Night Lights Half Marathon.

I had some pretty clear goals going into this race. The primary goal was to run a controlled but sharp effort, injecting some fatigue into my legs without blowing out the tanks and adversely affect my training. Secondary goals were to get some more experience running at night, preferably at a fast pace, to get some additional mileage in, and finally, of course, to have some fun.

In the interest of that final goal, G (who was running the 5k) and I went out and bought some battery-powered light strings to wear during the race. I found a way to wrap them around myself, tucking the batteries into my shorts' key pocket, without adversely affecting my running. The lights had a side effect of causing other runners to not take me as seriously as they otherwise might have. Nobody else in the front line, or seemingly in the entire race, had thought to decorate.

Their loss. G and I were a huge hit with the race staff and the aid station volunteers, who promptly dubbed me "Christmas Tree" and G "Ms Purple Sparkles."

To keep myself from going too quickly, I set a max heartrate goal of 166 on my Suunto. This would keep me roughly at a marathon pace, making me work hard while leaving something in reserve. If I strayed out of this zone for too long, the watch would beep, letting me know that I was going too fast and to ease up a bit. It turns out that the watch allows you some leeway, so that I could stray from the target zone while running uphill. Overall, the method worked well (with a few mistakes on my end which I will outline later on).

The race itself was run over three laps of a ~4.3 mile course, which lends itself to a report by lap write-up:

Lap 1: As I said, nobody seemed to take the guy with Christmas lights wrapped around him seriously at the start line. At the same time, nobody seemed to want to start at the front, so I had half a yard on everybody before the race started at 6:15. Unfortunately, as I tend to do, I started too quickly. I ran the first mile in 7-flat, far too fast and over my heartrate. Once I realized this, I slowed down a bit and, after allowing a few more ambitious runners to pass, settled in to my rhythm for the evening.

(It was around mile two, as I slowed myself down, that somebody asked in passing "what are you plugged in to?" I bit back a sarcastic quip, "a really long extension cord," and told him it was a battery pack.)

The slower pace allowed me to fully appreciate the view at mile 2-3, as we ran along the Mississippi River Bluffs with (first) a phenomenal view of the sun setting over the skylines of Minneapolis and St Paul and (later) a view out along the river itself, with clouds lit up in purples and oranges by the sunset  now behind us.

The course itself was technically very easy, running on wide, mown ski paths, which would allow for more confident footing after dark. It was not too challenging, with only 300 or so feet of elevation gain and loss per lap. But what hills there were proved remarkably steep, uphill and down. Coming on to one, you felt like you might run straight into it, and coming to the downhills, the trail simply seemed to disappear, particularly after dark. That said, the footing on the downhills was good, and I surprised a good many people by charging down each hill without worrying overmuch about injury.

One thing I've learned in my years of trail running: my legs and feet can take most anything I throw at them on the downhills as long as I relax and pay attention. The runners here seem much more tentative on the downhills than runners in Colorado, a fact I plan to continue to use to my advantage in future races.

Lap 2: By lap 2, the sun had fully set, with enough light left still in the first half that I did not need my headlamp and flashlight (the combination I've found works far better than either alone) until we were under the trees. By this point we had all basically settled into the paces and positions we would hold for the duration, barring the inevitable fadeouts from those who were more ambitious than prudent. I fell in behind a runner who was using the same headlamp/flashlight combination as me. I felt no real need to pass him, but rather stuck to my heartrate-based racing strategy.

I definitely felt the pace, but it felt sustainably hard: something I could hold on to for a good deal longer than 13 miles. And so the second lap passed without much incident.

Lap 3: By the third lap, it was fully dark, with lights required. I have run in the dark before, on trails and on roads, often running with the night run group in Boulder. But this was the first time that I had ever raced in the dark, and there are some definite differences.  Mostly, I found it harder to concentrate, and kept letting my pace slip.

Nevertheless, around halfway through the lap, I glanced back and realized the runner I had been trading spots with for the last couple laps had disappeared behind me. This was also around the time when I started catching up to runners in the 5k and 10k races (and lapped one unfortunate half-marathoner). This snapped me out of the pace-slipping conundrum.

With about a mile and a half to go, I decided to let loose a little bit. My strategy of keeping the heart rate low seemed to have worked, and I had a ton of pep left in my legs. In fact, my strategy worked a little too well, because the pace I set (7:20 or so) still felt pretty easy, and, after passing two other half marathoners, crossed the finish line convinced that I had somehow cut the course.

I finished in 1:40:30 for 11th place over all.

More importantly I learned a few things.

Pacing: I can, in fact, keep an easyish pace during a race (something I have not succeeded at in the past) and let it not affect my training overly much. Heart rate is an excellent way to do this.

Starting: I still go out too fast in races. I will definitely have to keep this in mind for the 8-hour race, lest I blow up horribly.

Racing at night: I have never done this before, and so had little idea what to expect. The combination of a headlight and flashlight worked very well. It was not a technical trail, but I think this combination will work well for those as well. I did, however, find my pace slipping in and out a bit as my concentration wavered. I had trouble keeping my mind in racing mode. I looked down at my watch and saw my heart rate down a zone, and was not sure how it happened.

All in all, I think this was a successful training race. I managed to keep my pace in line for the most part, and hit 9 miles on Sunday to boot. I found out a few things about racing at night. I reigned in my start before it killed my race. And, had I raced rather than used it as a training run, I might have won.