Showing posts with label Training Runs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Training Runs. Show all posts

Sunday, July 9, 2023

US Nationals Day 3: I need coffee!

Day 1

Day 2


Ok, now it’s REALLY getting spicy!

But first: a 0515 wakeup call, because the 20km racewalk happens early. I must apologize to my neighbor for the prolonged alarm ringing; I kept unsuccessfully fumbling for the phone as it kept ringing, and the dorm room walls here are paper thin. 

The first mile of the race walk took all of 6:31. That’s insane…and demoralizing; i used to do 10 miles (RUNNING) at that pace!

After the race, I head back to the dorm for a 90 minute break. But where is my room key? It’s not in my pocket or at the track, it’s not in the dining hall where i had early breakfast, it’s not in the pocket of the other official who walked with me to the track. Someone must have picked it up. I go to campus services and leave my name; they said they might have to re-key the door and issue a new dining pass. 

Sigh. 

Wait….I ate breakfast with The Beast, didn’t I? I hunt him down at the track and ask…sure enough, he pulls two keys out of his pocket. Crisis averted! 

Lunch: more of their excellent fried chicken with mac and cheese. I need to stop doing this!


Knowing that we don’t have a chance at dinner until 8:30pm, I fill a coffee cup with carnitas, rice, and beans, and suck it down late afternoon between events…..I’m quite the resourceful lad sometimes. 

Men’s 200m heats…..World Champion (100m) Fred Kerley sits down in the final 50m and still runs a tight 20.43. Assuming he makes the final, he is going to unload…i bet he can go a full second faster. He was fun to watch at the world championships last summer. 

I happen to glance at the pole vault competition, and some guy snaps a pole as I’m watching. Yikes! He was okay, but another vaulter gathered up the remnants that are now best suited for kindling (assuming fiberglass burns well). 

Tee Tee Terry in the women’s 200m heats….she’s quite the firecracker, as was also proven in last summer’s amazing 4x100m relay against a lightning quick Jamaican team. 

Next to Tee Tee is high schooler Mia from Portland….Tee Tee explodes thru the turn, and Mia goes with her…all the way to the semifinals. Tomorrow’s final will be something to see. 

Hurdler Devon Allen is introduced as a two-time Olympian, multiple national champion…..I can’t resist leaning over to buddy Lloyd and saying “yes, and we threw his butt out on his home track during the World Championships!” I’m still disgusted from last year. 

Women’s 400m….Intermediate Hurdles Destructor Sydney is running sans barriers for a change. Interesting, since she has set 4 or 5 world records in the hurdles here. Before the race, I duck into the tunnel and send this first text. After the race, i send the second one. 


48.75, I called it well. She absolutely crushed this race. With a little more seasoning, she’ll take this world record, too. And if she doesn’t give me any credit for the call, I’m going to send my Somerville (NJ) Sharks 15 miles down Route 22 and take on her Dunellen Jets in a battle for supremacy. 

(I think her Jets might win, though). 

Two-time Olympic Gold Medalist Athing Mu runs the 1500 final; her normal distance is the 800m, and she covers that split 20 seconds slower than normal. This has to feel so easy for her, and she starts winding it up with 300m to go. It’s game over…

Except tiny perpetual podium misser outer Nikki Hiltz not only hangs on for dear life, but takes Mu to the cleaners in the stretch with a decisive sprint. Who saw THAT coming? Brilliant finish by a hungry runner. 

BYU kid in the men’s steeple absolutely chunks it over the backstretch barrier…we call that a Mondo Sandwich, as Mondo is the rubberized track material. The kid was clearly hungry, given the impact. He burps after his meal, wipes his face with his napkin, then devours the rest of the race with a solid win! Who does that? Buttery smooth Isaac Updike takes third with a monster last lap and jumps onto his first national team. 

Steepler Krissy Gear feeds 94-time national champion Emma Coburn a decisive loss, and this finish isn’t close, either. Wow, the young kids are really stepping up (and are not showing due respect to their elders). 

I duck into the off-limits part of the stadium for a bathroom break..I guess my charm and good looks help me gain access….i turn the corner and am confronted with a person I affectionately call The Ice Queen…

That moniker doesn’t describe her personality as much as her recent avocation. And she still holds a school record or two, several years later. 

I’ve said for years that Long Jump Champ Marquis Dendy has the best smile in the sport. After his big win today, he brings his adorable toddler to the victory stand, and she goes toe to toe in the smile department. 



I love track!







Saturday, July 8, 2023

US Nationals Day 2

Day 1

The day started off well. 

My awesome darling artist daughter (you know, the one I NEVER talk about) is now fully moved into my house for the summer. I gave her full run of my other two bedrooms….for the first week, that floorspace was a disaster; personal stuff, clothes, art supplies, big easel, etc….pretty much a trail of destruction akin to a Midwest tornado. 

I’ve been gone 3 days…She sent me this picture yesterday. 


Sigh. 

I mentioned the new dining hall…nice atmosphere. 

For my old friend Molly, with whom I provided many volunteer days…

There’s a first time for everything! This was two rows of fully isolated stalls with a common hand-washing station. 

My luxury berthing…


The memories…during the 2021 Trials (and COVID), we had to be tested every two days, so we’d go here for the fun and games. 

$15 for a branded lanyard? The swag tent was a little ridiculous.

This guy is also a little ridiculous…


Ms Brooks wins silver in the heptathlon…and gold for best hair!


Drug testing? Extra spectator seats? 

HS Junior Mia from the Portland suburbs squeezes into the 100m finals and runs well, albeit with a lousy start. If she figures that part out before next year, she’s on the Olympic Team.

Showboat Sha’Carri makes a spectacle (and an ass) out of herself by removing her wig at the starting line when all cameras are on her. I wish she’d put that energy into beating the Jamaicans. In the second half of the race, she wheels and deals her way to another title. Fortunately, I was able to leave the track before listening to her latest interview. 

Unknown Charlotte native Cravont pulls the upset of the meet by beating several Olympians for the men’s title. He showed some great power over the final yards….oh, and he didn’t have a sponsor, though i think that issue will soon be rectified. 

Prelims are done. The weekend will have much in the way of fireworks!

Stay tuned. 



Friday, July 7, 2023

US Nationals Day 1

Back to my happy place!

As that Subaru of mine is now 14 yrs old and it’s shuttling me around a full time job in Boulder, it was time to get a new car for Bend. 

Love me some brown saddle leather!

But what does this have to do with track? 

Well, I have to name the boy! Some considerations: Bernard (Lagat, ancient Olympian), Abdi (similar)…..i finally settled on….

Cyrus!

The ‘why’ is in this exerpt from the 2016 Olympic Trials…

Men's javelin: UO grad Cyrus Hostetler absolutely uncorks one, and the stick was flying for what seemed like hours. While it reached its apex well above the track, someone yelled out, "OH JESUS!!" It was that enormous a throw.

(that was me who yelled...sorry).

With one lap left in both semi-finals of the men's 5000, we had a condition known in the cycling world as 'gruppo compacto,' a tightly bunched pack. I smiled, because a pack at the bell means hellacious racing in the last lap. And that's what we had…

Maybe the most awesome thing out there: when the pack tore past the steeple pit with a lap to go, they were paced through the final turn by a flying Cyrus taking his victory lap while carrying the American flag up high, and yes, it was the Fourth of July! That was an incredible sight; a tall, bulky guy at full speed in lane 8 while the pack roared along on the inside. Cyrus rabbited the field for a good 100 yards before the marshals waved him off. 

(Months later, i actually sent Cyrus an email, and he sent me a few videos of the celebration: here and here and here….too funny!)

So, yes: my car is now named Cyrus. 


Bomb-ass UO runner Claudette from back in the day (and still a school record holder) asked me why i looked so serious….i tell her it’s because i can’t find any ice…..inside joke; last year at the World Championships, she was in charge of making sure all the support areas had plenty of frozen water). 

Walking to the track for the briefing, I’m behind heptathlete Anna Hall and her entourage. Within the next 5 years, she’ll have an Olympic medal in her kitchen drawer, and it’s going to be one of the more valuable ones. 


Dinner out in town; I send ZoĆ« pix, and she asks if that’s campus dining hall food….not even close!


Man, this track is purdy at night…and at other times, too. 



Meet and greet, where we get our marching orders….


Boss umpire (and all around good dude) Dougie-Dub

Not sure I’ll be confused as to which color shirt we’re wearing…

A pair of free kicks is always nice…

Lynn and Fred laying down the law

So good to see fashion mogul Doreen on the squad again! During a break in the competition last year, we had a dance party at the finish line.



For the first time since I’ve been in the biz, we’re dining in one of the new dorms. The food is a TREMENDOUS improvement over two weeks of dry lemon herb chicken!




This is the aforementioned new dining hall and dorm, very impressive. I had to look up Mr Unthank so i could thank him. 

I much prefer his layout and amenities to tired old Carson Hall…Unthank is air-conditioned, insulated, and relatively roomy….Carson (below) is none of the above. 




Decathlete Joe Delgado coached at my alma mater for a few years. Now he’s pushing loans in Florida, and probably breaking legs like former collector Rocky Balboa. Guy’s gotta fund his Olympic dream somehow, right? 

Long day on the track; a bunch of semi-final heats. Two finals, the men’s and women’s 10,000m. Both races were won with insane sprints….Elise Cranny absolutely explodes with 250m remaining and leaves the American record holder in her wake. Her family is right behind me in the stands losing their minds. 

In the men’s race, Grant Fisher is shot out of a rocket with 3 laps to go, running back to back 60’s (kids, don’t try that at home….well, i guess you can TRY, but it won’t go well). He’s about to take the yellow jersey, but Woody and his insane sprint have other ideas. He sees those 60’s and raises with a final 54, spanking Grant so hard that he falls off the podium completely. Ice cold…and fun to watch. 

More tomorrow. 


Saturday, September 10, 2016

"The Poster Boy for things I wish I brought"


About 7-8 years ago, I decided to try a hike up South Sister. 10,358 feet, a popular destination for the masses. So I gave it a shot, alone and with lousy sneakers.

It's a 12 mile round trip: 2 miles serious uphill thru the forest, then 2 miles on the flats, then the bastard 2 mile final push via exposed rock faces and tons of loose stuff that's a nightmare from a footing and thrust perspective.

That day, I got to the 4 mile mark, around the place where the path went dramatically up and onto solid rock. Then Dirty Harry whispered in my ear: "A man has got to know his limitations." No aerobic base for 15 years, suspect footing....Yes, I turned around and saved it for another day.

Which took 8 years to arrive. As in, today.

Couple buddies wanted to climb, with one major stipulation: leave town at 0400. As in, wake up at 0315. Ouch...I was hoping for a slightly later start, but I was hitching a ride with them, so I'm either in or out.

I'm in.

Oddly enough, the parking lot was already half full at 0445. Lots of folks with the same idea.

First two miles; amazingly dark and amazingly uphill. A big grind right out of the gate, with no time to warm up those sleepy muscles. Very peaceful...and then we started seeing sky thru the trees. But no other hikers yet.

Just as we broke out of the forest, we saw some lights way up on the final part of the climb. Some folks evidently got an earlier start than we did! Though I'm not sure I'd want to be on the rock faces before daybreak, with low lighting. Just sayin'.

Second two miles; across the fruited plain. Fairly flat, nice to settle into a rhythm.

Broken Top, as the colors change from night to day





Okay, now it's time to get real...the final push up the last two miles. Emphasis on the word 'up.'

Pete and Dan setting the tempo
Those two miles were just NASTY: murderous slope over loose rocks and 2,500' of climbing that took almost two hours. If you weren't judicious in your foot placement, you'd slide backward on every step.

I was judicious...every possible rock that looked like it had roots was a foothold for me. But it was still a grind.

The last mile included the worst of the scree, but with a nice red hue. And once the trail headed left, we knew we were close.

At this point, I was the last of three. Just keeping my own pace while maintaining contact. Pete went ahead a bit, then hollered, "40 feet."

I REFUSED to attempt any understanding, not wanting to create false expectations. One thing that helped along those lines was my refusal to repeatedly stare at my GPS watch in anticipation. We'll get there when we get there.

The 40 feet was the final steps to the glacier just below the summit.





Two options: walk across the snow and ice, or go around on the path with steep drop-offs. Note: the drop-offs can be minimized by staying toward the snow, so that's what we did. And we were also rewarded with a nice, flat pathway. That felt incredibly good at the tail end of over 3.5 hours of climbing.

Up here, we met the crew that we saw from way below in the early hours. They were finally coming down...there were also 2-3 guys who camped overnight at the glacier; what a great adventure that must have been. It helped that the overnight temperatures were in the low 40s, actually warmer than at the parking lot. Some industrious types had also built three rock enclosures to shield climbers from the wind, so i could absolutely see spending the night as a goal.

The trail around the glacier became spotty at times. By now, my watch chimed 6 miles, so I knew we were close.

One last outcropping, and then....

Middle and North Sister, at your service



Probably not more than three miles away. Amazing view!






South toward the glacier

Mt. Bachelor...that water in the distance (near the brown) is Sparks Lake, fairly close to our parking lot. It looks very, VERY far away. But it's all downhill...

Broken Top from above
We spent a leisurely half hour at the summit, with no one else interrupting our solitude (except some tiny chipmunks who wanted our lunch).

But alas, all good things must come to an end; it was time to head down. And truth be told, I was probably more nervous about the descent than the climb. It's this gravity thing that causes problems with hard craniums and bones in accelerated contact with rocks.

No worries; while my legs were pretty well shot by this time (running was out of the question), I adopted a downhill ski motion that kept me from shooting down the fall line. I did fall a couple of times, but right on my butt, with no damage.

By 10am, the weather was plenty warm. Not a problem if we're descending and not building body heat, but a HUGE problem for the masses now headed up.

Which brings me to the title of this post...after one person asked me about my gaiters, another asked about the walking poles, and someone else asked about my water pack, Pete laughed and dubbed me "The Poster Boy for things I wish I brought." We had good gear, light/warm layers, and plenty of fuel, but we saw many/MANY people in heavy jeans with a single water bottle or sometimes a massively oversized rucksack.

I'll say it again: I'm THRILLED that we started early. Cooler temps, no parking issues, and NO TRAFFIC on the trail going up. Since we were descending at twice the pace of the late climbers, they were more than happy to step aside and let us pass. Besides, most of them were gassed and ready for a break.

That butte immediately to the right of the water is on the left side of the trail, and it marks the final 2 miles down to the car. 
I can't remember what this was, but it's pretty high up: maybe looking west toward Eugene


Broken Top from below, and a little brighter than at 0600


Moraine Lake, halfway up: some people camp here, and then do the summit on the second day

That big bitch in the rear view: in the red rock on the upper left, you can see the trail heading up and away from the snow.
That last couple of miles down thru the forest were tough; our legs were giving out. But we made it down intact, and smiled at the sheer number of cars now parked along the road (the lot was now completely full).


Afterward? An epsom bath, and pizza incoming. 

This was a good day.