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Morning swimming at Lake Anza

We’ve been practicing our open water swimming here at Lake Anza in Tilden Regional Park (Berkeley). One day Patty will embrace swimming. Today was not that day. For me, things are going fairly well with it. It really doesn’t bother me to be swimming in the green murk and I’m up to 1000 yards continuous swim in the pool. I’m feeling pretty confident about swimming 400m during the triathlon in a few weeks. The main issue now is sighting. Doing it without using a lot of energy is a problem, which probably means I’m trying to get my head too far out of the water, or attempting to do it at the wrong time. Of course swimming around in circles is not good either. I might need to be able to swim 1000 yards!

peterm Swimming lake anza, open water, swamp monster, swimming, tilden

I’ve been playing around with an iPhone application called Brushes the past couple of days. Here’s a drawing I did last night at Kelly’s request.

Kelly: Close your eyes and tell me what you’re imagining…
Me: My bed…
Kelly: Then draw your bed, with a cute guy…
Me: Er.. Okay…

Cute guy on a bed

More here…

peterm Uncategorized

Yesterday Patty and I ran the Dick Houston Woodminster XC race in Oakland and I feel my interest in running restored. Why? Was it because we got to drive to it in our brand new 2010 Prius? I think so. Maybe. A little.

The other reason was because this is really fun. It was our first Handicapped race, which means different age and gender groups leave at different times. It seems a slightly old fashioned notion, but I guess it’s grounded in some real differences. Anyway, the result for us was that Patty headed off with the 2nd group to leave, while I stood around and left with the 35-45 men in the second last group. That put her 12 minutes ahead on a 9M hilly course. The target was a go.

Woodminster Elevation Profile

By the time it came to our group there wasn’t too many people at the start. I chatted to Francisco for a while, but I knew he was going to take off and there was no chance of keeping up. When they counted down the last 5 seconds I really hoped I’d be okay. My legs were still a little rough since the half marathon two weeks early and it’s probably fair to say I hadn’t had a good run since then. Anyway, it was too late to worry about if my legs were going to have a good run, we were off and the all male crew headed down the trail at break neck pace. Ahead of us was most of the field with between 4 and 16 minutes head start on us, including Patty, and behind us were the fast young men in the final wave. It seemed like we were going pretty fast. When we hit the first uphill I looked at my watch: 7:20 min/mile pace. Yep, a little fast! But the first big hill (400ft in half a mile) took care of that problem as we first trotted up the bottom section and then settled in to a power walk to the top.

Once that was out of the way we pushed on with runners still close behind and in front of me, onto Sequoia Bayview (one of our favorite East Bay Trails). Around here the first of the super-fast group from behind caught me. Amazing! In here I probably could have moved a little faster, but wasn’t ready to commit to overtaking a bunch of people. We crossed over Skyline and was stopped for a moment to let a car go by. Several people charged pass me when it okay to continue, which didn’t seem entirely sporting. At any rate we ran up the Chabot driveway and back onto the trail. At this point the climbing was done for the moment and it was either rolling or downhill for some miles and people were more spread out so I focused on not twisting an ankle, maintaining fast turnover on the downhills and pushing on the uphills. I managed to maintain a 8:30 min/mile pace through all three miles of this section, which was somewhat of a break-through for me on trails. I was catching people, I was flying down hills with recklessness caution, powering up others and missing aid stations. It was great.

All that came to an end at the famous “Woodmonster” hill which rises 800ft in a mile. Needless to say I walked the whole way up. I wondered if maybe I’d been going to fast, but there wasn’t really anyone passing me. Good runners or not, everyone around me was walking and groaning. “I hate this hill with a passion” declared a runner behind me. I’ve blanked out most of the memory of this part of the course, but my GPS recorded some pretty slow progress in here that I’d rather not document.

At the top I was officially tired, but set off to see how fast I could get this finished. I couldn’t maintain the rate of the earlier miles as easily now, but I was still moving along, hitting 9:30 through the Redwood Bowl and Chabot area followed by 8:45 and around 9:00 paces for the last two miles. It wasn’t enough to catch Patty through, who crossed the finish line about a minute ahead of me. My actual time was just over 1 hr 30 minutes, I time I can’t really compare to anything, but that I’m proud of anyway.

We stayed around for the trophies to be handed out (none came our way), then headed back to the Prius to proudly initialize its floor mats with some hard earned trail dust.

peterm Race reports prius, race, trailrunning, woodminster, xc

Kelly headed to summer camp for the first time this week. She is now an Engineer and a modern artist.

Kelly's bridge design

Kelly modern art

peterm kelly bridges, camp, engineering, kelly

Last night Kelly took part in her 8th grade buddy’s graduation ceremony. This mostly involved walking with them up to the front of the stage.

8th grade graduation

Kelly and her 8th grade buddy Simone

This afternoon Kelly’s class had a small moving up ceremony where they showed a self portrait they’d drawn at the beginning of the year and then at the end. Then the kids walked (or bounced on their knees) up to the teachers to get their certificates.

Kelly moving up from Kindergarten to 1st grade

peterm kelly graduation, kelly, school

Two down, one to go. Yesterday we ran the Lake Chabot Trail Challenge, the 2nd race in the East bay triple crown.

This half marathon was written up in runner’s world a couple of years ago as the best off-road half marathon in the country. I’m not really sure about that, but it’s nice.

The course is a very demanding, hilly loop with some technical ascents and descents. You won’t set a personal record here, but that’s precisely the appeal. The dirt trails you’ll cover are part of 315 beautiful acres surrounding Lake Chabot, about 25 miles east of San Francisco. You’ll run among giant California redwoods and fragrant eucalyptus trees. And each torturous climb comes with its own reward: some of the best vistas in the Bay Area.

In a way this race was a home coming. We ran this on the way to our first marathon two years ago, and it was a our first real trail run. We were shocked at how hilly it was, and how brutally unprepared we were, but at the same time completely elated with our result. This time, much has changed. I finished about a minute per mile faster than that last time, and felt in much better shape afterwards. The course was beautiful as usual and the weather was cool enough this time. The new organizers of the race, the Castro Valley Track Club, added a new level of organization to the event too. Here’s a few random thoughts about what has improved since I ran this two years ago:

1. 13 miles is not a long run these days. I had plenty of endurance left at the end of this. Not enough to catch the guy who ran by me on the final hill, but enough to run the final mile in less that 9 minutes.
2. Hills: I almost love them! I ran or walked by a lot of people on uphills this time.
3. Downhills have gone from weakness to relative strength. You can make up a lot of ground on a steep downhill if you don’t crash, but you can’t be shaky legged from the previous uphill.
4. I passed two people with ironman gear on (really, isn’t that just showing off? see Rule 13), the woman with the purple singlet who taunted me the whole way through Tilden Tough Ten only to beat me, and the crazy woman with the fake tan running with a rat dog.
5. My HR was much lower than it has been in the past for most of this race. In fact, my HR data would tend to indicate I wasn’t actually that stressed running this.

Course Profile (+/- 2350ft)

I’ve been contemplating this race a lot over the past day, however, and here’s what I keep coming back to: the lack of elation. Crossing the finish line this time didn’t seem particularly noteworthy. There it was, its numbers ticking up, the time low enough to reflect two years of running and the effort of the past two hours. There were people clapping and someone yelling my name. How did I feel? Glad to not be running anymore, a little like throwing up, and generally wondering why I do this.

Patty didn’t have a very good run either, which is starting to become the norm rather than exception. I lost contact with her walking up the huge hill at mile 3-4.5. When I looked back she was nowhere to be seen. At the top of the hill was the first aid station where I waited for a bit, but she wasn’t coming, so I continued on even though I felt like I wanted to run this race with her. In the end she finished in basically the exact same time she did 2 years ago. Afterwards she declared that she’s given up running, though I might be able to talk her out of that. Even for me, with my list of things which have obviously improved in the last two years , shouldn’t there be some excitement associated with finishing a race? Perhaps those days are gone.

Anyway, while we ponder out motivation levels, we have another race in two weeks, the Woodminster race, then it’s on to try a tri in July.

peterm Race reports lake chabot, Race reports, trailrunning

When we got out of the car, I knew we were in trouble. The shirt I’d put over my running singlet was already too hot. The temperature, at 7:30 am, was in the 70s. Heat pockets wafted up the canyon. Oh boy.

It’s been our plan this year to do the triple crown of trail races, this being the first, the Tilden Tough Ten. It’s a 10 mile race put on by our running club each year. It’s an out and back course, with the middle mile or so being on dirt.

We walked up the road to the start area. Already chaos had started with the race, in addition to the heat. The port-a-potties had not turned up. A long line stretched back from the two toilets available. We walked over to the registration table and picked up out bibs and discarded our shirts by a tree. Someone walked up to a volunteer and asked if they could fill their water bottle. The answer was no. They didn’t seem happy. The PA system was also not working, a whole other story. Len walked around trying to get people’s attention with a mega-phone. He was telling them about the port-a-potty situation. Right then the port-a-potties turned up, attached to a EB Regional Parks pickup truck.

Temperatures rising

We settled into the back of the waiting crowd of runners and were soon on our way. I set off at around 9:30 pace, thinking I could probably run 9:00ish on a less hilly 10 miles, but wanted to save some. I’d run 9:30 until the turn around, walk up the hill, and then see what I had left. The plan went well. For a while. The path rolled up and down and had some good shaded sections. My legs felt good and my HR stayed low enough.

And we're off

As I headed onto the dirt at mile four, with its steeper rougher surfaces, I was starting to feel it. The previous couple of miles had consisted of 1) an extended gradual downhill, although almost completely exposed to the sun and the hot easterly wind and 2) a good sized hill. The downhill had hid the fact that I was baking, dehydrating fast, and that maybe my pace had been too fast for the conditions. The hill I’d just come up had laid the truth bare.

Around here I saw the lead runners heading back. They looked pretty distressed, for the most part. By the time I hit the steep downhills there was plenty of the fast runners headed up. Some of them looked like they were about the keel over. Almost all of them were walking. I knew at least I’d be walking back up the hill.

I headed down to the turnaround aid station, grabbed some water, and then started my walk up. I walked by several people, but by the top I was cooked. My HR was up to 190 or so, which happens, but I was wondering to myself what that meant on such a hot day. I resolved to make my way back by keeping my HR in the 180s. Time didn’t matter. I walked for a bit, even though it was flat, and then slowly picked it back up to a run. It was survival mode.

On the way back lots of people were walking. I passed an emergency vehicle while it was assisting a downed runner. It looked like one of the lead runners. He didn’t look like he was conscious. Later a helicopter air lifted him out. (he recovered). There was numerous other emergency vehicles headed in too. I wondered what was going on behind me. The scene had deteriorated, obviously.

Emergency Vehicles

I mostly ran all the way back to the finish, though I took my sweet time at one of the aid stations. They had a hat dip, which was the best treat of the day. In the end I finished in just under 1 hour 46 min. By the end of the race the temperature was around 88 deg.

Runner down

Although my time was way slower than my plan, I was happy enough to have got out there and finished such a brutal race. Or maybe I was just happy it was over and I wasn’t lying on the side of the trail being devoured by ants. In the end I suppose I’d call it good experience. We don’t have too many hot races in the Bay Area and now I’ve had two of them in a row to learn from. Who am I kidding?! If the forecast is for 90+ degrees when I have a race to do like this one, this is what I’ve learnt: stay home.

From the race we went to a brunch (changing a toweling down in a pullout), rushed home, showered and then headed to Patty’s graduation. She’s now a teacher!

Course map and elevation profile from my GPS.

Note: photos are from the LMJS website

peterm Race reports ants, ems, graduation, hat dips, LMJS, Race reports, Running, tilden tough ten

peterm kelly dancing, kelly

Us and Mickey at Disneyland

peterm LA disneyland, kelly, LA

Swimming at Lions Pool in Oakland

This winter I’ve been trying to learn how to swim. This is kind of a big deal for me since I’ve always hated being in a pool. Sure, I can swim a bit. Breaststroke here or there, thread water, generally save myself in an emergency. But actual graceful swimming, effortless fishlike swimming, as in something I might do for exercise. No. Never.

So right before Christmas I joined the YMCA and started going there with a friend from work. She was a high school swimmer and pretty much does swim like a fish. So much so that it amuses her how bad I am at swimming. At one point I finally demostrated what I knew of free style. It lasted a few strokes before I stood up shocked at how much water had just gone up my nose. She thought for a moment and then declared that I was lifting my head to breath and my legs were sinking. Hmmm, just one of the problems. I stood mid-pool dejected. How could I suck at this so badly.

As the winter continued I concentrated on the drills in my teach yourself swim video (Total Immersion (TI) if you must know). Satisfied I could glide around OK, I got as far as what they call skating. You glide along on your side with the bottom arm outstretched towards where you’re going, head looking towards to bottom. This was the first a-ha moment for me. I could balance in the water, kick gently, and move along like I was almost swimming. When I needed to breath I rolled onto my back to breath, took a couple of good breaths then repeated. It was a big deal actually being in a lane and moving along with the other swimmers even if I had this wacky TI drill thing going the whole time. For fun, if I put on flippers, I could actually swim by my work friend. Completely cheating, but still, when it comes to victories and swimming I was willing to take anything I could get.

The next break-through came in the shallow kids pool where I was relegated due to packed lanes. The life guards hate me for using it because they have to get down from their usual tower and come over and watch me as well. And watch me they do. But they pretend not to. I know they do. And they contain their laughter too. I know they do. Anyway, I started to incorporate a stroke into my gliding and actually found a rhythm with using the entry of my hand into the water as the clue to do a body switch, pushing the hand forward in front of me in counter-action to the other hand pulling. It was just the way it was supposed be, at least how the video described it. It’s supposed to be a core action, the hands and arms just follow along with the program. At last, something in this stupid video was making sense.

For all the victories (ha, so far between victories), for a long time I was still left with a disconnect. I could skate, I could switch, I could roll onto my back for air, but somehow when I tried to put it together then it didn’t work. While the solution wasn’t obvious at the time, what was happening was when I took a breath my body would essentially fold under me, sending my butt down, head up, and sinking, spluttering, flailing resulted. The life guards would pretend they weren’t panicked each time I did this, but I could see them reaching for there floaty life saving thingeys. It wasn’t pretty, and it was discouraging.

Finally I had the breakthrough I needed, and initally I did it by cheating. I didn’t go out of my way to cheat, but it was still cheating. I broke with the TI rules and I started to pull with my offhand as I rolled to breath, rather than keep it straight out. It got my head to air. Then, after breathing, if my head almost dived back under following my arm into the water I kept some form of stability in the water and could stroke and breath again the next time up. For the first time in this long process I was swimming. It was crappy swimming, It was cheaters swimming, but I was swimming. I headed into the lap pool, put on fins for some extra help, and right then swam my first pool length. Then another. And another. Then I got out and quit while I was ahead.

I got back to work and hit the internet, then headed to the book store. One of the first things I read was in ‘Going Long’, the ironman book. It specifically mentioned my off-hand regression, that it was common for swimmers to push down with their hand to help them breath.

Off side arm — in an attempt to push our heads out of the water, many swimmers will push down with their offside arm when breathing. Remember to let the leading hand float for a little bit when breathing.

Hmmm, it’s good to see I’m not alone in this discovery. It didn’t have any solid advice about how to fix it, but I did get the idea it was to do with not having a proper roll. Next step was to watch swimming videos on YouTube all night and I noticed one thing which give me the final clue I needed. I had the idea to use my stroke to help with the roll, one hand entering the water to push that side down, the other hand pulling back and to my leg to pivot that side up, all the while turning my head to the air. Next time I was in the pool, family day at the local city pool, I gave it a go and it worked! No more off-hand regression, in fact it was necessary to extend my offhand to make it work right.

That was a couple of weeks ago and I think my stroke has come a long way. I can now work on specific parts of it as I swim rather than working on it for a couple of strokes and then standing up to breath. Within a week I’ve progressed to being able to swim 50m at a time, an official lap (not just a ‘Peter lap’ which equals 25m), and swimming a total of about 1000m over a session. The next goal will be to do 100m at a time and then keep working up my distance from there. Hopefully the improvements will keep coming with time in the water.

It’s been pretty amazing to get this far since it’s been something I’ve always hated and thought I was born to suck at. Now I don’t really suck at it much more than the next guy, and I’ve grown to really enjoy it as a form of exercise.  Now, if I can just figure out the effortless graceful fishlike part of it I’ll be all set.

peterm Swimming swimming