Smart(er) Golf

Golf is a game where one is never too old to learn how to play smarter golf. I frequently play with a guy who, during almost every round says "I wonder what would happen if I played the smart/safe shot for an entire round?" Inevitably, this is said after he tried to hit a shot so his ball would split a six inch gap between two trees only to "come so close" and have the ball go deeper into the woods.

I've often wondered why we feel the need to play beyond our own game and capabilities? Why is it that we believe that we can hit the most difficult of shots even knowing that we are not quite sure where the ball is going in the best of conditions? I guess it's because at one point, we did hit the miracle shot and believe that we can repeat that feat, or we say to ourselves "how hard can this be?" We are gullible creatures.

I'm not saying I always make the perfect decisions during around. I often stand over a shot and think "all I have to do is hit a little fade around that tree and I'll be sitting pretty..." Funny how the tree moves into the path of my ball the moment after I swing.

Golf is a lot like risk management, or would a better analogy would be that golf is like damage control.

There are a million reasons why pro golfers are pro golfers, but one of the ways that they truly separate themselves from the rest of the pack is because they they go to great lengths to play the "safe" shot and do their best to avoid the danger areas on the course.

What does this mean? Here's an example:

The following images are from Google Earth; they are of the hole at Currie Park in Milwaukee, a 353 yard par 4. Seems simple enough, eh? A slight dogleg to the right with a bunker on the left side. The end of the trees on the right are about 120 yards from the green. The green is relatively level with a slight slope from back to front and right to left.



So let's think strategically about how to approach this hole, starting at at tee box.

When teeing off, where are the obvious no-no areas? Areas where if you hit them, you are most likely going to lose a stroke (or two) to needing to hit a recovery shot?

The answer: the trees on right. The trees on the left. The bunker short-left of the green.



This holes plays to the strength of a person who hits a slight fade. He/she can aim up the left side of the fairway (or even at the trees on the left) and let his/her natural curve take the ball to the right. Obviously, if one does not aim far enough to the left, or has a significant curve (*cough* slice *cough*) then the trees on the right side will suck up the errant shot. I can vouch for this happening on more than one occasion.

So, off the tee, a decision needs to be made: risk ballooning a ball into the trees to the right if the driver can be temperamental and prone to spells or erratic behavior, or play it a bit safer by hitting a 3 wood and increasing the likelihood that the ball will find the fairway even if it is a bit further back?

The smart shot is the 3 wood.

Now, let's scenario play the second shot.

Let's say you hit a good drive (or 3 wood off the tee) and have about 150 yards left to the center of the green. The pin is short left (the blue dot). You are in the middle of the fairway (I know, keep dreaming ... but you need positive thoughts). The question is, how do you approach your next shot?

If your iron play is not very accurate, where do you want to be if you miss the green?

Looking at the next picture, there are two big no-no areas: the bunker and the rough to the left of the green. These areas are bad because they are on the short side, meaning there is very little green to work with; and from this distance it is very difficult to stop the ball close to the pin (remember, you would be coming downhill too). Leaving your second shot in these areas means there is a very good chance you will try to get too cute with your next shot and either blade it all the way across the green or, more likely, chunk it and move the ball six inches forward but short of the green.



Long-left (purple area) is far from ideal but at least you have more green to work with. The area marked in yellow would be considered the safe bailout zone. You would have plenty of green to work with, so any pitch would simply need to land on the green and start rolling towards the hole. It might be difficult judging the distance out of the rough, but they key is that there is room for error.

If you came up short of the green but still in the fairway, it would be better if you were more to the right (orange area) than the left (blue area). This is because there is more room to work with with the former than the latter. Also, in both locations, you would be coming uphill which would help control the pace of the ball on your next shot.

What all this means is that short right is okay, as is a bit further to the right.

If I'm thinking about the green, simply being on the proverbial dance floor may not mean an easy two-putt-par.

Looking at the next image, ideally you will be under the pin and maybe just a bit to the right (yellow area). This would leave you an uphill putt. It's pretty clear with this hole, and the pin location, that it is a pretty small target area so there should not be any screams of frustration if you miss this location.



Your next best option would be on the "fat" side of the green but somewhat close to pin high (the dark blue area). Placing the ball here means you've taken the bunker and the left side of the green out of the equation -- two no-no areas. This should make for a relatively easy two putt and par -- no harm done on the first hole.

If you go a bit long and right (purple), you are still on the green, but the downhill putt and distance might make two putting a bit difficult. If the conditions are dry, you might find yourself off the green with your next putt.

Finally, the least ideal spot would be the red zone because there is simply not that much room for error coming back down the hill. Also, placing the ball here would mean you've flirted with missing the green to the left which is "dead."

So, when I am looking at this green from the fairway, I would focus on zones 1 and 2. Chances are, I may not even look at the pin when aligning my shot knowing that I want to be to the right of it. This means I want to pull a club that will go about 130-140 yards (assuming the middle of the green is about 20 paces from the front) and not much further.

For this hole, with this pin, it is better to be short than long and to the right of the green than to the left of it.

So, there you go: smart(er) golf. Yes, it involves quite a bit of analysis but when applied, playing smart(er) golf can definitely save a few strokes each round.

Golfing

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I played a fair amount of golf this summer. To deviate a little bit from the running posts, I am going to make a few posts about my other passion: golf.

I have been playing golf since middle school. Maybe my dad will know when he first handed me a golf club and started to tear up the grass next to the garage. Maybe I was 9 years old. I don't remember. However, I do remember the first time I ever tried to hit a golf shot on a golf course.

My dad took me and another friend to a local Par 3 course. I squatted down to tee up my ball. I sized up the green that was about 1,000 yards away to my young eyes. Nonetheless, I licked my lips in anticipation of hitting a sweet shot that would rocket off the club face, arch high in the sky, and land softly on the green. I could almost hear the roar of the crowd applauding the shot.

I pulled the club back and with one mighty swing ... I shanked it into the pine trees immediately to the right of the tee box.

A natural I was not.

But I kept playing ... and playing ... and playing.

There were a bunch of lessons. There was golf camp (twice). There were a couple years where I played in summer tournaments. I played all through high school. I had intentions of playing in college too but after trying out my freshmen year and not doing very well, I lost interest in the game and would only play the occasional round for the next several years.

An unfortunate decision on my part.

To this day, when I go to the driving range, it only takes me a few swings to find my rhythm regardless if I haven't played in a week, a month, or six months.

When I return to the course after a long absence, I quickly realize how much I miss playing.

Looking back, I now know that I had the game but not the mental fortitude I needed to take it to the next level. I never learned how to play "smart" golf and manage a course. I lacked focus and, more importantly, confidence that I could play along aside golfers who were bigger and stronger that me.

This said, I'm glad I am finally able to play on a regular basis again and apply some of the lost lessons.

Green Bay Marathon

Looking at my list of posts that I started to draft but never finished, I noticed that I never wrote about my experience with the Green Bay Marathon that I ran at the end of May.

The morning of the marathon, we woke up to the sound of rain. In the hours leading up to the race, it rained. And it rained hard. And it rained some more.

Jody and I, like a lot of others, huddled in Lambeau field, not wanting to venture outside until the last possible moment. Then they called people to the starting corrals.

Standing in the starting corrals, it continued to rain and did so even after the starting gun went off.

But then, after the first few minutes, the rain stopped and it never started again. Even better, the clouds stuck around. There were a couple moments where the sun peaked through small gaps in the clouds and turned the course into a sauna. I cursed the heavens but let out a sigh of relief when the sun disappeared again.

My goal was to run a sub-5 hour race. I spent hours using Races to Remember to calculate my splits. What happened if I started off really slow? What would be the fastest pace that I could realistically hold for the last 6 miles -- after encountering the dreaded wall that I have hit each of the past two marathons? I calculated even splits, negative splits, "anti-cramping" splits, and even options in between. I became dangerously obsessed with the site.

What it all boiled down to was that I convinced myself that no mile for at least the first 12 should be faster than 11:00 min/mi. For the most part, I accomplished this.

Next, depending on how I felt, I could stick with this pace or increase it by a little bit. I knew if I stuck around the 11:00 min/mi I could reach my goal (a time of 4:55 averages to about an 11:15 min/mi pace).

I felt really good at the halfway point. I did my best not to get too excited. I tried to maintain a pace as close to 11:00 min/mi as possible but gradually inched my way south of the 11:00 min/mi mark.

Then, something crazy happened. As I approached mile 20, the spot where I crashed and burned last year, I caught up with the 5:00 hr pace group. I had previously thought that this group was behind me, but apparently, when I stopped twice to use the bathroom (around miles 2.5 and 5), they had passed me. Anyway, the leader of this group abides by a walk-run philosophy. They run for about .75 miles and then walk the last quarter.

When I caught up to them, they were running. And they were running fast. I ran with them. And I continued to run with them. They were going too fast for my liking, but I did not want to stop or slow down. Something clicked in me where I was determined to pass them! At one point, in my head, I screamed "Please start walking!" because I did not think I could maintain the pace ... which was closer to 10:00 min/mi. Just about as I felt my legs start to burn, the leader of the pack yells "And we're walking!" Thank goodness!

The moment when I caught up to the 5:00 hr pace group.

I kept running!

For the first time running a marathon, I did not let my head get in the way. I told myself that I was going to bust through the wall at 20. I was not going to stop!

For the next six miles, I kept the legs turning. When I hit a rough patch, I focused on my breathing to relax me and get my mind off my aching body.

When I approached Lambeau field (mile 26), surprisingly, I felt strong. I felt good. I ran my lap around Lambeau and even flashed a smile and thumbs up to the camera guy.

A thumbs up and smile in Lambeau ... at mile 26.

When I exited Lambeau and hit the slight incline to the finish line, I pushed myself to finish strong.

It might be hard to see, but at the far right is my "sprint" finish.

Not only did I achieve my goal of running a sub-5 hour marathon, I crushed it! My "gun time" was 4:55:04 but it took me a few minutes to cross the starting line. My watch and chip time gave me the same number:

I'm not sure what is next (okay, I have an idea), but I am going to remember this feeling (and what it took to reach and surpass my goal) for quite some time!

Following the Steps

I am not going to lie, I think about my safety a lot when running. I'm not talking about being mugged or robbed when I am out, but I do think about the traffic. I no longer run with headphones so this helps me stay more aware of my surroundings, but still, many drivers are oblivious to runners.

To be honest, I cannot blame all of them. Aside from simply not paying attention, often it is because I run in areas where it may not be that common to encounter runners. Also, I run through a lot of neighborhoods with intersections where the cross traffic does not stop or people do not have a good of a range of vision when backing out of their driveways. It's amazing how many people fail to look both ways or check their surroundings when driving.

My head is often on a swivel when I run and I have had to make a quick move to the side or apply my breaks to yield to the unaware.

For runs over a few miles, I will carry my phone, driver's license, and medical insurance card. I realized last year that as reassuring as it may seem to be carrying my phone, it is not a full-proof option. What happens if it breaks during a collision? What happens if the battery dies during one of my runs? How will anyone know to call Jody? I have her listed as my ICE (in case of an emergency), but will people know to look up this contact?

As a backup, I made a couple slight investments to minimize these risks.

First, I carry (not necessarily wear) an ID wristband. This wristband has Jody's contact information on it as well as our home address.

With this wristband, my phone can quit working and there is still a way to get a hold of her in case of an emergency.

The other service that I also use is Strava's Beacon. This a feature that comes with a subscription to Strava Premium, which costs about $6 a month. When I start my run via the Strava app, Beacon allows me to send a link of my run to anyone I like. This allows the person who receives the text to track my progress in real-time (with a minor delay). She can also see my phone's battery life. More importantly, she can tell if I have stopped for no apparent reason and where I stopped.

Beacon has also allowed Jody to determine when and where she decides to run with me. In the past, Jody has started my long runs with me because it is easier this way. She had a couple attempts to join me towards the end of my run, but this proved difficult. I would print my route but, the problem was, I have been known to deviate from these plans to avoid construction, hills, or because I just was not feeling the original path.

Now, with Beacon, I can deviate all I want and she is still able to follow along. She can take a couple educated guesses about my intentions, especially when I return to our neighborhood. So far, she has had only success "finding" me and joining me in the final stretches of my runs.

We Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Routine

Wow! It has been a while since I posted one of these entries. I've been thinking about them for a while. I've also wondered if I was going to let them fade into the pale blue yonder or try to resuscitate them so it can breathe for another day. Nothing like giving CPR to an inanimate blog.

For the most part, I stopped running during the summer. I had the occasional spurt of activity but the runs were few and far between. Instead, over the summer, I played golf. I played a lot of golf.

It's been a while since I had a summer where I played a couple times a week and had a handful of trips to the driving range. I purchased a new set of clubs in late March and, during my first round using them, had my first hole in one! However, not all rounds were this gratifying. At one point during the season, I developed a bad case of the shanks. Despite all the ups and downs, it felt great to play with some regularity again, even when the game wasn't in a good spot.

Alas, we do not live in Florida, so I cannot play all year. Colder temps and fallen leaves means the golf clubs are just about ready to be stashed away until next year. *Sniff* I might try to squeeze in occasional round, but with the shorter days and other obligations, it will be difficult to justify.

With the end of season, another must start. It's time to start running again!

I've realized that I prefer to run when it is cold -- sometimes "bitterly" cold outside. I find crisp and cold mornings to be be calm and quiet. There is just a general sense of peacefulness when running in the early morning hours as most people are huddled under their blankets. I can think of only a few better ways to start the morning.

Tale of Two 20-Milers

Once I set my training calendar for any marathon there are a few special runs that loom large in the later weeks of the schedule. There are a few races that I mentioned in my previous post and there are the 20-mile runs.

This year, the first run occurred on April 15 and the second two weeks later on April 29. The runs could not have gone any differently.

April 15

I had started to think about this run for over a week before it happened. I did not run the preceding week because of a conference in Omaha and some bad weather. On Sunday the 9th, I ran 13 miles and it kind of sucked.

I did run three other times during the week with no notable struggles or frustration, so there was some cause for optimism.

On Friday night, I made my first mistake. For some reason, I thought that if I ran the distance at a slower pace then what I ate for dinner would make little difference. I was wrong. That evening, as Jody and I walked around the grocery store thinking about what to have for dinner, we stopped by the fish fry station. What could go wrong?

On Saturday morning, the weather was nearly perfect. I loaded up my water belt with one bottle filled with water and the other filled with a diluted mixture of Gatorade and water. I also took my GUs. The first 15 miles were okay, but there was some discomfort in my left heal/achilles area. At just past the 15-mile mark, I crashed into the the wall.

My body ached. My stomach was not feeling 100%. I had no energy. I walked walked for about 1.5 miles and it was pretty clear that I did not drink enough water. Jody joined me for the final half of mile and basically dragged me to the "finish" line.

Pace for the first 20-miler. Notice the sudden drop-off in tempo near the end.

April 29

I had yet to run one good 20-mile run. A couple weeks after the disastrous fish fry incident run, I sought to right several wrongs. First, I prepared the night before like I should. No fish fry. We kept the meal as simple as possible with some carbs and protein. I believe we had some pasta, fish or chicken, a light side of vegetables, and some bread.

My second goal was to break up the 20-mile run into two manageable circles. The first half was a loop of about 12.5 miles and the second, smaller loop was about 8 miles. Halfway through, I intended to stop at the house for a very short break to use the restroom and fill up my water.

Route for second 20-miler. First loop indicated by black arrows; and the second loop indicated by green arrows.

The third goal was to run slower. Much slower. I wanted to run the entire route, so I tried to flush it from my head that I needed to keep up a certain, unrealistic pace. I had it in my mind to run the first half or more at no faster than a 12:00 min/mile pace. After those miles, if I felt good, I could pick up the pace a little but only if I felt okay. At no point, I told myself, should I come anywhere close to running at a 10:30 min/mile or faster pace.

Finally, I opted not to run with any Gatorade. From what I've read about long runs and nourishment during them, electrolytes are very important, so water is not enough. But Gatorade also has a lot of sugar that disagrees with my stomach on long runs. So I took a chance by leaving the Gatorade in the refrigerator. Instead, I took my Camel Pack that holds 50 oz. of water and loaded a small snack bag with some pretzels. These would give me a few additional carbs (besides the GUs that I had every 5-6 miles) and some salt to help retain water.

What a difference these changes made!

The two loops made the run mentally easier to manage. In the past, I have often become frustrated at the thought of how much further I have to go on these long runs and this can be as equally zapping of energy as lack of hydration. Also, the break in between the two loops gave me an opportunity to fill up on water so I did not have to worry about rationing water for the rest of the run. The loops also allowed Jody to run with me as I approached the house at the end of both loops (I'll explain how she knew where I was in another post). It is always awesome to see her when the miles start to accumulate and I need a bit of encouragement.

Here's the other kicker: I ran the second loop at a faster pace than the first loop simply because I felt like I could. It's not like I was pushing the pace so hard that my body was screaming at me to stop. Nope. I just ran in my comfort zone which was at about a 10:45 min/mile pace. This is even more surprising because of a nasty hill at the 17.7 mark that did not halt my momentum. 

Finally, as I approached the 20-mile mark, I still felt like I had gas in the tank. My legs and hips ached but were not screaming for me to stop. I easily ignored their grumblings.

As I made the final turn for home and saw Jody at about the 19.7 mark, I gave her a big smile and thumbs up. She started to run with me but after the watch chimed my twentieth mile, I shifted gears one last time and nearly sprinted to the 20.2 mark. I finally believed that I could have run 6 more miles. 

Pace for the second 20-mile run. The spike at about mile 13 is when I stopped at the house. Note the sudden burst of speed at the very end.

Talk about a mental hurdle that I needed to overcome. It took 15 weeks, but I was excited that I could run a sub-5:00 hour race in Green Bay.

Races

As my training had its ebbs and flows, there were three races prior to Green Bay: Steven Cullen 8K in January, the Lucky Leprechaun 7K in March, and the Door County Half-Marathon in May. I had run all three races the year before so I could use them as some type of barometer to determine if I had made any progress. However, because I felt that my training had been more miss than hit, I did not have high expectations for any of these races.

Steven Cullen 8K

This race was in Wauwatosa in early February. Unlike last year when it was -10 degrees at the start, this year it was a balmy 40 degrees. Despite my goal to run an "easy" race, soon after I started, I pushed myself.

Overall, my time was about a minute slower than last year's run:

2016: 0:43:14 (overall time) / 8:38 (pace min/mi)

2017: 0:44:01 (overall time) / 8:48 (pace min/mi)

Not bad considering I had been sick the week before. While not 100%, I was still able to gut it out and finish strong.

Lucky Leprechaun 7K

Jody and I have run this race the past two years. It is a great race. In particular, we like the course as you are always around people and make enough turns where you never get board of running in a straight line.

Once again, my confidence was not too high for this race. I would have been happy with any time around a 9:00 min/mi pace, but soon after we started, I felt good enough early to crank up the pace and beat last year's time.

2016: 0:36:15 (overall time) / 8:20 (pace min/mi)

2017: 0:36:08 (overall time) / 8:19 (pace min/mi)

Door County Half-Marathon

This was the third consecutive year we have ventured to Door County to run the half-marathon and its 5K. It is just a great race. The venue is perfect and it is a nice excuse to get out of Milwaukee for the weekend. The timing is also ideal as it is about three weeks before the Green Bay Marathon.

This year, I was torn how to run the course. Do I push myself and aim for a new PR? Or do I hold back, enjoy the race, and save my energy for Green Bay?

Even after the gun went off, I still had not made up my mind. I started fairly slow, but wanted to keep the 9:00 min/mi pace group within site so I could still achieve a sub-2:00 hour race if I felt good enough.

For the first 10 miles, I stuck close to the 9:00 min/mi pace group. At about the halfway point, I pulled ahead of the group but could hear them on my heals. Then at about the 10-mile mark, something crazy happened. I stepped on the gas. For the last three miles, I ran at about an 8:30 min/mi pace. With about two-tenths of a mile to go, I found another gear and finished with a mad sprint, passing about six people in the process.

Last four miles of Door County Half-Marathon  measuring my pace (blue line). Note the surge, or mad sprint, at the very end. The gray area is the elevation.

2016: 1:57:24 (overall time) / 8:58 (pace min/mi)


2017: 1:56:31 (overall time) / 8:52 (pace min/mi)

Overall

Despite my concerns that my training for Green Bay was not going well, from the race results, it was going well enough. And after the Door County race, I had reason to be optimistic that I could reach my goal of running a sub-5-hour marathon.

 

Training Challenges

As I trained for Green Bay, I experienced more challenges this year than I did for last year's race and the Chicago Marathon -- combined.

Sickness
At the end of January, a few weeks into my training, I was laid up for a week due to a nasty head cold. After a 10 mile run on Sunday, January 29, I spent the rest of the week fighting the cold that drained all my energy and required me to use about five boxes of Kleenex. I did not run again until Tuesday, February 7.

Injuries
On February 16, I ran a faster tempo run (a fast-paced, 3-5 run that is at about 90% capacity) after a long day at the office. Though the run felt good, soon after I was done, my right hamstring felt less than wonderful. I started to apply ice that night. I did not run the following day. On Saturday, I ran 7 miles and the hamstring loosened up after the first mile. I thought I was out of the woods with the injury until about a week later when, I notice it bothering me on another 7 mile run.

The next day, Sunday, I ran 9 miles. As a consequence of the hamstring injury, my body placed more stress on my left leg. This equated to the development of my very first shin splint. For the rest of Sunday, it felt as if someone had kicked me in the lower left leg. The following day, I traveled to Florida to see family. Walking around the airports hurt like no other. Despite my intentions to do so, there was no running in Florida, just rest and ice. Fortunately, this seemed to do the trick as I was able to run 8 miles on Saturday, February 4 and 14 miles the following day without any discomfort. The shin split never returned.

Weather
This year it was harder to roll out of bed in the morning when it was dark, cold, and windy. Gotta love Wisconsin winters. Compared to last year, there were a few more days this year where roads and sidewalks were covered in snow and ice, so I had skipped running on these days ... and slept.

Training Program
My original training was too ambitious. The original plan was to run 5 days a week. After my long runs on Sunday, the schedule called for me to run 3-5 miles on Monday and then 7-10 miles on Tuesday. Mentally, I could not do it. I needed a day (or two) to recover from my long run on Sunday. Also, I prefer to leave for the office (to avoid traffic) by 6:45, so this made running 7-10 miles on Tuesday difficult without waking up at 4 AM (and I struggle to run after work).

By the end of March, I adjusted my plan so Monday was a rest day, Tuesday was the shorter run (3-5 miles), Wednesday was a bit longer (5-7 miles), and Thursday was a different type of workout (i.e., tempo run, sprints, hills, etc.). Friday was a rest day and the weekend consisted of two runs: a shorter run on Saturday and a long run on Sunday. This planned worked pretty well, though Thursdays became more of rest days too given a pattern of crappy weather, personal travel, and lack of ambition.

Moral of the Blog Post
I realized that if I took a week off, or even a couple days, nothing significant happened. There was no a drastic regression in my strength. I was still able to run my long runs on Sunday and, as the times in the few races I ran prior to the marathon indicated, my speed did not suffer. In fact, I would venture to guess that being overly cautious about the injuries helped minimize my downtime.

Five Months, 470 Miles, and one Marathon Later...

I cannot believe it has been over five months since I posted to this blog. I started a handful of entries but either got distracted by shinny things or did not deem them worthy enough for public consumption.

Yesterday, I completed the Green Bay Marathon!

Lambeau Field in the rain ... a few minutes before the start of the race.

I do not want to give away all the details, but I ran one hell of a race. My goal was a sub-5:00 hour race. I ran the marathon in 4:49:33! This was nearly thirteen and a half minutes faster than my previous best.

How did happen? My training was a bit different, I ran a smarter race, and I also had a bit more mental fortitude to fight through the final 5 miles.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I will recap some of the experiences that led up to the marathon as well as the marathon itself.