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New Year’s One Day 2018/2019

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On New Years Eve for the past few years, I’ve run a race in San Francisco called the New Year’s One Day. It’s a timed race, which means you run as many miles as you can in a set period of time. The course is a one-mile loop around Chrissy Field. You’d think it feels like running in a hamster wheel, but it’s actually a really fun course – you get to see the Golden Gate Bridge every ten minutes, and watching the light change over the course of the day is a gorgeous thing to behold.

The first two years I ran this, I tried for the 24-hour version, with varying degrees of success, stopping at just about 8 hours in 2015 and after 17 hours in 2016. Last year, I ran the 6-hour version came in 3rd, which was pretty neat!

This year, however, the race moved to January 5th, which sort of defeats the purpose of the activity – e.g., running it on New Year’s. So, instead, I went to Zurich and ran a marathon at midnight there.

But I just couldn’t stay away. I love this race. So I came back to SF and ran the 6-hour race on Jan 5th. And it was awesome.

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At the start line with Ingrid and Cyndi. You may be able to tell that it was cold.

Part of the motivation to run this year was that a couple of amazing ladies I know were also running. Ingrid, of Lake Cabot 50k Fame, had signed up for the 24-hour race, because she is a beast. Cyndi, who ran her first ultra at Burning Man, wanted to run her birthday miles, so she signed up for the 6-hour as well. So it was a pretty easy decision to join them both.

Last year, I came in 3rd at this race, with 34.1 miles run in 6 hours. This year, my goal was to run between 36-40 miles in six hours, which would put me somewhere between a 9-minute and 10-minute pace. Given that I’d just run a marathon four days earlier, I wasn’t sure how possible it would be, so I “recovered” and tapered hard for in the intervening period.  I did a three mile tempo run two days before the race, and nothing else – I felt well-rested when I got to the start line.

Start line

The forecast was for torrential downpour. I wasn’t too concerned since it would be a short-ish race and I’d be moving the whole time, so I planned to wear a short-sleeved shirt and shorts for the whole race. I showed up to the start line with an umbrella and warm jacket, though.

When I got to the start, it was drizzling slightly. My Pokemon umbrella was immediately put to good use. My drop-bag was well-waterproofed – and by that, I mean that I put some extra clothes in a plastic trash bag. I stashed it in the drop-bag area, under the designated tent-covered picnic table, and went in search of of Ingrid and Cyndi.

I immediately found Ingrid, who was bundled up like she was headed to Alaska, but had absolutely no other gear that I could see, despite prepping for a 24-hour run (she’s a real badass – did I mention that she accidentally won a 100-mile race last year?). Cyndi arrived a few minutes later, and the three of us all sat in Ingrid’s super warm car to catch up for a bit before the race started.

We headed over to the start line about five minutes before the start of the race, which was pretty luxurious. I stripped off my own Arctic gear and was immediately freezing. Our intrepid race director, Wendell, counted us down, then we took off.

Beginning

When I think I’m going to run a fast race, I like to speed up for the first minute or two in order to scope out the field and see who else is thinking about going fast. Because a lot of folks running this race would be on the course much longer than I would be, it was pretty easy to break from the crowd to accomplish this. About a quarter of the way through the first lap, I had a decent idea of what was going on. Specifically, a girl with super long hair was already way ahead of me. But she was pretty much the only one, I thought!

In order to measure how far we run, we wear these grey, Velcro-clad ankle bracelets with chips in them. The chips are triggered at a timing mat, which beeps every time we run across. The mat is set up at the beginning of the mile loop (or, mile-ish – this year, the course was 1.0275 miles long, I think, which is shorter than previous years). The mat-and-chip combo keeps track of the number of laps we do. The ankle bracelets are pretty unobtrusive and don’t chafe at all, although they do look a bit like the kind that ex-cons under house arrest wear.

Run Happy

I ran a few laps at a pretty good pace – about 9-minute miles. At the end of lap three, I realized I hadn’t heard the timing beep when I crossed the mat, so I spent the next mile planning to pay closer attention. At the end of mile four, I realized that the timer had definitely not beeped. So I stopped for a minute to validate that this was an issue. Wendell gave me another anklet, and I did another lap. For a few miles, I made sure to call out what lap I was on (“Starting lap six!”). By lap eight, it was all sorted out, and we were back in the game.

Around lap seven, I saw Ingrid, who was looking great and cruising.

Middle

Around mile 10 or 12, I found Cyndi. She has a super fast base pace – faster than me for sure. She likes to take breaks at aid stations though, so it often evens out. She was a lap or two behind me, but we fell into pace together for a solid eight or nine miles. It was awesome to get to chat with her and catch up on life. Alex, her boyfriend, who also ran Burning Man 50k, came to cheer us on for one lap – it was awesome to see him on the course. It started raining quite a bit during the stretch Cyndi and I ran together – we were drenched for a few laps!

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Alex pretending he’s running with us, but actually being an awesome cheerleader

Around mile 19 or 20, I was struggling a bit (but, on the plus side, had dried off from the rain). I ran another lap or two with Cyndi, then let her go ahead while I did a few laps of refueling. I popped my caffeine Gu and grabbed some PB&J sandwiches and those delicious peanut-butter filled pretzels at the aid station. I was hoping these calories would help, but I still had about two hours of running to go. I was not feeling super great about my prospects of hitting my 36-40 mile goals – I felt like I had started out too fast, and my hamstrings were really beat. However, I hadn’t brought a watch and there was no timer on the course, so I wasn’t totally sure how much time had elapsed.

Around this time, it really started raining again. I was completely soaked in about sixty seconds. It rained like this for probably 20-30 minutes. It was so unexpected – this downpour – that it was super energizing in ts absurdity. The rain provided a much-needed boost of energy and excitement for me, and I picked up the pace quite a bit. I’m also very excited to see the photos from this part of the race – I do not photograph well while running, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing how much my running form could be confused for that of a wet sea lion during these laps.

End

At some point, I asked someone how much time had elapsed. We were about four and a half hours into the race. I think I was about 27 or 28 miles into the race. Whatever it was, I knew that if I kept up around a ten minute pace, I could probably hit my 36-mile goal.

Running hard in a rare moment of sunshine

I was at a bit of a decision juncture. I wasn’t in a great headspace – I had a lot of negative thoughts in my mind during this stretch. Here’s what I was thinking:

  • I’m tired and my leg muscles hurt.
  • I didn’t taper for this race, so really didn’t have any right to think I could go fast.
  • I haven’t run a distance longer than a marathon since August, so my preparation for this race was … sub optimal.
  • I don’t know how far ahead that one girl from the beginning of the race was, or if there were any other women in front of me.
  • I feel bad for trying to use a podium-finish as a motivation – there’s a bit of a weird stigma against “racing” / running for competition in ultras, and I’ve never really gotten past that. I’m also not a super fast / competitive runner, so I always feel weird using that as motivation, since I don’t feel like I have a right to it because I’m not that fast.
  • I only have 90 minutes left of running, so I’m a slacker for even thinking about slacking, and I should just muscle through.
  • Speaking of muscles, I’m tired and my leg muscles hurt …

Someone once said that the definition of intelligence is being able to hold two contradicting ideas in your mind and still be able to function. When I think about all of the gifts that running has given to me, I think about this one the most. Running has given me a very powerful ability to be zen in the face of difficulty. I can hold two opposing ideas in my mind – the fact that this running is hard and I want to stop, and the fact that I really don’t want to stop because I want to be proud of my effort – and still function. Or, as I really learned at Mountains2Beach – this is hard, and I can do it.

So I kept running.

At some point, I asked for the time – we had about 50 minutes left. I’d just finished my 31st lap. I was feeling optimistic – I could run 12-minute miles and finish 4 more laps, which would get me to 35 laps, or about 36 miles. So I’d be right at the bottom of my range – a good enough finish! I could also run about 10-minute miles and get one more lap in.

So, I asked myself – what’s it gonna be?

I ran another lap, then had 40 minutes lap. I told myself if I finished my 35th lap with more than 9 minutes on the clock, I’d sprint it out for the last lap. So I ran another lap and had 30 minutes left. I found a guy with a feather in his baseball cap – Rickey – who was finish up, so I ran this lap with him. Then I ran another lap with Rickey and had 21 minutes left … I was running faster than a 10-minute pace! While Rickey got a quick beer, I ran another lap and had … 12 whole minutes left?! I ran my last lap and finished with a few minutes to spare.

36 laps … 37 miles! I was ecstatic. That’s about three more miles than I ran in the same time last year, which is a pretty great accomplishment.

Afterwards

Cyndi met me at the finish line – she had run her farthest distance ever, about 33 miles. Not bad at all for her 2nd ultra. I think she’s got the bug …

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We finished!

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Why did we do that!

I hung around for the awards ceremony, and was excited to learn that I’d come in 2nd! The girl ahead of me had only run one more lap than I had, which was a meaningful distance, but not as much distance as I’d thought based on her pace for the first few laps. I didn’t think I had another lap in me, so I didn’t have any regrets. 2nd place is not bad at all.

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Oh hey GG Bridge

Cyndi and I stayed for a few extra minutes to cheer Ingrid on for one more lap, then Cyndi and I went to get quesadillas at a Mexican place nearby. I went home and showered, then headed out – I was going to visit a friend and spend the night at their place.

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ingrid, who was still out there, running in the rain. I woke up a few times and almost got out of bed to go check up on her. It was a strange feeling – I think I just have developed an extreme appreciation for how hard those early hours of the morning are in this race – they are cold and lonely and exhausting, and I knew it was raining. When I woke up, after a quick coffee with my friend, I went back to the race to see the last hour of it. It turned out that she’d stopped around 77 miles (an insane distance) and headed home because the cold and wet was really unbearable. I’m pretty sure she still came in 3rd overall, which is an incredible accomplishment. It was not an easy day on that course.

All in all, this was yet another fun New Year’s One Day. I loved getting to see my girlfriends running, and I was proud of my own accomplishment as well.

I’ll post race photos when I have them. Look forward to the wet seal running pose …

 

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Adding the coaster to my collection!

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New Year’s One Day: Fresh Start Effect

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Not bad, GG bridge. You’re looking good today.

I’ve attempted the New Year One day a few times: once in 2015 and once in 2014. In this race, which takes place on December 31st, you run around in a circle for as many miles as you can in a certain period of time. The previous two times I’ve attempted it, I took on the 24-hour version. Turns out, I’m not great at running around in circles for 24 hours, because it is boring and it gets cold.

Me running this race a few years ago

These last few months have been fairly tumultuous from a personal perspective. I’ve gotten promoted, gotten married, gotten divorced, and finished an Ironman. So, as the new year came around, I was really looking forward to a fresh start. I wanted to do some running, but maybe not 24 hours of running. I signed up for the six hour version of this race about two days before the race.

This was some of the best running I’ve ever done, and not because of any particularly fast running that I did during the race. I was happy – super happy – for pretty much the entire race.

There are a few races that are great not because they are particularly hard or easy, but because you’re in a positive state of mind when running them. For six hours, during this race, I was the most content I’d been in a long time, for all the reasons that make running great. I was running for myself, propelled by myself, relying on the skills and capabilities I had built. I got to catch up with some old friends I’d met in previous races. I got to push myself just a little outside my comfort zone. I got to see some pretty scenery. And there was nothing that could stop me. It was me and this perfect little mile of 60% asphalt and 40% dirt, with iconic views of the Golden Gate Bridge every 10 minutes. I was paying homage to my city, my running, 2017, 2018, and my own strength.

All in all, this was an extremely uneventful race. I ran fast, consistently, and happily for six hours. I ran in the opposite direction for a little bit, then ran the original way again. Then at the end, I stopped running. And I felt good the whole time. And because of that, it’s one of the races I’ll keep close to my heart for a years to come.

The new year is a turning point, and even though it’s a made-up milestone in the scheme of civilization, sometimes that’s okay. For me, this race was a return to my roots.

Bring it on, 2018.

San Francisco delivers.

 

I am $25.00 fast

 

Running into the New Year

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Running around in circles near the Golden Gate Bridge

This New Years Eve, I ran a 24 hour race, called the New Year’s One Day. This was the second time I attempted this race – the first time was last year, where I encountered failure head on.

This year wasn’t as disastrous – I ran 70 miles in 16 hours before stopping, which was good enough for 3rd place. Will also did the last 15 or so with me, and we ran into the new year together – the fireworks were visible from the course, which was really neat!

This wasn’t quite the result I was hoping for – I was really hoping to get 100 miles in under 24, but it wasn’t in the cards this night. I was winning for the first 12-13 hours of the race (can you believe it?! I couldn’t). Around that time, I hit the wall pretty hard, probably because I wasn’t eating enough, and it was getting dark – I am a notoriously terrible nighttime runner. The other part that probably contributed to difficulties was the fact that half of the loop was on concrete – I didn’t realize how much that would tear up my feet, but now, over two weeks later, I still have a black toenail or two.

When I stopped, I was in 2nd, and the girl ahead of me had four laps (about four miles) on me. She ended up getting just over 100 miles, so unless I had a major 2nd wind, I probably wouldn’t have gotten there.

Just like last year, it was fun to meet all the runners. Lots of really talented people on the course, including some I’d met last year, back for a second punishment of running. Seeing an aid station every mile is always motivating, and it’s really cool to be able to run with people who are a few miles ahead of or behind you – something that never happens in point-to-point races.

All in, I’m glad I ran it, and I’m pretty proud of my result. 70 miles is no joke – it was more miles than last year! And this race was a really fun way to start the new year.

1/3rd of a 24 hour run: thoughts on failure

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Pre-race gear

On Dec 31st, I started running the San Francisco One-Day race. It’s a 24-hour race at Chrissy Field, with a great view of the Golden Gate bridge. Runners make ~1-mile loops around a lagoon from 9am on Dec 31st to 9am on Jan 1st, trying to log as many miles as they can.

My goal was to run 100 miles. I ended up running 40 before dropping out. I’ve never dropped out of a race before. It felt miserable. I felt like a failure, and like a quitter, and in some ways, I still do. It will probably take longer than the three days it’s been since the race to come to terms with dropping out.

The race itself: the course was beautiful. The light on the Golden Gate bridge was amazing to see in the morning, and at midday, and at sunset.

As for the running – the first five or ten miles were great. I was trotting along at a pretty good pace, keeping up with some of the top runners in the field. Between miles 10 and 20, I ran by myself, and I had some expected existential mini-crises: “Why are you doing this?” “Wouldn’t you rather be at home, petting the cats?”, but I kept up my pace. I finished 30 miles in six hours, which was right on track with my goal pace. I was also in 2nd or 3rd place for female runners at that point, which felt pretty good.

Around mile 34, my knee started hurting. Yes, that knee, and that same part. It was the injury that took me out for six months in 2012. Last time, it was caused by overuse, and by hitting the hills too hard, to quickly.

This course in SF was a flat course, but I knew what the problem was. I’d gone from running flat in Philadelphia to, before this race, running hills for a few weeks near by parents’ house in California, with no ramp-up time. I’d made the same mistake twice.

In a race, when some part of your body starts hurting, you try to do something differently for a bit. Walk half a lap, change your stride, strike with a different part of the foot, anything that might make the pain go away or allow your body to use different muscles for a bit. I tried a bunch of things, but the knee pain wasn’t getting better. I honestly didn’t expect it to. This particular pain wasn’t one you just worked through – it would just get worse.

I stayed on the course for another hour, mostly walking and occasionally jogging, giving the knee time to change it’s mind. I was hoping it would tell me “Just kidding! I was just messing with you. You can keep running.”

It wasn’t going to happen. Part of me knew it wasn’t going to, even though I was giving it time to stop hurting. I made it to 40 miles at around 8 hours, and dropped out. Spending the next 16 hours on the course, in pain, potentially damaging my knee irreparably, just didn’t seem like a good idea.

I took a shower at a friend’s place and immediately started driving back to Orange County.

The next 9 hours, as the clock turned to 2015, were spent alone in the dark, on the open road, or sleeping in the back seat of my car. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone.

I felt like a complete failure. I’d been looking forward to this race for so long – it had been a race I’d wanted to run for years. The idea of honoring my sport by finishing 2014 and starting 2015 with running seemed very symbolic. Now, I had to get over those sentimental notions. The calendar’s an arbitrary creation anyway.

I’m taking the next two weeks off from running, to let my knee – and the rest of my body – heal. After a year with 17 marathons/ultras, an average of ~50 miles per week, and almost 2,500 miles run in total, and crossing the 10,000 lifetime-mile threshold, it’s probably time to let my body recover for a bit.

However, I’ve had some time to reflect. Ultimately, this is an expected value calculation, where two outcomes were possible. In the first, I would have stayed on the course and finished the race; I most likely would have injured myself even further, which would mean being off of my feet for at least six months, and maybe much longer. In the second, which I chose, I stopped the race, take two weeks off, give my body time to recover, and get back to running slowly after that. Sounds better to me. While I’m not happy with the outcome in the short term, I know this was the right choice for the long term.

Handling this failure isn’t easy, but it’s also a good learning experience.

Also … I’m also now pretty sure I can run 100 miles in 24 hours. Running 40 miles in 8 hours is a pretty damn good start. I think I can do it again … and, next time, keep on running.

First, rest.

Check out the bridge in the background! This was our view all day.