Spring Road Races (are finally over!)

Spring is road racing season for me since the trails tend to be a muddy snowy mess, plus I think some fast flat running is a good way to gauge my fitness each year (#anysurfaceanydistance or whatever). The downside to this tradition is that - as I have come to learn - I don't really enjoy running on roads. No sir, I'm definitely a trail runner through and through. So here are some quick updates on how my road races went, and then we'll get back to the good stuff in a few weeks.

Lenape 50K: New Year, Same Navigation Issues

So here's the good news: I spent less than 10 seconds off course at the Lenape 50K this year, shattering my record low of 14 minutes set last year. The bad news is that my missed turn was literally the very first turn on the entire course, less than a tenth of a mile into the race. Early enough that the entire field of runners watched me make this mistake and then yelled at me to get back on course...

Thankfully this wasn't a sign of things to come

The point is that despite running this race four times now, I still apparently have no idea where I'm going. I've been informed that my previous race reports are terrifying for first time runners because they think the course is impossible to navigate, and they imagine themselves getting horribly lost and dying of exposure in downtown Newark. Well rest easy, fellow runners, because it turns out that I'm just a fucking idiot.

Anyway, here goes my account of 2018...

Lenape Course

The Lenape 50K is a point-to-point fatass, which follows a faint series of trail blazes through roads, greenways, and forests across northeastern NJ. The course gets progressively more difficult as the race progresses, with much of the final 10 miles on rocky single track.

Course map. The race runs from east to west.

Elevation profile

The Race

Having just run Mt. Mitchell the week before, I again promised myself that this would be a long run effort, rather than a full race effort. No last minute dashes for the finish, no seeing stars on the final uphill, none of that funny business. Just a nice moderate effort for 5-6 hours to work on my endurance before the NJ Marathon.

Runners in Newark train station before the start
Photo courtesy of Anthony Longano

After my initial navigation error (yes, I know I'm dumb), I was immediately passed by the dynamic duo of Jay Lemos and Jayson Kolb, who would run together and easily go on to tie for the win in 5:17. The first 13 miles were all on pavement or sidewalks, and I chugged along at a steady 8:30/mi effort, chatting with Chris McGovern and Joe Limone. The weather was a brisk 40 degrees and windy, but these early miles passed quickly as we discussed our racing plans for the summer. The days leading up to the race had seen snow and rain, and the patches of snow lining the road hinted at the wet trail conditions that we would face later in the day.

Early paved miles in Branch Brook Park
Photo courtesy of Anthony Longano

At mile 14, we made a steep snowy 200 foot climb up to Mills Reservation and I pushed ahead on the sloppy trail, now running alone. The next few miles were slow and wet, but otherwise uneventful. As the course went through Cedar Grove and Montclair, the course was a mix of bike paths, snowy trails, and roads, so it was tough to stay in a rhythm.

Another 200 foot climb at mile 22 brought us to Eagle Rock Reservation, where I made one of my many wrong turns last year. As I passed the trail that I mistakenly took that year, I flipped it off for good measure. That'll teach that trail to uh... let me run on it, I guess.

The trail spit us out onto Rt. 611 in West Orange, where a few tricky turns had us crossing under I-280 and then climbing a power line cut which gained 200 feet in a quarter mile of slushy, slippery, overgrown trail. This is the kind of masochism that keeps running interesting, and I made quick work of this section with a big dopey grin on my face.

A runner coming up the power line
Photo courtesy of Anthony Longano

From here, it was a short jaunt through a neighborhood (big thanks to a local woman who paused from shoveling her driveway to point me in the right direction), and then we were back on trails for the remainder of the race. Miles 27 and 28 passed through marshy areas, and I carefully crossed the icy wooden boards that were placed in particularly wet parts of the trail. A few near-falls into frigid water convinced me to slow my pace until the trail got better.

Entering South Mountain Reservation around mile 29 was a relief because I knew I was on the home stretch, but the last few miles would be the most difficult of the race. A series of hills on washed out rocky trails meant that these miles were my slowest of the day. Keeping my promise to myself, I trotted along at the same effort level that I had maintained for the previous 5 hours.

After a final rocky descent, I reached the parking lot and smacked the back of Jay's van, which acted as the finish line. My final time was 5:36:11, about five minutes slower than my previous best, but in worse conditions and a lower effort level. Not bad. As a bonus, my time was good enough for 3rd place, which meant that I got one of the coveted wooden trophies that Jay made.

Jay, Jayson, and myself showing off our hardware.
Note that they had enough time to change their clothes before I got there!
Picture courtesy of Jay Lemos

The part where I find out how much Jay likes my race reports

It's well known in the local running community that I write very lengthy - some would say tedious - reports for just about every event I participate in. Jay has noticed this over the years and tends to give me a hard time about it. But secretly, I know that he loves spending hours poring over my epic tales of heroism (and whatever the opposite of heroism is).

When I requested the above picture, Jay asked, "Is this conversation going to end up in your race report?"

A sparkle in his eye (or maybe it was the sun shining through his hair) told me that he was really asking "Can you make me the star of your report?"

Of course not, I replied with a wink, as I mentally filed away the conversation for later use.

"Good," he responded, "because that would be pointless."

Indeed, Jay.

Strava data

Official results

New Jersey Marathon: New Year, Same Speed

I went into this year's NJ Marathon feeling like I did (almost) everything right. I didn't race too much in the spring and gave myself a full 8 weeks to recover from Lenape, train, and then taper. By comparison, last year I ran the brutally tough Breakneck Marathon two weeks before NJ and then Bear Mountain 50 miler two weeks after it. I also managed to avoid aggravating my right calf/Achilles tendon this year, which I have done both of the past two springs. So, pretty successful all around.

The Race

The weather on April 29 was absolutely perfect. Scattered showers in the early morning darkness gave way to a fifty degree day with partly cloudy skies and a slight breeze. Not exactly beach weather, but if you're a stocky runner who tends to overheat in the sun, this is an ideal scenario.

Getting dropped off and looking like a homeless person
Photo by my mom

I tucked in behind the 3:10 pace group, hoping to take a few minutes off my previous best of 3:15, which I set at last year's race. A 3:10 finish would mean 7:10-7:15 per mile, depending on how well I ran the tangents of the course.

Miles 1-6: 7:10, 7:04, 7:11, 7:07, 7:08, 7:12

I did my best to stay patient in the initial chaos of the start. I often find myself scrambling to pass slower runners in the first few miles in order to stay with the pace group, but this kind of early adrenaline rush can have disastrous consequences later in the race.

Around mile 6, I found myself getting a little ahead of the pacers. In retrospect, I should have backed off the pace and let them take the full force of the wind, but I was feeling good so I forged ahead.

Miles 7-13: 7:13, 7:10, 7:07, 7:06, 7:05, 7:06, 7:12

I was still going strong through here and I stayed about 10-20 seconds ahead of the pacers. It was nice to not be in a pack of runners, getting jostled and bumped or worrying about people abruptly stopping in front of me at water stations.

I passed Alex, my mom, and Julie at mile 9, and they were enthusiastic as usual. A little while later I hit the half marathon timing mat with 1:34:40 elapsed, setting a new personal record at that distance. That reminds me, I should really try racing a half marathon again. As Alex says, "It's such a lovely distance."

Feeling good for now
Photo by Alex

Miles 14-20: 7:12, 7:17, 7:18, 7:06, 7:19, 7:19, 7:22

Somewhere in here, the wind started to pick up, and the pace group caught back up to me. I was still feeling strong, but it became more of an effort to hold my pace. Finally around mile 19 or 20, they passed me for good, and I was on my own in the quietest part of the course.

Miles 21-26: 7:22, 7:40, 7:35, 7:41, 7:32, 7:25

Of all the "walls" that I have hit during a marathon, this was the mildest. I couldn't stick to my pace, but my drop off was much less significant than in previous years. I slowly lost sight of the pace group, but I found other runners to chase down. I saw Jun Bermudez, a fellow ultrarunner with whom I shared some miles at Grindstone in 2016, and I made it my goal to keep him in sight.

My hamstrings complained and threatened to quit, so I shortened up my stride and tried to keep my cadence as high as possible. I focused on my form, reminding myself to keep my elbows back, push forward with my hips, etc... With a mile to go, I caught up to Jun. I tried to say nice job, but instead I wheezed something incoherent as I passed by.

Two tenths to go and still not dead yet
Photo by Alex

At mile 26.0, I saw my little cheering squad again, now flanked by Harry and Eileen "The Half Marathon Queen" Uberti. I managed a smile and a feeble kick as I passed by, entering the boardwalk for the home stretch.

Harry with the greatest marathon sign ever
Photo by Alex

I crossed the finish line in 3:12:56, a two minute improvement over last years time.

Thoughts

I'm pleased to be a little closer to a Boston Marathon qualifying time, but it sucks that I only improved by two minutes after a year of training and more rest leading up to the race. I guess the takeaway from this is that I shouldn't bother avoiding fun races in the spring to save myself for my annual marathon attempt.

Next year I'm running whatever the hell I want to, and if that means I'm a few minutes slower in the marathon, I can live with that.

Strava data

Official results

Next Up

Now that this road nonsense is out of the way, we can get down to serious business.

Manitou's Revenge 54 miler is on June 23, and then the big mama race of 2018 - Fat Dog 120 - is in August. Along the way, I'll probably have some other adventures in the mountains.

Stay tuned.