This weekend, I’m headed back to Epcot for the food and wine festival. This time, I’m going to truly experience the food and wine without the running. That’s why I’m cramming most of my running into the rest of the week. I plan on having lots of fun this weekend.

I jogged around a cross country meet on Friday following my daughter and it felt stiff, but certainly runnable. Saturday I did a 2 mile shake out run around the Caribbean Beach Resort at Disney and things went very nicely. I spent most of Saturday walking around Epcot, taking in parts of the Food and Wine festival. That worked out pretty well since I got to experience a series of small snacks instead of one big meal. On the way back to the hotel, I was pretty nervous, though. I took a shower to relax, laid out everything for the morning and set up a wake up call for 5 am.

Upon waking, I dressed quickly, grabbed an orange juice and one of my homemade energy bars, and drove to the finish at Epcot. There, I boarded a bus to the starting line at Disney’s Wide World of Sports. I went a little minimalist today, opting to leave the hat and sunglasses at home. When I arrived at the start, I attached my timing chip and bib, ate my energy bar, drank my OJ and then set out for a few slow laps around the parking lot. As planned, this loosened up the bowels and I hit the Port O’ Potty with plenty of time to spare. I then ran a few short strides to get my body used to my goal pace, then headed to the starting line 10 minutes before the gun.

The mood at the starting line is kind of quiet. They’re playing food related songs, so we get to hear the likes of “Eat It”, and “Addicted to Spuds”. After a few minutes, we get to the National Anthem and there is absolute silence. It’s still dark. There are electric lights illuminating the mob of 2600+ people. The start is broken into corrals based on expected pace on the honor system. I line up at the front of the second corral, which is 7:01 - 9:00 per mile. The 7:00 and below corral fairly empty, so I’m pretty near the front. I”ll cross the start a few seconds after the gun, but it doesn’t look like anyone in front of me is going to impede my progress. After the anthem, the race host asks us to raise our hands if it’s our first 5K. I raise mine and the lady in front of me congratulates me.

“I haven’t finished it yet,” I say.

She laughs, points to the corral in front of us and says, “well, you look like you should be up there”. I agree that I look faster than I am, but simply remark that I’ve just never gotten around to running a 10K before, though I have run a marathon.

Before we know it, fireworks are flashing over the starting gate and we’re set free. I cross the line 8 seconds after the official gun time and start my watch. As is usually the case, the beginning is about jostling for position and getting into a rhythm. I find myself running at sub 7 minute mile pace, but breathing easily. I relax into a 3-3 rhythm and carefully pick my way through the pack. At the entrance to the wide world of sports, we make a left turn and the pack is pretty strung out. I see the 1 mile mark in the distance and subconsciously switch to a 2-2 breathing rhythm. This worries me a little, but it is a race after all, so I just go with it. I pass 1 mile in exactly 7:15 according to my watch.

We continue down the road and I fall in behind a shirtless guy who looks a little like the Mummy from the Brenden Frazier movie. We veer left down an exit ramp. I pick up speed on the incline, but there’s a hairpin turn at the bottom, so I slow my pace gently to avoid slipping on the wet asphalt at the bottom. We dash under an overpass where the first water station awaits. I’ve mad a point to hydrate myself in the previous day and I don’t plan on taking in any water during the race, so I drift to the middle of the road and cruise through the water station. I pass many runners in the process.

Beyond the overpass, we’re running pretty much single file now. We cruise under the Disney Studios sign and into the parking lot approach. We pass the 2 mile mark. My watch reads 14:27. I’m 3 seconds under my planned pace. A few more turns takes us into a backstage area of the Disney Hollywood Studios. We eventually emerge alongside the Lights, Motors Action stunt show. A right turn takes us directly through the actual stunt area of the show. In fact, we’re on the Jumbotron! The guy directly in front of me whips out his cell phone to get a picture of himself on the Jumbotron. I pass him. I don’t look to see myself on the Jumbotron, but he probably has a good shot of me passing him.

Once outside of the stunt show, we continue up New York Street, then make a left turn at the end. We pass the 3 mile mark here. My watch reads 21:34. I’m 9 seconds ahead of my planned pace now. I increase my pace to break my previous 5K record and I pass 5K in 22:19 - an 11 second PR. I think back to my last 5K and how tired I was at the end. I think about how I’ve just beaten that time and I’m still running, feeling relatively good.

We continue up a slight incline to the center of the Studios. We round the giant Mickey sorcerer hat, then continue around the lake and toward the main entrance. There, we take a sharp left briefly into a backstage area, then a right turn out of the park. Cruising across the entrance area, we turn onto a narrow pathway that leads to the Boardwalk resorts. We’re 3.5 miles into the race and I’m really starting to feel it now. I slow myself a little to recover and focus on keeping my legs moving. I pass the 4 mile mark in just under 29 minutes. I’m still a few seconds below my pace, but I’ve developed a side stitch in the right side of my chest. It’s not horrible, so I focus on slow deep breaths. I let my belly expand, then force the air out by flexing my abs tightly. The stitch is still there, but it’s no longer sharpening. Now, I develop another stitch in my left abdomen.

“Great,” I think two at once, “how nice!”. Before it gets out of hand, I relaxed, relieve my pace just slightly and focus on my breathing. We hit a bridge, which provides a relatively steep incline. The incline distracts me from the stitched and forces me to focus even more in by breathing: in-in, out-out. in-in, out-out. When the bridge levels out, the stitches are gone and I increase my cadence down the other side.

I”m still feeling somewhat out of breath, but I keep breathing deeply and I keep my legs moving all the way around the lake passed the Yacht Club and the Beach Club, up another bridge, and toward Epcot. We take a left, then a right and enter Epcot through a backstage area between the Great Britain and Canada Pavilions in the World Showcase. Again, I drift to the middle of the course as I approach another water stop and pass a few more runners who’ve slowed to grab a drink. I run through Great Britain, and up another bridge toward France. As I’m climbing the incline of the bridge, my body begins to retch and a wave of nausea comes over me.

“Crap,” I think, “I don’t have time to puke”. I gag once, but nothing comes out. I take a deep breath, crest the bridge and it’s gone as soon as it came. I see the 5 mile marker and I’ve lost time. My watch reads around 35:30. I’m 15 seconds off my planned pace, I’ve just nearly puked and I”m very out of breath. If I want to hit my goal, I’ve got to haul ass.

I increase my cadence on the other side of the bridge, taking advantage of gravity. At the bottom, I don’t let up. The ground level out, but my legs keep moving. I’m in familiar territory. In addition to having walked this way last night, the 5 mile mark of this race is in the same place as the 25 mile mark of the marathon. The last 1.2 miles here are the same as the last 1.2 miles of the marathon. Last January, I walked this path in severe pain, my head held low. I felt defeated. Since that day, I have visualized myself running this path many, many time. During the last mile of my training runs, I often picture myself running by each country of the world showcase one by one. Each country brings me closer to the finish. I always picture myself busting out a crazy pace over this distance.

That’s paying off now. Above the waist, I feel like crap. My face is sweaty and red. My abdomen and chest are heaving, trying to suck as much air as possible. My legs feel light, though. They are moving like the pistons of a steam engine. I’m not entirely sure they’re still attached to my body, but the rest of me seems to be moving forward with them, so I guess they are. Unlike my previous race around this mile, my chest is forward and my head is held high. I’m pulling those 15 seconds back.

As I fly past country after country, I pass a few more runners. We’re pretty spread out now. I finally reach Mexico and turn into Future World now. The giant silver ball of Spaceship Earth looms in front of me. I know the 6 mile mark is ahead and I surge forward toward it. Unfortunately, it’s not exactly where I expected it. I pass Spaceship Earth and run into a backstage area before seeing the 6 mile mark: 43 minutes, 34 seconds. I’ve pulled back a lot of time, but I had told myself I needed to hit this marker in 43:30. Furthermore, the location of the marker has thrown me off a bit. I feel I should be sprinting toward the finish now, but I can’t even see it yet.

My body retches again and I slow just slightly. There are a lot of people here and I sure as hell don’t want to puke in front of them, only 300 yards from the finish. Again, the feeling passes as quickly as it came and I round a corner to the finishing chute. I can see the time ticking off and I push my legs as fast as they will go. The clock ticks past 45 minute and I cross the line seconds later. My gun time is 45:03, but thanks to the 8 seconds it took me to cross the start, my official chip time registers 44:55 (the same as my watch). I’ve made my goal by 5 seconds.

After getting my chip removed and my medal, I stop for a quick picture, then grab a powerade and a water. I watch the other competitors finish as I consume my liquids. I’m quite literally dripping sweat. There is a growing puddle underneath me. Eventually it all sinks in. I realize the sun has risen at some point during the race, though I can’t remember when. I realize I covered the last 1.2 miles in roughly 1/3 of the time it took me during the marathon. I realize I’ve broken my 5K record and then run another 5K. I realize I have a 10K time that will earn me a better corral location for the half marathon in January. I finish my water and head back to the hotel. Mission accomplished.

I finished 62nd out of over 2600 finishers. I was 4th out of 148 in my age group…missed an age group award by 28 seconds, but beating 45 minutes was sweet enough for me. I’ll post pics when they’re available.

Next week, I’ve got a 10K race (my first). So, I’ll probably run in the low 30s next week. I’ve got one speed workout on Tuesday and I’ll substitute the race for my second quality workout of the week.

On another note, I inadvertently ran the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure for the second straight year. During my long run, I ran right into the race. Fortunately, I was able to stay on sidewalks and seawalls…working my way around the crowd. It was actually an interesting 2 miles or so and I ran them fast. I finished my 11 miles at an 8:40 pace…good news for running the half marathon at 8:00 pace in January.

My current goal is to run the 10K in 45 minutes. It’s going to be close.

The butterflies are in my stomach. I manage to eat some toast and wonder why the hell I do this to myself. It’s not pleasant, you know. It never ends. You can say that it gets easier every time, but it doesn’t. Before one pace seems comfortable, I want to push myself to go faster. Why? I could be sleeping.

I drive in the darkness, or ride a bus, or walk. Eventually, I arrive at some designated point where a bunch of other crazy people like me are converging like zombies in the darkness. If it’s not too early, the sun might actually be rising. That’s nice to watch, but sometimes it’s still pitch black.

Why are we here again? We’ve made a conscious decision to leave the comfort of our beds for 15 minutes, or 30 minutes, or 1 hour, or 5 hours of discomfort. Why do I do this? Am I insane? Is it that the thought of finally running down a tall Kenyan runner in the last 100 m of a marathon race inside a stadium full of 80,000 screaming fans on August 12, 2012 is so strong that it drives me to do this, even though the possibility of that actually happening is less than the chances of being struck by lightning or winning the lottery. Is it that I think I might be able to turn these moments of discomfort into some kind of business success? Am I addicted? Like the smoker or the alcoholic, would I go through some kind of withdrawal if I didn’t do this?

I’m never sure. I don’t know if I’ll ever know for sure why I do this. It always seems so counter-intuitive in the darkness before the sun rises. It seems like such a better option to just get back in bed, hug my wife and fall back asleep. But, I don’t. I always tell myself that once I’m finished, I’ll be happy I did this - and I always am.

As for me, I just wanted to relax and test myself and an increased pace. Other than a few strides here and there, I haven’t really done any speedwork since April - even though I’ve been averaging about 40 miles per week…

The start is a grouping of about 40 people. I stroll all the way to the back since it’s really nto a big deal here. I know there won’t be any walkers and the high school runners are going to take off fast. A guy named Steve comes up and chats me up a bit. We’re still chatting when the gun goes off. In the confusion, I forget to start my watch. I hang at the very back of the pack (last overall, actually) for a lap around the track. Although my watch isn’t working, I can still see my pace and I see I’m covering a 6:30/mile pace even at the back of the pack. I know a good many of the 6th and 7th grade runners are going to poop out quickly.

After rounding the track, we exit the stadium. Away from the crown in the stadium, the pace settles a bit. I find a 6th grader named Nick who I heard averaged 7 minute miles in a 2 mile warmup earlier in the week, and I follow him hoping he’ll pace me through the first two miles. After about a hundred feet, I realize that he’s slowed his pace significantly and I have to shuffle to stay behind him. I decide to pass and set my sites on the only other two parents I’ve yet to leave behind.

One of them is Steve. I catch up to him and follow him around the campus. Once we reach the far side of campus, we have to watch for cars. There are signs that a race is in progress, but the road is open so people can pick their kids up from aftercare and the occasional car passes by. We cruise by the lower division and the kindergartners in aftercare are at the fence cheering us on. We pass them quickly and reach the baseball stadium. We round the fence surrounding the field and a pond that’s beyond the outfield, reaching the cross country coaches at the 1 mile mark. I pass it in 7:15. Basically right on pace.

We pass a few hedges, then make a quick hairpin turn through a hole in the hedgerow and emerge back on the track in the football stadium. Steve catches a glimpse of me as we make the turn.

“There you are,” he says.

“Are you talking to me?” I ask.

“Yeah, I was wondering where you went”.

“The start was a little fast for me, so I held back for a while”.

I’m feeling pretty good for the pace, but I’m not really in the mood to talk. That doesn’t stop him. We round the track and back out of the stadium for lap two of the campus. He asks me how often I run, how I liked the Disney marathon, etc. I manage to answer him and even joke a bit. I’m a little annoyed. Conversation is great during a slow training run, but this is a race. Of course, it’s not exactly the Olympics. It is just a fun run and we’re really here to support the kids and I’m making an effort to be more relaxed at races this year, yada yada yada. We round the corner to the far side of campus again just as a car pulls in. We follow it down the main campus road.

“Hey, we have a car to follow,” I joke.

“Yeah, we can draft off it,” says Steve.

We pass the baseball stadium and the pond again, then round the turn through the hedgerow and back onto the track. We pass the 2 mile mark here, but I don’t see the timer…and quite frankly I’m not really worried about it. I find that the track feels good compared to the grass that makes up a lot of the course. I guess I’m just used to running on harder surfaces. I feel like I need to pick my feet up higher in the grass, which slows my cadence a little. As we round the track, my daughter is holding two cups of water out. I figure I’ve got to learn to drink without stopping at some point so I might as well give it a try now. I grab a cup from her hand as I run past (I actually speed up for some reason) and I take one big gulp, nearly choke, but recover, then throw the rest of the cup to the ground.

My mid-water acceleration has put me a few feet ahead of Steve as we exit the stadium for lap three of the campus. I’m certainly feeling discomfort, but the acceleration didn’t actually feel so bad, so I stick with it. I look ahead at some faltering runners ahead and set my sites on them. I slowly reel them in as we approach the far side of campus. Then, I start to pick them off one by one. I wonder if I’ve left Steve far behind, but a quick glance at a turn shows me that he’s remained just a few feet behind, picking off the runners right there with me.

We round the baseball field and the pond one last time. I’m right on two runners as he make the turn through the hedgerow onto the track. I slow to avoid running into them. Steve takes an outside line and passes me. We quickly dispatch the two runners at the hedgerow and charge onto the track for the final lap. I’m tucked in right behind Steve as he pulls in two more runners. He takes the outside again, just as one of the runners pushes outside to pass his partner. This trips Steve up a little and I accelerate on the inside, pushing into my final kick.

I leave Steve and the two other runs behind as I speed around the last turn, then turn off the track and into the infield finishing shoot. I’m a little confused about where the actual finish line is and I stop about 5 feet short, but I still finish in 22:33 - a new personal record.

Overall, I’m pretty happy with the run. It’s the most comfortable I’ve ever felt during a 5K race. I’ve got a few months worth of speedwork coming up and it doesn’t seem nearly as intimidating any more. Hopefully with the speedwork I do in the next month and the confidence gained from this race, I’ll be able to pull off a 45 mionute 10K in October.

That wouldn’t be true at all, though. The truth is that I’ve found these sporting contests extraordinarily inspiring. I’ve spent my mornings running and I’ve been loving it. At the time of my last post, I was pulling 28 mile weeks. I’ve since moved up to 33 miles per week. I’m currently in week 3 of a 24 week half marathon training plan that I’ve put together myself from the Daniels Running Formula by Jack Daniels. This is really still a base building phase, so I’ve been putting together 6 days a week alternating 5 miles and 6 miles at my “easy pace”. I do strength training at the gym on the 5 mile days.

Next week, I’ll add the long run into my repertoire of workouts. The first one will be 9 miles at my easy pace. After three more weeks of this, I’ll move into a phase with some speedwork. Ultimately, I’ll work up to 60 miles per week and my weekly mileage will vary between 45 and 60 miles all the way up to the half marathon in January. I’m looking forward to the speedwork right now since I’ve just been cranking out miles at my easy pace for the last few months. It’s getting a little boring, but I know that once I actually start the speedwork, I’ll be happy to take a few easy runs to recover.

I really think 1 hour, 45 minutes is a realistic goal for the half marathon. I’m running a 10K in October, though so I’ll have a better idea then. I’m going to try to run a 5K in September and a 15K in November or December if I can find one. If not, I’ll try to do another 10K.

So, things are chugging along even if I haven’t been writing about it. I’ve been logging everything on my Runner’s World training log and also on a new training log I’ve been programming myself. Eventually that will integrate with a running social network I’m working on. Stay tuned for that.

6 random things about me that you probably don’t know and won’t remember 5 minutes from now.

1) My driver’s license lists my first name as “Brain” instead of “Brian”. When I first moved to Florida and transferred my license, they first got my age wrong. I went back and they corrected that, but they screwed up my name. At that point I was like “screw it”. It’s been that way for 10 years now.

2) I have a Ph.D. in Oceanography. So, I guess that makes me “Dr. Brain” - at least according to my driver’s license.

3) I went to the same high school as Meriwether Lewis Clark, the son of famous Louisiana Purchase explorer, William Clark - who quite obviously named his son after his equally famous explorer buddy.

4) I played football and volleyball in high school. I didn’t start running until I was 29.

5) I have one song by the Jonas Brothers and one song by Hannah Montana on my run playlist. This is what happens when you have two daughters.

6) I have a birthmark on my right hip that very few people have ever seen.

So, there you go. I now tag Paul, Sarah, Andy, Jay2Far, Karen and Nicole.

Here are the rules:

1. link to the person who tagged you.

2. post the rules on your blog.

3. write six random things about yourself.

4. tag six people at the end of your post.

5. let each person know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

6. let the tagger know when your entry is up.

I’ll be upping my “easy” pace from 9:37/mi to 9:27/mi this week. That marks a change from a VDOT of 43 to a VDOT of 44. VDOT is basically a measure of one’s running ability based on a recent race time. I got the concept from Daniels’ Running Formula, a great book by Jack Daniels (the running coach, not the whiskey distiller). I highly recommend it. Anyway, the change in VDOT level is largely ceremonial since I’ve been (unintentionally) running a lot of my easy runs slightly faster than 9:27/mi anyway. For now, the tempo, interval, marathon and repeat paces don’t really come into play since I’m in a base building phase. My 24 week half marathon program (for the Walt Disney World Half) doesn’t start until the end of this month, so it’s pretty much all easy runs for a few more weeks.

So, that means two runs a day on some days, but 2 miles at roughly 12 minute mile pace is pretty easy for me. It actually helps clear some of the stiffness from the morning run. I am feeling a little discomfort in my right knee when I’m not running, so I’ll have to stay attuned to that. I’ll probably give myself the 4th of July off.

My “official” 24 week half marathon program starts in the end of July. The first few weeks aren’t too much different than what I’m doing now, though. It’s mostly moderate distance easy runs to build up a base. My legs are kind of longing for some speedier runs right now, but I’m sure when I get to the tempo and interval workouts, I’ll be wishing for the easy runs again.

“Champions don’t skip their workouts,” it said.

“Grumble, grumble, snore,” I replied.

“Champions don’t skip their workouts,” it said.

“Snort, sniffle, yawn,” I replied.

“Champions don’t skip-”

“Okay, shut the hell up already, I get it!” I told my internal coach, rolling out of bed. Thus began the day.

As usual,once I dragged myself to the gym, I had a pretty good workout. I ran easy (that is, at my “easy” pace) and noticed that I was breathing pretty normally at the 2 mile mark - kind of like I was just walking. My cadence averaged around 178 steps per minute, though I lost count near the end of the run because I got caught up in a high speed car chase on the news and completely lost track of time in the last mile.

Afterwards, I hit the weights for a full body workout.

Actual workout

4 miles at 9:31 pace

5 minutes cool down

Full body strength training