order to prepare for the future, we must study the past.

Roused by the typical start line energy and experiencing lower temps than 2013, everything started according to plan. Fearing too fast of a start, I began splitting each kilometer on my watch to be certain I did not burn out. In the dark of Pietermaritzburg, this proved to be a daunting reminder of how long the race actually is, but I was hitting just under my desired pace, so all was according to plan. Resolute not to let anyone run my race for me, I still managed to hook up with a man from Israel. He, too, was attempting his 4th Comrades and did not yet get silver.
No problems at table 1 as I take my water bottle from a club member.  See Israel in the back ground (blue).


We rolled on, hitting the desired pace. I was determined to walk at prescribed points and did while he preferred to run straight on (perhaps his problem), which caused some chase games for a while. I continued to be on pace although we separated in the run into halfway when I walked up part of Inchanga, catching and passing him at the top when he stopped to pee. From then on, I was alone. My halfway split of 3:37 proved to be a bit faster than I wanted but not too fast, and it allowed me to walk much of the nasty climb out of Durmmond. I passed 50K with no problems, still well on pace. Coming over Botha’s Hill, I felt funny, and pulled up to speak with Lindsey Parry, Comrades Coach and one of my training partners, expressing my fear that it wouldn’t hold up. He assured me it would and sent me on.

Within 2K I was suffering. A small hill left me in pain and feeling heat flashes. I was weaving as I walked. I soldiered on but running was becoming a chore. I went from sailing along at under 5 min/K to barely running a few hundred meters before stopping to walk. The more I did, the less I could run. By the Green Mile – the point on the course with perhaps the most energy from the spectators - I was taking ice massages and walks through the whole thing. My jogs shortened from a few minutes to a few seconds, and the cramping in my legs was incessant. Stumbling through Kloof I hit the pavement and had to be stretched by volunteers for about 10 min. Barely able to stand, I was encouraged to keep moving, though I wanted to bail. For the next kilometer, the course meandered slightly downhill – a feature welcomed by most but for me it was unrunable. I couldn’t even jog without cramping. I stopped with 24K to go. In my mind I knew that at the 23K mark the road dropped for 3K down Field’s Hill which is torture even on a good day. For me, it would be the end.

I hitchhiked a ride to the finish and despite two massages, still looked and felt like death. I was in worse shape after my 39 mile effort than I had been in any of the previous 54/56 mile efforts. Something was seriously wrong with me. It seems as though any running past 35 miles or 4.5 hours does me in. Has it always been this way? No, I could do WSER on tri training. So what has happened? Since the stomach issues of Victoria Falls two and a half years ago, I have been unable to go weeks without stomach pain, liquid fecal matter, or finish a long race (well). Last year’s Comrades was total muscle failure around 60K. I DNF’ed at Burning River 100 at 65 miles (but effectively stopped running around 50). This year the problems hit hard 55K in and that was it. My fatigue and reaction are nearly instantaneous. One expects the body to go through highs and lows in an ultra, but what I am experiencing is not a cycle but a shutdown and it happens much faster than a normal depletion of energy and onset of muscle fatigue should. I am now seeing that many of my struggles in the past 2 years are due to this issue, and question if it doesn’t date all the way back to the onset of the 2nd Leadville 100 I attempted. What I do know is that unless it clears, this is a futile journey.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Boston Marathon 2014


It has been a solid few months. In January, we returned for the annual, "Jack Daniels"/Welkom Meilie Marathon.  A pounding effort on both fronts.  While my race went well for the first half, around 23K I felt a pull, and by 25K my leg (calf) was prominently stinging.  Then we hit the dirt.  For 5K I limped and leaped over washboard dirt road trying to keep pace with Kirsten who decided to speed up and attack here. Once off the dirt, I stopped, walked, and tried to stretch.  When the knot didn't go away, I waved Kirsten on.  But soon I was running again, solo, and managed a solid pace.  It never really got worse.  Kirsten chirped a few people and we finished a minute apart, with my 2:53 flat good for 14th place (2:55 for 7th the year before, thank you very much prize money increase). While taking the mandatory anesthetic of JD, I learned my leg hurt, bad. I did not run for four days.

Since Christmas, I am injury free, not counting the minor post-Welkom setback. No problems there.  My weekly Thursday efforts from January to March posted in at 16+ miles each time.  I logged about 8 marathons in the past 3 months and have kept a relatively decent mileage, for me anyway. Things were on track.  Then Murphy's Law.

My car died, my grandfather died, stress at work, stress at home, stress with the new job requirements and I got sick.  A nasty, punishing head cold and chest infection that kicked my arse.  Then, just as I started to beat that, my nastiest, most painful bout of stomach cramps yet.  I immediately hit the Flagyl, that horrible, death pill, and after 5 days found my stomach abating, only to see my cold linger (what wipes out the bad wipes out the good).  With deep depression on the way, I resolved that my somewhat arbitrary goal of 2:45 at Boston was no more.  It would have taken a perfect day.  While my miles were good, I had been sick, done no speedwork, and who knows what 20 hours of travel and Boston weather would do to the race day effort?  Rather, I resolved to go in, shoot for a PR, and see what happened.

Faced with the option of laying around all day or getting out and being active, I followed up a run through the park with a trip to the delightful Sam Adams brewery. This lively and sarcastic tour gives history to the revolutionary revitalization of craft beer in America. A lunch, nap, and killing time before an evening movie and rest.

Jet lag had me up at 2:30 a.m. where I kill the next few hours till daylight. The waiting is the hardest part.
There is so much hype here it is hard not to get over-excited. The memorial outside of Marathon Sports near the finish line and along the church is reminiscent of visiting ground zero. While only 3 people died in the bombings here, for some reason - maybe because it's supposed to be a fun event - people take this like it's a rally cry for freedom. If there's one patriotic thing you can do aside from being a part of our armed forces, it is to come run the 2014 Boston Marathon on Patriots Day. 

The rest of the story is captured here in an article done in my hometown:


I enjoyed Boston more than any other race I have done.  But now it is time for Comrades.



Taken from baa.org

PEOPLE

  • 36,000 Official Entrants
  • 80,000 People attending the Expo
  • 10,000 Volunteers
  • 1,900 Medical Personnel
  • 3,500 Security Personnel
  • 68 Race Officials
  • 250 Ham Radio Operators
  • 1,500 Boston Police Officers
  • 3,500 Total Uniform Police Officers
  • 450 State Police
  • 600 Members of the National Guard
  • 250 people in the Multi-Agency Coordination Center at MEMA
  • 61 agencies and organizations in the Multi-Agency Coordination Center at MEMA

COURSE

  • 36 Course Clocks
  • 11 Participant Timing Locations
  • 26 Red Cross Stations
  • 24 Hydration Stations
  • 80 Volunteers at each Water Station
  • 8 Elite Athlete Water Stations
  • 640 Elite Fluid Bottles

EQUIPMENT

  • 265 Two-way Radios
  • 66 Frequencies
  • 21 Repeaters
  • 6 Cross Band Repeaters
  • 63,360 Feet of Rope
  • 30,000 Feet of Fencing
  • 65,000 Feet of Electrical Cable
  • 10,000 Trash Bags
  • 50,000 Cable Ties
  • 1,765KW of Electrical Power
  • 1,200KW of Electrical Power for Media
  • 9 Million BTU's Temporary Heat
  • 2,000 Tables
  • 9,000 Barricades
  • 200 x 2 Inch Tape/Rolls of Caution Tape
  • 10 Fork Lifts
  • 25 Scissors Lifts
  • 790 Port-o-Johns at start
  • 202 Port-o-Johns along course 

SUPPLIES

  • 350 Rakes and Shovels
  • 600 Trash Barrels
  • 400 Rolls of Paper Towels
  • 108,000 Safety Pins
  • 75 Shuttle Buses in Hopkinton
  • 730 B.A.A. Official Buses
  • 140 National Anthems and Countries' Flags
  • 39,575 mylar blankets (heatsheets)
  • 25,000 Feet of Ribbon
  • 5 Command Posts
  • 220,000 Sponsor Brochures
  • 36,000 Participants' Tee-Shirts
  • 36,000 Participants' Bags/Packets
  • 36,000 Finishers' Medals
  • 400 packets of Handi-Wipes
  • 1.4 Million Paper Cups
  • 140,000 Sponsors' Samples
  • 35 Golf Carts
  • 50,000 Drywall Screws
  • 600 Sheets of Plywood
  • 1,000 Pairs of Work Gloves
  • 4 electronic finish line cameras

MEDICAL

  • 500 Bags of Ice
  • 800 Cots
  • 1,500 Blankets
  • 500 Tongue Depressors
  • 500 Sick Bags
  • 4000 band aids
  • 175 Ace Bandages
  • 1,500 Gauze Pads
  • 2,000 Adhesive Bandages
  • 250 Rolls of Moleskin
  • 500 Tubes of Petroleum Jelly
  • 400 Towels
  • 900 Intravenous Bags
  • 26 Oxygen Tanks
  • 25 EKG Machines
  • 40 Defibrillators
  • 150 Blood Pressure Cuffs & Stethoscopes
  • 80 Thermometers
  • 10,000 Pairs of Medical Gloves
  • 200 Bottles of Antiseptic Handwash
  • 5000 Emesis Basins
  • 2,000 Tubes of Antibiotic Ointment
  • 30 Ice immersion tubs

COLLATERAL MATERIAL

  • 76,000 Envelopes
  • 36,000 Welcome Brochures
  • 36,000 Adidas Brochures
  • 36,000 Runner Passports
  • 41,000 Confirmation Acceptance Cards
  • 144,000 Safety Pins
  • 33,000 Lanyards
  • 18,000 Credentials
  • 1,500 Vehicle Placards
  • 4,750 Sign, Banners, Flags
  • B.A.A. CHARITY PROGRAM

    • 30 Official B.A.A. Charities
    • 1395 Total BAA Charity Runners
    • Fundraising to exceed $12 million

    ECONOMIC IMPACT

    • Boston Marathon generates an estimated $142 million for the local economy

    VEHICLES

    • 31 Bicycles
    • 31 State Police escort vehicles
    • 12 Boston Police escort vehicles
    • 26 State Police escort motorcycles
    • 11 Transit Police escort motorcycles
    • 10 Quincy Police escort motorcycles
    • 12 State Police Cruisers & security vans
    • 2- BMW sponsor vehicles
    • 2 TV motorcycles
    • 2 TV trucks
    • 110 Course Vehicles
    • 18 Vans
    • 3 B.A.A. motorcycles
    • 1 BAA Motor Scooter
    • 815 Buses
    • 34 Medical Buses
    • 5 Lifeguard Stands
    • 60 Delivery Trucks

    FOOD

    • 11,300 Pounds of Pasta
    • 2,825 Quarts of Tomato Sauce
    • 3,400 Pounds of Fresh Vegetables
    • 100 Pounds of Ground Black Pepper
    • 35,300 Powerbars
    • 34.656 Packets of PowerGel
    • 17,000 Cups of Coffee/Tea
    • 5,250 Gallons of Boiling Water
    • 5,225 Hours of Preparation & Cooking Time
    • 400 Waiters/Waitresses Including Chefs
    • 35,000 Gallons of Poland Spring Water
    • 2,500 Wellesley College students have served pasta to the runners over the years at City Hall
    • 15,000 chocolate Easter bunnies for dessert
    • 97,200 Hershey’s Kisses

    MEDIA

    • Over 300 Outlets Receiving Credentials
    • More than 1800 Media Credentials Issued
    • Over 100 Print Publications Receiving Credentials
    • Over 100 Television Stations Receiving Credentials
    • Over 30 Radio Stations Receiving Credentials
    • 10 News Agencies Receiving Credentials

    AWARDS

    • 107 Awards
    • 27 Hours to pack all the awards for shipment
    • 200 Pounds of glass melted to produce awards
    • 91 Trophies
    • 8 Unique Designs
    • 325 Pounds of Glass
    • 140 Hours to Produce
    • 9 Days to Create Stencil and Etch Awards

    RED CROSS ALONG COURSE

    • 325 medical / admin volunteers
    • 2,000 combined volunteer hours
    • 120 ham radio operators for course medical communications
    • 1,000-2,000 runners, spectators assisted every year along the course
    • 31 bottles Antiseptic hand gel
    • 104 boxes Gloves
    • 52 bottles Sunblock
    • 31 boxes Antibiotic Ointment
    • 5,000 Bandaids
    • 1,500 Gauze Pads
    • 250 Ice Packs
    • 52 Heat Packs
    • 400 pads Moleskin
    • 52 tubes Sports Cream
    • 150 pounds Petroleum Jelly
    • 52 rolls Paper Towels
    • 52 boxes Tissues
    • 52 Trash Bags

Monday, January 6, 2014

No News is Good News, And Some Good News


Budapest, Hungary
Budapest - Danube River

Bratislava, Slovakia

Bratislava Trail
Amazing trail in the hills of Bratislava.
Crystal clear mountain lake, Slovakia



Disturbing Statue #1
Disturbing Statue #2
Prague, Czech Republic
A jog across the Charles Bridge, Prague


Where has the time gone? Last I wrote, two early season marathons were in the bag and everything was looking up. It hasn’t been so simple. Immediately after writing I threw out my back after a run and was unable to compete in my third marathon of the “fall season”. I feared a stress fracture but it turned out to be muscular. Once running again, I started joining my training buddies for the weekly 27k time trial (22k of running before the group 5k). That will put some hair on your chest. While still relatively fresh in the training, I laid down my best time on the run to work, an 8-mile effort over the hills and along the crazy road.

I bounced back for the Tough One, a 20 mile race through the hardest hills my neighborhood has to offer. Constantly climbing or descending, the race is unrelenting. My effort was marked as conservative for the first part, trying to make sure not blow out early. I crossed the half marathon mark in about 1:28, cooking considering the hills. The next 6Km were almost entirely uphill, so I had to give back a decent amount of time. Legs toast, I pushed on in for a 2:13:25, good for 6:40/mile (2:54:48 marathon) over those hills. I was happy with this time, but it left me a bit slow for a couple of weeks.

Then it all went south. A pulled calf muscle left me limping for days, taking rest days periodically to shake it. Bronchitis set in, limiting my running. And the job hunt came to a head leaving me exhausted, stressed and lost. My running suffered for a week. But I got a job and flew to Europe where I embarked on a 1-hour per day plan to maximize my fitness while on vacation. Last year I managed a measly 30 minutes on a treadmill in Egypt. But this year I have decided to double that, and with most of it in some really amazing locations, it hasn’t been hard (just cold). My goal this year is to do more running than last year – not in marathons or long runs, per se, but to be more consistent and strong during the week. I will skip the weekend single and occasional double marathons in place of a 20 miler and a 15 miler, as long as those runs are strong and allow me the recovery to go out and put in about 17 miles on Thursdays and another 10 on Tuesdays. It is here where I hope to improve my overall fitness. I am sure I will still jump in the occasional 42KM effort.

Last year from November to December I ran 245.26 miles which is 40.9 miles per week. This year during the same period I have put in 329.35 miles or 54.9 miles per week. At 14 mpw more and nearly 90 miles more under me, I am on my way to my goal of a stronger me.

This year I am running the Boston Marathon. I couldn’t resist going back to Boston after the attacks last year and I am excited to be a part of one of the world’s greatest races again. I originally thought I would go there to race but now I want to stay focused on Comrades training. I will still put in a very solid effort and since my PR is not strong, I could get it by ultra training anyway. It will just depend on the travel and weather. More on this later. Comrades, of course, will be the defining effort. I MUST get silver this year or I may miss out on my chance to own one as we are leaving South Africa in June.

To cap it off, I won a lottery spot for Tahoe Rim Trail 100 miler in July. Michael and I are in! More on this later. Have some work to do first.