Category: Race Recap

The third and final leg of the Blue Crab Bolt trail running (10K) series kicked off on a beautiful late-August morning.  60-degree mornings this time of year are a rarity in these parts and are to be cherished.  It simply couldn’t be more perfect for a runner.

This is the last of the three races in the 2017 series.  I was disappointed in my performance in the prior two events and had low expectations for this one, particularly after last week’s triathlon.  The race directors Ex2 Adventures runs a fine event and it keeps a points tally across the three.  Coming in, I was in sixth place and needing one heck of a fast run to climb up in the standings.

The Little Bennett course starts off a bit quirky.  We break into a fairly narrow road, turn a corner 180 degrees, and come back the other way on a different gravel road.  There isn’t a heck of a lot of room to navigate around people, so starting position is absolutely critical.

I had found a decent enough pack to stick with, though once we got into the single-tracking trail (1/4 mile or so in), I was trapped behind a small pack that was slower than I wanted to run.  Unfortunately, between narrowness and rockiness, there’s just not a lot of passing room for the first couple of miles.

The first third of the course is down to the stream, then back up a moderately steep, rocky hill.  I managed to get past a couple of people (including two kids running the 5k) on the downhill, but couldn’t get past the other three until we were nearly at the top of the uphill portion.  I passed the final person in a field at the top of the hill.

The second third of the course is along a gravel access road…wide and flat.  This part of the course is made for a marathoner.  After getting to that point in a modest 8:10 minute/mile pace, I ran the next two at 6:40, mostly along that road.  It’s not the most interesting trail run section.  I’m sure the purists hate that part, but I was happy to have the ability to shut my brain down for a mile or so and just run.

The last third is some pretty steep hills, up and down, but nothing as bad as some of the worst at the Seneca Creek.  There’s a massive stream crossing about a half-mile before the finish…the water was up to my knees.  I don’t love that part, as the climb up the hill with wet shoes on rocky terrain feels awful to me–heavy feet, slippery tread.  I seem to get through it every time, but it’s my least favorite part of these events.

I was on pace for a 51ish minute time, but had issues with my right shoelace.  It came untied twice during the race.  I double-knotted it at the start, but after it came loose the first time, I just singled it.  Mistake as it came apart again.  Ugh.

Ended up with a time around 54 minutes, which still beats my time from last year by two minutes, but wasn’t enough to get me into the top 5 today or for the series.  My second straight 6th place finish doomed me to a 6th place finish for the series.

Honestly, I’m not sure why that bothers me.  Yes, it stinks to fall one place off of the five-person podium for the second-straight trail race (and the series), but my fitness seems to be coming back to me, I’ve definitely improved over last year, and there’s a chance I have a good run next month in my next Marathon.  I should feel better about it than I do.

In any case, I’ll probably sign up for this series again next year.  It’s a nice diversion from the miles of pavement and a reasonable test of my fitness year-over-year.  Again, Ex2 Adventures runs a first-class event.  The setup is as good or better as some smaller marathons I’ve run.  It’s a real pleasure to run this series.

About an hour after I finished, my wife posed the obvious question:  How did the triathlon compare with a marathon? Best I can answer is that it’s just different.

The Luray International Triathlon–an Olympic distance event (1500m swim/41km bike/10k run)–was certainly grueling, but it wasn’t as much of a grind as a marathon.  It was a lengthy test of physical fitness, but somehow didn’t come with the sense of accomplishment of a marathon.  Did it feel good to finish?  Of course, but it also felt about the same as a well-run half-marathon, rather than a full marathon.

That’s not to take anything away from the Luray Triathlon, which was one of the best organized, friendliest events I’ve ever taken part in, and that’s saying something.  From registration, through the constant communication about the race, to the packet pickup, which let me shift from an ‘age group’ division to a novice division suited to first-timers like me, through the race morning and completion, it was really top notch.  The course was superb, apart from having to loop the bike and run courses twice (which I understand to be relatively common in triathlons, where space is at a premium).  Even the race photos are free (wish that was true of every race).  I thoroughly enjoyed it and plan to be back next year.

The race morning was an early wake-up call, as my family and I camped in the Shenandoah’s, rather than more sensibly in a hotel in Luray.  It was not the best pre-race rest, but the kids enjoyed it, which made it worth it.  The 40ish minute drive down from the mountain to Arrowhead Lake was glorious, with early morning sun breaking over the peaks in the distance.

Upon arrival, the parking was organized and not far from the start. It was about 65 degrees, which warranted a sweatshirt until it was race time, but dragging my bike and all of my triathlon gear over to the transition area was enough to warm me up.  That’s by far one of the biggest differences between running and triathloning (sp?)–there’s SO MUCH stuff for the triathlon.  Bike, helmet, shoes, socks, glasses, towel, belt for the number, number for bike and helmet, gels, water bottle…not to mention the stuff that is stored on my bike, such as an extra tube and inflator (CO2).  I ended up forgetting my gels, which didn’t cause too much of a concern, because I had an excellent pit crew (Mrs. and kids), so I could pick it up after the swim from them.

That’s another benefit of the triathlon over the marathon: it’s much more spectator-friendly.  They could just park in one place in the shade and see me start the swim, finish the swim, head out on my bike, return on the bike, and set out for the run.  They could have seen me six or seven times during the race if they were able to figure out the course, which is impossible on most marathon courses.  It was great to have them there and certainly helped my time!

The swim makes most people the most nervous.  The way they managed it, with everyone starting in the water in waves (no pun intended) was simple.  We started off 3 minutes apart from each other, and as a novice, my small group was in the back of the pack.  The water was above 80, so no wetsuit for anyone.  Not a problem as I don’t have one anyway.

The first swimmer came back in under 21 minutes, which meant we got to see her just finish before our time came to go.  I set out with the herd, and stayed to the outside to ensure I wasn’t getting in anyone’s way.  I felt fast out of the gate, but consciously slowed a bit to find a sustainable rhythm.  I caught the group before us before the first of 4 turns (three right and one left).  Sighting the turn buoys was by far the hardest part of this, my first open water competitive swim, but I found that by staying to the outside, I could make a clear path to the buoy and just keep driving, without having to turn much to get around the corners.

The finish came up faster than I was expecting, and I felt strong–skipping steps up to the transition area and grabbing the gels from the Mrs. en-route. Transition was slow for me as I put my running shoes (and socks) on there before the bike.  Sticky socks on wet, grassy feet…ew.  In any case, I made it–even remembering to double-knot my shoes–and remembered my helmet and glasses and off I went.  Running with a bicycle, if you haven’t tried it, is a rather unnatural thing to do.  Thankfully, I was near the exit of the transition for the bike leg, so I didn’t have far to go until I cross the “mount bike here” line and hopped on.

The bike leg also seemed to go pretty well.  I had set a pre-race target of 1:30 for that leg, which requires a 17mph pace.  What threw me the most was that the course seemed almost all up-hill.  Of course, that’s not the case, as any course that meets back at the start must, by definition, have the same up and down elevations, but you cover the downhill parts so quickly that relative to the uphills, they go MUCH faster.  The worst part of the course is a nasty steep half-mile in the approach to the finish that nearly broke me in bottom gear.  It was a killer and told me that, if I ever want to do this again, I need more hill training.

In any case, I finished, hooked my bike back on the rail in the transition area, and had the 5th fastest transition of the entire field.  Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone could have done it faster than I did as I was ready to get running apart from clipping my bib on and grabbing my cap –performed while moving.  That’s one advantage of wearing running shoes on the bike (likely the only one).

So, in theory, this should be where I dominate.  I run all the freakin’ time.  I ran a marathon last month (the second of three, this year).  I run trail 10Ks.  What I don’t do, apparently, is run races after completing an hour and half on a bike.  My legs were like jelly.  There was no energy.  My muscles were barely firing.  I “ran” a 9:00ish mile pace for the first 2 miles or so and could feel the muscles right above my knee start ratcheting toward a cramp with every step.  I had to jog/walk the rest of the way, resulting in the slowest 10k I’ve completed in 7+ years.  It was awful, but there was no choice in the matter–my legs were cramped and only injury awaited if I pushed too hard.

I finished the race 10 minutes slower than my overall goal time and felt good about my accomplishment–my first triathlon in the books.  I ended up getting second place in the Novice group, picking up medal and a nice locally-made pottery tumbler in the process.  The food was decent, though there was lots of bottled (cold) water and gatorade at the finish…much appreciated.

Overall, I really enjoyed it…more fun than a marathon, though less of a feeling of accomplishment at the end.  I’ll almost surely be back next year, and now that I know what to expect, I’m setting a 30-minute target off of my 2017 time.   It’s there for the taking if I can take 2-4 minutes off my swim time, 10-15 minutes off my bike time, and 11-20 minutes off my running time.  All feasible with a bit more training.

I can’t recommend this race enough for a first timer or for a seasoned vet.  Again, everyone was so nice and helpful to a true novice.  It was just a great all-around experience and has opened my eyes to adding 1-2 triathlons of this distance to my annual calendar.

 

10 kilometers should be 10 kilometers, whether on road, gravel, or whatever surface.  For reasons I have yet to figure out, a 10k on a rough trail is a significantly different endeavor than a 10k on a flat road or gravel path.  The second leg of the three-leg Blue Crab Bolt is my fifth competitive trail run and second at this track, so I know what to expect at this point, but man, it’s always a struggle.  I haven’t quite figured out how I can complete a marathon at under an 8:00/mile clip, yet throw a few roots in there and hills and stream-crossings and I’m a wreck at more than a minute/mile slower.

The second race at this three-race series takes place at Schaeffer Farm, a mountain bike Mecca adjacent to (in?) the Seneca Creek (Maryland) State Park recreation area.  Part of the course is literally a farm, which is where this course begins.

The course starts off in a grassy field (also the parking lot) as we wrap around the cars to the dirt road we arrived on.  This leg passes a ‘model farm’ with geese and a small veg garden.  It’s unusual and interesting, but not really a “trail” yet.  About a quarter mile in, the course darts to the left and onto the trail.  There’s still some jostling to be had here as we’ll be single-tracking for the next 2 miles, and I felt bad cutting someone off slightly.

Still, even after the frenetic start, I ended up in the trails behind some slightly slower runners with no passing lanes.  I was fine slotting in behind them, as I wasn’t feeling great that morning, though running behind people on trail runs continues to scare me to death–there’s just not a lot of forward visibility, which leaves me more susceptible to unseen roots, rocks and steps.

I was able to pass this group near the end of the split off between 5k and 10k runners (nearly 2 miles in) and had pretty clear daylight the rest of the way.  At the 2.5 mile mark, we leave the trail and bolt into a cornfield.  Last year, there was no corn, but this year, it was a tunnel.  Very cool part of the course, though it’s a pretty steep hill, the ground is grassy and uneven and I was recalling that this was the exact spot where I turned my ankle last year.

Back into the single-tracking at mile 3, but I was pretty much on my own.  Nobody in front of me, nobody behind me.  It was strange to be in a race with 100s of people and feel so alone.  I found some company around mile 4 and turned my ankle at about that point.  Darn.  Not sure what it is about this course, but two years, two ankle sprains.  It didn’t feel THAT bad, so I kept going. It was sore though.

The last two miles were fairly uneventful, but slow.  There’s some steep climbs, a lot of roots, and a fallen tree that required a climb to get over (at mile 5).  The course also meets up with the 5k finish, which is a real soul-crusher.  They turn back to the field and finish, we have another mile or so to go through the trees.  Ugh.  So close to the end.

I finished a couple of minutes faster than last year, in 6th place for my group.  A bit of a frustrating finish as the top-5 get on the podium in this series.  I was minutes behind the 5th place runner, so it wasn’t like a big kick at the end would have solved it.  Still, these races leave me feeling pretty demoralized.

Post-race buffet is top-notch for a race of this size.  Breakfast burritos and all kinds of fruit and snacks.  There’s an entertaining kids fun run and a slow-moving, thorough awards ceremony too (lots of age groups across the two races to get through).

The race organizers tally ‘points’ based on your finish in each of the races, with a top 5 series of awards for the top finishers across the series.  I took 3rd last year in my group, and I’m headed toward that type of finish in the last race.  35 points from the first two races and I’m in 6th or 7th place with one race to go.  It’s a war of attrition as much as a test of speed, so a top 6 finish should see me into the top 5 for the series.  One week after my first triathlon…will I be able to go?  We’ll see.

 

Race Summary:  A very small Marathon field with breathtaking coastal scenery and rolling hills.  Open-to-traffic roads and a pouring rain for most of the course–common for this part of the island–were a drawback, as was the limited pre- and post-race support.  Still a great destination run if you want something out of the way.

The kids were headed off to sleep away camp for four weeks, leaving the Mrs. and I free to wallow in our collective loneliness in some far-off exotic land.  Seemed like a good time to sneak in a race on my march toward completing a marathon on every continent!

This was a race selection based on two criteria-  Had to be in Africa, Asia or Australia, and had to be in the time window when our kids were away.  Nestled in the Indian Ocean, about a 5-hour flight East from Johannesburg, South Africa, is a resort island called Mauritius.  Once a French colony, then a British one, it is a small island that has three primary industries–tourism, sugar, and finance.  The Marathon was scheduled for July 16, so it was perfectly scheduled.  A good chance to get some beach time in during their summer, while also getting in an run in an exotic locale!

This race is tiny.  Before now, Easter Island (Rapa Nui) was the smallest race I’d run, but that had about 50 more people than this one.  Still, Asics and LUX* Resorts, some pretty big names were signed on as sponsors, so I gave it a shot.

Registration was through ROAG, a South American race management portal/company.  This was the first race I’ve participated in that required a doctor’s signature on a medical waiver, which took some time to produce.  That hurdle aside, registration was fairly straight-forward.  Didn’t love the ROAG site and had a panic about whether or not my registration went through in the weeks leading up to the race, but all was well.

I broke one of my own cardinal rules about travel marathons and didn’t stay at or adjacent to the ‘home’ hotel of the race.  This is ABSOLUTELY a best practice–particularly when heading overseas.  You want to stay as close to the start line as possible.  Why deal with the extra stress?  In this case, every post I read about the island suggested that the south coast (where the race was held) was rainy this type of year, and that the East Coast, the windier side of the island, usually had warm sunny weather.  ‘Mauritius is only 26 miles wide and their roads are paved,’ I told myself, booking in at a posh resort in Belle Mare.  Unknowingly, I had committed myself to a 90-minute drive each way to the start/finish as well as for the bib pickup the day before.

The error of this sunk in when we arrived at the Tamassa Hotel in Bel Ombre in our rented car on the Saturday before the race.  We had both been the victims of some kind of food-related illness Thursday night into Friday (spent all day Friday in our hotel room), so we were both just blasted when we arrived at the hotel.  We even looked into booking a night there, but was told they were all full.  Sigh.

In hindsight, I have no clue why they couldn’t do bib pickup at the start line for those who couldn’t get to the hotel.  There was no ‘expo,’ and, again, this race was tiny: only 105 participants.  Surely they could have managed this.  The handout was a cheap sponsor-logo string pack, the bib and the tech shirt–a nice Asics blue number in their high-end hexagonal pattern cooling fabric, though not as interesting as some of the others I’ve received.

To get back to the South Coast for the 6:30 AM start required a 4:00 AM wake-up call, a quick dressing in the dark, and on the road by 4:30.   I was feeling pretty much recovered from my illness, but spent most of the 90-minute drive (on the left side of the road, in the dark, in intermittent rain showers) cursing the decision to not stay at the Tamassa.

On the bright side, parking was easy.  The race started at St. Felix Public Beach, one of the largest public beaches on the island, so there was a large lot.  It was pitch black and raining lightly, but I found the finish line and the small tent, where they scanned my bib and yelled encouraging (?) things to us over the bull-horn.  At 6:15 we moved as a group about 100 meters up to the road for the start.  I happened upon the only other Americans in the race there–two nice guys from Phoenix.

The course was amazing or terrible, depending on your perspective.  The entire course was along (in?) a main road that hugged the coast.  24 or so miles of coastal views, palm trees, sugar cane fields…it was one of the more fantastic settings I’ve ever run in.  The only trouble was that we were running in the same direction as traffic (on the left side of the road) and the roads were not closed for this race.  Therefore, there was legitimate anxiety about getting struck for most of this race.  People wearing headphones were suicidal.  The drivers went by quickly, seemed to care little for the fact that a race was going on, and seemed happy to come as close as possible to us without actually making contact.  There were police along the way, but only to control traffic at intersections.

The track featured two turnarounds.  The starting line points East, and continues about 4km to Ramble, where there is a turnaround.  Then, you pass the start line again and continue West about 20km to Le Morne, where you turn back around toward the start/finish area.  The half-marathoners went off at about the midway point of the race toward Le Morne (Westward), then turned East at Le Morne, meaning we saw them coming at us at about the 18km mark despite their start a half-hour after us.

The second turnaround was 5km past the half-way mark, creating a strange ’emotional’ midpoint to the race that was past the actual halfway point.  I actually liked this, as it made the finish seem much closer than it really was.

Remember how I mentioned that we were staying on the Eastern Shore to avoid the rain.  Well, we were right about that part of the planning.  It pretty much poured for 30/42km.  Poured.  Soaking, sideways rain.  When it wasn’t pouring, there was a steady drizzle.  It was not pleasant.  (on an aside, the Mrs. decided to stay back at the hotel, rather than get a lift to the finish.  Wise move.  It was sunny and warm the whole day, and there was really no place for her to hang out at the race that was dry.).  There were also pretty much zero crowd noise along the course–a few family members who were cheering on a runner near me (I saw them multiple times) and the occasional thumbs up from a race organization team member.

So, having been sick two days before (fever, nausea), facing 30 hours of travel over the next two days back to the states, and completely soaked (water pouring out of shoes soaked), I dialed it way back and decided to take in the scenery, rather than push for a time.  This was not the Boston Qualifier race, the rolling hills made it challenging (though there were no heartbreak hill-type mountains to overcome along the way), and the setting, again, was beautiful.  I ran when I felt like running.  I walked when I felt like walking.  I spent the last few miles walking along with Ajesh, a 4th Generation Mauritian (one of only 12 locals in the race) and got a spectacular history lesson about the island and its people.  Well worth it from that standpoint.

The on-course support was pretty good.  Water from 5-gallon bottles poured into cups (I brought my own water and refilled the bottle along the way), bananas, and some jelly to stop chaffing (good luck applying that in the rain).  Instead of Gatorade or Lucozade, they had Coca Cola, which seemed odd to me.  The tables were fairly well spaced out.  Some of the stations had volunteers handing the drinks out (some were pretty much refill-only as the rain forced the volunteers under cover).  I was glad I had my bottle as I could take a drink whenever I wanted.

The finish was interesting.  They had an inflatable “standard-marathon-issue” finish line.  No time counter was evident (maybe put away because of the rain?).  Everyone’s chip-timing stickers had come off our bibs in the rain, but they were recording times on clipboards and had a monitor with everyone’s times on it.  The medals were a bit disappointing.  Just wooden (bamboo?) discs with the “Mauritius Marathon” logo screen-printed on it.  The ribbon was really thin, but at least in the four colors of the Mauritian flag to make it a bit ‘local.’  Would have been nice to have a Dodo bird-shaped thing on it (official mascot of the island) or something a bit more interesting.  It’s different, I grant them that, but pales in comparison to the simple Moai-shaped medal received at Easter Island or even the glass medallion from Delaware.

The bag of food at the end was similarly a disappointment.  Positives included a bottle of water and coconut juice.  Negatives included a bun with some shredded cheese-like stuff in it.  There was no real post-race festivity, as it was just chucking down rain.  I grabbed the bag and went to my towel and dry shirt in the rental car, readying myself for the long drive back to Belle Mare.

Overall, this was an interesting, memorable race.  I was surprised it wasn’t my slowest marathon as I really didn’t set out with any kind of time expectation.  I felt relatively fine afterward, which was my goal.  The flights back hurt, my recovery runs are going reasonably well with some minor aches, but I feel generally validated at my decision to go slow and take it all in.

I can’t quite recommend this marathon to people, though Mauritius was beautiful and we wouldn’t mind coming back.  So long as your expectations are measured, it was an enjoyable race.  It’s growing every year (slowly, but surely), and seems to get better from what I’ve heard, but they have a bit more work to do to get it anywhere close to the level of organization I’ve seen from similarly-sized events around the world.

 

 

 

This is my second year participating in this 3-leg trail series.  It’s an event marked by strong organization, a collegial atmosphere, and a pretty solid post-race spread.  Overall, a super way to spend a few Saturday mornings in the Summer.

Last year, the Blue Crab Bolt, a three-leg series of 5k or 10k trail races was my introduction to trail running.  It was my first experience on the podium, as I finished third overall in my age group.  I signed up pretty late for it this year, having confirmed that all three races fell into decent spots on our travel schedule.  None of them are ideal for my marathon race schedule (or triathlon schedule this year), but they were fun.  No time goals, let’s just enjoy!

For this year’s return to Seneca Creek State Park, I wasn’t as nervous as I was last year, but was interested to see if I found it any easier than the year before. In summary, no.

It rained a lot the day before, so I was surprised that the course was in tremendous shape.  Not much mud, some wet roots, only a couple of puddles, but nothing severe.  The races in this series get more technical as you go, so this was a welcome experience.

The morning starts with a trudge across the damp field to the start line to pick up the bib and shirt (for the first race…they only give one shirt for the series, which is fine).  Then, you trudge back across the damp field back to your car to return the shirt and then back to the start.  Maybe give the shirts out at the end?  I don’t know.  I’d think there’s a better way of doing this.

The start for all of their races is in the middle of a field.  This allows the runners to space out a bit before single-tracking begins in the woods.  The field lasts about 150 yards up-hill, followed by a quarter-mile or so along the road.  It’s a bit of a mad dash at the start to get into a position where you have some space in front of you and don’t get slowed up by others once passing opportunities become limited.   I definitely went out too fast, so the rest of the race is just trying to find a groove and recover.

The course is pretty great:  lots of single-tracking, only a couple of must-walk technical spots where the rocks are slippery, no crazy hills that break your spirit.  90% of the race is under canopy, so the sun is a non-factor (that changes in the next two races).  The second half of the course hugs the man-made lake in the middle of the park.  Last year, there was a grievous and embarrassing race error for the organizers as they sent us to the left at the lake instead of the right.  They were extra careful this time around and had multiple marshals keeping us on the right course.

My time was slightly disappointing, but I was happy to have it done.  Like last year, no podium in the first leg, but hopefully I’ll climb up the standings in legs two and three.

The post-race selection is wonderful for these races.  Breakfast burritos, watermelon, oranges, bananas, ample snack-type food, and some other sugary things were all on the buffet.  They could use a bit more water (always), and I hated the gatorade flavor (grape, blech), though others seemed to like it.

Additionally, I’m always impressed by the race group’s same-day awards for overall and age-group winners.  Going to 5th place for the 5k and 10k entrants for each group is quite a feat, and it’s nice that they have prizes (pint glasses) for all the winners.  I still have my 3rd place and 5th place glasses from last year and use them now and again.

Two more races to go.  One two weeks after the marathon (not ideal) and one one week after the triathlon (not ideal), but they’re a lot of fun, so I’m looking forward to them.

 

This is a model for how races should be managed: efficient, professional, runner-focused and electric.  The town embraces the race and comes out in droves to support it.  The finish, in the horserace track stadium, is pretty special.  It’s a pleasure to run year-after-year.  Flat and fast, this is a great target for a half marathon personal best. 

Coming on the heels of setting my new PR in the half marathon in March at the Rock ‘n’ Roll DC, AND my new marathon PR at the Delaware Coastal in April, I wanted to find a half to really see what I could do at the distance.  Qualifying for Boston is very much in play if I can somehow get my half marathon time to extend over a second 13.1.  I needed a course I could push for the entire half-marathon distance.

I ran the Frederick Running Festival three years ago on the path to the ‘Nut Job,’ which is a second medal you receive for participating in the twilight 5K on Saturday evening and the half marathon the next morning.  It was notable, not so much for the time (1:54:32), but really for the fact that I participated in both races, then had a hockey game Sunday afternoon.  It was also the first leg of the “King Crab” challenge from promoter CSE that you earn for also completing the Baltimore 10-miler and Baltimore Marathon.

Frederick was, by far, the best of those three races.  It’s only 45 minutes or so from me, but it feels like a long way from Washington DC.  It’s a small-town, really, with a minor league baseball team (Frederick Keys), a quaint, steeple-dotted downtown, and an old-school county fairgrounds, which serves as the home base for the race.  The two-day running festival, culminating with the half marathon on Sunday morning, is truly a source of community pride.  The residents cheer from their steps, come to the curbside, and generally make the runners feel incredibly welcomed.  It’s part of the allure.  It makes it feel like more of an event.

I was able to register a week before the event, which meant no personalized bib and no opportunity for an early bib pickup in Rockville, MD.  Thankfully, they do offer limited same-day pickup AND the opportunity to pick up your shirt after the race.  Double bonus!  The registration on the website was great and the shirt, a long-sleeve black jacket-type thing with a zipper neck and the Maryland flag down the side was really one of the nicer ones.  CSE does this very well, as their Baltimore 10-miler shirt is equally good.  Much better than the typical throw-away tech shirt.

It’s also a relatively fast course.  No backbreaking hills (unlike Baltimore), only one turnaround (around mile 11) where they had to find an extra 3/4 of a mile, and usually cool and dry weather this time of year.  2017 was no exception, though we did have a touch of rain for a few miles in the middle of the race.  Not inhibiting at all.

My plan for this race…just go for it.  Start out at a sub-7-minute pace and fight to keep it as long as I could.  I was aiming for some time under 1:35 and the feeling that I had something left in the tank, which would translate into a 3:10 marathon if I could sustain it for another lap.

My initial five splits were fast.  The course starts out on some rather industrial/commercial roads (toward the baseball stadium and along the cemetery) before darting into the downtown area.  You’re downtown until about mile 4, then spend the next 4 miles running through some lovely neighborhoods and through Hood College.  I was feeling great at this point, but my splits were in the 6:20 range, which was way too fast–no way I was going to sustain that for another 7 miles.

From mile 8, you enter some additional residential areas and then back on to a larger highway-type road (Schifferstadt Blvd) for two miles of pain.  This stretch features the turnaround and a moderate hill as a bridge climbs over Carrol Creek (near the airport).  I slowed my pace down a bit on this stretch to make sure I’d have enough to run the finish.  I was running 8-minute miles along here with maybe even a 9-minute mile up the hill.

The finish is a few turns before entering the horse track, where you do a half-lap around the mile-long course with music blaring and a sizable crowd in the grandstand along the home stretch.  It was a bit of soft terrain, having had some rain the day before, but you feel so good at this point that you’re basically flying.

Finish:  a new PR of 1:31:08.  Wow.  Had I not slowed down on the last three miles, sub-1:30 was in the cards.  Why do runners do this to themselves?  I ran hard, had very little left in reserve (which, yes, suggests that there’s no way I can carry that for another half-marathon distance), felt good…why do I beat myself up over the the lost 68 seconds?  It’s insanity really.

In any case, I was proud of my finish, a 6:57 pace for a half marathon, 7/211 in my age group and 74/3829 runners overall (top 2%).  Someday I’ll crack the 1:30 barrier…it will probably be here.

Post race was fine, though I wasn’t able to stay very long.  Free beer (passed, as I was driving back home), some decent food and snacks, plus food for purchase.  The infield of the track was a bit damp, so it wasn’t that appealing to stay, but it was fine.  I picked up my medal (which was very nice and included a bottle opener, which is both quaint and ghetto), my shirt (had to hustle to get the right size…not sure why this was a challenge, and headed the 100 yards to my car.  Again, really well organized all around.

Overall, I can’t recommend this race enough.  I have three DC-area half marathons that I really enjoy: Parks and Navy-Air Force in September and this one in May.  All very different races, but this might be my favorite.

A medium-scale race that starts on the National Mall and traverses some of DC’s lesser-known neighborhoods.  It’s early in the season, so the weather is usually cold, but this was REALLY cold.  Still, a well-organized, thrilling half in the Nation’s Capital.

This was my second time running the RnR Half in DC.  Last time was a ‘coaching’ run, helping my friend Kristina through her first half.  This time was a somewhat spontaneous decision to run (signed up a week before).  I was training well, had a few friends running, and thought it would be a decent test to see where my fitness was heading into the Spring marathon.

As is traditional with the RnR series, it’s a well-oiled machine.  Registration on the website is flawless, bib pickup, while a bit of a pain to get to the DC Armory, was similarly well-organized.  Pro-tip: Sneak out at lunch time instead of waiting until end of day Friday, when half of the participants show up to collect their bibs.  There’s even a reasonable sized expo that tempted me into nearly buying a few things I didn’t really need.  Full points.

Race morning is a challenge in DC these days, as the Metro is no longer opens extra early to accommodate the start.  The race organizers backed the start up a bit to enable some Metro commuting, and it was critical to get to the station at opening to get on the first train.  With an on-time arrival, there was about 30-40 minutes before the start.

Though the calendar said March, this was still very much Winter in the Nation’s capital.  The starting temp was around 18F and it didn’t really warm up much during the morning.  There was also a breeze in case anyone thought they might warm up along the way.

I had a bunch of warm, dry clothes packed in my bag and found the row of bag-check trucks.  I faced a game-time decision as to whether to keep or ditch my jacket.  I decided to keep it, which turned out to be a wise decision, as I was happy to have it for most of the race.

The start is a rolling one, emulating a race much bigger than this really is.  13000 or so half-marathon finishers (and a couple of thousand of marathoners, I believe) at a massive starting procession along Independence Ave., facing West toward the Lincoln Memorial.  The starting groups went off in 2-minute intervals with rock music (of course) and a very enthusiastic starter.  I have to say, it’s one of the better starting set-ups in the area.

Back to the full marathon for a minute.  I truly believe they only have it to be able to say they have it–a feature of every race in the series.  I have never met anyone who has run it and don’t really see why anyone would.  The full marathon breaks off from the half at the 25-mile mark and meanders around Anacostia Park in what must be one of the least exciting marathon paths in the country.  Given that the weather is pretty unpredictable, that 95% of the participants only do the half, and that the feature band at the finish (The Family Stone this year) starts playing well before the 4-hour mark…there’s just not a lot going for the 26.2-mile distance here..  It’s also not a significant enough Marathon that people will plan it as their first (compared with the Marine Corps Marathon in October) and not notable enough in the calendar for experienced runners to travel in and work it in to their schedules.  Really, this is a half marathon event that also happens to have a full-marathon option.

The course starts off heading West on K Street, then wraps around the Lincoln Memorial behind the Kennedy Center with kind of a turnaround to the other side of the divided highway.  It then continues North up Rock Creek Parkway to the 6-mile mark, at which you climb the only notable hill on the course.  There’s an awesome veteran’s memorial association on that hill that holds flags, offers high-fives and generally cheers you on to the summit at Calvert Avenue.  It’s one of the course highlights.

From there, it’s east-bound through Adams Morgan, Shaw, Howard University and what used to be called “Northwest One,” but I believe is now NoMa in light of its recent gentrification.  The finishing stretch is along H Street, then on to RFK stadium for a pretty interesting, slight up-hill finish.  While you don’t finish in the stadium, the finish turns a corner around a parking lot adjacent to it, and you can hear the cheers and the music for the last 3/4 mile or so.  It’s sprint-finish inducing.

Along most of the course, there’s a decent crowd and music.  I counted 8 different ensembles, the highlight for me being the drum crew at the bottom of the hill near Howard University (they were there both years).  They’re simply awesome and you can’t help but pick up the pace when you hear their thunder.

Despite the cold and despite the lack of planning for this race, I decimated my PR.  In fact, I was planning on crossing in the 1:45-1:50 range, so my 1:37, without feeling like I was working that hard, was really surprising.  I went out pretty fast, was able to keep it up through most of the course and, apart from some slight cramping around mile 11, felt pretty strong through the finish.

The post race party is a bit overhyped.  While it’s great to have two free beers included and the music is usually pretty strong, once you’re through the food buffet just past the finish line and off to get your checked bag, it’s beer or food you can buy.  Not much of a party boys…bring some of the buffet food out to the lawn!

I shared a few beers at the finish with my friend Mike and, while we had planned to stick around to hear more of the band, it was just too bitter cold for a post-race party.  Back on the metro and home, pretty content with the day’s effort and ready to start dreaming about someday, maybe, qualifying for Boston.