How can running downhill be so difficult?! Despite the significant decline and a recent water stop, I can't find a good rhythm and going any faster than 10:00 minutes per mile is impossible. My strides are short and cadence slow, as my legs are made of lead, my feet of concrete and my lungs an unkempt vacuum cleaner bag.
Despite feeling the cold water cascading down my shirt and shorts in small waves that pulsate with each step, I scarcely feel refreshed and all I want to do is walk or stop all together. Unfortunately, doing so would only prolong my time in the 92 degree sun and with at least six miles left and the hottest part of the day approaching, I need to keep my legs churning...no matter how slowly the RPMs.
After three and a half days of running up and down the Middle Atlas' ridgelines, my body simply has no more to give. Halfway through the final leg of the third annual Marathon des Cedres, the only thing keeping my heavy feet moving is determination and gravity. Thankfully, the race's organizers realized that the latter would need to assist some of their participants during the final 14 miles and sympathetically designed the final leg with us in mind.
With 40 miles in the dusty rear-view, the final day of the four-day marathon was a fitting conclusion to a race that began in the scenic village of Zawia some 72 hours earlier. Through difficult conditions, friends - old and new - helped each other finish one of the more grueling races held in Morocco's mecca of endurance training: Ifrane. Despite the training plan that I recently outlined, I'm proud to say that I belonged to the group of those assisted and, as a result, I came away with one of my best Moroccan experiences to date.
My race experience was two-fold, split between the course's oft-grueling 54 miles and the campground's intimate atmosphere of camaraderie. To some degree, I expected the former; however, I was blown away by the latter and found it much more rewarding. Today, I'll recap the race and take a look at how my performance matched up with my expectations; tomorrow, I'll focus on the human aspect that made the race truly worthwhile.
Regarding the race, three topics are worth discussing: my plan, observations and recommendations. But let's start with my goals. I had three of them: (1) To have fun - accomplished, (2) Finish with an average pace of 8:30 minutes per mile (mpm) - not accomplished, and (3) Raise $2,000 for Team Red, White and Blue - accomplished. Given the race conditions, two out of three ain't bad!
I didn't end up accomplishing my second goal for a number of reasons; concerning my plan, three of the five outlined portions were skewed, flawed or not followed and led to a much longer running time than I expected. These sections were (1) Knowledge & Goal Setting, (2) Physical Training Plan and (5) Equipment & Monitoring Progress.
Regarding the first section, I think that I simply underestimated the course and the effects of the altitude, sun and trails. I knew that the conditions would significantly differ between Rabat and Ifrane, so I slowed my known rates accordingly (or so I figured). However, these conditions (among other factors) affected my pace goals more considerably than I planned. Overall, my intended average rate of 8:30 mpm ended up being about 10:30 mpm.
The first factor, altitude difference, significantly decreased my lung capacity, elevating my heart rate average. A second factor, the blazing sun, caused temperatures between 84 and 94 degrees, again elevating my heart rate average as my heart needed to pump more oxygenated blood to cool my overheated body. As a result, it took a lot more energy just to keep my body going in these conditions than what I was used to in Rabat; subsequently, I wasn't able to use that energy to keep my strides as long and cadence as fast.
Though not directly affecting my body's cooling system, the trails themselves affected my pace. About one-third of the course was run over goat trails with various grades. These trails were composed of skreet rock and uneven ruts that made finding a level footing and smooth rhythm nearly impossible. Even the downhill grades over these conditions caused most runners to walk in order to avoid a twisted ankle or hyper-extended ligament.
For the second section, I simply didn't follow my plan. Calling for three months of physical training, I didn't do any physical training for a whole month. Through the entire month of May, I totally deviated from my training plan (not running once), instead opting to enjoy the spoils of family and friends here and abroad. If followed, I'm confident that I would have cut at least 50 minutes from my total time (or roughly 1:00 mpm).
I under-minded the final section by my own foolishness and malaise. The night before the race, I lost my IPod and on the first morning of the race, my GPS battery died. Losing my IPod hit my motivation hard; being accustomed to drowning out heavy breathing with the distraction of music, it was difficult to keep up a better pace without fast-paced music streaming between my ears. Further, I spent a couple of hours creating a playlist that included dedications to each donor and a catalogue of every American Soldier killed in Afghanistan. Though worth every minute in front of the computer, it was discouraging not to be able to listen to it along the course.
Midway through the first day, my GPS battery died; although I knew its life was running low before the race, I simply didn't bring an extra battery. Thankfully, a supportive staff helped me out on the second day. Though I recovered from it on the third day, not having my GPS on the 20-mile second day proved difficult. Not knowing the course and its lack of mile markers caused a feeling of the unknown. As a result, it was difficult to push myself hard for fear of over-exertion. A GPS would have provided a little peace of mind and allowed me a more concrete method of knowing how much longer I had in the race then the method I was forced to use, which was little more than a calculation based on experience and my estimated pace.
Observations & Recommendations:
Almost 24 hours removed from the final mile, my feet, calves and knees ache. Only three of my toes escaped the wrath of blisters and calluses while both shin interiors are chafed from the slicing strides of over-pronated shoe heels. But, I only see these race results as I sit here typing; they'll soon go away and be forgotten. More memorable and lasting, however, is the race's spirit of camaraderie and the friendships made over the four days.
Trudging along around mile 32 on the second day.
Despite feeling the cold water cascading down my shirt and shorts in small waves that pulsate with each step, I scarcely feel refreshed and all I want to do is walk or stop all together. Unfortunately, doing so would only prolong my time in the 92 degree sun and with at least six miles left and the hottest part of the day approaching, I need to keep my legs churning...no matter how slowly the RPMs.
After three and a half days of running up and down the Middle Atlas' ridgelines, my body simply has no more to give. Halfway through the final leg of the third annual Marathon des Cedres, the only thing keeping my heavy feet moving is determination and gravity. Thankfully, the race's organizers realized that the latter would need to assist some of their participants during the final 14 miles and sympathetically designed the final leg with us in mind.
With 40 miles in the dusty rear-view, the final day of the four-day marathon was a fitting conclusion to a race that began in the scenic village of Zawia some 72 hours earlier. Through difficult conditions, friends - old and new - helped each other finish one of the more grueling races held in Morocco's mecca of endurance training: Ifrane. Despite the training plan that I recently outlined, I'm proud to say that I belonged to the group of those assisted and, as a result, I came away with one of my best Moroccan experiences to date.
The falls of Zawia provided a scenic start to our trek.
My race experience was two-fold, split between the course's oft-grueling 54 miles and the campground's intimate atmosphere of camaraderie. To some degree, I expected the former; however, I was blown away by the latter and found it much more rewarding. Today, I'll recap the race and take a look at how my performance matched up with my expectations; tomorrow, I'll focus on the human aspect that made the race truly worthwhile.
Finishing up the first day.
Regarding the race, three topics are worth discussing: my plan, observations and recommendations. But let's start with my goals. I had three of them: (1) To have fun - accomplished, (2) Finish with an average pace of 8:30 minutes per mile (mpm) - not accomplished, and (3) Raise $2,000 for Team Red, White and Blue - accomplished. Given the race conditions, two out of three ain't bad!
I didn't end up accomplishing my second goal for a number of reasons; concerning my plan, three of the five outlined portions were skewed, flawed or not followed and led to a much longer running time than I expected. These sections were (1) Knowledge & Goal Setting, (2) Physical Training Plan and (5) Equipment & Monitoring Progress.
Regarding the first section, I think that I simply underestimated the course and the effects of the altitude, sun and trails. I knew that the conditions would significantly differ between Rabat and Ifrane, so I slowed my known rates accordingly (or so I figured). However, these conditions (among other factors) affected my pace goals more considerably than I planned. Overall, my intended average rate of 8:30 mpm ended up being about 10:30 mpm.
The first factor, altitude difference, significantly decreased my lung capacity, elevating my heart rate average. A second factor, the blazing sun, caused temperatures between 84 and 94 degrees, again elevating my heart rate average as my heart needed to pump more oxygenated blood to cool my overheated body. As a result, it took a lot more energy just to keep my body going in these conditions than what I was used to in Rabat; subsequently, I wasn't able to use that energy to keep my strides as long and cadence as fast.
Sitting next to Lahsen after the second day, my body was overheated, even after showering in a few bottles of water at the finish line.
Though not directly affecting my body's cooling system, the trails themselves affected my pace. About one-third of the course was run over goat trails with various grades. These trails were composed of skreet rock and uneven ruts that made finding a level footing and smooth rhythm nearly impossible. Even the downhill grades over these conditions caused most runners to walk in order to avoid a twisted ankle or hyper-extended ligament.
For the second section, I simply didn't follow my plan. Calling for three months of physical training, I didn't do any physical training for a whole month. Through the entire month of May, I totally deviated from my training plan (not running once), instead opting to enjoy the spoils of family and friends here and abroad. If followed, I'm confident that I would have cut at least 50 minutes from my total time (or roughly 1:00 mpm).
At the end of the first day, Eric and I agree - this race is tough!
I under-minded the final section by my own foolishness and malaise. The night before the race, I lost my IPod and on the first morning of the race, my GPS battery died. Losing my IPod hit my motivation hard; being accustomed to drowning out heavy breathing with the distraction of music, it was difficult to keep up a better pace without fast-paced music streaming between my ears. Further, I spent a couple of hours creating a playlist that included dedications to each donor and a catalogue of every American Soldier killed in Afghanistan. Though worth every minute in front of the computer, it was discouraging not to be able to listen to it along the course.
Midway through the first day, my GPS battery died; although I knew its life was running low before the race, I simply didn't bring an extra battery. Thankfully, a supportive staff helped me out on the second day. Though I recovered from it on the third day, not having my GPS on the 20-mile second day proved difficult. Not knowing the course and its lack of mile markers caused a feeling of the unknown. As a result, it was difficult to push myself hard for fear of over-exertion. A GPS would have provided a little peace of mind and allowed me a more concrete method of knowing how much longer I had in the race then the method I was forced to use, which was little more than a calculation based on experience and my estimated pace.
The beginning of the 20-mile second day.
Observations & Recommendations:
- By day, the distances were about: 10 miles, 20 miles, 9.3 miles and 14 miles. Actual distances were difficult to measure due to differences in published numbers, a lack of GPS during the first couple days and the conspicuous absence of mile markers along the route.
- Each of the first three legs started off on trails and went uphill before finishing on smooth, flat or downhill roads. This format challenged each runner and separated the true "gazelles" from the city-trained participants.
- A little less than half of the course was covered by the area's cedar trees, offering a welcome reprieve from the unrelenting sun. However, long sections throughout each leg exposed us to the sun for periods up to 30 minutes, absolutely sapping strength and resolve.
- Teams and small groups of runners were faster than individuals, and there was no shortage of teamwork and encouragement from the participants.
- Race support along the route was awesome. All potential turns were marked by a staff member or a clear sign, and water was readily available. My fuel belt worked great and proved my best investment prior to the race, as no power gels or sport drinks were available along the route.
- Running on goat trails sucks and "off-roading it" during training is needed for a trail run to strengthen joints, tendons and ligaments as well as auxiliary muscles.
- Run your own race. Pride sometimes makes it difficult to keep a good (but slow) pace when people pass you. It's also tough not to walk when you see people in front of you doing it toward the end of a race. Though either may be good indicators to adjust your pace, feel your way through it and don't be overly pressured to do so. Everyone runs their own race.
Almost 24 hours removed from the final mile, my feet, calves and knees ache. Only three of my toes escaped the wrath of blisters and calluses while both shin interiors are chafed from the slicing strides of over-pronated shoe heels. But, I only see these race results as I sit here typing; they'll soon go away and be forgotten. More memorable and lasting, however, is the race's spirit of camaraderie and the friendships made over the four days.
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