2022 Year in Review

Low Quantity, Low Quality (Part deux)

“My doctor told me that jogging could add years to my life.  I think he was right.  I feel ten years older already.”  Milton Berle

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”  Socrates

It's now January in the year of our Lord 2023 and another year has gone as quickly as it ushered in. 

I became disillusioned, outraged, and angry with our country and citizenry in 2021 and 2022 with the widening breaches of political divisions, degradation of society, social causes, chaos, and anarchy.  Watching the nation regress as our egocentric purported leaders continue tearing down what we had built prior to 2020 is very disturbing and disappointing. 

Whatever happened to the adage, “agree to disagree?”  It seems the country is living in an echo chamber.  EVERYTHING seems to be shamefully polarizing.  If not, someone will find a means make it that way – demagoguery, misogyny, censorship, mocking – just because you don’t agree with their narrative.  Unquestionably, dwelling on these issues isn’t particularly healthy so I have to find ways to disassociate from them.  Do I have any expectations 2023 will be a better year?  I hope so, but if we continue to march along the same path, it’s only a fool’s errand to think that way.  I digress.

I’ve kept up with my “year in review” write-ups for the last few years.  However, for 2022 I have reservations in calling this write-up an actual “review.”  With life in today’s world becoming more and more complex and subverted, I may have to refer to this write-up as a lesson on self-reflection instead.  

The first three months of 2022 consisted of limited running, to say the least.  I averaged a pathetic eight days out of each month running no more than five miles (and that was a stretch).  During the mid-spring season, I needed a goal – to run Two Cities half marathon in November.  I steadily increased my monthly mileage needed to complete a 13.1-mile run.  However, soon after Two Cities, I somehow completely abandoned running as if I turned off the running spigot.  Perhaps I suffered from the dreaded running burnout.  Maybe it was the disappointing and dispiriting results of the mid-term election.  Whatever one may call this hiatus, I completely tuned out and lost my focus, enthusiasm, and mojo.

I sat down to analyze my situation and asked the following questions:  Was it burnout?  Was it the election?  Was it the lack of any amiable goal?  Did I just need a break to refresh myself?

Cool off the burnout and put the election behind me.  I don’t consider burnout as a sign of weakness, but rather a method my body is signaling me to slow down.  I sensed it.  I felt exhausted most of the time.  My muscles weren’t recovering fast enough even after a long rest period.  I lacked any motivation to run.  “I’ll go out for a run tomorrow,” I told myself time and time again.  I was stressed and filled with negative thoughts and emotions from all the discontentment happening around me. 

Following the election and how the current administration continues to unfasten America piece by piece, I tried to keep up with things.  If things weren’t going well, I felt like I was simply treading water, trying to keep my head above the surface, going through life without thinking, moving from one thing to the next without making time to evaluate whether things are actually going well.  I found myself doing the same repetitive things, even if those things weren’t producing any meaningful results.  It wasn’t that I was no longer interested in running, I just needed to take a step back and make some needed adjustments to fall in love with running again.

The late Dr. George Sheehan penned several tomes about how running gave him the appetite he needed to live life with meaning and purpose.  When it came to running, he quipped, “The first half hour is for my body.  The last half hour, for my soul.”  I’ve heeded that advice during my runs as it gave me the strength and focus I needed to make it through the day.  However, ever since my 50-state quest concluded, running lacked its former luster.  I realized running and I needed a coffee break to reacquaint ourselves once again.

It's time for some refreshments.  Over the past year or so, I’ve had time to evaluate my priorities as well as time to reflect on my relationship with running.  Life is too short to do the things that made me miserable.  I’ve been patient long enough.  It’s time to make better use of my idle time and get back out on the roads. 

I’m a firm believer that running can often lead to a new beginning in life.  And as I undertake my new beginning in 2023, I hope to find that mental and spiritual energy I once had in my younger days but lost through nothing more than living life and its recent disappointments.

After more than two decades, I am grateful that I can still enjoy running, but I don’t always give running the credit it deserves and what it has brought to my life.  Hitting the streets with a casual run/walk allows me to decompress, ponder my thoughts, and put my mind in a better place.  I am grateful for my professional career, health, the places I’ve been, remaining injury free, being able to run, doing hard things and knowing I can accomplish anything.  Running and my cross-training activities have kept me relatively stable and well-balanced, fortunate to live a healthy life and being fully capable.  Taking a break from running is just an inconsequential inconvenience in the grand scheme of things because things could always be worse.    

Begin training with a realistic goal in mind.  Now that my 50-state adventure is over, it’s time to get back on track.  Perhaps I need another realistic goal to pursue – to run more half marathons and conceivably complete another marathon.  Might I suggest to myself Missoula, MT or my all-time favorite, Hatfield-McCoy.  Setting a goal means my training has a focus and a great way to stay motivated.  I enjoy the sense of achievement as I progress toward a target.

I would like nothing more than to run one hundred marathons, but I’ve come to accept the realization that my marathon running days are essentially behind me.  I still have the prerogative to change my mind, however.  I value the great memories of my 71 marathon experiences and races, but finishing a marathon is a tough row to hoe as one descends the backside of the proverbial hill.  I’m no longer chasing that next PR.  And after compelling my body to endure the physical trauma of marathoning during my 50-state expedition, the thought of running 26.2 miles isn’t as enticing as it once was.  In the meantime, I shall direct my attention to the more popular half marathon distance – an excellent endurance challenge for runners of all abilities, but without the post-race agony common after 26.2 miles.

Aside from running, I found myself traveling to the central coast on several occasions throughout 2022 for weekend getaways, chiefly to escape the valley’s summer heat.  It’s a godsend to breathe clean air, enjoy the cool Pacific draughts, riding bikes and running the beach strand. 

In September, I trekked northward to attend my high school reunion.  Reminiscing with former classmates brought me back to both simple and trying times.  It didn’t come as a surprise, but after all these years I was only able to recognize a handful of my classmates.  Many times, I had to glance at their name tags to clear the cob webs from my memory bank.  Most importantly, it was nice meeting up with contemporaries with whom I grew up with throughout elementary, junior high and senior high school.  From my perspective, I was taken back to see how much everyone aged.  I would bet I looked just as old from their perspective, also.

My one and only running achievement in 2022 was the new and improved Two Cities Marathon and Half in November.  The new course came with a renewed attitude.

Two Cities Half Marathon, Clovis, CA, 2:25:02

Since Two Cities’ existence, I’ve run the full course three times, the Fresno Half once and the Clovis Half five times (I preferred this course over the other one).  However, in 2021, race organizers redesigned a new course offering runners “a scenic and truly flat course,” even though the original courses were truly flat and involved matching scenery.  Instead of starting and ending at Fresno’s Woodward Park, the race now starts and finishes three miles to the east at Clovis Community College.

Over the past several years, I’ve had the pleasure of being a 2:10 pace leader.  It was a comfortable pace – something I’ve succeeded at many times over.  I was offered a 2:30 pacing slot this year; however, I opted out.  It was a tough decision, but I wanted to run the race for me.  The facets of my training outweighed the pressures and responsibilities of leading a runner to a specific time.  Perhaps I’ll get back into pacing as I put more races under my belt to regain my confidence, but for now, my body says I need some fine-tuning.

Now that the Two Cities races start and finish at Clovis Community College, residuals of the former Fresno and Clovis Half courses remain.  The half marathon course is basically a blend of the old Clovis and Fresno courses with some added new landscapes.  The full marathon course is nearly identical to the original course with some accompanying deviations through Woodward Park and Fort Washington.

My goal in this race was simple – better a 2:30 finish time.  Although I didn’t sustain a consistent 11:25 pace, I still managed to cross the finish line ahead of the 2:30 group.  Following the race, I know what I must do to get back into pacing form.

My 2022 yearly race stats are scant, at best.  For the record…

Race Stats:

Half marathons run: 1

Two Cities Marathon and Half, Clovis, CA – 2:25:02

 

In-person marathons run: 0

Virtual marathons run: 0

 

Number of fellow runners: 1,152

 

All-time marathon average to date (through 71 races):  4:51:32

Standard deviation: 0:28:58

Median finish time: 4:54:09

Mileage Stats:

Total miles run in 2022: 442.3 in 95/365 days – 4.66 miles/day average  

Race miles run in 2022: 13.1
Average half marathon pace: 11:04

Final thoughts

During my reunion visit, one question crossed my mind as I recognized some of my peers who excelled at sports.  What did I like least about PE?  It always boiled down to the feared mile.  The coach would send the class out for two laps around the parking lot and a loop around the baseball field with all my peers seemingly racing against me.  Looking back, I now realize I didn’t know the mechanics of how to run – it was just run.  We were instructed to just “go.”  For those summing up the rear, the coach would exclaim, “pick up the pace!”  Mentally, I wanted to, but realistically, there was no way.

I’ve been a consistent runner since the late nineties.  Since then, I’ve learned how to run.  Even though I still haven’t earned the coveted blue and yellow unicorn themed medal in my collection of finisher’s medals, I’m happy and proud of what I’ve accomplished thus far, and I’m hopeful that I have many more years of running ahead of me, but even if I don’t, I love what this sport has brought into my life.  I’ve analyzed my priorities and began to focus on the experience of running, instead of any target pace or distance. 

A PR is something most runners strive for with each run.  I’ve had my time in the sun, but now, I’ve come to accept that I am not in a place where PRs are really in my deck of cards; alternatively, I will consider my PWs a baseline to measure my development over time. 

Now that I’ve had time to evaluate my priorities and take a step back to look at the whole picture, I know I will get back there one day.  For 2023, I’ll be happy to maintain a consistent running routine supplemented with additional interests in cross-training, strength training and yoga.  I don’t even feel the need to set major goals for 2023, other than to continue to do what I can and be happy.  And if some road race pops up on my radar, I’ll look at that as a bonus.  As life gradually returns to a somewhat normal state and back into a normal training regimen, only then will I consider my next goal.

As always, it’s onward and upward.

Two Cities Half Marathon

 

Two Cities Half Marathon

Fresno, CA

6 November 2022

 

“I also realize that winning doesn’t always mean getting first place; it means getting the best out of yourself.  One of my greatest joys is inspiring other people to perform at their best.” – Meb Keflezighi

Following the conclusion of my 50-state quest, many of my colleagues approached me to ask if I'll continue pursuing my running hobby.  A hobby?  I've never really considered running a hobby, but rather as a way to keep fit.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines hobby as “the pursuit outside one’s regular occupation engaged in especially for relaxation.”  Though I may not see running as a relaxing activity, I see it as a way to clear my mind from my daily work irritations and superfluities, but most importantly, a way to decompress.

During the period of canceled road races throughout 2020, I found it difficult to motivate myself to properly maintain my fitness level required for the marathon distance.  I’d felt as though I were simply going through the motions, doing the least amount, as if I was fooling my brain thinking I was marathon ready.

In November 2021, after a prolonged hiatus, I signed up for the City to the Sea Half Marathon in San Luis Obispo, CA and quickly realized the lack of training and enthusiasm I once enjoyed.  I felt pretty good for the first two miles, but fatigue quickly consumed my impetus to endure any sort of steady running, as if I was reliving a chapter from my school days.

Looking back, I was that kid who wanted to hide behind some random building to skip running laps around my junior high school campus parking lot or navigate a cross country style trail run through the redwood trees on the eastern peripheries of the campus. With half-hearted attempts, I did them anyway.

In the seventh grade, I joined my school track team.  Not to run, but to compete in the shotput and a brief stint with the long jump.  A thin wiry kid tossing an eight-pound steel ball or jumping as far as I could into a pit of sand?  Go figure.  I never came close to a podium finish, but I tried, and that’s what counted.  That was the one and only letter I received.

As a youngster, I played some little league baseball and youth football.  I wanted to try my hand at soccer, but where I lived, apart from PE class, youth soccer clubs such as AYSO did not exist.  Soccer wasn’t a popular sport, and it didn’t take much for me to realize I wasn’t much of an athlete. 

During my short-lived nondescript athletic career, I gave up running and any type of organized sports.  However, I wasn’t entirely an indoor cat.  I enjoyed hunting, fishing, snow skiing, camping, and water sports.  I’ve even ventured out for some whitewater rafting and backpacking trips.  But not-being-athletic was the story I told myself about who I was, what I liked, and what my body wanted to do.  

In my early 30s, I found slightly more pleasure, or at least mental space, from running when my wife undertook a training regimen for her first marathon in Santa Clarita, CA.  I would follow her on my bicycle measuring miles (there were no Garmin watches) during long runs on the country roads through the orchards and fields near our home, carrying an extra pair of shoes, water, food, Band-aids, and other various provisions.  It was grassroots training, but it worked.  But for me, running was still rote.

That mindset began to slowly change in my mid-30s after completing my first sanctioned 10K.  As my wife had trained for the marathon, and because, to be honest, I didn’t like her doing things that I didn’t also do, I thought I would train for one as well.  And in 2000, I ran my first marathon in San Jose, surprisingly in under four hours setting a PR at the time and a benchmark for future marathons.  It was supposed to be a “one and done” marathon, but it wasn’t.

Early on, I was mired in the understanding that the only way to run was to try and run all the time by racking up the miles and throwing in some speed work.  The suggestion that strength and cross-training might actually make me a better runner?  Blasphemy.  All I understood was running and cardio. 

I’ve run seventy-one marathons and nearly forty half marathons during my running tenure, including running a marathon in all fifty states before California and most of the nation shuttered their doors.  As businesses resurrected themselves, I hit the gym practicing yoga, strength, and other cross-training exercises, to improve my running form.  Since then, I’ve restored most of my motivation and training, and now I’m ready to delve back into road racing by rocking this new half marathon course design.

Since Two Cities’ existence, I’ve run the full course three times, the Fresno Half once and the Clovis Half five times (I preferred this course over the other one).  However, in 2021, race organizers redesigned a new course offering runners “a scenic and truly flat course,” even though the original courses were truly flat and involve matching scenery.  Instead of starting and ending at Fresno’s Woodward Park, the race now starts and finishes three miles to the east at Clovis Community College.

Over the past several years, I’ve had the pleasure of serving as a 2:10 pace leader.  It was a comfortable pace – something I’ve succeeded at many times over.  However, this year I opted out of being a pace leader.  It was a tough decision, but I wanted to run the race for me.  I felt I had to test all the facets of my training over the pressures of leading anyone to a specific time.  Perhaps I’ll get back into pacing as I run more races to regain my confidence, but for now, my body says I need some fine-tuning.

The Expo/Packet Pick-up

The Clark Intermediate School gymnasium near downtown Clovis served as this years’ expo venue, replacing the larger New Covenant Community Church location in previous years.  Outside the gym’s portico, race planners displayed the official Acura lead-out pace car as well as an identical, but pink Acura welcoming anyone wishing to scribe their names or messages anywhere on the car with permanent marking pens.   Inside, confined to the basketball court, the small serpentine-shaped layout offered runners the opportunity to peruse the merchandise as various running and fitness vendors pitched their products to grab your attention. 

At the swag table, volunteers stuffed plastic gear bags with advertising flyers, an event short-sleeve tech shirt, and the coveted sweatshirt hoodie, unlike in previous years, were only given at the finish line.  A runner had to earn it back in the day.

Let’s do this

Now that the Two Cities races start and finish at Clovis Community College, some dregs of the Fresno and Clovis Half courses remain.  The half marathon course is basically a blend of the old Clovis and Fresno courses with some added new landscapes.  The full marathon course is nearly identical to the original course with some supplementary deviations through Woodward Park and Ft. Washington.

Given the improved parking availability over last year, my wife and I arrived an hour before race time to better secure a relatively close space at one of the college campus’ parking lots.  The cool, cloudy weather seemed ideal for a mid-autumn race before the sun rose over the cloud-obscured Sierra-Nevada mountains on a somewhat humid November morning.  With an impending rain event, threats of race day precipitation thankfully failed to transpire, but the higher dew point was certainly evident.

Diesel-powered portable light towers illuminated the starting line area in the pre-dawn hours.  During all the years I’ve run Two Cities, race organizers make certain they never skimp on porta-potty facilities at the race start.  This new venue was no exception.  With short lines, runners were in and out in just a few minutes.  Behind the porta-potty community, lines formed for race-day packet pick-up as other runners crowded around the bag drop tent waiting to drop off their clear plastic bags crammed with jackets, sweatshirts and other personal effects.

Waiting to start

Following the singing of the national anthem, the race began promptly at 0630 with the entire 1500-runner field of marathon and half marathon runners beginning with the same starting pistol.  The start of the 10K and 5K races were staggered between five-minute intervals.

I started the race towards the back third of the queue to avoid charging out of the chute and burning out too quickly.  My intuition was right because I have the propensity to get caught up in the moment only to fizzle-out within the first couple of miles.

Runners get set

At times, a half marathon feels good from start to finish.  I hoped, but I wasn’t banking on that thought.  As runners paraded down the college entrance road (basically a prolongation of Fine Avenue) making a right turn onto tree lined Beyhmer Avenue.  I didn’t focus on my pace, but rather directing my attention to the horde of runners around me doing all I can to avoid tripping someone from behind.  I’ve been tripped before and it’s not fun hitting the pavement.

Hearing the familiar chime and vibration of my Garmin, signaling the end of Mile 1, I glanced down to see a split time of 10:17.  Not a bad start knowing that I approached this run with a simple strategy – go out with a slow steady pace while maintaining a safe distance ahead of the 2:30 pace group.

Some runners flew by me weaving around slower runners or those who continue to walk two or three abreast in the middle of the main group as they comfortably chatted, impeding the flow of runners around them like a large rock in the middle of a creek.  All the while, my inner voice kindly informed me, “the first few miles are easy – enjoy them while they last.”

Traditionally, Two Cities falls on the first Sunday of November.  Coincidentally,  two days before election day.  One cannot avoid the abundance of annoying political advertising signs blighting each commercial center, vacant lot or intersection informing the electorate to “vote NO on Measure X” or “Elect Y for congress.”  Besides that, I didn’t notice any unique spectator signs I’d rather see – only the typical non-inspirational messages one sees at every race like you run better than the government, punch this for power, you got this or longest parade ever.

Once the number of runners eventually thinned out, I continued my relaxed steady pace, only stopping to walk through each aid station for a brief rest as I consumed some water and electrolytes.  Aside from the aid stations and along the streets, there weren’t many spectator gathering places.  It wasn’t long before I realized the lack of boisterous cheers, clanging of cowbells or exuberant crowds runners typically see at races.

As the course made a hard right turn onto Sheppard Avenue, sporadic potholes, pavement buckling, root intrusions from the ornamental broadleaf trees flanking the road or sections of alligator cracking became apparent, keeping each runner attentive as not to roll an ankle.  Fortunately, all of the localized street hazards were easily avoided.

Shortly after the fourth mile, runners veered right onto northbound Friant Road.  I preserved my steady conservative pace, in the meantime, keeping my ears pinned on other’s conversations.  I heard two guys discussing their weight struggles, notching new holes in their belts only to regain the lost weight.  One guy claimed he runs 56 miles a week, including ten miles on a treadmill every morning.  If that’s true, hats off to him for overcoming the extreme tedium a treadmill brings with it.

At around Mile 5.5, I caught sight of the lead half marathon runner rocketing past the eight-mile flag as he maintained an impressive and substantial lead over the second-place runner.  I kept my pace for the next half mile flying across the 10K timing mat in a time of 1:06:02 (10:39 pace).  Using some quick mental math, I predicted my finish time to be in the neighborhood of 2:20, more or less.  However, as my legs grew fatigued, I accepted a 2:20 finish may not be in the cards.

Hearing music along a race course is not unusual and is commonplace.  Musicians, bands, portable stereos or spectators blasting their own car boomboxes provide ample entertainment.  However, this course was different.  It wasn’t until near the half turnaround close to Copper Avenue I witnessed the first band, or any hint of music – a jazz band playing tunes I’ve never heard of.  Simply refreshing since the theme songs from “Chariots of Fire” or “Rocky” (among others) have been forever etched into my mind.

At Mile 7.2, half marathon runners doubled back around a raised median with a 180° turn.  Because of the number of runners around me, I jogged around the corner a little farther than I had to, asking a course marshal if I got extra points.  I was met with only a smile.  As the marathon runners forged forward up Friant Road, I wasn’t jealous, but rather finding comfort knowing I was less than half way to the finish. 

For the next couple of miles, the scarcity of spectators along Friant Road directed my attention to views of the Eaton Trail traversing portions of the inaquosus lands of Ft. Washington, Woodward Park, and the bluffs adjacent to the San Joaquin River.  Prior to rounding the left turn back onto Sheppard Avenue, I crossed the 8.9-mile timing mat with a time of 1:36:32 (10:50 pace).

I held a steady, and seemingly waning, pace up to Mile 10 as I cruised along Sheppard Avenue.  Possibly due to electrolyte imbalances, the unthinkable happened, my right calf muscle began to seize, compelling me to discontinue running for the next quarter mile.  The brief solace permitted me to enjoy the featured course highlight, the sounds of the Fresno State Bulldog Marching Band.  The energetic group of musicians performed a fan favorite, The Senior Fight Song.  With an uplifting change of pace, I needed a little energy enhancing of my own.

At the Mile 11 aid station, my Garmin indicated I was several minutes ahead of the 2:30 pace group.  I grabbed three cups of water and swallowed two of my go-to acetaminophen/caffeine caplets I use to knock down niggling muscle aches and pains.

I eased my pace to a certain degree waiting for the pain reliever to fully take effect.  The course turned north onto Willow Avenue about 0.1 mile before the final aid station near Mile 12.  I continued running through the throng of volunteers handing out water and electrolyte drinks declining any drinks offered, instead I focused on passing the runners who passed me during my downtime.  Up ahead, I fixated on the 12.1-mile timing mat, crossing with a split time of 2:14:11 (11:05 pace). 

I continued passing runners with less than one mile remaining setting operation “let no one pass” into action, but there was one runner I was unable to catch – the lead marathon runner.  Surrounded by several pace bicycles, he flew past me with a seemingly effortless cadence.  For a moment (albeit briefly), I wanted to keep pace with him to the finish, but I quickly realized, there was no way I could muster a 5:20 pace so late in the game. 

Leaving runners in the dust

I eagerly rounded the corner onto Beyhmer Avenue, as the finish line came into view off into the distance.  The clapping spectators enthusiastically informed runners, “you’re almost there!”  Drawing near to the campus entrance from whence we began, I eyed the finish line gantry structure, a beacon that signaled the end of my running adventure. 

Following the curvilinear alignment of orange traffic cones and the directions of a helpful volunteer, vigilant of the abrupt pavement edge around some road construction, I made my final kick, continuing to pass those who passed me just a few minutes prior as the finish line beckoned just a short distance ahead, stopping the clock with an official time of 2:25:02.  Goal accomplished.

Feeling a bit wobbly as I came to a stop, I gratefully accepted my unique finisher’s medal under the attentive eyes of the wonderful volunteer medical teams, who carefully observed finishers for any signs of serious medical conditions as they gave it all they had as they crossed the finish line.

A volunteer handed me a bottle of water as I exited the finish corral appearing as if I’d just stepped out of a sweltering sauna.  With a sweat-soaked shirt dripping in sweat, I sauntered my way to the post-race gathering area, encircled with portable metal safety barrier fencing, scattered with tables and chairs as a live band belted out tunes from the 1980s – songs I relate to.  Near the stage, runners lined up at the beer tent waiting for their complimentary beer courtesy of Michelob Ultra.

Breakfast is served

Borden är nu dukat!

A post-race staple of Two Cities is their traditional breakfast meal consisting of pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage links, croissant rolls, bananas and halos.  And one must not forget the return of the ice cream sundaes.  I even saw one runner, with an aura of excitement, proudly exhibiting his breakfast concoction – ice cream piled atop his pancakes, cloaked with whipped cream, peanut sprinkles and caramel syrup drizzled over the top. 

Preparing the sundaes

Following any long-distance run, I usually don’t have much of an appetite for food and that feeling may last for hours, but this time I was a bit hungry, but not for the pancake supreme I saw.  As my wife and I sat eating our breakfast, it again dawned on me – what a senseless hobby we partake, yet we do it again and again.  The stressful experience and exhausting efforts of long-distance running takes me days to fully recover.   

No matter how well prepared, race-day weather influences everything.  This was fairly good running weather, not ideal, but for that I was grateful since early November weather in Fresno can be warm.

In the days following the race, as the DOMS in my quads and hamstrings lingered, I know I have some work to do to resuscitate any semblance of my past half marathon times.  Now, with the weather being much cooler, and with the sun less intense this time of year, it’s time to place additional emphasis on my training.  No excuses.

RACE STATS:

Distance: Half marathon (13.1 mi).  My Garmin measured 13.20 miles. 

Date: 6 November 2022

Bib No.: 2294 

Weather at start: 55°F, overcast sky, slight easterly breeze

Gun time: 2:25:41

Chip time: 2:25:02

Average pace: 11:00 per mile

Average cadence: 158 steps per minute

Overall rank: 656 of 1152

Gender rank: 401 of 576

Division rank: 62 of 85

Elevation: 92 ft gain / 92 ft loss

Age graded score: 48.28%

Age graded time: 2:00:56

Course timing splits:  10K: 1:06:02     8.9 mi: 1:36:32     12.1 mi: 2:14:11

Garmin splits: 10:17, 10:11, 10:36, 10:15, 10:52, 10:53, 11:06, 10:44, 11:53, 10:53, 12:15, 11:53, 11:32, 8:57 (remaining 0.20)

LIKES / WHAT WORKED:

·         Very well-organized event from packet pick-up, immediate online results, the well-stocked aid stations along the course.

·         November’s mild weather.

·         Marathon and half started at 0630.

·         Not surprisingly, race swag comprised the basics: bib number, tech running shirt, hoodie sweatshirt and medal.  I believe the bull charging through a brick wall represents the school mascot, the Clovis Crush.

·         Personalized bibs, hot post-race breakfast, ice cream sundaes, free beer, live post-race entertainment.

·         Super friendly volunteer support.

·         Great spectator support.

·         Top-notch traffic control and course monitors.

·         Predominantly flat course with some minor rolling inclines.

DISLIKES / WHAT DIDN’T WORK:

·         Parking can be an issue.  Get there EARLY.

·         Venue location.  Participants must navigate miles of city streets to reach the college campus.  Woodward Park was easily accessible from the freeway.

·         The expo location at Clark Intermediate School.

Final thoughts:

2022 medal

Now that Two Cities is back to an annual race, substantial time, effort, money and planning is required to produce a safe and successful event.  However, race day doesn’t always coincide with our preparation.  I've toed enough start lines to know there are going to be some days you want to just simply do not want to run.   

Mentally, I was prepared, but the physical aspect was not 100 percent.  I’ve come to realize that one cannot run each and every race with the same desire or exhilaration as large-scale well-known races.

As I look back, a serious bout of food poisoning nearly got the better of me in Alabama.  I’ve suffered with hypothermia during a nor’easter in Pennsylvania, heat illness in West Virginia and got waterlogged during heavy rains in North Carolina.  I ran a post-midnight marathon near Nevada’s Area 51, and last years’ City to the Sea left me feeling like a wet blanket.  I survived, it was tough, but I learned, “I can do hard things.”

But if hard things lead yourself to toe every start line with trepidation over a chance to run the streets with the enthusiasm of hundreds of other runners, it may be time for an adjustment.  I’m not at that point yet and I’m going to continue running as long as my body allows me to.  This was my first race in over a year, and I did not allow any fears to dictate my attitude.

Legendary basketball coach John Wooden once said, “As long as you try your best, you are never a failure.  That is, unless you blame others.”

“As long as you try your best.”  That phrase is supposed to console you in the event of failure.  Reminding you that, if you put your best foot forward, then it doesn’t matter if you finished in the top third, the middle of the pack or came in last.

If a runner misses the mark at a race because they lack the skill of running, other runners do offer words of encouragement.  After all, running takes a lot of practice, drive and determination.

Losing my usual fervor and the get-up-and-go over the past couple of years took its toll on my physical and mental well-being.  My limited miles were primarily intended for the purpose of stress relief, while just getting by to stay (dare I say) “10K ready.”  I neglected all sorts of speed and tempo work, and in all other façades of my training.

Considering my half marathon performance, I feel I’m again ready for race day.  Ready to hit the road again. Ready for some sense of normalcy.  And ready to get back to doing what I love, 13.1 miles at a time (let’s not overdo it now), no matter my finish time.  I’m prepared to take my lumps with this irrational hobby of mine.

As always, it’s onward and upward.