Need some polishing

Race report: Stanford Treeathlon

As a coach, I attempt to push my athletes beyond their perceived limits of their abilities. At the suggestion of a team parent, I tried to round up some swimmers to do the Stanford Treeathlon, a sprint triathlon that is held about 45 minutes away. In terms of a triathlon, it is almost as easy as they come: a ~500 meter swim through a marina, a pancake flat 20 km ride, and a flat 5km run. I managed to get one girl, and then a relay team of boys, plus three parents to do the race.

For them, the race was a complete success. The relay team placed well in their category, the individual girl was the second high schooler to finish, and the two parents had a blast and vowed to do more. As for me? The race was solid. I finished third for the age groupers, fourth including collegiate athletes. Their performance will get their own post.

Here is my race report:

I got down there early, and tried to pick up my packet. Key word-try. The race was set up and run by the Stanford Triathlon team, and of course there were hiccups. They got most of it sorted out quickly, but they didn’t have pins for the bib numbers, which was an issue for the swimmers and parents, who didn’t own a race belt, and had no way of attaching the bib to their clothes. We simply made a point of marking their legs and arms more clearly with their race numbers.

After helping them get their transition area set up and going through little nuances with them, I went out for a quick spin. The week before, a piece of glass had shredded the front wheel on my bike (the streets of Oakland go hard), and I had just put on new tires. I had been riding Michelin Pro 3, which I had liked a lot, but at the suggestion of my friend Greg, I tried out the Continental GP4000s. They looked pretty slick, and felt pretty good on the ride out.

Another reason why I wanted to ride the course was to get comfortable on the turns. The course is a lollipop shape, where you have an out and back, and then looped around a business park. The 180 on the out and back hadn’t been swept so there was gravel and dirt at the turn, and one of the turns in the business park was cobble, so I would not be flying through the turns-mental notes made. I made it back to transition, and then headed down to the water for the race to start.

What the course looks like from above-just ride the perimeter of the lollipop. Also, hands down, the best type of lollipop, and the best kind of tootsie roll pop.

The race went through a marina. The athletes were lined up on a dock, and then allowed to jump in for the race to start. While stretching on the dock waiting for permission to jump in, I heard a voice behind me-it was the speedo man (Jacob) from HITS Napa-the guy who had trounced me on the run. We exchanged pleasantries, but in my mind, I was off my game. I hadn’t been feeling 100% from the rough week of training a week ago, and I am going through lifeguard training again with East Bay Regional Park District, so the day before I had to do around 200 pushups, so I knew that I would be stressed on the race. Having him in the race was just another thing for me to think about.

I hopped in the water and tried to stretch out. In the water, I was recognized by another competitor as being a swimmer because I was wearing swedes. 

The universal sign of a swimmer-cheap goggles. They used to cost $1.25, now they are an outrageous $3.95. All for a strap, plastic, and string.

I laughed and we talked for a bit about how we were going to get passed on the bike and run. I knew it to be true, and thought about altering my game plan with Jacob here. I had wanted to try to throw down as hard as I can on the swim and bike, and hold on the run, but with Jacob here, I changed it: hold the swim constant, and then hammer the bike and run and pray that it would be enough. (Changing game plans is generally a bad idea, but hey… I don’t actually have an excuse for doing this).

With the start of the swim, I took off aggressively for the first 50 yards to see if anyone would go with me. Two others were even with me. I slipped right on the heels of one, and eased up. One guy gapped us, but it was just about 10 seconds. My arms felt heavy, and my stroke felt sloppy. Hopefully next weekend, the other life guards will learn their stuff and we won’t have to do so many pushups.  I also need to do more speed work in my swims, but also probably fewer pushups would have helped.

In the last 100 yards, I moved past the guy I had been drafting off of, and slid over to get on the ladder to get out. Getting out on a dock is harder than you think when your arms hurt. I lost a couple seconds on the leader, but put some distance on the second place guy, and started the ~.25 mile run into transition. I stripped my wetsuit down to my….WTF SPEEDO MAN JUST PASSED ME.

Jacob passed me on the run into transition. Dude can run like a gazelle, and also swim pretty solidly. I picked up my turnover to try and limit the damage, but it was mentally difficult to have him pass me this early.

He left transition with roughly a 30 second lead on me. I left transition with another guy, and we had to weave in and out of the collegiate competitors who were already on the course, having started 20 minutes in front of us. I could see Jacob clearly, and started making the effort to pull him back. Just past the first turn around, I had caught him with the guy who left transition with me. My heart rate was high, my arms were heavy, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to keep up this pace for the rest of the race.

On the way back on lap 1, I sat up a little, trying to control my heart rate. The guy who I left t1 with slid past me. I let him go, and tried to keep track of how far in front he got. The rest of the ride became about controlling my heart rate, maintaining pace, and doing what I could to put distance on Jacob.

With some controlled breathing, the heart rate came down, and I started to focus on racing. The course was becoming more crowded, and I had to yell out to some of the athletes to stay on the right. They were all over the road, and taking the 180 slowly. Usually acceptable, but not when I am trying to create a gap and catch someone.  I rolled the rest of the way through the course, averaging 24.5mph. Not too shabby given the three 180s I had to go through. A pace that I would like to hold for a full Olympic.

I knew that I hadn’t put any distance on Jacob, because at the last turn around, he was only ~15 seconds behind me, and the first place guy was about 45 seconds in front of me. The run was going to be the decider. Jacob and I hit transition at roughly the same time, and he left about 10 seconds in front of me. And away he went.

I knew that I didn’t have the legs to go with him, and my focus went to trying to pull back the first place guy. I had no idea what his advantage was on me, but I knew that I could only try and hope that I could pull him back. About a minute for me from the turnaround, I saw Jacob, and then the now second place guy running back. With a two minute gap on me and only half a 5k left, I realized that it was unlikely that I was going to catch him.

I powered as best I could through the last half. I had made a friend on the aid station on the way out by asking the name of the woman who handed me water, so I made it a point to give her a shout on the way back. She made a point of throwing water on me while she handed me a cup. If you wanted a moment that summed up my experience with women, that would be it.

I finished the race in 3^rd among the age group athletes, and with the collegiate athletes included, I placed 4th. I had no chance of catching the Jacob and the other guy. I ended up averaging ~24.5 mph on the bike, and ran a 18:28 5k, which is just under 6 minute pace. I found out that the second place finisher was a former pro triathlete. Such is life. 

There are a lot of takeaways from this race. Despite a rough week, and no rest, I went fast. My transitions were cleaner than they have been. I think that I need to do more track workouts, and maybe start lifting again. I know I can be faster on the bike and run. My swim can be cleaner. There is always room to improve. 

If you can't stand the heat

Earlier this week, I was sitting in the science staff room grading with my TA during my prep period when another teacher walked in. The first words out of her mouth were, “Really! I can’t believe you”. I looked at her, and asked why, but she didn’t say anything else, and I could tell by the look on her face that she was going to tell me later when the TA was not around. The tone of the teacher was that of surprise, and was not harsh, but I could tell that I might have done something that the teacher was disappointed in.

My brain racked itself for what it could have done-last week was spring break, I had gone out a couple times, maybe she heard about that? I hadn’t made any bad decisions…maybe talking to these two questionable girls for a bit out at a bar…what had I done to draw such a judgment?

This is not how I spent my spring break. 

At the end of the period, I had shooed my TA away, and the same teacher walked in, and again made the same exclamation. I inquired again-what’s up? What did I do? “You voted for McCain didn’t you!”

She must have seen my car. My car has a McCain sticker on it, and if they had come in the mail, I would also have a Romney sticker on it. As a teacher, it must have been impossible for her to believe that there was a conservative in her ranks.

I responded to her accusation with “Yes, I did. And I also voted for Romney. Would you like to discuss why?”

She was taken aback. Not only had a voted for one republican, but I had voted twice against President Obama. MIND BLOWN. A teacher in California is a conservative? HOW DARE THIS HAPPEN. When I asked if she wanted to know why, she just said she couldn’t believe me. The same refrain came back "I can't believe you." My response to this was, “It is really none of your business who I voted for, and most people don’t start a conversation with ‘I can’t believe you’, but if you want to know why I voted a particular way on any issue/politician, I am happy to share.”

Oops. Wrong thing to say. I was told that she would start her conversations any way she wanted to, and that she was disappointed in me for being a conservative, and she didn’t care why. This picture is how I felt about the whole interaction (caution, foul language).

Now my secret is out. A republican is in the flock. Now what? Since this incident happened, another teacher came up to me and said that she heard about a teacher owning a red jeep with a McCain sticker on it and it took her all of 15 seconds to figure out it was me.

I have always been open to talk about my politics, but I usually keep my mouth shut at work-politics rarely come up anyways; we are too busy talking about what is going on in our classroom, or with our families, what parent is making our lives interesting, etc.

Will there be greater implications from this interaction? We shall see. 

In case you were wondering what I believe on certain issues, they can be loosely classified as being fiscally conservative, and socially liberal. That doesn't tell you a whole lot, but if you want to know more, you can ask. Pick any issue, and I am happy to discuss my viewpoint on it with you, and I am happy to listen to your side. But please don’t start with “Really! I can’t believe you.” Let’s just have a conversation about whatever subject you choose.

Quality family time

So this past week, I saw this going up a hill:

Now, some things to notice about the bike and the riders-Full kit on the dad, which probably means he is pretty serious. Second, the girl in the middle is wearing pink crocs, which is awesome. Also, the dad has had a crank extender put on (not sure if that is the technical term for it), but obviously he is making an effort to get the daughter on the bike. The son is rocking the tie dye and the daughter has an awesome floral helmet.

Score on my awesomemeter? 9.23/10.

Now, about the dad. Time for a multiple choice test. Is he...:
A) Spending quality time with his kids
B) Getting some training in
C) Indoctrinating his kids at a young age
D) Crazy.

If you answered all of the above, then you would be correct.

But this draws a bigger question and implications for the kids-are they going to grow up to be cyclists? Why? Because of their early exposure? Because the dad pushed them into it? I know that a fair number of swimmers get burnt out from competing at an early age. That might happen to these kids. There are a ton of issues surrounding it. Hopefully they will fall in love with a sport/hobby and dominate.

In complete disregard of that last paragraph-when I get married, I expect to have four kids in four years, hopefully two sets of twins, so I can have my own relay team. I will train all of them to be breaststrokers, and once I have one, the rest will be given another stroke. In the words of Arnold, we will crush our enemies/other swim teams.

Just kidding. Kind of.

Also, this is how I feel when I have a day off from training.

Till I collapse

17 hours of training this week. Song of the week:

How much would you pay a babysitter?

How much are you willing to pay a babysitter? Teaching is sometimes compared to babysitting, so let’s run with this thought experiment. $7/hour? $10/hour? Let’s go with $5/hr, because there will be other kids around too. So the babysitter is going to have your kid from 8am to 3pm, but they get 30 minutes off for lunch and an hour of personal time, so the babysitter is only really watching your kid for 6.5 hours. That comes out to be… $32.50/day. Assuming that the babysitter is watching a total of 25 kids (about the average size of the class), then that number becomes $812.50/day. And the baby sitter is only going to work for 180 days of the year, so total amount of money that the babysitter would make in a year would be…$146,250. Now, since the baby sitter has had some extra training, and your kid might actually learn something while in the care of the babysitter, let’s pay the babysitter minimum wage in California, which is $8/hr. With 25 kids, working only 6.5 hours a day, and only 180 days a year, the “babysitter” is making $234,000/year! Hot damn, everyone should become a babysitter!

That number could easily be inflated using the logic espoused above. I easily work more than 6.5 hours a day, I usually have more than 25 kids in the room, and I most certainly work more than 180 days a year.

This was an argument, with slightly different numbers, that was posted by many of my teacher friends and others to Facebook, attempting to show that teachers should be paid more. I agree that teachers should be paid more, but not for the reasons they describe.

Let’s break down the argument, and then I will explain why I think teachers should be paid more.

The posting does not take into account the pay for the principal, the assistant principal, the office staff, the counselors, the security guards, the coaches, the janitors, etc. It doesn’t include the costs of maintaining the campus, the technology at the school, paying for electricity/water/waste, classroom supplies (yes, there is usually a little money stored away for these, but rarely enough). Including the pay for these individuals and upkeep of the campus takes a big chunk of that salary away.

Also rarely mentioned by these postings are the benefits that teachers receive. As a teacher, the school district will pay a certain percentage into your retirement, health and dental insurance, etc. These benefits are ridiculously good for a teacher. I won’t put out any specific numbers, but private pay insurance can cost from $100-$400+/month. I don’t pay anything close to that.

Taking into account that many other people need to be paid to support the babysitter, and that the babysitter has negotiated ridiculous benefits, that original $146,250 salary takes a big hit. How big? I will leave that to the accountants out there.

So how much should teachers be paid? Should there be incentive based pay? As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, almost everyone believes that they should get paid more.  Teachers almost always work more than the 180 days a year, more than the 8 hour days, and have more than 25 kids in the room. The real reason that teachers should be paid more is that the impact on students a good teacher can have is difficult to measure in monetary terms. Teachers influence, guide and mentor students and can impact students far beyond the classroom. You can probably remember your favorite teacher(s) and the words that they said to you that made you think and act differently. Those teachers are paid the same as all the other teachers. That begs the question about whether or not teachers should be paid differently, and what to do about bad teachers. A touchy subject that I will opine on later.

As for my pay? At the moment, to paraphrase Jack Johnson-I have everything I need, and everything I need is enough. I am grateful for my job, to be able to have an apartment (with a roommate-a good one), and not have to worry about my next meal.

Country Music

Country music is acceptable. But only if it is super cheesy like this:

Other acceptable country songs: Big Green Tractor, Tequila Makes her clothes fall off, Pray for You, Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo

You think I am crazy?

 There are a lot of crazy people out there that do triathlons. I don’t yet consider myself to be in that group. This past weekend, I had the opportunity to meet someone who definitely falls into that category.

If you care to look him up before I explain and not read the rest of this post, that is ok. His name is Kamil Suran, and he does ultra triathlons. Some of you may have heard of ultra running, where people run more than a marathon in length-50 milers, 100 milers, etc. Some of you may have heard of ironman length triathlons (a 1.2 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run). Individual who participate and race in those, I consider to be on the edge of sanity. Kamil competes in ultra triathlons, which are multiple ironman length races. Not only does his compete in them, he wins them-he recently won a triple ironman, taking a total of 39 hours to do it. That is averaging 13 hours an ironman, and people who have done one know that just that pace for one is good. Holding it for three? Insane. More on his craziness later on.

For the real reason behind this post: another race report. On Sunday, I raced at Lake Berryessa doing the HITS Napa Olympic length triathlon. This would be my second race of the season, with a considerable amount of training under my belt, so I hoped it would be a good benchmark for me to see how the upcoming season could potentially play out.

I drove up the day before the race to go to packet pickup and ride the course. On the drive up, I realized that Lake Berryessa is in the middle of nowhere, and you lose cell phone signal about 20 miles out, so I had no GPS to guide me. It made me realize how dependent I am on my phone. Fortunately, there are these things called street signs, and I was able to follow them to the lake and grab my packet. After packet pickup, I pulled my bike out of my car, towel changed into my kit, and headed out to the bike course.

I talked to my coach before the race about whether or not I should ride the course, and he said that I should just drive it, no need, it doesn’t look too bad. I rode the course anyways.

Course maps are notoriously bad and inaccurate. Here is the elevation course map from the race:

It wasn’t too bad, except for the fact that it the hills are steep. If you were not going uphill, you were going downhill. There were very few sections were flat where you could hammer. In the past, this would have been a problem for me because where I trained in Virginia is pancake flat, but I have done a fair amount of hills in Oakland, so I figured this course would be good for me. I made mental notes of when I would have to go into the smaller chain ring, when I would need to get out of the drops, and when I could drop the hammer on the downhills and not be screwed going up the next one. I averaged just under 20 mph for the ride, and went 1:15 for the ~25 miles.

That night, I spent at a friend’s house (who was rewarded with a bottle of Gosling's black seal rum-if you help me, you will be rewarded in kind. Gosling's is a personal favorite of mine…sponsor me maybe?), and I was up at 4:30 to make my way to the race site. Out the door by 5, at the race site by 6:10. On the drive over, I looked at the thermometer in my car and this is what it said:

The low temperatures made me a little nervous. I did not bring shoe covers or anything to throw on during the bike, and I don’t like the cold. I said a small prayer to the sun god as I prepped my transition spot and warmed up.

Always repping the tribe-making my bike more visible.

Look, I'm so happy to be here!

I made my way down to the water with the rest of the competitors. The under 39 men would go first, and then the older men, and then the women. The course was two 750 meter laps around a triangular course, with the first direction heading straight into the sun, making it impossible to see the buoy. It looked something like this:

Can’t you see the buoy in the sun? It’s right there.

Note-not an actual picture of the race.

I took the strategy of swimming toward the light, and then checking every 20 -30 strokes to make sure I was going straight. At a certain point, I was able to see the buoy, and all those years of looking at a black line at the bottom of a pool paid off-I was straight out to the buoy.

As I hit the first buoy, I realized I had about 20 seconds on the next swimmer. I eased up on my legs, stretched out for the rest of the first lap. I hit shore, got a high five from the race organizer, and hit the water on lap two.

I again rested my legs, and realized that I had already caught the wave of women. They had started 6 minutes behind me, and by the time I hit the first buoy on the second lap, I was swimming through the women. This was going to be a problem. I pretty much swam over them if they were in my way.  I didn’t grab anyone, but over their legs I went.

I hit shore, ran up to transition, and took a quick peek behind me. There was one guy about a minute back.

In transition, I struggled to get my wetsuit off. I need to get some of that wetsuit glide-my legs always get caught. A little slow through transition also due to the fact that it was gravel, and I was trying to prevent the rocks from getting in my shoes.

Riding out, the guy who was behind me caught me at about mile 2. I was surprised that he caught me so quickly, so I let him go by for about a minute, and realized that he wasn’t pulling away from me, so I wanted to see how fast he could go. On the next incline and decline, I pushed the pace a little and went by him again, and then hammered for about 30 seconds to see what he would do. Next look back, he had not gone with me. I rode to the turn around by myself, sitting up on some uphills, and pushing the few flats that I could.

One thing that is neat about being in the lead is having the police escort. The cop actually did a pretty good job of staying in front of me.

At the turn around, I noted that I had again a lead of about a minute on the second place guy (who did the whole race in a speedo, so props to him). Behind him, it was another minute or two until the next competitors.

The rest of the way back I just tried to keep my heart rate down. I downed my gels, kept hydrated, and tried not to blow up. I was going significantly faster than my ride the day before, and I wanted to be able to hit the run hard.

Coming into transition two, I was riding through the sprint wave of runners who had gone off before the Olympic race. One thing that this race could have done better is keep the road in and out better marked. The runners were all over the road coming into transition, and the road was poorly paved, so it made it difficult to balance, get my shoes out, and not run over AND WTF THE SECOND PLACE SPEEDO MAN JUST WENT BY ME.

Rolling into transition 2, the second guy had caught me. I had looked once or twice on the ride back and I had maintained my gap, but apparently in the last five miles he had caught me. He went through transition and got out about 15 seconds or so in front of me. I figured him to be a swimmer and a biker (the same as I am), so the run should be entertaining. I have been doing some track workouts, and my run has been feeling strong, so I figured I would have a chance.

And nope. Speedo man took off. Initially, I thought his strategy would be to hammer the first mile to break me mentally, and then drop off, but no. His strategy was to run like a gazelle in a speedo for a 10k. By the first mile, he had me by 40 seconds. At the turnaround, a little more than two minutes. The brief thought I had on the bike of winning the race turned into hold on to a podium spot. Again, I made mental notes as to how far behind the third and fourth people were, and I trucked on.

As for the run course, it’s an out and back course. Going into the turnaround, it was a mile of downhill, which means that it was a mile of uphill, and then some rollers back. Knowing the gap I had on 3^rd and 4^th, I pushed on as best I could. Last mile, I was just under 6 minute pace. The guys behind me didn’t catch me, and I hit the finish line in second. The guy who beat me had put 4 minutes into me on the run. Goddamn gazelle. That apparently can also swim and bike.

Splits:

Swim: 20:37

Bike: 1:06:09-22mph-not bad for a hilly course.

Run: 37:48-6:05/mile. PR in a 10k.

Verification. Because numbers don't lie.

After the race, I got cleaned up and waited for the awards ceremony. It would be my first podium finish since patriots half ironman, and I was excited to win some swag.

Swag-a pair of sunglasses, some sunscreen, a bottle of some weird pills that are "anti bonk", and a sweet plaque. 

But back to the original topic-crazy people doing triathlons.

While I waited for the awards, there was an announcement that a triathlete needed help getting to the Oakland Airport. I said that I would be happy to help, as I live about 20 minutes from the airport. What the announcer should have said is that there is a crazy individual named Kamil Suran who needed his bag taken to the airport so that he could ride to the airport after doing the full ironman course yesterday. The announcer pointed out the guy who needed help, and I went over and talked to him.

Apparently, this guy was supposed to do 20 hours of training yesterday, but was tired after his full length ironman, so he was going to make up for it today by riding to the Oakland airport. I was incredulous. 

20 hours?

Who is this guy?

Well, I put the fact that I just offered help to an insane person at the back of my mind, and I asked what he needed from me. He said he would ride his bike to the airport, and if I could take his bags to the airport, he would hop on his flight. Not a problem-when would I need to meet him at the airport? It is about 90 miles from Lake Berryesa to the Oakland International Airport, so I figured it would take him ~6 hours with stops. He then told me that the timing wasn’t important, because his flight wasn’t until the next morning.

What? So the questioning continued-where would you be staying? At the airport he said. Do you have a hotel room? No, he would just stay at the airport. Do you want a couch to crash or a a place to shower? No, he would be ok. What about a meal? Nope.

So I took his bag, exchanged numbers, and made my way back to the announcer’s desk. I ended up missing the awards ceremony because of this interaction, but I was still able to grab my award. I drove back to Oakland, and waited for the phone call.

I got the call around 8:30-Kamil had apparently flatted about 20 miles from Richmond, and had rode until the BART station. Dude had ridden 20 miles on a flat on his Zipp 808s. For those of you not in the know-Zipp 808s are $2500 wheels. He had forgotten to pack a CO₂ canister, so he couldn’t change his tube.  He was going to take BART to the airport, and I agreed to pick him up at the BART station around 9:15.

I met him at the Coliseum BART station and again offered to give him a place to crash for the night, or get some food, or a place to shower. He declined again. He had stopped for a salad, and had some gels left, so he would be ok.

One last bit about Kamil- he is planning on doing 30 ironman races in 30 days in Italy in September. Here is the website to verify: http://www.decaironman.com/1/. If you scroll down, you will see his name as a confirmed athlete.

I dropped him off, and went out and ate ice cream. If you ever think that I am crazy for doing this sport, think of Kamil. 

When are you going to grow up?

I have a bad habit of going out the night before a race. Races are on weekends, and well, weekends generally have things going on besides races.

Brief anecdote on the title: I was standing in line at packet pickup the day before a sprint triathlon, and in line I saw one of my friends and his wife. We talked about our race strategy, and how we were planning on spending the night. The wife jumped in and said, “We are going to have a lovely dinner at Adam’s parents house. What are you going to do?” I explained that my friend was graduating that day, and that I was going to go out with him, and then crash on his couch, and make it to the race the next morning. Her retort-“When are you going to grow up and start taking racing seriously!?”

I am not sure if I have grown up. Case in point: the Oakland Half Marathon.

The night before the Oakland Half, a friend of mine who works for 21^st Amendment Brewery was having an event at a café in Berkeley. I decided to go, and have a beer. That beer turned into a beer and a hamburger, and then a beer, a hamburger, and an ice cream sandwich.  Best pre race meal ever? Definitely. Until the next morning.

Race morning, I woke up and I knew that my stomach was in trouble.

Something one may not consider that actually takes some planning prior to race morning is when you are going to go to the bathroom prior to a race. You generally want to have everything out of system prior to starting, so that you don’t have to take any pit stops. At races, you generally have large lines in the minutes leading up to the race outside of the portapotties as athletes try to get their business done. I try to avoid these lines, as you can be standing there for a while, waiting to use, well, a portapotty.

With my stomach making noise, I made my way to the race, and noticed that the race organizers had lots of porta potties. Always a good thing. Unfortunately, my stomach being screwed up meant that I would be waiting in line, and hopefully not impact the race. Fortunately, I made my way to the front of the line with plenty of time, with the only consequence being a little dehydrated.

After paying my dues for the night before, I got into the corral for people who would be trying to run 7 minute miles. Slower than I think I could go, but my coach hadn’t given me an easy week, and I had rode a couple hours with a high school friend the day before (the reason why I wanted a beer, a burger and an ice cream sandwich). Also, this was going to be my first half marathon that wasn’t in a half ironman (only done one of those), and I was really unsure of how to pace the race.

After a message from the mayor, the race started. The first 6 miles went by no problem. I generally take the strategy of letting people go by me for the first bit, and then try to pull them back. Mentally for me, it is hard to get passed at the end of the race. I let a couple of groups get about a minute ahead of me, and starting at mile three, I decided it was time to push the tempo. Through the first 6 miles-38:30. 6:30 pace. So much for that seven minute pace.

I felt comfortable, and I had started to pull back the groups. I was running by myself, so I latched on to some guy who looked like he knew what he was doing, and we chatted for a bit. I find that when I talk to the other athletes, I don’t notice how much discomfort I am in. I don’t remember his name, but he was training for the Boston Marathon, and this was his final hard training run. I hope he made it through safely.

After chatting for a bit, my side tightened up, and I told the guy that he was on his own. He offered words of encouragement, but my pace slowed. From miles 7-8.5, I went from a 6:30 pace to above a 7 minute pace.  I had a goal of finishing in about 1:26-1:28, and that was slipping away. At the next aid station, I forced down a piece of banana, a gel, and two cups of liquid.

By mile 9, my cramp had loosened up, and I buckled down. I knew that if I could put down a couple miles at 6:15, I could get back on pace. By mile ten, my legs were cruising. I hit the marker at just above 1:05. Right back at pace, and I started to see the guy who had left me behind with the cramp.

Now, before the report ends, you must understand something about the course for the half: it is pancake flat, which is awesome. It is also through the streets of Oakland, where there are an infinite number of potholes, which is not awesome. Immediately after hitting mile 10, I rolled my ankle. The moment of excitement that I had gotten back on pace went immediately to a moment of fear-how would I finish the last three miles?

According to urban legend, when you roll your ankle, you are supposed to keep your shoe on until you can get ice on it. That thought went through my head, so I tried to run for another 200 yards and realized if I sucked it up and quit being such a pansy, I could finish.

The next three miles flew by. The pain in my ankle went down, and the race finishes around Lake Merritt, which I have run countless times. I knew exactly how fast I was going, how much faster I needed to go to catch the next person, and I started to pull back more runners. The last mile I was just at 6 minute pace, and I hit the finish line with a time of 1:24:21.

My mom and sister were at the finish-the perks of being home. I gave them a hug, cheered on my friends, and cursed my decision to run the race after going out the night before.