Alan Webb Breaks American Mile Record

In front of a tiny crowd of less than 1,000 in Belgium, Webb ran 3:46.91 to break Steve Scott's record. Webb is now the 8th fastest miler in history, and the 7 ahead of him are a who's who of track and field's all-time bad-ass middle distance runners.

Washington Post Article

Knackered - continued...

The other day a friend of mine had the nerve to suggest that I might have run the first half too hard and that was why, yet again, I had trouble over the last half of the course. Instantly defensive, I said that there was no way I was running outside of my comfort zone. But had I?

Running down the gravel road into Cleveland Dam I relaxed as much as possible and focused on what I needed to do at the aid station - look for Heather and Rhys, grab a new bottle from my drop bag, drank two cups of water, then back out onto the course.

I ran right past Heather and Rhys and realized this when I heard my friend Jill yell, "Nice haircut Langhjelm!" I turned and ran back to Rhys and Heather, gave them both a kiss, turned back around, found my drop bag, switched bottles, tossed my garbage, quickly drank two cups of water, then hit the road.

In each of my previous attempts at the Knee Knacker, I've run the 1mile section of Nancy Greene Way with an eye towards setting a good tone as I began the last half of the course. As this tactic has let me down every time, I decided that I would walk until I hit the base of the Grouse Grind.

By now, Mark Bennett had passed me and was motoring up the hill on his way to a 5:25 finish in his first attempt at the race. Great run Mark!

Halfway up Nancy Greene I started to worry about how much I was sweating. During the first of the race I was definitely sweating profusely, but I was too focused on not falling on my face to give it a seconds thought. But now that I was walking and the adrenaline had worn off, I started to stress a little. It was only 2:43 into the race at this point and I had consumed at least 2 liters of water / Carbo-pro, if not more. While I was trying to figure out how I was going to stay on top of the hydration issue, I remembered that I had two Advil in my bottle's side pocket. I've never taken Advil before a race before, but I've had a number of people tell me that it helps with the pain. So I popped two more Advil (I had two for breakfast).

By the time I reached the entrance to the Grouse Grind, I was starting to feel a little fresher so I decided that I would start running as soon as I hit the gate.

Now, Grouse Mountain was hosting its Trail Sense Day at the same time as we were passing through so there were a fair number of people milling about as I started to pass through. Someone yelled "runner" and everyone cleared as if I were Moses and they were the Red Sea. Well, I better start running I thought. So, off I went...for about three steps and then both of my adductors cramped on me and I was brought to a swift halt with all eyes upon me. Crap.

An interesting aside - the song that was playing on my IPOD when the cramping started? Karma Police by Radiohead.

The exact same thing happened to me in the exact same spot in 2001 and that race did't end well. As I was trying to massage out the cramp in each leg, Chris Downie and Aaron Pitt passed by. After asking what was wrong, Aaron offered up one of his salt tablets. Since this was only the second time in my life that I've had leg cramps, I didn't know if the salt would help the cause or hurt it. So I said thanks, but no thanks.

Within seconds the cramps abated and I was able to resume a steady pace again, passing both Chris and Aaron within the next few minutes.

The 3/4 mark of any race, long or short, is always my undoing. In the Knee Knacker, the section from Grouse Mountain to the Rice Lake checkpoint is where I have the most trouble, both physically and mentally. When people ask me about this section of the Knee Knacker, I always half jokingly refer to it as the tunnel of doom. I always feel terrible and the worst thoughts go through my mind. It is somewhere along this section that I stop caring about what my finishing time will be or how I will place. I just want to finish.

When you reach that place, the place where self preservation is your only concern, intimate knowledge of the trail before you is not a good thing.

In a way, the fact that I'd experienced a similar level of discomfort and mental anguish at this point in the race helped me cope and avoid the "drop out" thoughts.

I also call this section my "annual piece of humble pie." A very big piece indeed.

So, with my well documented relationship with this section of the trail in mind, I decided that I would focus on getting through one small section of the course at a time.

This strategy proved to be necessary almost immediately as the cramping started again and, to make things more interesting, a nice bout of nausea decided to visit.

By the time I had reached the bench dedicated to Carolene Simpson (Michael Simpson's Mom), I had become a mess. The cramps were visiting different places now - left hamstring, adductors, the occassional shot to the quads. There was a minute or so section that was so disasterous it was almost comical. Like a shot from a gun, my adductors cramped, sending me to the ground. I got up, started to run, then my left hamstring cramped, sending my flying again. The last fall was the one that hurt. Thankfully the only thing that was hurt was my ego.

As I descended down towards the Mountain Highway Aid Station, I felt like I was coming out of a thick mental fog. I was extremely grateful to reach this point; the worst part of the course (in my opinion) behind me.

After a quick rinse at the tap, I was off at a decent clip, thinking that I might actually be able to recover well enough to finish fairly strong.

Turning left onto the Lynn Headwaters Access Road, I saw Heather and someone I've never seen before jumping up and down and screaming encouragement. I was pretty dam tired at this point, but they still managed to give me a boost of adrenaline.

Heading onto the Varley Trail, Heather told me I was in seventh. Someone up front must have dropped! That gave me a lift for whatever reason. That lift was shortlived as I heard Heather yell "go girl" to who could only be Suzanne Evans. Shit. I figured that Suzanne might have a chance at catching me near the end if she had a great race, but not this early.

Within a minute, she was hot on my heels. I knew then that I didn't have a chance against her. I looked at my watch, which read 3:58. I knew she ran the final 1/4 last year in just over 1:14 so I knew she had a shot at her own record if she could stay focused and strong until the end. As she went by I tried to encourage her by telling her to go for it, your record is in reach.

She modestly protested, then sped away from me, the perfect blend of grace and strength.

The tiny amount of adrenaline I had at this point was gone and it was back to survival mode.

At the end of the third quarter, Chris Downie and Aaron Pitt caught up to me again. The three of us ran rather awkwardly, but still relatively quickly down the Suspension Bridge Trail towards the BP.

As we began the climb up toward the BP junction, all three of us stopped within seconds of each other to work out a cramp. It was definitely an amusing scene.

I was the longest of the group to get back to a trot, so that was the last I saw of Chris and Aaron (Congratulations Guys!). I managed to run / shuffle all the way down to the bridge that crosses the Seymour River. I was now 4:30 into the race with a very long 9+ km to go. Thoughts of breaking 5:30 were long gone as I gave into the fact that I would probably be hiking the whole Seymour Grind section.

At 4:40 I finally reached the Hyannis Aid Station and saw Heather again. No Rhys this time. Sound asleep in the car. Crap. I was hoping that he could give me a smile or something to motivate me.

I hear a vollie telling someone that Kevin must be close to finishing...

I stalled for a few more minutes, drinking a couple of cups of flat coke. Pat Love, another vollie, asked me I wanted a sponge. I said no thanks and that Heather would be giving me a sponge bath soon enough. No laughs. Bad joke I guess.

Back onto the Baden Powell and up the Seymour Grind, the last cruel hill of note. I'm in 10th at this point. As I reach the crest of the Seymour Grind, I look behind me to find Keith Wakelin slowly gaining on me. Now, one of my goals each of the last three attempts was to beat Keith Wakelin. After he beat me my first year, he was quoted as saying that there was no competition. I took that personally and vowed that I would take him down. I failed the last two times, with Keith passing me somewhere during the third quarter. It looked like I was going to fail again. I've got no hard feelings against Keith. Heck, it's only running. But, still. I want to beat the guy.

"Good work Keith. Go get 'em." "Thanks Eric. Dig deep."

Bastard. (just kidding...sort of).

Heading down the Baden Powell towards Mount Seymour Road is not fun when your legs are fried. Strong legs that danced around obstacles just hours earlier can now barely navigate the smallest of rocks. The only word running through my head: Ouch, ouch, ouch, etc.

Everything was starting to bug me, my shirt and water bottle in particular. I put my water bottle down at the next main intersection, hopeful that the course sweep would pick it up (thank you!). A few minutes later, off comes the singlet, absolutely soaked. Like a petulant child, I threw the singlet on the ground. It was my lowest point, feeling defeated and disappointed. That being said, I rarely sulk for more than a few minutes. Life's to short. And to be frank, the only person who cares whether I come first or 200th is me.

The pity-party over, I prepared myself for the final push. The Mount Seymour Road Aid Station was a welcome sight as always. The next 1.5km section of the BP, oftern refered to as "wheel chair accessible" because of the lack of obstacles, passed without problem.

The energy level started to pick up as I hit Indian River Road, though the legs had zero lift or spring to them.

Then, WHAM. Cramps again. Crap. Less than 2km to go and I'm hobbled again. As I'm standing on the side of the trail trying to work out a hamstring cramp, two other guys go by, including my friend Tom Craik who was having an awesome race (Congrats Tom!).

Cramp subsides and I'm off and running (sort of) again. Back to survival mode. Just get to the finish. I can hear the MC's voice at the finish as it carries across the waters of Indian Arm. It sounds minutes away, but I know better.

Behind me I hear someone else coming. I look and it's Nicola Gildersleeve, the early 20's girl from North Shore Athletics. Wow! She finished her first Knee Knacker last year in about 6:40, so she was having an awesome race...and was going to beat me!

There was nothing I could do but watch her pull away from me. At this point, my only thought was "oh well."

As I crested the last hill, relief washed over me, as I'm sure it does for everyone who does this race.

Approaching Panorama Drive, emotion starts to bubble beneath the surface. I think back to my first year when I burst into tears when I crossed the finish line. A lot has changed in my life in the six years since I first ran this race.

The Knee Knacker really changed my life that first year. As I approached the finish line of my fourth Knee Knacker six years later I thought about how grateful I am for what I have - a beautiful wife, a wonderful son, and so many other things that probably wouldn't be a part of my life if I had never taken up Keith Nicoll's offer of an entry into the Knee Knacker.

Words truly can't describe what it meant for me to see my family at the finish line this year and to be able to carry my son across the finish line with me.

I wanted to run well so that Heather and Rhys would be proud of me. I hope they are, not just of me, but of everyone who took part.

Within minutes of finishing my first Knee Knacker I was asked if I would ever do the race again. If I remember correctly, my answer was a very definitive no.

Guess who signed up already for next year...

Knackered!

It's been three days since I staggered to the finish of my fourth Knee Knacker and I still feel a little out to lunch. Perhaps I'm still in shock over how damn tough that race is...

On Friday, my confidence was soaring and my body was twitching with pent up energy. I was well trained, well rested, and I had a solid game plan, one that called for me to hold back and run a smart, controlled race.

However, I was definitely concerned about the weather report for the day - warm, but high humidty (mid-80's). None of my many long runs this season had taken place in similar conditions, so I knew I had to adjust my fluid / fuel intake somewhat.

For the first time in years, I slept soundly the night before the race. Usually I lay there for hours, thinking myself into oblivion. Instead, I was out like a light and had no problems jumping out of bed at 4:00 AM.

Breakfast - toast (awesome "cale seed" bread from Cobs) with a lot of peanut butter and honey. coffee (lots).

Three trips to the bathroom and I was out the door and up the road to meet Kim Steed for a ride to the new start line.

When I get to the start area of any race, I start to get nervous. Everybody looks fit, fast, and confident. Things were no different this time. Most of the runners looked fit, fast, and confident. Others looked very unrunner-like, but after having been beaten pretty soundly by all shapes and sizes over the years, I'll never underestimate another runner ever again.

The one constant, the runner's constant, was the excuses. Everybody had them, and everybody was sharing 'em.

The beauty in having a great excuse is that if you end up performing well, it was in spite of the obstacle you had to overcome. However, if things don't got well, you've got your excuse to fall back on! Rarely do you ever hear someone say "I feel fit, fast, and confident. I'm going to run great." I did, once, and my words blew up spectacularly in my face.

Another runner's constant, is the need to pee at least 8-10 times in the hour before the race starts. My personal nightmare is the holding pens at the start of the Vancouver Sun Run. Without fail, I have had to pee every single time I've been in one of those holding pens. Invariably, I always end up jumping off course and behind something to relieve myself.

If I remember correctly, I believe I peed at least 6 times in the 30 minutes leading up to the start and two of the times I surprised another runner trying to go about their business in the bushes!

As we were called to line up for the start, I looked around at all of the guys and girls at the front and thought, holy crap is this going to be a fast race.

The race starts and I watch the first 15 or so practically sprint off the line. Relax, I told myself. No one cares what place you are in at the beginning of the race, only at the end. So I eased into a comfortable pace, preparing for the first short, but steep climb. When we hit the hill, the only two people in the immediate vincinity to slow down were Suzanne Evans and myself. As she is the current women's course record holder, I figured I was being smart to do what she was doing.

It didn't take long, however, for me to start passing people. I live near the start line and train frequently on the first 1/4 of the Knacker with Angus (our terrier). Plus, I love running up hills (the same can't be said for running downhill).

Within 15 minutes we were onto the Baden Powell and beginning the long climb up to the bluff. At this point, there were about 5 of us running together - Aaron Pitt (Mtn Biker), Chris Downie, Mark Bennett (Mtn Biker), and Greg Inskter (Mtn Biker). Mark and I quickly dropped the other three as we settled into a steady pace. By now, we were all drenched in sweat, the humidity proving to be more challenging than the terrain.

At 23 minutes running gave way to fast walking / hiking. The challenging part of Black Mountain is actually relatively short in distance / duration. It took us just over 37 minutes from when we started walking to reach the bluffs and an amazing view.

Mark was about 30s ahead of me at this point. I kept telling myself to relax and to not focus on what place I was in yet. I was also focusing on drinking as much and as often as possible.

In the week since I was last through the Cabin Lakes section, the snow had almost completely disappeared. I was expecting sloppy conditions, but the mud wasn't bad at all. That, combined with the fact that I felt awesome, gave me a shot of confidence and adrenaline.

Just before the Heli-pad we ran past Barry Chilibeck, a course marshal, whose head was literally being eaten alive by bugs. There must have been about a hundred bugs within inches of his hair. I was grateful that there was someone there to direct us, but man that must have sucked. Thank you Barry!

As I started the descent into Cypress Bowl, I could see that I was catching up to Mark Bennett. It looked like he dislikes downhills even more than I do.

I took a gel once we reached the Yew Lake Trail, with a reminder to myself to grab water at the aid station.

In all three of my previous attempts at this race, I've spent way too much time hanging out at aid stations, partly for the break, but also for the social aspect. Aid stations are a lot of fun and the people who volunteer at them are some of the most enthusiastic, cheerful people you could ever hope to meet. This time, however, my plan was to be out of every aid station within 15s.

In my race plan, my goal time for the 1/4 was 1:35, a time I felt would set me up for a great run on the next 1/4 and beyond. When I heard my time at the checkpoint, 1:28, I panicked a bit as that was roughly the same split I had in year's past where I had blown up. But I felt great and didn't think I was pushing the pace at all, so I relaxed a bit and started the next 1/4 feeling good about how things were going.

By this point I had caught up to Mark Bennet and we ran together over to the Hollyburn Lodge, a.k.a. Black Fly Central.

Mark appeared to be slowing a bit and I was feeling great, so I decided to pass him. In hindsight, I'm not sure if this was a good idea because as I passed him my mentality switched from passive (following) to somewhat aggressive (leading). Also, I started to look at my watch and extrapolate what my time at the Dam might be.

There is a vast difference in effort between running to complete and running to compete. Up until the point where I passed Mark, I was running to complete. I wanted to have a solid run from start to finish, irregardless of where I might place or what my time might be. Yet, once I passed Mark, I was running to compete. I like Mark, but I wanted to beat him and even catch some of the guys that were in front at that point.

That being said, I really don't think I was pushing the pace at all. I felt great and was running relaxed, in control. The Hollyburn Chute, the bain of my existence in races past, was enjoyable this time around. It was like I was simply flowing down the trail; I was definitely in a "zone."

As I passed Collingwood School (about 1km from Cleveland Dam), I remember telling myself to start conserving energy, readying myself for the last half of the race. The first half is always easy, especially if you're well trained. But the last half breaks nearly everyone. As the race shirt this year stated: pain and suffering are inevitable.

Cleveland Dam is always my favourite aid station. The body is still functioning as you hope it would and your outlook is still positive and upbeat. The Dam is also the first place where you get a fairly big turnout of family members and friends. It's nearly impossible not to get a boost of adrenaline when you run through this aid station.

I was particularly excited about getting to this point because I knew my wife and son would be there to cheer me on. At first I didn't see them, but some comment about my recent bad haircut captured my attention and I turned back to see the two of them, my son in the baby bjorn, chubby arms and legs waving about. Seeking inspiration and motivation for the hard work that was about to come, I ran up to them and gave them both a kiss.

Little did I know that would be the last good feeling I would have until I reached the finish over three hours later...

PART TWO COMING TOMORROW

Odds on Favourites - Knee Knacker

This year's Knee Knacker is going to be a barn-burner, literally (the heat) and figuratively (the competition).

No disrespect intended to the rest of the competition, but Suzanne Evans (Course Record Holder - 5:18) is as close to a sure fire thing as you can get these days on the women's side. She is an incredible runner and is improving with age. Assuming her fitness has improved since the Ottawa Marathon where she ran 2:46, Suzanne has a shot at making it into the top three again this year, if not an outside shot at winning it all. Wouldn't that be cool?

On the men's side, there are no less than ten men contending for the win:

1. Kevin Titus - the course record holder is 50 now, but is apparently as fit as ever. The guy is tough as nails.
2. Peter Findley - the six or seven time winner and former course record holder is back for another crack at the title.
3. Mark Bates - this former world class triathlete has won the last two races fairly handily and has just as good a shot as anyone at taking it again.
4. Kevin Vallely - this guy is a monster athlete. two years ago he dusted the entire field at the Kusam Klimb by 15 minutes and looked ready for another round when we ran into him later that day. Kevin is one of the legendary three who once ran the West Coast Trail in just over 9 hours with only six power bars to speak of!
5. Keith Wakelin - Keith won his first and only KK back in 2001 where he spanked me by over 16min. Built like a bull dog.
6. Oliver Utting - this former national track and field team member (Marathon, Edmonton World Champs in 2001) has a 2:19 Marathon PB to his name. Apparently isn't so nimble on the downhills, but with wheels like his, I'm sure he can make it up in other ways.
7. Gord Corby - he's a bit of a dark horse as he rarely races, but when he does, watch out. He somewhat famously came out of nowhere to win STORMY four years ago. Apparently he's got a pretty quick Ironman (sub 9) PB to his name.
8. Chris Downie - 190lbs of solid trail runner. This guy can climb with the best of them and he absolutely rocks the downhills. Top 5 for Chris.
9. Kim Steed - although this is Kim's first Ultramarathon (at least as a runner), he is an aerobic machine (and a wicked guy). He doesn't have the front end speed, but he's tough both mentally and physically. Could finish as high as seventh, depending on how badly the front end beats itself up.
10. Me (Eric Langhjelm) - of course I have to include myself (whether I warrant mention or not...it's my blog!). "My" year to win it was 2002, but I had a complete mental collapse and ran like a rookie. I have few regrets, but wasting my fitness (and nearly a year of complete focus and dedication) that year has never sat well with me. I don't have the 31-32 min 10km speed that I had five years ago, but my stamina is vastly improved. If I run smart - controlled and patient - I have a shot at top three. But who knows, I could break 5 hours and not even make the top 3.

In addition to those mentioned above, there are at least 10 other guys with previous top 5 performances to their name who could wreak havoc this weekend. Sorry guys...be nice if you pass me.

I'm excited and can not wait to get up on Saturday morning. It's going to be hot, it's going to be fun (in a weird way), and the beer at the banquet is bound to be amazing!

Run Strong!

Eric

Knee Knacker Training Run - First Half

50 or so brave souls showed up at the Knee Knacker start line just off of Westport Road to tackle the first half of the course.

Reports from last week's first 3/4's training run were of deep snow, buried trail markers, and some runners approaching hypothermia at the highest elevations.

With those reports in mind, I seriously considered not tackling Black Mountain and the Hollyburn sections of the course until race day. I hate snow, I hate being cold and my new trail shoes hadn't arrived from the US yet.

However, while laying in bed last night I tried to remember as much as I could about my only three times going up the "beast" - Black Mountain.

I really couldn't remember much other than a spectacular view from the Bluff and cramping up fairly significantly coming down the ski run into the first transition. Oh yeah, and suffering over the last 3/4's everytime because I tried to be the hero just a tad too early.

I resigned myself to the fact that today was going to be another early wake up call. Thankfully my wife took one for the team by getting three times through the night to feed our son so I could get as much rest as possible.

My goal today was to run / hike at what I felt would be as close to race effort as possible. I had run 10 miles up in Squamish at a relatively hard pace the day before, so I knew that I would feel a little rough for the first 15 minutes or so.

True enough, I felt sluggish and even a little queasy as we headed up the Trans Canada trail towards the new connector trail that takes you across Nelson Creek and over to the Baden Powell (BP). As an aside, this relatively new start to the Knee Knacker is much more enjoyable than the old route which would have you run down the on ramp to the highway, then straight up Black Mountain.

Within minutes, it was down to two of us - Chris Downie and myself. Now, Chris is a pretty quick runner, having put the boots to me a couple weeks early at a 5 Peaks race by more than 3 minutes. However, Chris is 190 lbs and I'm 145ish so I figured he was going to have to eat my dust on the climb. Apparently appearances are deceiving as Chris promptly started pushing the pace, me hanging on for dear life, questioning whether I should let him go or not.

Instead of easing up, I started talking, hoping to drag Chris into a conversation which would hopefully slow the pace down. Im not sure if it worked, but we carried a great conversation all the way to Cleveland Dam.

The Cabin Lakes section of the course, which is just a few minutes past the Bluff, was a mess. The options were mud, snow, or lake. Since there was no way around the muck, we just plowed through. There was some flagging up to help us on our way, but we still managed to get turned around a few times.

Because of the construction on Cypress for the Olympics, a new section has been built for the Baden Powell which takes you down the west side of Black Mountain and connects with the Yew Lake trail. Although this section is probably shorter than the old route down, it's considerably harder, our quads feeling like hamburger by the bottom.

I was excited to see that we made it through the first 1/4 of the course in 1:31, just a few minutes off of my best time from my second attempt at the course. And I felt great.

After a short water break, we were off to tackle the second 1/4 - Cypress to Cleveland Dam. Although Black Mountain can be challenging, it's the 2nd 1/4 of the course, with it's nearly 3,000 feet of downhill terrain that can be difficult at times.

I'm a terrible downhill runner, so I always approach this section with trepidation. Others, like Kevin Titus, the legendary course record holder, eat this section up. A few years back Kevin absolutely rocked this section, running it in 58min!

Fortunately for me, the snow and downed trees slowed the pace down a bit. That being said, there were some pretty sketchy sections heading down to Hollyburn Lodge. Hopefully we will get 10 days of smoking hot weather to melt the snow enough to make passage relatively easy.

My plan was to turn off at Brother's Creek and head down to Millstread Road, then find a pay phone to call my wife to come get me. However, I was enjoying the company so much I decided to go all the way to the Dam.

We finally reach Cleveland Dam in just over 2:44, a great pace considering the conditions and that Chris ran from his house in Kits to the start of the run!

Feeling a little fresher than I had hoped for, I turned onto the Cap Pacific and ran to Ambleside, then over to John Lawson Park (17th and Marine) where I finally caved and called my wife. So that I wouldn't feel like a total wimp, I had her meet me half way...

With the last long run out of the way, it's taper time!

Enjoy the sun.

E