Michael: Bulldog Tales

Powdery white skies
On a quiet blue morning
Envelop the moon.

Tuesday, August, 28, 2018

One thing about racing a lot is it doesn’t give you much time for either praise or pity, so my summation of Bulldog is going to be brief as I’ve got Pier to Peak to prepare for this Sunday.

I did set an age group record for the 60-69 bracket with a decent time of 2:14:54. I was aiming for a 2:10, so fell short of that. I’m also still stubborn enough and hopefully realistic enough to believe I can be competitive in general and not just as an age grouper. I came in 10th overall out of a field of over 300. I would’ve placed 4th in the 20-29 group; 3rd in the 30-39 group; 5th in the 40-49 bracket, would’ve won the 50-59 group; and would’ve been the 2nd woman. So not bad, all considered.

Had very little physical issues. I did have some of my off and on under the heel pain on the long descent, but that quickly went away on the little bump up single track after leaving the fire road. The Hoka Torrents along with Superfeet green insoles, mostly did the trick, but it will be something I’ll have to be aware of unfortunately as I plan to go into longer races shortly.

I’m not sure what the issue is but I believe it can be managed by diligently stretching, proper training, good equipment, and rest. But I suppose most things are related to being smart about those aspects of conditioning.

With my fourth race in three weeks coming up, I’m also pretty certain I’m going to space my races out a bit more next year. I feel beat. How I raced so much while working full time not that long ago, baffles me. But so does age in general, and all that chanting “age is just a number” crap isn’t going to prevent the clock from ticking and the effects of age from taking it’s toll. So I’ve got to wise up as an aging coach if my aging athlete expects to remain competitive. And he does.

Michael: Remembering to Forget

Conducting silence;
The whir of the hummingbird
The only music.

Monday, August 27, 2018

Sunday, at long last, was Bulldog. I thought it might be my last chance to compete against Ron Paquette and a great opportunity for one of us to set the age group record in the 25K. Ron already owns the record for the 50-59 age group bracket in an astounding 2:02. I had been told a few weeks  earlier by a work colleague that Ron wasn’t planning on competing. That same colleague, days before the race, had asked if I had checked the roster to see who was competing. I hadn’t and wasn’t going to. I wanted to run my own race and not worry about whether Ron had changed his mind or not, or whether some other age group hot shot had signed up.

In my preparations for the race, I reminded myself that, for whatever reason, I always seem to forget at least one thing when it comes to race day no matter how far I prepare in advance or what checklist I follow. Sunday morning I thought I almost forgot to use band-aids for nipple guards; something I only do for longer races. On looking around I only found one band-aid and was actually a bit relieved that that was what I had forgotten. I could live with the risk of a few sore nipples if that meant relief from whatever other things I could’ve forgotten.

But halfway through the drive to the race, I realized that wasn’t the most important item I’d forgotten. In the fridge, back home, was my UltrAspire flask filled with Skratch Lab’s electrolyte mix. I had wanted to go hands free so I opted to use my UltrAspire Revolt pack. I had the pack, but not the flask (Note to self - next time use sticky note on pack to remind that flask is chilling in fridge.).

Fortunately Kimme was there and her level head turned to viable options. No, turning around was too risky and not worth the hassle of having to rush through all the hassles of final race preparations like bib pick up, warming up, going to the bathroom, finding parking…. So option number two was to use a standard Smart 17 ounce bottle that she had in the car. That didn’t have a sport top but in a pinch…

Next she thought that a gas station might have a bottle with a sport top and since we’d pass right by one on our way, why not give it a shot. So right after pulling off the 101 at Los Virgenes we stopped at the gas/7-11 station and found a Smart bottle with a sport top and also another product called “Electrolyt” that would serve as my Skratch Lab substitute.

I was also relieved that I had decided to wear shorts with a few pockets, otherwise I’m not sure how I’d carry my one Hammer gel and packet of Run Gum. It seemed my problems were solved.

One smart thing (Yeah!) I’ve been doing for a while was leaving to races with plenty of time to spare. So upon arriving at the race over an hour early we had a few minutes to walk around before the volunteers would check in 25K runners. That’s when we ran into Fleet Feet’s of Thousand Oak’s tent and I considered purchasing a handheld. And that’s when Jeff Vannini, I’m presuming the manager of the store, approached us and asked if we’d like to try a test vest - the Nathan 4L Vapor Krar. He kindly fit it for us. I gave him my license for security, and I was nicely back to a hands free situation.

The vest fit perfectly and worked great. In fact I had to remind myself in the last half hour of the race that I had my Run gum stashed in it’s front pocket under the small flask I had been drinking out of, or I would’ve had another memory lapse. I just wish I could justify another pack, but I just can’t see how to fit this one into the line up. For one, although I do use collapsible flasks on occasion, I’m not keen on them in most situations. When racing, bottles are easier to fill and when training, bladders have more volume. And I already have a Naked belt when I do want to race or run with collapsible  flasks.

But Jeff was very helpful and also gave me some advice worth thinking about when it comes to my shoe line up for a 100K I want to do next year, so I’m going to get those shoes from Fleet Street if I can.

This is a long way to get to the “All’s well that ends well” part of the day’s events, but both Kimme and I had a very good time. And, no doubt, possibly my last Bulldog 25K will be one of my more memorable experiences when I look back at my running life. Next year, if all goes well, I’m going after the 50K age group record, and damned, I know it’s not likely I’ll get any faster, I just hope I don’t get any more forgetful.

Michael: Simplicity

A drop of my blood
Smeared between finger and thumb
Is crimson anger.

Friday, August 24, 2018

Last Sunday I was extremely fortunate to pull off a double age group win, winning both the 10k and 5k at the McConnell’s Ice Cream races in Goleta. These were pavement races which I don’t do as often as trail races, but I like to mix it up now and then just to keep things fresh, test my leg speed, seek out competitors I haven‘t raced before, and the thought of making my own ice cream treat as a race reward sounded and was much more appealing than another race t-shirt.

Another very appealing aspect of this race was its low cost entry and racing simplicity. Both races were out and backs on the same bike path with the 5k turn around point serving as the aid station for the 10k (only water was available). The 10k turn around, a mile and a half up the path, was marked marked by an orange cone and chalk and manned by a volunteer. I’ve been in trail races where turn arounds were on the honor system, and I’ve always felt that was very trusting of the race director, though it could be just due to a volunteer shortage. It feels good racing under those conditions; like you’re part of an honorable tribe.

And to top it off, there was no race course signage; which meant for me, being a stranger to this course, no mile split times, and to be honest, that was a relief. At my age I’m trying to fight off the mental aspects of slowing down, and it’s bad enough to be reminded of that at the halfway points and finish without rubbing a bit more salt in the wound at every mile.

Will I return to defend my crowns? I’m not sure. That use to be very important to me, but time is racing ahead of me and I’ll just have to see what other quirky challenges are out there at this time next year. But McConnell’s was fun and if the schedule works out the low cost of the races along with the delicious ice cream will be very tempting.

Michael: That's a New One

Surreal shadows
Dance past the twilight hours
And into my dreams.

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Race goofs; we all make some of them. If we race long enough we’ll probably get to check off quite a few. On Sunday, I get to check off a new one for me.

After checking in and getting my bib, I warmed up a bit, went to the bathroom one last time then returned to my car to strip down to race attire and apply Topical Edge - one of my chosen, for this year, placebo/performance enhancement rituals.

But where was my bib? I swear I put it in my warm up jacket pocket, but after numerous searches of myself and my car, I came to the conclusion that I dropped it either in the bathroom or while finishing my warm up. Time to retrace my steps. I figured I’d also check in at the check in table to see if by good fortune some kind soul had returned it. They had. So I didn’t have to go through whatever procedure or penance would be paid if I needed a new number.

And this goof would’ve been twice as costly last Sunday as I was signed up for two races; a 10k and a 5k. But all ends well as I won my age group in both - number in tack through out both races.

Michael: Basic Black

City Coyotes
Trotting down Pierce Avenue
Energize our dog.

Friday, August 17, 2018

With four races coming up over the next three weekends, I’m naturally beginning to stress over what to wear. Usually I start with what shoes, and though that’s still not quite a settled issue, now I’m just as concerned over my sock choices.

Why?

No, not because I’m having any foot issues, but more because of a joke Seth Meyers made about Trump a couple of weeks ago. During his monologue he imagined Trump, while on vacation, sitting on the lawn in long white shorts and knee high black socks; you know - like your basic old grumpy fart.

White running shorts; I’ve never been confident enough to give that a shot and, after a few years ago, uncontrollably peeing my pants after a very strenuous 50k, I’ve definitely chosen to stick with black or maybe navy blue or deep forest green for race days. But socks, to spice it up a bit for race day, I thought I’d go the more colorful route and go with some Zensah donut crew socks. As a bonus of getting me out of the old fart kit, they match a donut bicycle jersey I have so they wouldn’t be just a one and done race day deal.

However, when I went to Running Warehouse for a few additional supplies, the socks were no longer available, and I don’t want to scan the net for just a pair of expensive, yet very appealing to me, socks.

So for the next month and four races, it’s looking like black crew socks and black shorts. I’m not going to try any more to get around it. I’ve got other fish to fry (an old man expression). However, if I do well, I’m going to color it up. But for now, stay the hell off my lawn.

Michael: Speaking Too Soon

Brownish red buckwheat,
Like old dusty pom pom balls,
Cheer us on the trail.

Tuesday, August 7, 2018

Eureka! I believe I’ve discovered my trail racing footwear for the rest of this year and into the next.

I was beginning to worry after experiencing heel pain in both the Nike Kiger 3s and Hoka Speed Instincts. So in desperation, before the Bull Dog 25k in two weeks, I decided to roll the dice on Hoka Torrents paired with Superfeet Green insoles. And after just one test run, I’m pretty positive I’ve found the winning combination. I know this sounds like jumping the gun, and it is, but I’m only going to be the baby of the 60 year old group once, so I’m throwing caution to the wind and even paying full price for a pair of running shoes.

Usually, I also wouldn’t break in a new pair of shoes with a new insole; seems more prudent to try the shoes first without the insoles and then add the insoles if necessary, but with only two weeks to go and only two trail run break ins possible, it just felt like the way to go.

Now, that I know what’s going on my feet, comes the hard part; co-coordinating the rest of my race outfit with my existing wardrobe. Hokas + insoles+ registration fees, doesn’t leave anything in the budget to accessorize.

Michael: Mixed Emotions

Basically naked
The woman cursed at her friend
Sitting in the car.

Saturday, August 4, 2018

In a little over three weeks my wife and I are going to race in the Bull Dog 25k. It’s been a few years for the both of us and, unfortunately, one of the thrills of running that race will be missing. That’s the age group competition between myself and Ron Paquette.

Ron holds the age group record for 50-59 year olds. In that span, when we did race, I only managed to beat him once. We haven’t mixed it up for the past three years as Kimme and I were living in Panama. So on our return, as a baby in the 60+ grouping, we were really looking forward to renewing the rivalry.

I throw Kimme into this because she really likes Ron. She also likes us competing against each other as she knows it means a lot to me. We talk about it. We have fun with it. That sort of thing. She isn’t just a spouse that just comes along for the ride. It means something to her which also makes me feel better about my seriousness about the goofiness of racing.

Of course not having Ron there will mean I can focus more on my own race; which is one of those clichés were all suppose to heed, but which fall by the wayside when enjoyably long rivalries have been created.

Oddly, this news was passed along to me in one of those “it’s a small world” ways that also make trail running/racing such a great way to enjoy exercise and being outside. Jim, another age grouper, and I work together and he ran into Ron while out on an excursion last Sunday. They talked and Jim passed that Ron wasn’t signing up for Bull Dog to me on Friday.

I’ll miss him, but am also relieved that I don’t have to consider picking my head up again and trying to remain in contact with him as his shirtless scrawny torso and floppy hat fade into the distance.