2016: Green Bay Half Marathon

Signing up and participating in this event has turned into a tradition of sorts. Owing to the organizers’ unique three-year medal strategy that started in 2015 and my innate inability to let certain things go — one of them being the want of materialistic memorabilia for there is no display case for memories, this tradition will continue at least through its 2017 edition.

Tradition, apart from the aforementioned entities, comprises to a much greater extent the mystique of Green Bay — a city that had once made someone say Can you imagine living in this godforsaken place?, and then went on to provide the opportunity and with it the grand stage for the same someone leave an everlasting impact not just on the city and/or its neighboring communities but on the very sport itself. It also includes an opportunity to roam around the said hallowed streets, neighborhoods and the sidelines, meet and hangout with friends, measure my new self against the one from last year, and my good fortune of owning an ever so tiny portion of the only community-owned NFL franchise that calls this town home.

Tradition aside, I did lose quite a bit of time in February and March, and the progress towards this particular event was slow: some most of it was due to my inability to let certain things go, shortage of sleep and excess of stress … all resulting in a very slow and sluggish transition from skiing into running, and in the absence of noticeable desirable speed when running did indeed pick up the distance — thanks to the weekly runs with Keweenaw Running Group (KRG), solo runs in the nation’s capital and in Arlington with Curt, and weekend runs with Andi, Christopher, Christine, Rob and Shannon.

Of all the things that helped fasten the process of letting things go, ease the associated pain, and in turn, help me find the missing gears were the many chats/discussions with dear friends, placebo effect resulting from retail therapy (Garmin fenix 3 HR — thanks to Kurt and James), and a beautifully articulated story in The Michigan Daily (you can and should read it, even if you are from that other state … you know, south of our border). En route to America’s Steel City about a month ago for some work-related activity, iTunes serendipitously played the America’s Game: 1978 Steelers. An anecdote from it, included below for the sake of completeness and its beauty, and remembered/recalled a few times during training runs through the city’s trail system and many more times since then, did its part in teaching me the value of (or lack thereof) carrying things beyond the point of relevance and focusing more on the tasks at hand.

 

 

Tapering period, started after the completion of #69 in the above list, was aided in good part by the retirement festivities honoring the careers of two of my teachers at Michigan Tech (Dr. Beck and Dr. Seel), and preparing for the visit by DCAA folks.

Apart from a certain irresponsible driver abruptly stopping his car short twice and almost causing wreckage about a mile before the Michigan-Wisconsin border on US-141 (and resulting detours to DMV, make a phone call and chat with Marinette county sheriff), the drive down to Green Bay was uneventful. The American Buffalo, recommended by Stephen so that I could learn more about this magnificent animal — recently named the national mammal, kept good company during this drive. A quick walk through the Prevea Health & Fitness Expo in the Lambeau Field to pick up my (and Shannon‘s) race packet left me just enough time to show up to (the traditional) dinner with Katie (and Kelly) in HuHot Mongolian Grill.

An attempt to check into the reserved room in Days Inn & Suites involved a then a bit scary but now funny situation: at first, the lady in-charge couldn’t find my reservation using my name; once she did find the reservation using the confirmation number, she tells me someone had already checked into the room and wondered if I was traveling with someone else; she finally hands me the card with a then funny-sounding note: hope no one is in your room!

I lug my stuff up and enter the room only to find luggage and running gear spread around. Fortunately no one was around in the room, and I come down to the lobby to report my findings. While the guest services lady, kind and capable of taking a joke at the same time, started going through the check-ins to identify where it had all gone wrong. As if on cue, one lady from the room also shows up with a complaint that her key no longer opens the room. I eventually got the room that no one had checked into, we all got a good laugh, I requested the lady to bring her husband down so that we could all take a group photo in fond remembrance of the proceedings, and she did! A short trip to Olive Garden to meet Elizabeth, Holly and (baby) Landry was followed by calling it a night.

The first part of Saturday was spent in walking the 5k course with Elizabeth, Holly, (baby) Landry and Jeff. There was a wide spectrum of people in terms of age, background, capacity and limitation, and with it, a wide array of free lessons. Post-walk activities included a trip to The Pancake Place and Elizabeth showed the value of dipping a tator tot in honey. I may never eat another tater tot any other way ever again! Rest of the afternoon involved meeting Chris at the expo, picking up Rob‘s race packet, devouring a bowl of gypsy vegetable soup in Kavarna Cafe, a stop at the house the coach once lived, a short nap, a tour of the Packers Hall of Fame, dinner with Rob and Shannon at Mangiamo Pizza & Pasta sandwiched between very short shopping pit stops before yielding to the call of a good night’s sleep.

Race day morning came at a decent pace, and for the second time in as many years, brought along warm (60+F and sunny) and humid (~70%) conditions. Maybe it was lack of practice (six months since the last road race) or maybe just not paying enough attention to detail, I only did a part of the pre-race fueling routine. Getting to the starting area with Rob and Shannon, finding a parking spot and meeting Chris around gear check around 7:30 am was uneventful. Opting to use the atrium restrooms instead of the portable ones saved us some time and helped us get to our respective corrals with plenty to spare. The event started on time as usual but after a less than glorious rendition of The Star Spangled Banner for the second year in a row — probably the most horrendous one so far in my 14 years of being a part of it on this side of the pond.

Goal vs Reality Goal: 13.11 mi in 1:43:02 (7:51 min/mi) Reality: 13.20 mi in 1:52:53.0 (8:33 min/mi)
#	Lap Distance mi	Lap Pace min/mile	Lap Elevation feet	Total Distance mi	Total Time h:mm:ss	Total Elevation feet	Total Pace min/mile	Projected Finish Time h:mm:ss	Differential Goal Time h:mm:ss
01	1.00	8:09	0↑ 20↓	1.00	0:08:09	0↑ 20↓	8:09	1:46:51	0:03:49
02	1.00	8:01	3↑ 13↓	2.00	0:16:10	3↑ 33↓	8:05	1:45:58	0:02:56
03	1.00	7:58	10↑ 3↓	3.00	0:24:08	13↑ 36↓	8:02	1:45:19	0:02:17
04	1.00	7:57	7↑ 0↓	4.00	0:32:05	20↑ 36↓	8:01	1:45:06	0:02:04
05	1.00	8:07	30↑ 13↓	5.00	0:40:13	50↑ 49↓	8:02	1:45:19	0:02:17
06	1.00	8:18	20↑ 13↓	6.00	0:48:31	70↑ 62↓	8:05	1:45:58	0:02:56
07	1.00	8:40	43↑ 0↓	7.00	0:57:11	113↑ 62↓	8:10	1:47:04	0:04:02
08	1.00	9:25	75↑ 36↓	8.00	1:06:37	188↑ 98↓	8:19	1:49:01	0:05:59
09	1.00	8:09	0↑ 46↓	9.00	1:14:46	188↑ 144↓	8:18	1:48:48	0:05:46
10	1.00	9:13	0↑ 36↓	10.00	1:23:59	188↑ 180↓	8:23	1:49:54	0:06:52
11	1.00	9:37	56↑ 33↓	11.00	1:33:37	244↑ 213↓	8:30	1:51:26	0:08:24
12	1.00	9:07	3↑ 13↓	12.00	1:42:44	247↑ 226↓	8:33	1:52:05	0:09:03
13	1.00	8:37	3↑ 33↓	13.00	1:51:22	250↑ 259↓	8:34	1:52:18	0:09:16
14	0.20	8:06	23↑ 0↓	13.20	1:52:59	273↑ 259↓	8:33	1:52:05	0:09:03
The final cumulative time, 1:52:59, may not match the official time (1:52:53.0) owing to rounding errors. Starting my watch a few seconds before the start and stopping it a few seconds after crossing the finish line can be an additional reason for this discrepancy. The overall distance, 13.20 mi, may not match the designated (or certified) event distance (13.11 mi) owing to idiosyncrasies associated with GPS data collection OR my inability to take the tangents OR the aforementioned early start/late stop reasons, and in some rare cases, incorrectly measured (or advertised) courses or DNFs. As a result, the cumulative pace and the projected finish time might not match the official values as well.

Race started out just fine on a personal note, and I stuck to my plan of starting out with ~8:00 min/mile pace for the first few miles. Doing so took less than one half a mile to lose sight of Chris and Rob, and a little over three quarters of a mile of weeding through the fellow A-corrallers to find an arm’s length of space around me. First six+ miles went according to the plan with pace hovering in the neighborhood of 8:00 min/mile. While I used every aid station along the course, I didn’t consume the first Honey Stinger Gel until after mile six. Support from the community through which the course snakes around, just like previous years, was exemplary. This, along with the lovely spring-time bloom and their equally lovely fragrance, made me not pay as much attention to the said heat and humidity. I had also been ignoring the tingling sensation in my left foot for a mile or two by now in the hopes that it’d just go away.

Warmer weather conditions, improper fueling before and during the run, lacing up the shoe a bit too tight, …. just any one of them or some weighted function of all of them, aided by my lack of attention to detail and ignoring to fix the fixable issues as they made their first appearance, led to a mild dizziness around mile seven. I chose to slow the pace down and even walked to some extent. The recently consumed energy gel probably had enough time to do its work, and by mile nine, I felt mostly fine and it showed in an increased pace — to about 8:10 min/mile. The dizziness made its appearance again, on and off, for the next two+ miles and I didn’t come anywhere close to the desired pace for reminder of the course.

Seeing the familiar faces of Elizabeth and Holly (I don’t recall if Landry was there too or not) around mile 10 was a pleasant and welcome surprise. As I made the turn onto Orrie Lane around mile 11.75, I had to stop and hug Sharon — the lady who had fed me on the course a couple years ago. Ever the kind and thoughtful one, she not only didn’t mind the sweaty and stinky me but also made sure I didn’t need any food or water to complete the race. Running through the tunnel onto, on and out of the Lambeau Field was just as goosebumpy experience as my first time in 2014.

Staying quite ahead of the 1:50 pace group as I crossed the finish line, I was expecting a sub-1:50 finish of my own, and even doubted the data collected and time shown by my Garmin. It took some schooling from Shannon to realize that the 1:50 pace group started well after I had, and that the data collected and time shown by my Garmin — 1:52:53 — was indeed correct.

Post-race activities included a warm refreshing shower back at the hotel, a meal (cheese curds, a white bean and lentil burger and a Berliner Weisse) at Titletown Brewing Company with Rob, Shannon, Chris and his sister’s family, a nap and an attempted autopsy of my performance (or lack thereof) for some hours before heading to sleep around 10:30 pm. The drive back to the Yoop on Monday was uneventful to the extent that it didn’t involve any life threatening incidents but a pit stop along a lake to enjoy lunch and Spring-time blooms, and was accompanied by completing The American Buffalo and beginning The Idea Factory (thanks to Brandon for the recommendation).

Hindsight being 20-20 and having had a little more than 24 hours to think through things, there are a lot of things I could have done better to have a better experience and memory of this event: not making enough time for strength training or swimming or biking (over the past 3-4 weeks), speed workouts, tempo runs, longer than 13 mile runs, etc. account for a majority of the explanation in terms of preparation. Every single workout I chose to not do for whatever reason during this period could have potentially negated a part of this disappointing experience. My lack of attention to detail (e.g., incomplete pre- and during the race fueling techniques, not checking the weather conditions ahead of time), ignoring to make the necessary changes on the fly (e.g., using the sprinklers provided by the community to cool off to some extent and/or taking time to loosen the laces), and succumbing to this won’t affect me, etc. leave much to be desired in terms of game-day operations.

To borrow a quote from the same someone that once had the opportunity to coach a football team in this town, fatigue makes cowards of us all, my improper conditioning and preparations made me a coward to the extent that I couldn’t push through while my friends (and many many more) found a way to do so and accomplish their goals. One of the speakers at the previously mentioned retirement festivities, Dr. Samuel Trickey, wrote in his abstract — progress almost is never free.

If the numbers don’t lie and they don’t in this case, I am at about the same point in my performance curve now as I was at this time in 2015. The lack of progress (or worse, the downward trend) is probably an indication of lack of the price I have paid so far, or at least of the lack of mindfulness and quality in my training routine. I think I have come a little too far in this journey and have had way too much support from friends (if the incomplete and inexhaustive list below is any indication) to be just happy with finishing a race and be ok with not making progress. Hopefully, the curve will head in the appropriate direction two weeks from now, and will help bring the PR, probably sunburned beyond recognition by now in America’s finest city, home to the Yoop.

Thanks be to

the rejections and opportunities life has brought my way, event folks (organizers, sponsors, volunteers, timers, law enforcement officials, photographers, fellow participants and spectators) and my family of good friends, mentors and coaches in and outside of my community for all the unexpected, undeserved and unrewarded acts of kindness and constant encouragement as well as offerings of constructive criticism to improve myself as a human and an athlete. I am eternally grateful to all those who let me train with them, who shared their meals and experiences with me, who helped keep me in good health, who helped me stay the course, and who cheered me on from home or along the course.