나는 더운 날씨가 좋아요: A Daegu Travelogue

Jeffrey writes from Daegu, South Korea in anticipation of Sunday’s World Championship Marathon.

Greetings from Daegu! After a busy summer of readying myself for this opportunity to represent the USA, I am only a few days away from the Marathon– I’m ready and very excited to compete! I have been in South Korea now for 8 days, and feel well-adjusted to the time change and climate. As I get ready for Sunday, here’s an abridged version of my experience in Daegu and a preview of what’s to come.


Life in Daegu

Since my arrival on August 25th, I have been staying in the Athlete Village complex. The enclosed campus consists of 9 high-rise apartment buildings, practice facilities (including a track and throwing areas), a shopping plaza and central dining hall. The Village conveniently backs up to the Geumhogang River, and we have been using the paved bike trail for our training runs. The new living quarters have been relatively comfortable, thanks in part to the air conditioning units. I am sharing an apartment-style suite with with the other U.S. marathoners– Nick Arciniaga, Mike Morgan, Sergio Reyes and Mike Sayenko— along with Americans Bernard Lagat (5,000M) and Trevor Barron (20K Racewalk). For the past week and a half, we have all gotten into our race week routines, mainly resting more with lighter training and workouts.

As anticipated, it has been hot and humid here. Even by 9:00 AM, the temperature is above 80 degrees and the high humidity and direct sunlight definitely make it feel warmer. While not the most comfortable conditions for training or racing, I feel well-adapted to the climate now and after training in extra layers this summer. I’ve explored outside the Village a little with the other marathoners, but because of the heat I haven’t spent too much time sightseeing or spectating races at the Stadium (we’ve been watching the Korean broadcast from our apartment).

The biggest difficulty for me thus far has been finding food. The Village dining hall, which the LOC assured could accommodate athletes with special dietary needs or restrictions, has been a total letdown. The buffet style set-up has had very little variation between daily meals and many of the courses are unidentifiable (although I did identify french fries, lima beans and leftover mac & cheese in Mike Morgan’s “Lasagna”). Vegans and vegetarians virtually have no options, as every dish has meat or seafood. Outside of the cafeteria, I have gone out for meals and have a slightly better experience, as it has been difficult to communicate my diet. I’ve settled for eating salads, veggies and rice. Thankfully, I packed some Raw Revolution Bars, trail mix and some Trader Joe’s Almond Butter.


The Team

We have a strong core group lining up for Sunday’s Marathon. As Nick‘s blog points out, all our athletes have run between 2:11:30 and 2:14:55 in the past 11 months. This bodes well for the World Cup Team Competition. Nick and Mike M. were also housemates of mine when we were training together in Michigan. Both of them are highly-experienced marathoners. Nick Arciniaga, 28, has steadily progressed in his 5 years of marathoning, setting his personal best of 2:11:30 in Houston this past January. Mike Morgan, 31, ran his PR of 2:14:55 at Chicago last year, and competed in a very hot and humid 2007 World Championships in Osaka, Japan. Additionally, Sergio Reyes and Mike Sayenko should bolster our squad for the World Cup Competition. Sergio, 29, proved himself to be the better marathoner last fall at Twin Cities by winning the U.S. Championship in 2:14:02. Sayenko, 27, finished 10th overall and 2nd American in 2:14:38 at Chicago last year.


Competition, Course and Conditions

The field includes some very strong contenders, as the IAAF Preview discusses here. Given that it’s a championship marathon, there are more variables than predictability in how the race will play out.

The Marathon course consists of two 15K loops and one 12.195K loop around downtown Daegu, both starting and finishing at the historic Gukchae-bosang Memorial Park. After previewing the course as a team and watching the Women’s Marathon last Saturday, it seems the lack of shade presents the biggest challenge. The roads are well-surfaced and relatively flat for what I am used to running on.

The weather remains to be the key variable on Sunday. With an average high of 86 degrees and 79% humidity for this time of year, Daegu proves to offer less than ideal conditions for marathoning. With a 9:00 AM Start, the daytime temperature will rapidly increase over the 2+ hours we are out running. Similar conditions in Osaka severely slowed down the Men’s Marathon in 2007.

To help cope with the heat, aside from me having regularly trained in sweats all summer, our team will be warming up before the race in cooling vests. These lightweight ice vests will help keep our core temperature down before the race begins. During the marathon we have fluid stations accessible every 5K of the race, with additional sponge and mist stations. Keeping hydrated early on will be extremely important, and I will have 6 bottles of Vita Coco Coconut Water out on the course.

Based on the most recent weather forecast, it appears to be cooling off:


Final Thoughts

There’s no better finale to the World Championships than the Marathon. I’m ready for Sunday and all the challenges it will present. It’s definitely an honor to put on a USA uniform and be an ambassador for my country in competition, although I’m also excited for what our team has the potential of accomplishing. Go USA!

As always, thanks to my family, friends and sponsors for all their support. I’ll look forward to sharing my memorable race with you! –JDE

The Roads Scholar Diaries

Jeffrey reflects on his eventful year of racing in 2010 and the profound impact of becoming an RRCA Roads Scholar.

In addition to the generous support of MarathonGuide.com and Brooks, The Road Runners Club of America helped play an integral role in my progress and athletic success in 2010. As one of this year’s Road Scholar Grant recipients, I was fortunate enough to receive financial assistance to use towards my development as a post-collegiate runner. As the year winds down, grant recipients are asked to write about their running careers since the time we applied in May. In these past 7 months, with the help of the Roads Scholar Grant, I have undergone a total metamorphosis as a runner. As I reflect back on my many racing adventures from 2010, I appreciate the role the RRCA played in my transition from an overzealous road racer– more casually referred to as a “road whore”– to a focused professional marathoner.

I remember having mixed emotions back in May, only days after I had anxiously submitted my Roads Scholar application. The excitement from my debut marathon in January had dissipated, and nagging injury problems during February had quelled my hopes of immediately building on January’s success. It came as a grave disappointment to indefinitely postpone all my racing plans, and I did not know how long my recovery would be. Weeks went by and I would continually test out my legs only to discover marginal improvements that were quickly reversed (in hindsight, I should have rested my body more from running while I was hurt). It was not until after Easter that I was finally able to run pain-free again each day, which came as a big relief. Finally healthy, I hastily resolved to jump back into racing as soon as I could, feeling an exigency to make up for all the racing opportunities that I had missed in early Spring.

So two weeks after formally resuming training, I traveled to Spokane for the Bloomsday Run. As a competition that is included annually in the Professional Road Running Organization (PRRO) Circuit, the Bloomsday 12K attracts a world-class international field each year. For me, it was pretty high-profile race to start a comeback with, however the very kind and hospitable race organization had me enthused to return to Spokane for a second year in a row. As I lined up for the race start downtown on Riverside Avenue, I saw the all the waves of runners lining up behind us and my pre-race jitters had once again returned. I thought to myself, it has been too long! Even with the electric feel of racing again, I ran a very conservative first half and moved my way up to finish 16th place overall and 4th American with a time of 36:44. It was an encouraging result, and my first time running under 5:00 mile pace in over 3 months. Going into the race, my fitness level had been a complete mystery to me, and thus I had soared over the low standard that I had set for myself. I was so enthralled with the result that I ran 10 more miles cool-down after the race to get in some “bonus” training.

Regardless of my Bloomsday result, I had planned to follow up with another race 2 weeks later– in San Francisco at the ING Bay to Breakers 12K. While also known for recruiting a very competitive international field, the Bay to Breakers is more widely renowned for its unique and festive race atmosphere. As excited as I was with this next racing opportunity, I also jumped at the chance to visit my sister and her husband, who live in the Bay. It was a quick weekend and I hardly spent any time with my feet up. The day before the race, I ran a brisk 12 miles around Crissy Field, went out to lunch with Beth and Matt for a delectable raw vegan meal at Café Gratitude and then spent a few hours strolling through the hippie shops in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. The next morning I rolled up and down the streets of San Francisco and into Golden Gate Park to finish 11th overall (and 3rd American) in 36:51. I felt it was another encouraging result, given that I was running into a headwind while being pelted with flying tortillas and nearly tripping in the first hundred yards over a pantless man carrying a briefcase. My experience validated the fact that Bay to Breakers is a race like no other.

Seven days after shivering through 12 kilometers in a singlet and shorts in the windy Bay area, I was 3 time zones away, running clear of my competitors in a hot and humid Medved Lilac 10K. It was a last-minute decision to visit home and run this race.  In March, I had planned a trip back to Rochester to defend my St. Patrick’s Day 5-mile title, although those aspirations were hampered by my ongoing ailments. As if returning to Rochester and winning upstate NY’s largest 10K wouldn’t be redeeming enough, the Lilac 10K was the only major race in my hometown that I hadn’t won (or competed in). With past champions like John Tuttle, Keith Brantley and Chris Fox, I was anxious to add a Lilac victory to my running résumé. Additionally, a great deal of pride and prize money were at stake. After a mile of inconspicuously observing the other athletes in our whittling lead pack, I pushed by the Ethiopian favorite and soloed home the final 5 miles. It was far from a graceful victory and I remember gritting it out for the final mile and a half, heading up a few rolling hills on the return into Highland Park and winning in a modest time of 30:09. Ten miles cool-down and an hour later, I was star-struck shaking hands with Dick Beardsley at the awards ceremony. Eight hours later, I was back in Flagstaff feeling over-exhausted and numb from travel.

By then, my racing appetite had grown insatiable. If I found a race with prize money and a means to get to the starting line, it was on my radar. In fact, I was committing to races without thinking about how I could train for them (the perfect example being the Mt. Washington Road Race). It probably would have been better for me not to include hard workouts between weekend races, and yet I was running mid-week workouts with the same intensity and volume as during my Phoenix marathon training.

The month of June tested my endurance as much with travel as it did with racing. In the first weekend I flew out to Des Moines, IA for a 20K. As we lined up en masse at the Saylorville Dam under torrential rains, I noticed this small-town road race with a generous prize purse was not the well-kept secret that I thought it would be. It took me 10 miles to catch enough race casualties to make my first trip to Iowa a relative success, as if earning prize money delineated success from failure. I didn’t think any more about my race, and blocked out the fact that it was my slowest 20K result on record.

The weekend after Iowa’s Distance Classic, I flew back east for 2 races on the New England running circuit: the Litchfield Hills and Mt. Washington Road Races. In the days before Litchfield while I was in Flagstaff, I ran a debilitating mile repeat workout on Snow Bowl Road that left me feeling largely under the weather by the time I arrived in the sticks of Connecticut. However, thanks to the friendly locals and other visiting athletes, I was distracted enough not to dwell on my lethargic state. The race proved to be a dogfight though, and I was part of a large front group as we entered the trail portion of the course. I pushed hard at the front while Julius Kiptoo, who I had met and raced at Bloomsday, patiently bided his time. I  remember relinquishing the lead as we passed a cemetery, and Julius pulled ahead with the ominous and steep hill on Gallow’s Lane just ahead. The effort up Gallow’s (a foreshadowing of my Mt. Washington experience) was extremely difficult and incredibly taxing, which resulted in my dropping 2 positions in the final mile.  It was neither a great result, nor an overly-disappointing run. However in the following days, my sore throat evolved into a deep congested cough and a headache. Against better logic, I jumped on a Greyhound Bus to Vermont to put the nail in my coffin…

The surprising news came days after I had arrived back in Flagstaff, still a little congested and completely disillusioned by my mountain running debacle. I received a call from Jean Knaack of the RRCA, and was pleasantly taken aback by her news of my selection as a Roads Scholar. When I had submitted my application for the Grant, I had doubted my legitimacy as a candidate, given how many post-collegiate athletes were healthy and running well on the roads. At the same time, I had remotely hoped that my marathon debut had not been totally eclipsed. It came much to my surprise that I was named one of the five finalists. To be recognized as a Roads Scholar was not only an honor, but it marked a turning point for me. I knew the Grant would provide me with the financial resources to focus on my training without getting caught up in chasing prize purses every weekend, as I had been doing. During June, I had committed to run in October’s U.S. Marathon Championship in Twin Cities. I recognized that the only way I was going to succeed at a U.S. Championship– and particularly in the marathon– would be if I directed my focus towards the preparation. This Grant would enable me to do that.

I finished up my racing in early July, returning to Iowa for a second place finish at the Fifth Season 8K, and ran on fumes a week later in my final race at the Utica Boilermaker. Just as it had been for 3 months, my race performances were consistent, but far from exceptional. I was in dire need of a break from racing, and just needed time to train and work on my craft as a marathoner.

The summer flew by, and I was responding quickly to the workouts Coach Jack had given me to prepare for Twin Cities (he used a training schedule he adapted from working with 2:23 marathoner Lisa Martin). While training progressed, I had started getting blood work done to monitor my hematological values. It was interesting to have this data as feedback, and develop a more scientific understanding of how my body was responding to my training. My blood work also confirmed that I was taking in and sustaining adequate levels of nutrients from my vegan diet (compelling data for me personally that disproved the common misconceptions about veganism).

As I have mentioned in past blog entries, I incorporated a few races into my marathon program to work on running hills (Snow Bowl Road and Jerome) and racing under tough conditions (Parkersburg). These select races really helped to keep my routine dynamic, and I appreciated the moderate exposure to competition while training remained as the primary focus. Both Snow Bowl and Jerome were nice confidence builders, where I was able to run away from my competitors and redeem myself as a climber. Parkersburg was in every sense a “rust-buster,” where I had to manage myself in difficult racing conditions against tough competitors, and simply experience the feeling of “grinding the gears.” After those races, I went into the Twin Cities Marathon as a stronger hill runner and felt more capable of handling increased levels of discomfort. I can conclude without any doubt that shifting my focus from racing to training during the Summer helped me make the podium at Twin Cities this Fall and qualify for next year’s World Championships.

Thanks to the RRCA Roads Scholar Program, I was able to make major strides towards the end of 2010 and in my second marathon. I felt that their supporting my continuing education as a marathoner has helped bring me closer to realizing my potential, particularly when I am focused and thinking of my running career in a more long-term context. As I enter 2011 I will be taking my new perspective with me, instilled with the belief that I can and will break through, as many tenacious Roads Scholars in the past have. But I will always look back on this year fondly and with gratitude, remembering how and where it began, and those who made it possible.

Again I am reminded that the journey is more important than the destination.

–JDE

Twin Cities Marathon

Here’s my unabridged recap of finishing 2nd at the 2010 US Men’s Marathon Championship at the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon.

I could see my breath during my routine shakeout run before 5AM on race morning. It was calm and brisk out as I jogged in darkness through downtown St. Paul, but I knew in a few hours that the sun’s presence would raise the temperature to 40°F and create the perfect Fall marathon racing conditions.

I ate breakfast quietly back in my hotel room, having a generous bowl of Hemp Plus Granola with Silk. The previous evening, I had eaten copious amounts of pasta, bread sticks and salad at the athlete dinner. Aside from the 4 bottles of Cytomax Natural Citrus I had waiting for me on the marathon course, these meals were my sole fuel sources for the race. After a few cups of coffee (using my new French press travel mug that Ali got me), I felt equally nourished and alert. At 6:00AM, it was time for me to depart for the race. I kissed Ali goodbye, packed my bag and braved myself for the morning that I had anticipated for so many months.

At the athlete staging area, I went through my active-isolation rope stretching routine while listening to my ipod (beats from my “Marathizzle” hip-hop playlist ).  Around 30 minutes before the race, I joined former teammate and Flagstaff roommate Mike Reneau for an easy warm-up run, afterwards doing some surges at marathon pace to wake the legs up. With 15 minutes until race time, I switched into all my racing gear: my MarathonGuide.com singlet, my lightweight Smith Optics racing sunglasses,  CEP Compression socks and a newly-minted pair of Brooks Green Silence. The cooler morning temperature also called for gloves and arm-warmers to help keep me running warm and fluid.

The start  was uneventful for me. Once we received the anticlimactic send-off, I tucked in to a large group and observed as a few other athletes made their ambitions known by maneuvering to the front. Just as well, I thought, the real race won’t begin until about 30K.

Just as I had for the Rock’n’Roll Marathon in Phoenix, I came down from altitude less than 2 days prior to the race. Again, I knew that it would take the early miles to adjust to running at sea level, and that I should ease into my marathon effort naturally and establish a comfortable breathing pattern. The first few miles clicked off slowly, but I ignored my watch and followed my breathing while my muscles were also warming up for the race ahead. Passing 5K in 16:11, I was in a second chase group with many of the favorites, and could still make out the tête de la course down the road. We were winding our way by the Lake of the Isles, the first of four lakes we would encounter in the first half of the race. I knew I was in good position and out of trouble. Any energy I could conserve now would work to my advantage later on.

During the next few miles, we lost sight of the early leaders and we were still well behind the chase group, which I felt contained a few dangerous athletes (Reneau in particular). Cabada took the initiative to start organizing an effort to bring back the chase, and we traded miles to share the work. Simon Sawe and Mbarak Hussein were also very helpful in contributing to the effort. After grabbing my Cytomax bottle at mile 5, I took my turn up front. I usually refrain from talking during a race, but I felt that our communicating was vital in preventing a huge tactical error. I told Hussein that by 10K we should be in range of the group ahead.

Sure enough, we joined Reneau’s chase group between 10K and 7 miles. It didn’t require a major increase in effort to catch the group (we were 32:11 at 10K), and I suspected they had possibly slowed down. Even so, I realized that we needed to continue our gradual momentum forward and not allow the leaders too much more distance. Up the road and over 40 seconds ahead were Dave Jankowski, Seth Pilkington and Luke Watson– three athletes I felt were very capable contenders and needed to be taken seriously.

It was as if I were back in July, watching a long stage of the Tour de France. Was the break away going to survive today? Given the personnel of marathon veterans in my group (Reneau, Hussein, Sawe, Cabada and Reyes), I felt it would be very difficult for any athlete to run away from our group and live to tell about it. As it turned out, we continued our organized effort past Lake Harriet and on the rolling Minnehaha Parkway. I hardly took notice of the colorful canopy of trees that had caught my attention the previous day on the course tour. I was focused on the task at hand.

The half-marathon point was reached in 1:07:21. We had caught Watson and Seth while rounding Lake Nokomis with a few miles around 5:00 and were approaching a sharp turn back onto the Parkway. Staying in the front end of my group, I was unaware of any athletes falling back. As we made the turn, I saw a few others were laboring to keep up, including Simon “Skips” Sawe. At mile 14, we split 4:55, even with the slight incline running back on the Parkway. The pace did not feel any more difficult, but I resolved to keep patient for at least a few more miles. I took another Cytomax bottle at mile 15 to keep hydrated. Jankowski was still over 30 seconds ahead, although he no longer had anyone helping him.

It’s hard to recall who controlled the pace during the next 3 miles.  I ran side by side with Reyes, then Cabada and before I knew it our trio had pulled away from Hussein, Reneau, Sawe and Tyler Sygl (who we had been up front with Jankowski earlier). Dave’s orange jersey had become increasingly visible so we knew we were going to make the catch soon. I took over at 17 and was anxious to test out the legs. I didn’t realize until later that we split 4:47. I was still feeling fresh, and it appeared Reyes and Cabada were too.

During the stretch on West River Road, we were accompanied by a motorbike, which I learned later was doing live video coverage of the race until their camera died. Directly in front of the race was a trolley, which served as the official press vehicle. While I was aware of both their presences, my focus was on catching Jankowski and thinking about when I would try to test my competitors again.

At 30K (1:34:44), the catch had been made and our group of 3 was pulling away from Zap Fitness’ intrepid debutant. Now it was up to us to sort out our places on the podium. I still had a step lead at mile 19, as we turned onto the bridge to cross the Missippi, but I never picked up more than a stride on either Sergio or Fernando. We reached the 20 Mile mark together in 1:41:31, still with poker faces under our sunglasses. Once the infamous hill leading to Summit Avenue began, I knew it was again time to test out both their legs and mine.

I had prepared myself for running hard uphill all summer in Flagstaff. I raced up Snow Bowl Road, climbed up Jerome, had several training runs up Mt. Elden and would wring all the effort out of my legs each Sunday in long runs coming back up Lake Mary Road’s rollers. I worked relentlessly to make my own vulnerability in climbing a strength. Having studied the Twin Cities course and profile, I was well aware of how decisive the final 10K would be; the advantage would be given to the stronger hill runner.

At 20.6 I took my final Cytomax bottle. The station came a little later than I had wanted (I prefer not to take any drink during the final 30 minutes), but a few sips ensured I would not run low on electrolytes or succumb to muscle cramping. I lead the way by a step up the hill, and could hear Cabada’s heavy breathing over my own. As we crested the climb, I felt the increased effort but knew I was not alone.

I think any athlete having a dream of winning this race wants to taste the lead entering Summit Avenue. Still leading by half a stride, I was the first to make the highly anticipated left-hand turn. The crowd presence and excitement of leading encouraged me to dig into the slight upgrade. I knew Cabada was faltering but Sergio had given little sign of discomfort. Between 22 and 23, he moved even with me and then took over the lead. I responded as quickly as I could, but a gap was beginning to form.

Having often been asked why I train alone, I explain that the critical moments in the marathon come when you are by yourself and you alone have to decide whether to push forward or settle in. I like to think that working out independently has challenged me each time to make the conscious choice to push forward. Once gapped by Reyes, I was again left to decide whether I would fight or fold.

Miles 24 and 25 were agonizing. Both my legs and arms burned, and I felt I had to consciously focus on directing each stride forward and drive my arms without overreaching. With a mile to go, the gap was around 9 or 10 seconds and I knew I could not wait. I just kept grinding… past the growing crowds and with the State Capital coming into view.

As I barreled down the hill towards the finish, I ignored the sharp pains in my quads generating from the impact of each footstrike. I was in the highest gear I could manage, not only with the ambition of trying to run down the race leader, but in an effort to make sure Cabada did not employ his superior track speed to take away the final automatic World Championship spot. Even after Sergio took the final strides up and broke the finish banner, I continued to red-line my engine and reduce his victory to 7 seconds. As I crossed the line, I hadn’t even noticed I had run a new PR.

I was spent after the race, on my hands and knees. I only knew Ali was with me when I recognized her boots. I was escorted to the medical tent and then directly to drug testing. When it came time for the awards ceremony, I was over the heartbreak of finishing runner-up by 7 seconds, and smiling about my 2:14:09 PR and World Championship berth.

Looking back on the race, I really have no regrets with how I ran. I wanted to win, and I tried everything I could in the final third of the race (my body is telling me that now as I write this 4 days later). If anything, I had to use every ounce of energy in me to make Sergio’s victory a 7-second margin. And I’m extremely proud to have established a new personal best time (running a negative split on a challenging course) and also qualify for next year’s World Championships. In my second marathon, I have clearly made some progress. And I don’t believe this will be the last time I fight for a US title.

For now, I will enjoy my downtime and continue to reflect on my racing experience. At the same time, I am already hungry and looking forward to my next chapter in the marathon.

In closing, thanks again to my faithful family, friends and sponsors. Your support has carried me this far, and the best is yet to come! –JDE