Black Friday is fast approaching and if you find yourself in the market for a new, or upgraded, fitness watch, you might find yourself quickly overwhelmed by all the brands, models, features and choices that have flooded the market in the last few years. Everyone really wants you to get your 10k steps each day.
It’s easy to get lost in all the fitness data you can collect now during your workouts. Does anyone really need to know their power output when running? So far, I’m convinced most of it is just noise. Maybe interesting noise, but not really all that helpful in helping you get more fit or get more competitive.
Of course it’s not all junk data. Some of the data is helpful to track. I like to use two particular fitness tests, one for cycling and one for running, and tracking the resulting data from those tests really helps me judge my current fitness, any improvements, and just what I can expect in any upcoming races.
Real runners don’t use treadmills. Or something like that. There is a bias against treadmills in the fitness community. Some just find them boring. Some think they can cause injuries. Some just really hate them for other personal reasons.
Living in the Northeast, I’m not going to say I prefer running on the treadmill, but I’m glad they exist to help keep my motivated and in-shape in the dead of winter. However, being a data nerd, I do often wonder about treadmill workouts. I certainly don’t totally trust the numbers the treadmill is spitting out.
Just how hard are you actually working on the treadmill? What is the pace if you change the incline? Do your mechanics change on the treadmill? Should you really always set it to a 1% incline? Let’s get some answers.
I turn 40 this year and time is growing short (just kidding!) so let’s get the big one out of the way first. I’m going to run the Chicago Marathon in October. At the end of last season when I started thinking about this year’s fitness goals, I originally thought I would try to go after that sub-90 minute half-marathon. Truthfully, the half marathon is probably my favorite running event but somehow that didn’t seem big enough, memorable enough for a milestone year like 40. Go big or go home, right?
There was a point in the race at about mile 24 where the crowds thinned and we were running by a small pocket park that fronted the Merrimack River. Gravel paths weaved around low shrubbery and birch trees, all of it offering a nice view of the riverside foliage and the city of Lowell beyond it. It seemed like a nice place to spend some time. You know what else it had? Benches. Smooth slats of wood, warmed by the sun that promised solid support for some very tired legs. It was a tantalizing siren. The skinny guy in the blue singlet, that I had been following for over twenty miles, veered right, sat on the first bench he passed and closed his eyes. He didn’t look like he was moving anytime soon.
I didn’t blame him one bit.
Being a first time marathoner, if there was one thing I was naive about it was those last three miles. Holy hell. Nothing in training can really replicate the fatigue, both physical and mental, of those final miles. If it did, I’m not sure how many people would keep signing up.
But first, let’s start at the beginning.
I stocked up on sleep in the days leading up to Sunday, but actually didn’t find it too hard to sleep the night before. My only regret was that I missed the Red Sox clinching win, but I’m sure, even with the sleep stockpile, I would have been regretting staying up when that alarm hit at 4:30 a.m.
I had packed my gear bag the night before so the morning was more about making sure I stuck to my routines and took in the proper nutrition: 1 cup of coffee, rice cereal with honey and almond butter and then water. I brought my pre-workout drink in the car.
I did not repeat the mistake of the last month’s harried half marathon start. We arrived at the race well before the sun and had plenty of time to get oriented. We actually might have been a bit too early. Parking in one of the garages suggested in the race information, but not the one directly opposite the course, we were left on the empty, downtown streets with little direction of where to go. We weren’t the only ones either. Small packs of other people in spandex and running shoes were also wandering the pre-dawn streets. Eventually, with some trial and error, we worked our way over to the race start, but a few prominent signs would have been helpful.
Thankfully, they opened the first floor of the high school as a staging area because it was still quite chilly. I wish they had opened the locker rooms too, as the bathroom lines,even this early, quickly grew lengthy.
The bag check was quick and easy. Maybe too easy as my tag ended up getting ripped off causing some confusion in retrieving my bag later at the finish area. While the start and finish were in the approximate same area, it wasn’t exactly the same, so volunteers were taking bags and tossing them into a U-haul before driving them over to the finish.
After the bathroom line and bag check, the sun had come up and I ran through my warm-up. Plenty of space (but little grass if you wanted to lie down to stretch) to warm up and jog around the starting line. Soon enough it was time to line up and go. The race was self-seeding, no corrals, but there was plenty of space and little jostling or pushing for position.
One oddity to note that I’ve never experienced before in a race occurred right at the start. It was noted that the roads were not closed, but I did not expect a police van with siren blaring to come driving straight into the crowd about 400 yards into the race when both the full and half marathon were together and blanketing both sides of the road. I hope it was important.
The marathon was essentially two big loops with little spurs at the start and end to get you back to the Tsongas arena area where the race started and ended. It was just as flat (and for some, not me, as fast) as advertised.
If I had any complaints about the race, it would be on the outward half of the loop. It was very congested (with the roads open they coned off the shoulder and a little extra for us). They also rather inexplicably placed these low directional signs for the marathon/half marathon split right in the middle of the course causing many folks to hurdle, swerve or crash into them. Finally, the road itself in this area was very chewed up (pot holes, cracks, uneven pavement) which caused a couple close calls on turned ankles. It all didn’t make for easy running. Once the field thinned, it was less problematic on the second loop, but still less than ideal.
Fortunately, things improved on the back half. The commercial district, scrub grass and railroad tracks fell away and we had mostly new pavement and foliage-laced river views to carry us along until we hit the mass of spectators at the next bridge and the turn for the start of the next loop.
I had an average day overall. I never really felt terrible (last couple miles excluded) but never really felt great either. On a few of my long runs I’ve found that sweet zone where clicking over a 7:40 mile after mile just feels so easy. Never felt that on Sunday. I had hoped to keep things in cruise control, slowly lowering the pace, until mile 20 before I really started to dig in and concentrate, but I felt myself laboring probably by mile 15 and was never really able to put in a kick at the end. I didn’t totally falter either. Using the 3:30 pace group as a guide, I kept pretty even splits throughout the race.
On the nutrition side, I think I could have done better. I used two gels, ate one date and one Clif block, about half the food I was carrying. The aid stations were perfectly spaced about every mile and half to two miles and had water and Gatorade at every stop. I think I only skipped one and usually took Gatorade over the water. I think those extra calories gave me just enough to finish. The one fail moment during the race was my salt/electrolyte pills getting stuck in the container. I was able to get two out, but two remained jammed no matter what I tried. I missed that extra salt in those last miles.
One other thing that really messed with my mind, even though I knew it would happen, was the ‘extra’ running you do during the marathon. A certified course is measured so that the absolute minimum you can run is the race distance. Most entrants will run more, sometimes significantly more. I tried to be careful and keep to the side, but I still ended up running 26.4 and trust me when my watch hit 26.2, my body really, really, really wanted to be done.
The Results – Local Class all the way!
As I mentioned above, it was a solid day. I executed most of my plan and though I couldn’t finish quite as strong as I would have liked, my steady splits over that distance, especially for a debut, were a sort of achievement in and of itself. Or so I tell myself. My fastest mile was 7:41 (mile 24 at that!) and my slowest was 8:03 (my only mile over 8 minutes and I blame my fussing with getting my dates unwrapped from the pesky Saran wrap). You can see me start to push (as much as I was able) and drop the pace to the low 7:40s at mile 23 and I wish I could have held that through the end but mile 26 included a diabolical section of banked, curved road that had my feet screaming and sapped whatever little energy I had saved for the end.
I did run a slightly positive split by 1:40 but can’t work up the energy to chastise myself too much for that.
You’ll also notice this race gives you an ‘age grade’, something I haven’t seen before, but is apparently more common in Europe. It’s supposed to normalize the results across age and gender to better allow runners to compare against each other (like people that run these things really need another competitive stat!). I received a 60.98%. The 60-70% range rates as ‘Local Class.’ I’ll take it!
Call me superficial, but if the race itself is well run and organized (and even for charity) but they stiff you on the post-race refreshments, it’s a negative in my book. This race did not skimp. Rarely has something tasted so good as the salted vegetable soup I had at the finish line. They were also fully stocked with bananas, water, protein bars, PB&Js, soup and soda. There might have been more, but at that point I really just wanted to find a bench.
A special thanks to my support crew: Chelle, Cecilia and Dad. I really needed those high-fives at mile 23 and I really, really needed the support back to the car!
This race is advertised as for runners, by runners and it’s an apt description. There’s very little fluff that you might find with more for-profit races (the expo was practically non-existent), but what’s left is really what matters.
- Low stress pre-race & post-race environment
- Traffic wasn’t bad pre or post race
- Second half the course was scenic and the loop allowed spectators to see runners twice with little effort
- Well stocked finish area
The only complaint I have is what I mentioned above about the roads, congestion and rather hum-drum scenery of the first part of the race.
If you are looking to post a PR or pick up a BQ, then this is probably your best opportunity in New England. Its very flat with only a few gentle rollers. The pace groups are great and it attracts a fast field if you are looking to follow some feet.
Other than the first race of the season being snowed out, my horrible weather streak in 2012 has mostly flipped and produced some really great days in this year. I’m sure this dooms next month’s marathon, but for this half marathon, the weather was cool, dry, bright and sunny.
Woke up on time (always a source of stress and wildly imaginative scenarios where I miss the race) and had my coffee (gotta get things moving) with my Chrissie Wellington breakfast: a bowl of rice cereal with a little salt, a dollop of honey and a spoonful of almond butter.
I mixed up some Vega pre-workout energizer to sip in the car then double-checked my (now clear for security) race bag: nutrition (2 dates, a gel and some lemon-lime Clif blocks), watch and some extra clothes and I was ready to go.
After a wrong turn (very unlike me, I was carpooling with a friend that was racing and just to chatting, also sort of unlike me), we made it to race site and were greeted by a long line of taillights. I have to say it was sort of unexpected. The race was being held outside a horce racing track, so there was ample, ample parking, but due to restrictions or poor traffic logistics things backed up pretty severely.
By the time we parked, there was less than a half hour until the race start time (and still many, many cars in line). One thing we did not have to stress about was rest rooms. Usually a good chunk of pre-race planning is timing your last port-a-potty trip. Thankfully, between the race track facilities and ample portable stalls, there were very short lines all around. Yay!
If the race directors stepped up with the toilets, they fell down with the bag check. With less than ten minutes until the race the line was still probably a hundred deep waiting for the two or three volunteers (I couldn’t even see that far) to rack everyone’s bag. This should be the last thing a runner needs to stress about. Boo! I ended up jogging back to my car and hurriedly running back to the start.
Despite all the lines and parking woes, the race started on time. I do appreciate a prompt race director. There is nothing worse than being all warmed up and stuck in the corrals.
The first three to four miles wind through the working class East Boston neighborhood that surrounds the race track and for the early hour there were quite a few people hanging out by their front doors cheering us on. My only complaint was the pavement in parts wasn’t great and you really had to watch your step.
I managed to avoid rabbiting out too fast, in my mile splits you can see where I start to throttle back to keep things in check. I settled in and let the pack mostly flow around me until I found a group going my speed.
The middle of the course is run right along the ocean by Revere Beach. New pavement, closed roads, the ocean on one side, interesting beach shops and restaurants on the other made this a really nice part of the run. There were a few live bands along the route, as well as some DJs in case the scenery wasn’t enough.
Once we reached the first turnaround and the halfway mark, I was still feeling good and I started to let my speed naturally creep up. There were aid stations about every two miles and I was taking liquids at each one, even just a mouthful, alternating between Gatorade and water.
At the second turnaround as we started to leave the beach and loop back through the neighborhoods toward the track, I let go of the watch and just ran as hard as I could. Unlike past races were I faded quite badly or had my IBTs tighten up to the point were I was almost limping home, I finished strong, really strong, passing a lot of people, beating my prediction and grabbing a new PR.
In retrospect, maybe I was a little too conservative in the first part of the race. Next time, I think I might try to lower my overall average mile time a bit and smooth out the overall splits. Still, it’s hard to complain about setting a PR. I ran the race I planned: rehearse for the marathon, stay on pace early, finish strong. The second half of my run was 2:33 faster than the first half and each 5k reflected the plan to pace than build to a finish (23:33, 23:49 (checking my pace on purpose), 23:06, 21:38). Hard to really complain too much.
They had the medals being handed out, finisher photos and water in the chute. The rest of the snacks and drinks were inside the track. The spread was a little thin for such a large event. Bananas, oranges, strawberries(?), more water, and Oreos.
There was also a large beer garden and live band (maybe this is where the money went), however the beer garden didn’t open until 10:30 while most of the 13.1 racers (the 5k was done) were finishing between 9 and 9:30. A long time to hang around. I saw a lot of people trying to give away beer tickets.
– nicely designed tech shirt (so many race shirts are ugly)
– an abundance of bathrooms
– well run race itself, plenty of aid stations
– nice middle section by the water
– a little expensive (though this seems to be the growing norm)
– pre/post race logistics could be improved