Cycling in Spokane: Images From Today's Ride - Part Deux

In a previous post, I uploaded photos that I took during a beautiful ride north of Spokane. I just now finished a beautiful ride west of Spokane and thought I would do the same. Low-traffic, smooth chip-seal roads are again heavily featured, as is gorgeous scenery on a day with perfect weather. I went out through the 'Pleasant Prairie' area and rode through foothills and across a few open plains. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, even if they can't attest to the symphony of birds and sensation of a warm breeze that also accompanied the ride.

Though without a shoulder, the roads are made safer by the very low traffic level and high visibility. I'm able to monitor cars as they approach and ensure that I've been noticed. 

My view to the left....

And my view to the right...

Agriculture made for low population density and ensured expansive views with lots of greenery. 

This picture isn't spectacular, but it does represent the feeling of being able to open up and just hammer in the aero position out alone on open roads. I thought back to the endless hours spent studying on the bike trainer over the winter and smiled. 

The start of a long, fast descent

My favorite photo from the ride, some of the scenery was simply stunning. 

"Should I buy a triathlon bike?"

I made the below flow chart to answer that most important of questions, "Should I buy a triathlon bike?" 

If you found this blog entry in search of the answer to this question, simply click on the flow chart below to view a larger version and let it guide you to the truth. 

Start with the beginning phrase, "I want a Triathlon bike" and then follow the black lines to the most relevant of the first three options. Then keep following the black lines. Good luck!

Moses Lake Family Triathlon Race Report- 6/11/11

"The man who can drive himself further once the effort gets painful is the man who will win."

-Roger Bannister

The alarm went off at 4:10 and I jumped up to turn it off. I groggily checked the weather report and smiled at the news: 76 and clear skies. The torrential downpour that had awoken me at 2:45am wouldn't be affecting the race in Moses Lake. I grabbed my pre-made PB&J tortilla, bag of dry cereal, and coffee and headed out from Spokane with my wife now sleeping in the passenger seat. Beautiful pastel colors lit up the sky with sunrise as the rolling hills of the Palouse, turned green by the recent rainfall, were surveyed by Red-Tailed Hawks. I focused on visualizing each component of the race as I drove the 2 hours to the park.

The National Anthem before the race

The quasi Olympic-distance race takes place at the beautiful Blue Heron Park, just off I-90 as it passes through Moses Lake. There was ample, convenient parking and I got a spot right up front. Packet pick-up was effortless as I had my Bib #, photo ID, and USAT card right at hand. After signing a quick waiver, I grabbed my bike and transition bag from the car and walked down to the transition zone.

Lying in the parking lot just above the boat-ramp-turned-Swim-Start, the transition zone was fenced in with orange, plastic safety fencing and had a spacious array of nice metal racks, 8 bikes to a rack. The excellent organization extended further with consecutive bib numbers assigned to specific racks. Being the first person into transition, I was hoping to have my choice of spots (right next to the bike out/in), but my capitalistic ways were denied me and I made my peace with the egalitarian arrangement by racking my bike at the first position on my assigned rack.

Other racers soon showed up to get their transition zone settled. As I told my wife later, races are basically a 'make new friends' convention for me, as I find good-natured people with the similar interests at each event. This was definitely the case and I enjoyed getting to know the racers around me as I got everything ready.

After warming-up on the bike trainer, I left my bike in a solid gear to get started and grabbed my wetsuit to warm up in the water. I brought vaseline to protect my neckline from friction against my wetsuit, but decided to use the small packet of Udderly Smooth Udder Cream that was included in our pre-race packet. The thick white lotion performed it's job admirably and I would have no irritation develop during or after the event.

The water was measured to be an agreeable 65F. Though cold on the arms, I warmed up quickly as I felt the strange sensation of the chill from water seeping into my wetsuit. The shoreline was also pleasantly free of duckweed or other aquatic plants that have hindered other open water events that I've been to.

Goggles are never attractive and these AquaSphere ones are no exception, but they combine goggle-performance with mask visibility, making them an excellent choice for open water swimming. The tint helps with sighting in bright conditions. 

The first wave was sent off, with a group of Women and Men 30-39 heading out to the first turn buoy. There was then a quick, 5-minute wait until my wave was sent off. I knew Josh Hadway, an up-and-coming young pro and all-around great guy, would tear up the race so I seeded myself next to him to try and keep him in sight or possibly draft during the swim.

Above is my elementary attempt to paint the swim course

I slapped my arms and wiggled them about to keep warm as I waited at the front of the field. This attractive sneer was caught just as the race was about to start. 

As I waited for the start to be announced, I heard two guys next to me make some remarks about another swimmer:

"Geez, that guys shoulders are the size of my quads!" 

"Yeah, that'd be a nice draft... bet he'll blitz the swim."

"Hah, but you'll see him again on the run."

I chuckled a bit inside and continued fiddling with my now-fogging goggles, to the lasting frustration of my wife-turned-gorgeous-personal--photographer, who was trying quite unsuccessfully to get a pre-race shot of my face. 

Sorry, sweetie.

There was the countdown and bam-we-were-off. My goal of starting at the front to catch onto Josh had mixed results as people swam furiously alongside me at what was probably 300% faster than their race pace. I caught onto some bubbles and let them lead me to the first turn buoy, thrilled by both the tenacity of a triathlon swim start and the fact that I didn't get kicked in the face. 

I'm not sighting, just simply trying to keep from getting kicked in the face. 

Having caught them successfully, I head out towards clear water. 

This swim leg would be an exercise in skills-retention as I've done a lot of open water swimming previously but I have been removed from it for two seasons, with the past year of school, time spent in Asia, and then previous winter precluding me from practice. I was extremely surprised very glad to find my sighting effortless and my swimming straight as I made my two clockwise laps around the buoys. With very limited swimming done throughout the last school year, I'd amplified my mileage during the past 6 weeks of freedom and had hoped that it would be enough to bring at least my technique back up to form. I focused on maintaining the best form I could for as long as I could, and surprisingly found myself swimming the strongest as I rounded the second turn-buoy for the second time and made straight towards the exit ramp. 

You can see by the proximity of the reeds that I really tried to cut it as tight as possible.

Coming out of the water, I didn't know what time or placing to expect. I mentioned above that this race is quasi Olympic Distance, in that the swim is slightly long at 1mi (as opposed to 0.9mi or 1500m) and the bike is short, at 22mi (instead of the standard 24.8mi). I came out of the water in 19:39 and was, according to my cheering wife, one of the first blue caps out of the water (the first wave men had white caps). I sprinted up the short and somewhat steep boat ramp to reach the transition zone. 

I ran to my bright-pink, polka-dotted transition towel (read: easy to spot. And stylish) with my cap and goggles off and my wetsuit around my waist. The plan was to speedily strip off the remainder ITU-style, but the Fog of War, that dazed, disorentied feeling you have returning to land after the swim, left my world spinning and I resorted to using the transition rack to keep me upright as I stripped the suit off my feet. I elected to put my shoes on in transition, as I hadn't practiced rubber bands enough recently to make it an efficient (and safe) tactic. This was just as well given how dazed I was. I took off out of T1 after 1min, 12 seconds. 

Notice the Mount Bike sign. Apparently a lot of my competition didn't. As reported by my wife, many mounted early and dismounted late. This included the bike leader who scooted all of the way up to transition. If he happens to be reading, I ride with a great Optometrist in Spokane, maybe he can hook you up with some sport-specific glasses. 

I headed out of transition right alongside a guy on a very nice Trek Speed Concept. Speed Concept shot off but I kept him in sight through the opening miles as we made a few turns then headed out on the straight, out-and-back course over rolling hills parallel to I-90. The 'hills' were mostly quite gentle inclines and declines that fluctuated in a gentle sin wave that would continue through most of the course, with a few solid flat sections interspersed. As Speed Concept slowly inched his way closer towards the horizon, I focused on setting a good rhythm and keeping my pace fast but reigned in for the following run. I had a single bottle filled with HEED on my seat-tube and would take big sips once about every ten minutes during the bike. I elected for positioning the bottle here as my aerobars are spread enough that it wouldn't be concealed by my hands and I could still grab the bottle from the seat-tube and drink while maintaining the aero position. 

I caught my first guy fairly early, then my second about a mile later. Each pass was great motivation to press forward, as was my shadow cast in front of me by the now risen sun behind us. I love the bike leg and am thrilled to be riding my new machine- I wanted to put it to good use against my fast-looking and well-equipped competition. The one hill of consequence slowed me down a bit, but I stayed in the aero position mostly for appearances sake as I caught another competitor who was sitting up on the bullhorns for the climb. 

Riding without a bike computer, I had no objective sense of distance or pace as the race progressed. I would catch another 4 riders on the remaining out section. Heading into the turnaround, I counted riders heading back the other direction. The bike leader had a fast position and was riding angry, with lots of open real-estate behind his P3C. 

The road surface of the course would best be described as rough chip-seal. I was riding Bontrager tires, a RaceLite in the front and RaceXLite in the back. As my dedicated race tires, they were both in excellent shape but it didn't keep me from intermittently praying, "Please don't flat, Please don't flat," as I rode the course.  Despite the rough surface, the road was in good shape, with my only objection coming from a section covered in small gravel that the RD had at attempted unsuccessfully to get swept. I rode in the section of the road that was made smooth by the right tires of car traffic and this really mitigated the vibration. The high pressure in my tires probably didn't help. Police guarded all of the intersections, and I thanked them each time I shot through. I also did my best to shout an encouraging 'Good job!' to the athletes who were heading out on the bike as I was coming back in. 

There was a great view of the remainder of the bike course as I crested the one real hill and shot down the back side. It was steep enough that even pedaling in my 53x11 was relatively ineffectual, but that didn't stop a guy on a Cannondale Slice from shooting by me. I kept him at least 7 bike lengths in front of me (I had zero interest in drafting or in giving any race officials any room for interpretation) and then he pulled away a bit as we made out way back into T2. 

I was surprised to find my legs tightening up a little bit in the final 2 miles of the ride so I backed off the pace slightly. I also stretched and shook my legs out a little bit. Making the turn back into Blue Heron Park, I unclipped from my shoes and rode on each as a platform. Coming down the decline into transition, I swung my right leg over the bike and coasted in standing on the left shoe, ready to glide in and make a smooth run through transition and out onto the run course. 

I elected to run in socks as I ended up with both shoes bloody when I didn't in my previous race. I had them rolled up ready to go and quickly slipped them on, slid into my pre-tied race shoes (no need for elastic laces),  then grabbed my race number belt and knee strap as I took off onto the course. My T2 time was 35.6sec. 

I was happy to see lots of empty racks in transition as I focused on trying to catch the athletes ahead of me on the run, not typically my strongsuit. 

Coming out of transition, we would run a 10km out-and-back course that follows the lakeshore along a bike path and through a lakeside neighborhood. The first and last 150yrds or so are on grass within the park, and I quickly caught and passed the Slice cyclist as I made my way out at a pace that was fast for me but hopefully sustainable. Right away I was able to mark another runner about 60 yrds ahead and just focused on pulling him in. "Pump your arms, Pump your arms," I repeated to myself, in the hope that driving my elbows back would increase my leg turnover and make my stride more efficient. My high-school cross-country coach, an Olympic caliber runner in her past, attributed a 10sec/mi bonus in pace to this technique. A couple squads of cheerleaders took up residence on a few of the turns and at aid stations- great job ladies (!), thanks for the support. 

Despite the warm temps, clear skies, and shadeless course, I didn't feel warm as I made my way through the first mile aid station. I doused my hair with water to cool myself down. I don't tolerate drinking on the run well in races so I focus on getting most all of my nutrition in on the bike and so far the bottle of HEED was doing quite well. Even though I felt alright, it was slightly ominous how quickly the water evaporated within a quarter-mile of the aid station. It was a warning to keep from blowing myself up during the run. 

"He looks like a gazelle!" I disparagingly observed about the runner that I was slowly reeling in. Despite the guy's strong stride, I soon had him within 10 yards and then made a concerted push to try and drive by him and 'snap the elastic.' About this time I saw Josh Hadway leading the race in and managed a, "Great job Josh!" to which he replied very enthusiastically in turn. Apparently he wasn't winded by the 34:06 10km he was putting in. 

Coming along the straightaway to the turnaround, I caught a string of 3 runners and put in a surge after the 180 degree turnaround. The runner that I'd tracked down was still with me, and despite the few surges I put in as he ran alongside, he was able to break free. He did serve as a great pacer, though, and helped bring me in towards the final section of bike path. The long straightaways on concrete were warm but also fast, and I did my best to push hard as another runner was maintaining a position close behind me. 

With about a half-mile left, the runner behind me put in a hard effort on a short, steep downhill and broke past me then caught my impromptu pacer. The quote from Roger Bannister at the very top of this page kept running through my mind and I did my best to put myself in pain. I wasn't able to reel them in, unfortunately, but I did learn after the race that I held off some runners behind that were pushing hard to try and pull me in. Making it to the final 150 yard sprint to the finish, I did my best to run hard over the soft grass surface and soon threw myself across the line to finish the 10km run leg in 42:01 / 6:47 min per mile, and cap my race off in 2:04:28.

You can tell from my expression that I am a very special kind of tired here at the end of the race.

The focus on the park background demonstrates that this is a very attractive venue for the race. 

Subtracting 5min from the overall time due to my delayed 2nd wave start left me with a 2:04:28 finish.

Having to put in a final hard effort over the soft grass was rough, and I walked off the exertion. I headed over to a group of three guys, including the two who finished just ahead of me, and we talked about the race. I love the race atmosphere and the ability to spend time with so many like-minded people. We talked about our race and what races we have planned next, with a couple guys slated to race Ironman Couer d'Alene in just two weeks time. Wandering over to the awesome post-race spread, I made an open-faced turkey sandwich and snagged a couple 1/4ths of some Costco Muffins to keep it company (you can't beat the Apple Cinnamon). There was also some excellent fare from race sponsor Sara Lee. 

I would hang around and receive my award for 3rd place in my age group. The design had bike chain wrapped around the edge which I thought was clever. My wife also admired the hand made ceramic finisher's medal complete with twine. I was also happy to see that I qualified for the USAT Age-Group National Championships to take place this next August in Burlington, Virginia. While I'm not sure I'll be competing, it's always nice to say that I qualified. 

About to leave the race, we were able to get a very nice gentleman to snap our picture. I'm wearing the race t-shirt and, at the request of our volunteer photographer, am holding out the two muffin wedges that I took to go. Not the best post-race nutrition (they're practically cake), but they tasted great. 

After some more friendly conversation, cleaning up my transition zone, and a final muffin wedge, my wife and I were back on the road and off to Spokane for some well-deserved rest. A big kudos to everyone who raced, especially those who first tried their hand at triathlon in the short Family Event. This race had a great freshwater swim venue with clean water and perfect temperature, a fast but fair bike course of rolling hills, and a fast run course. While the scenery on the bike and run wasn't particularly inspiring, the event had great management, an excellent venue for the registration/transition area, and a delicious post-race spread.

Keeping Up Appearances

As Triathletes, our motus operandi  should be to take the best of our three parent sports and cultivate the resulting blend into one sexy, endurance triumvirate. Unfortunately, we often miss the bus and are left with some of the dregs of swimming, cycling, and running's collective fashion barrel. In the interest of giving our single-sport brethren less ammunition when it comes to who can make fun of who better, here are a few tips for staying stylish, because after all, it's not about how fast you are, it's how good you look that matters most.

Rule 1: Never, Ever Wear a Speedo. 

One of the very last triathlon Speedos in existence, as rocked by Faris al Sultan (photo courtesy of  the venerable Timothy Carlson)

Suffering from the inclination to rock the mankini come raceday? Don't. The notorious budgie smuggler , as it's known to Aussie triathletes down South, should've died out like the dinosaurs when the comet of Common Sense hit triathlon in the late-90s. The notorious and hilariously-satirical Underwear Run prior to Ironman Hawaii began as a statement against the German European triathletes flagrantly wearing Speedos about town during the week of the race. Speedos are triathlon's version of the mullet, only without being awesome. Don't wear one. 

Rule 2: Sleeveless Jerseys are Senseless

No offense to those of you that wear them, but sleeveless jerseys should not exist. You might as well tie your jersey into a knot and hike it up to bare your midriff. I would even contend that if all triathletes and recreational cyclists would abolish the wearing of sleeveless jerseys, racing road cyclists might finally ease the tension in their bib-shorts and unpucker a little. If you are wearing your racing top in preparation for battle while on your tri bike, that's another matter. But if you get too warm during your training camp in Tucson, try rocking a tight-fitting, race-cut jersey from Castelli with one of their skin-cooling fabrics. 

Rule 3: Pretend Your Helmet Bursts Into Flames Any Time You Step Off The Bike

Cycling is a beautiful and noble sport, but step off from your steed and leave your helmet on and you'll look either like an impotent mushroom or spandex-clad alien depending on the style of your lid. Now, just as in racing, make sure to put your helmet on before you mount and dismount before removing it, but don't let the removing be delayed too long after the dismounting. Upon removing your helmet, strap it stylishly to your bike as demonstrated in this photo, with the straps of the helmet clipped either under or around the stem:

Rule 4: The Only Acceptable Racing Apparel for a Running Race is a Singlet with Running Shorts

I like to joke, when people ask me why I like cycling/triathlon, that I do it because it's the only socially acceptable way that I can wear spandex in public. That being said, it's really not socially acceptable, especially among runners who race. Just like how you should wear a triathlon suit in a triathlon, in running you should wear what the top runners wear, your being accustomed to compression garments be damned. For example, if you're running the Seattle Marathon in the winter in preparation for Ironman Couer d'Alene the following June, don't rock your tri race kit. You'll look like, well, a weird guy/gal in spandex among a bunch of people in normal clothes. Like the feeling of compression on your legs? Wear black spandex shorts underneath your running shorts. But don't give runners any reason to justifiably call us weird- that's like a toddler calling you immature. 

Rule 5: Walk Your Bike By Gently Holding The Saddle

In the above images, Macca and Chrissie both lovingly guide their machines with one hand. Yes, you're reading that right- walk your bike one-handed by the saddle and you have a guaranteed, 100% chance to win Kona at least twice!  

Accustomed to walking your bike by the handlebars, the front-end hampered by your over-bearing grip and twitching about over the grass of the transition zone? Leaving T1 in a daze, leaning over your ride and running along with both arms on the basebars of your bike as though you were pushing some empty, overly-expensive stroller? Yes, me too. At least at one point. Then I woke up and embraced that which is the greatest form of movement- walking casually as you guide your bike with one arm gently, almost callously, resting on the saddle. Your machine returns the trust that you place in it through playfully bouncing over rough ground in a seemingly miraculous straight line, as others gaze upon you and are practically sunburned by the sheer confidence you exude. Come your transitions, you run at nearly a full sprint while your bike bounds along beside you, as though you are racing each other to the mount line or back to your station. There really is no other way to conduct a bicycle when it's not powered by your feet. 

There you have it- 5 easy steps to feeling and, more importantly, looking, fabulously stylish and stylishly fabulous in training and at the races. 

Either that, or more importantly, race like Chrissie and do whatever-the-hell-you-want while smiling. Crush the rest of your gender by half-an-hour in a race and, rather than following arbitrary style guidelines, whatever you do becomes the standard. But seriously- and that was totally serious- the most stylish thing you can do out there is simply have fun and race hard.

North Olympic Discovery Half-Marathon Race Report- June 5th, 2011

"In every race there is a crucial moment when the body wants to quit. Then it needs imagination and mental tenacity to survive the crisis. Otherwise the penalty is defeat." 

-Derek Ibbotson (T. O'Connor, 1960)

This last Sunday I opened up the running season with a beautiful race on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington. The North Olympic Discovery Marathon, Half-Marathon, and 10km take place on a beautiful, hard-surface path from Sequim to Port Angeles. The events are each point-to-point, picking up along the trail however many miles from the shared finish line. This would be my second time participating in the half-marathon but my first time running it. In 2007, I was battling ITB impingement and on that day it got the best of me, forcing me to run the last 8 miles literally on one leg.

Race morning of 2011, however, would find the sky blue and myself injury free as I packed into the car with my father (also running) and support crew of wife, brother, and mom to drive north towards Sequim.

My amazing wife also gets credit for the photography (other than this shot, of course, taken near the half-marathon start)

In the couple days prior to the race, I switched from my regular diet where I try to emphasize low energy-density, high-fiber foods like carrots with readily digested, processed foods like white pasta and cereal. Some of the same reasons as to why one would want to avoid excessive amounts of the latter foods in their normal diet make them a good option to eat in the days leading up to a race. They'll provide you with carbohydrates without making a long-term occupation of your GI tract (read: ambush on race-day). So there I sat in the car on the drive up to the race contentedly munching on Reese's Puffs cereal and a banana. I also had a tall glass of dark chocolate Almond milk before we left and brought along a cup of coffee. 

Arriving at Agnew Soccer Field, where the race begins, I first stopped by the last of a wonderfully long-row of porta-potties before heading over to registration to grab my number and timing chip. My brother kindly held the clothespins as I crumpled up the race number (this allows it to better conform to you body as you run). He liked to remind me that he set the family record for this race in 2007 with a solid 1:41 time that earned him 2nd in our age group. I'd jokingly asked him a few days prior, "What does your half-marathon record have in common with the milk in my fridge?" (Answer: they both expire this Sunday). 

Part of the gorgeous view from the starting area is seen behind my Dad and I as we pose for a quick photo before the race start. 

I've been training pretty heavily lately and had developed some phantom soreness in my right knee. Even though I hadn't felt any pain while running, I was quite intent on keeping it that way and set about a gentle warm-up. Tim Noakes, in his book Lore of Running, recommends a brief warm-up with some stretching and race pace efforts before starting and that's just what I set about doing, along with a few leg swings and other drills (butt kicks, high knees, and strides) to loosen up. We'd arrived at the starting area one hour before the 9am start time, which was a very comfortable buffer to get checked in, use the facilities and warm up. 

Speaking of warming up, sweats were unnecessary as the day climbed towards it's anticipated 70 degree temperature. As Noakes writes:

      "... as you amble nervously over to the horde of gathered runners, you need to take the "starting-line test."       This test, first described by Osler (1978), states that if while standing at the start in your skimpy running clothes you do not feel cold, then the weather for that day is too hot for you to run your best marathon. That being the case, remember the running axiom, 'in the cold you run for time, in the heat you run for a place,' and set your pace accordingly.... the novice who is too ambitious in the heat will suffer the ultimate indignity of turning to pulp and being passed by experienced runners like myself who know that the heat is the great equalizer."   

     Standing at the start line in my lightweight singlet and running shorts (both by Zoot, and those are my favorite shorts), I felt comfortable if slightly warm so I knew to hedge my fluid intake and pace accordingly. I seeded myself a little back of my anticipated pace, in the expectation that others would start too quickly, and shook my legs out as the announcer called down, "10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1..." and we were off!

The race start. In case you're wondering, and I know you're wondering, the race official in the foreground is on a Specialized Tarmac. 

The first couple hundred yards of the race are flat and take place on smooth, chip-seal roads. After a 180 out-and-back, the race joins up with the Olympic Discovery Trail which it follows to the finish at the picturesque Port Angeles shore-front. I felt very comfortable starting out and the first few miles rolled by painlessly as we ran through countryside worthy of a painting, framed by the alps of the Olympic Peninsula.

 Around the 4 mile mark, the first phase of the race through the gentle countryside ends and the next phase, that of slightly rolling and winding terrain through the forest, begins. There are a couple very short, very steep hills peppered throughout the course, and the first occurs just before you enter the forest and has lots of crowd support. 

Now several miles into the race, the field started to spread itself out even further. I was happy to be among the front of the race as we ran through the deceptively warm shade provided by the serene forest. With each little uphill that we faced, it seemed that I would give up around 1 meter to those I was running near, but with each downhill I focused on really opening up my stride and more than made it back. 

The race continues through the forest with aid stations every 1-2 miles. I haven't been tolerating liquids very well recently on runs, but the warmer weather forced me to change my plans when I battled a crash in energy at mile 6. I then modified my strategy at each aid station, grabbing a glass of water and Gatorade. I slowed my pace just enough to down the glass of Gatorade and poured the water over my head but then leaned forward, allowing the excess to drip off rather than weigh down my singlet. Proceeding in that manner I was quite refreshed and re-committed myself to making the best time I could to the next aid station. I always try to thank or at least acknowledge volunteers out on the course, and special thanks goes out to the band of musicians playing wood instruments that set up shop in the forest. 

Around the 8 mile mark, the trail emerges from the forest and hits a long, fairly steep downhill that parallels the highway. I did my best to let my legs fly free and allow gravity to do the work as I tried to hold off a very fast looking runner in a yellow singlet that read, "we roll like Supinators!" After a short stretch on a wooden boardwalk, we hit a looong, gentle downhill nicely in the shade of tall forest and I really did my best to push the pace. I pushed the pace perhaps too hard, unfortunately, as I came out from the forest and the pace pushed me right back when I reached the final section- an approximately 4 mile stretch along the waterfront to the finish. You can actually see the finish from this point and it's either encouraging or quite dispiriting, depending on your energy level. My plan was to hit this part of the course and really open up, passing all those who had taken it out too hard. Unfortunately this goal didn't really materialize. I've had great bike volume the past 9 months as I studied for my courses, but such are the time constraints of medical school that I could only get in 1-3 runs a week. Recently that increased to 4-5, but it may have been a case of too little, too late as I had neither the consistency in running or foundation in mileage to maintain my desired pace over the last few miles. Instead, I found myself just working on maintaining the best pace that I could as I hit a tempo towards the finish. 

My right knee, which I'd been concerned about, had remained totally quiescent throughout the race and would fortunately continue to do so. But only to leave me surprised by the completely unanticipated rebellion of my left, which began to hurt suddenly and fairly severely at a strategic point in the last 2 miles of the race. After a short deliberation, I stopped and quickly strapped on the patella strap that I'd been carrying and the result was almost miraculous- an immediate reduction in pain to get me back towards running instead of the pained shuffle I would have been otherwise forced into. In this fashion I was led to the finish, and came in with a time of 1:37:31, good enough for first place in my 20-24 age group and 31st overall. 

Picking up a very nice plaque at the awards ceremony

Overall, I would very highly recommend this race for it's gorgeous scenery, excellent execution, and phenomenal post-race food/atmosphere/location. Though the hard surface of the bike path can beat up on your joints, it really is an inspiring run through some beautiful countryside and I had a lot of fun racing.