Race Recap: Colorado Springs

I'll keep it brief. 

In a word: ugly.

As I mentioned in postings leading up to the American Discovery Trail Marathon--which was held on Monday, Sept. 7 in Colorado Springs--I live and train at sea level, here in Washington, DC. By contrast, 'the Springs' is over 7,000 feet above sea level. When I say I'd feel winded after a long flight of stairs, I'm not kidding. The elevation made a huge difference and it was felt from mile one of the 26 mile race. 

What started out at 8-minute pace gradually rose to a semi-comfortable 8:30 pace. By mile 14 I was averaging 8:30 overall (meaning the last couple miles had slid into 9-minute range). The wheels fell off this apple cart by mile 16 and by mile 17 I needed the meat wagon. Perhaps ugly is an understatement. It was a battle of attrition, a fight for the willing, replete with multiple instances of self-questioning: why am I doing this to myself?! This is beyond painful!

To back up, the reason it hurt so bad was the thin air. Here's why: at elevation there are less oxygen molecules per cubic milliliter of air. By contrast, at sea level where the air is thick, there is a lot more oxygen in each gasp of air we take, so we don't need to breathe as hard to get the oxygen into our lungs and muscle groups. For it is this "oxygen deprivation" (the relative absence of oxygen molecules) that creates muscle fatigue and cramping and eventually leads to the gasping, panting, and the hands on knees position to which all athletes are painfully familiar. When the air is then, there are less oxygen molecules per inhalation, meaning you have to take 1.5-2 full breaths for every breath you would take at sea level. The increased respiration rate eventually leads to an increased heart rate, as the breathing and the beating go hand in hand. Over a long enough time line (such as 26 miles) this leads to increased fatigue--both muscular and cardiovascular. Consequently, at altitude, mile 16 mentioned above felt like mile 22 usually does at a sea level marathon. Therefore, the dead man shuffle I'm usually reduced to at mile 22 came much earlier and I was in a fist fight over the last 10 miles, instead of the last four miles. 

I crossed the line in 4:12 and was totally and completely wiped out. (Note: this was 30 minutes slower than my slowest time previously and was 40 minutes slower than my fastest time of the campaign!) Colorado Springs was difficult, but in a way that was very different from the previous seven marathons. It was almost like comparing apples and oranges. I took 10 days off afterwards (off from running, not from cardio) and only recently began jogging easy. The recovery time is getting longer and longer after each of these ten marathons. 

I'll do 60 minutes tomorrow and will get back into the swing of things next week. I still need to see Natalie at Schrier Physical Theraphy to get back in alignment (and therefore alleviate this knee and low back pain) but I also need to get my sleep, diet and training back on line. 

This is a hectic time of the year for me with NFL placement, college recruitment, client maintenance, and now marathons and fundraisers. The good thing is that we can see the light at the end of the tunnel...even if it is rather faint. Marine Corps Marathon is now one month away (to the day) and I am hell-bent on beating Mayor Adrian Fenty, who unceremoniously passed me at mile 25.5 of last years MCM and mile 23 of the National Marathon, which was the third of ten marathons in this campaign and was held her in DC this past March. He's in good shape this year, so I'd better get back to it, and quick!

That said, I'd better run...

Eight down. Two to go.

Doug Eldridge

President

DLE Sports

Colorado TV Interview

Below is an interview I did with Fox 21 in Colorado Springs two days before the American Discovery Trail Marathon. Brittney Hopper came out and did the piece at the Broadmoor Hotel, which provided a beautiful backdrop for the shot, though a lot of it was eventually cropped out. Suffice it to say, the mountains, pond, swans, bridge, and various vacationing blue hairs made for an eclectic locale for a shoot. I enjoyed meeting Brittney and think she put together a great piece. Check it out and let me know what you think:

http://www.coloradoconnection.com/news/video.aspx?id=346597

Doug Eldridge

President 

DLE Sports

8 Years

Everyone remembers where they were eight years ago today. On that clear September morning terrorists hijacked four planes and created human missiles, killing nearly 3,000 Americans in less than three hours. One plane flew into the North Tower of the World Trade Center, a second flew into the South Tower, a third was directed toward Washington, DC and exploded into the west side of the Pentagon, while the fourth and final plane was driven into an abandoned field in Somerset County, Pennsylvania.

I can remember that morning like it was yesterday. I was on my bike, finishing an early morning training ride. At that point, I was two weeks into my first year of law school, but more significantly, my father--a retired Colonel and career Army officer--had died three days earlier on September 8th, after a valiant battle with a brain tumor. My world was already upside down and the ride was intended to be cathartic. As I got home, I turned on the television to pick up live coverage of the attacks. I immediately thought it was a prank in the vein of an Orson Wells, War of the Worlds broadcast. Every channel was running coverage. The first plane had just hit the North Tower. At that point, commentators were openly debating whether or not it was an errant plane that had flown off course. No sooner did they say that, then I saw the second plane fly into the South Tower on live television. It was surreal. 

Time stopped. I was already in a fog that morning and the two days prior to that, but when you see events unfolding before your very eyes that look like a scene from a Hollywood film, it takes your breath away. Forty minutes later, Flight 77 hit the side of the Pentagon, less than two miles from my law school. It was an all-out attack. Twenty seven minutes after the Pentagon explosion, the news commentators reported that a fourth plane had just crashed in a Pennsylvania field. It was sometime later that we discovered that American passengers had valiantly stormed the hijackers and forced the plane into the ground, sealing their own fate, but saving the lives of everyone in Congress, the White House, or both--each was the presumed final target of the militant terrorists. 

The objective? Crumble our financial markets, destroy our elected political leaders, and drive a plane into our center of national defense, all while striking fear and terror into the hearts of a captive American television audience that numbered in the hundreds of millions.

Those images ran over and over on television and yet despite the repetition, they never became real. Families huddled around their set, entire offices gathered in a single cubicle, by-passers stopped in stunned amazement outside of electronics stores--each group was paralyzed with disbelief at the acts which they had just witnessed, all the while wondering about the untold number of American lives that were lost in the process. 

Like so many things, it seems more recent than eight years ago. At some point time loses meaning, or at the very least, it loses perspective. In this case, no period can pass where this day will be meaningless. No event can transpire where this will not evoke tears, anger, nausea, and that fleeting sense of helplessness that we all experienced eight short years ago. 

News stations are no longer supposed to run the footage. We are supposed to be in a "time of healing" and some have claimed that by replaying the footage we are rehashing and reopening a wound that we otherwise want so desperately to heal. As the smoke hung over Ground Zero, we were a bruised and battered nation, and yet within hours, we rose from the rubble with a resolute determination, a heightened sense of patriotism and commitment to our fellow man, and a clear sense and consciousness that our liberty, democracy, and freedom are an intimidating threat to many people around the world. 

Today, eight years later, our armed forces and intelligence community have captured and/or killed many if not most of the alleged masterminds behind the brutal attacks that killed so many helpless Americans on September 11th. As we move forward, these actions provide comfort, if not some sense of revenge, and yet some things will never be forgotten, some things can never fully be made whole. 

To our troops abroad that continue to hunt down, capture and bring to justice all those that would do similar harm to our country--we thank you. For without your dedication to our continued protection, we would continuously fall victim to any and all such attacks upon our citizenry. 

For those of you who have forgotten the initial nature of their deployment, or the necessity of their mission, I remind you of the following:

First plane

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iGYVh7HZo8

Second plane

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3iKLz4oatY&NR=1&feature=fvwp

People jumping to avoid being burned to death

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bh2ee2Vciwk&NR=1

Collapse of South Tower

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4sRi5stG10

Collapse of North Tower

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8JG7vMQYqA

This campaign has been--and will continue to be--completely apolitical. I have avoided partisan politics, which might derail an otherwise bipartisan issue and endeavor: the continued treatment and care for those American soldiers who are injured in the line of duty...injured while protecting not only their fellow citizens, but those abroad, who might be harmed by the coward, reckless acts of extremists, just as we were eight short years ago.

Today is not a day of mourning. Today is a day of remembrance.  Today is a day of affirmation of purpose. 

And in that, we salute those who have fallen and we salute those who continue to stand watch for our protection. 

Doug Eldridge

President

DLE Sports

Colorado Springs: 2.5hrs away

As I type this, I am sitting at my window in the Broadmoor Hotel, looking out over a sea of twinkling lights as the rest of Colorado Springs is still fast asleep. Yet, in less than 90 minutes, I will be driving to the start line of the eighth (and unquestionably hardest) marathon of the ten races that comprise the 10-12-100 Campaign: the American Discovery Trail Marathon.

Colorado Springs sits at approximately 6,200 feet above sea level, while the start of the race--some 20 miles and 40 minutes away in Palmer Lake--is closer to 7,200 feet. Though 1,000 feet, spread over 26 miles does not seem alike a lot, that's not really the point; the point is the difference between 7,200 feet and sea level (0 feet) which is what I come from in D.C. The difference is staggering. 

I did two training runs out here and I was wheezing like a fat kid in gym class who dreaded the "mile day" every semester. For a guy who already has a deveated septem and the beginnings of a sinus infection, the thin, dry air has caused nose bleeds, shortness of breath and overall lethargy...not the makings of a solid marathon by any means. 

Then again, that was the entire premise of this campaign from conception to execution: courage in the face of self-doubt, success in the face of near certain defeat. Not so much for me, but for the thousands of young soldiers for whom this campaign is dedicated. It is their courage, their tenacity, their unwavering commitment to the completion of the mission that inspires me. That is what drives me when my right knee hurts, when my back seizes up in the middle of the night, when my breathing wheezes and whistles at elevation and my heart rate soars through the roof. It is the certainty that if roles were reversed, those very young men and women for whom I am doing this, would themselves be up and making their way to the start line as well. That is the commonality of purpose we all share, the binding nature of American citizenship that runs through our veins. The commitment to God, country, and each other. 

My hotel is located a few short miles from the Air Force Academy, on what I assume to be Parents Weekend. All the young cadets are in their dress blues, visiting with their parents and girlfriends for a few hours of precious leave from campus. Their pride in their uniform is apparent by their posture, presence and bold smile as they greet family and friends. The next generation of American defenders, tyranny's liberators, and the real providers of hope and change across countries and continents that have long since forgotten the meaning of such words. 

We have a lot to be proud of as Americans. 

So here goes number eight. 26 miles of muddy trails at nose-bleeding altitude with an aching back and a throbbing knee. When I think of these young cadets who today know Parents Weekend and next month might know deployment, I am inspired, I am refocused, and I am ready. 

I am only one man running these marathons, but I have an Army to my back and a sea of faces in my heart. 

Onward.

Doug Eldridge

President

DLE Sports

Mid-Summer Work...

It's hard to believe that we are almost halfway through the month of August and therefore, only a little over two weeks away from the traditional end of summer: Labor Day Weekend. 

In DC, kids start school in a week or two, whereas in Virginia, they start the Tuesday following the holiday Monday during the Labor Day Weekend. Either way, that means two things for me:

1) Summer, sadly is almost over AND

2) I am only a few short weeks away from another marathon.

The next race will be on Monday, September 7 (Labor Day Monday) and it's called the American Discovery Trail Marathon in Colorado Springs. (see: www.adtmarathon.com)The race itself is an off-road trek set at 7,200 feet of elevation. To put it in context, that is comparable to what the elite Kenyans are training at in Eldoret and Iten, Kenya. Conversely, I am at sea level here in DC, 0 feet of elevation. The substantial change in altitude is incredibly daunting and is known to produce 'altitude sickness' and that's in people who are simply trying to acclimate on an everyday level; not people who are trying to come from sea level and run a 26-mile marathon. 

A former client is out there and says that when he first made the move to elevation, it felt like he was breathing through a coffee stirer with a clothes pin clamped on his nose, as his lungs were set ablaze with kerosene. 

Ok seriously, I am NOT making that up. Those are his words, not mine, and to this day, I consider him one of the toughest athletes I have ever known. That said, I've really got my work cut out for me for the eighth marathon in the 10-12-100 Campaign. Without a doubt, this is the only one for which I've almost had a sense of dread. First, I've never done any racing (whether short or long) at that kind of elevation. Second, this will unquestionably be the hardest of all ten marathons and I'm not getting to it until the eighth marathon in a ten-race line up. Regardless, I'll get the job done. 

The challenge will be to keep getting in the training miles necessary to maintain my base fitness while work ramps up during the fall season--the four month period of time that is the busiest for me as an Agent and this growing business. To illustrate, earlier this afternoon, Courtney and I charted out my prospective travel schedule from September-December and I will be gone as much as 16 weekends, with multiple one and two-day mid-week trips sprinkled in between. This is the period where I go to watch, meet and talk with prospective clients (all within the ambit of the NCAA, SPARTA, and governing state laws) as well as see current clients as the fall football season ramps up. 

With thousands of miles to run and thousands of miles to travel for work, this is going to be an incredibly busy fall for me, the office and the campaign. I'll be sure to do at least two postings per week as I've gotten a lot of requests to know what a 'typical day in the life of...' means for me as it relates to DLE Sports and the 10-12-100 Campaign. 

Additionally, per your requests (and haggling) I will be posting a lot of pictures to the blog and also to our Facebook page (search: 10-12-100).

As always, you can contact me directly with any comments, questions, concerns or support. 

Thanks for your prayers, well wishes, and continued donations. 

Doug Eldridge

President

DLE Sports

San Francisco: the 26.65mi Marathon

Yeah, that's not a typo. The race was 26.65 miles...or nearly a half mile longer (.45) than a standard marathon of 26.2 miles. It was not a joke, it was not intended, but at that point in the race, it is what it is. Other than the distance discrepancy, this was an awesome race set in an amazing city. 

We started at 0530hrs at the Embarcadero along the water front. The air was cool and damp, but not nearly as cold and windy as the night before. The bridge to San Rafael was capped with lights which stood out against the dark backdrop of the San Francisco sky that morning. After the gun went off, the course carried us around the waterline for about 5 miles, all the way to the base of the Golden Gate Bridge. When we got to the GGB, the air was noticeably cooler and as we began the start of a steady three-mile climb up to and across the bridge, the low-lying fog and cloud cover--which make the GGB so famous for use in photos and movies--coated the runners' skin as if running through a mist. The wind was also kicking up and I was tucked right in the middle of my 3:40 (8:30/mile) pace group. At that point, you couldn't see a damn thing, but you could hear the low, eery bellowing sound of the Hornblower and other bay barges and boats as they made their way under the bridge. (Note: The horns sounded just like the alien pod 'collectors' in Tom Cruise's War of the Worlds a couple years ago. Made me smile.)

The plan, so to speak, was to run really conservatively with the slow pace group through the first half of the race and then if I felt good, I could pick it up once the majority of the hills subsided. If I didn't feel good, then I'd just knuckle down and stay in the middle of the 3:40 pack. Regardless, I committed to myself that I wouldn't make a move one minute or one mile sooner than the midway point (13.1 miles) and I was going to remain patient and just read my body until then. 

Yeah, I scrapped that plan. 

At mile 11, I felt good. After severe cramping in Cincy and Seattle, I came into this race way over-hydrated (as evidenced by unplanned pitstops in the bushes at mile 2, 8 and later at mile 17 to empty a full bladder.) Due to those stops, I frequently lost touch with the pace group, which obviously kept on running as I ducked in and out. The desperate yo-yo'ing of sprinting to catch back up eventually caused an adrenaline spike and on a huge downhill, I just took off, unlocking my legs and letting my body hurtle me down the hill. I can remember Natasha Badmann running back several minutes in the Hawaii Ironman a couple years ago, by sprinting the down hills while all the other women were locking out their legs and "bracing" down the hill. First, that's brutal on your quads and knees, especially in latter stages of a marathon. Secondly, it's analagous to sitting the breaks while driving down a steep hill; you're just breaking your own natural momentum and killing your breaks in the process. That said, I went with it...and went I did. I just ran. Soon the pace group was no longer visible over my shoulder. 

It was a gamble, but as the splits corroborate, each mile was getting faster and each segment (as shown below) was getting faster than the previous. When it was all said and done, the last six miles were the fastest of the entire race. 

At any rate, after we crossed back over the Golden Gate, the course wound thru the Golden Gate Park, which was absolutely gorgeous...it reminded me of Rock Creek Park in D.C., yet it was distinctly California in terms of flora and fauna. This section was particularly hilly as well. When we made it out of the park, we climbed to the top of Height Ashbury, which was the highest elevation point on the entire course and your legs were really feeling it at that point. 

Height Ashbury, is the famous anti-war, home of the Grateful Dead, noted for its prodigious and flagrant weed smoking, and as the epicenter of the 60s and 70s west coast counter-culture revolution. Even still, the long-hairs were out in force to cheer everyone...even the likes of a short-haired agent who's running for injured American soldiers--the very thing they once and still do protest on a daily basis. In a sense, that's the strangely unifying spirit of distance running. It brings together opposing sides, ideologies, and perspectives, which might otherwise, never see eye to eye on any issue of real substance. 

With that, we began a series of rolling descents, all the way to the old packing houses that lie about 4 miles from the finish. At this point, I focused on form, breathing and driving it home. I had long since ditched my pace group and was inching closer to an overall average of 8:00/mile, something I never would've thought possible when looking at the race profile and in light of my implosion a month earlier in Seattle. Regardless, I pushed through and crossed the first line (26.2 miles, though obviously it remained unmarked) in 3:32 and then crossed the "official" finish line in 3:34:07. According to the Garmin readout, that's 8:02 average for the entire race, but the race website, has it (26.2, not 26.65) as being 8:10 per mile. Either way, it's done and on the books. 

On the whole, I loved my trip to San Francisco. I ran a good race. Got a lot of work done for some clients. Saw the city where I was born. Ate the best Chow Mein of my life on the 2nd floor balcony of a tiny restaurant in Chinatown. Rode a trolley. Saw where one of my favorite movies, Bullit, was shot. Watched a 2-hour dance showcase in Union Square. Saw my fair share of locals, tourists, trannies and homeless.  Ate a little bit of San Fran sea food. Had two post-race, well-deserved gin & tonics. Slept like a baby the night after the race, for the first time in almost a month. 

Though I love this city, and will undoubtedly be back more and more over the next couple years--both for business and for recreation--there truly is no place like home. With that, my bags are packed and I'm going to do some client work until taking off for the airport and my 1500hrs PST flight back to Washington, D.C.

San Francisco is on the books and Colorado Springs is up next, where I'll be doing the American Discovery Trail Marathon over Labor Day weekend. Thanks for all your support.

Seven down. Three to go. 

Doug Eldridge

President

DLE Sports

San Francisco: 2 hours away

I didn't sleep well last night. I tossed and turned thinking about clients I still need to place for the upcoming football season. I got up a couple times, sent emails, made notes for follow-up calls this afternoon (yes, I make calls on Sundays) and generally jotted down some reminders for myself and a timeline for their completion later this week. If there's one thing  that my clients never worried about when I told them about this campaign, it's that the level of service and representation would diminish in any way. If anything, it's only increased. 

At any rate, the San Francisco Marathon is now just under two hours away. Right now it's 53 degrees outside with low lying clouds, incredible moister and if the sun were up, it would reveal that the City by the Bay is undoubtedly covered with fog. Looking at the hourly breakdown, it's not supposed to get above 60 degrees during the entire marathon. Though that sounds chilly to many people, for a bigger guy like me, that's ideal. 

Ever the data nerd I keep pretty detailed training and racing logs, to try and take the guessing game out of both good and bad performances. I account for variables such as sleep, fatigue, body weight, temperature and humidity, terrain, intensity and duration of workout, extrinsic work-related stress, etc. Point being, I've determined that despite diligent hydration in the days leading up to the marathon--and despite going through both bottles on my fuel belt as well as multiple 'running cups of water' along the course--on a typical marathon where the air temperature is 70 degrees or higher, I will lose between 8-12 lbs during the race. By contrast, when it is 60 degrees or cooler, that quotient drops to 6-10 lbs. Although that might seem like minutia to the casual observer, that's actually a substantial difference in terms of variable dehydration and the resulting cramps that ensue between miles 18-26 on the course. That said, the fact that it's in the low to mid 50s, with damp air and near complete cloud cover, bodes well for my race...especially given all the hills I'm about to battle. 

Regardless, I'm going to run with a slower pace group today. After my meltdown in Seattle, and given the brutal nature of this course, I'm going to start running with the 8:30 pace group (3:42 finish time) and see how I feel. Looking at the topography of the course and after having driven it yesterday, the hills, though pervasive, are pretty much over at the 18.5 mile mark. That said, it's better to start conservatively and hold it (or pick it up if I'm going good) than to start too fast and burn out and be passed by slower pacing groups. Trust me, the humility of this endeavor is not lost on me. 

There is no greater metaphor for life than running and no better narrative for perseverance, self-awareness, and accomplishment than distance running. In less than two hours, I will add another chapter to this ongoing saga. 

Doug Eldridge

President

DLE Sports