- The course was brutally uphill right out the gate. I gassed out fast and hard. I managed to run uphill the entire time, but it was very draining. I felt my energy almost completely sapped out by the time I made it to the top of San Vincente, and I knew at that point I wouldn't be setting any personal bests.
- The water stations were oddly placed. Two within maybe 1/2 a mile from each other, then no others. Combine this with fact that I failed to sufficiently hydrate the night before and morning of the race, and I was definitely hurting. (Look, you can't put me that close to bars with great happy hours and not expect me to have a few beers the night before, okay?!)
- The course was slightly odd, as the Half-Marathon runners took off 15 minutes before the 5k runners, but then merged into the same space at them. This created a lot of traffic where people who were competing for personal bests ended up screaming through the packs of power walkers and stroller runners, yelling "WALKERS LEFT! WALKERS LEFT!" and damned-near tripping up everyone involved.
- There was a lack of clear signage; the 5k turnaround just said "TURNAROUND," meaning the half-marathon runners had to run past it - but because it wasn't marked "5K TURNAROUND" a number of runners were confused. A volunteer had to be posted there directing traffic. Same thing happened at the bottom of the hill about 200 feet from the finish line for 5k and mile 6(?) for the Half folks.
Run Fatboy, Run!
Your generic out of shape Californian, who decided running should be a thing.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
The Sunset Strip Half Marathon/5K boogaloo
Last Sunday I ran my fifth 5k of 2015 - the Sunset Strip Half Marathon / 5k. As you may have expected, I opted for the 5k. All in all, the race was great; the atmosphere was really good, people were excited to be running, and as it was the inaugural event, there was a ton of news coverage. Even the Mayor ran it along side the rest of us. A few critiques, while they're fresh in my mind:
Monday, March 9, 2015
Survivor Mud Run 2015: Phoenix
This weekend, I participated in the Survivor Mud Run in Phoenix. The long and short of Survivor is as follows: Race hosts bring a bunch of water tanker trucks to a dirt bike race track. They soak the entire thing down to a sloppy, sloshy mess. Their goal, apparently, is to create two types of mud: the first, a thick sucking paste, and the second a watery goop.
Let me elaborate; the first is the consistency of thick oatmeal, about three feet deep. When your foot sinks in, it creates a vacuum and mud fills the space around it, making it nearly impossible to pull your foot back out. Sometimes, you pull your foot out sans shoe; a fact made evident by the muddy lumps of discarded tennis shoes strewn about the first obstacle. There seemed to be two methods to fighting this: the first, digging yourself out, yielded only some success. I did give this a shot on a few occasions, and despite mud up to my elbows, it only worked about half the time. The second option requires some preparation but seemed to work better; wait for a line to open up in front of you, and haul ass through the mud, not allowing your feet to sink in far enough to get sucked under. My running buddy tried "high knees" versus speed, but he had slightly less satisfactory results with that method. The second type of mud is thinner, much less enraging. It covers you, is cold and wet, and not super pleasant - but its consistency is like chunky chocolate milk. No trick to this one, really - run through and continue on your way.
The course is, of course, interspersed with twenty obstacles; from cargo net pyramids to cargo crawls and monkey bars, to mountains of slippery mud with no footholds, to pipes you both crawl over and through, it definitely kept us moving and challenging the people on the course. We finished in about an hour and 10 minutes (my normal 5k time is somewhere between 37-40 minutes, so that is telling) battered and bruised, but victorious.
A few takeaways for me:
Let me elaborate; the first is the consistency of thick oatmeal, about three feet deep. When your foot sinks in, it creates a vacuum and mud fills the space around it, making it nearly impossible to pull your foot back out. Sometimes, you pull your foot out sans shoe; a fact made evident by the muddy lumps of discarded tennis shoes strewn about the first obstacle. There seemed to be two methods to fighting this: the first, digging yourself out, yielded only some success. I did give this a shot on a few occasions, and despite mud up to my elbows, it only worked about half the time. The second option requires some preparation but seemed to work better; wait for a line to open up in front of you, and haul ass through the mud, not allowing your feet to sink in far enough to get sucked under. My running buddy tried "high knees" versus speed, but he had slightly less satisfactory results with that method. The second type of mud is thinner, much less enraging. It covers you, is cold and wet, and not super pleasant - but its consistency is like chunky chocolate milk. No trick to this one, really - run through and continue on your way.
The course is, of course, interspersed with twenty obstacles; from cargo net pyramids to cargo crawls and monkey bars, to mountains of slippery mud with no footholds, to pipes you both crawl over and through, it definitely kept us moving and challenging the people on the course. We finished in about an hour and 10 minutes (my normal 5k time is somewhere between 37-40 minutes, so that is telling) battered and bruised, but victorious.
A few takeaways for me:
- Duct-tape your shoes on before starting the race. You will look ridiculous, and you will feel self conscious. You will also have an easier time getting through the thick mud without losing your gear.
- Use the buddy system. There were obstacles that both of us needed help with, and even the mental/moral support of having someone urging you on is huge. Hell, if you have time, help someone else up too (those mud hills are slippery as hell, and a lending a hand to someone helps them a lot).
- Conserve energy until after the first major pit. We did a reasonably paced jog to the first mud pit, about half a mile from the starting line. I wasn't winded in the least, was able to hold conversation while running, and could have gone another hour - until that first pit. I gassed out fast. Struggling your way through mud, fighting for each step, and falling all over yourself and everyone else eats at your stamina reserve really, really fast.
- Higher shorts would be better than longer basketball-style shorts. Some kind of compression pants would probably be better than that. Running with an extra 30lb of mud hanging from your body (drying in the hot desert heat) makes things that much harder. That said, the mud is not rock and debris free. Sliding down a few hills has given me tremendous amounts of 'road rash' up and down both legs.
- Stop and drink the water at the halfway mark. Even in March, Phoenix gets into the 80s. And you're running. And you're climbing. And you're working your ass off. Hydrate.
- With regard to working your ass off, some prep advice: at its rawest form, the run is still a 5k. Train like you would for any short run. However, endurance is going to be a huge factor here with the obstacles. Upper body strength could be a consideration too - you'll be climbing cargo nets, climbing up wooden walls (pulling yourself up and over - no hand-holds here), and going across monkey bars. Some upper body muscle would be very helpful.
- Uphill running was a common thread after every obstacle. Maybe set the treadmill incline at 10 for a few minutes every mile or so.
- There will be lines for most obstacles. Some are a few seconds, some are a few minutes. Deal with it. If you want to avoid the lines, run with the competitive group (the first wave of the day).
- Showers are provided. The pressure is good, the water is plentiful, and it won't do a damned thing to help - the mud will be everywhere. Bring a change of clothes if you want, but better yet, line your car seat with a tarp or trash bags and just shower at home. You'll probably throw away your socks. If you're staying in a motel like I was, tip your maid. You're going to make an awful fucking mess.
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