The Missoula Half Marathon - The Trial That Was

Preparation
The past couple months had turned out to be pretty hectic with the end of the service year approaching. Unlike training for Snake River and CdA, miles were interrupted by travel and festive occasions. I felt that I was still able to maintain my current fitness level more or less, despite a drop in overall mileage and a more liberal diet. Prior to running Missoula, I had no intentions of setting a PR, yet still harbored the possibility somewhere in my subconscious.

Race Course
That possibility stuck like glue all the way to the starting line in Montana. Rising early for the 6am start, I had little time to rest the previous evening, especially with a rowdy bunch who's revelry extended far to long into the early hours of race morning. Despite this, the scenery, crisp air and cool temperatures provided near perfect race conditions, and many were whispering about the fast and flat nature of the course. So, jacked up after hearing the National Anthem sung while gazing over a mountainous horizon as the sun rose, I felt incredible when the cannon (really, a real cannon) blasted and the race was on. With fireworks blasting off behind the start, I forgot all about the "moderate" race that I had planned to run and the fact that my recent preparation for the event was par at best.


The First Miles
My mind was pretty blank at the start, not really focused. I was a tad overwhelmed by the landscape and the "epicness" of the whole event - so much so that forgot to start my watch at the starting line. Anyways, the pack of racers despersed across the road,  scattering at pace along the dimly lit road surrounded by forest and field. I could not help but take in all that was around me for the first few miles. The road winded past national forest, covered by a natural canopy of foliage from the adjacent timber. The course dove down by a river for a bit and over a nice steel framed bridge. I was on cruise control for the first half of the race, feeling extremely good at around 6:20 per mile. I was set to crush my previous PR and at that point I had no doubt in my mind that I would. Honestly, I was a bit surprised but was more than happy to be running strong.


Crash
Sunday was definitely a PR day for many of the participants in the Missoula Half and Full Marathon, including a friend of mine who knocked two minutes off her previous HM finishing time. The course begged a great opportunity to do so myself, and I thought I would. Flatter than a pancake, with a few slight downhills and plenty of shade, the course was tip top for a fast day. As I rounded corner after corner, these stretches of pavement were welcoming. Coming into mile 9, with no signs of significant fatigue, I crashed completely. At the time I seemed to be hyperventilating - my breathing became labored and I was extremely lightheaded. I attempted to push through, thinking that it would wear off. Rather, it got worse and to my great dismay I had to stop on the side of the road. For a few seconds I bent over in an attempt to catch my breath. I told myself that I needed to continue and started to jog, slowly picking up the pace. My mind and legs wanted to go, but my internal systems were rebelling. The rest of the race was an agonizing crawl, an entire 60+ seconds added to my pace. I was passed by multiple runners as I tried to find fuel in the tank to finish strong. I was completely drained and could not even surge down the last stretch towards the finish line. I was relieved to be done, utterly exhausted both physically and mentally. A friend took a picture of me down that last 200m of the course - the look on my face is of pure pain and disappointment. Despite having to stop and slow down, I crossed at 1:29:53, not bad considering the circumstances. I was presented a medal by a little girl, which immediately put a smile on my face. 

Post-Race
In the minutes that passed after the race, I was reeling about how sudden my crash was on the course. I knew I had gone out pretty quick, and had lost track of my pace, but did make an effort to slow down when I felt I was pushing it. I guess I was shocked at how drastic the race turned, how great the start was but how horrible the finish turned out. My first conclusion was that I did not run a smart race whatsoever and that I had paid dearly for it in the end. It was a battle that I had struggled through, and learned a whole lot from.

Takeaway

The Missoula HM came at a unique time in my life. Being in the throws of a desire to improve my running form, while also wanting to enjoy the last weeks out here in the Northwest is a tough plate to balance. I think my biggest mistake was letting go of the rationale that the plan was to run a moderate race and enjoy it all, without going for glory in a PR. I knew that a fast race wasn't realistic; however, the course and my peers led me to believe that in the moment it was totally possible. The reality caught up to me and I was knocked about.

I did enjoy this HM, but for reasons other than my personal performance. I think this experience revolved around that of the other. My friend's astonishing PR was an amazing accomplishment for her - I got to experience her finish and share in an embrace that meant a good deal for the both of us. Enjoying the event with friends from all around was great too. The hospitality that Missoula showed to all racers was phenomenal and I would definitely consider returning for the marathon in future years. It was an all around fantastic experience, despite my personal turmoil during the latter half of the race. I am now going to make the focus of my training on pacing, for I see it as a true art, something that requires practice, technique, time and experience. I have decided to do a marathon come the Spring, and am excited for a new endeavor.

A Year Over Two Wheels

Before coming to Spokane to start my service year in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, I made the decision to commit to commuting to work by bicycle for as many days as Mother Nature would allow. There were a bunch of mountain bikes stored in our garage upon our arrival, many of which needed TLC. For the first couple weeks I rode a 90s Schwinn mountain bike, cruising to and from the House of Charity. I had further aspirations of learning how to ride a fixed gear bike, something I observed many in Boston doing and took a liking to it.

My search began. I needed to find a two wheeled whip that I was content with and that was easy on the pocket of a recent college grad and aspiring volunteer. As mentioned before, a dude set my up with the '73 fixed gear Motobecane that now totes my around Spokane's city streets [and sidewalks, unfortunately]. Aside from the few icy/snowy days in winter and the times where it just needed a rest in the garage, the Motobecane has traveled well over 500 miles to work and back. In what seems to be an endless marathon of commuting, I've come close to a few bumpers and have met the pavement a couple times under black ice. Through it all, I've come to respect the simple machine that is the bicycle and have learned its parts and functions. I have been humbled by its maintainence, attuned to its many noises and needs. Grease under my fingernails, dirt on my back, and countless soaked sets of clothing keep my coming back to spin again and again.

The 3.73 roundtrip commute to work is more complicated than I initially perceived. As the roads change due to climate and construction, I can never take for granted the path well trodden. One moment I can be riding without thinking of where I'm going, the next I have to reconsider my path because half of the street is dug up. Most days my commute is active - I am always aware of my surroundings, always considering my outfit for the weather, always expecting the route to change for whatever reason. This activity prepares me for the day, allows me to come down to earth, or up to earth, depending on what time it is. I wake up to sun on my face, audio to get a solid head-nod going, and the movement of my legs to get the blood flowing. In the evening, the cycle home is calming as darkness surrounds and silence pervades. I am able to refocus in the rhythm of the pedal stroke,  something that fixies guarantee.

Before coming to the Northwest I rode a Specialized roady. I knew little to nothing about how to maintain it, relying on local bike shops and mechanics to change flats, investigate noises and give tune-ups. I look forward to putting in long miles when I return at the end of this summer, but I'll come home with a deeper appreciation of the machine and knowledge to tend to it properly. I think every cyclist should get to know their bike more - time spent with the bike while off the bike is more valuable than I'd imagined. A deeper relationship is formed, a symbiosis if you will. You become more wise and most likely a better cyclist, a master of your machine.

The subtleties of the bike commute are what make it one of the best parts of my day. I become a full observer of the people and landscapes I pass, moving along but exposed to all that is around. I am not shut up behind the windshield of a car. This allows me to interact with my surroundings, engaging my senses. I can stop to watch the sun set on the big sky, veer of my usual route to check out new sights and sounds, often times just to exercise my curiousity. I can simply lock up downtown, with no parking spot to find and no meter to pay. I have freedom to roam, freedom to crush the pedals in a cinematic sprint, or take it easy and cruise. For the urban dweller, I really see no reason why not to be a fellow of two wheel transit.

My service term is almost to a close and I have realized this - I have not covered more miles in my life, by foot or by bike, than I have this year. By calculating the number of hours I have worked, subtracting days of inclement weather, bike repair and time away from Spokane, I estimate that I've covered roughly 900 miles in this year of bike commuting. I never really thought about it - just a simple 3.73 miles a day, sometimes more depending on the circumstances. But when it all adds up, it's quite something. The Motobecane has held up very well, and still rolls on. If you haven't considered it yet, do now. You'll get fitter and happier riding a bike, whether you're toting around town/campus, going on joy rides or cycling to work. It'll be one of the best things you'll ever do.