The 35th Running of The Mini-Marathon.

I started just behind the white bucket truck.

                In preparation for the first Mini-Marathon in 1977, the race was originally slated as a bicycle race. However, organizers decided that having a bike race in the month of May would take away from the annual Little 500 held every year at the Indiana University campus in Bloomington, Indiana. (See the movie Breaking Away-- a favorite of mine) So, they decided to organize a running race instead. The first two years of the event included some legends of the sport such as Frank Shorter, who won the inaugural event in 1977 in a time of 1:03:56. Year two was supposed to pit defending champion Shorter and running legend Bill Rodgers against each other. However, Shorter suffered an injury and opted for a ride in the pace car yelling out split times to his friend Rodgers. Rodgers won the event in 1:03. In the women’s race Boston Marathon winner Miki Gorman won in 1:20:56. 

                In 1979, the event became part of the 500 Festival, for the famed Indianapolis 500. The event continued to grow throughout the years. In 1991, my first ever Mini-Marathon, the continued growth of the race had increased to 11,032 participants. In 1993, the decision was made to move the finish line from the famed Yard of Bricks, at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, to downtown Indianapolis. In 2002 a record field of 25,000 participants made the race the largest half marathon in the nation. This has continued through the present time where organizers have capped the field at 35,000 participants. According to runningusa.org, this race is the 3^rd largest half marathon in the world as of 2009.

                This year would be no different; the field was set at 35,000 participants, of which I was one. It’s an amazing feeling standing “at the starting line,” or somewhere behind it, with 34,999 other racers. The sheer magnitude of the event and camaraderie is amazing.

Pre-Race

                At 4:30AM my alarm clock decided it was time to get me up and ready to go for the 7:30am gun time. I had laid out my things the night before so that I wouldn’t forget anything on the morning of May 7^th, 2011, race day! I got out of bed and headed for the shower to help warm my legs and wake me up. For breakfast I had a bowl of steel cut oatmeal with raisins, maple syrup, and a touch of molasses. I then followed that up on the drive with a small coffee and a banana. We arrived in downtown Indianapolis at around 6:15 or so, and parked the car. As is my “M.O.”, I do not wear my running shoes in the car, so I began my routine of dressing out of the back of the car. My checklist goes something like this, although I don’t have it written down, yet. (After the mistake I made I shall make a real checklist in the future)

                The unofficial checklist for TheBrainrunner: Vaseline between the toes, running socks, shoes, shorts, warm up pants if it’s cold, tech shirt, sweat shirt if it’s cold, race number, timing chip, safety pins, watch, iPod and arm band, headphones, gels, gel clip on pocket, sunglasses, a smearing of lip balm, gloves if cold, hat if cold, bottle of water for pre-race, my bafound.org wrist band, and band aids...all of which made the trip with me for this morning's race. (I know what you’re thinking, that’s a lot of stuff. And it is but, at least I’m prepared, right?)  I was in good shape for the start, I had everything I needed, or so I thought.

                My goal for this race was to run sub 1:50 which is just under an 8:24/mile pace. I was in corral E so I could actually see the starting line from where I was and ended up crossing only 3 minutes or so after the gun. At 7:15ish I took on my first gel so it would have enough time to get into my system before the start of the race. The National Anthem was sung, the gun fired and the green flag waved. I was off and running the 2011 One America 500 Festival Mini Marathon.

                The thing about running in such a large race is that there are so many people and so many strategies it’s sometimes hard to follow yours. As we headed west on Washington Street passing the Eiteljorg Museum, the NCAA Hall of Champions, and the Indianapolis Zoo, it became evident to me that somehow there were some mix-ups in the seeding of some runners. Either that or they somehow got in the wrong corral. This was evident because of the excessive left to right movements I had to do to avoid running over anyone. But, for the most part I found everyone to be fairly courteous, and if I accidentally bumped someone's arm I apologized to them, not wanting to be “The Rude Runner.” At the first mile I checked my split against my watch and realized I was going much faster than I thought I was, with a 7:46 split. So I backed it down a little and began counting shoes of the same brand that I have. The number got up to six or seven pairs of Newtons over the next mile as my split came in at 8:19. I was feeling good. My breathing was regulated; I didn’t feel anything other than pure joy. I decided I should just go with it and run from effort instead of trying to regulate my pace based solely on split times.

                I began to look for a friend of mine who started a couple of corrals ahead of me, but who had been nursing a foot injury over the last eight weeks. I knew he was going to run the race, but that based on what he was telling me, he would be slower than he normally is. I also knew that this burned him up inside. After about a mile or so I stopped looking for him. My thinking was that with this many people the chances of me being able to pick out a single person were slim. Then I realized that I needed to use the facilities, translated, I had to pee. Somewhere between miles 4, which happened to be my fastest mile at 7:41, and five I found a pit stop row of port-o-potty's. This slowed me down just a little bit.... I clocked that fifth mile at 8:54, but was back at it.

Indianapolis Motor Speedway

                Just a little bit after mile five you enter the town of Speedway, home of the Indianapolis 500. Looming in the distance was the famed track, and I, along with 34,999 of my closest friends of the day were going to run on the same track that other racing legends had logged so many miles on in their cars. Just past mile six, and at an 8:02 pace, I enter the back stretch of “The Brickyard.” The track got this nickname because when it was first paved with bricks, it took 3.2 million bricks to complete the project. The front and back straightaways are 5/8 of a mile long with 9 degree banking. Each of the four turns has 12 degree banking, making up the 2.5 mile track. The seating capacity of 250,000 permanent seats makes this the world’s largest sporting facility.

Turn 4 of the Speedway

                At mile seven (8:10 pace), I passed a gentleman who had a tic mark on the back of his shirt for each of these races he’d completed, which was twenty in all. What an inspiration he was! We spoke briefly and parted ways as I pushed on, exiting turn four then heading for the remaining stretch of bricks, which marks the Speedway's finish line. By chance, I spotted my friend up ahead and caught up to him so that we could pass over the bricks together. I wished him luck, and he said he was doing okay for someone who hadn’t trained in 8 weeks. He wished me luck and said I was looking good and seemed to be on pace for a PR. Mile 8 found my pace at 8:12 and I was having a great time. I even picked up a Hawaiian lei from one of the local high school cheer groups. I ran with that for maybe the length of two football fields, then decided it had to go.

                With the track behind me and an 8:03 mile 9, it was time to begin the path back toward downtown to the finish line. Shortly after mile 10, with a pace of 8:17, I began to feel a slight burning sensation around my left pectoral muscle. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks! I brought my band aids, but I didn’t put them on. I had forgotten to cover my nipples, which were now chafing. Crap! "How could I have been so dumb?", is what I thought as I pictured them sitting on the fourth floor of the parking garage, in the back of my wife’s car, in the side pocket of my duffel bag... unused. I made a quick stop at one of the medical tents to ask if they had any band aids, which they did not. I guess they were more prepared for bigger issues than my now slightly bloody left chest. On I pushed turning off of 10^th street and onto White River Pkwy, completing mile 11 in 8:11.             

Heading toward the finish

                I could feel myself beginning to get a little tired, so right before the next water stop I consumed the last of my four gels just in time to wash it down with some water. Then I found myself at mile 12 with a pace of 8:10.  Looking at my watch,  I knew my PR was going to happen today. I tried to pick up the pace to finish strong, but I started the kick a little early, having to slow with only a half left. Then a kind lady from the crowd saw that I was struggling, and thankfully read my name on my bib, yelling it out loud enough so that I could hear. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to dig a little deeper, and I was off again to finish strong. Both sides of the finishing stretch were lined with spectators and bleachers. I kept looking right to left for my wife and my two little girls who had made signs for me. But through all the crowds and my determination, it was hard to pick out any one thing. Sadly I didn’t get to see them cheering me on. As I pushed hard toward the finish line I was trying to do the math from the gun time clock to subtract what I thought was my finishing time.

                I crossed the finish line with an official time of 1:46:58, which was revised from 1:47:01. Either of them would have been a PR for me, but going under the 47 minute mark seems a little sweeter. Before I was even halfway through the finishing chute, my wife had received a text that I had finished and she was calling me (you have to love technology.) We met just after that while I was still in the chute, so that I could grab a dry shirt and get some pictures taken with our girls.

                What a spectacular race! I look forward to running it again and again. Hopefully one day, I can run it with my daughters, which is a day that I can’t wait to experience.

My Foray Into Trail Running

Trail running. When I think of trail running, I normally think of ultra-marathons run in remote places of the country or globe. I've never run an ultra-marathon. Heck, I've not even run a full marathon yet, but the idea of running on trails seems interesting to me. I listen to a couple of podcasts that talk about trail running and ultra-marathons but I've never done any of that type of running before. During our vacation a couple of weeks ago, we were staying just outside of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. As part of one of my runs into the park, I noticed a side trail that I knew lead to the visitor center near the entrance. So, being adventurous, I jumped on the trail and took off.

I noticed another runner ahead of me and tried to pick up the pace, so that I could chat with him as we ran together through this beautiful scenery. This trail is very well manicured and had a fine layer of crushed stone, making it softer than, but as smooth as a road, and I was able to catch up to him fairly easily. Upon striking up a conversation, I found out that the other runner was from a neighboring city to the one that I live in three states away from where we were running now. We ran together for 20 minutes or so, then split up once we reached the visitors center. On my run back to where we were staying, I thought about trying to map out a more adventurous trail run for the next day.

Log Bridge, over troubled water?

So I jumped on the internet and found a trail map for the park then decided on a loop run that would be about 12 miles. The trail map didn't have any elevation notations on it so I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into. So the next morning I filled my fuel belt, ate some breakfast, then headed out for my first "real" trail run. I've done some hiking in the Smokies before, so I knew what the trails were like, but I'd never even thought about running on them. I started down the main drag in Gatlinburg, then headed onto the trail that I'd run the previous day. At about three and a half miles I got to the trail head of my adventure and started up a slight incline. This slight incline quickly turned heavenward. I knew I would be a little slower than I normally run, but I was sadly unprepared for just how quickly my pace would slow. Over the first three miles, my average pace was in the 9:20's, with only 38 feet in elevation gain. However, the next four miles were all uphill. The time it took me to run those next four miles was just over an hour, with 1,108 feet in elevation gain. Being from a fairly flat part of the country, I'm not used to this type of elevation gain so I was spent. However, I was having fun and enjoying the scenery, which to me is part of the enjoyment of running, wherever you are. Near the top of the mountain, I came to a stream crossing, which I had to walk vs. run because the "bridge" was a cut log. I didn't feel like I should take a chance since I hadn't seen anyone else in about an hour and the cell coverage, if I was to get hurt and needed help, was nonexistent.

Throughout the run so far, I'd come to three trail markers, each one with other trails veering off in other directions. According to my research, I should have only seen one until I reached a scenic access road, which I was planning on taking back down the mountain and back toward town. I am fairly gifted (according to my wife) with directions, and being able to know which way I'm facing, where we are headed, etc. But being out here for as long as I had without a map, other than the one in my head, I was starting to get a little nervous because I thought I should have come to the road by now. I knew the names of the trails that I was supposed to take from my research, but all of the signs at trail intersections had different names on them. (I know what you're thinking, and that is, "What the heck are you doing; turn around and go back; you're lost, you idiot; are you trying to get yourself lost in the forest without any real supplies?") Nevertheless, I trudged on. After about another 1/2 mile of normal hills, I almost ran into a van, which came out of almost nowhere. It was kind of foggy, hence the name "Smoky Mountains", and I didn't even see the road, but there it was. A nice elderly couple was out sight seeing and I think they were as shocked to see me as I was them. The gentleman rolled down his window to ask for directions and I kind of chuckled to myself and explained to them that I wasn't sure about where they were heading. He then asked how rough the trail was, to which I explained that the last 1/2 mile or so was fairly easy and that there was some great sights to see.

We parted ways and I headed down the road. The road was, you guessed it, downhill. On the way down the mountain, I came around a bend to see a line of cars stopped with camera lenses sticking out the windows. This made my heart jump! Having been to the park at least 12 times I knew that this meant wildlife was near, and that sometimes this meant black bear. If this was the case, it looked like a great time to catch my breath and start walking.

Black Bears in the Smokies

I raised my glasses so that I could see more clearly, and was relieved when I saw not bear, but wild turkey strutting through the woods. Whew was I relieved to see Tom walking and not Yogi! The rest of the run was normal and without incident. I ended up with 11.98 miles and my first real trail run in the bag. I loved the experience, and got a real sense of nature just being out there with the mountain. I look forward to running some more trails in the future and think that I will have to add this to my training regimen if for nothing else than to break up some of the monotony that roads can sometimes have.

Short & Sweet

Since my last entry I've had a lot going on. I was actually on vacation when the last post went up. My family and I took a trip to Gatlinburg, TN for some rest and relaxation. I ran my first "real" trail run in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, which was awesome and humbling at the same time. After we returned, I had to exchange my 3 week old shoes because of some stitching issues. My replacement shoes were on back order, but after about a week I got the problem resolved. I'm now just recovering from a cold, so my running has been very minimal over the last two weeks.

On April 23rd, I'll be running in the Bricks to Bricks 10 Miler, which is a training race for the Mini Marathon.  I'm looking forward to this event because I love running in big groups. It's run in downtown Indy--check out the course map here.  I'll give you an update on the run after I've completed it. 

That's all I have for now. Sorry for the short post. Please click on the "follow" button to the right to get updates when I post new entries. Thanks for reading, please leave a comment or post a suggestion below.