Facebook Alert: It's Official...

Most of the comments were encouraging, with some misgivings for my safety.  About what one would hope for from a group of friends and Facebook friends.

Click here to see the post.  

You Want Me to What?

On March 7th, 2016, I received an exciting (and frightening) email from Human Resources at our employer, US Xpress.

Anxiously, I clicked on the link.  I was thinking that a challenging race late this summer would set me up for a nice PR on my December marathon in California.

May 22, 2016

May?  As in May: not next month, but the one after that?  I double-checked.  Yep, May of this year.  Conflicting thoughts raced through my head. 

 Don't people train for months for Half-Ironman races? Free! As in, "no entry fee?" Don't those things cost $300 or so?  Didn't I just have the lowest mileage months of running in years in January and February?  Yea, but free!  And no time-off counted against you. Let's see, last bike ride was October of 2015, and last swim workout was in Costa Rica in September of 2015.  Hey, last time US Xpress offered you free entry into a race, it was an Olympic Length Triathlon occurring just a week after a marathon.  You pulled that one off.  But a Half-Ironman is more than TWICE the distance of the Olympic-length triathlon.

I came to the conclusion that I would have to be an idiot to sign up for such a challenging race with so little preparation time.

So.  Of course I signed up.

See you in Chattanooga.

Still Hollow Trail Half-Marathon

Race Report August 2015

I had never run a half-marathon before.  My splits on some of my marathons have been under two hours, so I thought I might do a half under 2:00:00.

Facebook friends are often talking about noticing a race in an area, and just signing up for it.  In the spirit of camaraderie, I began surfing the internet.  I knew I had a day off in lovely Chattanooga.  Cindy and I were to be recognized for driving two million safe miles on Saturday, so Sunday was free. As it turned out, the meeting was great, a group of us toured the corporate headquarters, and met a bunch of people that previously were only voices on a telephone line.  I found a few races, including a trail race in a wildlife area just across the interstate from US Xpress.

One of the guys in Customer Service is a runner, and I talked him into going to the race also.  Adam opted for the 10K, instead of the Half.  He let me know that racing on trails was likely to cost me about one to two minutes per mile compared to my road-racing times.  He was right.  I finished in 2:14:57.

Finish line smile? Or finish line grimace?

Adam met me in the dark morning of the race at the sign-up desk.  You don't know until you try it, but it is hard to recognize people in the dark woods, wearing headlamps.  As the sun came up, we were on our way.  For the first 10K, much of the race was on a wider trail.  Adam is a talented runner, and we did not stay together very long.  I saw him crest a hill, turn right between two trees, and have never seen him since.  (Don't worry, he is not missing.  I spoke to him on the phone, and no one else took over his job.)

After the 10K mark, we went onto a single track trail.  At first, I had most people passing me.  "On your left." is the magical words to pass someone.  I was glad I learned it early.  I maintained my same pace, got into a great rhythm, and started putting up negative splits.  I was a little worried that I might have been pushing it too hard, especially when I started passing many of the people who had passed me earlier.  "On your left."  "On your left."  I kept saying.  One guy told me his legs were "crazy heavy."  I expressed my concern that I was going out too fast.  He said I looked great, and we were on our way in, not out.

About mile eight, I had the thought that I had not stumbled on the root-and-rock infested trail.  About 300 feet later... Yeah.  Not even a fall though, I caught myself on the way down and kept striding.  Another mile or so and I had the thought, "Wow, only one stumble, and I did not hit the ground!" About 600 feet later... Again, yeah. A granite outcropping gave me a nice scrape on my shoulder, forearm, and knee as I did a parachute landing fall to avoid twisting my ankle.  A guy at the finish line later said "Welcome to trail running."  I responded, "No blood, no glory."  He seemed to like the exchange.  So did I.

I had never fallen during a marathon road race.  But then again, I had never seen deer on the course, nor felt the Zen of letting my feet find the next spot to land on their own, nor come away with such a big smile on my face.  It was a great day.

Rock N Roll Marathon, Denver CO

Garmin Connect

Henderson CO

Garmin Connect

How NOT to Run a Marathon

I did not plan ahead to do everything wrong when I met some friends to compete in the Flying Pig Race Series.  Things just worked out that way.  I thought it might make a great tutorial.

How to Run a Marathon Poorly

First, under-train.

My race plan for the year was to run a triathlon with my brother-in-law in August, then run the Denver Rock-N-Roll Marathon in October.  I was running, but not really training through the winter.  Then I decided to run with some friends in Cincinnati in May.  Slight time adjustment.

Cindy and I have been active on a Facebook group called Truckin' Runners.  Most of the posts are about places to park a truck and go for a run.  Topics also include running equipment, shoes, cross-training, and some tucking industry stuff.  We also encourage each-other, or offer consolation, about our workouts and race plans. The group consists of everyone from people who just walked the first mile in years to runners who race Ultra-Marathons, or races longer than the 26.2 miles of a marathon.  The group is very supportive.  We are an unusual niche, drivers who want to make an effort to stay fit while trucking.  We connect very well with each other, and are often looking for a chance to do a workout together somewhere on the road.

The Truckin' Runners had been trying to get a group together for a race for some time.  The 2013 Flying Pig Race Series was the biggest turnout yet, with six members racing.  The race offered a 5K, a 10K, a 10K Pump-N-Run where you bench press a weight determined by your weight and age, then run, and a marathon.  I decided to run the marathon.  Cindy decided to run the 5K.

I had a shorter time to train then I would have liked, but it could have been enough.  I missed some runs because I was helping Cindy with her training, but I still could have had plenty of workouts.  I drive a truck for a living, and do not have a regular schedule, but I have trained for other marathons successfully in the past.  The three together got me this time, though.  I ran far fewer total miles then past marathon training, and did not get in the critical long runs I needed.

Run another race the day before your marathon.

Cindy had used the Couch-to-5K program to work her way through the steps needed to race a 5K.  I had gone on almost all of the workouts with her, and was proud of her improvements.  She had run/walked a couple of 5K races before, but this was the first one where she had really put an effort into the training.  I thought she could break forty minutes, but she was concerned that her time might be very slow.  As the date of the races came about, I knew I was not going to have a great marathon, so I signed up to run with her.  It just seemed right, after all the training we had done together.  Cindy ran 39:42.  I will always treasure the memory of running that race with her, and would not trade it for anything.  Even a great marathon.

Have a few beers the night before the race.

What the heck, the other runners were celebrating great times in the 5K and 10K, why not tip a few with them?  Well, other than dehydration, lower energy levels, and an increased inflammation response.  The micro-brewery had some tasty beer, though.  It was nice to visit with friends.

Leave your gear in the hotel room

OK, I always ran with my Garmin 205, and it did not make it to the race with me.  I like to watch my pace, and needed to keep on track with my Garmin if I was going to keep from doing something stupid like starting  off too fast.

Start off too fast.

John Weibe was the other Truckin' Runner who had signed up for the marathon.  We met up in the starting corral before the race.  My goal for 2013 was to run a nine-minute-per-mile marathon.  That would work out to 3:55:48 total time.  John had run marathons faster than that before, and was expecting to be under four hours, but not a lot under four hours.  We decided to run together, at least for a while.

I had never raced with someone before.  Maybe having some companionship would help me meet my goal, even though I was not really prepared.  I started looking for the pacer with the banner that read 4:00.  John looked for the pacer with 3:40.  Eeeks.  What the heck, I came to spend time with my friends.  Maybe I could see how much good having a running partner could be.  Maybe I could coast to a 3:40 and qualify for Boston.  Maybe I'm and idiot and I would pay for my mistakes.

Do not change your race plan to meet your training.

The band at the start line stopped playing.  I wonder what their manager told them about the gig.  Be there at 4:00 in the morning, dress warm, and act excited.  The announcer gave proper homage to the sponsors, and we had a moment of silence in memory of the victims of the bombing at the Boston Marathon earlier in the year.  Then we were off.  I love the start of a race.  The sun was just turning the sky pink as we ran over the bridge into Kentucky.

John and I were talking, and maintaining a pace between 8:30 and 8:45 minutes per mile.  After we got warmed up and the running smoothed out we crossed over the bridge back to Ohio.  I noticed that my respiration did not fully recover from the "hill" the bridge created.  We crossed the 5K mark.  I asked John how he felt.  He said he felt like he was "taking a walk in the park."  I felt pretty good, but this was my fourth marathon, and I knew my breath was too short and my heart was too fast for only being at four miles.  I told John I was going to slow to a 9:00 per mile pace, and I would see him at the finish line. 

The huge hill starts about mile six.  I watched the pace teams go by me, and tried to stay with the 4:00 team.  They had gotten a bit ahead of me, but I caught them on the last half-mile of the hill.  As we crested the hill, they took off, and as they rounded a corner, I knew I had seen the last of them.  That was near mile eleven.  If I had listened to my own common sense, I would have switched to the Half-Marathon in the week before the race.  I still could have ran with John, because the races started at the same time.  The runners of the half split off from the runners of the full during the race.  If I knew I only had a couple more miles to go, I may have been able to finish the half strong, probably around 2:00.  As it was, I went into survival mode.  I had fifteen more miles to run, not two.

Set absurd, unrealistic goals.

Setting mid-run goals is something I do in my training.  I like to tell myself that if I run hard to the next phone-pole, I can slow up for a while.  Or that if I keep my pace for a certain amount of time, I can take a drink out of my water bottle.  I have found that I need to take my reward, or my body figures out that I am trying to trick it and the goal-setting does not work.

I told myself that if I made it to mile sixteen with no walk-breaks, I could take my shirt off to stay cooler.  I had been walking through the aid stations, but I meant a real walk break, like 2/10 of a mile.  Or a nap.  Next thing I knew I was walking up to the aid stations, and a bit after.  Those stations where they hand out water and sports drink got to be a quarter-mile long.  I could not make my goal, but I still took my shirt off.  

I set several goals I did not complete, and it was a bit discouraging, but I did set one that did me some good.  I decided to have fun.  I called Cindy at mile fifteen to tell her I was going past a Kroger Grocery store.  I asked her if she needed me to pick something up, maybe a gallon of milk or a case of soda.  The runners around me looked at me either in horror or with a smile.  At mile seventeen, there were some national guardsmen on a hill with what looked like AK-15s.  It was a somber reminder that after the Boston terror attack this sight may become a part of marathons.  I hollered at one of the guardsmen.  "SHOOT ME!"  They looked surprised, then laughed.  "C,mon," I said. "Really land one, too.  If you wing a runner they will just keep going." I got a few chuckles from the other runners, but no one offered to knock me out and end my pain.

Keep running.

Of course, I could have stopped at any time and had my first DNF (did not finish).  By the time I met my cheering section at about mile twenty, I was really hurting.  My legs were cramping, my back was going into spasms, I had gotten light-headed a few times.  They had seen John go by some time ago, and he still looked strong.   I did not.  He ended up finishing in 3:53:40, and was happy with the time on such a hilly course.  Jon Narron, who had crushed his goal of breaking an hour in the 10K the day before, ran with me a bit as a way to cheer me on.

The last three miles were brutal.  I had left my shirt with Cindy back at mile twenty.  Now a cold rain had begun.  I no longer had the energy to enjoy all the fun pig-related signs.  I was down to half-walk/half-run regiment.  I set a final goal to run the last mile.  I got tunnel vision, and every step my legs said STOP STOP STOP.  I literally could not bear the thought of running 24 miles of a marathon and quiting, so I kept moving.  Step by step I plodded on, hoping the last mile was all downhill.  People kept lying to me from the sidelines "You are looking great, Daniel!"  "You've got this, man!"  Or the worst lie, "This is the easy part."  

I went into a sort of shambling step that could be called a run at 25.2, and found that the last mile was not downhill.  I did not know that a mile could be so long.  I pressed on, and even picked up the pace as I entered the crowds cheering at the last few hundred yards.  My wife was in the crowds somewhere, but I did not see her.  I crossed the finish line.  I always remember the finish line.  This one hurt, but I did cross it.  My time was 4:53:49, but I crossed the finish line.  

The other Truckin' Runners fared better than I did.  Cathy Cogswell beat her goal in the 10K, and Pete Mycek maxed out the bench press at the Pump-N-Run with 20 reps that lowered his 10K time of 45:56 to where we won his division, and medalled as the third male overall.

I like that it makes perfect sense.

I had prepared less for this marathon than any other, and I had ran my slowest time.  I am encouraged that if I prepare enough, I can break 4:00 in 2014.

Race Report REV3 Triathlon

REV3 Triathlon

Anderson SC, October 2012

Two reefers, a van, a tanker, and three bobtails were parked in the corner of a busy parking lot that was not really designed for truck parking. Your local Walmart? A NASCAR race? Would you believe it was the parking area for the racers at the REV3 Triathlon in Anderson SC?

The first annual triathlon started in 1978 in Hawaii. The race incorporated three events, a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike race, and a run of 26.2 miles. Since then, the popularity of the sport, with varying distances, has grown every year, and was included in the Olympics in 2000. Perhaps many recreational runners and cyclists looked at the race as a new challenge to replace the 10K runs or century rides they completed in the past. But truck drivers? Who would have anticipated truckers competing in races that can strain the best of athletes? Pilot/Flying J, in cooperation with US Xpress's Highway to Health thought so. In summer of 2012 they posted on the U.S. Xpress Drivers facebook page that drivers would have a chance to compete in a triathlon in October.

I had tried out a couple of the shorter, sprint-length, triathlons in the past couple of years and I was excited that I could be in a longer event.  Especially a longer event where Pilot/Flying J would pay my entry fee.  I did have a few concerns, though.  I had very little chance to swim while driving over-the-road.  I did not own one of the race-style road bikes used in triathlons.  Most importantly,  I was planning to run a marathon in the month of October. 

Do not get the impression I am some kind of fitness fanatic that happens to drive a truck, though. As a third-generation trucker, I was not surprised that when I first went into driving, I began to put on some weight. Driving is a demanding profession, and at the end of a long, stressful day I only wanted to grab a bite to eat and hit the sleeper berth. When I met my wife in 1989, and we started driving team, the challenges only increased. Driving around 22 hours a day, we did not have the time, nor the energy, to exercise and learn to eat right. My weight went up way past the point that I did not like what I saw looking back at me in the shower-room mirror. I hit a point where my energy was low, my back hurt all the time, and I would get winded just by climbing up a few stairs. We decided to make some changes after a trip to Alaska in 1992.

A short hike will allow visitors to Exit Glacier, on Alaska's Kenai Peninsula, to climb up to the ice fields. The hike is considered moderate in difficulty. We wanted to see the ice fields, but knew that “moderate” may have been beyond our limits. We had always planned to get back in shape “someday.” For the first time, a possible adventure had come up, and we were not fit enough to enjoy it. Out of our frustration, we decided to set a goal. We wrote our goal on a piece of paper and posted it where we would see it eveyday. We wanted "To be ready for whatever may be in store for us!" We began a journey that involved learning about nutrition and exercise. The small changes we made became bigger changes and then bigger goals. About thirteen years later, I set a huge goal. I wanted to train for, and run, a marathon.

Most marathon training programs call for building up weekly miles of running. I changed my priorities to suit my goal. If the truck was stopped, I was running. My weekly miles progressed up to twenty miles per week, then thirty, then forty. Although most runners would consider me woefully under-trained, I completed the Rock-N-Roll Marathon in Phoenix in January of 2006. Running turned out to be a great way for me to exercise on the truck. It was efficient, I could get my heart rate up quickly. Running provided a great break from driving. Only minimal gear was required, so not much space in the truck was taken up with exercise equipment. I ended up running another marathon in 2009, and was training for the third when I read about the REV3 triathlon.

We got a kick out of seeing the trucks parked in the racer's area. We wondered if the other racers thought that it took several semi-loads of equipment to put on a race. One of the trucks looked familiar. A distinctive owner-operator's paint-job made it stand out. Cindy remembered that we had met the driver at another race, the “Big Rig 5K” at the Great American Trucking Show in Dallas the year before. We also saw the “fittest trucker” in the America, a triathlete named Siphiwe Baleka, who now works for the health division of Prime Transportation.  We received a warm welcome from the representatives of Pilot/Flying J. Dave Parmly asked me if I wanted some “racing skins.” Sure. What the heck are racing skins? It turns out they are a set of clothes for racing triathlons.

I had somehow I managed to get in a couple of swim workouts since summer. I had also acquired a road bike on Craigslist. I had finished my marathon without hurting myself. As we arrived at the race area I was sore, unprepared, and with a bike I had only ridden two miles. But I had a goal. I was going to finish an Olympic-length triathlon.

The first part of the race is the swim part. The length is 1500 meters, a couple hundred yards short of a mile. I swam in high school, and planned to get out near the front of the group of racers I was starting with, then I would not have too much traffic to deal with.  We were to swim out from shore, around four large buoys, and back to shore. I must have forgotten that I was not in high school anymore, that I had not raced much in the water in 30 years, and (oh yeah) I was a sprinter in high school, not a distance guy.  By the end I was thrilled to have just survived as I moved into the transition area to start the 40k bike part. Cindy cheered me on as I washed down lake water with some Gatorade  got on my used bike and headed out to see if we could survive for 25 miles in hilly South Carolina.

I had paid $400 for my bike. While shopping I had discovered that racing bikes cost anywhere from $800 to $4000, and most used bikes were close to $1500. I clicked pretty well with the cycling part of the race, and started counting the total value of the bikes I passed. Me and my "vintage" Cannondale passed about $40,000 of fancier race and tri-bikes. About two miles from the end of the cycling part, I finally had a mechanical challenge. The front chain came off the gear. Reaching down, I thought I could get it back on while rolling 22 mph. After a few tries, I decided to stop and fix the chain before I hurt someone. Especially me. Then when I stopped, I forgot that I had on toe-clip pedals that keep your feet on the bike. I just barely kept from crashing to the ground before finding out that I could not lift my fatigued leg over the seat of the bike on the first try. So much for dominating the cycle course. I looked more like a Three Stooges routine. Chuckling at myself, I quickly got the chain on and took off again. 

Cindy was waiting for me at the second transition area. She encouraged me while I dismounted the bike, grabbed some more Gatorade, and took off onto the 10K (6.2 miles) running course. Six miles did not sound that tough, after all the marathon training. I started off pretty strong, but then walked through a few of the aid stations and up one of the hills. During the run, some of the racers who were doing the longer Half-length triathlon caught up to me. They had started an hour before me, had just swam, biked, and ran, about 65 miles, and were blowing my doors off. I may have walked more, but a couple of them encouraged me to keep it up. As I rounded the corner and saw the finish line, I regained some energy from somewhere and finished the run a bit faster than I had started.

Swim 43:52, T1 5:27, Bike 1:27:39, T2 1:19, Run 1:02:39
 Finish 3:20:56

I had reached my goal. I finished two races in the month of October. I am always excited to see the programs rolled out by Mary Augustino, Wellness Coordinator with US Xpress, that teach us to set goals and learn to eat right. I have come a long way from being seventy pounds heavier, addicted to tobbaco, and unable to run a single mile. It all goes back to setting small goals, learning consistency, then setting new goals. My wife and I are glad to be working for a company that continues in a leadership role as an advocate for driver health. The Highway to Health brings to drivers an awareness that they can take their fitness goals beyond just losing a few pounds. Maybe I will even get a chance to try that hike up Exit Glacier someday.