2014 Umstead Marathon report

The first weekend in March is bittersweet.  The days are getting longer, the air is warming but not yet too hot...and it means I'll have to start cutting my grass again soon.  More happily, it also means the Umstead Marathon is upon us yet again.  This race is nothing short of the best marathon in the world - comprising the best park in Central North Carolina; a challenging but reasonable course; dedicated, detail-oriented organizers; enthusiastic, friendly volunteers and talented runners who don't act like they're talented.

This was to be my fifth marathon, and my fourth Umstead. I really have no business running in this event, but I felt some serious regret in 2012 when I skipped it.  So, no matter the poor shape of my legs and cardiovascular system (and conversely well-trained liver), I sat by my keyboard as registration opened in early November and was one of the first to sign up.

I have no race photos.  This would be a even more boring post with no pictures.  Here's a bouncy house.

Training was decent November through January, logging about 110 miles a month.  Work travel and fermented barley led to a 55 mile February, but come race day I felt OK despite not doing a long run over 16 miles.

We were granted nearly perfect weather on race day.  Right around freezing at the start, rising to the low 50s by early afternoon with some good cloud cover.  The usual pre-race festivities took place - people congregating by the fire in the lodge, the race director reading the names of several people who have participated in all 11 Umstead Marathons, and runners making several trips to the port-o-johns.

From here I'll divide my report into five equal pieces.

Miles 0-6, 1:03:14

About five miles of this is single track.  Last year I went out too "fast" (9:30 min/mile) and I paid for it later.  That was my first race on this new harder course, which had significantly more single track and I tried too hard to stick to a 10 minute pace.  This time, I laid back and didn't push it.  I even took a restroom break at about 5.5 miles - three pre-race portajohn visits apparently weren't enough.  I felt good, except for some groin issues that were new.

William B. Umstead does not approve of so many portajohn references

Miles 6-12, 2:02:47

After exiting single track for good at mile 8, most of the course is gentle downhill until mile 12.  I was still taking it pretty easy.  I got a bloody nose.  Only the second of my life unless you count the ones from people punching me.

Miles 12-18, 3:06:57

This section gives us the worst of Turkey Creek Trail.  The uphills hurt and slow you down.  The downhills tempt you to make up time, punishing your quads.  The only relief is the wonderful Paradise aid station.  I start "speedwalking" the steeper uphill sections around mile 16 or so as the pre-twinge of calf cramps set in.  I'm sure this is pure coincidence that this is also the longest training run I did.

Miles 18-24, 4:22:12

...and the wheels start to fall off.  This is easily the most difficult part of the course, and not just because it's near the end.  There are the well-documented horrors of the Corkscrew and Cedar Ridge, 2 miles of nasty steep uphill.  But even worse is The Sneaky Bastard.  This section starts right at mile 18 and is over a mile and a half of nearly constant, gentle incline.  It's uphill enough that it slows you down, but gentle enough that you don't really notice it and can't figure out why your pace is dropping.  Or at least, this is how I imagine it would be if I was ever in good enough shape to feel normal at this point.  The Sneaky Bastard also saps enough energy to make the two hills mentioned above even more miserable.  I ran-walked this section (or really, walked-ran-walked-r..walked) then was saved by the Reedy Creek aid station, where the wonderful volunteers plied me with Fritos and their own private stash of Endurolytes to help quench the thirst that wouldn't go away.  I was also fortunate to run into fellow runner Klay Barrow at the aid station, and we chatted for the mile or so run down to the base of the Corkscrew, allowing me to forget my many aches and pains - except when we were talking about our aches and pains.

The less said about the Corkscrew and Cedar Ridge the better.  It took me 14 minutes to go between markers 23 and 24, and I was shattered at this point.

Never mind what I'm doing with that hand in my pocket...(thanks freeracepics.com)

Miles 24-end, 4:49:45

I hobbled to the finish.  Not much to say here.  My inadequate training reared its ugly head here, as my legs were stiff and cramping.  Not a strong way to finish, but I got my pint glass and burrito, so all was good.  21 minutes better than last year, but off my personal best by 6 minutes (that was on an easier course).  I'm sure I had race winner Tim Crews sweating near the end, as he edged me out by a mere 108 minutes.

Recovery

The usual stiffness and soreness took over on Saturday and Sunday, but it nothing too bad.  Until 2am Sunday night, when I was awoken by a very intense pain (worst I've ever had) on my inner left knee.  One of the reasons I chose my wife was her training in sports medicine; she ran downstairs and got me some ice.  I fell asleep icing the knee, while she was unable to go back to sleep.  I'm such an ass.

I was able to go to the climbing gym Tuesday night with no issues, so I'm sure I'll forget the pain from this race and sign up next year.  After all, I only missed a coveted top-15 plaque by 68 minutes or so.  With another lackluster training period next year I'm sure to get one.

Umstead 2013 - Report from the back of the pack

Work bosses:  "Shannon, we need you to go to Japan and Singapore for a couple of weeks."
Me: "Sure, no problem.  Can I plan it so I get back a couple days before the Umstead Marathon so I have an excuse for putting in a bed-shitting performance?"

This was my third Umstead, and I felt the best trained for this of any.  My previous PR was a very pedestrian 4:47, but I was hoping for a 4:20-ish finish this time.  I had been doing all of my long runs at Umstead without specific mileage in mind, just going as far as I could at a 10 minute pace.  During training I was up to 16-20 miles at this pace, and figured I'd just try to hang on during race dayblah blah blah blah....fffffffffftttttttttttttt.

The Wednesday before the race I found myself landing at RDU Wednesday night after a couple of weeks across the Pacific.  The timing was bad, but I decided to suck it up, sleep about 4 hours out of 48 on the double-Wednesday and try to cope that way.  On Thursday I was fine, to bed early and up early.  Only issues were sudden bouts of fatigue and some GI issues.  Hello foreshadowing.

Weather was perfect on Saturday.  Right around freezing before the start, with highs forecasted in the low 50s.  No precip.  The cabin was abuzz with activity pre-race.  It's cold outside, so almost everyone warms themselves by the fire.  This race also seems to have a cult following - the same faces are there year after year and so a lot of catching up takes place.  I don't blame them - this is hands down my favorite running event ever.

This is what pre-race looks like if you are a creepy-looking guy photographing strangers while standing on a table.

So anyway, the race starts, I feel OK, get to the single track and at mile marker 2 I have an overwhelming desire to lay down next to the trail and sleep.  Not a good sign, but this subsides after 20 minutes or so.  I run into bigger problems around mile 6.  Vomit.  Working its way up my esophagus.  I'm at a 9:30 pace at this point, so I'm not overexerting.  I walk up a steep section of single track.  Urge to vomit subsides.  Start to run again.  Vomit in esophagus redux.  Goddammit.

I lose the 10 minute/mile pace at 8 miles, and I'm down to 11 minutes/mile at mile 15.  I'm bitterly disappointed, and have to try hard to talk myself out of quitting at 15.  But it's hard to be pissed off at a race when the other runners are so friendly and the volunteers are so wonderful and enthusiastic.  It pisses me off even more that I can't be pissed off.

The rest of the race is running until nearing vomit status then walking.  I finished in 5:10:51 - my worst of the three Umstead for me.  But, I got a cool pint glass with a ring-necked duck and I have plenty of beer to fill it, so life ain't so bad.

Finisher of both the race and the bottle.  If you look carefully at the bottle, you'll see Lone Rider brewed something very similar to the Peacemaker for me to enjoy post-race.  Based on my time they offered to sponsor me next year.

If you're thinking of signing up for this race, don't.  It sucks.  Really badly.  Also, available slots for the race don't fill up quickly.  If you're not thinking of running this race, it really is the best event I've ever participated in, and it gets better every year.  I plan to run it until 2020, at which time I'll fail to make the 6 hour cutoff if my finishing time trend continues.

A hearty thank you to the race director, volunteers and fellow runners for making this such a great event.  And congrats to Brandon Carter (2:54:01holyshit) and Lorraine Young (3:03:59 courserecordholyshit) for their victories.

Umstead Marathon - In!

Now to set goals...

Umstead Long Run - April 7 - and Its Aftermath

After running the 2011 Umstead Marathon (I use the word 'run' liberally, as it took me nearly 5 hours), a hot early spring sapped my desire to run, and I ran a grand total of 16 miles between April and September, and I didn't get even half-way serious about running until January. 

Why am I telling you this?  Well first, I'm blogging, so I'm a bit of a narcissist.  But also, to illustrate that I've had to rebuild mileage slowly.  To date, my long runs have been no more than 8.3 miles, which meant Saturday was a perfect time to go to Umstead for a three hour run.  My goal was simply to keep moving.

I loved the feeling of just running for three hours, taking whatever path I felt like.  A nice change of pace from a mileage-driven goal.  In short, I walked most uphills in the last two hours, but did manage to run 16.1 miles in 3:02.  A 11:20 pace, which isn't much to brag about, but I didn't feel dead afterwards.

I even felt pretty good Sunday, but with a slightly stiff back.

Today?  I wake up with sharp pain in the right knee and a tight right calf.  Go to work, and it gets worse after sitting for most of the day.  Stop off at Umstead on the way home, hoping it will loosen up.  It doesn't.  I came home.  Will try again tomorrow.