Dynamics of Old New France

Here's a little side note entry. I didn't realize to the full capacity if the Canadian dynamics of the people here. All of Quebec speaks french, a scattering of English here and there, but lightly sprinkled. The eastern most provinces of Canada seem to have a distaste for Quebec aka, the French... Ok, starting to catch the vibe up here a little. 

I befriended a few folks from Nova Scotia, very cool people, and they seem to be happy that I'm here bc I represent a possibility to beat the French. The French on the other hand are deeply passionate about beating the American, me (so it seems). The eastern provinces, or as they call themselves, Real Canada (which excludes Quebec) are English speaking and don't care who really wins as long as it's not the French. It's fairly basic, English language vs French language, I dig it as long as it's a competition! Ha. 

At the race brief meeting they covered all the logistics and other "must knows," for the race on Sunday. Only problem: solely in French. The race director, and awesome dude, Matt Nelson gave me the scoop (and I quote directly and accurately, minus the real F word): "Ferenc (in a southern drawl), all you need to know is, don't F with the moose, don't F with the caribou and don't F with bear. And just run fast! Of any of those things present themselves, just stand your ground..."

The French meeting was 45 min, Matt's talk was 45 seconds. How hard can it be really? Run fast, avoid things to stop running fast... Easy. 

I've set up a home base 5k outside of the race site where I'm allowed to have the girls out and have a culvert locked down. I do my best, "None shall pass!!!" When cars come and I also mix in a little Monty Python: Black Knight, needless to say , this bridge is secure. I've also been trolling underneath it during the heat of 91 degrees and have a decent little camp. 

I got the camping may down and the sleeping bag. The water has to be a tick above freezing and in the culvert must be a cool 60-65 degrees. 

Oui Oui

Woof! So here's the dirty, I drove 800 miles to the remote Gaspé Peninsula for the Canadian Sky Running Races (Vertical K, 100k, 22k, and 42k). I saw the pics in the Facebook and it look awesome. It was also the first week off from school and thought what a great vacation and training week. 

Holy crow is 800 miles a long way... I left in Wednesday and was supposed to pick up Dave James in Quebec City but his flights got screwy on his way back from Austria, so alone I ventured. Wait, I have my girls with me, both Ellie and Lena are making the adventure to Canada. (Side note: the girls have been awesomely behaved the whole trip.). 

My plan is to race a Vertical K on Friday, rest Saturday then race the marathon on Sunday. The VK goes up Mont Albert while the marathon will run up Mont Jaques-Cartier then back down. I really had my mind set on winning both (no one told me I shouldn't). 

Upon my arrival to the Haute Gaspesié I found there not to be any mountains, let alone even some hills. I saw pics of them but wasn't seeing them as I was about to be on top of them. Without disappointing, they came out of no where, and very impressive. They looked closely like the Franconia side of the Whites except a little steeper (the ones I can see). Cool. 

Also upon arriving I found that dogs are not permitted into the park whatsoever. They are not even allowed to be in the car if you stop within the park!??!!! What the cuss is that about? Like everything, I'll wing it... 

Did a little course preview before heading down and getting ready for the "night before the race" type cuss. 

Super technical section but other than this, it's going to be fast. Loads of places to open it up and run fast. 

Thursday Night: I got settled as where things are and as I'm about to leave and hit the town, I hear a hissing... Flat tire, cuss you! 

I got it driving on one of the highly traveled highways...

So, flat changed, I hit the local town for Subway and grab a few provisions and see about getting my tire fixed. I took the girls to the beach quick and enjoyed seeing them out running in the sand. 

(Lena is way out in the middle of the pic)

There are more Pelletier names in the phone book up here than China has rice, and I was fortunate to have one of them fix my tire fast! Good man! 

Friday: after camping out the night before in my truck with the girls I awoke with the sun, 4:11! I tried incredibly hard to sleep a bit more as the race started at 2. Around 6 I stirred and shagged a slow and easy 3 mile run with the girls (off the park limits). This felt awful on the way out and much better once I turned around. He car ride made my hamstrings a bit tighter than normal but could feel them loosening up. Bc the girls can be in the park, I statues about 3 miles off a dirt road just over the parks borders by a river with a culvert. I hung here under ye culvert like a troll and enjoyed the morning. There was a concern: what was I going to do with the girls during the race? I solved this very easily, I found a vacant fishing site along the river with heavy cover. I parked with the windows down and pretended I owned the place. It worked! My girls were cool and calm when I returned after the race (I ran like hell back down the mtn to get them out ASAP). 

Once the girls were settled/hidden in the woods I ran to the start of the VK. I was unsure who was any good, so I just hung around and looked/sized everyone over. I was to start 12th in a staggered start, (in one min intervals). 

As it turned out, there was a 1:05 half, 29:00 10k road runner here (so he says, but he wouldn't be the first fast road runner I've taken down, hell, I've taken down faster PR guys this year! As it turns out, he has recently run these times and also finished second at the World Snow Show Champs held in VT this winter)... I didn't know his stats before the race but he told me he was elite. Once he told me I had a very natural reaction: I hated him. I had to, it was a race, I'll talk to him after but for now, hate was the flavor of choice. 

The good news about that guy was he wasn't a liar, he was very fast and ended up winning the race easily (that sentence was harder to write than the VK itself). 

With the staggered start it def would be all against the clock. With 11 people ahead of me, I liked the idea of caching people and it forced me to fight, claw and gnash the whole way. 

The race itself was very odd. The mtn looms and looks huge, but the 5.6k race was very very... easy. What made it hard was the incrediblely fast pace. I was expecting a lot of speed hiking and power walking, but there were very little places to do it. It was a running race all the way. "True racers course..." Haha

I was super aggressive the whole race and looking back at the final outcome I can't find anywhere I could have done anything different. I charged the climbs and raced the runnable sections in a sprint type way. Overall, after an effort like that, I would never guess anyone would run faster. 

Just over 3/4 of the way I was told that the leader was only 7 min ahead of me. With not a lot of race left it gave me a mental break. Physically I wanted to bury as much time into everyone as possible. With 100 meters to go you crack the tree line, run across a snow glacier and finish. I gave all I had and was happy with my time, 40:45 (?) and happy with the effort I put forth. I was not happy with the lead dude pumping his fist and celebrating right in my face... As it turned out, the dude who told me I was 7 min back was not accurate. Pepe Le Pui beat me by just under 2 min... 

It was hard to be pissed as I knew I couldn't have run the race any other way AND, once on top of the ridge it was a huge field which is a grazing ground for the caribou. There was a causeway across the field and, I ran this to the other side, and was super stoked to be where I was. Yes, I'm annoyed I didn't win, but the dude is legit. Cuss him, haha. The top of the mountain was awesome. I wish I could have stayed longer but the thought if my girls dying in the car due to heat exhaustion was enough to have me rifle down the mtn. When I got to them they were super excited and totally fine. The breeze of the river was super cold and we ended up taking a swim in that ice bath river. 

Ps. The mosquitoes and flies are ruthless and relentless. I swear a mosquito left my car after the first nights sleep the size of a sparrow, hopefully the lack of blood will not come back to haunt me. 

Lloyd and Harry

Oh hello... I'm the rubber that often runs extremely smart but this blog post will be reflective of why I don't gamble...

Vermont City Marathon

There was a lot of hype leading into VCM this year. The local news team out of Burlington shadowed me a day in my classroom and while I coached at track practice. The dude was an awesome guy but he definitely instilled to my community that I was going to win. 

At no point in time was this a realistic view for me as my goals were top 5 and top VT. The training didn't not show that I was able to run low 2:20's, which is always in the mix for the W. 

Leading up to the race I had some great runs, not a lot of specific work and 2 very good race showings. Not a lot to work wth as far as feedback for how a marathon would go. Ideally I wanted to lock into high 5:30's (5:37-5:39) with a group and feel relaxed to at least 22. Possible wishful thinking but why think any other way? 

The only problem was once the race started there was a group of 15+ guys at low 5:20's, me and Scott McGrath at 5:30-5:35 and everyone else way the cuss back. Awesome... Not really. As we were clipping off the miles hovering around 5:30 the group ahead continued to pull away, the group behind was nowhere to be seen and I was faster than I wanted to be. Also, there was a VT dude mixing it up in the lead chase pack... All race plans went out the window at 5 miles. I panicked. I thought about that cussing TV interview and couldn't fathom going back to school and explain to all the kids why I wasn't first VT. Fortunately, Scott was just as anxious to ruin his race as I was and we continued 7-10 seconds per mile too say. 

Now, VCM's course def eludes to false times as the first part as all the fans and substantial down hill. Just as long as you survive the belt way. Scott had some entertaining quotes along the way. As the dog was still heavy on the belt way he remarked, "this looks like a place where souls go to die..." And he was right, it looked not enjoyable. Ha. 

As we wrapped back into the city he had another good one, "if your going to latch one to someone and make them your alias, who better than the Last Hero Only Hope?" Hahaha, well played. And lastly, "don't let me ruin your race too...."

Haha, don't worry dude , I'm doing just fine on my own. Ruining it that is...

By 10 miles the first VT guy was out of sight and I was way too fast. I had to take a break from Scott and run my own race as I was falling off his strong lead. From 10-13 I dropped 5:45 x 3 and bit the bullet as to this was what I was going to have to do to get to the end. 

But... Just after 13.1, the first VT guy pops right in front of my face. Game is back on! If he's hurting here, he's not going to make it to the finish line strong (or so I told myself). 

I re-settled back into 5:30's and just commited to the stupidity. I convinced myself that I was strong enough and stubborn enough to do it. 

The early fast pace also was taking its roll on a lot of dudes up in the front. I slowly continued to catch them, all while, holding my pace around 5:35. 

When reality set in I was at 22, and thankful for only having 4 miles left. I bit, clawed, prayed, begged for help to get me to the finish line. I kept telling myself that if I could hold it together I'm about to run 2:26-2:27! This thought was awesome!!! After one mile, of the four, 2:26 was out. Two miles to go I still thought 2:27-2:28 was possible, nope. I once again asked my for bearers for help but kept looking at the watch and seeing time being added, legs were junk and I was struggling. If surge here and there for a few strides but my race was done and I killed myself to run it in. 

Coming around the final turn I knew I could get 2:29 something if I could kick, and bye rhyming holy mustered enough of a kick for a 2:29:59... So, I can drop the seconds and say I'm a 2:29 guy. HahHa. 

8th overall, 1st VT! 

The Crow Awaits Us All

"Josh, how about a quick pre-marathon 'interview'? I say interview, but I think I only need to ask you one question: Are you ready?"

"Feel free to go nuts with it, take whatever angle you like. Talk about training, race strategy, how you plan on crushing the will of your opponents just after the gun goes off, etc. Sound good?"

The question was asked: Are you ready? 

To be perfectly honest, I'm more unsure than I've been in a very long time. To really elude to my true thoughts could admit weakness and of being vulnerable, and I just won't do that. I'll never bet against me, I'll never count myself out, no matter what. I have to be realistic. I haven't done any individual specific training for this marathon other than some solid long runs on the weekends. No workouts that would give me the feedback that would give me any clarity now. 

Throughout this process of getting to Sundays marathon in Burlington I have been asking myself a lot of questions and doing a lot of self reflection on my daily runs. In my vision quest for answers in the universe of nature, I've captured the attention of my beginnings from the Quarry of the Gods. Through my question asking I was presented, not with answers, but questions to my questions. 

In the booming ominous voice only my ears and body could handle I was asked: Where have all the good men gone and where are all the Gods? Where's the street-wise Hercules to fight the rising odds?

This was a stealthy shock of electricity to my soul and I knew. I knew I needed to become a white knight upon a fiery steed. I need to forego my nights where I toss and I turn and I dreamt of what I was to need. 

The Old Gods smiled a sinister smile upon me and one spoke clearly: I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero, till the end of the night. 

Then the giggles of the fair beautiful goddesses chimed in a sultry whisper: He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight. 

I understood these beauties, they needed me to fulfill a destiny and they wanted me to hold out to the morning light, they wanted me to be sure and be larger than life. So far, all of the requests and questions were within my abilities. 

The Massacre of Sleepy Hollow is still fueling my confidence and the taste of souls still drips from my jowls. Relaxing has been the hardest part as I'm super anxious to hit the streets and see where my fitness lies. Do I go out to run 2:25, or play it safe (if it's considered safe and not too fast) of 5:40's? Who the cuss knows?!!! 

So I counseled my own again. Through a vivid dream I was reached and told that somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy somewhere just beyond my reach, there's someone reaching back for me, and the gods would be pulling me through the race if I needed them too. 

I would need to consider the elements. I would be racing on the thunder and rising with the heat I would be a Superman and sweep the goddesses off their feet. 

It was beginning to get clearer and clearer of my goal and what I would need to do. Up where the mountains meet the heavens above out where the lightning splits the sea I could swear that there's someone somewhere watching me through the wind and the chill and the rain and the storm and the flood I can feel the approach like a fire in my blood. 

I've convinced myself that, "I got this," and just need to get to the starting line. I feel like I have more people cheering and rooting me on this time around, which adds a bit of pressure. Well, in actuality, I'm the only one that adds any pressure. With a little help from my friends (Gods) everything will work itself out. I can only do what my fitness and physical capabilities will allow. The good thing is, I'm cussing awesome at subjecting myself to races and I will be able to tough, grit and grind. To all those thinking positive thoughts, thanks, to all those thinking negative thoughts: that adds friction and friction makes fire; so, also thanks bc I'm going to light a fire late in the race and will need that fuel! I'll need a miracle, but I'd rather be a hero. There needs to be a hero, and who better then the Last Hero Only Hope?!!!

Band of Misfits

Goodness gracious... As if the training couldn't have crumpled anymore, it seems to have. The training has been piecemeal and the realization that 26 miles (I'm not worried about the cussing .2) is a week away is starting to play with my brainwaves. I thought I'd be going into the marathon feeling godly, instead I'm feeling a shade under superhuman. 

To mock a friend, I'm not scared of the distance, ha, yet a bit unsure of the pace. In the beginning of March I rolled through the marathon of the 50k in 2:34, with hopes to get to this point looking at running 2:25-2:27, but in realization, WHO THE CUSS KNOWS!!! I have no idea what to expect which is both nerve racking and relaxing. It seems I need to rely on the good old "wing it, fly by the seat of my pants" like I do for the majority of races. As I wrote this, I'm feeling ok about it (I cussing have to be). 

I'm over road racing and most road races. I don't like training on the road. Here and there it's fun but living on the road cusses. The trails are where I want to be and really love the freedom nature brings. I don't translate to the roads the way I do to the mountains and trails. Races where I can change gears constantly and mix up the pace and efforts are where I feel the best and see the best results. Training with my girls out in the woods is the best!!! 

The last two weeks that followed Sleepy Hollow have been packed with 6 total track meets (4 with my team and I helped clerk 2 at for the HS) and I've lost some quality running days and will have a three week taper. Ha. My eyes are set past this race and I'll need to vision quest to walk with the gods I'm often associated with. 

I'll run smart and have a decent result, but not the results I'd like of mixing it up closer to the front. The race itself is a ton of fun (until the neighborhoods, but no one remembers that when they are asked to run again and again). 

Time to hit the quarry of the gods and seek my maker for some encouragement throughout the race. 

Vaya Con Basajuan Dios

And now I lay thee down to sleep... 

How the cuss is everyone (all 11 readers)? It's been wildly busy in the wilds of VT and I'm not sure where to even start?! Do I explain that my training is, well, just going? Do I explain that I'm training on anxious levels that are through the roof and training to one-up any and all competition? There's really nothing to explain other than I have been training within the confines of organized chaos, and I'm responding well to it. Or so I think with the limited scope and sequence. 

After the 50k I had my eyes set on racking up miles and introducing quality workouts. This was a cuss of an idea but never really happened. Instead I have been dropping some awesome runs, some great longs runs and supplementing workouts when I feel like it. The main goal was the first race on the mtn series, Sleepy Hollow followed by the Vermont City Marathon, then anything and everything. I really wanted to win this race, badly, and not only win but demoralize and really start the season like a kingpin boss. But the training left me insure of how the race would go. 

The training leading up to this has been great, excluding the week of, and I was highly optimistic, excluding the week of, and felt very confident, excluding the week of...

So, I ventured to the northwest corner if VT to Kasie Enman's house for the 10k trail/Mtn hybrid. It was going to be a gathering of a lot of friends (so I call them) and a lot of other great (and not so great) people, ha. The first people I saw upon my arrival were Jim Johnson and Kevin Tilton, they were also the two people I was most hoping to see, bc, like I said, I think we are friends. Voltron was in full effect as Greg came with me to spectate the show I had planned. We all decided to warm up together and it was great to shoot the breeze and catch up a bit. We all felt like cussing cuss. Kevin Tilton had a great thought as to why. He thinks that our bodies subconsciously sabotage our week when we know we have a race, in order for our bodies to HAVE to rest. This is genius and made a cuss load of sense. I immediatly felt better. 

The race field seemed to be jacked as well. This is where most of my anxiousness was coming from. There were a ton of great runners in the field. I wanted to win in the worst way, and really had to leave it all out there, as it would be a vital ingredient to my confidence stew I'm brewing that will lead me into VCM. Everything was going to have to go right in order to win, let alone be competitive with the stellar field. I also love killing and winning, so the balance of anxiousness to race and anxiousness of who was there was fairly even. 

Before the race I chatted with Greg and asked what he felt the race strategy should be. He felt that I should run hard where my strengths were. Well, seeing that it was a mud fest, on trails, with hills? It would be a tough task to do what I envisioned doing. 

The course is essentially 3 loops with each loop a mile up then a mile down. The conditions were ideal for me. Wet, tough, somewhat cold and a course where you need to change gears a lot. My race plan was to go out in the front and press the pace to feel who was going to respond and attack, attack and attack. I was going to attack the hills, attack the down hills and attack in between and force the pace or effort to be very uncomfortable and I was hoping that that would be enough to make it so I was competitive and had the finish I was looking for. 

About 5 min before the start I really felt that I was zoned in and could have killed someone I was so cussing fired up to race. It was a bit scary as I was in full on killer mode and so much that I felt awkward. Thankfully the race started and I was able to inflict my emotions. The first thing I did was get to the front and start the slow grinding press. It was evident the first 100m that no one was going to challenge me for the lead. Any chance I could the first mile I surged. 

I envisioned that I was 3 different runners, one for each of the elements (up, flats, down) and I told myself that I had to be the best at each discipline. I attacked the first climb and when reaching the top, I didn't recover yet I pressed as hard as I could, crested the hill and surged down the other side. This was incredibly painful as I had lactic acid screaming though me. But, I had to get away and break away from the field so much that there would be no way in Hades fiery hell that they could imagine catching me. I wanted to end the race right then and there. And I did. I climbed like a fire breathing dragon, sprinted down the hills and rolled hard on the flats. 

By 1.25 miles I had a nice lead and it was only getting larger. It felt great, I felt great and I was determined to keep the pain high and ride it out. The second climb was insanely soupy and tough and I was brought back into view of the field at times, this was short lived as when cresting the second hill I sprinted the downhill to really get out of sight and stay out of site. At 4 miles my lead was 90 sec. The last 2 miles is a ton of fun as the climb isn't that bad, it's on single track and then there is a long gradual down hill that feels like you're on a conveyer belt. It felt so great to feel like I was running wicked fast, so great. 

I had an anti-Murphy's Law day, anything and everything that could have gone right, did! Sleepy Hollow went very well and I'm extremely fortunate to have run well enough to win. It was great seeing a slew of mtn friends and this race did what it needed to do: validate my confidence (uh oh)!!! 

I've included the Level Renner interview. Some people might not like my honesty or obvious confidence level, but cuss'm. You don't like it, come on out and race... I have the utmost respect for my competition and if you don't want to know: don't ask...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVLwZZfv0qE

Survival Musts

Let's start this with a great big ol' "holy cuss!" This past weekend I embarked in a vision questing miracle trip to the USATF 50k road championships in Long Island. I've been here twice before and left with a 2nd place the first adventure here and a disappointing 5th the other.  So I know what comes with the race, having been successful once and very disappointed the other attempt. 

I had done the long runs and the distances needed for the race but def didn't have the "in between" efforts I should have. Only the divine could have survived the way I did. Holy cuss... 

I was rolling to the event Voltron style with Greg and Fyffe. It was to be a dude adventure where the pressure of disappointment was not going to be tolerated: I had to step up and not let my people down. 

The car ride down was eventful as we spoke of politics, life, unmentionables, and general topics that drifted through my ever racing mind. I was in charge of reserving a hotel/motel/holiday inn and did one better: Rodeway Inn. 

Now, on the line of the internet it had a 3.5 star rating out of 5. It wasn't a 3.5 star hotel, that was just it's rating. Upon arrival at the check in desk, the clerk let's me know that the room I reserved would not be available. I then proceed to do my best Seinfeld and explain that she knew how to take my reservation, but didn't know how to hold the reservation. The whole point of me calling 10 days prior was to assure I would have the room available that I needed... Instead of a non-smoking room with double beds, we now had a smoking room with double beds. What the cuss!!! 

Greg and Fyffe weren't to bothered by it but I wanted to keep at the poor women until she either conceded and gave us a free room or provided.... Never mind. 

We wanted to run so we hit the room to change before heading to the course. Now, smoking rooms are bad, but our to be room was a mixture of a Tijuana brothel where you paid in cigarette cancer smoke. It was bad. The room was probably the site of many an amateur movie where bad things with lots of diseases were filmed. Great pre-race environment. The only benefit was that our hotel stay got us 20% off at TGIFridays. I did a lot of head shaking and knew a huge effort tomorrow was I order. Cuss. 

The course run was good, I felt fine on the 3 miler Greg and I did and I was getting less nerved up and more anxious and excited. 

When we got back to the hotel we found our room cleaned and it appeared to be normal, except for the lingering smoke smell. Whatever. It was dinner time so we walked to the TGIFridays. No sidewalks were ploughed so Fyffe and Greg walked in the unploughed sidewalk snow banks while I opted for the road. I wasn't scared of a car hitting me, I'm going to live to be 98 and I feel super human. 

Fyffe and Greg on a 3ft sidewalk snow bank. 

After a mini game of Frogger to cross the highway we made it to dinner. It wasn't bad. The bar tender was able to shed a little more light on our hotel of choice, (I'm paraphrasing) "yea, strippers and hookers work there, a lady with a duffel bag of cash was there..." Awesome. I'll enjoy digging the crabs out of my pumpkin patch when I get home...

I was hoping for a good night sleep and wake up as rested as possible before my quest towards 100% of everything I have.  But a good nights sleep was out of the question, it ended up being a epic Wild West story night. Haha. I didn't need any sleep anyways... 

Mid story time in the brothel cancer smoke shed. 

I woke up the next day ready to eat and head to the site to get my head wrapped around 10 5k laps. The laps are esthetically pleasing and I really like the course (except one hairpin turn which BLOWS). Main goal: stay within myself. I had "mantra" going though my head. I figured it was going to be an even runned effort with the needle pinned on the fastest grind I could do, so the mantra was, "wallflowers don't get laid, I need to hit the dance floor and GRIND!" 

Race time: the weather was cold and damp but never got wet (that's what she...). I looked the part as I was rolling with the Wild Neoteny signature series hat and arms sleeves which aptly read, "Last Hero, Only Hope" and was the appropriate decision (I needed a miracle). The plan was to go hit at race pace, 6 min miles, and hold it as long as possible. Looking at the field it appeared to be about 5 guys to challenge up front. Two years ago there were 3 guys up front but I still managed to finish 5th, which meant I faded badly. Not this year.  To win, would have been a whole winter of different training and winning was a bit just out of the question and just finishing was priority number one, with holding as close to 6 min pace as long as possible, priority number 2. The realization that I could run 3:15 was a nerve racking truth and would have been demoralizing (but a possibility). 

Once the race started it was evident that there was only 4 dudes here, with me clearly the 4th guy. This settled in quickly and the only way I could move onto the podium was by staying within myself and having one of them come back. This also had nothing to do with my race so I just focused on me.

At 1.5 Joe Gray initiated for my to join him and Micheal Wardian. This would have looked super cool, race hob knobbing with them but I'm already super cussing cool so I elected to not ruin my race and stick to the game plan. 

I was running hot every mile to start and commited to it. The first mile has a long gradual downhill and hit 5:51, second mile has a small roll to it, 11:42, the third mile is flat with a hairpin turn in it the. You hit the start for 5k and head out for the lap. I was 18:10 for the first 5k. I reminded myself to relax, I was in no mans land and would be racing by myself for a while until we started lapping people. Same story to open up the second lap, 5:42, 11:39, 18:00 5k. I thought I was slowing down but I was settling in to 5:50. 

I had to really focus on chilling and not continuing to gradual pick up the pace. After two laps, the effort did start to become "real," meaning I could feel it and it was going to be tough. I was on the edge the whole race, and with 8 laps to go I realized two things: you may not hold this pace , immediately followed by, don't ever think that again an of course you'll do it, you have to. 

In the mix if the third 5k I started to get a bit more comfortable. Same story, 5:45 fist mile then held that effort to finish up 18:16, cool. Again and again I rattled of even 5k's which was high octane confidence fuel. The middle few 5k's were becoming a blur. Fyffe and Greg were on the opening mile and I was hydrating and fueling perfectly. 

Lap 4: 18:18

Lap 5: 18:21... And smooth. 

After crossing half way I preplanned a mental shift. I knew that half way was a whole different race and I had to really really focus. Around this time I was hoping that te guys up front were beating the cuss out if each other and one or two may fade back. Just the idea was made me relax a bit but every lap I could see no ground was being made up.

Lap 6: 18:09

I opened up the second half with one of my fastest laps which was more adrenaline than me making moves. I kept taking deep breaths and remind in myself to relax. It was on my seventh lap that I knew I had to pray for help. Now, to clarify, my praying and to whom I pray is its own entity and my own beliefs structure. I prayed to my ancestors from which my family derives, I prayed to nature, I prayed to my extended godly lineages, and asked for help. I asked for help with laps 7 and 8, where if I received help I could do the last two laps on my own. 

I heard the hammer and chisel from the quarry if the gods in which I was cut. A flock of crows flew to the tree that over hung the course and started cawing wildly and my family was silent, which meant it was about to get real! In seriousness, immediate after my pray request a group of crows to fly above me and did caw wildly, this was inspirational and exciting. I just kept telling myself that I was going to get help these two laps and the last two laps are your. 

Lap 7: 18:36

Lap 8: 18:30

Some time in the mix of things Greg and Fyffe let me know that Gray had stepped off the course. This is unfortunate, but does benefit me as I moved up to 3rd. Joe has been if fire lately absolutely crushing souls, traveling around the world, and afterwards he said it just caught up with him and he was tired and his legs were flat. If it could happen to him, it could happen to anyone, including me so had to continue to grind even splits as possible. Some dude I don't know was wailing everyone in first while Wardian was in second. With two laps to go, it didn't look like Wardian was putting any more time one me sice half way and to catch him would have been improbable. 

Lap 9 was one of the most fun laps. I kept telling myself positive things and knowing only one lap was left was uplifting. Every lap before and Greg and Fyffe were calmly providing updates and encouragement but upon the opening of the last two laps started getting pumped and wild and really fueling the effort. 

Lap 9: 18:51, but still feeling ok. I was gradually slowing down each 5k, but it was 2-3 seconds a lap and not at all discouraging. 

Lap 10 was great, all I had to do was finish. My legs were about 5 miles away from cramping, but the good news of 3 miles left was awesome. I pushed as hard as I could the opening mile of the last lap. I thought "what the cuss, take a risk and pout everything you got into it." Evidently that was a 6:02 mile. This made me smile, 2 miles left. On the downhill of the second mile I tried to surge and felt like it was one of my best miles in the whole race, where it was my slowest at 6:22. Worst case scenario now is I hobble in at 8-9 min mile pace but the legs didn't cramp and I attempted another surge the last mile. I hit the last mile at 5:55 and cruised in for a new PR (barely) and a third place finish.

It felt great to have a positive experience where everything went great. Greg and Fyffe immediately came over to congratulate where I instantly let then know that "it was too easy..." Hahaha.  I may have overextended and ran a bit above expectations. That was confirmed during the ride while we were leaving the Island when I asked Greg his thoughts. Greg shook his head and said to me, "dude, that was a miracle..." Hahaha. 

It really was awesome to roll Voltron style with my bros. They added an extra element where I didn't want to disappoint them for making the trip. Sharing time with my buddies is more fun than a gutterpig...