A Critical Email

Since my long absence from this blog, I have a few posts elsewhere that I'll be adding and updating here as I am able. This is a followup the occurred in November 2014.

I ultimately decided to send feedback about the terrible Six:02 race via email.

11/24/14

Hello Stephanie,

I recently participated in Six:02's Dallas event, the It's Your Time 6k race on November 15, with two of my coworkers. We had a good time running together and enjoyed the unusual race distance, but I have a number of critiques about the event and its execution.

The 6k race website encouraged participants to use public transportation, specifically the DART rail to reach the event, but the DART website has for a while shown an announcement that downtown DART rail stations are closed on weekends from October 25 to November 30. The announcement is front and center at DART's main website, http://www.dart.org/, and I think it was an egregious error for race organizers to fail to research and post that information for participants; and further to fail to offer any discount on expensive weekend parking in Downtown Dallas.

Since the unseasonal cold front moved in the week of the race, I can understand that the race organizers would be caught by surprise. However, it appears as if they cared not at all about the freezing temperatures and race participants. Could they perhaps have purchased hand warmers in bulk from Sam's Club a few days before the race? Could they have sent an email to participants with tips for dressing to run in such cold weather, ESPECIALLY since there were so many novice runners and this weather is unusual for Dallas? This would have been a very simple and effective task to show some concern for participants' well-being. Could the event have offered a bag check so participants could dress adequately for warmth before and after the race and leave their layers and enormous swag bags rather than carry so much while running or trek several city blocks to their cars to drop things off?

I thought that the speakers set up along the course providing upbeat music were a great touch. Maybe your team could work on a playlist for the next race that doesn't demean women. The first song I heard on the course was literally about stalking and preying on a woman like an animal (Adam Levine's deeply disturbing song "Animals").

From a Washington Times article ( http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2014/oct/2/adam-levine-accused-of-promoting-stalker-rape-in-n/ ):

Lyrics include, “Baby, I’m preying on you tonight. Hunt you down eat you alive.”

The Rape, Abuse Incest National Network told TMZ: “No one should ever confuse the criminal act of stalking with romance.”

I also recall hearing a country song about a woman 'busting out of her bikini top.' After looking online, I find that it's "Cruise" by Florida Georgia Line:

Hey baby

Yeah, when I first saw that bikini top on her

She’s poppin’ right out of the South Georgia water

Thought, "Oh, good lord, she had them long tanned legs!"

Couldn’t help myself so I walked up and said

Are you freaking kidding me? It is not that hard to find music that doesn't objectify and demean women, and I'd be thrilled to share some examples if Six:02 needs help with not alienating its target demographic.

The last song I heard as I left the festival area was Meghan Trainor's "All About That Bass," which has been heavily criticized all over the Internet all summer long. Sure, it's catchy, but the lyrics are pretty demeaning to "skinny bitches," like many of the runners I saw at the 6k. ( http://feministing.com/2014/08/06/why-meghan-trainors-body-acceptance-anthem-all-about-that-bass-is-disappointing/ )

I was further dismayed to see hundreds of yellow, white, and silver helium balloons lining the course along Katy Trail. Helium is a limited resource necessary for crucial medical purposes and scientific testing, and there is a global shortage of it. I've run two other races along that stretch of Katy Trail and enjoyed the beautiful trail itself far more than seeing such waste and many balloons popped and littering nature along the edges.

I signed up for this race because my coworker suggested it and we were intrigued by the promised "pampering" at the finish line. The massage therapists were AMAZING. Waiting in a long line in the cold, shivering in sweat, however, was not. The massage line was consistently the longest throughout the event, and I am stunned that the 6k team didn't realize a bunch of sweaty women would not be that interested in getting their hair and makeup done after running four miles. Surely these choices of "pampering" can't be indicative of what Six:02 really thinks of its customers, I hope.

A friend of mine suggested: "If you wanted to do something 'make-uppy' how about parafin treatments for windburned hands? That would be warm at least. And MORE massages, in a heated tent of course, and on a 'take-a-number' system so people could mill about and drink hot things instead of standing in line."

I would like to suggest offering a foam rolling station with a knowledgeable trainer available to show runners the best ways to work out stiff muscles and/or a station for calf and ankle massage since we'd just run a noteworthy distance.

Though I really did enjoy the course that wound through beautiful parts of downtown Dallas, chatting with and challenging my two coworkers, I feel that my enjoyment was often in spite of the event's execution. The race's organizing team misfired in a lot of ways as far as connecting with and respecting its target demographic and failed miserably at empowering women in athletics.

Thank you for your time and consideration, as well as the opportunity to send feedback about the It's Your Time 6k event.

Sincerely,

Moniqa Paullet

11/24/14

Hi Moniqa,

Thanks very much for sharing your feedback. As mentioned, I’m part of the social media team and will circle back with my teammates at SIX:02. We’ll be in touch soon.

Best,

Stephanie

It’s April 2015, and I have heard nothing further.

Lone Star Race Report

I signed up for the Lone Star Race 10k to use as proof of time for my Disneyland Half Marathon on August 31. That will not be happening now because none of the courses (5k, 10k, half) were the correct length.

I was fortunate enough to pick up my packet the day before the race, which offered a pretty sweet technical t-shirt. Little did I know that it would portend the events to come.

Saturday evening I had the misfortune of a migraine and napped from 8:30 until about 11 p.m. before heading to a friend's place in Irving to stay the night and shorten the morning drive. The Lone Star Race Series was held in Arlington and it took about 20 minutes to get there, and a panicky 20 minutes longer to find my way to open parking, lost as far as Grand Prairie based on the directions given by the organizers instead of an address for my GPS to take me to.

I arrived 7 minutes before the start of the Lone Star Race 10k/half, tears streaming down my face. I opened my car door and reached for my race belt, and the wind blew the door shut on my foot. Not terribly hard, but enough to set me crying afresh. I was SO stressed out, and I hadn't yet had a chance to use the bathroom. The portapotty line was fortunately short, and I pinned my bib while waiting in it, but there was no paper. It's a lucky thing I didn't have to go number 2, huh? And that I wore my fancy wicking runderwear.

I walked over to the start corral with seconds to spare, snapped a grouchy selfie, and then worried when the race began and the people in front of me weren't moving. Had I gotten in a corral for 5k runners only? I threaded my way to the front as the crowd slowly dispersed and managed to start about 2 minutes after the gun time.

Gloom and doom

The weather was in the low 70s with a stiff breeze and 85% humidity, which is just about the worst possible race conditions for me. Humidity saps my strength and typically adds several minutes to my pace. The Lone Star Race was a surprisingly hilly and ugly as sin road course that wound through the business districts surrounding the Ballpark at Arlington.

Around the 25-minute mark, the 5k leader ran past me. My shins ached and my calves were stiff and sore, but I soldiered on, setting a careful, smooth pace that I could maintain . . . at least until the uphill parts with headwinds. I embraced the suck, focusing on my stride and form, sure I would hate every minute of this race and recognizing that as an acceptable outcome. I knew I would finish anyway.

At the 2-mile mark, I checked my watch and my heart sank to see that I had been running slower than even a 14-minute pace. My goal for the day was 13. All three courses overlapped, and as we approached the halfway point, volunteers helpfully cheered, "Almost there!" I gave them a weak nod as other runners corrected them. Suddenly, as I reached the 3-mile mark, I had magically caught and beat my goal pace.

Now, I've always been a solid pacer, no matter the conditions. I may be slow, but my pace hardly varies even with elevation. I was tired by now and gave myself a long walk break up the next hill. I picked up my steady shuffle again and passed the 4-mile mark . . . and another 4-mile mark. Maybe one of them had been for the Lone Star Race half marathon, but we hadn't split courses yet. At the 5-mile mark I caught a second wind, having worked hard at going slow to start, and I hoped it would last me through the end. I picked up my pace and began to hope I could make my goal.

I had been dumping Powerade from the aid stations into my water bottle and now wished I had a little more water. I got some at the next aid station and a runner beside me asked worriedly if we had missed a turn. I confirmed that we'd passed the half turnoff and were all on track for the 10k, even though she thought we should have turned back toward the finish by now. I was too tired to do anything but trust and follow the course and tried to reassure her that we were probably close.

What else could we do but keep running? Well, soon after, I ran out of energy and could only walk. I thought I surely could make it to the end, but the course just kept going. And my watch just kept ticking. And my dreams kept sinking.

In the final stretch, I caught up with two run-walkers who were consulting their GPS trackers and comparing their 6.7 and 6.85 mile recordings. I remarked that it had been an awfully long time, though I only had my watch to go by. We shrugged and finished strong, stepping up the pace and smiling to cross the finish line. One confirmed for me then that it was exactly 7 miles. We hoped that our chip times were recorded at the previous timer we crossed a little less than a mile back.

I had just about 5 minutes to sit and rehydrate before the winds picked up and sprinkles fell from the sky. I headed back to my car and back to my nearby friend's place. It rained in earnest much of the way but lightened as I arrived. I walked to the pool, stripped off my outer layers, and jumped right in wearing only my sports bra and runderwear. Whatever. It was a little too cool for lounging but perfectly glorious on my overtired muscles. After a few minutes of frolicking alone in the pool, I gathered my things and headed up to the apartment for a warm bath and a nap. It was a lovely end to a less than pleasant race day.

We found out the next morning when results were posted that only the 7-mile finish line counted. And I found out on the Lone Star Race Series Facebook page that the half marathon had also run long and over a dozen 5k runners were directed to take a wrong turn and ran an extra mile when they might have placed for their age groups.

My finish time of 1:25:04 was freaking awesome for 7 miles and fucking useless as proof of time on a "10k" course. I was devastated. At Disney I'd have to start in the 16-minute pace corral with the walkers, trapped behind thousands of slow participants, which is not only irritating as hell but dangerous.

My whole month of May is booked up with obstacle races, and the Disneyland cutoff is June 1. I scoured the web for any mid-week races and contemplated skipping the Tough Mudder I'd already dropped a hundred bucks on. There was exactly one local run available on my one free day, May 11. It listed age divisions and an awards ceremony, but not a word on the page about chip timing. I emailed the listed contact to ask, and she said yes, it would be chip timed! I registered right away for the Bagel Run 10k and was especially delighted at the low fee of $20.

My Monday was saved, no thanks to the Lone Star Race Series and its weak apology email. I will definitely NOT be giving that event a second chance next year. May 11 will be hotter, but I'll have a little more time to train. I have a 5k mud run the day before, so I'll have to be careful to take it easy on that course. Ultimately, I should be able to make my pace, though.

Celebration! White Rock 5k race

Last Thursday I ran the inaugural Celebration! White Rock 5k race to benefit the White Rock Lake Conservancy. I was the only costumed runner in attendance, a first for me. I ran in galaxy tights and a blue and purple tutu in honor of SELF Magazine's #tutugate snafu and got a shout-out in the race report, another first.

Serious runner

Yet another first: nowhere to fasten my D-tag timing chip. They're designed to thread through shoe laces, though I always wear Vibram FiveFingers for running, most of which have a velcro strap that does the job. That day's shoes did not, so I had to get creative: searching my car for twine and elastic to fit my ankle and settling for carefully safety pinning the tag to my shoe without stabbing myself. It's a good thing I arrived very early with plenty of time to spare.

My only complaint about this event is that the festival and water were at the top of the Winfrey Point hill and the Start/Finish line at the bottom, so I had to hike uphill in my exhaustion, near to puking, and search for buckets of water hidden around the festival area. Once rehydrated, I forgot all my frustrations at the offer of free barbecue sliders and full-size bottles of Powerade. Way to go, event sponsors!

My chip time was 38:42.

The weather was pleasant if a little on the warm side, and the wind along the lake was a bit fierce. I really enjoy training at White Rock Lake and am grateful for the opportunity to support this organization. I look forward to running in this event again next year.

Rugged & Raw 10k

Saturday morning I ran my first 10k trail race! I had run the course once before for training two weeks prior when we happened to get a cool snap, and it was glorious.

Pre-race: Let's do this.

Saturday morning's promised storms failed to make the event, so I ended up slogging in much hotter weather than I'd trained for in grueling humidity and finished several minutes slower than the last time.  The cold front didn't move in until roughly my last mile and a half, and it brought me a second wind. The official clock put me at 1:47 total, with a 17:16 pace. The training run was 1:44, and my goal was 1:40, but considering the circumstances, I'm OK with this.

My head wasn't in it this time, and the back half was truly brutal. I felt very strong through the first half, which is the easier part of the trail. There's a particularly fierce hill near the midway point and lots of steep climbs and descents after it. There are no hills in my town, so it was a helluva struggle for me.

Post-race: Hiding the pain

But I finished in one piece and view this as good preparation for the 6-7 mile Savage obstacle race I'm running on November 23. I finally have the motivation to incorporate hills and trail running into my training on a regular basis and am scheduled to do a training run with a friend tomorrow at a local nature preserve. Its hills are kinder but still difficult for me.

Major kudos to the event staff. This is Rugged & Raw's third year, and the race is capped at 200 runners. For such a small event, I was thoroughly impressed. The trails were marked wonderfully clearly. There were two aid stations on the course in addition to the one at the start/finish, and they all had water, Gatorade, AND Gatorade energy chews, which have been my product of choice so far. The swag bag included a sweet tech tee, a cool rubber bracelet, a package of energy chews, a package of wheat flatbread, and a couple of small product samples. Though I typically go for medals, I was perfectly happy with the shirt and overall organization.

I just found the overall race results. I placed 89th out of 101 10k runners and 43rd out of 53 women 10k runners. It's not good but not last. I'm eager to see how much I can improve and will try to fit this race into my calendar next year.

The Rugged & Raw 10k/20k race supports Back on My Feet, an organization that uses running to inspire self-sufficiency and independence among the homeless population and to help them find employment and housing.

Running ain't just for affluent, cranky, middle-aged white men any more.

This article, The Slowest Generation: Younger Athletes Are Racing With Less Concern About Time,
has been circulating a few of my groups lately, and I have a lot to say about it. In it, a middle-aged runner complains at length about the decline in the number of competitive racers among the millenial generation—a new twist on the tired "Wah, wah, millionals suck, get off my lawn" theme.

Before reading the article, I said I had mixed feelings about the issue. Aren't there a number of elite and timed road racing events, some of which require qualifying times? Aren't there a number of mud run events that provide chip timing and elite waves in addition to open waves for everyone else? To suggest that greater interest in movement and fitness activities and greater inclusion is a negative thing is some snooty, privileged, disablist bullshit. Everyone who wants to should be allowed to participate in fun fitness events safely.

HOWEVER, these events absolutely need to limit the number of registrations they accept in order to maintain a fun and safe environment for everyone who participates. I've been learning first-hand in the last two years about shitty fucking races that are poorly organized, poorly budgeted, and straight-up dangerous: Patriot Games in Denton 2011, Firefly in Plano 2012, Mud Factor 5k in DFW this year, and the egregiously aggravating Neon Splash Dash in Arlington last weekend.*

On the upside, I'm planning 2014 more carefully around established and proven events, with a greater focus on half and full marathon road races than fun runs, adventure runs, and obstacle runs. But these hellish gimmicky first-time events are endangering their participants, leaving a bad taste in their mouths, and literally turning them off to running altogether.** THAT is what is doing the sport of running a disservice, not participants who are not competitive.

Since reading the article, I would like to say that I think the author draws a lot of faulty conclusions and is probably not very good at math. Because of the explosion in fun run event popularity, there are more races for competitive runners to choose from, so you're less likely to compete against the best at any one event, AND there are thousands more run-walkers and walkers registering and skewing the median and average result times without necessarily impacting the number of competitive runners out there, just the percentage.

I don't know anything about Olympic and world championship racing, but I fail to see how it is related to regular road races and fun run events, which happen to get more people into running at all levels of ability who never would have tried it in the first place. You can't open a running mag without seeing a profile on a now-competitive runner who got into the sport "for fun."

I find it interesting/disappointing that the Tough Mudder uses dis/able-ist language, calling timed races "lame," and am especially glad I passed that one up for the Spartan Beast instead.***

*I should put together a page where I review the events I've run and link it here.

**A friend of mine had so much difficulty getting to Neon Splash Dash and was treated so poorly at the event and refused any kind of refund that she has sworn off all races.

***My buddy bailed, so it looks like I'm going alone. Drop me a line if you'd like to run with me, pretty please.

Neon Splash Dash 5k-Fail

My friends and I had the distinct displeasure of running shuffling through a 5k 4k fun run this weekend, so here I want to review the Neon Splash Dash (Dallas) at the Ballpark at Arlington.

It's pretty obvious that the Neon Splash Dash organizers know approximately jack and shit about the location of the race they hosted. Early packet pickup was held at a location in Dallas at least an hour from the event itself. This is great for me because it was near my office, so I got my stuff and a friend's, and two other friends also live near the pickup. The 5th in our party, though, lived on the far side of town and had already arrived at the event and paid for parking before realizing she forgot her ticket, and the check-in table refused to accept and scan it from her smart phone. Others of us were already on the road and unable to help, so she went home in tears, unable to run at all.

The rest of us arrived about an hour before the first wave, and a good thing, too, since it took a full 20-25 minutes once we arrived to park and walk to the event. The first wave was scheduled to take off at 8 and did start shortly after that. Each wave would be divided into a few hundred people with runners at the front, followed by joggers and walkers. Except that's not what happened because the Neon Splash Dash was so egregiously oversold with many thousands of people too many for the venue. We wanted to get into a jogging wave, but there was no organization, just a massive crowd milling near-ish the starting line, moving 10-15 feet closer as each wave was released. We couldn't hear a word from the announcer but finally passed the start line at 8:32.

I'm in the purple fluffies.

The course itself was marked by nearly invisible traffic cones without even reflective tape and wound back and forth through a parking lot. Yeah. Unable to see the Neon Splash Dash course or any of its turns, we had no choice but to follow the crowd and try to shuffle through, with no opportunity to run except for the slowest of slow trots.

A few runners passed, courteously calling out as they did, "Walkers to the left!" A woman near me remarked in a nasty tone, "Guess they didn't get the memo that it's about FUNness not fitness," like she was so clever. So I shouted back, "Guess some people didn't get the memo about basic race etiquette. And just what the hell do you think DASH means, anyway?"

The splash zones where they sprayed us with neon water were actually well-lit and well-padded with a great cushion to absorb extra wetness before runners stepped out onto the pavement again. That was a good design.

I quickly lost count of participants that I saw darting across race markers from one turn to the next, skipping every possible corner. Three of found an easy pace, including myself and an extra we picked up through Meetup who had run a 10k obstacle that morning and was grateful for an easy run, and we jogged the whole course and finished together in 34:37. Hm. I'd run a 5k less than a week ago, found it very taxing, and finished in 39:37. I definitely did not pick up 5 minutes in a week while chatting comfortably throughout and without breaking a sweat. I'm guessing the course was about 2.5 or 2.65 miles instead of the purported 3.1. An email from Neon Splash Dash had this to say about it:

The course was marked by Police Officers & Ex-Military Soldiers with 25+ years of service. They take pride in doing their job, and doing it well. We take extreme attention to detail when it comes to measuring the course. We can assure you that the course as marked was EXACTLY 5k in distance. Additionally, we would NEVER mark a course with curbs & sidewalks you would have to cross over, and this course definitely didn't have any as we marked it. HOWEVER- during the event, there are always a select few who would rather take short cuts than to stay on the marked course. We don't mind, except that when they do that everyone behind them tends to follow. That is exactly what happened Saturday night. A few decided to take some shortcuts, and lead a number of you off course, over curbs/sidewalks while cutting some distance off at the same time. As soon as it was brought to our attention, we scrambled as many Staff & Volunteers over to re-correct and get you back on track.

I'm really glad that Neon Splash Dash emailed me a link to participate in a survey about the event, and I really enjoyed filling it out.

Where do you think we should advertise in order to obtain more participants?

Maybe you should put that effort into improving the safety* and enjoyment of this event instead of unnecessary promotion. I really think you need to put a cap on this event and that having so many thousands of participants was largely a detriment to the enjoyment of it. I'll be certain never to register for this event in the future. Finding a venue that can support such numbers of people with a wider, safer course to run is imperative.

(*We passed a woman who had tripped and fallen on a deep, unmarked hole in the pavement, of which there were many throughout the course. Did I mention this was a night race?)

Besides lowering the price, what else could we do to entice more people to Register for our Event?

You were unable to adequately support and run the event for as many people as did attend; why do you think you need more? You provided only a handful of porta-potties that ran out of paper at least an hour before the race began, a course too small for the number of participants, cones that were practically invisible and mostly knocked out of place long before most runners even started instead of visible course markers. You could have used the pre-race notifications and participant packets to educate participants about basic race etiquette in order to make it safer for everyone involved.

Neon Splash Dash did get pictures posted quickly; they were up Monday after a Saturday night event. But instead of setting up a photography website that is searchable by bib number, they posted 600+ photos on Facebook and directed participants to tag themselves. As if we have the time or desire to do your photographer's job for him. Fortunately, one of my friends did get a before and after picture of us, so I feel free to do any number of better things than pore over blurry night photos.

Far right, you can almost see my twinkling tutu.

I have to say, with the raging popularity of fun run events, the scores of events available, the years of experience in race organization compiled into published books and guides, and the millions of dollars these events make on participants' registration fees, merchandise purchases, and parking fees, there is absolutely NO excuse for this kind of shoddy execution.