How fast can you run 400m uphill in Austria at the "Red Bull 400" ? Looks like 5min would get you the overall win, and 6:30 would win women's.

results (can't tell what year): http://www.redbull.si/cs/Satellite/sl_SI/Red-Bull-400---Results/001243251512614

video (highlight/advertising style, unfortunately): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z94NVESBto0

The League cleaned up today. Between me, Perry, and Joe, we accumulated ... a 2OA lighthouse plaque, a $100 check, an M40-49 1st place age group plaque, a Flying Pirate Award (an amusing commendation for the1st non-open-placing CBRC participant), and an M20-29 1st place age group plaque.

Are results posted?

That's right.

i had to move fast to do so --- too fast for the Pho-jog-rapher.

Last year I launched a zealous crusade to break 60:00 at the Lower Potomac River 10-Miler, and to have failed at that task would've been a devastating disappointment for me. There was never any real need to worry, however, for I trained more thoroughly for that event than any I had before, and thanks to my 59:28 finish I even had time to spare. It was such a relieving, definitive feeling of victory --- and yet here I was one year later (felt like one month later!), now tasked with putting that 59:28 to shame at the LPR10 2012. Naturally, this gave me an unusually high feeling of anxious pressure going into the race.

I'd long since determined that it would not be adequate to merely break 59:00 this time; no, I had to go sub-58:00 (<5:49/mi pace) to prove that 59:28 (5:57/mi pace) is far from representing my top 10-mile race potential. Plus I wanted to demonstrate that I could be competitive with the guys who finished in the 57s last year (namely John Piggott and John Urban). So it was take 90 seconds off my 2011 LPR10 time or bust. But then I fell short when executing my annual September 5-mile time trial on the Three Notch Trail, running it in 28:17 when the mission had been to break 28:00. I had a strong hunch that I needed to take at least 45 seconds off my 2011 September 5-mile time trial, which I ran in 28:55, if I wanted to improve by 90 seconds in the 10-miler. Yet since my actual time trial improvement was merely 38 seconds, the indication seemed to be that I'd be lucky to take much more than a minute off my 59:28 10-mile PR. That is, 58:15-58:30 was my likely finishing range --- and 57:59 might only occur in a perfect race scenario.

Apart from my time goal, my competitive focus was diminished in the days leading up to the race. My initial intel from Liza was that, among the top four runners from last year, only John Piggott was known to be returning --- and a day after he would be running in the Baltimore Running Festival, no less (thus he was not likely to be in top form for the LPR10). Therefore I dared to dream of "Pinching Piney Point" and winning a race I was never meant to win. For though the LPR10 has always had fewer than 100 finishers since its event debut in 2008 (I may very well be the only person who's run in all 5 editions), it's always boasted a small contingent of semi-elite regional competition (like Steven Crane, who set the course record of 52:30 back in 2009, or Michael Wardian, who came close to matching that record last year). Alas, it was just one week before the race that I learned about Brandon Demers blazing the opening 10 miles of the Annapolis Striders Metric Marathon in 58:20 before going on to finish that 16.2-mile race at an average pace just over 6:00/mi --- and that he was "probably" running LRP10 (then, at packet pickup by the lighthouse on race day eve, I got confirmation that he was in fact signed up to run). Piggott might be beatable in his post-marathon condition, yes, but against Demers I knew I'd be outmatched (I really just hoped that, in the event of a surprise appearance from Dickson Mercer or John Urban, finishers #2 and #4 last year, I could beat at least one or two of them and make it into "the money" --- i.e., a top 3, "podium" finish).

Thus, right before the start of this 2012 Lower Potomac River 10-Miler, when Liza trumpeted praise to the gathered crowd on behalf Piggott and myself --- he for being a perennial placer at LPR events and me for being a favored local stalwart --- I knew that a towering tall, unheralded runner standing to my right was the one Liza should be declaring a favorite to win. It was Demers, indeed, and while he did actually run the race last year, he was dealing with an ankle injury then, and therefore ran "merely" 1:03:18. This time there was every indication that he was going to smoke the course and likely leave all competition behind. Yet I was defiantly determined that, though his victory might be inevitable, I would not allow him to beat me by such a hilariously wide margin as he did at the 2011 Leonardtown Hospice 10k (when he won the race in 34:26 and I came in as a VERY distant runnerup in 37:22). Hopefully by no more than a minute this time.

The race commenced quietly, and soon I was far enough ahead of the stampede that I could scarcely hear any following footfalls over the whistle of the wind (which was quite chilly). Yes, I blasted out brazenly and, just like at Chaptico, I found myself in a lonely lead almost immediately. Except this time there was a duo of cyclists right ahead of me: Jim Swift, the official lead cyclist, and 2012 Chaptico Classic 10k female champion Katie Ogden, who was riding along to support her beau Brandon over the opening Lighthouse Rd segment of the course. They seemed to be going awfully slow, though, and I think I could've easily surged and passed them both (meanwhile, whenever Katie looked back, she seemed diconcerted that Brandon was not leading the race). Or maybe it had something to do with me running too fast, because I beeped off my initial mile in 5:20! My 5:18 opening from the Young Life 5k last May is the only mile I've ever run faster in a race. And, believe it or not, that 5:20 hadn't felt reckless. Rather it felt exciting and necessary for getting a head start on my grand sub-58:00 10-mile goal.

That awkward portion of the course where we turn left onto Rt. 249 and then U-turn shortly thereafter to head for the island gave me a full view of how things were really unfolding. Demers was actually only trailing me by a handful of seconds, obviously biding his time. Then came Piggott more than a few steps further back, then the dueling duo of Perry and Tom Burke came into view as they turned onto Rt. 249, and then I believe Joe and German were turning out of Lighthouse Rd just as I was passing by that junction again (meaning I was almost a quarter-mile ahead of them at that early point of the race). I'll admit I hoped that they were all impressed by the sight of me still leading the race, though the most discerning among them must've known that it was not meant to last. Demers, practically drafting off me now, was clearly going for a more evenly paced race --- and my lead was doomed the moment I stopped averaging sub-5:40/mi. But I did delay the inevitable a bit by surging to reach mile 2 under 11:00 (10:59, or a 5:39 2nd mile).

Just when I was starting to believe that I might set foot on St. George's Island first, Demers finally hustled up past me as we began ascending the bridge. This was anticipated, but I was surprised when, amidst a peripheral look back, I couldn't pinpoint Piggott. "It's just us up here," I remarked, knowing full well that it would soon be just him, up there. I then offered a hasty explanation that, while he must be going for an even pace, I'd gone out hard to get ahead of pace (thus I was trying to make it sound like it was all part of my plan to start restraining my pace after 2 brazen blast off miles). He then commended me for the spirit of my start, saying, "What a way to get the race going" before promptly pulling ahead as we descended the bridge onto the island. Within moments he'd extended his lead to 20 seconds and counting. And with Piggott not even registering on my rear radar anymore, I was certain then that I would be running all but alone for the race's remainder.

Though it involved me losing my fleeting lead, I was still feeling fluid and fairly free of fatigue in mile 3, which I reached ahead of what my time had been at mile 3 of that recent Three Notch Trail 5-mile time trial (16:44 vs. 16:52 ... so a definite sub-17:30 5k to start this 10-miler off). Mile 4, however, was perhaps the most dismal mile of the race. I ran it in 5:51 when I'd hoped to keep every split sub-5:50 (at least until after mile 6), Demers was now an orange speck on the horizon ahead (i.e., that was the color of his jersey), and, worst of all, I was getting bad shoulder and neck cramps. Already! On second thought, the worst factor was that, as I drew nearer and nearer to the end of the island (beeping off mile 5 with the same split as mile 4 and 10 seconds past the finish time of my recent TNT 5-mile time trial), the headwind was getting brutal. It seemed almost impossible to run any faster than narrowly sub-6:00/mi when up against that breeze.

Yes, it was a tad demoralizing to pass the lead cyclist and Demers face to face when I still had a ways to the U-turn, considering I'd been right with them just 15 minutes prior. Then there was an odd scene at the U-turn: no volunteer stationed there to ensure that everyone went around the cone, though the cone couldn't actually be gone around since it was up against a fence. I suppose it was part of the honor code that everyone would run to the very end of the road before turning back. Following the U-turn it was made clear that I had solidly left Piggott behind. And then it was awhile before I greeted Tom and Perry, then Joe and German a short time later, and then more and more and more runners still marching to the U-turn I'd long since checked off. Lots of fine cheers and encouragement from them, with some even encouraging me to catch up to Brandon, who was now about a minute ahead of me but seemingly not gaining much further ground anymore (this indicates that, though he'd run the past couple miles significantly faster than I had, at this point our paces must've been roughly similar). Anyway, after the U-turn I felt a sudden resurgence in ambition. Plus that harsh headwind had turned into a tailwind, so what better time to pick the pace back up.

The wind was treacherous, however, and before I knew it I somehow found myself working into a headwind again despite the change of direction. Meanwhile my goal was starting to seem desperate. Now, most running coaches would be aghast at my race strategy for intentionally positive splits, but it's worked for me the past couple years at LPR10. As for breaking 58:00, common wisdom would probably advise running the opening 5 miles right around 29:00 and then trying to go narrowly 29:00 in the latter half. Yet my unconventional plan was to steal a few handfuls of seconds by going excessively fast for the first couple miles so that I could make it to mile 5 in under 28:30 (which I essentially did) and thereby have a comparatively generous 29:30 with which to finish the race. Even with the extra strong opening half, though, things were bound to get extremely tight on the way back when it was a struggle to not go over 5:50/mi (all 10 miles were safely sub-6:00, fortunately). The increasingly crucial check points went like this: make it to mile 6 under 34:15 so that I'd be able to reach mile 7 no more than a few seconds over 40:00 so that I could get back across the bridge and hit 8 sub-46:00 so that I could make it to mile 9 under 52:00 with time to spare --- because, considering that the course always measures close to 10.1 miles by the Forerunner, approximately 25 to 30 seconds gets tacked on to my final mile split. So let's say I were to hit mile 9 in 51:58. That means I could run the final mile in 6:01 and still break 58:00, right? No! Even if I were to run a 5:50 mile after hypothetically hitting mile 9 in 51:58, I'd still likely end up finishing over 58:10 due to that "extra bit". Thus it was utterly imperative that I actually reach mile 9 with well over 6:00 to spare for the final, "stretched" mile.

So, I finally got back under 5:50 for mile 6 and hit that mark in 34:14 (my mile 6 time from the Crofton Kiwanis 10k exactly!), which was pushing it but keeping me in the fight nonetheless (if it had been 34:39, my mile 6 time at Chaptico, I would've been done for); then I tried so hard to make it to mile 7 by 40:00 but fell 5 seconds short (fatigue was now a real factor); and then after straining a bit going up the bridge I exploited the artificial downhill of coming off the bridge back onto the mainland and narrowly hit the mark via 45:56 for mile 8 (miles 7 and 8 splits were both 5:50). I have a terrible certainty that my <58:00 goal would've been a lost cause if I'd been just a few seconds over 46:00 at mile 8 --- because I felt badly beat during mile 9. It was indeed time to drop the hammer and drop it hard, but exhaustion was setting in and I ended up running my slowest mile split of the race, 5:52. That was good enough to get me to mile 9 in 51:49 (just 6:10 to spare!), yes, but if I were to assume that the "extra bit" would take 30 seconds, that meant I needed to hit "Forerunner 10 miles" by 57:30, which meant that my final full mile split couldn't be over 5:40. Daunting, but not impossible.

As frankly fatigued as I'd become, I was still confident that, under these monumental circumstances, I could whip out a <5:40 final mile and make the grade. My 10th mile in the LPR10 last year matched my 2nd mile in that same race, after all. The LPR10 '11, however, was free from the weather factor that was confronting me at the end of this race. That is, the headwind whilst running back down Lighthouse Rd had achieved a ferocious intensity. Here I was trying to push out a desperate, make-or-break-the-goal fast finish and yet I found myself working against a veritable wall of wind. I couldn't seem to go any faster than narrowly sub-6:00/mi against such resistance. It wasn't treating Demers any kinder, though, for I could still see him up ahead during most of the final Lighthouse Rd segment --- along which Katie Ogden reappeared on her bike, riding alongside Brandon to encourage him amidst his final steps to victory.

When the time on my watch hit 57:00 (a second after Demers' finish, I later learned), the parking lot by the museum/visitors center hadn't even come into view yet. Rather I still had to make that sharp left curve in the road --- and oh no! there was a trio of pedestrians walking abreast and taking up half the left lane. With no time for dealing with such nonsense, I snapped, "On you left!" This startled them and prompted them to ... all move to the left, making me have to veer right around them anyway. Finally the lighthouse museum/park scene reared into view, and then all that was left was a right curve before the concluding straightaway. And when the big digital race clock was at long last in sight, still looking so very far ahead, it was ticking perilously close to 57:50. I knew I wasn't going to make it, and that the curse of Chaptico --- when I thought narrowly sub-36:00 was a certainty yet I ended up with 36:10 --- would endure, for 58:05 was about the best I could hope for.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I had something going for me. All through the race I'd stayed smart with the tangents (especially in the final curves of Lighthouse Rd), and that made the crucial difference. For while my Forerunner gave me 10.1 miles for the race last year, this year the final distance recording was 10.08 miles. Yet even nixing two 100ths of a mile was not enough to save my goal, and when it came down to the utter end, only an epic finishing kick could deliver me to success. Huzzah! I ripped through that final 0.08-mile bit at 4:28/mi pace, clearing in 21 seconds what I feared might take me 30. The only way it could've possibly been more dramatic would be if I'd done a baseball slide across the finish line --- but I was "safe" nonetheless, for when I hit Stop and plodded to a halt in the chute, what should I behold on my display but ... 57:57! I've always wanted a race result in which the amount of minutes and seconds are the same number.

Lower Potomac River 10-Mile Run personal progression:
*2008 ... 1:10:16
*2009 ... 1:06:09 (4:07 1-yr prgrssn)
*2010 ... 1:02:41 (3:28 1-yr prgrssn, 7:35 2-yr prgrssn)
*2011 ... 59:28 (3:13 1-yr prgrssn, 6:41 2-yr prgrssn, 10:48 3-yr prgrssn)

*2012 ... 57:57 (0:91 1-yr prgrssn, 4:44 2-yr prgrssn, 8:12 3-yr prgrssn, 12:19 4-yr prgrssn)

Lower Potomac River 10 Miler

14 October 2012

This had been a goal for me. Among other distinctions, it would mark my first time running the LPR10, would be the first 10 miler I've raced since high school, and would be a stepping stone on the way to a fall marathon. Several things caused my goal to devolve into what I hoped would simply be a well needed training run.

-Sheer laziness and lack of motivation

-An overlong recovery period after Chaptico

-The beginnings of a foot injury two weeks before the race

-Cold symptoms a week before the race

I'm not yet sure I'm free of any of this inhibitors.

I showed up race day believing breaking a 7:00 pace would be awesome. Really I just wanted to break an 8:00 pace. I noticed on the registration form that it asked for an expected finishing time and so I put 1:10 simply because Liza would find it BS for me if she ever saw I put 1:20 down. Time was not my aim, however. I resolved to run this race at a steady pace that would push my aerobic ability without exceeding it. I was primarily intending to run as well as I could without causing my breathing to damage my throat or sinuses. Breaking 1:10 was not worth adding another week or two to my cold symptoms.

I nuzzled up to DR on the starting line to give him encouragement before the race. I mostly stood behind him. I thought the distance intimidated me. Turns out it intimidated others a lot more. Piggott, Raley, and Demers were the only ones really approaching the starting line with any zeal. One or two others straggled up, but for the most part the starting line and several feet behind were empty. Because of this I moved alongside DR for the opening command. Since I was there I didn't think it appropriate to start at a terribly slow pace. I took off at a sub-7 pace and without any real consternation just went with it. DR shot out. The rest of us went out a little more conservatively. I believe Perry and Tom passed me before the first turn. This was expected though. I spent much of the race reminding myself that had I trained properly I'd be with them in their pack.

At the turnaround on Route 249, which is the first real place to make an assessment of runner placement, I believe I was essentially in 7th place. DR, Demers, Piggott, Rapp, and Burke all belonged in front of me. I couldn't identify some other guy in front of me. A couple of other guys weren't far behind me. What surprised me most was probably how close Paul Serra was behind me.

I ran the first mile in 6:30. I didn't expect to continue at that pace. I started slightly harder than necessary with the help of adrenaline and now there wasn't much need to risk imploding by maintaining that. Heading towards mile 2 I was still fairly content to keep this strategy. Two things happened to change my mind a bit. German Jessica Alba Lopez (yes, DR, I even thought this during the race when I saw him) passed me somewhere around 2 miles into the race. He and I have both beaten each other in the past. He paces well. Due to this I consider him a person who runs a smart race. I did not like the idea that he was about to make me look foolish by just calmly passing me after my too-fast start. I said something encouraging to him as he passed like, "Way to go" or "Keep it up." I didn't get a response. Too cool to respond? Lame. Oh, that's not it all. He was wearing headphones. Funny considering Liza's speech at the start of the race vehemently against wearing them. It was official. I didn't like the idea of him beating me. He gapped me anyway. It was too early in the race for me to consider covering his move.

I watched him slowly pull away. Around mile 3 I became aware of a guy tailing me. I could hear his breathing and his footsteps. He seemed to get closer and closer until he no longer gained ground, but neither lost ground. This went on for a solid mile. You could say he was doing everything he could to stay in the race with me. Or you could say he was drafting me. I kept my focus, though, and he and I passed the other guy who had been in front of us from early on. This guy ran with me for like a solid 2 miles on my heels. It annoyed me some, but I eventually calmed myself by listening to his breathing, which was not as collected as mine. I assured myself I was better than this guy and would soon prove it, so I didn't get worked up about it. I began to gap him as we approached the turnaround.

I made a distinct mental note of surprise that the turnaround was using the honor system. The only person in front of me I watched turn around was German. He annoyed me a little. We had been running on the left side of the road the entire time. Approaching the turnaround he veered right, then turned left to make his loop so that he was now coming directly at the rest of the runners. Pay attention, man.

After turning around I felt as though the wind was at my tail. Without using terribly much effort I increased my pace and at this moment I was clearly locked into a long term move on German. I caught him probably 400 meters later and passed him. An oncoming runner yelled something mostly incomprehensible, but I clearly heard in a female voice a perfectly pronounced "... Joe Dowgiallo!" I would have to figure this out after the race. Turns out it was a good old friend of my brother who ran her first 10 miler and did surprisingly well.

After passing German I was pretty much going for it. I wasn't going to run recklessly, but I was zoned in to a strong final half of the race. I suspected I was pulling away from German and the others quite well, but I didn't look back. I ran very well on the return trip. The last couple miles of the island, so about miles 6-8 felt almost wind-aided and I relished every moment of my forward drive during those miles. After the bridge I began to encounter some wind. I looked back only when making the turn off Route 249. I couldn't see anyone. I was still set on blazing a pretty good finish.

Except the wind was quite real then. I kept my effort at the same level and let it slow my slightly. I tried to keep swift and light steps underfoot. I knew it was slowing me and it annoyed me, but was only fair considering the pleasant miles from 6-8. I was close enough to the finish to battle it well, but I suspect I ran miles 6-8 faster than miles 9-10.

Overall I was pleased with how my race unfolded. I broke 1:10 without getting a sore throat. Running felt great. it was the best I had felt all week. For once my body enabled me to do something, unlike my sick days where it held me back.

Here's a brief excerpt from my 2008 LPR10 report to illustrate how far we've all come:

Shortly thereafter I made the end-of-the-island U-turn --- and beheld Perry hot on my trail! He really had been reserving his energy. He hustled up to me, announced his desire to speed up, and then shot forward at a pace that must've been sub-6:30/mi. Within moments he was about 100 yards ahead! I was still pleased, though, with my 10k split that was just under 43:45. Now, I had a very specific goal for this race: break 1:12:47. I'm not sure why I was so determined to beat that particular time; I suppose I just wanted the reassurance that I'm still capable of defeating someone who recently might have run that exact time. Hah, Adubb, it was really as though you were there running with me in spirit --- for the challenge of conquering your worthy time was my main motivation. If you hadn't run that race a couple weeks ago, I probably would've been content with a 1:15:00 performance. Thanks for upping the ante! As such, I hit mile 7.5 in a little over 52:00, meaning that I could run the remaining 2.5 miles at a leisurely 8:00/mi pace and still match Aaron's record. So a new, terrifyingly ambitious goal occurred to me: break 1:10:00! I really thought I had a shot at it, but alas I was facing a bankruptcy of energy by the time I hit mile nine (somewhere around 1:03:45, I imagine ... yes, I was scoring PRs left and right for every distance over 10k). Approaching one of the final turns of the course, back on Lighthouse Rd, I was most disheartened to see Vic running towards me --- well into his post-race cool down! By my reckoning, he was probably one of 10 people who'd already finished. Anyways, I found a bit of a kick in the final 200, passing a hairy brute (who I'd been gradually catching up to for the past eight miles). Then I finally brought it home in 1:10:16 --- a DR-PR (which wasn't hard since it was my first 10-miler) that indicates an overall average pace between 7:01 and 7:02/mi. And yes, this was the first race in which Perry was already there waiting by the finish, ready to cheer me in (he had over two minutes on me!).

Putting previous years' times to shame --- despite each being a massive PR at the time of its setting --- has been a recurring theme at the LPR10. Yet it's become quite clear, alas, that the returns are distinctly diminshing now that I've been going sub-60:00. That is, whereas I improved by over 3 minutes from 2010 to 2011, the 2011 to 2012 improvement was just over a minute and a half. I can't imagine improving by much more than a minute from 2012 to 2013, even if I did train just as fervently.

Oops, looks like I inadvertently ratted Katie out to Liza:

To: allsop316@hotmail.com
Date: Tue, 16 Oct 2012 12:00:40 -0400
Subject: Re: LPR10 comments for paper
From: shortbrownperson@juno.com

So Brandon had a Sherpa-ette. I have to say something next time about unauthorized cyclists accompanying runners.  It's one thing if there are random cyclists on the course who are just out riding, but we don't need extra bike traffic in the form of Sherpas.  Katie should've just volunteered as a cycle marshal.

Perhaps I should've warned Katie (who was not wearing a helmet) about the bloody fate of Nikolas Korbelak's bicycle-riding girlfriend in the 2011 Crofton Kiwanis 10k (Joe knows what I'm referring to).