tirsdag den 4. december 2018

The magic number?

There are certain numbers that seem to be everywhere you look. One of these is 180.
 When you make a full turn, that's 180°. The highest score in a turn of darts is also 180. And if you have an interest in running, you'll probably have heard that you should run at 180 strides per minute.
While the first two instances of the number 180 make total sense, the bit about running cadence, isn't quite as obvious. Who said that 180 spm is optimal? And why? And maybe most importantly, is it even true?

Where did the 180 strides per minute thing come from?

From what I've read, the number came from the observations of renowned running coach called Jack Daniels. He noted that elite runners run at cadences not less than 180 steps per minute. Note how I wrote "observations"? That was intentional. You see, this was not a study or anything, it was simply an observation. Also, he stated "not less than" not "exactly".
How this number suddenly became almost like a commandment in running is unclear to me. Why there is so much focus on cadence makes sense to me though. When it comes to running, there's not many things you can measure during your training. You can get some interesting numbers and feedback, but you'll need outside help. Cadence however can be measured by even the most rudimentary running watch. 

Quantifiable parameters in running

My coach has a training philosophy he calls KAPA, which in Danish stands for:

  • Cadence (Kadance)
  • Suspension (Affjedring)
  • Posture (Positur)
  • Arm swing (Armsving)
Suspension can be felt to some degree (depending on your footwear), but you can't really put a number on it without advanced equipment. Posture and arm swing can't be measured without outside help either. But cadence, CAN be measured. So it makes total sense for people to focus on cadence.
Now don't get me wrong, I agree completely with my coach that cadence is an important element in running. It's the main component in running speed even:

speed = stride length * cadence

This formula itself already shows why going for exactly 180 strides per minute is not optimal. Since a higher cadence means greater speed (provided you still travel the same or a greater distance with each stride).

But there's not just the speed component that makes cadence a relevant factor. More strides per minute require a higher leg turnover which makes over-striding (and heel landing) more difficult and unlikely. Which reduces your chances of getting injured. 
Apart from that, more elastic energy can be utilized at a higher cadence, since you'll be rapidly loading and unloading muscles and tendons. Which decreases oxygen consumption and thereby increases your running economy.
So a high cadence yields great benefit.

180 spm use it or lose it?

I personally, on average, run at around 175 spm at low speeds. During races, especially the shorter distances (10k and 5k) that number goes up significantly though, usually around 190 spm. Elite runners often run at 200+ spm even.
Your speed, the terrain, and angle of ascent/descent will all have an influence on your cadence. If I always run at exactly 180 spm, I won't be able to run as fast as I'm capable of. And depending on the terrain, I won't even be able to maintain 180 spm. When I run uphill or in loose sand/mud my cadence NEEDS to go up.
At very low speed, if I insist on having at exactly 180 spm, I'll be working a lot harder than I need to.
The point is, my cadence isn't set in stone. It's not a bad idea to know what cadence you run at though. And if it's significantly lower than 180 spm (say 150-160) then I'd definitely advise you to try to increase your leg turnover to get closer to 180. 
If you're a little under though (like I am under some circumstances) I wouldn't fuss about it. And if you run at a higher cadence than 180 spm, then there's absolutely no reason to try to get that number to go down.

So in conclusion, the number 180 is not some sort of running sweet spot that you should aim for under all circumstances. But getting your cadence at least at 180 spm is a good idea, especially at high speed or in tricky terrain.
  

  


onsdag den 28. november 2018

Thoughts about Eliud Kipchoge's world record and Breaking 2

I don't exactly recall when I first heard about Nike's Breaking 2 project, but what I do remember is watching a documentary about it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V2ZLG-Fij_4

What they basically did is take three Godlike runners:


NameNationalityBirth dateAgePrevious best marathon
Lelisa Desisa Ethiopia14 January 1990272:04:45
Eliud Kipchoge Kenya5 November 1984322:03:05
Zersenay Tadese Eritrea8 February 1982352:10:41
Create optimal conditions and slap high-tech, state-of-the-art running shoes on their feet, in hopes of getting a sub 120 minutes marathon.

Quote from Wikipedia:
Nike developed a new running shoe called the "Vapor Fly Elite" for the attempt. The Monza automobile racetrack was chosen for a combination of its low altitude, calm weather conditions, and short lap length. In addition to the pacemaker vehicle, runners acting as pacemakers were positioned to shield the key athletes in an attempt to reduce wind resistance
The result was:


PositionAthleteNationalityTime
1st, gold medalist(s)Eliud Kipchoge Kenya2:00:25
2nd, silver medalist(s)Zersenay Tadese Eritrea2:06:51
3rd, bronze medalist(s)Lelisa Desisa Ethiopia2:14:10
Despite the optimal conditions, Lelisa ran 9:25 slower than his previous best. Zersenay did beat his best time though by 3:50, and Eliud by 2:40.

Lelisa probably ran at an unsustainable pace, causing him to lose quite a bit of time so even with optimal conditions, he didn't beat his previous best.
Zersenay and Eliud did seem to benefit quite a bit from the optimal conditions. But how much did their shoes contribute? 

Thankfully, Nike had scientists do experiments in Boulder, Colorado to provide the answer! They found out that among elite runners there was an average improvement of 4%. And from what I could find from various running sites, Strava seems to confirm this. 
Nike has since released the prototypes the Breaking2 guys ran in to the public, and called it the Vaporfly 4%, because that's what these babies on average improve your running with. 
Needless to say, since Breaking2, I've seen these puppies on the feet of MANY runners.

Not being a fan of cushioned shoes, but still fascinated I did some research.

I took Kipchoge's time under perfect conditions (2:00:25) and compared that to his recent word record breaking time in Berlin (2:01:39). Because Eliud ran both in the same shoe, I can assume that the optimized conditions gave him a 1:14 advantage. So the rest must be the shoes right? 
Before you start screaming "Shut up and take my money!", try thinking about the next bit:

I took Eliud's previous best in Berlin 2:03:32, and converted that to seconds 7412. I divided that by 1,04 (4%), which gave me 7127. I subtracted that from his Berlin time (285) which I then converted to minutes (divided by 4, and ignored the decimals, then % 4) which gave me 4:45.

So that means that if Nike's claims about their shoes hold up, that Eliud should have ran the Berlin marathon in 1:58:47 without needing to improving his running at all just because of his shoes. 
But Eliud "only" ran it in 2:01:39 though... What the Hell Eliud?! Were you even trying? And don't get me started about Monza! With perfect conditions (which we concluded gave 1:14 minutes)  and anatomy-be-damned-technological-marvels on his feet (which should give another 4:45), he should have been able to run that in 1:57:06 (2:03:05 - (1:14 + 4:45) ), "only" managing 2:00:25 is an insult to the brilliant engineers that cooked up the Vapor Fly Elite.

In all seriousness, I think it's safe to say, that unless Eliud got considerably worse at running after consistently improving the last couple of years, that Nike's Vaporfly 4% (with more than a whopping 3 cm of foam under the heel) is not going to radically improve your running times (if at all). Afterall, it didn't do that for the three men they were designed for.
Anyone claiming the opposite, in my opinion basically says that Kipchoge's world record was only obtained because of his choice of shoes, and that he set a world record despite running a hell of a lot worse then usual. Which I personally think is an insult to the man's amazing running performance. 

Sorry to burst your bubble,but it would seem that hard work is still the only way to get faster and you can't buy a personal best for on average $ 250.





onsdag den 21. november 2018

Why I think less is more when it comes to running


Anyone that has seen me running will know that I run in minimal shoes. What they probably don't know, is why I do that.
The following is a story of how I started running in minimalist shoes, why I stuck with it and lastly why I recommend you to do the same.

What is a running shoe anyway?

Like most people, I too always assumed that you need "running shoes" to be able to run. I never really thought about what the definition of a running shoe was though. If it was branded as a running shoe, then it was a running shoe, no questions asked.
But what does make a shoe a Running Shoe? What are the features that make it a running shoe, as opposed to basketball-, tennis-, hiking shoes, etc? The thing I suppose I used to think defined a running shoe, was a good amount of padding under the heel.

When I Googled it, I got this result:

Definition of running shoe. : a lightweight shoe designed for use by runners. Running shoes need cushioning in forefoot and heel to absorb about four times your body weight per step.—
Lightweight and cushioned are actually pretty much mutually exclusive (since the more cushioning  you have, the more weight is added to the shoe), but that never occurred to me. Nor that cushioning would one day be the main reason for me to NOT buy a shoe.

When did this minimalist stuff start?

I've never considered myself a runner. I've always thought of running as something anyone should be able to do at some level (for reasons I didn't really knew at the time), but I was never particularly good at it. I was never very fast nor could I run very far.

After I moved to Denmark, I didn't do sports like I used to in the Netherlands. So I quickly gained quite a bit of weight. When I decided that I needed to change that, I decided to start running.
So like most people would, I started off by buying "running shoes".
At first I couldn't run more then a few hundred meters at a time, but after a while I could run around a very small lake which had a circumference of about 2,5 km.
Pretty soon I discovered a phenomenon called "shin splints". I read up on it, and concluded that I must've done too much too soon. So I took a few weeks off running and tried again. Not long after the hurting started again. This went on a couple of times.
No matter how gently I started, or how expensive running shoes I bought, within weeks I would feel as if I was running on broken shins.

Billedresultat for vibram fivefingersJust when I was about ready to drop the idea of running, I read an article about Vibram FiveFingers and how they forced you to adopt a more natural running style, that was supposedly better for you.
Now I admit, I thought they looked stupid, but when I happened to spot a pair at a local sports store, I decided to give them and running one last try.
The salesperson did warn me that I should start carefully, no more than a few hundred meters to start off with. I ignored that advice of course, and as a result had sore calves for a whole week afterwards.
Having learned my lesson, I only ran short distances in my Vibrams, and the rest in normal running shoes. This seemed to work, I could keep the shin splints at bay and haven't suffered from them since.

Further down the rabbithole

In 2016 my sports club lured me into doing an obstacle course race. At 8 km, this was further then I had ever run before in my life. The organizers of this race had arranged that you could pick up your number and chip at a Vivobarefoot store.

Billedresultat for vivobarefoot evoI realized that there would be swimming involved and looking at these shoes I reckoned that they would shed water easily. I bought a pair and used them during the race. This being the greatest distance I'd ever run at the time, there being a lot of jumping and accelerating, the result was (in retrospect) inevitable: I got a major sprain in my left calf.
Despite this, I LOVED running obstacle course racing and decided that in order to get good at it, I needed to get way more serious about running.

This is when I joined a running club: DistanceRunning.dk
My coach is also a fan of Vivo's, but like me didn't run in them exclusively. Nevertheless, his views on running and minimalism did plant a seed, making me want to run more in minimalist shoes.
There was a problem though. As my speed and mileage went up, if I ran in my minimalist shoes, I'd be sore for a few days afterwards. Getting sore after running in minimal shoes didn't really go away, which looking back, made sense. After all, I would run in normal shoes until the soreness was gone before switching back. So in a way, the natural running style never really became the norm. And I also ran too little in them to strengthen my calves and get them used to actually having to work.

I started competing in races, where there were often pictures taken. So now I could suddenly see how I looked while running.
It annoyed me, that even though I though I landed on my forefoot, I consistently saw myself landing heel first on my (cushioned) Brooks' or Puma's (which I still ran in most of the time).

In 2018 I set some ambitious goals: I got a tailored running program and decided to ditch cushioned shoes all together since I obviously couldn't stop landing on my heels otherwise.

And the result? In the second half of 2018 I ran 5k under 20 minutes, then a half marathon under 90 minutes and finally a 10k under 40 minutes (all solid improvements and all in minimal shoes: Merrell Vapor Glove 3's). Furthermore, I haven't had any injuries since.

Why I believe humans don't need cushioned running shoes

Behold: The human foot, the result of millions of years of trial and error.

The function of this evolutionary marvel, is to adapt to a variety of surfaces, mitigate impact forces, store elastic energy and release them. Mind you, the ankle-, knee-, and hip-joints assist in, and fulfill these functions as well.
In short, our feet are perfectly evolved to allow us to run, jump and play as we have done throughout human history.
That is until we finally "woke up" in the 70's and realized how utterly poorly designed our feet are. Fortunately sports companies saved us from Mother Nature's flawed design, by introducing cushioned running shoes.

The idea behind the cushioned running shoe builds on this formula: speed = cadence x stride length.
Which makes perfect sense in a way, more steps and/or strides of greater length equals greater speed.

Bill Bowerman, co-founder of Nike, reasoned that if you could land further in front of you, your stride length would increase and you would go faster. The only problem with that idea is, that as you can see in the picture, our calcaneus (heel bone) doesn't have all those small bones and ligaments, it's just a big, rigid bone. To allow a person to land on this bone without getting hurt you need cushioning.

So in our "wisdom", we ignored our anatomy and reinvented running. Because even though your foot can do some stuff, doesn't mean you have to make use of it. I mean, just because you're hung like a moose doesn't mean you have to do porn, do you?
But if this was the optimal running form, why on earth did we evolve into having complex nerve structures under our feet, arches, and MANY tiny bones and ligaments?
And why do we need artificial cushioning to be able to "run properly"? Why didn't we evolve to have more cushioning under our heels (like elephants have) when more cushioning obviously is needed?

The answer is, that a forefoot strike happens at the end of a long, semi-flexible lever (metatarsals, tarsals, and phalanges) connected to massive calf muscles (gastrocnemius and soleus) via the Achilles heels. A heel-strike happens on a short rigid lever (calcaneus) connected to a tiny muscle (tibialis anterior).
Which mechanism would logically be more suited to absorb the impact forces produced by running?

Why you should consider ditching your cushioned running shoes

Putting cushioning under your heel doesn't just allow you to land on them. It invites, and almost forces you to do so. If you have a raised heel in your running shoe, it will create a heel-strike where there would normally not be one. After all, there's now 15-25 mm of extra material under your heel.


But so what? As long as there's padding under the heel, it's won't hurt landing on them one bit.

Well, to be able to land on your heel, besides padding, you need your foot to be extended in front of you. Apart from that not being the most optimal running form, from a running economy point of view (since you'll be constantly stopping, rolling and pushing off). It also reduces your cadence (and thereby speed) since you make a far bigger movement. Worst of all, it forces you to extend your knee right before making contact with the ground, so it now can't absorb the impact of your body-weight as well as it can with a slightly bent knee. And since we also took the foot's shock absorbing function out of the equation, the other joints and muscles have to pick up the slack. So needless to say, your knees are definitely not getting much benefit of your cushioned shoes, quite the contrary even. 

So running in cushioned shoes isn't great for your knees. Anything else?

If you have even just a basic understanding of structural engineering, you'll know that arches are load-bearing structures, that don't need support. The whole concept of arch support (after an arch is completed of course) is completely and utterly idiotic.
Imagine having a stone arch, now stick a jack under it and crank it up. What will happen is quite obvious, the structure will fail and collapse.


So arch-support is not beneficial, but since it's constantly supported, and not really fulfilling a purpose anymore, it's not really a problem is it?

We can so far come to the conclusion that cushioned shoes probably increase impact forces on your knees and that they ignore (even nullify) the way a foot is designed to work. 
But it doesn't stop there.

Remember how I wrote that I got crazy sore when I transitioned to minimalist shoes? The reason is quite simple. The calf-muscles are basically a spring for absorbing impact, storing energy and releasing it. If you raise your heel, you shorten that muscle and then rarely go from fully extended to contracted. Do this for years and years, and the muscle will become weak and atrophy. 
When you then suddenly lengthen the muscle and introduce stress the muscle isn't used to handling anymore, you're going to get sore.   
Running shoes often have a "drop", this refers to the difference between the front and rear of the shoe. That means that if you have a 26 mm drop (which isn't uncommon), your heel gets raised and your calf muscle is shortened by the same 26 mm.

Now if all of this wasn't bad enough, let me ask you this: Would you squat heavy weight on an unstable surface? Say a crash-pad used in bouldering/gymnastics or a Bosu-ball? 
You probably wouldn't, since that would create horrible instability, thereby increasing the difficulty and you'd risk getting hurt. But with cushioned shoes you do just that, you create an unstable surface to push off from.

Billedresultat for running shoe without upper

You also raise your point of contact with the ground (as you can see in the picture, there's quite a distance between the ground and your foot). 
Why is that a problem? Well, it lengthens the lever from your ankle to the ground, making twisting/rolling your ankle much more likely.
Imagine running in high-heels, it's certainly not impossible, but definitely not inviting. Yet with cushioned shoes, you do the same thing, just less extreme and on a soft instead of on a rigid base. 
Besides all that, when you put cushioning under your feet you remove a lot of sensory feedback on the soles of your feet, which help you "read the terrain" and adjust for irregularities (yes, there's a good reason for being sensitive under your feet).    

In the last few decades running related injuries have skyrocketed. In fact, running is statistically speaking one of the activities with the highest injury rate. It's difficult to find any statistics on injuries over more then a few decades, since running as a sport became mainstream around the same time the cushioned running shoe was invented. However, there does seem to be a correlation with an increased injury rate and the introduction of cushioned shoes.
In any case, even though there's been plenty of technological advances in running shoes, the injury rates don't seem to decrease.

Reasons to go minimal

As outlined above, I have very logical reasons to choose to run in minimalist shoes. I rarely run completely barefoot though. Mostly because I dislike getting dirt, debris, and dog excrement on my feet. But I can run just as fast barefoot as I can shod, which most running shoe wearers probably can't (if they can run barefoot at all). It's also not harder or painful to run in minimalist shoes, so looking bad-ass also doesn't play a role. Neither do I really care about "feeling the ground" and "being in touch with the earth" or whatever, so that's also not a factor in my preference for minimalist shoes.

I do believe though, that our feet are the result of millions of years of trial and error and as such have evolved to be perfectly suited to run without the need for (more then a minimal amount of) protection.

Reasons for ditching the cushioned running shoe:
  • Cushioning allows for, and invites heel striking/ an unnatural landing, which:
    - is inefficient.
    - increases impact forces on the joints.
  • Modern running shoes nullify practically all the feet's helpful functions by:
    - removing sensory feedback.
    - restrict movement.
    - allowing, and to some extent, forcing unnatural use of the foot.
  • The raised heels shorten the calf muscles.
  • Adding material under the foot increases the likelihood of rolling or twisting your ankles by creating an unstable base and a longer lever from ankle to ground.
  • Most modern shoes aren't actually foot shaped, so they squeeze the toes together (which again decreases stability and gives a whole range of problems by itself).
Reasons to consider going minimal:
  • You're forced to use your foot as intended.
  • Far better shock absorption.
  • Far better stability.
  • Your toes don't get mashed together (so no blisters and sores after longer runs).
  • You'll be able to run in any shoe or even barefoot without slowing down or feeling awkward.
  • Regain strength and dexterity in your feet.
Things to look for in a shoe:
  • Shoes that are actually foot shaped (anything with pointed toes doesn't meet that criteria).
  • Thin and flexible soles (preferably under 5 mm).
  • No raised heels (0 drop).
  • No arch support.
  • Nothing that forces your foot in a certain position.
Things to watch out for when transitioning into minimal footwear:
  • Depending on your running form and what you're used to, be careful during your transition to minimal shoes. If I had to redo my transition, I'd probably run my runs in minimal shoes, then switch to my old shoes during my runs. Gradually increase the distance in minimal shoes until you're running in them exclusively.
  • Don't obsess about your foot strike, just do what comes natural. If it hurts, adjust so it doesn't, it's that simple.
  • Padded shoe wearers tend to tread really heavily. Some speculate that this is caused by feet actually craving feedback and therefore plant their feet firmly into the ground to counteract the padding. I don't know if this is true, but I'd advise treading lightly. If you then step on a rock or other irregularity, it would't hurt your feet. A helpful tip I read at some point, is to tread as if your running on a sleeping giant that you don't want to wake up.
I hope you enjoyed reading this and found it helpful. If you have questions or want to debate, leave a comment. Just keep it clean folks ;)

søndag den 14. oktober 2018

Sydkystløbet

My first 5k run in what seemed like a long time. One of my goals this year, was to get under 20:00 minutes. I'd succeeded in this twice this year and during a the DHL stafet (5k relay) I ran 20:10 without actually trying really hard and under very poor conditions.

What could possibly go wrong right? Well, the last few days leading up to the race I'd been dealing with a nasty cold and wasn't feeling to well. During my warm-up routine, I felt heavy and sluggish, but the temperature was perfect (I tend to fare well under slightly cold conditions).
As a walked up to the startline I told my body to get it's sh!t together and get those legs churning! Afterall, 5k should be over in no time.

As the gun went off I ran off, at first at a too crazy pace (3:30 is (not yet) a sustainable pace for me). I eased down to the pace I was going for 3:54 and tried to use the same tactic that served me well during CPH half: Instead of looking at my watch every couple of seconds I tried to make a mental note of how my desired pace feels like, and stay in that mode. Every time I passed a km marker I manually took a split time to see if I was still on track, and adjusted if I went too fast or too slow.

During to run there was a teenage boy that seemed equally matched, he overtook me a few times and got overtaken by me in the course of the race. I tried not to let that affect my pace and just ignored him until the final few hundred meters. Unfortunately, the boy had more left in the tank than I expected and his end sprint made it impossible to overtake him (well done kid... well done).

When I caught my breath and took a look at my watch I could see that I accomplished my goal: 19:22 (I had planned 19:30). Apart from that I had an overall 10th place and a 2nd place in my age-group. That is the best result I have every had!
     

søndag den 16. september 2018

Copenhagen Half Marathon

About the race:

CPH Half was one of those races that I didn't really train specifically for, but still thought would be fun to do.
I ran CPH Half once before in 2016, where I ran it in 1:43:58. I was impressed by how well it was organised, and knew I wouldn't mind running it again some day. So when my coach asked me if I wanted to run it, I said:"Sure, why not".
When I received my coach's plan for me, I thought he had gone mad. He intended for me to bet the 90 minute mark, meaning I would have to hold a steady pace of 4:15 per km. Considering that my best 5k was at a 3:55 pace, this seemed a bit... Optimistic.
I've learned to trust my coach over the months we've been working together though, I decided to do as the man said.

Gear:

My racing gear would be a Fusion C3 shirt, Fusion C3 3/4 tights (a minor mistake) and my trusty Merrell Vapor Glove 4 shoes. I used extremely cheap cotton toesocks, which only lasted that one race. For fuel I had a package of Clif Bloks.

Things I should have reconsidered:

Taping my nipples wouldn't have been a bad idea, they weren't rubbed bloody, but there was some chafing and I could feel that the next few days.
3/4 tights were way to warm (I picked them because of the thigh pockets which, as far as I know, only Fusion has).

Execution:

During the race I generally kept my intended pace of 4:15, sometimes a few seconds faster and some times a few slower, but never more then 5 seconds either way. I tried to keep track of how much seconds I was ahead or behind, but about half way I lost track.
I didn't make use of the pacers, but I did keep an eye out for them, knowing that if they would pass me during the race, my plan of running below 90 minutes would fail.
My chews (I find gels cumbersome and kinda gross) I took every 3-4 km. There were 6 in the package, and for me this seemed sufficient and didn't upset my stomach.
During the race I wasn't particularly hard pressed and didn't have great difficulties keeping my pace. When I passed the 20 km mark and still felt good, I increased my pace to 3:30-3:45, knowing I could maintain that pace for the last km and it would ensure that I would be under the 90 minutes as intended. Especially the last few hundred meters, I went all out.

The result:

I crossed the finishline, right around 1:30 and my Garmin said 1:28 so when I went to have a look a the official time, I was quite confident I had succeeded.
The official time was 1:29:35

lørdag den 1. september 2018

Nordic Race Refshaleøen 2018

Obstacle course racing wise, 2018 has been a very slow year for me. I've only attended 3 events so far. The main reason for this was that I didn't feel my running is quite where it needs to be and also my grip strength needs to improve.

The European Championships where held in Denmark, the country I reside in. I qualified for that event in March during Strong Viking in Fürstenau (Germany). So you could say there was no reason not to go. So of course I fully intended to attend, I even submitted my application and received confirmation that I had indeed qualified.
However, when I did the math, I quickly found out that this be a very costly affair and, let's face it, there are cooler places to visit then Esbjerg in Denmark.
So after long deliberation I chose to sit this one out. And after watching the live streaming and reading on how others fared, it was probably not the worst idea to not go. The short course was so difficult that very few of even the greatest athletes I know managed to complete the course with their wristband.

Anyway, Nordic Race is one of my absolute favorite races, and since both Strandparken and Refshaløen are within bicycle range (no, I don't own a car) I always sign up for Nordic Race unless I absolutely can't attend.

So, the 1st of September I was in my spiffy elite vest standing in a dark container with butterflies in my stomach and a stupid grin on my face.

The wall fell 2 seconds before the countdown ended, I hesitated for a moment but after seeing everyone storming out I quickly ran out as well. We stormed through an enormous hall with large shipping-containers. One of them was in the middle of the course and needed to be climbed over. Close by a scaffold with a cargo net needed to be scaled. As I prepared to jump and grab it, the whole thing tipped towards us. Shocked and confused I hit the brakes and managed to yell STOP! Some of the other athletes helped the marshals pushing the thing back in place and after confirming that no one was injured I ran on after the others who had continued onward. The race had barely started, and things were not looking good... I figured I still could make up for lost time though and chased the athletes in front of me. We quickly approached legless (dipswalk), followed by a kettlebell hoist (powerpull), there was already quite a queue, but it moved along quick enough.
In the area ahead we were warned that we might run into people going about their business and that we needed to keep an eye out. This however didn't really seem to be much of an issue as I only encountered one guy who yelled a question I couldn't understand.
The next obstacle was rings, a classic in OCR, followed closely by commando rope traverse and a Nordic Race signature obstacle Rabbit Hole.

Next up was the Big Swing, THE biggest obstacle of Refshaleøen, and what this particular event has become famous for. You climb a scaffold, grab a trapeze, swing over the water, drop down at the highest/farthest point, and swim across. This is by no means a difficult obstacle, but if you're afraid of heights, it might cause you to freeze up.



Roller (crawling under some tires) came next, I was careful not to get my palms muddy knowing all the grip demanding obstacles still awaited. A rope climb followed and things were looking good. I had made up for some lost time in the beginning and caught quite a few competitors.

And then the next obstacle took me by surprise: Pipeline. I had seen this obstacle at Strandparken, where it was pretty easy and I had given it no real thought. It turned out though, that the large plastic pipe no longer had tape around it and was (for me at least) nearly impossible to hold on to with wet palms. When I slipped and fell off at my first attempt I assumed I had been sloppy and immediately tried again, and again... After a while the two female athletes started to show up and a more then a few male athletes had passed me as well. After numerous attempts I made it across and ran as if I had kicked a grizzly in the balls.
I quickly scaled a wall and approached the dreaded power push, this requires you to toss a 30 pound ball over a 3 meter high board. Some of the best runners struggle with this, but luckily this never gives me much grief. I tossed the ball over in one attempt and figured that this must've helped me make up for the pipeline disaster. A net pyramid was next en then the Big Rig. Again my wet palms made my life hell and made me slip off near the end.
At this point I knew that there was no way in hell that I would make top 20 and besides, I had already qualified for the World Championships. I had my band cut a decided to just finish the race and accept that some days just aren't your day and that I need to focus on training my grip in a major way.

The following obstacles were no problem, a barbwire crawl and another Nordic Race signature obstacle: Monkey Valley and dragging a concrete block. The following obstacle was Atlas Stones, this has always been one of my favorites and helped me get in a better mood. After some stone blocks and an Irish bench another one of my favorite obstacles came in sight: Edge (cliffhanger). After cruising past this obstacle I felt kinda good again and picked up the pace and passed some guys in some hilly terrain. The relative ease with which I passed athletes during this stretch made me think that my running training has been paying off. After a carry I could see the Staircase, this is usually Nordic Race's final obstacle but this time there was a surprise: a brand new obstacle, a high wall with an overhang.

I ran into the wall pushed off and grabbed the ledge and crawled over in one try.



Crossing the finish-line I had mixed feelings. I definitely enjoyed the race but there had been some unfortunate circumstances that lost me valuable time. I had for a much better result, but things could've been worse.

My plan for the time to come: finding large diameter pipes and doing pull-ups with baby-oil on my palms to avoid getting my ass kicked by an obstacle that should've been a piece of cake.   

fredag den 31. august 2018

DHL Stafetten 2018

Minuba, the company I've been working for the last few months had arranged for 3 teams to run at this event. Had I known that this was the day before Nordic Race at Refshaleøen, I probably wouldn't have signed up.
Luckily, I didn't pay attention and when I make a commitment, I follow though.

The race format is teams of 5 runners in turn run one 5 km each. None of the people in my company run on a daily basis so there was no real pressure to perform. The sheer amount of people attending (about 250,000 over 5 days!), the many turns, and the soft ground also made me decide not to go all out.

Being the 4th runner there was quite some time before it was my turn. When the second runner was back at our tent I started moving toward the transfer-area and looked for the guy that was supposed to give me the baton.

When I received the baton I rushed out of the transfer-area and set a manageable pace. From the very beginning there were a massive number of people on the track and you could tell that most of them don't run races regularly. This made me realize there are quite few unwritten rules in racing, like sticking to the right as much as possible so faster runners can pass unhindered.
The race quickly became a game of zigzagging between people, which in a weird way was both annoying and fun at times.

I knew that our company's tent was shortly after the 4 km mark. So, to make sure that my colleagues noticed me as I ran past, I yelled "MINUUUUUUUUUBAAAAA"! Which, besides getting the attention of my colleagues, also scared the crap out of some of the slowpokes in front of me and opened a large gap I could use to rush past.

As I ran into the transfer zone and frantically started looking for our last runner. When I finally spotted him after a few confusing seconds, and passed to baton, I jogged back to our tent to grab some food.

When I reached the tent my colleagues told me that I had completed my round in 20:10, which wasn't bad considering the lousy conditions and the fact that my fastest official 5k is only 18 seconds faster.