Guest Race Report: Michigan Wine Trail Half Marathon

Not a running pic, but definitely a great pic of Beth!

I really love a guest post, as you can probably tell from the number of them we have had on the blog. I will often ask people to write on races that they have run, especially when I am not doing anything interesting myself. However, I especially love it when someone contacts me because there is something that he or she wants to say and a story that needs to be told. That is what my friend Beth Johns did with this report.

As a writing teacher I know that writing can be really good therapy, helping us process our experiences and gain perspective. Beth, being a very wise librarian, as well as a smart runner, knew that too. We all have bad races, and we can all relate to what Beth went through. She definitely can tell a good story. Enjoy!! 

Sometimes you embark on consistent training and things are going pretty well. Until race day, that is. I have had a disappointing race season this summer, and I can only hope it gets better in the fall.  It’s certainly shaking my confidence as a runner like it’s never been shook before.

I began training for a half marathon training this summer. The half is by far my favorite distance and the one that got me started with Team P back in 2005.  I’ve done many—I can’t even tell you how many. I’ve finished most of them in about 2:30, which is fine since I don’t train to run faster, just stronger. But in the last year or so I’ve finished around 2:45. Mostly, this was planned since the race was worked into my marathon training and therefore, a slower pace.  I have reasons for the other slowdowns, but that might take up another guest post.

Those who run with me know I’m a big believer in Hal Higdon’s training plans and incorporate them with Jeff Galloway’s run/walk/run method. I’ve been using Hal’s intermediate plan, which incorporates weekly speed work and shorter mid-week runs, weekly long runs and a few optional mid-distance races. My speed work has gone well, once I understood what I was supposed to do (thank you Lori!) and I usually complete my mid-week runs, in mileage if not days, one strength session per week and of course the long runs.

In May, I started training for the Michigan Wine Trail Half Marathon.  I heard about this race on Facebook. It’s a road race that took place on August 25 in Baroda, MI and this was its second year. If you haven’t heard of Baroda, you aren’t alone. I hadn’t either until I Googled it. It’s a tiny town in the Stevensville/Benton Harbor area. There are a lot of wineries nearby, many of which you probably heard of (the location host, Baroda Founders Wine Cellar, Tabor Hill, and others). It’s a pretty part of the state once you are off I94, and one that I haven’t paid much attention to in the past. But it sounded like fun, kind of small (500 runners), and you got a wine glass at the end along with a taste. What fun!

One of the mid-distance runs in the plan was a 10K around the July 4^th holiday in Whitmore Lake. It was a bit humid, but not terrible. However, I started out way too fast—10 something per mile. I kept that up for about 3.5 miles, then slowed considerably. I’m good at that pace for a 5K, but apparently not a 10K. That taught me to start much slower, even if the race is “just” 6.2 miles. My finish time was terrible, even for slow poke me—about 78 minutes. I was aiming for 70 minutes. Oh well, it was a training run and you learn from it.

The next race in the plan was a 15K a few weeks later. I couldn’t find one in Michigan, so I found a 10K that took place on Belle Isle and decided to do 3 miles just ahead of the race start. What a nasty, humid day—I was drenched after my pre-race 3 miles. But I started my race, did well for about 4.5 miles, then that was it. I did more fast walking than planned. So another really bad finish—79 minutes! I told myself that running 3 miles in 35 minutes just before race start probably did it, plus the humidity. Still . . . it shakes you and makes you doubt yourself, but I kept in mind that it’s only a training run.

I completed my other long runs leading up to race day, but sometimes not ending in the exhilaration I want to feel. I just told myself, “race day will be better.” In the past, my poor training runs had usually resulted in a good race.  

The big weekend finally came. I drove to Baroda on Saturday, picked up my race packet, and then drove the race course because the description on the website said it was “challenging” with few details and I like to get an idea of what I’m going to be doing, if I can. I read about a “big” hill at mile 8.  I noted many rolling hills on my drive—not too steep, but a lot of them. Think of a loop of the Mt. Hope Cemetery times six. The big hill looked challenging, but I approach hills by doing my best and just walking if it’s too hard. I always run downhill at a race. I can usually make up time somewhere else. It crossed my mind that I should dial down my expectations, but the course overall didn’t seem too bad. I planned on a 2:30 finish, give or take 5 minutes.

Course Profile -- Definitely some hills there

The next morning I got to the start line, felt good, well hydrated and fed, no aches, and was pretty confident about myself. I started out at what I thought was a slow, comfortable pace. Mile one was 11:21 according to my watch—a little fast, but not too bad. I was aiming for 11:30. Then the hills started. It felt like a lot of up and down and up and down on long country roads (2 to 2.5 miles each with a few shorter ones) with some flat spots and declines. I try to incorporate a hill workout once a week, so hills themselves don’t scare me. But it really tires you out when you haven’t trained on a series of hills like these for several miles at a stretch, even if they are small inclines. 

By mile 8, the big hill, I slowed some, but was still close to my goal. 1 hour 33 minutes had passed. I was happy with my pace, even though that translates to about 11:35 per mile. That changed shortly after when I got to mile 9. There was ANOTHER big hill, shorter, but just as steep! Or it felt like that anyway. After struggling up that hill (actually, I walked up most of the first hill and this entire one), I was done. I walked, tried a little slow running, but my legs just wouldn’t move quickly enough. When you are walking as fast as you are running, you might as well enjoy the walk. So I did that to mile 10, and then switched my Galloway method to 1:2 (1 minute run, 2 minute walk). This actually helped my mental state a lot because trust me, there was a lot of self-loathing going on inside my head! I contemplated never running a half again, maybe never running at all since it seemed like I was putting a lot of effort into little reward. I added more running seconds as I felt able. I did manage the last quarter mile non-stop, so I sort of looked like I finished strong. One thing I hate is finishing, but feeling like I’m going to puke or collapse. This is one reason why the Galloway method works well for me. So it was important to me to finish feeling good.

I finished this half at 2:44:15. To make matters worse, they ran out of medals! (I received it in the mail later.) Thankfully, I got the wine glass and the taste. I was beating myself up about my finish immediately after this race though. Without all of those hills in the first half or at least the big hills, I truly think I would have finished in 2:30, mostly running because I was feeling pretty good up to mile 9.

I am running the Detroit Women’s Half on Belle Isle on September 22. I’m still aiming for a 2:30 finish.  The course is two loops of the island, but from what I remember from the 10K, it’s mostly flat, so unless we have a hot & humid day, or some other disaster happens, I hope I can brag a little afterwards. I’m also considering the Brückeläufe in Frankenmuth in October—13.1 miles over 13 bridges. So I have a couple of options to hit that goal. I just hope if I don’t, I can avoid a mental complex about racing!  I’m not sure what I’ll do if it happens again—maybe have a meltdown on the course (not really).

The Michigan Wine Trail Half is a nice, informal race that will probably grow. They went from 100 last year to almost 500 this year. There were a few issues that I’ve already discussed with the race director, aside from the medal problem. He is very responsive to everyone’s comments, which is a good sign. They have a nice group of volunteers, too, who do a decent job of encouraging you. The race has a 4 hour limit, so it could be a good one for walkers, too. There is also a 5K with it called the “Galloping Grape.” I do recommend this race for a nice change of scenery, really pretty farmland and as I found out, a challenging course. I think I may run it again next year—but just for fun. Unless I start training on hills like crazy.

Guest Race Report: Lost Dutchman Half Marathon

As I mentioned previously, I have been in a general funk lately, brought on by the unrelenting winter we are experiencing here in Michigan. It is almost April, and we are celebrating any day that gets above freezing. I have been avoiding anything that involves going outside to run, which is seriously cutting into the race reports for the year.

Luckily, I have friends who a) can travel to interesting races and b )don’t mind writing about them for the blog. Our favorite guest blogger, Leslie, of Mango Madness race report fame (and my partner in crime for many running adventures) has been kicking around the desert of Arizona with her daughter Christi at the Lost Dutchman Half Marathon. Here is her race report.

Leslie and Christi

It’s great to be back as a guest blogger!  This year I’ve set the somewhat crazy goal of completing 13 half marathons in 2013.  Crazy mostly because I set the goal while in an air cast for a stress fracture, and really wasn’t sure what the year would bring.   Perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly, but that’s what makes racing fun. Sign up, think about it later!

In February I traveled to Phoenix to spend a fun-filled week with my granddaughter (while mommy & daddy vacationed in Mexico).  I’m not one to go anywhere without checking for races, and twisting a few arms, if need be, to fit one in.    As luck would have it, there were 2 half marathons in the Phoenix area that fit my schedule.   With a little persuasion, my daughter agreed to race with me, and we settled on the Lost Dutchman Half Marathon, in Apache Junction, AZ.    This was a perfect opportunity for us to race together, since she was also coming off an injury and unable to run at her usual zippy pace.   

The race is set in the shadow of Superstition Mountain.    The half marathon is an out and back course, while the marathon is point to point.   There is also a 10K, Trail 8K and 2 Mile option.   Something for everyone!   The half is advertised as flat.   I guess flat is a relative term.  It was not flat compared to where I train in Michigan, but I suppose it is to those that normally train on 2 mile long inclines.   I consider a race that has what is affectionately called “the wall” to have a bit of an elevation change.   It did, but certainly wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle!

We skipped the race expo in Apache Junction, and opted to pick up our packets at Roadrunner Sports.    an ideal option for us. [Leslie never misses a chance to shop!]   Packet pickup was also available the morning of the race for everyone but the marathon runners.    If you do this race, it’s a great option.   There is plenty of parking in the park, and it’s only a short walk to the expo area.    Bring money!    The vendors are also onsite throughout the race.   One of my favorites was a local company called Gypsy Runner.    Lots of fun and creative items for runners and triathletes.   

On race morning we were up at o’dark o’clock for our drive to Apache Junction.    The race is easy to find, the parking is plentiful, as are the port-a-potties.    Lines were never more than 3 deep.    This alone makes this race a winner, in my book!    When we arrived, it was still dark, and cold.   Yes, it is cold in the desert at night, especially in the winter, even for a Michigander like me.     Thank goodness for a toasty car to wait in, since we arrived more than an hour before race time!    Cold temps aside, race temps are generally ideal for this race, and 2013 was no exception.   Chilly at the start, abundant sunshine (wear sunscreen), and around 60 at the finish.    Ideal in my book! 

Sunrise Start

The race started at 7:15 am, just as the sun was rising from behind Superstition Mountain.   After a flat stretch out of the Prospector Park, there is a slight climb before turning towards Superstition Mountain, the sun, and a very nice downhill (note to self.......we come back this way).    The route is not only beautiful, but offers a freshly graded shoulder for those that prefer dirt to pavement.    

Wide Dirt Shoulder

 What more could you ask for, eh?    The route is rolling to the turnaround with ample aid stations.   Superstition Mountain gets closer with each step, there are beautiful desert views, plentiful saguaro cacti, and an occasional hawk or prairie dog.  

Beautiful Scenery!

With something new to discover with each step, the miles zip by as you reach the turnaround.   

The Wall

Ah, the turnaround!    Up and down rollers, and then “The Wall”!   A fun climb from approximately mile 10.5 through 12.5.   Funny it seems like more of a climb in this direction than a downhill in the other direction.   The race directors have a sense of humor, and place a “wall” to go through in the middle of the road.   Be sure to take advantage of the photo opportunities, but don’t be fooled!    You aren’t close to the top!    Give it another mile or so, and don’t take too much stock in those elevation charts!    My legs were toast by the time I did reach the top, so I wasn’t able to fully enjoy that downhill towards the finish.   Still, I finished strong, only 2 minutes off of a PR.   Not bad for 7 weeks training out of the boot!    Overall, it’s a fast course.

Lost Dutchman had some of the best post-race food.    Besides the usual bananas, cookies and bagels, they offered yogurt with granola or breakfast burritos.   Yum!!!!!    Also, a lot of fun photo opportunities with the prospector and his donkey and array of crazy critters!   The medals are original and fun too.    Each race has its own medal.   None of that full/half share a medal thing at Lost Dutchman!  

Photo Opps

Would I recommend this race?   Absolutely!    Lost Dutchman is a small race that is well organized.   It’s a nice bonus to have a road race that isn’t run through a city.    For trail runners, no it isn’t a trail, but the gravel/dirt shoulder is a nice option if a trail race isn’t available.   

The Finishers and Their Bling!

Race Report: Ice Cube Half Marathon (or "A Winter Warrior I Am Not")

Let me start this by saying first of all that I am so NOT a Winter Warrior. Despite that very-obvious-to-anybody-who-knows-me fact, I let myself be swept up by FOMO (fear of missing out) and some fairly decent bling (I am a sucker for handmade awards) and talked into running the Ice Cube Half Marathon in Mt. Pleasant, MI.  I know you are probably saying, “Yeah, I heard of that race. Wasn’t that a couple of weeks ago?” The answer is that yes it definitely was, but my fingers have just now sufficiently thawed out to be able to type this race report. Seriously, it was that bad.

Let me clarify just a bit. The race itself was not that bad, at least in theory. It has many things going for it. It is a small race, put on by an enthusiastic and committed race director. (If I am not mistaken, he actually makes all the awards himself!) It has a good course, not much traffic, some dirt roads, rolling hills. It has community support (post-race party in a pub, and free bagels and coffee post-race. There really is a lot to love. Except the weather.

The race is part of the Winter Warrior series. These are three races on the same course, one in January (Snowman), one in February (Ice Cube), and one in March (Mud Dog). I had been planning to do all three, but a tooth extraction made me miss the Snowman, but I let my friend Ruth talk me into the Ice Cube. Now keep in mind that I had not run outside probably since my last race. Okay, maybe I did once, but only because the temps got up to the 40s. I prefer to train in winter in the comfort of my basement where it is always a comfortable 68 degrees. I was in no way prepared for 13.1 miles of 19 degree temperatures and icy wind.

Race day came and things were looking good. I drove up to pick up Ruth and Sharon, traveling companions from the Kentucky Cross CountryChampionships, and a new friend Steve. The weather was in the mid-twenties and not too bad. We were optimistic. We headed north. It got colder. The temp on my dashboard was dipping down to 20, but I had lots of layers. No worries.

We got to the race a little early so decided to drive the course to check for ice. The pavement was dry and clear; things were looking good. Then we turned on to the dirt section of the course. There was a little ice… it didn’t look too bad really. Did it?  We drove a little farther: ice, lots more ice. We stopped and Ruth put a tentative foot out of the car. Hmmmm. But it would be okay, right? I mean there were some spots that looked clear where the car tracks were.

Sharon, by far the most sensible of all of us, decided that she was not going to risk it. She decided to step down to the 5k, which was all on the pavement and didn’t venture out onto the icy dirt. Steve, Ruth, and I decided to stick it out in the half. Ruth and I both really wanted a long run. I don’t know Steve well enough to know his thought process, but he was a veteran of the race and just smiled and said he was in too.

The start was just the kind of small race affair that I love, very informal. There was a pretty good crowd because there was a 5k and 10k, as well as the half, all starting together. I figured that the half field would not be too big, as I was sure that most people had enough sense to go the shorter distance. We were off, and I started off comfortably at the pace I had planned.

I had looked at the race results from previous years, as well as the results from the Snowman this year. It looked like if I ran this just slightly faster than my normal long run training pace, I could be in the awards. That pace would have won my age group in any of the previous races. I was a little worried that there seemed to be a lot of people in front of me, including many women. I had looked at the results, and there really should have not been that many women out ahead of me. I decided that they must be in the 5k or 10k and would probably be heading back soon. I was surprised when we hit the 5k turnaround not to see more people branching off.

We turned off the pavement onto the dirt ice road, and headed toward the 10k turnaround. I was still feeling okay. I had settled into pace and was holding steady, but slowed some because of the footing. It was icier than it had looked in the car. In fact, by about a mile into this section of the course, we started hitting sections where the road was all ice, except for maybe an eight to ten inch wide section. Sometimes this was on both sides of the road; other times, it was one narrow strip. We were spread out pretty good, and I was not in a position to pass anyone, but the running took 100% concentration for each footfall.  I had on my screw shoes, and I was not having problems slipping. They were biting really well, but I was haunted by stories of runners taking nasty falls lately on the ice. Caution was the order of the day.

As we passed the 10k turnaround, again I did not see that many runners turn around. It seems that most had chosen the half. There were still a lot of women ahead of me, and I got passed by a few. The course is kind of T-shaped, and as we made the turn-around at the left end of the T and started back, I started to be cold. I felt it in my face and legs first. My lips were numb, especially my upper lip from the frozen snot. My legs were feeling like I was running through syrup. I think that being all tensed up from running carefully on the ice, combined with the cold wind, and the fact that I definitely was not cold acclimated (yes, you acclimate to that just like you do heat) was just too much of a shock for my legs. I was cheered up a bit as I met Ruth and Steve after the turnaround, but that was short lived.

We made it out to the second turnaround part of the T. I was slowing some but still maintaining a satisfactory overall pace. It was really icy here. There was just one narrow strip in many spots, which made it kind of dodgy as the two-way traffic fought for position. There was a little relief from the wind, but when we made the turn to go down the straight part of the T the wind picked up. That is when the weird stuff started. I started to feel a little dizzy. As I was processing that, I realized I could not blink my eyes. I figured they were numb from the cold. “Can your eyeballs freeze?” I wondered. I would have asked a fellow runner, but I knew that if my eyes weren’t working, there was no way my lips were going to get that out.

I kept going. It was around mile 10.5 I think, and there was really no other alternative. I knew if I stopped, I would be even colder. Plus, the important thing at that moment seemed to be to get back to the finish, get my coupon for a free bagel and coffee, and get in as much as steaming hot coffee as I could hold. That is when things got worse. Suddenly my vision was blurry. I wanted to wipe my eyes with my glove. That is when I found that my gloves were frozen. They were those mitten-over-glove things, and I had spilled water on them at the last aid station. The mittens were frozen closed.

Now, besides the blurriness, I had little shapes, mostly triangles, sliding across my vision. I did not know what to do, so I kept running. I kind of felt if I could just get to the pavement, I would be fine. I could speed up and get this over with quicker. We made the turn onto the pavement. It changed the wind, or the wind died down, or something. I realized that I had blinked, and my vision was starting to clear.

I felt better about that, but my legs were screaming by then. This was the longest I had run since my last ultra, back in October. I so just wanted this whole thing to be over with. It felt like the last mile of the marathon from hell Antarctica (my personal version of hell) to me.

Finally, I stumbled across the line. I was feeling kind of disoriented, but knew that the key thing was to get the ticket for the bagel and coffee and get to the bagel shop to warm up before the post run chill set in. I grabbed my medal and the chit, and headed for the warm bagel shop. I did not pay much attention to my time, but did notice that my pace had dropped to an 8:52 overall, which I was still happy with, as that was the training pace that I would normally be running these longs at right now.

Once inside I got in line. It was warm. My face started to thaw out. The line was long. My fingers and toes started to thaw a little. Then I started to feel funny, maybe a little dizzy again. Yikes! It will be okay, I thought. I just need coffee and a muffin. There was no way I was getting out of that line. We moved a little. I started to feel kind of nauseous. I am two people from the front. “Come on,” I thought. “How long does it take to order your damn coffee?”  In retrospect, besides the nausea and dizziness, I may have been a bit cranky.

Finally I got to the front of the line and ordered. I was soooo nauseous by this time. I knew I had to get out of the line. I said to the girl, who had decided at that moment to do something to rearrange her cash drawer, “How much longer do you think this is going to take because I think I am going to be sick.” She took a quick look at my face, shoved the coffee cup and change into my hand, and I sprinted off to the ladies’ room, which was mercifully empty. After a few minutes of being sick, I felt better but was starting to get chilled. Back out I went for the hot coffee. It was ambrosia.

I looked around the coffee shop for Sharon. She wasn’t there so I headed back to the car. She was there and had run a great race. Soon Ruth and Steve came back, both as chipper as could be. It seemed that I was the only one of our group who had suffered. We went inside for the awards. I was sure I had not won my age group, but I was hoping it had been good enough for 2^nd. I really wanted one of those little Ice Cube figurines. Unfortunately it was not meant to be. Some speedy 50+ women from cold places like Marquette were in the race. I ended up with third, and no Ice Cube (I am still pouting over that). Of course, Ruth and Sharon both picked up 1^st in their age division. I run around with some fast women. J

I would like to say that I recovered quickly from the race, but that would not be true. In fact, it was several days before I even wanted to try running. It has been two weeks, and my legs still don’t feel quite right. As much as I want one of the cute little Snowmen or Ice Cube awards, I am not sure if I will go back. Okay, maybe I will -- but only for a 5k or 10k. 

Race Report: Pacing at Capital City River Run Half Marathon

This past weekend I had one of the most fun times I have ever had at a race. I was a pacer for the 10:30 group at the Capital City River Run Half Marathon in Lansing, Michigan. For those of you who don't know me personally, this is my "hometown" race now. It starts in downtown Lansing, not too far from the capital runs through part of downtown, across the campus of Michigan State University and then onto the Lansing River Trail, then snakes back to downtown for the finish.

About 2/3 of the race, the parts through MSU and the River Trail, are on my regular running routes, so the  course if very familiar. It is also one of the major runs for my Playmakers running club, as can be clearly seen by the number of red shirts in the crowd.

I have never been an official pacer before, and I have to say that it is an absolute blast!! I was picked up as a substitute because one of the regular pacers for my group, Hollie, was injured. I soon found out that the other pacer for the group, Nancy, was also not going to make it so by happy chance one of my favorite running buds, Dee, got to pace with me! Pacers for this race wear costumes, which totally sealed the deal (both for Dee and me). I mean who doesn't love a good run in a costume?? We decided to be police officers, mostly because we both had the necessary accouterments on hand, except for a few essentials like whistles and fishnet stockings, which were quickly purchased.

Race morning was beautiful: cool, clear, and sunny. The entire experience was a blast. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I am going to save all kinds of space and just play the video so you can see for yourself: (I originally had this set to "Born to Run," but there is that little copyright issue, so you have some blues instead.)



More than anything else, what this day reminded me of is what a really, really great group of runners I get to hang with here in Lansing!