INFOSEC / Trail-Running / Military / Whatever Else I Choose: 04/01/2005

Nashville Marathon

My first "official" marathon. 26.2 miles, 3 Elvis impersonators and no mud!

First things first. What gives Earl?!?!? I used my GPS on the drive to Nashville just for grins, the same GPS I loaned you last week. When I went to reset everything (odometer, avg. speed, max speed) I had to take notice of the 133MPH max speed that was recorded. Man alive amigo...were you in a hurry or what!

Well, it's over. I signed up for the half-marathon and I ran it...and then some. As I promised Scot, we ran at his pace and we really enjoyed ourselves. I felt GREAT. My legs were warmed up and felt fresh with no stiffness after mile three. There were just shy of 18,000 people running this year (as of last night at least). Somewhere around mile 8, my legs were aching to stretch out. As Scot and I chatted, I asked him if he'd mind if I went on at the eleven mile marker (the 11 mile mark is where the half-marathon breaks-route from the full). He said he didn't mind and that was that. I made a quick stop at a "Jonny on the Spot" in order to dissect my bib number (my number said "Nashville 1/2 Marathon" in giant print...that just wouldn't do). A few swipes of my pocket knife (the same trusty piece that cut the vine only a week earlier) and I was no longer a 1/2 Marathoner, but a full. As we ran to the 11 mile marker, Scot and I shook hands and parted ways. I felt like a million bucks and reveled in each "hill" that we came to while admittedly taking some pleasure in others suffering (though not outwardly). After running trails with hills that require the use of hands to ascend, the hills that Nashville presented were an opportunity to stretch my legs a bit and take some satisfaction in gaining some ground. I was hoping to catch the 4 hour group, though I didn't think this a reality since they passed Scot and I at mile-marker 6. I was happy to just be running. As time passed, I felt no more tired and experienced no cramps etc. I made several phone calls (Tim, Kim, Carla) and received a few. I tried to snap some photos though most of them blurred (I'll include a few that are "so-so"). I met Carla and the kids as well as Scot, Heidi and Peter at the 22.6 mile mark where I had to shed my thick socks (too much splashing in the puddles which I also took great joy in to the wonderment of those around). After we parted I ran about half a mile when my left hamstring seized completely. I believe it was caused by coming to a complete stop long enough to take my socks off. A quick bit of stretching, and I was on my way again. By mile 24, I was still feeling quite good. I decided to try and run 7 minute miles for the final two. I gradually started picking up speed but forget to mark my split at 24 (good move dummy). At 25 I marked it and took off. I must attribute what happened next to mass quantities of endorphins in my bloodstream and a bit of God's grace as I am not a fast runner. As I began to speed up, I felt stronger...and stronger. The faster I went, the more people rooted me on. Even the other runners were cheering me onward and encouraging me to "stretch it out" and "finish strong". As the mix of "runners high" and kindness of those around me combined, I passed the 26 mile mark. Two-tenths of a mile remained and I was completely oblivious to my surroundings and in what felt like an effortless dead sprint. I may have looked insane as I ran, but I felt like I was covering several yards with each step as I launched as high and far as I could from each step (I had this picture in my mind of a gazelle bounding, though I probably looked for like a fool than an animal). Through my tunnel vision, all I saw was the finish-line and before I knew it I was across. That was it...it was over just like that. As I passed the folks handing out the medals, the gentleman that handed me mine sort of looked at my bib number, smiled and said "here, you need one of these". I appreciate his kindness as he didn't have to give me one since I was registered for the half-marathon. I honestly felt great when I was done as I walked around for a few minutes until I found everyone and we headed for the car. I would like to stress that the support from the volunteer staff as well as the thousands of residents who came out to watch and cheer everyone on was invaluable. I was a bit disappointed that over the course of 26.2 miles I found no mud to stomp around in (just kidding), but I had a great time none the less. I must say that I still like the trails better.They're much harder, but I feel more at home there...and they have real hills.

0445 hours (4:45am) the morning of the run. Just me, my coffee and, well, lots of blue dry-weave.

One of the locals out to "cheer" us on. She was very sweet.

Another local with a big smile and some kind words.

For lack of a phone booth, I had to duck into a porta-potty to undergo my transformation from half-marathoner to full-marathoner...luckily the requisite outfit is the same for both...lots of blue dry-weave.

It must be the shoes.

It is my understanding and my belief based on experience that every runner has a favorite shoe. If that is true for "flatlanders" (those that runs on smooth paved surfaces), then it is gospel for trail-runners who tolerate terrain that will shred a normal shoe. After ruining more than one pair of regular running shoes by subjecting them to trails (are you reading this Lt. Col.), I invested in a pair of Vasque Velocity Trail Runners (click on the image for more information).

They have received very good ratings from several sources, and I found them on sale for $54 (normally around $90). After my first run in them I was extremely impressed. After my third run, I was enamored. These shoes are amazing to say the least. If you're looking for a trail shoe and don't need Goretex, I can't recommend the Velocity highly enough. I just ordered two additional pair for myself and a pair of women's for Carla. We'll get her opinion after she's put them through their paces. I hope that someone finds this helpful.

This is what it's all about.

This past Saturday, Carla and I planned to head out to the Chubb Trail (a 14 mile trail a short drive from the house) for her first "real" trail run/walk. The day started very dreary and cold, but by 3pm when we arrived at the trail, the clouds were starting to abate. The trail winds around through the hills and limestone cliffs along Hwy 44 for some time until it dives down into the Meremac River valley. Given the amount of rain lately, we were figuring on the valley (and a portion of the trail) being impassable, but we decided to run until we had to turn back. Carla set the pace and we set off on intervals of speed-walking and jogging as her legs allowed (keep in mind, for those of you who haven't been on this trail, the hills are brutal. For most of the readers, walking the entire trail would be impossible). As we tooled along, we came to our first mile-marker sign. Carla was none too pleased that we had only covered 1 mile as it "felt like 3". Yes....indeed. As time passed, we enjoyed the scenery and took pleasure in the fact that the sun had come out from behind the clouds entirely. As we descended into the river valley we traversed a long low field, crossed our first rail-road crossing and headed into the woods where the trail runs along the river. At this point the trail splits into a "high-water" and "low-water" route. It was obvious (from the splashing rapids) that the low-water route was not an option so we cut right onto the high-water. About a hundred yards down the high-water trail, I stomped directly on a very large (and subsequently very unhappy) snake of some sort. He wasted no time in departing, and I wasted no time in commenting that there were probably hundreds in the fields due to the flooding. Carla was delighted. As we ran on, I spotted two enormous Great Blue Heron about 75 yards inland from the high-water trail. Not a good sign, since Heron feed in swampy areas. Indeed, the high-water trail was under several feet of water. The trail at this point is sandwiched between the river and the rail-road tracks that we had crossed earlier. We (well, I say we, but it was probably more me) decided that rather than turn back we would find a way to go around the flooded part of the trail. The rail-road tracks represent the highest ground in the area, and we (again with this we stuff) decided to forge our way to them to get around the flooding. As we tread through knee high grass with an inch or so of water, even I grew concerned about snakes (as the area is well known for it's "Cottonmouth" population) so I grabbed a stick and "troubled the waters" in front of where we stepped. Finally we reached the trickling stream that is between the trail and the rail tracks (just at the base of the embankment on which the tracks run). Though the water in the stream wasn't flowing, it was no longer a stream. We went up and down it looking for a place to cross with no luck. At it's narrowest point it was about 10ft. across. We couldn't determine the depth aside from Carla grabbing a long stick and shoving it toward the bottom without touching to determine that it was "really deep". Then, genius struck. I spied a large (3" in diameter or so) vine hanging from a very healthy tree placed perfectly so as to be "tarzaned". I took out my pocket knife and started cutting. After a few minutes (to my surprise) I had gnawed through it successfully. Carla wished me luck and I swung across to a perfect landing on the opposite bank. I threw the vine back across to Carla and she followed with an equally painless arrival. We marked the spot with a trail marker and in my GPS (which is a good thing since we missed it completely on the way back) and headed down the service road along the tracks until we reached the main trail again where it re-crosses the tracks. We traveled with great speed to the end of the trail (and the 7 mile marker). We took a short break and then headed back the way we came. A few miles (and another snake) later, we came back to our "river crossing" (with the help of the GPS) and found our vine where we had left it wrapped around another vine. This time Carla wanted to cross first so that she could snap a picture with my digital camera of me swinging across. I handed her the vine and the camera and away she want. As she reached the other side, she landed exactly where she had intended...on a bunch of floating sticks. Needless to say, they didn't support her...it was more of a breaking/sinking action and her feet got wet...followed by her legs, torso, upper body and finally hair. Keep in mind that the river water in Missouri in April is somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 degrees (actually it was 47 degrees that day according to the US Army Corps of Engineers), and the air temp (minus the steady 20mph wind that had been blowing all day) was around 58. As I fished her out of the creek (and admittedly chuckled a bit) she was not pleased. I would later comment that it was unfortunate that we didn't have a bicycle with us as that's all that she lacked for a triathlon. We got her back on her feet and got a sweatshirt on her and decided to find a quicker and drier route back to the car. It was still about 4.5 miles, but we got her back in one piece. The real downer is that we STILL don't know how deep that creek was as she never did touch bottom. I guess next time we'll have to take a longer stick.

ER

PS. Carla's a good sport, and she's looking forward to the next time we go on the trail. She has also apologized for laughing at me when I fell and got the tar beat out of me on the same trail a couple of months ago, just in case this was a karmic thing.

Her first attempt at the water crossing was not only successful, it was fun (as demonstrated by the smile on her face).

Me. Looking especially sporty I might add. Kind of disappointing how the "steps" in the background look like their very small and at about head height.

Again, scale is tough to judge. The "steps" that you see mid-way up this hill are about 50 feet up from where I'm standing.

Somewhere under all that water (the flooded Meramec River) is the high-water trail. I'd estimate it's about 15 - 20 feet under water.

We had to take a detour around the main trail as even the "high-water" trail was under about 20ft. of water.

I thought this little waterfall was pretty enough to snap a picture of. It's tought to judge scale in pictures like this, though this is quite small.

INFOSEC / Trail-Running / Military / Whatever Else I Choose

30 April 2005

Nashville Marathon

29 April 2005

It must be the shoes.

28 April 2005

This is what it's all about.

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