Perplexing Fast Runs

Every week I do a 2.5 mile tempo run on Tuesday with guys from work.

It's a handicapped run, meaning that we stagger our start times so that we should all finish at the same time. Since we're all scientists and engineers, of course we keep track of times, and have a complicated algorithm to calculate one's handicap. It's based on a weighted average of your all time average, your average over the last 5 runs, and your fastest time ever.

The formula is perplexing, but that isn't what has been itching at the corner of my mind lately.

 
Here it is. My fastest times seem to come on a Tuesday following a hard weekend.

On Tuesdays following an easy weekend, or a moderate weekend, my times are slower. I don't understand why this is the case.

For the last year, my ten best times are all this way. Sometimes, it is the Tuesday following a race. Most of the time, I have not taken Monday off. These good times are not grouped into a type of training – base, build, sharpen, taper, run focus, bike focus. They do not come after epic weekends – not after the IM, not after the Jemez 50K/SF century double.

Today, I had my third best time. (It isn't plotted yet.) But I just did the Quad on Saturday, and Sunday I rode my bike.

My fastest time came after my first IM race rehearsal weekend, in which I swam 4200 yds, biked 113 miles, and ran 7 miles.

What gives?

Possibilities:

    Psychological:

• I always feel like I am dogging it out there on Tuesday after a long training weekend. So maybe I push harder and ignore/discount the tiredness in my legs?
  
• Maybe there is increased confidence from the hard work over the weekend? (I don't think so.)
  
• Maybe the discomfort during the short hard tempo effort seems small compared to the long term discomfort of the weekend?
  

    Physical:

• I seem to recover quickly, so perhaps my short, high intensity engine is already replenished and maybe supercompensating from the weekend's hard work? (I doubt it – too quick, don't you think?)
  
• Perhaps the hard weekends force me to hydrate and fuel adequately at least after the effort, so on the following Tuesday my body is more prepared?
  
• Does this mean I'm not working hard enough on my hard weekends? Or does it just mean that the training is doing its job in making me faster?
  

 
Just an oddity that continues to surface. Any ideas?

Hit me with your best shot… of tequila

Faking the quad (Mt Taylor Quadrathlon) :

1. Was not as easy as I anticipated.
   
2. Was a fun day out on the mountain
   
3. in gorgeous weather
   
4. with great friends.
   
5. Made me question my abilities, but in the end provided some confirmation of them.
   
6. Was a good chance to try something different!
   

 
Although I had decided, like K, to fake the quad and not train or taper for it specifically, I still hoped to be faster than last year. I'm in a lot better shape, so I hoped that would translate to a fast time for me even on a long training day. I was hoping for under 6 hours, and maybe, I thought, I'd get 5:45. But whatever happened, I was going to avoid racing hard.

We had awesome weather this year. Grants was 45 degrees during the day, and even on top of Mt. Taylor it couldn't have been below 10 degrees. Balmy, I tell you. This year I felt like a seasoned pro – all my quad gear (3 bags full) was still together from last year. I knew what gear worked. I switched my bike cassette to my race wheels, and I was ready to go! Plus, we had two people new to the quad in our group, A and L, and so offering them advice and rehashing the course brought some excitement to the day ahead.

The bike up is 13 miles. I felt fine starting off, just cruised easily, drafting off of others to avoid the headwind. As the course turned uphill, I felt like I was working a bit harder for the speed I was going than I would have expected. I began to wish I had done a little taper after all! I hoped I'd settle in and find my groove. To ease the workload I tried to switch to a lower gear around mile 5.

Snickety-snick snick- cha-ching- crickety-crickety snick snick cha-ching!

Uh oh. No getting in to my easiest two gears, it looks like. I guess I should have taken my bike for a spin after changing the cassette to my race wheels. Did I have this problem during Beach to Battleship? Hmm, I don't think I ever got into my lowest two gears on that flat course.

This is going to suck.

Maybe I should try it again… 
snick snick Ka-ching- crickety-crickety snick snick snick cha-ching!

Nope.

Oh well, suck it up, buttercup. Onward and upward. My cadence was pretty slow, and I was mashing the pedals. The downhill part was a welcome relief! I shook out my legs a little. About mile 9, I thought I heard a hissing from my rear wheel. Pretty sure that I had a flat, I stopped to check. But the rear (and front) tire were fine. Back on the bike. My quads are definitely burning now. Mile 12… I still heard the hiss - I better get off and see if something is rubbing back there. Dismounting again, I actually look at the rear tire, and realize that it is mounted very crooked in the bike. Argh. So one brake was rubbing, and the cassette was at a bad angle to the derailleur.

Once the wheel was mounted right, I hopped back aboard, and finally was able to roll. With two additional gears, I caught several people on the last mile. One of them asked if I had solved my problem -he had offered to help as he passed me – and I explained what had been wrong. He commented on what a fortunate thing it was to catch it at this point. I agreed, but said it would have been awfully nice to figure it out a bit sooner on the way up!

Out of T1, B ran with me for a bit and told me that the road was clear ahead with some bare spots. It was icy enough that I was glad for my Yak trax, though they aggravated my neuroma on my left foot a little. I drafted behind a nice 6'2" guy as we still had a headwind. He was setting a good pace. My legs were quite tired from the bike. I took in a gel on the long uphill into T2. A and then L passed me on this section, making good time in on the run, his strong suit.

I was fairly efficient in transitions this year. And so, as I was about to head out, I noticed that my backpack was not among the stuff the volunteers had brought me. I asked for it, and faster than I could put on my gloves, they brought it and put in on my back. Awesome. I passed L just outside the transition area, and he seemed to be dreading the ski ahead. "just a hike with sticks on your feet! Let's go!"

As always, I saw a few people without skins on their skis. So much of the course is steep that they were herringbone-ing most of it. I felt for them, and gave them encouragement as I passed. I was way more tired than I expected. I used my arms to really push myself up the mountain. I caught up to A just after the meadow. His knee was in a lot of pain after he fell during the bike section. I stayed close to him for the remainder of the ski. Going up heartbreak I could tell I was just spent. I stopped several times. Once, A turned and saw me taking a break. I was a little embarrassed to be so tired – I was supposed to be this tough endurance runner! Sheesh, Ghost Town 38.5 wasn't this hard. And I'm not even halfway. Ah well, there's something to be learned from this, I'm sure. Keep moving forward.

Into T3, and there's DP. I was, well, a little grumpy. And yet, she gets a shot of me here that you'd never guess my mood from:

DP helps me with my skins, gets me some water, hands me some salt tabs. And off I go. A passes me. Pretty soon, I see K coming back. He offers a bit a sage advice, "If you take a shot at the Edge of the World, do it on the way down, not the way up. I had 'Hot Damn' and going up after that wasn't good." I near the Edge of the World, to a guy in a snowmobiling suit calling me by name.

"Margaret! Good to see you! Boy, you are just doing fantastic. Ahead of schedule."

Two other guys at a bar set up in the snow:

"Margaret, you are looking so good! You know, we really appreciate you coming out here and doing this race in the middle of your beauty pageant schedule. If you were walking the runway right now, you'd win for sure, you look amazing. Gorgeous."

"Can we get you something to drink? Water? Maybe some liquor?"

Aww, thanks. Water for now, boys.

DP passes me, doing the snowshoe leg for her team. She encourages me, shouting, "Come on! Come on baby! Almost there!" But I can't keep with her as the climb gets steeper. I see her top out, and then head down. Finally I get there. Man are my legs tired. I'm toasted. The volunteers say, "Margaret! DP says you're doing Leadville! She says you are one tough chick, and we can see it's true! You go, girl!"

(wow, it's like my own personal cheering section up here!) Despite my legs, that puts some pep in them and I start running downhill.

I figure I could use an excuse for what must be a slow-ish time, and decide a stop at the bar is definitely in order. 'Sides, I have to keep up with K, at least in spirit, since I can't do it in truth.

"Margaret! Back already! And still looking fresh as a daisy!"

Me: "ok, boys, hit me!"

Them: "What would you like? We have hot damn, Tequila, Jack Daniels… blah blah blah….."

Me: "I'm not much of a drinker. Give me a shot of whatever you want!" (this is putting it mildly. I've never had anything that they had on that bar.)

Them: "Well, now, you are doing so well, and looking so good, I'm pouring you a shot of tequila!"

Me: "sounds good – bottoms up!" (That's what you're supposed to say, right?)

This is my first shot of tequila ever, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to down it all at once. So down the hatch it goes. Huh, you know, they're not joking when they say it burns going down. I smack my lips for good effect, and hand the Dixie cup to the bar man. "Thanks boys!" (that comes out a little strangled. They get a good laugh out of that.)

I make sure to run off down the trail to make it look good, but once I'm out of sight of the bar, I walk a little. *cough* Well, I sure hope I don't experience that again on the way back up. A few deep breaths, and it's time to keep moving, even if my belly is on fire. I catch up to A. He says I'm looking good. "I'll be doing ok, as long as that shot of tequila stays down!" And it's into transition for the downhill ski.

DP helps me through transition again (you couldn't ask for a better friend) and she even gets a glass of water for me. Everything back in the backpack, and it's time to leave.

Since I'm not racing, I snowplow the whole thing. My hips start to ache pretty quickly, but there's nothing to do but keep going. Conditions are good for me – a little loose snow, no ice. I think this is the first year I didn't fall during the race. I didn't even come close. Towards the end, I finally bring my skis parallel and try to go a little faster. I'm afraid I actually was taking up so much of the trail that the fellow behind me couldn't pass. I tried to scoot to one side, but he stayed put. I apologized for it as we got to the road. I catch up to A again just before transition. His knee is hurting so much, he's not sure he will finish if it means walking the 5 miles down to the bikes.

Into T2'. B is there, waiting for his team mate. I try to find someone with ibuprofen for A, without luck. B helps me with my gear and in no time, I'm running down the road. I give my customary whoop of joy to be in running shoes moving downhill. Wahoo! I'm tired, but with the help of gravity, running is easy and smooth. What a great feeling. I think I took my second gel here. So with the Gatorade on my bike, and an orange slice along the way, I think that makes 250-300 calories. (not so good.) Oh wait, and the tequila. So maybe 350. J I passed several people on the run. I always seem to – my downhill running is just better than my uphill. I still never know when the end of the run section is near, so it's a beautiful surprise to top a hill and see the bike transition laid out in front of me.

Into T1'. I have 3 kids and a mom helping me through transition. One of the kids comments on my weird shoes – he thinks the yak trax are part of the shoe. I explain that no, they just stretch on over the shoe to give traction in the ice. The kids are so anxious to help, getting things from my bag, and putting away my running stuff. Just fantastic. They wish me luck as I head out, and I think – I don't need luck, I need speed!!

A quick look at my watch (the first of the day) and I confirm that I won't be finishing in 5:45, or under six. The time as I leave on the bike is 5 hours and 30 minutes. In fact, I'm going to have to work pretty hard to be faster than last year. Ok, well, let's go then! Thirteen miles, and 36 minutes to do it in. Glad it is downhill! I tear off, and am at top speed almost immediately. I brake once to go around a sharp curve, but then beg my beautiful bike for every ounce of speed it has. It delivered 50 mph for a short stretch, and then I'm pedaling to keep it in the 30s. The miles click off quickly. Seems like there's a crosswind this year, occasionally it shifts to a headwind, then back again. Up the hill, and my tired legs are not so impressed. But before I know it, I'm turning by the smiths, and working to keep my speed up over 20 mph. Through town the pavement isn't so smooth, so I'm out of my aerobars for the last mile. I cross the line at 6:04:14. Two minutes faster than last year! Woot! And pretty much all of that gain had to come from the downhill section.

(you know, it wouldn't be a race post from me without a little analysis…)

	2008	2009	2010
Bike up + T1	1:18:25	1:06:25	1:16:54 (ouch)
Run + T2	1:10:47	1:09:04	1:07:53
Ski	54:26	51:34	50:11
Snowshoe +T3	35:51	35:23	37:44
Snowshoe down	15:01	12:58	13:27 (the shot)
Ski down + T3'	33:56	32:51	31:47
Run down + T2'	53:58	51:31	48:08
Bike down + T1'	XXX bike crushed XXX	46:40	38:13
Finish Time		6:06:34	6:04:14

 
In the end, though I didn't break 6 hours, I had a great day. Both A and L finished, many stories were shared. Much bling was awarded. Owing to the paucity of competing females my age, and of course, though I don't like to mention, my innate awesome-ness, I took first in my AG. DP's team won, K won 3^rd in his AG. And the post race pizza definitely hit the spot.

Faking it.

Faking it has gotten a bad rap. Who doesn’t think of Meg Ryan in a diner when they hear that phrase? And, come on, don’t we all want what she’s having?

Faking it has several benefits, really.
1.)    You get to enjoy the journey.
2.)    Plans and expectations get thrown out the window.
3.)    You can enjoy other people really going for it.
4.)    And, as in my case, sometimes you want to save yourself for other efforts down the line.

Yeah, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’ve decided to fake the Quad. Between my Achilles injury and the old Pueblo 50 miler coming up in 3.5 weeks, it’s probably wise. Take it easy, don’t do too much race specific training, treat it like a long training day, and enjoy the ride.

What did you think I meant?