Monday, April 25, 2011
Sliding Scale of Eloquence
Quoting Amis, quoting Nabakov, who was remarking on his inability to extemporize: "I think like a genius, I write like a distinguished author, and I speak like a child."
Sunday, April 24, 2011
That time of year
Joined D__ for a ride and run starting at 9:30 from Glen Echo park. The ride went great. The run, well, let's say I'm not recovered from last weekend. It was a nice day, but it did get hot; the car thermometer said 85 degrees while driving home, and it's humid. Wow do I miss those 35 degree Sunday runs, and even the indoor rides, in January and February.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
A Walk (Run) in the Park
This morning was the Wrigley Start Early 5K/10K. I had never run it before and found it decidedly second rate. It began in Grant Park near the start/finish of the Chicago marathon but was entirely on sidewalks rather than actually blocking off streets with the attendant cost but comfort for runners. Because of the crowding, one woman fall within the first 100 yards or so and took a nasty tumble. The race organizers also didn't ban racing strollers which were a major hazard given the narrow conditions. The occasional bicyclist coming the other way didn't help either. Any thoughts of a pr were long gone by the first mile run and it just wasn't much fun.
On the bright side, I ran much of the way with my associate dean and a bit with a student of mine. Most importantly, my daughter and a friend did the 5K and are psyched for more races. That plus brunch with the Loyola runners made it a decent day but a lousy race.
On the bright side, I ran much of the way with my associate dean and a bit with a student of mine. Most importantly, my daughter and a friend did the 5K and are psyched for more races. That plus brunch with the Loyola runners made it a decent day but a lousy race.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Downhills and Tailwinds
Today saw the two fastest marathons ever run and four athletes -- including Ryan Hall -- under last year's Boston record. That's why this is not a world-record-certified course: it's downhill, and every so often you get tailwinds from start to finish. Today was such a day.
You'd think with the bigger sail I present I would have gained something from that as well, but I was 8:16 over goal. Pacing went pretty well, until it didn't (about mile 20, where you'd expect things to start hurting).
5368 Huffman, Max 37 M Washington DC USA
5k 10k 15k 20k Half 25k 30k 35k 40k
0:20:37 0:41:26 1:02:36 1:23:57 1:28:32 1:45:05 2:07:36 2:32:19 2:57:10
Finish: Start Offset Pace Proj. Time Offl. Time Overall Gender Division
00:03:12 0:07:11 3:08:15 2616 2407 1616
A few notes:
1. Wellesley College at mile 13 is everything it is cracked up to be. Only being married and a deeply held fear of rejection kept me from taking a 10 minute hiatus and kissing co-eds. Others weren't so inhibited.
2. The crowd support here is unbelievable. From mile 21 on, there is not a foot of road not lined shoulder to shoulder with cheering fans.
3. It was really, really funny watching the police playing whack-a-mole trying to tamp down public urination at the start in Hopkinton. When they chased down one poor schmuck, three others would dive in the bushes behind their backs.
4. One of the few badly thought-through logistical matters was the bussing from Boston Commons to Hopkinton. There were perhaps 10,000 super-saturated marathoners loaded onto busses without restrooms, where we sat for 45 minutes en route to the start. When the bus unloaded, the entire bus ran straight into the woods.
5. You meet some really cool people here. I chatted on the bus with a British expat living in California who finished 8th in the Western States 100 ultramarathon last year. He was fitting this run in between a 50 miler last weekend, and a 50K next, with his ultimate goal the Comrades Ultramarathon.
A couple of updates: The expat was Ian Sharman. He was modest enough not to tell me that he was the guy who went an astounding 12:44 in the flat and fast Rocky Raccoon 100 mile in Texas, this year. That's in the range of a 7:40 pace.
And I forgot to note one index of just how much Boston loves its marathon: the road over which we raced was mostly newly paved, and it was newly striped. The road crews had painted the mile markers in the road, using the road-crew-stencil lettering (none of this race-director-with-a-can-of-spraypaint stuff).
You'd think with the bigger sail I present I would have gained something from that as well, but I was 8:16 over goal. Pacing went pretty well, until it didn't (about mile 20, where you'd expect things to start hurting).
5368 Huffman, Max 37 M Washington DC USA
5k 10k 15k 20k Half 25k 30k 35k 40k
0:20:37 0:41:26 1:02:36 1:23:57 1:28:32 1:45:05 2:07:36 2:32:19 2:57:10
Finish: Start Offset Pace Proj. Time Offl. Time Overall Gender Division
00:03:12 0:07:11 3:08:15 2616 2407 1616
A few notes:
1. Wellesley College at mile 13 is everything it is cracked up to be. Only being married and a deeply held fear of rejection kept me from taking a 10 minute hiatus and kissing co-eds. Others weren't so inhibited.
2. The crowd support here is unbelievable. From mile 21 on, there is not a foot of road not lined shoulder to shoulder with cheering fans.
3. It was really, really funny watching the police playing whack-a-mole trying to tamp down public urination at the start in Hopkinton. When they chased down one poor schmuck, three others would dive in the bushes behind their backs.
4. One of the few badly thought-through logistical matters was the bussing from Boston Commons to Hopkinton. There were perhaps 10,000 super-saturated marathoners loaded onto busses without restrooms, where we sat for 45 minutes en route to the start. When the bus unloaded, the entire bus ran straight into the woods.
5. You meet some really cool people here. I chatted on the bus with a British expat living in California who finished 8th in the Western States 100 ultramarathon last year. He was fitting this run in between a 50 miler last weekend, and a 50K next, with his ultimate goal the Comrades Ultramarathon.
A couple of updates: The expat was Ian Sharman. He was modest enough not to tell me that he was the guy who went an astounding 12:44 in the flat and fast Rocky Raccoon 100 mile in Texas, this year. That's in the range of a 7:40 pace.
And I forgot to note one index of just how much Boston loves its marathon: the road over which we raced was mostly newly paved, and it was newly striped. The road crews had painted the mile markers in the road, using the road-crew-stencil lettering (none of this race-director-with-a-can-of-spraypaint stuff).
Saturday, April 16, 2011
PRs
I frankly thought I would never set another PR. Two years of plantar faschiastis plus aging tend to send one's thoughts in that direction. But today I perservered through some 40s with rain and wind, and even a porta potty break to log a 1:29:57 at the Lakefront 10 Mile and lop 3 seconds off my PR from 2005 at this distance. I thought I was 7 seconds over but let's hear it for chip times versus clock time. Today I am a happy guy.
Probably though not as happy as my wife and daughter who are sitting by a pool in Florida. Unfortunately my spring break never coincides with my daughter's. Oh well. Now back to procrastinating on my article for the Loyola-Haifa memorial day workshop. Wait, I think there is another episode of The Good Wife to catch up on TiVo.
Probably though not as happy as my wife and daughter who are sitting by a pool in Florida. Unfortunately my spring break never coincides with my daughter's. Oh well. Now back to procrastinating on my article for the Loyola-Haifa memorial day workshop. Wait, I think there is another episode of The Good Wife to catch up on TiVo.
Expo Extraordinaire
I've seen some race expos over the years. My first was the Cincinnati marathon, when my roommate J__ actually bought shorts from one of the racks. I'd never imagined doing something so spontaneous with one's wallet. Expos have seemed to get bigger as time has passed, which may be because I'm running bigger races or it may be because vendors realize people want proof they were here, and they're willing to pay for it. Expos aren't really about running. They're spontaneous shopping malls. True story: at the National Marathon/Half expo three weeks ago, the busiest vendor was the McDonalds booth.
But compared to those flea markets, this place is insane. Number pick-up is the same as at any overstuffed big-city race, but here the volunteers look like marathoners themselves. I guess if I lived here I'd volunteer. I ask if mine is the winning number (I love that gag), but she was ready. "They all are." I'm somewhere in the 5000s, which lets me go with the first wave. But that first wave is 9000 runners, which is a major marathon in itself. (I've been doing a little research on the finishing times. If I hit my "A" goal, I may have a shot at a top 1300 finish, and I'll be running in a crowd across the line.)
You then exit from there into the paraphernalia room, with racks on racks of gray, lime green and white (this year's colors), and crowds so thick you can't move reaching for the proof that they don't just run, they race. Here I've got a leg up on the crowd: my colleague P__ advised me this would occur, and I ordered mine online. I snapped a few shots over the crowd and wondered aloud to P__ (different P -- it's hard to maintain anonymity when everybody I know seems to be named P__) whether we were here to run or to shop. Having enjoyed my public moment of cynicism, I have to confess I'll probably order more paraphernalia online. I doubt it's very often that I can afford to come back here.
An aside: man is this an athletic crowd. I'm the odd man out without a prior year's Boston jacket. And everybody looks fast. In fact, everybody's kids look fast.
Then come the rows of handouts, like Saturday afternoon at Costco but it doesn't taste nearly as good. I ask for an explanation from the 5-hour energy girl how that little vial works so well, and whether it would decrease my life span in the process. She assured me I was safe, which went nowhere toward assuring me of anything. GNC convinced me I'd do better with a few vitamin C chews, which are like Starbursts. I didn't need much convincing, because, well, the chews are like Starbursts. And free. But GNC must have been right, because POM said the same thing about their pomegranate blueberry juice. And just after I had seen that firm's co-owner profiled in the airline magazine -- her second profile that I've personally read in airline magazines in the past few years. I was glad to see the Cascadia Farms granola bars; with the race starting at 10 on Monday I'll need some breakfast.
On to the shoes. How many different ways can one charge close to $100 for a "barefoot running experience"? "It's the natural way to run," he said. "How is that different from my $50 racing flats?" I queried. "More padding," he replied. Huh? We escape with wallets no less intact then when we arrived, but that's because the check-out lines look like the entry door to a hip new club.
But compared to those flea markets, this place is insane. Number pick-up is the same as at any overstuffed big-city race, but here the volunteers look like marathoners themselves. I guess if I lived here I'd volunteer. I ask if mine is the winning number (I love that gag), but she was ready. "They all are." I'm somewhere in the 5000s, which lets me go with the first wave. But that first wave is 9000 runners, which is a major marathon in itself. (I've been doing a little research on the finishing times. If I hit my "A" goal, I may have a shot at a top 1300 finish, and I'll be running in a crowd across the line.)
You then exit from there into the paraphernalia room, with racks on racks of gray, lime green and white (this year's colors), and crowds so thick you can't move reaching for the proof that they don't just run, they race. Here I've got a leg up on the crowd: my colleague P__ advised me this would occur, and I ordered mine online. I snapped a few shots over the crowd and wondered aloud to P__ (different P -- it's hard to maintain anonymity when everybody I know seems to be named P__) whether we were here to run or to shop. Having enjoyed my public moment of cynicism, I have to confess I'll probably order more paraphernalia online. I doubt it's very often that I can afford to come back here.
An aside: man is this an athletic crowd. I'm the odd man out without a prior year's Boston jacket. And everybody looks fast. In fact, everybody's kids look fast.
Then come the rows of handouts, like Saturday afternoon at Costco but it doesn't taste nearly as good. I ask for an explanation from the 5-hour energy girl how that little vial works so well, and whether it would decrease my life span in the process. She assured me I was safe, which went nowhere toward assuring me of anything. GNC convinced me I'd do better with a few vitamin C chews, which are like Starbursts. I didn't need much convincing, because, well, the chews are like Starbursts. And free. But GNC must have been right, because POM said the same thing about their pomegranate blueberry juice. And just after I had seen that firm's co-owner profiled in the airline magazine -- her second profile that I've personally read in airline magazines in the past few years. I was glad to see the Cascadia Farms granola bars; with the race starting at 10 on Monday I'll need some breakfast.
On to the shoes. How many different ways can one charge close to $100 for a "barefoot running experience"? "It's the natural way to run," he said. "How is that different from my $50 racing flats?" I queried. "More padding," he replied. Huh? We escape with wallets no less intact then when we arrived, but that's because the check-out lines look like the entry door to a hip new club.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The Triathlon Market
This year World Triathlon Corporation -- a/k/a/ Ironman -- is branching out into mid-distance races with its new 5150 series. (51.50 is the number of kilometers in an Olympic/International distance race like the Chicago triathlon). I'm running one such event in DC in June and I just signed up to do some volunteering during registration at the same event. For some reason this got me thinking about market power in triathlon.
This post is unburdened by much research. I'm sure there are errors in what I think I know from observation.
WTC dominates the long-course race series with dozens of 1/2 iron and iron-distance races yearly around the globe. Competitors include the relatively new Rev3, which appears to run six races, mostly in the US (although there is a Costa Rica race). Most Rev3 races are 1/2 iron and olympic combined; only Cedar Point includes a full iron distance race. Sommer Sports is an event management/promotion firm that doesn't actually own the races it promotes, but it has some presence in the long-course business. Sommer Sports -managed events tend to be funky local races which may have a unique schtick, like the Savageman in western Maryland and the Great Floridian near Orlando. Then there is a host of independent events that are not part of a larger series, like the Grand Columbian (Washington State), the Silverman (Nevada), and the Vineman triathlon, the last of which is run every July in California wine country. (The Vineman happens to be my "A" race for the year.)
WTC occasionally, or maybe not so occasionally, buys an independent event. The Vineman 1/2-iron is now a branded 1/2 Ironman, as is the Eagleman 1/2 iron in Maryland (which Ted ran last year).
Long-course triathlon is a big dollar business. An average Ironman might have 2500 competitors paying $550 each for the privilege (> $1 million in entry fees). At least half of that is pure profit; there are very well-run races with entry fees of $200-$350 (e.g., the Chesapeakeman, Great Floridian, Great Illini and Vineman). Merchandise sales and licensing revenues must be quite large. There may be incentives provided by the host venues; Ironman St. George promises to bring 2500 athletes with their families -- maybe 6000 people? -- to a small town for at a minimum two nights each in the tourist off-season. Ironman Cozumel filled that island during a lull between cruise ships. Certainly if you are a consumer ("competitor" -- quotes intended quite ironically) it is real money; I'm already out $1000 or more in entry fees for this year and I'm still looking for a fourth race.
Although I don't follow it quite as closely, it seems to me the mid- and short-course market is pretty diffuse. That would make sense; it doesn't take much expertise to put on a home-town sprint triathlon, which are the province of PTAs and YMCAs, and any serious triathlon club can put on a more substantial race (like the DC Tri). You pretty much need a school with a swimming pool, or a lake-side park, which nearly every town has. I'm sure there are some players with more market share; WTC's 5150 series is clearly at attempt to consolidate some of those races under its umbrella and Sommer Sports promotes a substantial Florida-based short- to mid-course series. My first two races were "Bud Light" series (see the third paragraph under "history" at this link) olympic-distance races in the mid-1980s.
Deciding whether WTC has some amount of market power would be difficult. First, is the market long-course triathlon? Triathlon generally? Or even simply "endurance sporting events"? Can we segment further -- maybe define a market to be 140.6 (the iron distance in miles) races only, or how about the new 222/111 races -- 2 km (1 km for the half) swim, 200 km (100 km) bike and 20 km (10 km) run? Grand Columbian is running a longer-than-140.6 event this year: 5 km swim (rather than 3.9), 200 km bike (rather than 180) and 50 km run (rather than the 42.__ km marathon).
Is the market worldwide, nationwide, or regional? The triathlon crowd is pretty well-heeled, and for branded races people will travel the globe, or at least the hemisphere. I have no doubt that Ironman Cozumel competes head-to-head with the Silverman, run at about the same time of year.
What other than market share might inform WTC's possible dominance? The brand is (so far) pure gold, although I personally believe they are diluting it with too many halves. They are careful with the 5150 series (note that you won't see the word Ironman associated with that series). WTC has lots of pull with governing bodies, like USA Triathlon, because of its market position. Access to an adequate supply of elite athletes is a must for a major event. WTC locks them up somewhat because the grand-daddy of all races is Kona, and you only get to go by qualifying in an Ironman-branded race. But money talks: the 222/111 series (new and not yet profitable) is paying two-time Ironman Kona winner Chris McCormack to run and tout its races. Rev3 has managed to get top contenders interested. But the Great Illini? Well, I managed a top-15 finish in 2008; there's not much of an elite field there.
Not sure what this all adds up to. I do wonder this (if you made it this far): what thoughts on a paper written on competition policy issues in triathlon?
This post is unburdened by much research. I'm sure there are errors in what I think I know from observation.
WTC dominates the long-course race series with dozens of 1/2 iron and iron-distance races yearly around the globe. Competitors include the relatively new Rev3, which appears to run six races, mostly in the US (although there is a Costa Rica race). Most Rev3 races are 1/2 iron and olympic combined; only Cedar Point includes a full iron distance race. Sommer Sports is an event management/promotion firm that doesn't actually own the races it promotes, but it has some presence in the long-course business. Sommer Sports -managed events tend to be funky local races which may have a unique schtick, like the Savageman in western Maryland and the Great Floridian near Orlando. Then there is a host of independent events that are not part of a larger series, like the Grand Columbian (Washington State), the Silverman (Nevada), and the Vineman triathlon, the last of which is run every July in California wine country. (The Vineman happens to be my "A" race for the year.)
WTC occasionally, or maybe not so occasionally, buys an independent event. The Vineman 1/2-iron is now a branded 1/2 Ironman, as is the Eagleman 1/2 iron in Maryland (which Ted ran last year).
Long-course triathlon is a big dollar business. An average Ironman might have 2500 competitors paying $550 each for the privilege (> $1 million in entry fees). At least half of that is pure profit; there are very well-run races with entry fees of $200-$350 (e.g., the Chesapeakeman, Great Floridian, Great Illini and Vineman). Merchandise sales and licensing revenues must be quite large. There may be incentives provided by the host venues; Ironman St. George promises to bring 2500 athletes with their families -- maybe 6000 people? -- to a small town for at a minimum two nights each in the tourist off-season. Ironman Cozumel filled that island during a lull between cruise ships. Certainly if you are a consumer ("competitor" -- quotes intended quite ironically) it is real money; I'm already out $1000 or more in entry fees for this year and I'm still looking for a fourth race.
Although I don't follow it quite as closely, it seems to me the mid- and short-course market is pretty diffuse. That would make sense; it doesn't take much expertise to put on a home-town sprint triathlon, which are the province of PTAs and YMCAs, and any serious triathlon club can put on a more substantial race (like the DC Tri). You pretty much need a school with a swimming pool, or a lake-side park, which nearly every town has. I'm sure there are some players with more market share; WTC's 5150 series is clearly at attempt to consolidate some of those races under its umbrella and Sommer Sports promotes a substantial Florida-based short- to mid-course series. My first two races were "Bud Light" series (see the third paragraph under "history" at this link) olympic-distance races in the mid-1980s.
Deciding whether WTC has some amount of market power would be difficult. First, is the market long-course triathlon? Triathlon generally? Or even simply "endurance sporting events"? Can we segment further -- maybe define a market to be 140.6 (the iron distance in miles) races only, or how about the new 222/111 races -- 2 km (1 km for the half) swim, 200 km (100 km) bike and 20 km (10 km) run? Grand Columbian is running a longer-than-140.6 event this year: 5 km swim (rather than 3.9), 200 km bike (rather than 180) and 50 km run (rather than the 42.__ km marathon).
Is the market worldwide, nationwide, or regional? The triathlon crowd is pretty well-heeled, and for branded races people will travel the globe, or at least the hemisphere. I have no doubt that Ironman Cozumel competes head-to-head with the Silverman, run at about the same time of year.
What other than market share might inform WTC's possible dominance? The brand is (so far) pure gold, although I personally believe they are diluting it with too many halves. They are careful with the 5150 series (note that you won't see the word Ironman associated with that series). WTC has lots of pull with governing bodies, like USA Triathlon, because of its market position. Access to an adequate supply of elite athletes is a must for a major event. WTC locks them up somewhat because the grand-daddy of all races is Kona, and you only get to go by qualifying in an Ironman-branded race. But money talks: the 222/111 series (new and not yet profitable) is paying two-time Ironman Kona winner Chris McCormack to run and tout its races. Rev3 has managed to get top contenders interested. But the Great Illini? Well, I managed a top-15 finish in 2008; there's not much of an elite field there.
Not sure what this all adds up to. I do wonder this (if you made it this far): what thoughts on a paper written on competition policy issues in triathlon?
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