Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sapper Joe 50K
Catherine and I both ran the Sapper Joe trail race yesterday morning out at Camp Williams. Catherine ran the 15K, and I ran the 50K. It was a good day for both of us: Catherine finished top 5 in the women's 15K, and I won the 50K and set a course record. For anyone who's interested, I've posted a full report of my race on my training blog.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
After all these years, Landis comes clean
I woke up in the middle of the night and decided to check my email before returning to bed. The first thing I saw was an email from Mark with a link to this article in the Wall Street Journal.
Regarding doping, I became a cynic long ago. I always knew something like this would happen someday, but I'm still surprised now that it's happened.
Before I go on, I should acknowledge that none of Landis's accusations have been substantiated yet. But I don't doubt them. Cycling is full of rumors and vague accusations, but Landis has been very specific in naming names and describing exactly when and how the doping took place. After his prolonged legal battle, I'm sure Landis learned enough about libel laws to know better than to make stuff like this up. Besides, what he says is much easier to believe than the alternative (that Armstrong et al are clean). You don't have to trust Landis or even like him--it's hard to believe he's making this stuff up.
It's disheartening. If everything Landis says is true, can anyone believe that any ProTour rider (at least, any rider who wins things) is clean? And if not, that means that every developing rider with genuine talent will at some point in his career have to choose between integrity and success. That's sad.
I wonder why Landis chose to come forward now. After all, he still has (had) a career in cycling (although not like he used to, or like the riders he accuses still have). And his emails will no doubt lose him many friends and cause him plenty of trouble. But I'm glad he came forward, because someone needed to do it.
Of course, it's not like riders haven't come forward before, and I doubt this will change anything. The European cycling world will probably use this to discredit American cyclists while celebrating the accomplishments of riders like Contador. And the sporting world in general will probably use this to discredit cycling while celebrating the accomplishments of other "clean" athletes (does anyone know exactly how many soccer player were implicated in Operacion Puerto? Why do we never hear about them?). And life will go on as usual.
Oh well.
Anyways, it's late and I've been typing away without much thought. But I felt like I needed to write something before I went back to sleep, and I stand by everything I've written (except the typos).
Regarding doping, I became a cynic long ago. I always knew something like this would happen someday, but I'm still surprised now that it's happened.
Before I go on, I should acknowledge that none of Landis's accusations have been substantiated yet. But I don't doubt them. Cycling is full of rumors and vague accusations, but Landis has been very specific in naming names and describing exactly when and how the doping took place. After his prolonged legal battle, I'm sure Landis learned enough about libel laws to know better than to make stuff like this up. Besides, what he says is much easier to believe than the alternative (that Armstrong et al are clean). You don't have to trust Landis or even like him--it's hard to believe he's making this stuff up.
It's disheartening. If everything Landis says is true, can anyone believe that any ProTour rider (at least, any rider who wins things) is clean? And if not, that means that every developing rider with genuine talent will at some point in his career have to choose between integrity and success. That's sad.
I wonder why Landis chose to come forward now. After all, he still has (had) a career in cycling (although not like he used to, or like the riders he accuses still have). And his emails will no doubt lose him many friends and cause him plenty of trouble. But I'm glad he came forward, because someone needed to do it.
Of course, it's not like riders haven't come forward before, and I doubt this will change anything. The European cycling world will probably use this to discredit American cyclists while celebrating the accomplishments of riders like Contador. And the sporting world in general will probably use this to discredit cycling while celebrating the accomplishments of other "clean" athletes (does anyone know exactly how many soccer player were implicated in Operacion Puerto? Why do we never hear about them?). And life will go on as usual.
Oh well.
Anyways, it's late and I've been typing away without much thought. But I felt like I needed to write something before I went back to sleep, and I stand by everything I've written (except the typos).
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Red Mountain 30K
It's been too long. But not because I haven't had anything to write about. For example, since my last post I shaved my beard (and my head), Catherine started her new job full time, I committed to law school at BYU, Catherine and I had our body compositions measured at the University of Utah's exercise science lab, and I finally met my brother and sister in law. Any of those could have provided material for a blog post, but I was lazy, so instead all you get is this paragraph. Sorry.
Anyways, Catherine and I went down to St. George this weekend for the Red Mountain 30K. I originally signed up for the 50K, but I decided that I'd rather run the shorter race and train through it than run the longer race and take a week for recovery afterward. Since I'm still new to running, I though this would be better for me overall, and half a week later I stand by my decision.
The race started at 7:00, but because the course was a point to point we had to be at the finish in Ivins by 6:00. From there, the race volunteers shuttled us to the start, just west of Veyo and up the canyon from Gunlock.
The course was not technical, but it was fast and beautiful. From the start, we ran about 12 miles down the canyon to Highway 91, which we then followed back into Ivins. The course ran long (19.1 miles instead of 18.6) and descended 1,500 feet while climbing only 500.
Catherine and I knew this would be a small race, but we were surprised to see that there were only 12 runners at the start (there were about 50 runners in the 50K). Small fields like that don't usually provide fierce competition, but they do make for a friendly, low-key atmosphere, and during the 20 minutes or so we spent waiting for the start I think Catherine and I met all 10 of our fellow racers.
When I decided to race the shorter distance, I decided to treat the race as a fast training run. Instead of going out too hot from the start, I wanted to force myself to settle into a hard but comfortable pace so that I could still have enough left in my legs to speed up at the end. Based on my times from other races, I thought breaking 2 hours was a reasonable goal--on a true 30K, that would require a pace of
6:27 per mile.
When we finally started, I found myself alone immediately, and I stayed that way for the entire race. The downhill grade and the perfect weather (it was freezing at the start but things heated up quickly) let me push harder than expected. I ended up averaging 6:11 per mile for the entire race and came in comfortably under 2 hours, even with the extra half mile. And I felt good enough at the end to crank out the final mile in 5:55.
I was a little embarrassed when I crossed the finish line, and even more so when the organizer gave me a big trophy. I didn't (and still don't) feel like I deserved any special recognition--I won because there wasn't any competition, not because I'm especially fast. (To drive that point home, the second finished came in nearly 30 minutes behind me, and he missed a turn and cut more than a mile off the course.) Still, my performance does tell me that I'm getting faster.
After eating and drinking a little food, I left my shoes and headed back onto the course to wait for Catherine. When she came along she was looking strong, especially since she had just run farther than she ever had before. She was the second woman across the line, too. As always, I was happy to see her.
We went back to Grandma and Grandpa's house for a shower and a nap, and then we stopped by the Saint George temple (Jeppsen-history enthusiasts will recall that that's where I proposed to Catherine) on our way home. It was a busy weekend, but we had a good time. We'll probably be back next year.
Anyways, Catherine and I went down to St. George this weekend for the Red Mountain 30K. I originally signed up for the 50K, but I decided that I'd rather run the shorter race and train through it than run the longer race and take a week for recovery afterward. Since I'm still new to running, I though this would be better for me overall, and half a week later I stand by my decision.
The race started at 7:00, but because the course was a point to point we had to be at the finish in Ivins by 6:00. From there, the race volunteers shuttled us to the start, just west of Veyo and up the canyon from Gunlock.
The course was not technical, but it was fast and beautiful. From the start, we ran about 12 miles down the canyon to Highway 91, which we then followed back into Ivins. The course ran long (19.1 miles instead of 18.6) and descended 1,500 feet while climbing only 500.
Catherine and I knew this would be a small race, but we were surprised to see that there were only 12 runners at the start (there were about 50 runners in the 50K). Small fields like that don't usually provide fierce competition, but they do make for a friendly, low-key atmosphere, and during the 20 minutes or so we spent waiting for the start I think Catherine and I met all 10 of our fellow racers.
When I decided to race the shorter distance, I decided to treat the race as a fast training run. Instead of going out too hot from the start, I wanted to force myself to settle into a hard but comfortable pace so that I could still have enough left in my legs to speed up at the end. Based on my times from other races, I thought breaking 2 hours was a reasonable goal--on a true 30K, that would require a pace of
6:27 per mile.
When we finally started, I found myself alone immediately, and I stayed that way for the entire race. The downhill grade and the perfect weather (it was freezing at the start but things heated up quickly) let me push harder than expected. I ended up averaging 6:11 per mile for the entire race and came in comfortably under 2 hours, even with the extra half mile. And I felt good enough at the end to crank out the final mile in 5:55.
I was a little embarrassed when I crossed the finish line, and even more so when the organizer gave me a big trophy. I didn't (and still don't) feel like I deserved any special recognition--I won because there wasn't any competition, not because I'm especially fast. (To drive that point home, the second finished came in nearly 30 minutes behind me, and he missed a turn and cut more than a mile off the course.) Still, my performance does tell me that I'm getting faster.
After eating and drinking a little food, I left my shoes and headed back onto the course to wait for Catherine. When she came along she was looking strong, especially since she had just run farther than she ever had before. She was the second woman across the line, too. As always, I was happy to see her.
We went back to Grandma and Grandpa's house for a shower and a nap, and then we stopped by the Saint George temple (Jeppsen-history enthusiasts will recall that that's where I proposed to Catherine) on our way home. It was a busy weekend, but we had a good time. We'll probably be back next year.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
New lengths
This weekend's Buffalo Run 50K was my first baby step into the world of ultra running, and as such it was a bit of a learning experience. But it was a most positive experience, and I'm already looking forward to more. I've already written a race report on my other blog, so I'll just record a few more observations here.
The initial results showed me in eighth place overall and first in my age group. By the time the results were posted online the next day, I'd moved into seventh overall, and by the time the official results were posted I was in sixth (at this rate, I may win the race by the end of the month). I'd say I did okay, considering that I've only been running for two months, and earlier this week I was questioning whether I should have even signed up for the 50K instead of the 25K.
Of course, it's not like I'm completely new to this. Fitness is transferable, and all my time on a bike over the last few years certainly counts for something. And I finished 40 minutes behind the overall winner. But he seems like a legitimate (and much more experienced) trail racer, So I'm still pleased with my results this weekend.Although I'm happy with the results, the race was far from perfect. For one thing, I somehow managed to get lost in Bountiful on the way to Antelope Island. As a result, we didn't even make it to the race until 10 minutes before the start, which left me rushing for a bathroom and barely making it to the start on time. In my hurry, I also failed to tie my shoes properly, which would cause blistering later. And of course, I didn't eat as much as I should have. Surprise.
Anyways, I felt pretty good when the race started, and as I approached the end of the first lap I found myself comfortably in fourth place and feeling good. Unfortunately, I was a little confused about the course, and I didn't realize I was supposed to return to the start before beginning my second lap. (I later found out I wasn't the only confused runner on the course.)
Even more unfortunately, I didn't realize my mistake until six or seven miles into my second lap. Obviously, by then it was too late to backtrack. At first I was crushed. I figured my race was over, so I decided to walk and wait for Catherine, who was running the 25K, and finish with her. But then I thought that maybe if I finished the lap and then ran the missing section of course before crossing the finish line, my time would still count (it did).
So I started running again. But by then the damage had been done, and I was no longer in the game mentally. Which was too bad, because by then I was starting to feel the effects of running farther, longer and faster than I ever had before. Without my focus, I had a hard time pushing through the pain, and the last ten miles were a mix of shuffling and walking, with some real running thrown in sporadically. In fact, as I approached the finish I thought I'd rather just cross the line and take a DNF rather than run back up the hill I had skipped earlier in the lap. But Josh, who was waiting at the finish, offered to run back up with me, and that provided enough of a distraction for me to finish the race in 4:32:37.
Catherine crossed the line about 30 minutes after I did, and she did it with a more spring in her step than I did. Her race was the farthest she had ever run, too, and we both agreed it was more pain than pleasure. But still worth the effortAfter, the race, we spent a little time hanging out with Molly, Marcus and Josh, who had come out to watch us finish. It's amazing how much it means to have a little support at the race, and Catherine and I are glad they could make it.
After a long day on the trails, neither of us had any appetite for the buffalo stew waiting at the finish. Fortunately, Tigger was more than happy to eat our share.
With my first 50K in the books, I'm already looking forward to my second. Catherine and I are heading down to St. George in a month for the Red Rock 50K. I'll run the 50K, and she'll run the 30K. I predict faster times for both of us, thanks to a course profile that looks like this:
instead of this:
GPS Report - March 27, 2010 (Buffalo Run 50K)
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Fall plans
First, I realize that the details of my training are boring to a lot of people, so I'm going to stop posting training updates here. Besides, I've been posting them somewhere else for the last two months, making updates here redundant. I'll still talk about races, training, and adventures on this blog, but it won't be the focus. I'm not sure what the new focus will be, but I'll come up with something. Or maybe I'll avoid a specific focus and just write about whatever is on my mind. Or maybe I'll run out of ideas and go back to posting training updates. We'll see.
Second, I mentioned last week that I'd been accepted to law school and that the formal acceptance letter, as well as a scholarship offer, were in the mail. They both came today, and I'm happy to say that I've been offered a full-tuition scholarship to BYU's law school. Which pretty much means that's what I'll be up to in the fall.
I haven't committed to anything officially, but it's hard to imagine what it would take to get me to pass up this opportunity. Even if I get accepted to one of the other, more highly ranked programs I've applied to, I doubt any of them will offer to pay my tuition. And even if they did, I'm not sure if it would be worth it for us to leave Catherine's full-time job here in Salt Lake.
I'm excited about going back to school. I'm also a little anxious, especially since I once had a roommate who was a first-year law student. I love my free time, but it looks like I won't have much next year. But the degree will open some doors for me, and I think BYU will be a good fit.
For years I've been saying I'd like to go back to school. It looks like I'm finally going to do it.
Second, I mentioned last week that I'd been accepted to law school and that the formal acceptance letter, as well as a scholarship offer, were in the mail. They both came today, and I'm happy to say that I've been offered a full-tuition scholarship to BYU's law school. Which pretty much means that's what I'll be up to in the fall.
I haven't committed to anything officially, but it's hard to imagine what it would take to get me to pass up this opportunity. Even if I get accepted to one of the other, more highly ranked programs I've applied to, I doubt any of them will offer to pay my tuition. And even if they did, I'm not sure if it would be worth it for us to leave Catherine's full-time job here in Salt Lake.
I'm excited about going back to school. I'm also a little anxious, especially since I once had a roommate who was a first-year law student. I love my free time, but it looks like I won't have much next year. But the degree will open some doors for me, and I think BYU will be a good fit.
For years I've been saying I'd like to go back to school. It looks like I'm finally going to do it.
Friday, March 19, 2010
And this relates to what?
While reading the latest Mailbag entry on velonews.com, this letter struck me as odd:
Dear Velo,
Here is an incident that would have happened only in a women’s race. A few years ago, during the Cascade Cycling Classic, downtown criterium, a rider was forced wide on a turn. She hit the curb and had a scary crash, landing flat on her back. After missing a lap, she got back in the race. Between the curb and her landing, she and her bike hit my wife and son-in-law.
After the race, she rode back to see if all of us were OK, even though she was hurt (and abandoned the next day).
I really can’t imagine a male pro doing that.
Dennis Krakow
Bend, Oregon
I don't frequently read the letters on velonews.com, so maybe I'm reading this out of context. In fact, I hope I am. Because by itself, this letter makes me think that some guy suddenly felt the need to proclaim that because one female racer was nice to him and his family several years ago, male racers are jerks.
And that's kind of weird.
Dear Velo,
Here is an incident that would have happened only in a women’s race. A few years ago, during the Cascade Cycling Classic, downtown criterium, a rider was forced wide on a turn. She hit the curb and had a scary crash, landing flat on her back. After missing a lap, she got back in the race. Between the curb and her landing, she and her bike hit my wife and son-in-law.
After the race, she rode back to see if all of us were OK, even though she was hurt (and abandoned the next day).
I really can’t imagine a male pro doing that.
Dennis Krakow
Bend, Oregon
I don't frequently read the letters on velonews.com, so maybe I'm reading this out of context. In fact, I hope I am. Because by itself, this letter makes me think that some guy suddenly felt the need to proclaim that because one female racer was nice to him and his family several years ago, male racers are jerks.
And that's kind of weird.
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