Decker Challenge Half Marathon 2016 race report.
Decker! The race everybody loves to hate.
In order to keep me motivated in my Ironman Texas training, I figured I'd throw in a couple events, if I could find any that fit into my schedule. "My schedule". Did I mention I'm attempting Ironman self-coaching for the first time? It's going okay so far, but I strongly suspect my coach has no idea what she's doing.
Anyway, I hadn't run Decker in a while, so I forgot that I shouldn't want to do it. In fact, I realized I'd actually never DONE the Decker half marathon. I'd done Decker twice, and both times it was a 20k, before it became a half marathon. And the most recent time was 10 years ago. Evidently that's how long it takes me to forget how hilly and painful a race is.
But it seemed like a good idea, so I ramped my running distance back up to 14 miles to make sure I could still run at least 13.1. I did one hill repeat workout, and one long run that included running up Ladera Norte, which didn't really seem sufficient, but I was hoping my body hadn't completely forgotten those three hilly marathons I'd done in Tahoe. I didn't really do any "speedwork", other than a couple tempo runs where I tried to pick up the pace for 2-3 miles in the middle, so I didn't really have any expectations at Decker other than finishing. That seemed like a solid goal.
Karen gave me a ride out to the Expo Center, which means I felt obligated to do the two mile warmup that her group was doing. It was so foggy that we couldn't even really tell where we were going during the warmup, but it gave me a chance to figure out what I was going to wear.
People forget about the importance of warming up your jazzhands.
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
Decker is notorious for having bad weather. That usually means it's sleeting or really cold and windy. People were rejoicing that the weather was so great this year, none of the Decker curse. Everyone except me, anyway. It was almost 60 degrees, 100% humidity. HI, WEATHER I HATED ALL SUMMER. Okay, not QUITE that bad. It wasn't 80 degrees. But it was still 20 degrees warmer than I would have preferred.
After the warmup, I shed my long-sleeved shirt, hit the portapotty for a second time, and headed to the start line. They had pacers, which helped give some idea where you might want to start. I moved through the start chute until I got to the 2:10 pacer, and stopped there. I didn't know how realistic a finish time that was for me on this course, and I was secretly hoping I'd come in under 2 hours if things went well, but I didn't want to move up to the 2 hour pace group, because I'm not very good at starting a race on pace. I tend to start slower and pick up speed as I warm up. So I started just behind the 2:10 group, and that worked out really well.
The race started, and I felt pretty okay. We wound our way through the parking lot for almost a mile, then turned out onto the road. I was trying not to get caught up in other peoples' enthusiasm such that I went out too fast, and just ran comfortably, exchanging greetings with people I knew who were passing me or I was passing.
Then we turned onto Decker Lane, where we put the wind at our backs, and it was like someone threw a warm, wet blanket over my head. THIS is what all summer felt like. Ugh. As a bonus, Karen had said the first real hill was around mile 5, but really the entirety of Decker Lane that we ran on is uphill. Not super steep, but a very, very, very long uphill. And I've ridden that damn hill a trillion times in triathlons, but it takes a tiny fraction of the time to ride it as it does to run it. It takes forever to run it.
But I slogged my way up, then we finally turned and got some wind again. The turn was right around mile 4, where I took my first Gu and tossed the handheld water flask I'd carried through the first few miles. It's so rare I run with no handheld, and it felt kinda magical to do so for the next 9 miles.
The next turn was one of the ones you dread on a bike, aka Little Bastard, aka the No-Mo Hill (no momentum, because it's a downhill to a sharp right hand turn straight into an uphill, which really sucks on a bike). It wasn't so bad on the run, but somehow I'd never noticed the big, long hill that comes AFTER that hill, before you turn again. Why does everything seem so LONG when you're running rather than riding?!
Jazz hands! Right after Red passed me, obviously.
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
I kept myself entertained through this section by leapfrogging back and forth and back and forth with Kim and Julie. I'd passed them at the turn for Decker Lane, and then they'd passed me back after the next turn. Then for the remainder of the race, we just kept passing each other back and forth. I think it helped keep all of us entertained and motivated.
And Julie just behind me!
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
Also keeping me entertained was my head soundtrack. I had been joking before the race that usually the last song I heard before a race was the one I had stuck in my head the whole race. This can be really bad, like that time I had the national anthem stuck in my head for a 5k. This time as we ran out, they were playing Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', and indeed that was stuck in my head for 13 miles. Not 13.1, because one of the aid stations was playing Toto's Africa, which made a play for supremacy, but it didn't take, and Michael Jackson ran right back in.
I took my 2nd and final Gu shortly after mile 8, at the top of the interminable feeder road hill, where it started sprinkling again, but not enough to break up the humidity. Just enough to get my feet, which were a little wet from unavoidable puddles, even wetter.
Then a little downhill before the one-two punch of those notorious last hills. I don't have much to say about those. They weren't fun.
Okay, fine, MOSTLY they weren't fun. But Erin was sitting on the hill giving high fives while dressed up in a TRex costume, followed by a high five from Tom, who was not in a TRex costume. That part was fun. And then there was Josh. First, photographers who sit on steep uphills are jerks. Second, I'd already done jazz hands! I normally do jazz hands for Josh. I guess I could have done them again, but I panicked. I was running up a steep hill at mile 10 of a half marathon. I wasn't working with full mental capabilities. So I did this. Evidently.
Hills. Fog. That face. Sorry for ruining your pictures, Kim.
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
And then just a 5k left to go, which fortunately is mostly sort of comparatively flat. I was tired at that point, and my aforementioned wet feet were very obviously blistering on the sides and the bottoms, but I tried to keep my turnover high and just run as hard as I was still able.
After mile 12, we turned back onto Decker Lane again, and then back into the parking lot. We'd discussed how it was going to feel like you were almost done when you turn into the parking lot, but that there was still a lot of race left, but somehow even knowing that doesn't make it any less annoying. 3/4 mile of parking lot is a lot of parking lot. And it was too foggy and somewhat hilly to really see where we were going, and certainly you couldn't see the finish line until you were RIGHT up on it.
But then there was Karen! She yelled encouraging things at me and ran with me, and I tried to pick it up as much as I could, motivated by the finish line being so close! And as I closed in on it, passing the mile 13 marker, freaking KIM comes from behind me, tearing past me!
Now I had no goal of beating Kim. I was happy to have run so much of the race around Kim. She's a speedy runner, and if I can hang near a speedy runner, maybe I can be speedy, too! So I'd spent no time, even with all that flip flopping we'd done, worrying about beating Kim across the finish line. Didn't care. Except if someone comes flying by you in the last 0.1 of a half marathon, you're actually LEGALLY OBLIGATED to make an effort not to let them pass you! I believe I said something along the lines of, "Are you fucking KIDDING me, Kim?!" And then, even though I was fairly sure I was giving it all I could give already, and even though my blistered feet absolutely hated me, I managed to find another gear and push to keep up with her. Which I completely failed to do, and watched pull away and cross the finish line 4 seconds before me.
And then I crossed the finish line!
I hate this photo, but hey, it's how I looked!
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
I had intentionally never, ever looked at my watch while I was out there. I didn't want to know. I tried to always be making an effort I was happy with, and I was afraid if I looked at a mile split, I'd think it was too fast or too slow, and it would color the rest of my race. So I ran entirely on effort. As I crossed the finish line, I looked at the clock, which I knew was at least close to right, give or take some seconds, and it said 1:55:something!
I was super pleased that I could still pull off a sub-2 hour marathon after a year of many long and slow miles, and then a couple months of self coaching with no formal speedwork.
And I was EXTRA happy because this is a new Decker PR for me! Which is extra funny, because my previous Decker PR was for a 20k, so this was ~6 minutes faster, but also 0.7 miles longer.
Decker 20k 2005: 2:11:55.6 (10:38/M)
Decker 20k 2006: 2:00:59.8 (9:45/M)
Decker Half Marathon 2016: 1:55:32 (8:49/M)
Mostly, though, I was happy to push myself, happy to feel strong on the hills, happy to see so many friends again.
And happy I could still string together that many sub-9 minute miles in a row! And they were shockingly consistent, not completely falling apart at the end, with the last one as my fastest.
8:46, 8:42, 8:42, 8:43, 8:51, 8:56, 8:50, 8:43, 8:53, 9:04, 8:57, 8:49, 8:36
And a 7:38 pace for the last 0.1, which still wasn't enough to beat Kim! Exceeeeept.. remember that part where I passed Kim in the beginning? Turns out Kim started in front of me, so when all was said and done, I ended up beating Kim in overall time by 6 seconds! What? Of COURSE I looked!
Overall, it was a good race and I'm glad I did it. Now maybe I'll wait another 10 years to do Decker again.
In order to keep me motivated in my Ironman Texas training, I figured I'd throw in a couple events, if I could find any that fit into my schedule. "My schedule". Did I mention I'm attempting Ironman self-coaching for the first time? It's going okay so far, but I strongly suspect my coach has no idea what she's doing.
Anyway, I hadn't run Decker in a while, so I forgot that I shouldn't want to do it. In fact, I realized I'd actually never DONE the Decker half marathon. I'd done Decker twice, and both times it was a 20k, before it became a half marathon. And the most recent time was 10 years ago. Evidently that's how long it takes me to forget how hilly and painful a race is.
But it seemed like a good idea, so I ramped my running distance back up to 14 miles to make sure I could still run at least 13.1. I did one hill repeat workout, and one long run that included running up Ladera Norte, which didn't really seem sufficient, but I was hoping my body hadn't completely forgotten those three hilly marathons I'd done in Tahoe. I didn't really do any "speedwork", other than a couple tempo runs where I tried to pick up the pace for 2-3 miles in the middle, so I didn't really have any expectations at Decker other than finishing. That seemed like a solid goal.
Karen gave me a ride out to the Expo Center, which means I felt obligated to do the two mile warmup that her group was doing. It was so foggy that we couldn't even really tell where we were going during the warmup, but it gave me a chance to figure out what I was going to wear.
People forget about the importance of warming up your jazzhands.
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
Decker is notorious for having bad weather. That usually means it's sleeting or really cold and windy. People were rejoicing that the weather was so great this year, none of the Decker curse. Everyone except me, anyway. It was almost 60 degrees, 100% humidity. HI, WEATHER I HATED ALL SUMMER. Okay, not QUITE that bad. It wasn't 80 degrees. But it was still 20 degrees warmer than I would have preferred.
After the warmup, I shed my long-sleeved shirt, hit the portapotty for a second time, and headed to the start line. They had pacers, which helped give some idea where you might want to start. I moved through the start chute until I got to the 2:10 pacer, and stopped there. I didn't know how realistic a finish time that was for me on this course, and I was secretly hoping I'd come in under 2 hours if things went well, but I didn't want to move up to the 2 hour pace group, because I'm not very good at starting a race on pace. I tend to start slower and pick up speed as I warm up. So I started just behind the 2:10 group, and that worked out really well.
The race started, and I felt pretty okay. We wound our way through the parking lot for almost a mile, then turned out onto the road. I was trying not to get caught up in other peoples' enthusiasm such that I went out too fast, and just ran comfortably, exchanging greetings with people I knew who were passing me or I was passing.
Then we turned onto Decker Lane, where we put the wind at our backs, and it was like someone threw a warm, wet blanket over my head. THIS is what all summer felt like. Ugh. As a bonus, Karen had said the first real hill was around mile 5, but really the entirety of Decker Lane that we ran on is uphill. Not super steep, but a very, very, very long uphill. And I've ridden that damn hill a trillion times in triathlons, but it takes a tiny fraction of the time to ride it as it does to run it. It takes forever to run it.
But I slogged my way up, then we finally turned and got some wind again. The turn was right around mile 4, where I took my first Gu and tossed the handheld water flask I'd carried through the first few miles. It's so rare I run with no handheld, and it felt kinda magical to do so for the next 9 miles.
The next turn was one of the ones you dread on a bike, aka Little Bastard, aka the No-Mo Hill (no momentum, because it's a downhill to a sharp right hand turn straight into an uphill, which really sucks on a bike). It wasn't so bad on the run, but somehow I'd never noticed the big, long hill that comes AFTER that hill, before you turn again. Why does everything seem so LONG when you're running rather than riding?!
Jazz hands! Right after Red passed me, obviously.
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
I kept myself entertained through this section by leapfrogging back and forth and back and forth with Kim and Julie. I'd passed them at the turn for Decker Lane, and then they'd passed me back after the next turn. Then for the remainder of the race, we just kept passing each other back and forth. I think it helped keep all of us entertained and motivated.
And Julie just behind me!
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
Also keeping me entertained was my head soundtrack. I had been joking before the race that usually the last song I heard before a race was the one I had stuck in my head the whole race. This can be really bad, like that time I had the national anthem stuck in my head for a 5k. This time as we ran out, they were playing Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', and indeed that was stuck in my head for 13 miles. Not 13.1, because one of the aid stations was playing Toto's Africa, which made a play for supremacy, but it didn't take, and Michael Jackson ran right back in.
I took my 2nd and final Gu shortly after mile 8, at the top of the interminable feeder road hill, where it started sprinkling again, but not enough to break up the humidity. Just enough to get my feet, which were a little wet from unavoidable puddles, even wetter.
Then a little downhill before the one-two punch of those notorious last hills. I don't have much to say about those. They weren't fun.
Okay, fine, MOSTLY they weren't fun. But Erin was sitting on the hill giving high fives while dressed up in a TRex costume, followed by a high five from Tom, who was not in a TRex costume. That part was fun. And then there was Josh. First, photographers who sit on steep uphills are jerks. Second, I'd already done jazz hands! I normally do jazz hands for Josh. I guess I could have done them again, but I panicked. I was running up a steep hill at mile 10 of a half marathon. I wasn't working with full mental capabilities. So I did this. Evidently.
Hills. Fog. That face. Sorry for ruining your pictures, Kim.
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
And then just a 5k left to go, which fortunately is mostly sort of comparatively flat. I was tired at that point, and my aforementioned wet feet were very obviously blistering on the sides and the bottoms, but I tried to keep my turnover high and just run as hard as I was still able.
After mile 12, we turned back onto Decker Lane again, and then back into the parking lot. We'd discussed how it was going to feel like you were almost done when you turn into the parking lot, but that there was still a lot of race left, but somehow even knowing that doesn't make it any less annoying. 3/4 mile of parking lot is a lot of parking lot. And it was too foggy and somewhat hilly to really see where we were going, and certainly you couldn't see the finish line until you were RIGHT up on it.
But then there was Karen! She yelled encouraging things at me and ran with me, and I tried to pick it up as much as I could, motivated by the finish line being so close! And as I closed in on it, passing the mile 13 marker, freaking KIM comes from behind me, tearing past me!
Now I had no goal of beating Kim. I was happy to have run so much of the race around Kim. She's a speedy runner, and if I can hang near a speedy runner, maybe I can be speedy, too! So I'd spent no time, even with all that flip flopping we'd done, worrying about beating Kim across the finish line. Didn't care. Except if someone comes flying by you in the last 0.1 of a half marathon, you're actually LEGALLY OBLIGATED to make an effort not to let them pass you! I believe I said something along the lines of, "Are you fucking KIDDING me, Kim?!" And then, even though I was fairly sure I was giving it all I could give already, and even though my blistered feet absolutely hated me, I managed to find another gear and push to keep up with her. Which I completely failed to do, and watched pull away and cross the finish line 4 seconds before me.
And then I crossed the finish line!
I hate this photo, but hey, it's how I looked!
Photo by AzulOx Visuals
I had intentionally never, ever looked at my watch while I was out there. I didn't want to know. I tried to always be making an effort I was happy with, and I was afraid if I looked at a mile split, I'd think it was too fast or too slow, and it would color the rest of my race. So I ran entirely on effort. As I crossed the finish line, I looked at the clock, which I knew was at least close to right, give or take some seconds, and it said 1:55:something!
I was super pleased that I could still pull off a sub-2 hour marathon after a year of many long and slow miles, and then a couple months of self coaching with no formal speedwork.
And I was EXTRA happy because this is a new Decker PR for me! Which is extra funny, because my previous Decker PR was for a 20k, so this was ~6 minutes faster, but also 0.7 miles longer.
Decker 20k 2005: 2:11:55.6 (10:38/M)
Decker 20k 2006: 2:00:59.8 (9:45/M)
Decker Half Marathon 2016: 1:55:32 (8:49/M)
Mostly, though, I was happy to push myself, happy to feel strong on the hills, happy to see so many friends again.
And happy I could still string together that many sub-9 minute miles in a row! And they were shockingly consistent, not completely falling apart at the end, with the last one as my fastest.
8:46, 8:42, 8:42, 8:43, 8:51, 8:56, 8:50, 8:43, 8:53, 9:04, 8:57, 8:49, 8:36
And a 7:38 pace for the last 0.1, which still wasn't enough to beat Kim! Exceeeeept.. remember that part where I passed Kim in the beginning? Turns out Kim started in front of me, so when all was said and done, I ended up beating Kim in overall time by 6 seconds! What? Of COURSE I looked!
Overall, it was a good race and I'm glad I did it. Now maybe I'll wait another 10 years to do Decker again.