Going Long

Racing into 2012

acbeeson — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 01:55:18 +0000

Off-season training can get to be a little monotonous. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this. Sprinkling in a few races here and there often helps me with the cabin fever. Unfortunately, I don’t live in a tropical paradise, swimming and biking get a little dicey this time of year. Its Colorado, so we go with what we have, mountains and snow. That means snowshoe racing.

I’ve done more than a few snowshoe races in the past. I even have my own pair of racing snowshoes! However, I didn’t do any last winter and I really felt it hurt me when it came time to race in the spring. Not this year. Fortunately, I’ve got plenty of friends (and a wife) who like to do crazy stuff like last weekend’s Swift Skedadle 5/10K snowshoe race.

You don’t need a full blown race report, so I’ll try to stick to the interesting stuff. First, I guess I’d forgotten how hard these things are! Running in snowshoes itself isn’t all that difficult, they’re not that big, or heavy, and you really don’t have to change your stride like you’d think.

What makes it hard? Well… start with the course. We’re in the Rockies, start/finish is at roughly 8700 ft. The 10K goes up to 9500 ft. For the most part the footing isn’t much worse that your average trail run, good for all those stabilizer muscles. But then there are the powder sections. Its not even like running in sand, it moves more. This particular course had a lot of ‘sugar’ sections. A pretty accurate description of the snow actually. When you’re in these sections, its best to try and follow everyone else’s footsteps, literally. Breaking trail sucks! Just missing footprints really challenges your balance. It wastes a ton of energy and generates a lot of cursing. The only problem is that the guys in front of me always seem to takes strides juuuust enough longer than I want to that it has pretty much the same effect.

I was reminded of this around the 1.5 mile mark as I was trudging up hill. I glanced down at my garmin which informed my that I was ‘progressing’ at a 28 minute per mile pace while my heart rate was 168bpm (that’s about 5bpm over LT, I think). Ouch!

Its also not much of a race… Yes, there are bibs, chip timing, t-shirts, awards, and great food at the finish! But its rare that you actually find someone to race. I think I moved into 6th place just before the first mile marker and that’s exactly where I finished. I could see 4th and 5th for another half mile or so, and 5th another half mile after that. I tried not to look behind me, but rarely did I see anyone. Unless someone throws a shoe (I’ve done it) its pretty much just a time trial suffer fest. Sound familiar anyone? Maybe that’s why I like ‘em.

Moving Day

acbeeson — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 23:38:42 +0000

No one likes moving. They may be excited to get where they are moving to or happy to get away from where they were, but no one likes the actual act of moving. Same goes for me.

If you listened to me bitch about icloud, you knew this was coming. I’ve reached my destination. But as you can see, I’m still unpacking, haven’t decorated at all. I still can’t decide on colors, so why hang pictures, right? It may take a while, so please bear with me. Or better yet, if you stop by unpack a box, let me know what you think, suggestions always welcome.

In slightly better news, I’ve worked my last day of 2011 and hope to have plenty of time to spend whipping this place into shape!

Movember Lingers

acbeeson — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 00:06:19 +0000

I have to give credit where blame is due. My buddy and Rev3 teammate, Ryan, clued me into this whole thing. Maybe you read about it in last month’s Competitor magazine…

Movember, a month-long effort to raise awareness and funds to support prostate cancer research and other male cancers.

My goal! Thanks Competitor Magazine.

Seemed like a great idea! Clearly its a great cause. Guys if you don’t know a guy, or know a guy who knows a guy who’s battled prostate cancer my guess is you’re under 30, or the guys you know just don’t talk about that kind of stuff.

I know several. My Dad’s dad died from it (or at least that’s where they think the cancer started). I also have a client/colleague who was diagnosed this summer. He isn’t afraid to talk about it at all. I’ve learned more from him than anyone else. He was diagnosed without any symptoms because of your typical annual physical and some pretty simple baseline testing. As a result, his prognosis is excellent. We should all be so lucky. He would tell you its not luck at all.

Well, talking about IT is what Movember is all about. Yes, its about fundraising and research. But I bug people for donations often enough. (Yeah, get ready.) So for me its an excuse to grow some outlandish facial hair that no one in their right mind would otherwise set out to grow. The plan was simple: look ridiculous for a month and when anyone asked what the hell you were doing, or even better, for-the-love-of-God WHY. Tell ‘em its MO-vember and where they can make a donation.

I stopped shaving on Nov. 1, no one noticed until the middle of the month. Three weeks in, I couldn’t wait until Dec 1! I made it though Thanksgiving with the family without giving my mom a heart attack or scaring my nephew. Then I actually started to get a few compliments and a lot of ‘are you gunna keep it?’

So why not? Good causes don’t take 11 months off. I can just start to twist the corners! The Magnum PI jokes are pretty funny. Mark Spitz won seven gold medals with one! Pre did alright. I’m sure it won’t last forever, but here goes!

If they ask me to leave the pool when the HS girls practice, I'm shaving it!

Remembering the Negatives

acbeeson — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 17:27:56 +0000

A few years ago when I was really learning ‘how’ to run again, my coach began emphasizing the importance of negative splitting. Running faster at the end of a race that at the beginning. It didn’t take much convincing. I became a huge proponent of negative splitting in nearly every race, workout, or training session. I got pretty good at it, running at least, it became very natural, I didn’t really have to work at it and it felt great! Finishing a race or track session strong, passing people who were struggling, it made me feel like I knew something they didn’t. I rarely got passed the second half of a running race or leg. It got to the point that I’d have a really hard time positive splitting a workout when asked to. (Turns out there is some value to that as well.)

I still believe firmly in the negative split, I just seem to have forgotten how… or it certainly isn’t as automatic as it used to be! A few weeks back my friends Carole and Kyle dragged me off the couch for 10 mile trail race a few miles from my house. It was a great idea, I need a few of these things to spice up the offseason.

KB, me, and Carole pre race

It was a two lap course. I didn’t know the route, but I knew the terrain. I’ve run the park dozens of times. Should be a pretty easy set up to go out easy, learn the course on the first lap, put the hammer down on the second. So what happened? I dunno.

I suppose not warming up was partly to blame. I felt like it tough to gauge my effort right off the bat. I did a descent job of letting everyone go for the first mile and a half or so, but my HR was probably still too high. Then I just started racing. Before I knew it I was in catch everyone you can see mode and by the time I headed out on the second lap I knew this was not going to end well.

Part of what I love about passing someone so convincingly late in a race is that its so demoralizing. You know that person is thinking, ‘no way can I hang on to that guy’ and you certainly try to pass them in a manner that makes them think exactly that. How do I know its demoralizing? Because it happened about half a dozen times on that last lap. There’s nothing like learning your lesson with 4 miles to go in a 10 mile trail race. Ouch, man did those last few miles hurt. Lungs, legs, pride…

Can you tell how bad this hurts?

All things said and done, it was a great time with my friends, a beautiful day, a helluva workout and a pretty good lesson to learn. That’s what the off season is for, right?

Oh, and pizza! right Carole?