Race Recap: Mommathon 10K

Okay, obviously I’m not a Mom, so it may seem incongruous that I’m writing a recap of the first ever Mommathon race, but this event was open to everyone, not just moms. It was a joint effort between Uberthons and the Tigard/Hillsboro chapter of Moms RUN This Town (with fellow Run Oregon blogger Robin York playing an integral role in the planning and organizing). I knew there would be some Run Oregon presence at the race, so about a month ahead of time, I paid the registration fee and signed up.

As you can see from the race logo/medal design, this wasn’t just a race. It was also a fitness challenge. Angel’s Fitbody Bootcamp set up five fitness events to be tackled (voluntarily, of course) after running: push ups, plank, jump rope, box jumps, and burpees. Points would be awarded for the top male and female finishers (#1-5) in each event, and combined with points for placing (#1-3) in age groups in the 5K or 10K events, to crown overall male and female fitness champs.

Now, I’m a runner, not a cross-fitter/boot camper, but I do try to get in some weight training at least twice a week. Based on how I’ve done in past Uberthons events, I figured I had a pretty good chance of scoring points in the 10K. In retrospect, I was mistakenly overconfident about how I could do in the fitness events, because I had misread the FAQ and thought (incorrectly) that the fitness challenge events would also be scored by age group. Hey, how many M45-49 would show up for the Mommathon?, I wondered. I also checked with Run Oregon blogger/trainer Annette Vaughn to see what sort of benchmarks she thought I would need to hit to be competitive.

For the five weeks or so leading up to the race, I switched from doing dumbbell bench presses to doing push-ups, improving from a single set of 20 to 25 and then to 30. Also, a couple of times a week after running on the treadmill in the gym, I worked on jumping rope.

The Race:

A year ago, the Portland area had just emerged from Snowmagedden, but another blast of icy rain around this time made for fairly severe running conditions. (See my recap of the 2014 Fort Vancouver Run for an example.) In 2015, we’ve just had the warmest winter ever in Portland. The last day of February turned out to be a perfect day for the Mommathon.

The race location was Liberty High School in Hillsboro, off the same freeway exit as the Hops baseball stadium (but the opposite direction). With a race time of 9:00 a.m. for the 10K and 9:15 a.m. for the 5K, I set my alarm for 7:30, which I figured would be more than enough time to eat a light breakfast, make the 30ish minute drive, pick up my race packet, stash the goodies bag back in my car, and get ready for the 10K. Temperature-wise, it was in the low-40s, which is right around the “do I wear running tights” threshold, but I banked on the temperature rising and went with shorts. I did put on a Columbia Sportswear Omni-Heat long-sleeve shirt, thin glove liners, and ear warmers.

I arrived around 8:30, easily found parking, and headed over to packet pick-up. The goodie bag came with several energy bars, some coupons to Dick’s Sporting Goods, and flyers for other upcoming races. I brought the bag back to my vehicle, put on my racing bib, and headed back to the race track. Soon after, I found fellow Run Oregon blogger Marilyn Tycer, who was also running the 10K. (Unlike me, she was also signed up for the next day’s Fort Vancouver 5K/12K Run! I like racing, but I’m a once- or maybe twice-a-month racer; props to those who run two races in a weekend.)

I normally like to line up near but not at the very front of the pack. I also start too fast at pretty much every one of my races. Wondering if the two were connected, I decided to start nearer the middle. I also told myself I wouldn’t be bothered by any congestion at the beginning of the race and that I would be okay with a slower-than-average first mile.

But old habits die hard, and when race director Darwin Rasmussen rang the bell to start the race, I went out fast, slipping to the side to get past some of the congestion. We started on the far end of the track and ran counterclockwise to cover about 2/3 of a lap before veering out toward the east parking lot, and then off school grounds.

Most of the route was on roads, and there were a few cars at various times during the race. There were plenty of volunteers manning the key intersections and stopping traffic for runners as necessary. Where possible, I still ran opposite traffic – another ingrained habit, and one that I have no intention of trying to get rid of. Past the 1 mile marker, the route turned left to trace the upper left part of the map – the part that looks sort of like a trapezoid. The left and upper parts of the trapezoid had slight rises, broken up by the water station at the 1.5 mile mark. By the time I completed tracing the trapezoid, I could see a line of 5K runners headed the opposite direction from me.

Somewhere around the 2.5 mile mark, I got passed by a couple of runners. Judging by how fast they were going, I figured they were 5K racers who’d made up the headstart that I’d gotten as a 10K racer. (10Kers going that much faster than I was would’ve blown past me much earlier, even if they’d started at the back of the pack.) Back at Liberty High School, I ran evenly back to the track, covered the 2/3 of the lap, and reached the start/finish line. The bell that Darwin had used to start the race was right there, under the overhead timing chip readers. I ran around the bell and headed back out for the second time through the 5K course.

As I wrote in my recap of the Turkeython,

Doing a 5K loop a second time for a 10K race is something of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it can feel tedious to have to cover ground that you’ve already covered before, and it’s hard to avoid wondering, why am I still out here?. On the other hand, the course is fresh in your mind, so you might be able to pace yourself better.

That held true for me on this route as well, but for some reason, I didn’t feel the same mental fatigue. I think I did pace myself better than I usually do, notwithstanding the still-too-fast first mile. There were more runners on the race course now (5K runners, walkers, and strollers), but there was still plenty of room on the road for most of the time other than a 1/4 mile stretch from mile 5.5 to 5.75, when most of us were on the same side of the road with cars going in both directions. I waved a runner coming toward me to scoot to the shoulder; I think he thought at first that I was just trying to get more running room, but I pointed to a car coming behind him.

The local running organization Girls on the Run of Portland, which received a portion of the race fees, provided a couple of “Finish Fairies” who ran the course as sweepers to encourage everyone to finish:

I caught up to the Finish Fairies on my second time past the water station. That was one of the nice touches to this race. Darwin had announced at the start of the race that the Finish Fairies would ensure that no one else would finish last. I’m sure the encouragement was appreciated.

Also just past the 5 mile mark, I heard a runner catching up to me. Hmm, this is odd, I thought to myself. Not odd that I would get passed, but that it would happen so relatively late in the race. I didn’t think it could be a 5K runner, because at that point, I’d been running for over 37 minutes, and any runner who was fast enough to be closing in on me would’ve finished 5K long ago. It could’ve been a 10Ker, but I would’ve thought that fast 10Kers would’ve started near the front.

The runner (later, I would learn that he was Art O’Kelly) caught up to me and asked me what time I was aiming for. I know that in half-marathons and marathons, it’s not uncommon to chat with other runners, especially early on, because you just can’t go too fast without burning yourself out. But in a 10K? True, it’s not 5K pace, but I run my 10Ks at faster than threshold/tempo pace, so conversation is not easy. But I managed to get out my goal time (~44 minutes). “Oh, nice,” he said. I thought it would be impolite not to return the question, and he answered (rather easily) that this was just a training run for him.

He stayed with me for most of the rest of the race. I kept thinking, Go ahead, drop the hammer and let me draft behind you! Ah, well, it was just a training run for him, so he did not drop the hammer. As we neared the end, I gradually picked up my pace, and when I hit the track for the last 2/3 of a lap, I went into as much of a sprint as I could manage.

I crossed the finish line and staggered out of the way of anyone else finishing behind me. A volunteer handed me the very nice finisher’s medal, and I snagged a bottle of water from the ample supply. (Or maybe another volunteer handed me one; I was so addled that I don’t recall.) The fitness challenges awaited, but I needed to recover first. While guzzling down water like it was going out of style, I dropped the race medal off in my vehicle and then headed back in no hurry.

The fitness challenges

Plank, jump rope, push ups, burpees, and box jumps. I’d given a little thought to the order, mostly along the lines of separating the arm heavy challenges (plank, push ups) and the leg heavy ones (jump rope, box jumps) from each other. The challenges were laid out in a line, with each station manned by 2-3 trainers or volunteers. Each one had a dry erase board identifying the challenge and listing the top 5 participants (by gender) thus far.

Remember how I had thought that the fitness challenges would be ranked by age group? Yeah, this was when I discovered my mistaken reading. There were categories for men, women, and kids. That actually made sense. Otherwise, someone who was the only person in his/her age group would maxed out the fitness challenge points automatically!

I decided to tackle the plank first. The top time on the board was just over 3 minutes, and then the next one was less than a minute. Since the race itself had skewed heavily toward female entrants, there weren’t that many men from which to draw participants. I got into a group with another guy, a women, and a kid. We all started elbow planks at the same time. One of the trainers called out the elapsed time at roughly 30-45 second intervals.

I don’t normally bother with planks, preferring ab wheel rolls for my core work, but I had been practicing planks a bit the past few weeks. 2 minutes is about where I typically give up. On that day, however, with competitive juices going given the other people planking at the same time, I just closed my eyes and suffered in silence. My form lagged, however, and the woman next to me periodically alerted me that my knees were dipping too low.

45 seconds . . . 90 seconds . . . 2 minutes . . . Have you ever watched “Survivor” when they have those individual immunity challenges that are basically nothing more than a test of whether you can endure more discomfort than the other contestants? That’s what this felt like. I got past the 3 minute mark, moving me ahead of the top male score on the board, but the other guy planking with me was still going strong. At 4:10, I dropped out. The other guy went over 5 minutes. He, it turned out, was one of the fitness trainers. He finished first or second in every one of the five fitness challenges.

After a suitable rest period, I went to the box jump station next. These were done on tires lying on their sides. I had the option of jumping on the big tire, but I went with the one that the top scorer thus far (39 box jumps in one minute) had used. I hadn’t practiced box jumps, but running seemed to provide a decent base for them, as I managed to tie the then-top score even after running 10K.

I looked at the push up results. The two top men had done 46, and third place had done 31 …. My max during the past couple of weeks has been 30. Top five score, but I had noticed that the same guy (that trainer) was at the top of the board on just about everything. Even with the points from winning my age group in the 10K, I didn’t think I could catch him, so it made me wonder whether I even wanted to suffer through the push ups.

I decided to put those off for now and try the jump rope next. Well, after a long break, anyway. I think this was when Uberthons started announcing the race winners and taking podium pictures, so I got called over for the male 10K results. I also received a loaf of Dave’s Killer Bread (honey wheat) as the second place prize. And then, the 10K winner generously directed the $50 Dick’s Sporting Goods certificate to me, because he couldn’t accept it given that he’s a collegiate runner. Woo hoo!

The jump rope challenge was based on the number of rope revolutions within 2 minutes, or when you messed up, whichever came first. In practice, I had never made it more than 45 seconds before getting caught. The top number on the board was 228. I started with a relaxed pace, as it would be embarrassing to trip after, say, 20 spins. I got up to 106 and then messed up. That ended up being 5th.

Burpees came next. Does anyone like burpees? Let’s just say I did more in the first 30 seconds than in the latter 30 seconds, and my form was better earlier on, too. I managed 20 before time ran out, although the jump at the end of #20 was pretty pathetic. Vertical distance off the ground was probably more easily measured in millimeters than anything else.

Finally, I decided that having gone this far, I might as well do the push ups as well. I remember when 10 was my max. Starting around #5, it would feel hard. Having worked on this more than anything else in the past few weeks, I was glad to see that it wasn’t until #15 or so that I started to feel the beginnings of discomfort. I hit 25 … 30 … 31 … 32 … 33. That was good enough for third place, and the fitness challenge was about to shut down. The trainer supervising my effort told me I still had 20 seconds left and I was allowed to rest! If I rested 10 seconds, I would have 10 seconds left, and I needed 13 more push ups to tie the guys in first place. Naw, I’d had enough.  In fact, I had to roll over and do a sit up to be able to get off the ground.

The fitness challenge then closed, and the race organizers went on to the raffle prize drawings. By this time, a lot of runners had already left, so the chances of winning a prize were getting better and better. I ended up getting a $20 gift card to McMenamin’s because the first bib number called wasn’t present. (Then again, I think the race organizer had a randomly pre-generated list, which means if that person had been present, I would’ve won the next prize, which happened to be a gift certificate to Massage Envy!) Then it was time to announce the fitness challenge results.

In the end, I came in second, with an overall 19 points. The male winner was Charlie Stilfield, a fitness trainer with Angel’s Fitbody Bootcamp, who had 23 – all from the five fitness challenges, whereas I got 10 of my 19 points from the 10K. I did manage to snag a BPA-free water bottle stuffed with an energy drink and a small towel as the prize for winning one of the fitness challenges. I didn’t actually win it, but the guys ahead of me were either trainers or not present. (In fact, I would’ve won a second water bottle that way, but I demurred since I’d already gotten one, and they gave it to a nearby kid.)

Some of the women managed to put up really sick numbers. I think there was at least one woman who did 49 push ups, and the winning female plank time was over 9 minutes! As John McEnroe would say, “You cannot be serious!” The female winner was Lena Garbarino.

Review:

I had a great time at the Mommathon! Uberthons races typically go smoothly, and this one was true to form. There was ample parking, the course route was easy to follow between the cones and the volunteers, and the typical Uberthons instant printable result meant you didn’t have to sit around wondering, how did I do? Co-organizer Moms RUN This Town pulled off a great first-time event, with lots of pre-race energy, post-race prizes (including raffle items, so you didn’t have to be an elite runner to have a chance at getting something), and nice touches like the Finish Fairies.

I absolutely LOVED the fitness challenges. It might sound strange to hear that, but even after cranking a near PR 10K*, I was more pumped than I thought I would be about taking on the push-ups, etc. (Except the burpees weren’t that fun ….) I think 5K and 10K races sometimes try too hard to come up with some unique angle, and the danger is that if mashing up the run with something else doesn’t go as planned, it can end up muddling the run and the something else so that neither ends up being satisfying. This race/event, however, was completely the opposite! The fitness challenges were optional, so people who wanted just to run could do so. Those who wanted some more competition were able to get it. And it filled the post-race time nicely. I don’t think I’d want to be doing stuff like this after every race, especially in less pleasant weather, but it worked well here.

* Actually, my GPS watch (and Marilyn Tycer’s watch, too) measured the course as 6.3 miles. A 0.1 mile variance over 10K is well within a reasonable margin, but without that extra distance, I would’ve PR’d by about 10 seconds. [UPDATE: This course was USTA-certified, so the variance was due to my running. Runner’s World‘s Greg McMillan points out that measured courses go by actual, shortest possible distance, which runners are unlikely to be able to follow because of other runners, corners that can’t be cut on race day, etc., with the result being that GPS watches pretty much always report longer distances.]

It was a shame that many runners had already left by the time the raffle started, but I think that’s not uncommon at the races where I’ve stuck around to the end. On the other hand, like I noted, that increased the odds of winning for those who stay.

Finally, as you would expect with a race name like the Mommathon, this one skewed even more toward women participants than the typical non-marathon race. The 10K was almost 90 percent women, and the 5K was well over 80 percent.

 

Mommathon Pictures:

* Uberthons has posted pictures of many racers on their individual results page (find the race you were in, 5K or 10K, and then click on your name, which will pull up your own results page; there’s a tab for photos).

* Photos by Casey Jeffery can be found here. There are over 1800, so you should be able to find one of yourself in there!

 

Mommathon Results: (click here for full, sortable results)

* denotes Master’s runner

Men’s 10K Open (10 runners)

1. Chris Poole, 36:13

2. Tung Yin*, 44:53

3. Art O’Kelly, 45:33

Women’s 10K Open (85 runners)

1. Jennifer Enge*, 37:30 [broke Uberthons female 10K record]

2. Nikki Rafie*, 42:01

3.  Mariah Jeffery, 48:08

Men’s 10K Masters

1. Mike Nahorney, 48:41

2. Brian Stocks, 49:26

3. Carmelo Mejia, 54:22

Women’s 10K Masters

1. Lena Garbarino, 49:26

2. Laura Morrison, 49:35

3. Adrienne Enghouse, 51:37

 

Men’s 5K Open (42 runners)

1. Christopher McIsaac, 16:02

2. Marty Dieterich, 16:37

3. Jose Elias Avalos, 20:26

Women’s 5K Open (183 runners)

1. Rachel Peters, 20:32

2. Lori Cox, 20:40

3. Ashlee Brown, 22:42

Men’s 5K Masters

1. Jason Sledd, 20:43

2. Joe Urbina, 21:53

3. DuWayne Olson, 22:23

Women’s 5K Masters

1. Linda Degman, 26:21

2. Amy Palmer, 28:36

3. Andrea Thomas, 28:49