Reflections and Trials and the Highlands Ranch Backcountry Wilderness Half Marathon

I want to remember how miserable I feel at the end of a race.

It's been well over three weeks since the Backcountry Wilderness Half Marathon, a 100% runnable trail race; much more gentle terrain than the Black Hawk race at the end of July, and my time showed that: just over 2 hours. Second best half marathon and my PR was set on an extremely flat course. This wasn't crazy, some 1100' of climbing, certainly nothing to sneeze at.

It was an interesting course. Once outside of the concrete path connecting a park and rec center to the ritzy Highlands Ranch homes built tall and feet from each other's walls to fit in all their excess space, it followed what seemed like road along the edge of pasture: Two parallel tire ruts worn into the wild grasses, pocked with prairie dog holes. The climbs were gentle and the downhills were perfect for making up time. I'd seen it pointed out that the trails were probably made more with mountain bikes in mind than for hiking or running. For 8 miles they went, wide and rolling and smooth, then things switched up. We were treated to a single track: rocky and rooty, just when you're comfortable and maybe feeling a little lackadaisical about picking up your feet. And it started with a good downhill section with no room to pass those who may not have the same confidence. I knew that steady descent meant that we'd have to soon go back up, and that's were it started to get hard. That's what I want to remember.

There's a lot of good in making the best of things. That's not something many people who've known me would expect that I'd be good at, but it something that I've really gotten in the habit of. Even things that would often try my last nerve have become things that I almost enjoy ( like work.) It's running that has precipitated this obnoxious positivity. It's the trials of racing to that finish line, that is where you find the strength. I feel like in the minutes and the hours after crossing that line and I've had a bunch of water and a little food and I've caught my breathe, I so quickly forget how miserable those last miles were. I downplay that conversation those parts of my mind were having while assessing the pain and the weakness and the distance still to go and the fight to determine how much I would give it and how much I would give in. When I'm back home and posting the finished info to Strava and the pictures of my smile and medal to Instagram, even I am already not appreciating what I went through. 

This time I want to make myself remember because I started so strong, but the last 2 miles felt so long, and I know I could have probably given a little more, but what I gave at the time felt like the bottom of the tank. I want to remember how awful the race in Black Hawk was, at the first half, because I was hungover and need to shit during a race that would be tough in the best conditions. I want to remember the time lost in Longmont with less than a mile left when the weaker part of my will won the argument and I slowed to a walk to get my legs back under me, I damn well could have waited five more minutes til I was finished to do that. I want to remember that feeling at the Dizzy Goat of that 9th lap that the gals at the scoring table were surprised I wanted to do, and the pain of getting up that hill, of falling, of grasping at the waistline of my sagging, sweat-soaked shorts as I pushed through to the finish a final time. I look at the photo of my face as I did that. It's tough to remember the feeling, though.

I want to remember looking back so that next time I can remember that I've been there before, I've faced it, I reacted either with perseverance or not and to know that I can do it again, better, stronger. These trials I'm putting myself through by choice, because the reward in the end is so great: confidence and strength and joy -- fucking joy!

It is a privilege to run and a privilege to choose your trials. I've taken it so for granted for so long, but now I recognize it. I'm grateful for it. I want to remember the hard times I choose to face because I've long attempted to avoid hard times in reality, but that's where the measure of yourself is found and forged.

A photo posted by Matthew Ronne (@matthewronne) on Nov 5, 2016 at 6:33pm PDT

Hoka One One Longmont "Trail" Half Marathon - Race Report

Post Dizzy Goat I took some time to relax, but I kind of felt a void not having a next goal on the calendar. I didn't know if I really needed one. I came up short of my 50k goal in Nebraska, but I didn't feel like I was ready to go right back to such time consuming training for that, so I left it alone and decided not to sign up for anything right then. I had a pin in a half marathon in Longmont, I thought I may sign up for if I still felt like running after the Dizzy Goat. I put a pin in an 8mile trail race in Wyoming at the end of August, and was leaning toward making a weekend trip of that next. Then I was fortunate enough to win an Instagram contest for a free entry to an Endurance Race Series event. They boast the "Largest Trail Race Series in Colorado," holding mostly Halfs and 10ks within a couple hours of the Denver area. They put on the aforementioned Longmont race, but another one of their races caught my eye.

The Black Hawk Trail Half Marathon is one of the more challenging races they put on. It's not far outside of the Denver area, in a Golden Gate Canyon State Park near the eponymous gambling town, and I figured if they were going to give me a free race entry, I'd go ahead and pay for another and buy some merchandise from them. So I registered for the Longmont Trail Half Marathon on my dime, and used my free entry for the slightly pricier Black Hawk Trail Half Marathon.

At the time I booked the races, Longmont was only a couple of weeks out. I had backed off the mileage just a little bit from my Dizzy Goat training levels, but was still right around 30 miles a week. The course for Longmont is trail, really, in name only: much of it on concrete bike path, and very little elevation change. I figured this would be a good PR race in my first organized half marathon, even at my current long and slow training levels.

Right about the time I registered for the races, I did start to feel some fatigue, like the months prior had kind of caught up with me, maybe I didn't rest enough after the Dizzy Goat. So last week I took it really easy, not tapering so much, but making sure to schedule my runs to get the mileage I wanted through Thursday and rest Friday and Saturday ahead of the race. That plan seemed to work well, except that Saturday I went stand up paddleboarding for the first time ever, and it was more on knee paddleboarding for much of it, which works your quads more than one might imagine. It's always a surprise to me, for some reason, when I switch up activities to find out that even though I put 25-50 miles on my legs running each week, that if they're worked in a different way they're not in the shape for it. I see why crosstraining is so recommended.The paddleboarding was only an hour. My quads were a little grumpy Sunday morning, but it didn't feel like much to be worried about.

I took off for Longmont a little before 6am. Start time was 7:45, moved ahead last minute because of expected temperatures in the 90s. I had a green juice before leaving and had a protein shake on the drive, something I usually avoid, but I thought I'd experiment with it thinking might help with the fatigue. I drank another green juice between the parking lot and the registration/expo area a half mile away. After checking in, I went back to the parking lot, sunscreened, body glided, ditched my long sleeve shirt, affixed my bib and chip, then went back to wait in line at the restrooms while eating a banana. I got done with the restroom just in time for the call for runners to head to the start. I filled up my bottle and got in the group.

I started out a little hot after I found some room on the double wide trail around the lake at Roger's Grove Park. I kept an eye on my pace on my Garmin and tried to keep things a little slower than I wanted to go for the first lap.

The course quickly joined up with concrete bike path, with gravel to the side if you wanted to avoid concrete. The path left the park alongside the trickling Saint Vrain River, Y'd off to the right around a couple of ponds, out and backed to Y the other direction then back again and back to the starting area, then out to do it over again. Not the way I would have thought to design a race course, but it works, and it doesn't have any conflicts with motor traffic.

My first lap was a little faster than I wanted to go, but I recalled my race in April at the Loveland Classic 10k, where I kept looking at my watch to see I was moving a little faster than planned, but was surprised at how strong I felt, so I thought I'd just keep at it. At least I knew that if I slowed a little bit on the second leg, that I still had given myself a good window to hit my goal.

I actually started to get hungry around 5 miles in. That I did not expect. I suppose I trained too much for a shorter looped course with well stocked aid stations the past few months. This course had two aid stations, one only had Gatorade and water, the other had the Jelly Belly Sport Beans, but I hadn't looked into those beforehand. I did accept the Gatorade for sugar boost. I left two Larabars in my truck like a dope. One of those may have helped enough to overcome the lulls I hit on the second lap.

It kind of got rough between mile 8 and the finish. My arms were tingling. That was a new sensation, obvious that so much blood was being sent to my legs that there wasn't much left for the rest of me. luckily I never felt faint. If I slowed a bit on a corner or a hill, I could feel the tightness in my quads multiplying from my paddling adventure the day before. There were some ups as well, but the downs really cost me, especially at the point with less than a mile to go, and I could see the trail around the lakes going into the finish line and it felt like just too much, and I gave in to the temptation to walk a bit. I got passed by one of the people that, when I had passed her earlier, I was determined to keep behind me (because she and another girl were wearing Western Dairy Association cycling jerseys, and this vegan wanted to beat them, and I thought they were way behind me because one of them was sneaking off in the bushes for a pit stop when I passed them before they had reached the last turn around.) But her passing me gave me the boost I needed to at least talk my legs into giving it the gas for that last little bit and to stay on her heels. I let the pointless, one sided rivalry go easily enough since I'm 35 and only been running a couple years, and they are probably teenagers who haven't smoked for 16 years, and we're that equal. (And guess who the Western Dairy Association girls asked to take their post race photo? The vegan guy! Not that they knew that.)

Anyway, I received a cool finisher's medal with a bottle opener in it, and a cold wet towel at the finish line, that was welcome.

I think if I trained specifically for a flat-fast half marathon for a couple more weeks than I had, with some speed-work and such, I could improve greatly on my time, but as it was I beat my goal of breaking two hours with plenty of cushion at 1:55:22.

Endurance Race Series put on a good event. I'd like some other fuel options at the aid stations, and more veggie options at the post race, but what are you going to do in this weird world of mixing intense physical activity with burgers and hot dogs? Yucatan Guacamole was a sponsor, offering chips and guac, and that's the kind of thing I eat at home after a long run, so thumbs up there. There was also some bananas and cantaloupe, almond butter, bagels provided by ERS.

So now I focus again on real trail running as much as I can for the next week and a half. The Black Hawk race is listed as very technical trail and 2,900 feet of climbing, so it's a very different kind of race from Longmont and even the Dizzy Goat. I'm interested to see how I'll do and to learn what I need going forward.