Butt to Butt 10k: Part Deux

Today's Butte to Butte 10k brings my race count this year up to an astonishing three. I do believe that's a record! I signed up yesterday on a whim, reasoning that it was the only way I'd get my ass out of bed before it got too hot for a longer run. I was also curious to see if this year's shirt would be as blatantly racist as 2014's:

I'm still convinced it was unintentional, but come on! How did this get approved?! I'm sure it's pure coincidence but 1862 is the year that Oregon banned interracial marriage and started charging people of color a $5 tax, because racism.

I'm happy to report that this year's shirt is just a picture of a shoe, similar in concept to the Eugene marathon logo.

Anyway, the course is meant to connect the two buttes in Eugene, Spencer and Skinner, although really it's just a run through town. Honestly, the route is not remotely scenic but there are a decent number of spectators, which kept things interesting. I particularly enjoyed the guy handing out tequila shots at the top of "the big hill." 

The race is also really well-organized: shuttle departures every five minutes and porta-potties as far as the eye could see. It made me laugh to think about the lone porta-potty at the start of the Ridgeline Ramble. I didn't stick around for the post-race goodies, but I remember having some awesome chocolate milk the last time I ran it.

I loved watching all the runners do their pre-race thing (despite running for eight years and having a freaking running blog, I still don't really consider myself part of that crowd. It might just be denial). It seemed like everyone was running, even forty-five minutes before the start. I was particularly amused by a few people who were looking around in confusion while doing hesitant knee lifts, seemingly unsure if that's what you're "supposed" to do before a race. As for me, I just sat on the grass and listened to music.

Before I knew it, we were off! They didn't have any corrals or signs with expected pace (or whatever systems are typically used to group similarly-paced people together) so the first few minutes were pretty slow, but after that I rarely felt as though other people were affecting my pace.

Speaking of pace, I'm very confused about mine. I don't know what my Garmin thought I was running, but it wasn't the Butte to Butte. Check out the data from this year's race versus the (nearly identical) course from two years ago:

I am the queen of shitty screen shots. 2016 on the left and 2014 on the right.

The elevation numbers are particularly confusing, as is that 9:53 mile (whose pace felt much more like miles 4 - 6 than 1 - 2). A Facebook friend did the race as well and recorded 6.4 miles, so who knows. I'd like to see the route Garmin recorded but for some reason there's no course data for my past three runs. Has anyone experienced this before? Any suggestions on how to fix it?

My official pace was an 8:45 (61/178 in my age group and 1/4 in the "people named Jean" category), which is fantastic if it's correct. I've been in vacation mode since the solstice, spending ten days in Alaska (pictures to follow!) and taking it easy since I got back to Eugene this past Friday. I was reasonably active back home although my runs over the past two weeks summed to a whopping 5 miles. I wondered whether I'd lost much running fitness but it seems the speedwork I did this past spring continues to pay off! This despite the fact that I'm 5 - 7 pounds over the weight I've been for basically 10 years now (which, even though it shouldn't, really irks me).

----

As promised, pictures from home! It was such a fun trip. The boyfriend came along and we did a lot of cool things.

Beluga Point 

Seward, where we camped for the night.

More Seward. Really gross beach, to be honest. There was slimy shit all over the place. 

Lost Lake! I kind of unknowingly (knowingly?) deceived my boyfriend into thinking it was a lot shorter than the fifteen miles it turned out to be. Whoops. I was pretty shocked to see snow at the lake, which looks a lot different in August.

Downtown Anchorage

Learning how to play cribbage was a good move.

We got to go on a glacier/wildlife cruise for free, which was SO cool. I've always been a bit snooty about touristy things like that but boy, was I wrong. Definitely worth the $150 price tag, in my opinion. Plus we got to drive to Whittier, a place you can only access through a 2.5-mile, one-lane tunnel and where nearly every resident lives in one building. It's a pretty wacky place.

Glacier.

More glacier.

Happy 4th, everyone!

Ridgeline Ramble

"Let's pretend you didn't just see me walking!" The photographer was hiding in grass midway through the final (brutal) ascent and completely caught me by surprise. I continued to run for another six feet or so before returning to a hike. Also, I apologize for taking this photo but I am a sort-of struggling grad student.

So despite my reservations, the Ridgeline Ramble was actually a pretty awesome time! I should consider racing for fun more often because it's a very different experience. For one, I actually slept the night before. I was also way less stressed about getting to the start on time because if I missed the shuttle to the start I got to go back to sleep! It was really a win-win situation. Of course, there was really no risk of me missing the shuttle because it was such a small race and the start was a six-minute drive from my apartment, but it was comforting nonetheless.

It was gratifying to cover the entirety of Eugene's Ridgeline trail in one go. I had been on all but about .25 miles of the course before so there weren't many surprises but considering the lack of variety in my normal runs, it was pretty exciting.

I realized two things during this race: a) trail runners are speedy people, and b) I'm horrible at downhills.

The latter isn't all that surprising given my preferred footwear, which isn't really conducive to bombing downhill. In fact, I've found that my pace is often slower on downhills. That must deserve some kind of award, right?

The former shouldn't have been that surprising but it was. I'm by no means a "fast" runner but I often seem to fall towards the bottom of the middle of the pack. I figured I'd do better than that in a trail race since I spend a fair amount of time on trails and don't seem to encounter that many runners out there, which obviously means I'm the only person on earth who hill trains (or, more logically, it's probably a time of day/failure to notice my surroundings kinda thing).

Nope! 77/99. I will say that I passed a lot of people once the climbing really started (miles 5 - 8), but they must have been largely 10k racers. To be clear, how I place in races is of very little importance to me but it was interesting to learn.

Here are some more stats if you're interested:

All in all, it was a nice way to spend a Saturday morning. Also, I know that most people hate it when a course is short but I was pretty damn happy it ended half a mile early. I was expecting to run circles around the finish line parking lot, which sounded pretty hellish, and was pleasantly surprised to realize the finish line was actually right there! It also made my official final pace a 10:45 which is obviously bullshit but it sounds a lot better than a 11:11, right? I'll take it!

Another Weekend, Another Race

I don't know how it happened*, but I'm running another race tomorrow. This one's called the Ridgeline Ramble. a 20k trail race on Eugene's Ridgeline trail. So it's basically my running tour from the other week with a different starting point. 

A whole lotta this

This was very much an impulse registration. I was at a brewery last night hanging out with my friends' puppy...

... when a drunk woman came over to meet the little one.

[side note: it is next to impossible to do anything or go anywhere with a puppy; everyone wants to say hello and go on and on about their own dogs.]

Anyway, for some reason she started talking about running up Skinner Butte and one of my friends immediately said "Jean does that." I guess that signaled to her that I wanted to talk about running, which I very much did not, but after some rambling she mentioned this race. I was kind of done with the conversation by then so (unconvincingly) said "Cool, yeah, maybe I'll see you out there!"

Surprisingly enough, I looked up the race as soon as I got home and figured, why not? It's a shorter distance than last weekend, albeit on harder terrain, and I can take it as slowly as I want. It was also only $30 and a (small) portion of the race covers some trail I haven't seen before.

I honestly kind of regretted signing up when I woke up this morning. The idea of waking up at 5:30 on a weekend is incredibly unappealing, plus I think I'm still kind of fatigued from my race last Sunday. But as long as I don't end up with a horrible injury I should manage to have some fun!

*I know exactly how it happened

2:02:10

And before any of you even realized I was racing, it's over! But man, what a frustrating race that was!

I'll start off by acknowledging that I raced well. Really well. I started off at a reasonable speed, continued at a consistent pace, was the only person I saw running up the large hill mid-race (granted, there were only like twenty people in my view) and didn't get passed by a single person after the first few miles. Crucially, I didn't get a 2:04, a number I worried was basically my limit post-minimalist-shoe-transition!! In fact, I PRed. 2:02:10.

But my god, I really thought I was going to sneak in under two hours. I ran the first 12 miles in 1:50:16 and had both the energy and desire necessary to kick it up a notch for the last mile. It was going to be close but I was fairly certain I had a sub-2:00 locked down. And then...

I ran an 11:09 final mile. Why? Because the race directors decided it would be funny to place the finish line at the top of an enormous hill. It gained over 250 feet in half a mile. What the f-ck?!?! Definitely didn't see that one coming!

Of course, I would have known it was there had I bothered to look more closely at the elevation profile provided to all runners. Really all I saw was a large-ish hill and a total gain of 940 feet, which didn't sound that bad. In fact, I had it in my head that we ended on a downhill. Whoops! 

Anyway, whine, whine, whine (wine, wine wine? This was a vineyard half, after all). I'll get over it. This just wasn't the race for me to go sub-2:00. That wasn't even my goal, really, but when you're running a 9:10 pace it would be kind of incredible if it didn't cross your mind. 

I'm kind of tempted to sign up for this half next month as a sort of redemption race but I'm not sure it's really worth driving the 30-ish miles to nowhere, Oregon. I do love how it (well, the marathon, actually) describes itself, though: "The Dam Marathon is named the most beautiful marathon in the United States by a runner in 2014 (who has run at least one marathon in every state)!!!" I'd be curious to know which Alaskan race that runner ran because the Mayor's Marathon is definitely more scenic than freaking Oakridge.

Racing... Fast?

So I'm running a race tomorrow and am (uncharacteristically) kind of nervous about it. It's not that I don't think I can finish; it's that I'm hoping to actually race it. See, I've never been someone who cares about running fast. I like running far and feeling strong, but speed has definitely never been a priority. In fact, my half PR (2:03:??) came from my very first race seven years ago! I have (impressively, might I suggest?) defied all expectations by staying the exact same speed for the entirety of my running career. Of course, my speed has fluctuated some depending on whether I'm training for something, but the pattern thus far has been pretty consistent: 2:03-2:1?-2:04-2:11-2:04-2:11-2:04-2:07 - slower when the half is a training run and faster when it's my goal race (with the exception of last fall's shitstorm).

A few months ago I decided it was time for a change: I was going to speed up my runs every once in a while! It started with a few quick spurts here and there, which evolved into 400/800-meter intervals, which then became actual tempo runs. My longest was 6 miles (excluding warm-up/cool-down) averaging an 8:50-ish pace. 

[Can I take a moment to add that tempo runs are so awful?!?!?! I know we all know that but can we just acknowledge it again for my sake? I avoid speedwork precisely BECAUSE it feels like shit! Of course, it feels like shit BECAUSE I don't do speedwork. Is that a Catch-22? A legitimate Catch-22? I've recently taken to calling everything a Catch-22 because I think it's funny but I don't think I've ever successfully called one before. But I digress.]

I have no idea whether all this speed stuff will translate into a faster race. It's hard to believe that it won't but I'm still skeptical. My biggest worry is that I'll be overly optimistic and start too fast (said every runner, ever). That never used to be a problem of mine until last fall. In fact, I often start much slower than necessary, believing myself less fit than I am. I guess that expectations can really f-ck up a race, huh? So this time around my goal is to strike a healthy balance between believing I can run fast(er) without deluding myself into thinking I can run, like, a four-minute mile. We'll see how it goes! Did I mention that my department's crazy annual party is tonight? Well it is. I failed to realize that when I paid $75 to register for this race. Stellar move, Jean.

----

I'll leave you with some pictures so this post isn't just words, words words. My boyfriend and I have wanted to go to "the" rhododendron garden for weeks now and finally got around to it this morning. After going I can't understand what all the fuss is about!*

*"You went far too late in the season," you say? "Those flowers are all dead," you say? Yeah, you're right. We got a good laugh out of it, though.

Running Tour of Eugene

Just time for a quick recap of... my long run!

Two things brought me back to the ol' blog:

1) I finally connected two routes I often run as out-and-backs and turned them into a loop. I knew it would be about twelve miles but until recently twelve miles was "too long" (although given that ten or eleven miles have been "totally manageable" for some time, that idea makes zero sense). With a half marathon on the horizon, though, I figured it was time!

2) For a while now I've thought about taking a picture during every mile of some run to share with you guys and give you an idea of what Eugene running (sometimes) looks like. There are plenty of boring, repetitive miles in this town but there are also some pretty cool places nearby. Looking through these photos also reminded me that a lot really can happen over the course of one run!

Unsurprisingly, it was a real pain in the ass to pull out my camera each mile, not to mention the fact that moseying about snapping photos may not be the best training strategy. Consequently this may be my first and last run tour but who knows! It was kind of a fun addition to my long run.

Mile 1: Amazon Park

Everything's so lush in Eugene right now! The volume of trees and flowers in the park seems to have ballooned almost overnight. Amazon Park is a pretty popular place for runners although there's only, like, a mile of trail so it's best used the way you'd use a track.

Mile 2: Rexius Trail

The Rexius Trail connects Amazon Park to the trails over by Spencer Butte but my god, it's boring. Nothing to see here.

Mile 3: TURKEYS!

Turkeys are badass. I see them occasionally in this part of town but it's infrequent enough that I flip out whenever it happens. They were not pleased by my presence (odor?). They puffed up once I got too close and ran off. Sorry dudes.

Mile 4: free water!

I don't know who these people are but I love them. This cooler contains free water and plastic cups for anyone in need and as far as I can tell, it's there every weekend. Today was the first day I actually took advantage of it (my handheld water bottle's only good for about 10 miles so I wanted to top it off).

Mile 5: trail!

Is this the Ridgeline Trail? I run here all the time and I still can't figure out which thing is actually Ridgeline. Whatever the case, this somewhat brutal hill takes you up, up, up to the trails around Spencer Butte. Again, it's all so lush right now!

Bonus mile 5: snail!

I couldn't help myself, this guy was too cute.

Mile 6: more trail

This was just before Dillard Road, which you have to run on for half a mile or so to access Mt. Baldy.

Mile 7: Mt. Baldy

It makes me laugh that this place somehow qualifies as a mountain when it's far smaller than the Butte and doesn't really have a summit. The views are pretty nice, though. That's a McMansion down there. This area is full of them. I was pretty excited once I made it here since it meant I was nearly done climbing!

Mile 8: more McMansions

To get from Baldy to Hendricks Park, you have to run through an insanely expensive-looking neighborhood. Seriously, this place is ridiculous. The massive hedge shrouding this mansion as well as the totally unnecessary gate made me laugh. Seriously, Eugene is so safe. Also, homeless people aren't going to shlep all the way out here to steal your shit.

Mile 9: 30th Ave.

Just a quick trip over the highway before getting back to trails at Hendricks Park.

Mile 10: Hendricks Park

This is next to the rhododendron garden, which was super popular today. This is also where my throat started freaking out and made me worry I was having an allergic reaction to... rhododendrons? Unclear. I'm nearly back to normal two hours later so I'll take that as a good sign.

Mile 11: Hayward "who gives a shit" Field

I altered my route slightly to take this gorgeous shot. YOU'RE WELCOME. But seriously, the excitement this thing incites confounds me.

Mile 12: Spencer Butte

Twelve miles in the books! 

This ended up being a really enjoyable run, and not as hard as I thought it would be, given the elevation (total gain 1,500 feet).

You want to see the elevation chart, you say? But of course!

And that's all I've got time for! Let's do this again sometime, huh?