Struggle Toward the Heights
Thoughts on the runner's life, by Chris Lundstrom
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Brian's Canyon Recap from last year...
Heading to the Grand Canyon tomorrow to run with Brian and Vajin. I just re-read Brian's post from last year and am now even more excited (and mildly terrified...) for the run. Check out his post if you're interested:
http://lifeslikerunning.blogspot.com/2011/05/grand-canyon-post-2-rim-to-rim-to-rim.html
We have a much smaller group, which is probably a good thing, as we can just stick together and enjoy the journey. Anyway, I'll post some photos when I get back. Hopefully my legs are recovered from the 50 miler. I guess I'll find out!
http://lifeslikerunning.blogspot.com/2011/05/grand-canyon-post-2-rim-to-rim-to-rim.html
We have a much smaller group, which is probably a good thing, as we can just stick together and enjoy the journey. Anyway, I'll post some photos when I get back. Hopefully my legs are recovered from the 50 miler. I guess I'll find out!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
American River 50
AR 50 Results are HERE.
With aid stations splits HERE.
Here's the report on last weekend's American River 50 mile. Julie Fingar and the folks at NorCalUltras have a reputation for putting on excellent, well-organized events, and AR50 definitely lived up to that reputation. Also thanks to my bro Mike for some very smooth and efficient passes through the aid station. I'm happy to say I'm a finisher of this classic American ultra. There were definitely some moments of doubt...
It was a great 32 mile run, followed by a really rough few miles, and then a slow, steady grind --punctuated by moments of despair -- over the last 10 miles. Whether it's racing a mile, a 5k, a marathon, or a 50 mile, the sport of distance running has seemingly infinite ways of humbling you. The switch from running strong to wondering if you will make it to the finish can happen so fast. In a 50 miler, it can happen repeatedly over the course of the run.
I went out at what I guess is considered a fairly quick pace, clicking off lots of 6:15 to 6:20 miles on the bike path sections, which comprise much of the first 27 miles of the race. I hit the marathon mark in 2:48. It felt easy, and I was confident that my legs and energy would be spared for the trail section of the run. I had dealt with a nasty 24-hour flu the previous weekend, but it seemed that I had no lingering effects from that.
Fortunately, I was able to run most of this section with eventual winner Vajin Armstrong, from New Zealand. We had a really nice time out there, talking and passing the time comfortably. He was not carrying fluids, while I was, so he would spend more time in aid stations but then pretty quickly catch back up. Even though this section was not on the trail, it wound along the American River and was fairly scenic and enjoyable.
When we went onto the trails, we continued together for a while, before he slowly pulled away. I still felt good, and could see him up ahead for quite a while. After I lost sight of him, I made one fairly serious error. I was fiddling with my watch and zoning out a little bit. When I looked up, I suddenly thought that I might have missed a turn. I kept going for a while, and still didn't see any course markings. I thought of the advice someone gave me once..."if you think you might have gone off course, you probably did." I was running up a steady hill, and thought I should cut my losses and retrace my steps.
When I did get back to a trail marking, I didn't see a turn, so I turned back in the direction I had already and paid careful attention. There were in fact a couple of small trails off to the side, but no markings, so I kept going. Sure enough, maybe 20 meters after my turnaround spot, there were a whole series of flags. The whole thing cost me maybe 4-5 minutes, which was not ultimately going to make or break my race. This mis-step was merely a harbinger of things to come. It's likely that my loss of focus was part of the process of fatigue that was beginning to overtake me.
Happily, I didn't panic, but kept going steadily. The course turned fairly choppy sometime in the mid-30s, and perhaps this contributed to my stomach turning sour. I had been fueling and hydrating very vigilantly (in hindsight, perhaps too aggressively), and it became clear that my stomach was no longer absorbing anything. The nausea was probably the worst and most debilitating aspect of the run. I had serious doubts about whether I would be able to finish. In the aid station around 35 miles, I tried drinking some Coke, as I thought something different might help. About 30 seconds later, I muttered under my breath, "that was a mistake."
Around 38 miles, I finally threw up, violently and repeatedly. Of course, I felt better immediately, but despite that, Rich Hanna flew by me like I was standing still. He paused enough to ask if I was okay, and if I needed anything...I took this as a sign that I probably wasn't looking too good! Jacob Rydman came by a little later, and I actually was able to keep him in sight for quite a while. He told me there was another guy a minute or so back, and I mustered some focus to try to move more quickly during the stretches when I was able.
Over the last 12 miles, I took in very little fluids and about half of a gel. While I knew this was breaking every rule, I felt that I could gut through the fatigue and dehydration, but that another bout of nausea would probably be the end of me. I literally talked myself through parts of the run. Every time I started to dwell on how tired I was or how hard it was, I told myself (at first just in my own head, but eventually out loud...), "of course it's hard; it's 50 miles."
Energy-wise, I actually felt pretty decent until the final three mile climb. At that point I really noticed how trashed my legs were and the dehydration became apparent. Fortunately, the climb is only steep at a few points, and the rest of the way was tolerable. There was no one in sight either ahead or behind me (though it turns out Ellie Greenwood was charging up pretty fast en route to a win by an hour in the women's race!). At that point I felt good about knowing that the finish was at the top, and that I could see that...the goal was within reach. There were no heroics of trying to finish hard. My goal became simply not to quit and to finish with my faculties intact.
Ultimately, while I could point to stomach issues, the recent illness, or my little stretch of re-tracing my own steps, my difficulty with the second half of the race most likely boils down to two factors:
1) Lack of specificity in training. I was very well trained for a road 50k, and totally unprepared for the trails. While the trail portion of the course is not nearly as technical or rugged as a lot of trails, it presents its own challenges. The hard-packed California dirt and the undulations allow for pretty fast running, which accentuates the pounding. That's something I learned running the North Face 50, and had to re-learn last weekend. Likewise, I didn't run longer than 27 miles in training, and the two runs I did of that distance were on the road, so I barely ran over 3 hours, or roughly half the time I would spend out there in the race. Yeah, that probably was a mistake...
2) A failure to practice nutrition and hydration. The body learns to absorb and process fluids and energy on the run. I tend to have a sensitive stomach, but when I was doing more ultras a couple of years ago, I got a lot better at that aspect through training, and also more in tune with what I need to take in.
I remain baffled by the 50 mile distance. I suspect my training would need major revamping for me to run to what I ought to be able to do...with longer trail efforts and more thorough recovery between the long runs and/or hard efforts. I'm a creature of habit, and I do tend to try cramming too much into my training, in too short of a time.
Speaking of which...in two weeks I'll be running the Grand Canyon with my friend Brian. Turns out Vajin will be there that weekend as well, so hopefully we'll be able to connect for at least some running. How cool is it that two guys in the lead of a 50 mile race in California, one from Minnesota and one from New Zealand, both have plans to run the Grand Canyon on the very same weekend? Gotta love this weird little world of ultra-running.
With aid stations splits HERE.
Here's the report on last weekend's American River 50 mile. Julie Fingar and the folks at NorCalUltras have a reputation for putting on excellent, well-organized events, and AR50 definitely lived up to that reputation. Also thanks to my bro Mike for some very smooth and efficient passes through the aid station. I'm happy to say I'm a finisher of this classic American ultra. There were definitely some moments of doubt...
It was a great 32 mile run, followed by a really rough few miles, and then a slow, steady grind --punctuated by moments of despair -- over the last 10 miles. Whether it's racing a mile, a 5k, a marathon, or a 50 mile, the sport of distance running has seemingly infinite ways of humbling you. The switch from running strong to wondering if you will make it to the finish can happen so fast. In a 50 miler, it can happen repeatedly over the course of the run.
I went out at what I guess is considered a fairly quick pace, clicking off lots of 6:15 to 6:20 miles on the bike path sections, which comprise much of the first 27 miles of the race. I hit the marathon mark in 2:48. It felt easy, and I was confident that my legs and energy would be spared for the trail section of the run. I had dealt with a nasty 24-hour flu the previous weekend, but it seemed that I had no lingering effects from that.
Fortunately, I was able to run most of this section with eventual winner Vajin Armstrong, from New Zealand. We had a really nice time out there, talking and passing the time comfortably. He was not carrying fluids, while I was, so he would spend more time in aid stations but then pretty quickly catch back up. Even though this section was not on the trail, it wound along the American River and was fairly scenic and enjoyable.
When we went onto the trails, we continued together for a while, before he slowly pulled away. I still felt good, and could see him up ahead for quite a while. After I lost sight of him, I made one fairly serious error. I was fiddling with my watch and zoning out a little bit. When I looked up, I suddenly thought that I might have missed a turn. I kept going for a while, and still didn't see any course markings. I thought of the advice someone gave me once..."if you think you might have gone off course, you probably did." I was running up a steady hill, and thought I should cut my losses and retrace my steps.
When I did get back to a trail marking, I didn't see a turn, so I turned back in the direction I had already and paid careful attention. There were in fact a couple of small trails off to the side, but no markings, so I kept going. Sure enough, maybe 20 meters after my turnaround spot, there were a whole series of flags. The whole thing cost me maybe 4-5 minutes, which was not ultimately going to make or break my race. This mis-step was merely a harbinger of things to come. It's likely that my loss of focus was part of the process of fatigue that was beginning to overtake me.
Happily, I didn't panic, but kept going steadily. The course turned fairly choppy sometime in the mid-30s, and perhaps this contributed to my stomach turning sour. I had been fueling and hydrating very vigilantly (in hindsight, perhaps too aggressively), and it became clear that my stomach was no longer absorbing anything. The nausea was probably the worst and most debilitating aspect of the run. I had serious doubts about whether I would be able to finish. In the aid station around 35 miles, I tried drinking some Coke, as I thought something different might help. About 30 seconds later, I muttered under my breath, "that was a mistake."
Around 38 miles, I finally threw up, violently and repeatedly. Of course, I felt better immediately, but despite that, Rich Hanna flew by me like I was standing still. He paused enough to ask if I was okay, and if I needed anything...I took this as a sign that I probably wasn't looking too good! Jacob Rydman came by a little later, and I actually was able to keep him in sight for quite a while. He told me there was another guy a minute or so back, and I mustered some focus to try to move more quickly during the stretches when I was able.
Over the last 12 miles, I took in very little fluids and about half of a gel. While I knew this was breaking every rule, I felt that I could gut through the fatigue and dehydration, but that another bout of nausea would probably be the end of me. I literally talked myself through parts of the run. Every time I started to dwell on how tired I was or how hard it was, I told myself (at first just in my own head, but eventually out loud...), "of course it's hard; it's 50 miles."
Energy-wise, I actually felt pretty decent until the final three mile climb. At that point I really noticed how trashed my legs were and the dehydration became apparent. Fortunately, the climb is only steep at a few points, and the rest of the way was tolerable. There was no one in sight either ahead or behind me (though it turns out Ellie Greenwood was charging up pretty fast en route to a win by an hour in the women's race!). At that point I felt good about knowing that the finish was at the top, and that I could see that...the goal was within reach. There were no heroics of trying to finish hard. My goal became simply not to quit and to finish with my faculties intact.
Ultimately, while I could point to stomach issues, the recent illness, or my little stretch of re-tracing my own steps, my difficulty with the second half of the race most likely boils down to two factors:
1) Lack of specificity in training. I was very well trained for a road 50k, and totally unprepared for the trails. While the trail portion of the course is not nearly as technical or rugged as a lot of trails, it presents its own challenges. The hard-packed California dirt and the undulations allow for pretty fast running, which accentuates the pounding. That's something I learned running the North Face 50, and had to re-learn last weekend. Likewise, I didn't run longer than 27 miles in training, and the two runs I did of that distance were on the road, so I barely ran over 3 hours, or roughly half the time I would spend out there in the race. Yeah, that probably was a mistake...
2) A failure to practice nutrition and hydration. The body learns to absorb and process fluids and energy on the run. I tend to have a sensitive stomach, but when I was doing more ultras a couple of years ago, I got a lot better at that aspect through training, and also more in tune with what I need to take in.
I remain baffled by the 50 mile distance. I suspect my training would need major revamping for me to run to what I ought to be able to do...with longer trail efforts and more thorough recovery between the long runs and/or hard efforts. I'm a creature of habit, and I do tend to try cramming too much into my training, in too short of a time.
Speaking of which...in two weeks I'll be running the Grand Canyon with my friend Brian. Turns out Vajin will be there that weekend as well, so hopefully we'll be able to connect for at least some running. How cool is it that two guys in the lead of a 50 mile race in California, one from Minnesota and one from New Zealand, both have plans to run the Grand Canyon on the very same weekend? Gotta love this weird little world of ultra-running.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Human Race 8k, and Final Preparations
Who would have ever expected it? Schedule a race on St. Patty's Day weekend in Minnesota and you will likely run into some cold temps, possibly some snow or at least residual ice on the course.
Not this year. Temps were pushing 80 degrees and runners faced warm, blustery winds out of the south. A lot of people said the heat affected them, but I actually didn't find that at all. I have done a few treadmill and indoor workouts, so it actually didn't feel too warm to me. I ran about exactly the time I expected to run (24:57), but placed better than I anticipated. I was second by 30 seconds to Chris Erichson. He beat me by a minute and a half last fall in a 10k, so I guess I can't feel too bad about that gap, although I know that he probably hasn't done any speed work, etc., and I think he probably put 15 seconds of that on me in the first mile and another 15 in the last mile!
I had a really solid month and a half of training of sustained high mileage, culminating in the 8k, which marked more or less the beginning of my taper for the American River 50 mile. Long runs have gone okay -- nothing spectacular. I did a couple of 20 milers with 15 or so between 5:30 and 6:00 pace. I didn't press too hard on these, but I still felt acutely aware that I was running harder than I would be able to sustain for 50 miles.
I also did a couple back to back long run days, including a 20 followed by a 27.5. I did the 27 with PR on a snowy, windy morning. I went down hard a couple of times after hitting ice patches covered by a thin layer of snow. Not really by design, I did the whole thing without so much as a sip of fluids. Patrick continued on for another 3 miles after leaving me. The run went by incredibly fast...I didn't even look at my Garmin until we were already 17 miles in, and I was convinced that it had to be off. So...I guess that one was a good sign. Hopefully the first marathon will go by as fast, and I'll feel as good at the end.
I did one other run in the 27-28 mile range, but haven't done anything longer. That was not really by design, but more due to lack of time and/or other priorities. The couple of runs I have set out to go a little longer, I found in the first few miles that I was still sore from another run or workout, so I didn't push my luck and cut those runs off a little earlier than planned.
In my previous three 50 milers, there has been an inverse relationship between my perceived level of preparedness to cover the distance and how good I actually have felt on the day of the run. In other words, I felt worse the more long (3.5 to 4 hour) runs I had done. Maybe the very long training runs have left me a little beat up on race day, or maybe it has just been strange luck. Maybe running longer than 3.5 or 4 hours in training is over-rated. If you're not an ultra-runner and you're reading this, you probably just said, "Uh, you think? Duh!"
I have another 10 days until the race, and the goal now is just to get rested and feeling really smooth. Oh, and I should probably come up with some kind of a game plan...though that may be over-rated as well!
Not this year. Temps were pushing 80 degrees and runners faced warm, blustery winds out of the south. A lot of people said the heat affected them, but I actually didn't find that at all. I have done a few treadmill and indoor workouts, so it actually didn't feel too warm to me. I ran about exactly the time I expected to run (24:57), but placed better than I anticipated. I was second by 30 seconds to Chris Erichson. He beat me by a minute and a half last fall in a 10k, so I guess I can't feel too bad about that gap, although I know that he probably hasn't done any speed work, etc., and I think he probably put 15 seconds of that on me in the first mile and another 15 in the last mile!
I had a really solid month and a half of training of sustained high mileage, culminating in the 8k, which marked more or less the beginning of my taper for the American River 50 mile. Long runs have gone okay -- nothing spectacular. I did a couple of 20 milers with 15 or so between 5:30 and 6:00 pace. I didn't press too hard on these, but I still felt acutely aware that I was running harder than I would be able to sustain for 50 miles.
I also did a couple back to back long run days, including a 20 followed by a 27.5. I did the 27 with PR on a snowy, windy morning. I went down hard a couple of times after hitting ice patches covered by a thin layer of snow. Not really by design, I did the whole thing without so much as a sip of fluids. Patrick continued on for another 3 miles after leaving me. The run went by incredibly fast...I didn't even look at my Garmin until we were already 17 miles in, and I was convinced that it had to be off. So...I guess that one was a good sign. Hopefully the first marathon will go by as fast, and I'll feel as good at the end.
I did one other run in the 27-28 mile range, but haven't done anything longer. That was not really by design, but more due to lack of time and/or other priorities. The couple of runs I have set out to go a little longer, I found in the first few miles that I was still sore from another run or workout, so I didn't push my luck and cut those runs off a little earlier than planned.
In my previous three 50 milers, there has been an inverse relationship between my perceived level of preparedness to cover the distance and how good I actually have felt on the day of the run. In other words, I felt worse the more long (3.5 to 4 hour) runs I had done. Maybe the very long training runs have left me a little beat up on race day, or maybe it has just been strange luck. Maybe running longer than 3.5 or 4 hours in training is over-rated. If you're not an ultra-runner and you're reading this, you probably just said, "Uh, you think? Duh!"
I have another 10 days until the race, and the goal now is just to get rested and feeling really smooth. Oh, and I should probably come up with some kind of a game plan...though that may be over-rated as well!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Lacing Up
What are you training for?
Many endurance athletes have a love/hate relationship with this question. "My sanity" or "my health" are common responses given by reticent runners...Do I have to be training for something? Can't I just run?
In my case, apparently not. At a certain point, most of us want to put ourselves to the test and enter a race. The goal may be just to finish, or it may be to run a certain time or finish in a certain place. In some extreme events, the goal is to survive. We may be training for our well-being, but having that secondary motivation of an upcoming race or races gives structure and purpose to the routine. Jogging 5 miles a day, while good for you, can get boring pretty fast. Variety and challenge...that's what life is all about!
This is just a long-winded way of saying that I have a few races planned for the spring:
St. Patrick's Day Human Race 8k, March 18
American River 50 mile, April 7
Superior Trail 50k, May 19
Should be fun! I've been running quite a bit, and have done a few workouts the last couple of weeks as well. I'm giving the "back-to-back" long run days a try, on an every other weekend basis. Having never done this before, I have no idea how it's going to go.
Two weekends ago, I did 18 on trails on Friday and then 17 on Sat. on the roads. I felt good on Saturday, but then was pretty tired for a couple days. Last weekend I did one long run of 22 miles with 15 at 6:00 pace, and that felt a lot harder than it should have. However, I had a good session of mile repeats with short rest at 5:00 pace on Tuesday, so that was encouraging.
This weekend I'll go back to FRI/SAT longer, easier runs. I'm not sure exactly how far I'll go, but I'm thinking I ought to build up to a weekend where I get in 50 on the two days, given that I'm going to be racing that far. So far the only thing I've learned in my previous 50 milers is that I have no idea what I'm doing. American River is about half on a paved bike path and half on trails, so I'm trying to keep a mix of terrain in my training. Currently, Minneapolis is covered in about 6 inches of slush, so that's the only option right now.
The way this winter has gone, it'll be clear again within a few days, and we'll be running in shorts before you know it.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Now what?
Everyone deals with the aftermath of a big race differently. My typical approach has been focus on the next goal at hand before the soreness from the race has even started to subside.
I'm rolling along a little differently this time around, and have been taking it a day at a time, running as much as I feel like on any given day. My running has been more social than usual recently, as I have been meeting up with someone different almost every day. That makes for great variety, and has helped me get back in the groove without thinking much about it.
That said, it's already apparent, just three weeks after the Trials, that I need more than just easy running. Whether that's racing or something else, I need to find activities that challenge me physically, and engage my mind and emotions. I'd go nuts without it. We joke about running as an addiction (a mostly positive one), but seriously, I thought a 40 minute run should give me my fix. Apparently not. A few miles is better than nothing, but it still leaves me antsy and a little bit ill at ease.
So...where to go from here? I do feel that I have really explored the marathon thoroughly, and I don't have much enthusiasm for doing another one. At some point I probably will. But for now, I'm looking for enjoyable running experiences.
Part of the enjoyment of running, for me, comes from pushing myself hard and finding ways of dealing with difficulty and adversity. It's an odd juxtaposition. I feel like I'm in danger of becoming one of those guys who shows up to races and says "I'm just doing this for fun," and then proceeds to drag himself around the course like a maniac. I'll try to keep my mouth shut before races, and just do what I can out there...no excuses!
So I'm still going to compete, hopefully just as hard as ever. It might not be as much of a priority as it once was, but I hope that for many years to come I can still stand on the starting line feeling as alive and excited to run as I was at age 16 or age 25. And I hope I can continue to find some fulfillment in doing the best I can on race day.
Things I'm excited about...the USATF MN Team Circuit (go TC Running Co.!), running some trails, and lots of long runs with good people...
I'm rolling along a little differently this time around, and have been taking it a day at a time, running as much as I feel like on any given day. My running has been more social than usual recently, as I have been meeting up with someone different almost every day. That makes for great variety, and has helped me get back in the groove without thinking much about it.
That said, it's already apparent, just three weeks after the Trials, that I need more than just easy running. Whether that's racing or something else, I need to find activities that challenge me physically, and engage my mind and emotions. I'd go nuts without it. We joke about running as an addiction (a mostly positive one), but seriously, I thought a 40 minute run should give me my fix. Apparently not. A few miles is better than nothing, but it still leaves me antsy and a little bit ill at ease.
So...where to go from here? I do feel that I have really explored the marathon thoroughly, and I don't have much enthusiasm for doing another one. At some point I probably will. But for now, I'm looking for enjoyable running experiences.
Part of the enjoyment of running, for me, comes from pushing myself hard and finding ways of dealing with difficulty and adversity. It's an odd juxtaposition. I feel like I'm in danger of becoming one of those guys who shows up to races and says "I'm just doing this for fun," and then proceeds to drag himself around the course like a maniac. I'll try to keep my mouth shut before races, and just do what I can out there...no excuses!
So I'm still going to compete, hopefully just as hard as ever. It might not be as much of a priority as it once was, but I hope that for many years to come I can still stand on the starting line feeling as alive and excited to run as I was at age 16 or age 25. And I hope I can continue to find some fulfillment in doing the best I can on race day.
Things I'm excited about...the USATF MN Team Circuit (go TC Running Co.!), running some trails, and lots of long runs with good people...
Monday, January 23, 2012
OT Marathon Qualification Standards
I've been thinking about writing about the difference in the men's and women's fields and overall races at the Olympic Trials last weekend. Fortunately, David Monti did some good work on summarizing the numbers already...
http://www.letsrun.com/2012/wmtrials-0118.php
Having been around the national class marathoning scene now for over 10 years, I have seen US marathoning grow and improve in quality and depth. Others agree...
http://downthebackstretch.blogspot.com/2012/01/american-marathoning-has-really.html
The elimination of the men's "B" standard (you can compete, but you don't get funding for travel/accommodations) and the lowering of the "A" standard to 2:19:00 was controversial at the time. The women still have a "B" standard, and those two different procedures make the standards seem, well, arbitrary. The implementation of a half marathon and 10k standard (which were used for the previous trials as well) were also controversial. With this Trials on the books, it's a good time to do some objective evaluation of what effect the changes and different mens/womens standards may have had. How did they effect the fields? How did they impact the race itself? What effect may they have on US marathoning in general?
Looking at the women's field vs. the men's, you can can see some differences. The biggest difference is obviously the larger field for the women's race, which made all of the records for field depth possible. The men's race, from a depth perspective, looks a lot deeper at the front, though it is difficult to compare given the more challenging course in New York, and the different racing dynamics that resulted. This Trials had 21 men under 2:15 (vs. 7 in NY) and 50 under 2:20 (vs. 39 in NY).
At the front, both the men's and women's races in Houston, were impressively faster than previous trials. Again, it's difficult to say how much of this is related to the difference in courses vs. the difference in qualifying times vs. the difference in the overall quality of runners. For the women, that difference and improvement in depth carried down through the entirety of the field. For the men, the effect diminishes and disappears deeper into the field.
The women's finishing percentage was 81.7%, while the men's was 76.5%. A much greater percentage of the men's field got in on the standards of the shorter distances (about 33%, I believe). I don't know how many of the DNFs were due to injury, illness, etc. and how many may have been conscious decisions by those shorter distance specialists to save the legs for another day. Which brings me back to the original questions...what effect have these changes in qualifying standards had?
On the impact of eliminating the B standard for the men...
At the front of the race, I don't think the different standards have had any impact at all. Meb, Hall, Abdi, and Ritz were the contenders. They're all seasoned marathoners. They don't care if there are 111 guys in the race, or 211 or 30,000. They separate themselves and do what they need to do in whatever circumstances they face. Same thing with the top women.
As for the rest of us...Fewer men than women participated, and fewer of those who qualified actually finished. The slowest finishing times were the same from NY to Houston, but fewer men were out there getting the experience and giving it a shot. Even as a 3rd time Trials participant, I really experienced the boost in intensity and focus that comes with preparing for the Trials. I think that the more young, developing talents we can get preparing for the Trials, the more we will see improvements in depth and quality of American marathoning.
There's obviously a cap that needs to be placed, and it will always be somewhat arbitrary, but I think USATF ought to consider it a priority to get greater numbers of athletes involved at the national level. As one agent told me once...you get 500 guys who can run 2:20, and maybe 50 of them can eventually get down to 2:15. Of those 50 guys, maybe 1 can get down to 2:09.
In other words, you need numbers and you need to keep people motivated and involved. Having watched, over the last 15 years, literally thousands of collegiate runners who were all better than me either run for a year or two after college, or not at all, I think I can safely say that we have had a lot of great talent slip through the cracks. Some of that can't be changed. If you aren't motivated to compete anymore, no incentive will bring that back. But for the large majority who would like to compete but feel they can't justify it given the need to "get a real job", having a shot to run the Trials may be just the hook that they need.
On the implementation of the half marathon and 10 standards....
I was skeptical of these "other standards" when they were first used back in the last Trials. There was actually a 5k standard as well for those Trials. My opinion has shifted. Looking at the number of athletes who qualified on the half marathon standard and then ran very strong times at the Trials, I think it is obvious that the use of the half marathon standard is having the desired effect of encouraging younger athletes to give the marathon a shot without forcing them to fully commit to it and therefore compromising their track and other racing goals.
The 10k standard, in my opinion, needs to go the way of the 5k standard. It's not necessary, and I don't think it's expecting too much to ask an athlete to go and run a half in order to demonstrate a modest level of prowess at the longer distances. The marathon is over 4 times longer than the 10k -- it just doesn't make sense to use 10k times as a standard.
As a coach, I'm very interested to see what happens with the qualification standards for the next round of the Olympic Trials Marathon. The above are just my opinions, thoughts and observations...I'm curious to know what other people think.
http://www.letsrun.com/2012/wmtrials-0118.php
Having been around the national class marathoning scene now for over 10 years, I have seen US marathoning grow and improve in quality and depth. Others agree...
http://downthebackstretch.blogspot.com/2012/01/american-marathoning-has-really.html
The elimination of the men's "B" standard (you can compete, but you don't get funding for travel/accommodations) and the lowering of the "A" standard to 2:19:00 was controversial at the time. The women still have a "B" standard, and those two different procedures make the standards seem, well, arbitrary. The implementation of a half marathon and 10k standard (which were used for the previous trials as well) were also controversial. With this Trials on the books, it's a good time to do some objective evaluation of what effect the changes and different mens/womens standards may have had. How did they effect the fields? How did they impact the race itself? What effect may they have on US marathoning in general?
Looking at the women's field vs. the men's, you can can see some differences. The biggest difference is obviously the larger field for the women's race, which made all of the records for field depth possible. The men's race, from a depth perspective, looks a lot deeper at the front, though it is difficult to compare given the more challenging course in New York, and the different racing dynamics that resulted. This Trials had 21 men under 2:15 (vs. 7 in NY) and 50 under 2:20 (vs. 39 in NY).
At the front, both the men's and women's races in Houston, were impressively faster than previous trials. Again, it's difficult to say how much of this is related to the difference in courses vs. the difference in qualifying times vs. the difference in the overall quality of runners. For the women, that difference and improvement in depth carried down through the entirety of the field. For the men, the effect diminishes and disappears deeper into the field.
The women's finishing percentage was 81.7%, while the men's was 76.5%. A much greater percentage of the men's field got in on the standards of the shorter distances (about 33%, I believe). I don't know how many of the DNFs were due to injury, illness, etc. and how many may have been conscious decisions by those shorter distance specialists to save the legs for another day. Which brings me back to the original questions...what effect have these changes in qualifying standards had?
On the impact of eliminating the B standard for the men...
At the front of the race, I don't think the different standards have had any impact at all. Meb, Hall, Abdi, and Ritz were the contenders. They're all seasoned marathoners. They don't care if there are 111 guys in the race, or 211 or 30,000. They separate themselves and do what they need to do in whatever circumstances they face. Same thing with the top women.
As for the rest of us...Fewer men than women participated, and fewer of those who qualified actually finished. The slowest finishing times were the same from NY to Houston, but fewer men were out there getting the experience and giving it a shot. Even as a 3rd time Trials participant, I really experienced the boost in intensity and focus that comes with preparing for the Trials. I think that the more young, developing talents we can get preparing for the Trials, the more we will see improvements in depth and quality of American marathoning.
There's obviously a cap that needs to be placed, and it will always be somewhat arbitrary, but I think USATF ought to consider it a priority to get greater numbers of athletes involved at the national level. As one agent told me once...you get 500 guys who can run 2:20, and maybe 50 of them can eventually get down to 2:15. Of those 50 guys, maybe 1 can get down to 2:09.
In other words, you need numbers and you need to keep people motivated and involved. Having watched, over the last 15 years, literally thousands of collegiate runners who were all better than me either run for a year or two after college, or not at all, I think I can safely say that we have had a lot of great talent slip through the cracks. Some of that can't be changed. If you aren't motivated to compete anymore, no incentive will bring that back. But for the large majority who would like to compete but feel they can't justify it given the need to "get a real job", having a shot to run the Trials may be just the hook that they need.
On the implementation of the half marathon and 10 standards....
I was skeptical of these "other standards" when they were first used back in the last Trials. There was actually a 5k standard as well for those Trials. My opinion has shifted. Looking at the number of athletes who qualified on the half marathon standard and then ran very strong times at the Trials, I think it is obvious that the use of the half marathon standard is having the desired effect of encouraging younger athletes to give the marathon a shot without forcing them to fully commit to it and therefore compromising their track and other racing goals.
The 10k standard, in my opinion, needs to go the way of the 5k standard. It's not necessary, and I don't think it's expecting too much to ask an athlete to go and run a half in order to demonstrate a modest level of prowess at the longer distances. The marathon is over 4 times longer than the 10k -- it just doesn't make sense to use 10k times as a standard.
As a coach, I'm very interested to see what happens with the qualification standards for the next round of the Olympic Trials Marathon. The above are just my opinions, thoughts and observations...I'm curious to know what other people think.
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