Feedback

The hours of daylight are in decline.  Winter is “officially” still a month away, but my tights, hat and gloves are out of basement storage.  There are about ten weeks until the day Punxsutawney Phil determines the arrival of spring.  A glance at the calendar displays four bleak months of snow, ice, frigid winds; weather a polar bear would like. 

Needing an ember to stoke my running fire, this week I received the following: 

“It is our pleasure to extend you an offer to be a part of the 2015 Runners Roost Team.”

I feel a bit like Sally Field at the Oscars.  You like me.  You really, really like me.

For those who believe in Sports Periodization, I am in the Transition Phase.  This phase is used to facilitate psychological rest, relaxation and biological regeneration as well as to maintain an acceptable level of general physical preparation.  It allows the body to fully regenerate so that it is prepared for the next season.  The feedback my body is telling me is to rest, but who’s got time for that. 

For the past three weeks I have been participating in No Shave Movember, where men grow mustaches to raise awareness for prostate cancer and to promote manliness.  The feedback I’ve received has been enlightening.  My family hates the mustache.  Close friends and co-workers find it amusing.  “Ah, No Shave Movember” they say.  Acquaintances I see infrequently give me a puzzled look until they realize there’s a caterpillar-esque growth on my upper lip.  My appearance makes total strangers feel really uncomfortable and they can’t get away from me fast enough.   What’s your feedback?

 

Are You a Runner?

That question caught me by surprise.  “Uh, yeah” I feebly replied.  I had just plucked a bottle of orange juice out of a tub of ice after finishing the HRCA Backcountry Half Marathon and one of the volunteers was guarding the drinks.  After a few seconds I was able to add “Some days more than others.”  The volunteer stood her ground.  “I didn’t see your bib.”  She clearly wanted proof that I had registered for the race.  I pulled the warm-up jacket I was wearing to reveal my bib and finisher’s medal. 

It reminded me of the time I wandered into the local vitamin store looking for some supplements.  The salesperson gave me the once-over and asked “Do you exercise at all?”

Maybe I’m reading too much into the question, but what was she implying?  That I’m not fit enough to run?  Didn’t the salt stains running down my face confirm my exertion?  Didn’t the dried boogers and Cliff-Shots on my face also validate my participation? 

But the question hits a deeper nerve.  Are you a runner?  The short answer is “heck yes.”  I am a runner and I live my life as such. 

And what does it mean to be a runner?
Is it defined by the pace we move?
Is it the volume of miles or finisher medals we accumulate?
Is it the 1,000 yard stare we perfect?
Is it the study of blisters and lost toe nails?
Is it the satisfaction of setting a goal; the struggle to overcome obstacles; and the joy of achievement?
Is it the bliss of living the good life?
Is it spending time with the nicest people you know?
Do you run because you like the way your body feels when you are moving?
Does your mood brighten when you think about the run you just did and the one you are about to do?

If you think of yourself as a runner, then you are one.

Are you a runner?

The Trouble with Rest Days

“Idle feet are the devil's playground” – Anonymous

Baseboards – specifically the cleaning of baseboards; that is my motivation.  I keep lists of things to do so I don’t find myself looking for something to do and staring at the molding and thinking “I could clean the baseboards.”  My Puritan ethic compels me to be ever active.  It is ingrained in me.   The trouble is that when I see what other things I could be doing with my time, and I do a value comparison, I start to wonder if my efforts would be better used elsewhere. 

Even rest has to have a purpose.  Since the beginning of this year I have rested 10 days.  I know this because Tyler knows this and also because these are the kinds of statistics I track.  Yesterday I found myself staring at those baseboards.  Then I remembered there were some 1 x 4s and other scrap wood in the garage and I’ve been meaning to play with that new pocket jointer I got for my birthday.  So, I built myself an end table. 

The reason I chose to rest was because today I ran the Highlands Ranch Half Marathon.  The race started in Daniels Park and ended at the Highlands Ranch Town Center.  The course followed a route along which I imagined cows were herded when the town was first settled about 140 years ago.  It was a fine late summer morning; a scattering of clouds puffed along by a soft, five mph breeze out of the east.  The temperature was about 55 degrees a gun time. 

There were a few familiar faces in the race.  Fellow Runners Roost teammate Matt Peharda was the overall winner.  Deb Cunningham won the female 50 – 59 age group.  Dave Pierce finished second in the male 50 – 59 age group.  It was a 1 – 2 finish for Phidippides Track Club as I was fortunate to finish first in the 50 – 59 age group (4^th overall).

As I waited for the start, noticing many runners with compression socks and Garmins, I overheard two runners discussing a training method one of them had read about.  My mind drifted through their conversation, but I heard the words research, university, data and results.  I thought about what they were saying, not about the new training method, but about the professors who spent the time studying it. 

We live in an era of great discoveries in athletic performance.  Through scientific research and actual competition, we’ve seen improvements in speed, endurance and stamina.  Our ignorance shrinks by fractions.  What we know is dwarfed by what we don’t know about our bodies’ capabilities.  Are these results asymptotic or limitless? 

Breaking Training

We do not run in a Peter Pan world; forever young until we are not.  We age by degrees and can quantify the decline in our physical abilities.  Thank God for age groups!  The perplexing thing is not that it happens.  It is that we are shocked when it happens to us.

I had the great luxury of spending the weekend with some old friends;

Watching the Rockies Win!

Playing a round at the Vail Golf Club!

Eating at Yama Sushi!

And hiking in West Vail!

 

It has been a very good summer for the Mather clan and we treated ourselves to a vacation at the swanky Phoenician in Scottsdale, AZ.  Not surprising, it was really hot there – like Badwater hot.  The temperature hit a high of 109 degrees.  When I left the hotel at 4:30 AM to go for a run it was 88 degrees.

On Thursday I ran a 10 mile out-and-back route along the Arizona Canal.  At the turnaround I stopped to remove a pebble from my shoe.  To my surprise, when I bent to untie my shoe I saw several small shells.  I put a few in my pocket before shuffling back to the hotel.  Those shells were Quagga Mussels which cause hundreds of millions of dollars in maintenance and damage repairs to public works around the country.

It was nice to have a little diversion from hard training.  I still ran and swam, but my mileage / yardage for the week was much lower, as was the intensity of the workouts.  I swam with the Sun Devil Masters team two of the days.  On Saturday I joined the Mummy Mountain Runners for a 10 mile loop around their namesake peak.  It was a spectacular tour past the mansions of Paradise Valley.  Adding the distance to, and from, the meet-up place gave me 16 miles for the day.

Lounging by, and in, the Phoenician’s mother of pearl pool gave me time to cast my eyes to the future.  My next race is the Highlands Ranch Half Marathon on Labor Day.  Beyond that I’m not really sure what my running future holds.  No one sees around life’s corners and that is a blessing.  Whether we saunter, shuffle or sprint we greet events in stride.  Savor the surprise. 

Age Before Beauty – As If

I was hoping to title this entry “Third Time’s a Charm”, but that was not to be.  This past Tuesday I completed my involvement in the 2014 Aquaman Swim - Run Series organized by Without Limits Productions.  While the race series does not officially end until July 29^th, I can finish no better nor worse than 2^nd in the overall standings.  This is the third time I’ve competed in this event and my third runner-up finish.  I’ve had enough splash ‘n’ dash fun for the summer. 

Points are awarded based on the best four finishes.  I have 74 points and Antonio Soto has 78.  For the record, I am old enough to be Antonio’s father.  He is 28 and I am 50.  Not to cry in your Gatorade, but it is a sad day when you realize you just can’t compete on a non age-graded level. 

 

I put in a lot of effort to prepare for this event and was physically drained after Tuesday’s race.  After nearly three hours of racing, there was only a minute and eight seconds difference in our overall times.  I should be happy that I was even competitive in the race, but I like to win and I train so I can give myself the best shot at doing that.

After all of my races I like to do a post-mortem.  This gives me the chance to learn; to see where I can improve and to stroke myself for doing something well.  I look for the positives in races and in this case, they were easy to spot. 

1.     I actually won one of the races.

2.     I had the fastest average transition of anyone in the race.

3.  Most importantly, I became better acquainted with Galen Classen and Tom Weber.

I have known Galen through officiating Colorado high school swim meets.  Earlier this summer Galen supported his brother Ken’s participation in the Manhattan Island Marathon Swim Race. 

Tom and I train with the Phidippides Track Club.  It was great hearing about the races he competed in this summer.  On Bike to Work Day Tom ran the 31 miles from his home in Thornton to his office in the Tech Center - a very impressive feat. 

I should also comment about the venue.  I like open-water swimming.  I love the smell of pond scum in the evening…smells like victory.  The weather was almost ideal for the swim portion of the race.  There was little wind which means there were few waves.  The course is a triangle with the hypotenuse pointing straight at the Cherry Creek Dam, which looms about a quarter mile from the far buoy. 

 

The run course is an out and back affair.  Starting at the swim beach, it goes uphill towards Parker Road where the turnaround is. 

After the race the event organizers treat the athletes to pizza from Pudge Brothers.  It is a really nice touch.  I’ve never met a slice I didn’t like so I’ve really enjoyed these past four Tuesdays.

Short And Sweet

This past Friday, Independence Day, I competed in the HRCA Independence Day 5K.  The circuit started and finished at the Highlands Ranch Town Center.  In the final moments before the race began, I was chatting with fellow Runners Roost teammate Bridget Tschappat.  We both commented on how hot it was.  We usually finish our morning runs before 8:00 (the start time for the race) and don’t run when it is that hot.

I had a revelation.  The last time I ran a 5 kilometer race was about 20 years ago.  It was an evening race in Denver’s City Park.  I don’t recall my time, but I remember it was the first, and only, time I ran under 5:00 for a mile.  That was the first mile, of course, and I finished the race gasping for air, sounding like a sea lion. 

Man, I could get used to 5 Ks.  The race is half over before you break a sweat or feel any discomfort.  If you go out too fast, you only suffer for a mile or so.

  

The hrcaonline.org web site boasts a “total ascent of 80.13 ft”, though MapMyRun shows a total of 121 feet of climbing.  What’s 41 feet amongst friends?  Most of that climbing comes in what race organizers call “shake & bake hill” which the runners climb at mile 2.  There is also a 2/3 mile climb from Broadway & Highlands Ranch Parkway to the finish. 

Here is the map of the course:

I really shouldn’t complain about the climbing as it feeds into my strength.  Since I have little speed, I took advantage of those hills and passed a few runners on them.  I finished 11^th overall – 1^st in my new 50 – 59 year age group – with a time of 18:48.

Saturday my younger daughter and I participated in the 2nd annual MHM Cancer Sucks Freedom Swim.  I paced my daughter to a second place finish for female swimmers – the first female sans-wetsuit.  Here is a photo of me with both of my daughters at last year’s event.  Aren’t they beautiful?

Surf & Turf

Last Thursday the water temperature at Cherry Creek Reservoir was 69 degrees, about 5 degrees warmer than the average temperature of the English Channel between Dover, England and Calais, France in August*.  I bring this up not because I’m practicing for an interview with The Weather Channel, but because I am in a quandary.

I registered for the Aquaman Swim-Run Series, a six event series held at Cherry Creek State Park.  It consists of a 1 mile swim followed by a 5 kilometer run.  I describe myself as a runner who swims.  That said, on average I swim almost 15,000 yards per week, clearly more than a fitness swimmer.  By comparison, my average weekly running mileage is about 48 miles.  My interest in the Aquaman Series is to take advantage of my relatively good abilities in both swimming and running and, hopefully, win the overall competition.  The winner of the series historically has been awarded a wetsuit. 

English Channel swim regulations (as laid down by the Channel Swim Association - CSA) state a bathing suit “shall be of a material not offering Thermal Protection or Buoyancy.”  Wetsuits provide buoyancy and thermal protection.  The CSA does not recognize swims in wetsuits. 

I believe in the purity of sport.  That is why I was one of only two competitors in the Aquaman event NOT wearing a wetsuit.  I also believe I was at a significant disadvantage in that race.  I felt like a jockey at the start of the Kentucky Derby riding Mr. Ed.  Conventional wisdom says a wetsuit gives a swimmer a 5 second advantage per 100 yards.  So, over a 1,500 meter swim, that translates into about a minute and a half.  Last Thursday I finished second by 13 seconds. 

When I exited the water my feet were numb.  I stumbled through the first few hundred yards of the run like I’d just gotten off a Tilt-a-Whirl.  My hands were numb.  I looked at them at the two mile mark of the run and my fingers were white.  They were cramping so badly I couldn’t make a fist. 

Here’s my predicament.  Do I ‘man up’ and swim with a bathing suit or join the school of other athletes and don a wetsuit for the rest of the races in the series? 

*August is the month most English Channel swim crossings are attempted.  The water is (relatively) warmer and calmer.

50 on 50: My Urban Ultra

The idea came to me, as many crazy ideas do, during a long run.  It was a Sunday in February and I was cruising along at the back of a pack on one of the Runners Roost Aurora store’s group runs.  “I should do something big for my 50^th birthday,” I thought.  Running 50 miles leapt into my mind.  And so was born the 50 on 50: My Urban Ultra - a self-supported run to celebrate my birthday.

The Route:

My first idea was to run an out-and-back route along the Highline Canal Path.  The dirt trail would be less taxing on my joints than running on roads.  There would be few places where I would cross traffic and it would be mostly shaded.  The drawback is there would be no places to refuel, unless I dropped food, or had someone waiting for me at various intervals.

I wanted to avoid traffic and opted for this route which allowed me to run over half of the miles on trails.  There would also be several places to stop for food along the way.

From my home –

Northwest along the Sand Creek

North on Broadway to Lee Gulch trail

Lee Gulch trail west to Platte River

North on Platte River trail to Bear Creek trail

West on Bear Creek trail to Wadsworth

North on Wadsworth to the Lakewood Runners Roost store at Alameda

Alameda east to the Platte River trail

Platte River trail south to Mississippi

Mississippi east to Buchtel

Buchtel south east to St. Paul

St. Paul north to Mexico

Mexico east to the Denver Runners Roost store at Colorado

East on various streets to the Cherry Creek trail at Iliff

Followed the Cherry Creek trail through Kennedy Golf course and into Cherry Creek State Park

Exited the park at Quincy

Parker Road south to the Aurora Runners roost store

Arapahoe west to Potomac

Potomac south to County Line Road

County Line Road west to Peoria

Peoria south to Lincoln

Why the route past the Runners Roost stores?

The short answer is because that route came the closest to 50 miles.  The long answer is complicated.  I was looking at a map of Denver and guestimated that the distance from my home to the Lakewood, Denver, Aurora and Lone Tree stores was about 50 miles.  I wanted to finish the run with my regular Thursday night Lone Tree Runners Roost group.

On a serious note; my father died last August.  It was on a Thursday.  My co-workers were the first to know as my sister called my office with the news.  I went to where Mary was because I needed comforting.  Then I went home to be with my daughters because I needed to remind myself what it meant to be a father.  Then, because it was Thursday, I went to the Runners Roost because I needed to run with my friends. 

I wore the Altra Instinct 2.0 (shown here with my Guerrilla Tag).

What did I eat?

Pre-run:

1 ½ cups brown rice

            1 cup Almond Milk

            1 banana

At miles 15, 20 and 30:

            Bagel

2 tablespoons peanut butter

Banana

At miles 39 and 42:

            Cliff Bars (special thanks to Jill at the Aurora Runner’s Roost)

Throughout the run:

            1 packet of Vitargo

            4 pints of Red-flavored Gatorade

            1 very sweet tea at mile 30

As I compared the calories expended relative to calories consumed, I realized that I was running a large caloric deficit.  By the end of the run I was in ketosis and really wasn’t hungry and, quite frankly, nothing sounded that good to eat – except cake! 

The worst parts of the run were the stretch along Alameda and ten minutes around noon.  I stopped for almost ten minutes waiting for lights to change on Alameda.  That is where I met this dude.

Actual conversation:

Dude – “How many miles?”

Me – “About 25, on my way to 50.”

Dude – “I ran two marathons once.”

Me – “Well, get back at it.”

The other low point was when I was on the east side of Cherry Creek State Park at mile 39.  I was feeling tired and there was a pebble in my shoe.  I sat on a bench in the shade of the only tree within several hundred yards.  I responded to a text from Mary and looked at the time – 11:53.  A man walked by and I looked at the time again – 12:03.  Ten minutes vanished like my will-power at an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet.  The man was now a speck well away from me.  I had enough of my wits to know that I was getting close to the danger zone and needed sugar.  I exited the park and stopped at a Conoco where I guzzled a sweet tea and ate a Cliff Bar.

So, why did I do it?

Because I fear death.  Many guys when they hit mid-life, buy a sports car – typically red – and drive it like a matador taunting a bull, thinking they can out-race death.  There is some small part of me that thinks I can out-run death.

This was also an inner-quest.  I tried to equate miles to years in my life and recall where I was at each milestone.  That was cathartic.  The miles and years just flew by.  I got time to think about what is important to me and what I want to accomplish in the time I have left.  I have assembled a rough ‘bucket list’ and am looking forward to checking items off the list.  As a kid I wanted things because I thought that having things would make me happy.  As my body turns into an old man I want experiences, and friends to share them with.

Would I do it again?  Absolutely!

What would I do differently?

I would have taken more photos.  I would have stopped at the Conoco near Kennedy Golf course.  Most importantly, I would have coerced some people to run with me.  Next year my birthday falls on a Thursday.  Please run with me.

I’m not sure if this is a hint, but my wife bought me a set of golf clubs for my birthday. 

Old Guy Epic

Was it all a dream or was I really being chased by David Rothenburger? 

It has been said that dreams about being chased represent your way of coping with fears in your waking life.  Instead of confronting your problems, you are running away from them and avoiding them.  Your own feelings of anger, jealousy or fear can assume the appearance of the threatening figure.  You may be projecting these feelings onto the chaser.  The next time you have a chase dream, turn around and confront your pursuer.  Ask them why they are chasing you. 

That is exactly what I was thinking when I looked behind me at the 26 mile mark of last week’s Colfax Marathon.  “David, just let me coast across the finish line,” I thought. 

The day got off to an inauspicious start.  My bag fell into the porta-potty; plop, right in a pile of you know what.  Maybe it was an omen.

Usually there are two forms races take.  Runners hold different paces and gradually drift apart or one runner flies and dies and is summarily passed by other runners.  My race against David was a classic back and forth battle as evidenced by our times at the checkpoints.

First	Last	6.4 Mile Split	10.1 Mile Split	16.1 Mile Split	20.1 Mile Split	TIME
CARL	MATHER	44:06:00	1:09:31	1:50:37	2:19:15	3:06:37
DAVID	ROTHENBURGER	43:34:00	1:08:58	1:50:46	2:18:56	3:06:45

My Garmin lost its satellite connections at the ½ marathon mark, which was a little ironic as that is about when I lost interest in the race.  But as the course made the left turn onto 20^th Street, I spotted David’s white singlet and unmistakable gate.  Slowly I drew closer to him, eventually passing him at mile 15.  Hoping to gain time on the downhill, I tried to press the pace, but my legs didn’t respond. 

David passed me at mile 18 and quickly had a large lead.  By the time I entered Mile High Stadium, David was through the other side.  I caught David at mile 22 and we ran together for a bit.  Mike Quispe joined us and gave us encouragement.  I was in no mood to talk, but Mike’s presence was comforting. 

Either Mike’s voice drifted back or my mind drifted, but I soon realized I was alone.  During the latter stages of a marathon the mind can go into some crazy dark places.  I turned around at mile 24 and didn’t see David. 

I got a side-stitch.  Hunched over pinching my side, I hobbled along for the next two miles.  Then, just after the 26 mile mark drifted below my feet, I turned around and there was David, showing up like a bad penny.  I did a ‘Feet don’t fail me now’ and held on to finish eight seconds ahead of David. 

It took everything I had in me to hold David off.  The proof is that my legs gave out just after I crossed the finish line.  Luckily, a volunteer was there to catch me before I collapsed.  I put my hands on my knees and told her I was fine.  I took two steps and my legs gave out again.  “Get a wheelchair!” she shouted.  “I don’t need that,” I said.  “Just help me walk a little.”  She did and I was OK in a few seconds. 

Rivalries exist, even in the Masters division, and David and I have had our share of battles.  Ernest has Julio; Ben has Jerry; Peanut Butter has Jelly; so we have each other.