Half Marathon for Climate: Magnificent Fail

This blog post was originally going to be about running three half marathons in three weeks, but after Saturday's race, it's now much more interesting. The first two races, the Snoqualmie Valley Half (beautiful) and the Rock n Roll Seattle 5K and half (fun), were enjoyable and well-organized.

Half #3 of 3 was the Half Marathon for Climate. I chose this one because it was close to home, was a nice course, and the finish was a couple of blocks away from our favorite local brewery. This one was such a stunning implosion of failures that it's hard to know where to begin. The spectacular scale of the cluster-f**ked-upness makes this post run long. It might be faster to list what went right.

• Shirts were there.
• Food truck was there, and the food was free, as promised.

Here's the short version of what went wrong.

• No bibs. Didn't matter, there was no way to time anyone anyway.
• No information about anything.
• Four water stops, unmarked. The temperature was pushing 90 after a season of low 60's.
• No crossing guards or course monitors.
• No course markings.
• Where the hell is the finish? Not where advertised, and not marked.
• No promised free beer (or I couldn't find it).
• No medical staff.
• Website jacked up on Monday following the race.

Here's my theory. A group of 20-somethings (who are arrogant enough to think they already know everything, because the 20's are worse than puberty) are sitting around drinking and bitching about politics. Someone says, "Hey, why don't we put on a race to raise funds for an environmental cause?" OK, that's a laudable idea. Only problem is, no one in the group has ever run a race. No one in the group has any runner friends. No one in the group has seen a running magazine. No one in the group has ever even spectated at a race. No one in the group has the slightest clue. They throw together a decent, if information-lacking, website, set up a way to take people's money, find one (only one, of the many) available websites to advertise on, print shirts, and think they're done.

Seriously. That's what it felt like. I would put more thought into planning a block party.

I found this event on the biggest local running calendar, seattleruns. It looked reasonably legit, but I wasn't going to pay $75 for it. I contacted the organizer, and asked if she could use some pre-race help in exchange for a discount. Sure! Paypal $40. That's a little odd, but it's a donation, and I figured I'd register in the morning. (Usually they send you a promo code and you go register online using that code; other times you register with paper forms the day-of.) Just show up at 8:30 for a 10:00am start.

But.

I get dropped off, and there's one small canopy set up, some piles of shirts on the ground, and a totally-lost friend of hers who has zero idea about anything, but is friendly enough. I don't know if he was simply kept completely out of the loop or if he is extraordinarily inattentive, but whatever. After we stand around for ten minutes or so, the organizer comes screaming up with a tire that is hissing air and quickly going flat. Her passenger (who seems to have it together more than she), hops out and trots off with another volunteer to find water for the water coolers. What happened to the tire? Apparently she hit a curb on the way over. WTF. Ummm. Ok. She runs off to a mechanic to get the spare put on the car, but is gone forever, with less than an hour and a half before the start and nothing set up, and no one there that has any idea what's going on.

Meanwhile, there are no water sources to be found. We are at a city park, and the water spigots require some sort of key tool to open, and no employees are around. Friend-With-A-Clue and Volunteer load some of the coolers into Volunteer's car, and take off for friend's house (3 miles away) to fill the coolers. They also are gone forever.

By now it's approaching 9am, and people are starting to show up. Lost Friend then informs me that some email went out the night before about bibs not arriving in time. She had suggested to him that we randomly assign numbers to people, write it on their hand or something, and collect times that way. It's unclear to me what any of this was supposed to accomplish, as I see zero evidence of any timing mechanism. Sigh. I have already concluded that the day was going to be a massive cluster, and that the best I could do was calm folks down and have them join me in a no-pressure training run.

I spent my time informing people about the lack of bibs, and if they cared about their time, they should just keep track of it (most of us had phones or watches), and inform (whoever) at the (wherever) finish. Legitimate questions are being asked, and Lost Friend is deer-in-the-headlights. Is there a gear check? [What's that?] Are there timing mats? [Huh?] Is the finish marked? Is the course marked? [I don't know.] How many water stops are there? How are you getting people back to the start (it was a point-to-point)? [Blank stare.] Are.You.Shitting.Me?

After about a half hour of foolishness (and by now many more people are standing around confused and annoyed), I finally tell Lost Friend to call the organizer and find out some of these things. Her car has a flat, but her phone should be working. Sheesh. Answers are somewhat insufficient, but we get a little more information. Finally, the organizer shows up, all atwitter. She is just beginning to realize she has massively screwed up, but it's unclear to me that she fully understands the magnitude just yet.

In addition to all of this insanity, the weather was a major concern. It's been a cold year here in Seattle. Highs have been in the 60's. I can count on one hand how many days we've had over 70. Today it was supposed to get up to the 90's, and the run didn't begin until 10am. Not only hot, but also a lot of non-heat-conditioned runners. Between the 10K and the half, about 200 people had signed up. Water is a serious concern on a day like this. I was grateful that I had brought a (full) water bottle with me. Many people had done the same, but many had not, and it was a major issue. Four stops in 13 miles was nowhere near enough hydration for a day like today.

Finally we are rounded up into a gaggle, and told to start. Ummm. Ok. May as well be out for a solo run.

The course was wonderful, and could be a very nice event, if properly done. It was along a Rails-to-Trail path that runs along Lake Washington, and though it is urban, it's beautiful with plenty of trees and scenery. It's a shared path, with cyclists and pedestrians alike. At least it's hard to get lost…until the finish, or the split if you're running the 10K. I have no idea when the 10K course branched off. Shrug.

The day is heating up, so pacing is very important. I started out slow, and never sped up. Three miles go by. Where the hell is the water?? If I didn't have mine with me, I would be suffering by now.

Somewhere after 4.5 miles, I see the organizer and someone else standing by the path with some bottles of water and Gatorade. Of course, they're on the other side of the bike part of the path, so runners have to get in the way of cyclists if they want water. I'm not sure many people even saw her there. I still had plenty of water, so I kept going.

Just before mile 7, I spotted some random coolers stacked by the side of the road, with some paper cups. Of course there was no trash can, so people were trying to at least keep all of the empty cups in a pile. I drank up, filled up my bottle, shook my head at the incompetence, and got on my way.

I don't remember if there was another stop before mile 11, but by then it was really heating up. I had passed a beautiful public pool a few miles back and seriously considered trotting over there and jumping in, but had refrained. Now I was eyeballing the private boat launches into Lake Washington and considering a quick dip. Instead, I just reminded myself that I was only two miles out and slowed down more, still shaking my head.

I never did see any course monitors at any of the road crossings (required by law here in Washington state), or any course markings anywhere. There was no indication of where we were supposed to leave the path and head toward the still-mysterious finish. I guess it was asking too much to go get some chalk powder and draw some arrows or write "Climate runners this way" on the pavement. There was another runner standing around there, waiting for her son, and she told me to leave the path and turn right onto the street. (I really hope her son wasn't lying somewhere with heat stroke, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.) I exited the path, and headed towards the advertised finish, which was at the Community Center.

Got to the Community Center, and no one was there. Crickets. What in the holy f**k. Walked across the street to a local brewery, drank a large glass of cold water, and sat down in the shade, totally pissed off. Two other runner-looking types walked by, and said something that made it clear they had participated. They had somehow missed all of the water stops until mile 11 -- I honestly don't know how they finished. I commented that I couldn't find the bleeping finish, and they said, "Oh, it's right back there a block or two." Seriously? I walked right by it? Went back a couple of blocks and sure enough, there was a food truck parked in a business parking lot (NOT the Community Center), and a few stray runners standing around. Absolutely zero signage. Of course, there was NO medical staff anywhere at any point during the day. Didn't see the organizer, Lost Friend, Volunteer, or Friend-With-A-Clue either. I don't know where they were. Never did find the promised free beer, but as hot as it was, I didn't even care.

The so-called finish wasn't at the Community Center, but it WAS across the street from our favorite local brewery, so I grabbed my free food and shirt, and wandered over to the brewery to lay on their sofa before puking or passing out. By now my calves were completely seized up due to lack of electrolytes, and I really didn't want to pass out on the sidewalk. After laying there for a few minutes, I cooled down, the legs stopped seizing, and I felt pretty good after using their restroom to wash the crust of salt off my face.

I was extremely grateful that all I had to do was call my sis-in-law, who lives about 1.5 miles away. My car was parked at her house, so she came over, we enjoyed a beer, went and got some more food, then went home. The people who had parked at the start (13 miles away, remember) had to find the organizer (or someone, I have no idea how it worked), and call Lyft for a ride back to their car. Completely half-assed.

Oh, and I never registered, so haven't been on any of the follow-up mailing lists. Go figure.

Course: Outstanding.
Event: On a score of 1-5, zero.

Half #75: 3M Austin Half Marathon

There's a reason this one is called "Down hill to downtown" – the overall elevation gain is negative. Oh sure, there's some slight inclines, but nothing that qualifies as a hill. The declines are equally mild, but pleasantly noticeable. It's a good race if you want to set a PR.

I had no such ambitions; I just wanted to see how it felt to do 13 miles on a couple of months of decent training. I haven’t been remotely prepared for an event since the end of 2014, and was anticipating a pleasantly suck-free race. Even though I did a number of events in 2015 (a marathon, six half-marathons, and a few shorter runs), I was woefully under-prepared for almost all of them. It was time to actually enjoy one, start to finish. It was encouraging that the 12K's of Christmas run in December had gone very well, even though I was wearing a "borrowed" pair of test shoes. (FYI, Brooks Ghost running shoes feel great!) I was in town to visit my elderly mother and other family, so a Sunday morning run fit in nicely.

Typical of January in Austin, the weather was great. 30-something to start, warming to low-50s by the time I finished. Perfect running weather! There was no strategy for this one. I have misplaced my Garmin, and in my morning grogginess, forgot to even put on the FitBit. I was taking a risk by wearing my Newtons, which I had only run in a couple of times in the past year. As I was crawling into bed the night before, too tired to go out again, I realized I had forgotten to buy any food for a pre-race breakfast. Dammit. Scrounged around and found a protein bar in my luggage, so that was breakfast. My training runs had only been 3-5 miles, so I didn’t know how I would feel after that. Just gonna take it as it comes, since I was already half-assing it anyway.

I enjoyed eavesdropping and watching the sun rise while we all waited to start at 7am. A chilly breeze was threatening to kick up and become uncomfortable, but thankfully it never took hold. I put myself in the back of the 2:20 group, and tried to wake up. At some point I realized I had checked my sunglasses with my jacket. Sigh. The half-assery continues. At least I had remembered to put on pants.

Finally we were on our way. And it felt great. I was passing a lot of folks, but figured that would come to an end before too long -- it always does. But it felt good to start that way, especially when the vast majority of people that I passed were obviously at least twenty years younger than me!

Passed the 5K mat and course clock, and was pleased. Since I was gadget-free (due to my own incompetence), and there were almost no course clocks, I had no idea how I was actually doing, only that it felt good and I was still passing people. 5K in 31:something... I'd overheard someone earlier comment that it took six minutes to get to the start line, so I was doing pretty close to 10-minute miles. My treadmill runs had been considerably slower, so I was pleased with that pace.

The race is point-to-point, beginning up in Northwest Austin and finishing just shy of the Capitol building. The course isn't particularly scenic, but it's pleasant enough and well-supported. The neighborhoods are fun, with locals offering up anything from bowls of Gummi bears to small cups of Shiner Bock. I gave the Shiner some thought, but decided against it. That was around mile 6 or so, and I just wasn’t awake enough to find it appealing. Guys, can you move the beer down to mile 11?

Hit the 10K mat at an hour and a handful of minutes, deducting six, hmmm, pretty close to an hour (1:01:31). Maintaining the pace, great! Not long after that I caught and passed the 2:15 pace group. Can I possibly catch the 2:10 group? Not likely. Took a gel around mile 8, and choked that down. It was stiff, like it had been out in the 30-degree weather all night, so was the consistency of thick paste. Eating it, I was a squirrel with peanut butter and it took a few tries. But it's calories.

The clock at 9 miles was under 1:30. Seriously? How is that happening? Well, I guess I AM still passing people...consistently. Is it possible that I will PR today? Not gonna kill myself trying, but will push a little harder than I had planned and see what happens. Was noticeably tired by now, but still felt good, didn't hurt anywhere, and was still passing people. Why not? By mile 11 I did have to start taking walking breaks (until then I had only walked at aid stations), and was very very tired for mile 13. Tried not to walk, but was just running out of gas. Was still passing people when I did run, but needed those breaks.

Wonder how I'm doing for time? Never did catch the 2:10 group, but...

Rounded the last corner, and saw the finish clock getting close to 2:15…which meant I MIGHT break 2:10. Awesome! Forced myself to trot it in, and finished with a very respectable time of 2:09:35. Just under 10-minute miles. How did that happen? Couldn’t remember exactly what my PR was, but knew I was close. Didn’t beat it, but was close. Hey, I'll take it! Not a bad result for a no-expectation day!

Collected the medal (which is pretty cool), obligatory banana, water, etc., and found Shirley. Wandered into the nearby Starbucks with all the other finishers and relaxed a bit. Spent the rest of the afternoon yelling at my mother (she’s deaf as a post sometimes), then caught my flight back to Seattle.

The next day, I verified that my current PR is 2:07:56, so I missed it by a minute and a half. Not too shabby. This was half-marathon #75, but only my third under 2:10.

Overall: Course is easy and pleasant enough. Event is very well-managed, with about 6500 runners. Swag is interesting: an eclectic assortment of 3M products. Plenty of water stops, Nuun for electrolytes (not any nastier than other drinks of that ilk), gels around mile 8. Where there are spectators, they're laid-back and fun. The finish is very nice, in front of the Museum of Texas History with the Capitol as a backdrop. I didn't take the shuttle back to the start, but it looked like there were plenty of buses, and I didn't notice any long lines waiting for them. If you happen to be in town, do it!

How to Half-Ass a PR

The Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon was half #58 for me, and I was completely unprepared, so I had zero expectations. I just wanted to enjoy the day without more than the usual aches and pains, and preferably with none. However, despite all the odds, I beat my personal best time by almost two minutes, and had a very good day. Crazy!

I present the Happel Half-Assed Half-Marathon Training Plan.

Week 1:

1. Move to a new apartment.
2. Have PRK surgery on both eyes, rendering yourself useless for at least three full days. Don't bother to eat for these three days, as that requires too much effort to rouse from the Vicodin-induced pain-avoiding slumber.
3. Spend rest of the week trying to find basic items, such as running tights, running socks, favorite running shoes, etc. In the process, find some dress socks and clean underwear.
4. End the week participating in a 30-hour event (Bourbon Chase relay). The night before the relay, make sure you make wise diet choices such as Apple Pie Bourbon samples and Town Branch Rum. Continue the bourbon-sample diet throughout the event.

Week 2:

1. Improve diet slightly by finally going to store and buying some fresh fruit, and lay off the burgers.
2. Fight eye-strain headaches and exhaustion while waiting for eyes to heal. Continue to sleep as much as possible after miserable 8-hour days of staring at laptop. Hope the eyes settle down soon.
3. Wear sweat pants to training sessions at gym, since you can't find the gym shorts and prefer not to wear spandex.
4. End the week traveling to a 40th-anniversary celebration of your high school opening. Participate in multiple events, ensuring you don't get enough rest. Continue to monitor the diet with genuine Tex-Mex and Starbucks coffee and pastries. Return home to unpacked apartment with a severe case of hotel-head sniffles and dry coughing.

Week 3:

1. Give up on finding gym shorts and wear spandex shorts to training session at gym.
2. Eat more of that fresh fruit you bought in week 2. Contemplate adding some fresh vegetables. Find the oatmeal and get back to your normal breakfast.
3. Break down and buy a pair of reading glasses to at least get you through the work day, knowing you likely will have to buy another pair of a different strength before too much longer.
4. Drag yourself to the first group exercise class in a month, an Insanity class. Be humbled at how severely it kicks your butt. Try to hang on to knowledge that it won't kick your butt so badly the next time.
5. The night before the half-marathon, usher a symphony concert, assuring you will get home later and will be going to Jimmy John's for dinner at some point during the concert.
6. Don't bother looking for gels for the upcoming race. No idea where they are anyway, and looking for them will eat into what's left of your sleep time. Be happy you can find a complete running ensemble that will be comfortable for 13 miles.

Race Day:

1. Skip the race fanny pack. Can't find the nutrition anyway, so why bother? Check the ID and money at gear check and don't worry about it. Make a plan to consume Gatorade for your calories, and hope for the best.
2. Remember to turn on the Garmin since it can take forever to find the satellites. Ponder the significance of the fact that somehow the Garmin made it through the move without disappearing into a random box, yet the nutrition has gone AWOL.
3. Enjoy the pre-race chatter, look forward to the impending beautiful day, and make your way to the starting corral. Optimistically place yourself in the corral that's a few minutes faster than your average starting time, just to avoid getting trapped behind any large groups of walkers.
4. Start the race, turn on the Garmin, and forget about it. At 3 miles, see the race clock and double-check the Garmin to make sure. Note that you are on track for a PR, but decide to see how it's going at the 10K mark before committing to seriously pursuing it. Continue walking only at aid stations, and resist the urge for walk breaks anywhere else.
   
5. Try not to get annoyed at being passed by the juggling guy. Yes, he was juggling three balls for the entire race. And he passed me before mile 6.
6. Hit the 10K mark, and see another PR. Hmmm. Dismiss the idea of calling it good and relaxing for the remainder of the race, and hope they have some nutrition at the next aid station.
7. Finally find food after mile 8. Take two Cliff blocks, grateful for the calories. Take a little extra time to choke them down with some water, and make a mental note that those things sure do take a lot of chewing.
8. At mile 10, note another PR, and decide to push for the remaining three miles. Keep resisting the urge to take walk breaks. Enjoy the fact that you are passing a lot of people who haven't leap-frogged you, and that you don't sound quite as bad as some of them.
9. Pass mile marker 12. Do some mental math, rule out any possibility of a much-wanted walk break, and keep pushing on.
10. Cross the finish line at 2:07:53 with a 9:45/mile pace, very close to two minutes faster than your last PR (which was two years ago, two days after a Spirits Expo and approximately 63 samples of high-quality spirits).
    
11. Laugh about the whole thing while enjoying a large caramel latte from the best coffee shop in town (Mo Joe's). Take a walk in the local park and admire the beautiful fall foliage. Enjoy the rest of the weekend.

Goofy Challenge 2013

Still need to write up a race report...meanwhile, here's a couple of videos about the experience. By far the worst part was the 3am bus ride to the start, two days in a row!

Day 1, the half marathon

Day 2, the full marathon

USAF Half Marathon, Sept 2012

A quick little video from the USAF Half Marathon in Dayton.

Wisconsin Half Marathon 2012

You've gotta love an event that designs its finisher award to contain a bottle opener. After all, it IS about the bling.

So Friday we drove up to Wisconsin for a race. It was a half and a full marathon. Many months ago, Paula and I had a conversation something like this:

"Hey I wanna do this race to check WI off the list. You interested?"
"Sure, do they have a shorter option?"
"Ummm let me check...oops, no, just the half and full."
"Oh what the hell, sign me up for the half."

That was MONTHS ago, so it had been purged from the memory banks. Since then we've done several races where I did the half and Paula did a 5k or 10K, so we both figured that was the plan. Wednesday I go to check the registration, and find we are both doing the half. She took it well.

While it was gawdawful hot and humid here in Indy for the Mini, up in Kenosha it was in the 50's, damp, and blowing. Temps were great for running, but the wind got tiresome, and I'm sure it was a bit chilly for walking, and the volunteers must have been miserable standing around in it. Most of the course was along the shores of Lake Michigan, so the wind never abated. We were both happy it wasn't raining, just spitting water occasionally.

The course itself was an elongated loop up and down the lakeshore area. Part of it went through a very nice old neighborhood with beautiful old homes and large, well-kept yards. After that we went through the old "downtown" area, through a park, along the waterfront, and back.

I saw Paula once after the first turnaround; she was at mile 6-ish and I was around mile 9. I asked how she was doing and she just said (very adamantly), "This sucks!" She was only slightly mollified when I told her the wind was better on the way back. She never slowed down and continued trudging onward.

Paula did far better than she had any right to, a very respectable 3:25:05. I did my typical 2:17:37 and was happy with that. Anything under 3:30 and 2:20, respectively, is a good time. We were both pleased with our day, despite Paula's frequent exclamations of suckage.

We thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the weekend, visiting several dear friends from my Chicago days forever ago. The friends we stayed with were wonderful enough to have Thai food delivered. Yummy! The next day we had a wonderful brunch at another friend's house (complete with mimosas), watched the storm come through, then drove home. It was a very full, very satisfying weekend. Not only a good race, but even better company and more shared memories to add to the (somewhat faulty) memory bank.