Okay, now I don't feel so bad

The results from Saturday's Spearfish Canyon Half Marathon have been posted. My time of 1:35:20 was good enough for 29th out of 225 runners. I'm still not thrilled with how I felt after crossing the finish line; however, ending up close to the top 10 percent in a race I hated is definitely a silver lining.

I went for a run along my usual Dump Road route yesterday afternoon. I don't know what got into me, but I was back at the property in record time. Maybe some lingering race frustration?

Read all about it

Sandy and I visited Tribal Council last week to present the Tribe with a certificate of appreciation for their support of our mission at Habitat. Specifically, the President's office wrote a letter of support for a grant I had funded.

I drafted a press release and sent it into the Todd County Tribune. They included it and a photo in this week's edition (article here). They've been great about publishing anything I've sent over, as I try to spread the good word about Habitat.

All downhill from here

I registered for yesterday's Spearfish Canyon Half Marathon awhile back, intrigued by the all-downhill course. I figured my ultimate hour-and-a-half goal would be feasible on a course without uphills, with high canyon walls to block out the sun, and entirely on asphalt, a fast surface.

The goal was surprisingly within reach both physically and mentally through the first five miles. I ran seven-minute miles through the first three. That was encouraging because that's my usual pace on a flat course. I figured I wasn't giving 100 percent yet and had plenty left in the tank for the remaining 10 miles.

Then, supposedly, I ran a 5:45 fourth mile. I'm thinking instead the course was mismarked, because 5:45 is really fast for me, even on a track. Another mile later, I was still running around a cumulative 6:50 pace, about what's needed to finish in 1:30.

But my legs began to get sore at about that time, which is too early for that to be happening. Typically when I get tired, I notice more of an up-and-down component to my form, which is a waste of energy. This time, however, my stride had shortened. I tried stretching it out a bit, but found it difficult. Just like it was abnormal for soreness to be creeping in so soon, it was out of the ordinary for me to be trying to mentally override what my body was telling me.

I do a good job during both my races and everyday runs here at home of remaining aware of what my body is experiencing. I have never run with music because I find the sounds of my feet hitting the ground and my breath to be soothing. Plus, it makes it easier to quickly become aware of, diagnose, and rectify issues with my form and whatnot.

As it turned out, the problem was the course's impact on my form. I am typically up on my toes when I run. It's not something I do by design; it's just always been comfortable. And I've talked about the braces I wore on my feet and calves for some time during junior high to "fix" my toe-walking affliction.

Running downhill, however, makes it very hard to stay up on my toes. The tendency is to go heel to toe, heel to toe. Which is fine, except when I have to do it for 13.1 miles. And that was yesterday's problem. I tried in vain multiple times to revert back to my toes. Whether it was the blister I could feel forming on my left foot or the overall discomfort of forcing a style that was not conducive to the situation, it didn't work. My 1:30 goal quickly faded, as did breaking my personal best time of 1:32:14 from Brookings.

More folks than usual passed me during the latter stages of the race, which I hated. But it makes sense since I had a certain pace in mind, which I was only able to maintain for less than half the run. I finished in 1:35:20, good enough for 28th out of 150 to 200 runners. (The official results haven't been posted yet, and I didn't stick around long enough for everyone to cross the finish.)

Don't get me wrong, it's still a good time. The course was the exact opposite of what works best for my body. The race started at close to 5,000 feet in elevation. Plus, it was pretty dry. But I know I'm making excuses because I'm disappointed and I feel as though I've regressed. And what's worse is that my race sadness allowed some negative thoughts to creep into my head about some personal stuff going on. (Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Just things I don't want and shouldn't have to deal with.) So, a full-fledged pity party had broken out.

But it's situations like this that are conducive to learning a lesson or two (or three, in this case). First, I will never run this or any other all-downhill race ever again. It's not as fun as it seems. Second, I have a month and a half to ramp-up my training for the Sioux Falls Half Marathon. I know that course fairly well from runs I've done while on the town's circumferential bike path. (Circumferential - what a great word!) My goal is doable. And third, I need to be training at elevation. This won't be rectified right away considering my VISTA and grad school plans. But it needs to happen.

I guess there's a fourth lesson in here too. At some point, my half marathon times are going to plateau. I mean, I can't keep setting a new PR with each race I complete, which was the case up until yesterday morning. It's best I deal with these feelings now as opposed to the day, long into the future hopefully, when my body can't perform to my standards.

Emotionally, the race is in the past. In the grand scheme of things, it was just a race, after all. My quads are tight today, but some stretching will cure that. And I'm looking to the future. I know from my softball experience I'm able to turn frustration and anger into results on the field. Hopefully, I can do the same in Sioux Falls on September 13th.

P.S. I'm not usually so concerned with my race times. I judge my performance mostly on how I feel afterward. But I consider the half marathon "my distance." And it's the only one in which I have not only set a specific goal, but a lofty one at that.

Updates and looking ahead

It has been a busy summer for sure, both at work and with life in general. I look at the calendar and can hardly believe it's July 20th already. Tomorrow marks eight months into my VISTA stint. I'm still thankful I'm extending my time here. I couldn't imagine leaving in November.

Last week's activities provide a good representation of what a typical week nowadays looks like for me:

• Monday: Special Chamber of Commerce meeting that was a complete waste of time; tornado warning that night
• Tuesday: All day in Rapid at a (free!) conference put on by the South Dakota Community Foundation
• Wednesday: Opening (finally!) of the new Tribal grocery store, Turtle Creek Crossing; City Council meeting
• Thursday: Homeowner education class
• Friday: Frustrating conference call; more relaxed after a good, sweaty run
  

This week is no different: Tribal Council tomorrow, RC&D meeting in Winner Thursday, Habitat South Dakota Board meeting and strategic planning session in Chamberlain Friday, half marathon in Spearfish Saturday morning, Sun Dance this weekend.

High school cross country begins in August, and I've already promised to help out with the team. (Didn't track just end?) And after Spearfish, I'm only registered for one more race, a half marathon in Sioux Falls in mid-September. I'm still shooting for sub-1:30.

As far as Habitat goes, we're halfway through a 10-week stretch of visiting volunteer groups helping out on the job site. This week, we have a group of high school students from suburban Minneapolis. I got a good vibe from them when they arrived last night. I may have even recruited a running partner or two for the week.

Tomorrow was supposed to be the last night in the softball regular season. However, with last Monday's storms, we have to make-up a couple games. Even though some of my teammates have pissed me off at times and I have felt as though I should have played better some nights, it has been a fun time. I would like to avoid any additional injuries the rest of the way.

Speaking of my softball mishaps... I'm going to have a scar just beneath my left eyebrow for at least some time. It's definitely noticeable, but not disfiguring. And the scrape on my right knee would have healed faster if I hadn't kept picking at the scab. But then that would have been no fun.

When good animals take out the power grid

A bull snake caused a power outage in parts of Pierre Wednesday night when it made its way into the equipment at a substation. (Story here.) It reminded me of the time in Juneau when an eagle dropped a deer head into a power line, taking out the power to a good portion of town. (Story here.)

Unfortunately, the snake did not survive the incident.

Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full

I traveled to Colorado over the 4th of July weekend, stopping in Fort Collins and Denver to see friends from Juneau. (Us ex-Juneauites are everywhere!) Prior to leaving Denver on Sunday to head back home, I stopped at the Costco in Arvada for a necessity:

There are no Costcos in South Dakota (although there is a rumor of one opening soon in Sioux Falls). So, until now, I've been surviving off of expensive one-pound bags of sub-par almonds found in the baking aisle at the grocery store. Quelle horreur!

Nine pounds of almonds should last for some time, assuming the mice don't get into them. But it's never too early to start thinking about replenishing the supply. Maybe Omaha next time?