PACIFIC SPORTS
INFORMATION REGISTER RESULTS MAPS MERCHANDISE PHOTOS SPONSORS TRAVEL
|
Catalina Marathon |
|
|
Bill McDermott's "Catalina Marathon"
Bill was born and raised in Des Moines, Iowa. His athletic background as a child was in gymnastics, swimming, and diving, plus all of the typical team sports. He began competitive running in 1966 and ran cross country and track in both high school and college. He graduated from Iowa State University in 1974 with a degree in Aerospace Engineering and moved to Downey, Ca to work for Rockwell. He began a long career working on the Space Shuttle program and stayed with it when the work was taken over in 1998 by Boeing in Huntington Beach where he continues to work. He lives in La Habra Hts with his wife Wanda and they have raised two children , Amanda and Brian. Bill has balanced his work and family life with a running and triathlon career that has lasted 40 years. His home in the hills provides close access to excellent running trails and good friends to share the long runs with. He has run well over 1000 races, including approximately 150 marathons and ultras, and 12 Ironman triathlons. He has also run all 29 Catalina Marathons, finishing first overall in 13 of them. He started out as a road racer but he gradually evolved into a trail runner and now runs exclusively on dirt. The years and miles have accumulated a toll of wear on his knees, and while he has essentially retired from racing, he maintains a high level of training by shifting the balance more into bicycling and swimming, and only running three days a week. While for years he was highly motivated by the competitive aspects of the sport which dictated his approach to training and racing, now his mantra is "Run for Fun ". 11-13-06 Welcome to everyone who is thinking about running the 30th Catalina Marathon on March 17, 2007. Those runners who have run the race before already know what it is all about. First timers are probably very curious and even apprehensive about it, since it will be different than any other race they have done. I have read several claims about the Catalina Marathon. “It is the most unique of all marathons.” That is very true. “It is the most scenic of all marathons.” I agree with that. “It is the toughest of all marathons.” Wait a minute. What is so tough about it? It can’t be the weather. Being held in March, it never seems to be too hot or too cold. It is true that we have had to run in extreme mud on two different years. But two muddy years out of 29 does not seem too bad. It really cannot be the trail conditions because the trails are actually dirt roads and no one has ever complained about fighting through sticker bushes, jumping off ledges, or wading across icy rivers. I admit that during the first year, we were actually afraid of getting attacked by wild boars or mad buffalo, but that concern turned out to be unfounded. I don’t know what else could make the race tough. Could it be the hills? It can’t be, because hills are where the fun is! The one misconception that runners often have before they join the Catalina Marathon or any trail race is that hills are something to dread because they make the race extra tough. I feel kind of glad that Catalina Marathon is near the same time as the L.A Marathon because if I did not run Catalina, I would probably feel obligated to run L.A. At this stage in my career L.A. Marathon would be a race to dread. My knees and other parts of my body can no longer handle 26 miles of steady pounding on level pavement. It may be a surprise to many that their bodies just might feel significantly better running on hilly trails, mainly because of the alternating stresses that a trail course puts on the joints and muscles, uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill, etc. For me certainly, the hilly course is not tough, because it provides the breaks that my body likes. But the real reason why the hilly course is not tough is because of the psychological aspects that all runners should be able to take advantage of. Any ultra runner can tell you that you don’t need to focus on the finish line that is so far away. Instead you can focus only on getting to the top of the next hill which allows you to break up what could be considered a monumental task into small manageable pieces. That makes running a marathon much easier mentally. So as long you have the right attitude, the Catalina Marathon is not that tough. It is all right to tell your friends that you just completed the toughest marathon of all. Just don’t fool yourself. Hills don’t make the race tough. After all, hills are where the fun is. 11-27-06 What was the Catalina Marathon like 30 years ago? We are approaching the 30th Catalina Marathon. It is easy for us to think of an event as just another in a long series of similar events, forgetting that small changes from year to year will eventually accumulate into a significant overall change. Thirty years is a very long time. Even those of us who have been running that long forget how much running and racing has changed over that long of a period. Allow me to first address the larger question: Running 30 years ago, Part 1: What was the running and racing scene like back then? When I think about my own running experience, the seventies seem like ancient history to me now. I moved to Southern California from Iowa in 1974. At that time, the long distance running scene can be thought of as the time before they invented the 5k/10k. There were a lot of longer races, and there were 5 mile and 10 mile runs instead of 5k and 10k, but more importantly, the number of runners was significantly less. There were plenty of races but generally never more than one to choose from on any given weekend. You would just show up, pay $2.00 and race. No need to mail in applications except for marathons. You would have to get your hands on a printed schedule of races because there was no internet and no magazine like Competitor to consult. Races would draw about 100 runners or so and if you raced a lot, you got to know everyone because it was always the same field of runners at every race. You could really look forward to talking to these familar runners before, during, and after the races. If you wanted to, you could apply for a permanent alpha-numeric running number that was printed on cloth so you could actually sew it on to your racing singlet. That was very convenient and fun to have you own number to wear at every race. I believe mine was MCD. Everything was simple at races, no sponsors, no promotional food samples, no banners, just chalk marks on the road. When you crossed the finish line, someone would hand you a wooden tongue depressor with your finish number on it. Then you would walk over to the scorer’s table, hand him the stick, and then look for some jugs of water provided by the race director. Aid stations were fairly sparse by today’s standards, and there was only one electrolyte drink in existence, Gookinaid, also known as ERG. ERG became a generic name for an aid station drink, and for years, even when other drinks became available, runners would continue to call out ERG to the aid station volunteers because that name was understood to mean any drink other than water. There also were very few choices in buying running shoes. There were no running stores, and you would need to go to either Big 5 or Oshmann’s to find shoes. Nike, Adidas, Puma, and Tiger would each have one or two legitimate models of shoes for long distance runners and they probably cost about $25. Of course there was no Cool Max, and unfortunately, we wore a lot of cotton (and used a lot of Vaseline). Because of the familiar crowd showing up at the races, you would always find that there was one person that seemed to race at your pace and if you were competitive-minded, that person would become your friendly rival, at least temporarily. If your long term goal was to improve as a runner, after six months or a year, you hopefully could declare that person beaten and you could find yourself moving up to another rival who was faster. It was kind of like the ladder used in tennis clubs, although it was unspoken and not posted on the wall. Concerning my own approach to racing at the time, I think that the concept of a rival was very important and I loved having a rival to race against. It caused me to develop the competitive attitude that true racing should be runner vs. runner, and not runner vs. the clock. That attitude is not as prevalent today among the middle of the pack runners. Age group categories did not exist in most races in those early years, and I was usually not fast enough to contend for the overall race win. But I found I could still have my own race within a race. A race against a rival almost always came out very close at the finish, and the idea was reinforced in me over and over that even a few seconds were very valuable. I started to really take tactics and strategy serious and started to develop what I call my bag of tricks. If I was not quite fast enough to beat my rival, I started figuring out other ways to win, by the use of tactics. Running became such a fun game for me during the late seventies. However, with the introduction of the 5k/10k races for the masses, which coincided with the running boom explosion, the concept of the rival was diminished. I found myself going to races of 1000 people and not recognizing a single person. I first found out about trail ultras around 1978, which was coincidently the same year as the inaugural Catalina Marathon. To my pleasant surprise, I found a small close knit group of runners that reminded me of the early days of road racing. I am very happy that the trail running community has retained that small “fringe element” feel to it which really appeals to me and I assume to most other trail runners. Catalina Marathon started out as one of those trail runs, and although it seems kind of mainstream today, it still has maintained that small friendly atmosphere from the early years. That is largely evident in the fact that the same familiar faces show up every year and the Catalina Marathon family is made up of many people who have run more than half of the 29 marathons in the history of the event. I am sure there are plenty of personal rivalries in the Catalina Marathon. The people who claim that the Catalina Marathon is special and unique might have their own reasons for saying that or maybe they don’t quite understand what it is that makes it different. But for me, I feel like I have a bond with this group of runners that is indeed different than any other marathon. It is a familiarity and a recognition of the faces of so many people who have run over those hills so many times in the past, so that the race becomes a family reunion every year as well as a chance to renew friendly rivalries. 12-8-06 Running 30 years ago, Part 2: What was the Catalina Marathon like in the beginning? The first race on Catalina was a 10k held in 1977, the year before the first inaugural marathon. I had never been to the island and was very curious about it, so my wife Wanda and I took the ferry over to spend the weekend in Avalon and run the 10k. I don’t have a finisher list for that first race but I remember it to be a pretty small field. I enjoyed it so much that I planned to return the next year. In 1978, the marathon was added and it was an easy choice for me to enter that race instead of the 10k. Hans Albrecht was the original race director and it was his vision that resulted in the race that we have been running for 29 years. The first race was not widely publicized which is the reason for the fact that there were only 39 runners. I would not even have known about it if I had not run the Hidden Valley Marathon a few weeks earlier where someone was walking around after the race passing out applications for the first Catalina Marathon. The race grew in the next few years because of word of mouth. The second race had 153 runners. My wife did not accompany me for the first marathon and in fact did not come over on marathon weekend for 15 more years. The 29 years of the marathon can be divided into two distinct eras. For the first 16 years, almost all of the runners camped out at the race start and there was no morning boat to allow runners to spend the night before the race in Avalon. We all took the same boat out of San Pedro on Saturday morning, which took us to the Isthmus. We camped out on Saturday night, ran the race on Sunday, took showers at the old bath house near the finish line, and took the boat back to San Pedro on Sunday afternoon. As a general rule, there was not much reason for wives or family to come over because they would have to stay in Avalon by themselves. There were two significant changes marking the second era (year 17 to the present). The first was the introduction of the race day boat which caused almost everyone to start staying in hotels in Avalon. Second was the change of race day to Saturday, which allowed the runners and families to relax and enjoy themselves the night after the race before returning home the next day. The focus of the Catalina Marathon has always been about the weekend as a total package. The race is just one part of it. In the early years, Avalon was a very small part of the marathon experience and camping was the big part. For the first few years, we camped at Cherry Cove Boy Scout Camp. We had to walk about 1 ½ miles from the boat dock to get there so most people carried backpacks to hold their camping gear. It was about a 3 hour boat ride on the big old boats that were slow and also stopped at Avalon first before taking us to Two Harbors. When we finally got there, we disembarked single file up the dock and the long line of people moved like a line of ants through the door of the small grocery store, down the aisle and methodically swept up every package of cookies, chips, and pretzels and most of the beer and drinks from the shelves, then exited the store and proceeded down the road along the coast to Cherry Cove. Everyone spread out under the trees there and staked out their piece of ground to lay out their sleeping bags or put up their tents. The majority of the runners lounged around all afternoon eating their snacks and many of them had a few beers also. It always seemed surprising to me that such a small minority of the runners cared to put on their running clothes and go for a run on Saturday afternoon. I always looked forward to getting in about 5 miles of easy running along the road toward the west road and that became a tradition for me. The Boy Scout camp was kind of rundown, and there was a small permanent staff there, including cooks who operated the small dining hall. We would all line up around 6:00 pm and slowly file in and load up plates with spaghetti, salad, and bread. Since most runners love to carbo-load and eat enough for two normal appetites, the smart runners would never put themselves in the back half of the line. More than once I remember the kitchen running out of spaghetti and garlic bread. After a long delay, the cooks would bring out something like macaroni and cheese and maybe some Wonder bread. After dinner, Bob Murcott, the resident LA County Sherriff and marathoner would set up his slide projector and show pictures of the last year’s race as well as scenic shots of the island, including the wild flowers, and animals. He would also give some advice and instructions for the first timers. By then, it was starting to get dark and everyone would return to their campsites or hang out in small groups and share stories about their previous experiences in the race including some highly exaggerated encounters with wild animals and the other perils that supposedly face all runners who dare to accept the challenge of the Catalina Marathon. Over the years, nearly everyone could tell a story about wild pigs. Pigs were animals that we never actually saw, but they would come into the campground at night looking for food. Since every bag of snacks to be found on the West End was somewhere in that campground, the pigs probably came in from all over the island. Many runners would fall asleep with a bag of cookies next to their sleeping bag and wake up later to the sound or feel of a rooting pig helping himself to the snack. The 39 of us who were there the first year found out about the wild pigs the hard way, but we had many other concerns and fears also. We were all very naïve. None of us had any experience with the island. But that did not stop many of the group from describing horror stories or offer advice and warnings. I guess we were all trying to scare and intimidate each other about these perceived dangers. The topics included the wild buffalo, the vicious goats, the killer pigs, the vertical climbs, the heat, the cold, the lack of trail, the risk of getting permanently lost, etc. One thing was certain in our minds before the race started. Avalon seemed to be a thousand miles away. We started the race the first year like it was an ultra, going out very slowly, fearing we might be out there all day long. My own race night behavior has always been marked with difficulty sleeping. My memories of the first 16 years are of lying there in my sleeping bag, repeatedly shining the flashlight on my watch and noting that time had slowed to a near stop. I would also tend to get up several times during the night to go to the restroom. It made for an excruciatingly long night but it still became part of the tradition, and I miss that experience. By contrast, I was always one of the last persons to get up in the morning. It was cold outside, I was warm in the bag, and I saw no reason to get up and just stand around. What always amazed me was to hear people start standing in line at the showers at around 4:30 am. I realize everyone is likely to develop their own pre-race rituals, but taking a shower in the predawn cold was the last thing on my list of things I wanted to do. We camped and started the race in Cherry Cove for the first five years. Then in 1983, we moved to the Isthmus. There we ate our spaghetti dinner on the picnic tables at the beach and camped all around the area. The start line was moved closer to the Isthmus but it remained on the West End Road. That change cut off a mile of nearly flat running at the beginning of the race and to compensate, Hans added the trail section which is the detour from the Main Road, between miles 4 and 7. The course change added significant hills which in turn resulted in somewhat slower finishing times. That course was run until 1990 when the start was moved to the back side of the Isthmus. There have been some other course variations over the years, but the present day course is identical to that course which was first run in 1990. One thing has never changed at the Catalina Marathon. That is when you pack everything up and throw your gear on the truck. I think there is always trepidation when you heave the bag up there. That single act seems to be the final commitment. There is no turning back now. However, seeing the truck piled high with all of our bags is a reminder that we are all in it together and the bond between Catalina Marathoners has always been very strong. The Catalina Marathon Finishers Association was founded in the early years and the logo was printed on a lot of shirts, shorts, and hats. There have been several versions of newsletters over the years providing communication to the members. John Duhig was an organizer for the Association in the first few years and he started hosting an annual potluck party combined with a training run and lots of beer. The parties were scheduled about two months before the marathon and were well attended. However, that tradition was short lived and unfortunately, there were only about three or four of the parties. Like most runners, Catalina finishers enjoy celebrating and sharing a few beers. For a number of years, the race always had a beer sponsor. Avalon was considerably more rustic back then and everyone would hang around the finish line where there was beer available. One year, every runner was handed a six pack of the sponsored beer in bottles as he crossed the finish line, much like he might get a medal today. I believe that was the last year we drank beer in the streets. Ever since, Avalon has been very strict about enforcing laws about that. There are a lot of traditions and other means of bonding that are part of the Catalina Marathon legacy. For example, John Duhig and others initiated a system for tracking the consecutive or accumulative finishes of each runner. It seems most runners intend to keep running the race every year for as long as possible and they proudly wear the pins in long chains to signify their longevity. Jack Caress, the current race director is interested in preserving the traditions and unique aspects associated with the Catalina Marathon. He maintains the web page and is open to suggestions on enhancing the ongoing experience. Also, I think there are a lot of other finishers who have interesting stories to tell, which in turn could help inform the newer runners as to the important history of the event. So, feel free to write your own comments and stories and send them along to Jack. I also welcome any questions to me, which I will answer and post as well. Jack Caress: Jack@PacificSportsLLC.com Bill McDermott: mcdermwa@adelphia.net
January 4, 2007 Questions for Bill McDermott: How did you get the nickname "Buffalo Bill'? Obviously my nickname has something to do with Catalina and the buffalo there that are an important part of the Catalina experience. I acquired the nickname back in the summer of 1980. I had already run the Catalina Marathon three times by then. The way I recollect it, I was preparing to do the Levi’s Ride and Tie with Cowman in the mountains near Big Bear lake. That race was a 37 mile team event where each team consists of two runners and one horse. Cowman invited me to team with him. He brought the horse and all I had to do was ride the horse during short portions of the race (easier said then done, I found out), but mostly just run. It only made sense that if I was going to do an outrageous event like the Ride and Tie and have an outrageous teammate like Cowman, then I needed a nickname. Sitting around the campfire at Big Bear the week before the race, Cowman came up with several suggestions, such as the Catalina Kid, but the name Buffalo Bill seemed to make sense at the time. For those who do not know Cowman, he is the extremely eccentric runner who first became known for being the second person to run on foot the Western States 100 miler back in 1976 when it was The Tevis Cup, a 100 mile race for horses and riders, not runners. He is even better known for being a very large man (a Grizzly Adams type) who commonly wore buffalo horns on his head. He had a helmet covered with buffalo fur with horns attached, and at the same time, had a full beard that matched the color of the buffalo fur. The resulting appearance was that his whole head looked like that of a buffalo. He was actually an excellent runner and once ran the Boston Marathon under 3:00. What made that remarkable was that he weighed in at around 220 pounds and wore the buffalo head for the whole race. He has also finished the Catalina Marathon, and several Ironman triathlons. He currently lives in Hawaii and has been seen riding in the bike portion of the Ironman wearing the buffalo head instead of a legal helmet.
What is it that draws you to trail running more than on the roads? I think I was born to be a trail runner. I say that because when I was a young athlete growing up in Iowa, I heard about the Pikes Peak Marathon and immediately made that my number one goal. That is somewhat odd, because I had never really been out of the Midwest and had never even been in mountains before. I did almost all of my training on either pavement or the gravel roads back in Iowa and trails were pretty limited. However, my favorite race in Iowa was a run around Lake Aquabi where there was no official course. The rule was to run any route you choose to get around the lake and I had a ball trying to find shortcuts through cornfields and through the woods where there were no existing trails. That was probably a clue that I had a natural inclination to go off road. When I moved to California in 1974, I did a lot of road racing but I soon found trails to train on in the nearby Whittier Hills. I also satisfied my goal by traveling to Colorado to run Pikes Peak Marathon three years in a row starting with the 1975 race. I was living in Downey in those days and one thing I noticed was that when I trained in the streets, my runs never exceeded one hour. But when I started running in the hills on trails, I found that I was starting to stretch out to three hour runs and following a more go as you place type of pacing. There were three things that were drawing me to the hills for running. First, was the natural beauty of the environment that just makes it fun to be out there. Second, is the variety of the running. The reason why I never ran more than an hour in the street was because I would get bored. The variety that I mentioned includes the changing slopes and surface and always searching for what lies around the next bend. There is always so much to look at, including trees, rocks, plants, and animals nearby, and far off vistas from the hill tops. Third, is that I love to run up hills. Each hill becomes a separate challenge and in a single run, I can get a number of rewards, one for each hill crested. As years have gone by, I have realized another draw of trail running. My knees feel much better on the trails and now I am almost at the point of being unwilling to run at all on hard pavement. As far as trail racing is concerned, the appeal to me is that the trail courses open the door to a greatly expanded use of tactics and strategy, as well as downhill skills. These aspects have always made racing much more fun to me. Do you use a trail shoe or regular road shoe for running on trails? Runners spend a lot of time thinking about their shoes, since that is the only required equipment for our sport. My opinions are based on my own observations while running rather than a real study of shoe design and construction. I do all of my running in either road training or road racing shoes. I believe almost all of the development effort by the shoe manufacturers has been focused on road shoes and certainly there are a lot more road shoes than trail shoes to choose from when you go to the store. I look for a shoe in the stability category that has the right balance of characteristics to suit me. I believe trail shoes incorporate compromises in the characteristics that I like. There seem to be two objectives in the design of a trail shoe. First is additional ruggedness. I don’t care much about that since I am not a rock kicker. I rarely stub my toes or cut the tops of my shoes and my feet are not so tender that it hurts to step on sharp rocks. The second objective of trail shoe design is additional stability. Trail running introduces lateral forces that are not present in road running. The lateral forces are caused by the rolling motion of stepping on uneven ground, running on a side slope, or making sharp turns, such as switchbacks. I like a lot of cushion in my shoes, but I have found that high cushioned shoes feel sloppy on the trails as if my feet might actually come out of the shoes while making sharp turns. The required stability can be achieved by removing some cushion and placing the feet closer to the ground. That is the required compromise that I am willing to make only to the extent that is necessary and most trail shoes are too extreme in that increased stability for me because they sacrifice too much cushion. My approach is to start with a comfortable stability shoe and if it presents any specific problems on the trail, then address that issue when buying the next pair of shoes. I try to maintain, if at all possible, the best features that I can find in the stability road shoe. But everyone has their own unique running style. Also there are many different types of trail conditions. I run mostly on smooth dirt trails that are not very rocky. It takes experimentation by each individual runner to find the best shoe. It is not a straight forward process to find it because the best shoe for one person could be the worst shoe for someone else. From a Blog in 1987 CATALINA MARATHON Awesome! Breathtaking! Unbelievable! None of the old one word clichés even begin to describe this marathon. I'll attempt to provide you with a little bit of insight into this very unusual marathon. In spite of its uniqueness, very few people have even heard of this event. The reason is found in a bona fide need to keep this race small, normally limited to 400. The race organizer has to deal with transporting runners about 25 miles out into the Pacific Ocean and the course winds through a natural conservancy created by the founder of the Wrigley Chewing Gum Co. The purpose of the conservancy is to preserve the bulk of the Island in its original state and public access to most areas is via permit only. I've never attended a race with so little talk of anticipated finishing times and places. Everyone talks only of finishing and surviving. I also found a very special feeling of closeness in the atmosphere. The weekend begins with a check-in for a chartered boat at 8:30 A.M. on Saturday. All around you people are shaking hands, hugging each other, and renewing friendships. Most are proudly wearing t-shirts, hats, pins, Etc. awarded to finishers in previous years. I'm sure there is no other race with as high a percentage of repeat performers. I met only two others that had not run this event at least once before. We then took a leisurely boat ride to the resort community of Avalon, where a few people who were staying in motels got off and several more who had spent Friday night in Avalon got on. After another 1 1/2 hours of riding along the island coastline we arrived at our campsite. On the way Jamie Miller, a second time runner, warned me about the exceptionally heavy dew on the island and offered to share his tent with me. We spent the afternoon setting up camp and talking about the course. I must have seen at least 30 Western States 100 T-shirts. There were very few runners that were not Californians and most who weren't had run this before. We had one individual fly back from his London job assignment to run his 9th Catalina and 2 doctors left a convention early to catch a helicopter to the island for the 7 A.M. start. One of the other first timers was Harry Cordellos, a blind man. Harry was there to run his 99th marathon (his first was in 1968) and plans on this year's Boston for number 100. This inspirational man is also a world-class water skier. In this race maybe being blind was an advantage. After seeing those mountains, no one in their right mind would run this race! In the evening the race committee provided a nice pasta dinner, including fabulous vegetarian lasagna. Later that evening a ranger showed slides and provided a brief history of the island. Between the usual pre-race excitement and anticipation and the barking of the California sea lions, I didn't get much sleep. Nonetheless, I felt great at the starting line, with approximately 500 other runners. The course started out rather easily, about 3/4 of a mile on a gravel road at the edge of a 150 foot cliff overlooking the sea. Then we came to the first hill. Not bad, about as steep as the North Street hill approaching Colby College and it was only about 2 and a 1/2 miles long! At the top we could see beautiful landscape and ocean on both sides. The course then descended from an elevation of about 800 feet back to sea level with a few ups and downs along the way. Next came a climb, interrupted by a couple of 1/2 mile or so downhills, to the halfway point at the beginning of a canyon. From this point on, the aid stations had orange slices, chocolate chip cookies, bananas, and coke along with the usual water and electrolyte replacement. This was the beginning of the section known as "Middle Ranch". It is also considered the "flat part of the course"; the change in elevation is only 400 feet over the five miles. I must admit it did seem flat. At mile 18 came "Heartbreak Hill". No problem, it's only about twice as steep as Casco Bay's "Cook's Concrete" hill and only lasts for 1 and 1/2 miles; and the temperature couldn't have been much above 80 degrees! This is where this Maine runner decided it was not necessary to run every step of the course, that perhaps a leisurely walk would be okay. I did notice that those brave souls that tried to run up "Pump House" hill really weren't going much faster than those of us that had chosen to walk. Once on top, now 1500 feet above sea level, we were rewarded with a couple of miles of paved road before hitting the trails again, and got to run through four or five ups and downs that were much worse than some of those in what I used to call a hilly Maine road race. After mile 23 it's all downhill, and I mean down - about a 1400 foot elevation drop in two miles. The last 1.5 miles is a nice gentle downgrade on the streets of Avalon. As I rounded the last corner and looked down a half mile straight away at the finish line, lined with several hundred cheering people, I got that magical feeling that a person gets as they approach the finish line in their first marathon. It's such a feeling of accomplishment! My time was 3:45 and I finished somewhere near the end of the first 100 of the 483 ultimate finishers, the last arriving after seven hours on the course. But the details didn't matter. I now know what brings so many people back to this unrealistic, torturing course year after year. I am now a lifetime member of a very exclusive running organization, the Catalina Marathon Finishers Association! Winning times -- male 2:58, female 3:29 Questions for Bill McDermott: January 19, 2007 You are known for being a great downhill runner. What tips can you give to the average runner on how to improve in this area? Catalina Marathon is a hilly race, plain and simple. If you do most of your long training runs on a hilly course, especially one that is undulating, then you are going to be a good hill runner and you will easily handle the Catalina course. But if you want to be competitive, then you have to do more specific training exercises to become an excellent hill runner. Obviously there are two types of hills, uphill and downhill, and when you think of it, the two types are totally unrelated. Running uphill fast is a real test of your fitness and the objective is to push close to your anaerobic threshold with the most efficient technique possible but without blowing up. Running downhill fast does not require the same high level of fitness and is actually more of a skill. I have taken both uphill and downhill training serious in my career, hoping that I would be able to beat runners who are very fast in normal flat races but are not really hill specialists. Concerning uphills, I was inspired by Arthur Lydiard, the coach from New Zealand, who back in the late 1970’s, first started publishing advice for hill training. The New Zealand runners have always been great hill runners, long before the Kenyans came on the scene. Lydiard’s coaching techniques are still valid, but these days there is a lot of other good training advice to be found on the web or in magazines and books, with various drills and workouts to develop uphill running ability. On rough trail, and very steep hills, I think downhill running is more important than uphill running. Also, I have seen many very good runners pull away from other runners while going uphill, only to lose their lead quickly once the downhill starts. Again, I consider down hill running as a skill and that implies that some natural ability will be a factor. The primary skills for down hill trail running are agility and eye to foot coordination. If you know you already have such natural skills, for example if you happen to be an excellent soccer player, then fast downhill running will come a lot easier. For others, they just need to work at it. If you think of riding a bicycle down a steep hill, the difference between how fast or how slow you go is a question of whether or not you are applying the brakes. If you want to bicycle faster on a steep and winding hill, you can let gravity cause you to accelerate and go so fast that you might be afraid of crashing. You can do the same thing running down a hill faster and faster until you are at the verge of losing control. A fast downhill runner can run four-minute mile pace. At that speed, your eyes start to water from the wind, so you can hardly see where you are placing your feet, and you will probably feel like Bode Miller in a downhill ski race, on the verge of losing control. You will be fearful of flying off the side of the trail at any moment. That is when you realize you are running as fast as you can. But like in bicycle racing or skiing, you learn to relax and gain confidence by the repetition of practice. You can do some high-speed downhill repeat drills and get use to the feel of it. Those types of drills are pretty stressful on the body and you should do them only when you are well rested. Your joints, especially, take a lot more pounding, on these downhill drills. The objective is to teach yourself, by practice, to smooth out the foot strikes, relax the tension in the body and gradually convert the pounding into gliding. If you listen to the sound of your foot strike, you will improve your technique when the sound gets quieter, and when you are truly gliding, your foot strike will not make any sound at all. That is something to strive for by practice. My experience tells me that just when you think you are a very fast downhill runner, you will get into a race and some guy will come flying by you on a down hill. The point is, don’t ever be satisfied with your downhill speed. You can always get faster, so keep working on it by doing some steep downhill repeats on an occasional basis. Just be careful and do not overdo it, because there is a risk of injury to your knees or other body parts. What type of cross training do you do and recommend? Early in my career, I tried to concentrate on running as many miles as I could, often running three times a day. I was interested in triathlons but I felt that the triathlon training would compromise my running goals. After several years of very high running mileage, I started to develop an overuse injury in my right knee, which was diagnosed as chondromalacia. That was in 1982, about the time that the mountain bike was first invented. I got myself a mountain bike to ride during the periods when I was having problems with the knee. I immediately feel in love with bicycling and decided to incorporate that into my training. Also, I had been running back and forth to work, which was 12 miles each way, and I concluded that was the single biggest cause of my knee injuries. I switched my commuting mode to a road bicycle and I found a balance of running and bicycle training that was acceptable to my body. Of course from that point on, it only made sense for me to race triathlons as well as marathons and ultras. I added the regular swimming workouts, not with the interest of cross training necessarily, but to enable me to be a triathlete. My primary objective as an athlete has always been simply to maintain consistency, to train 365 days a year, race any race that interests me, and never have to deal with down time due to injury. Incorporating the bicycling and swimming into my training was the best thing to happen to me. In the 24 years since, I have managed to avoid overuse injuries and at the same time do some kind of training every day. If I develop any early warning signs of overuse, such as tendonitis somewhere in my legs, I will just stop running for two or three days but continue to swim and bike or maybe just swim. I can catch a potential injury so early that usually a couple of days of rest from running is all it takes to prevent it from really becoming a serious injury. In my mind, the whole purpose of cross training is to allow me to maintain consistency. I don’t do it because it helps my running in any other way. I am not convinced that bicycling directly helps me race faster. But indirectly, the bicycling plays a huge role in my fitness, because it allows me to keep my training in balance and avoid injuries. In fact, even during the peak of my racing career, including the year when I set my PR at the Catalina Marathon, I was spending more time on the bike than I was running. Years ago, I use to do long runs on both Saturday and Sunday, but then I changed to bicycling on Saturday and running on Sunday. I love that routine. It keeps training fun and my body injury-free, and I can satisfy my primary objective of maintaining consistency as an athlete. A lot of runners have had bad luck with recurring injuries and I recommend that they also try to incorporate cross training such as bicycling and swimming as a means of breaking the injury cycle. How has your personal training changed, as you have gotten older? This is a great question, because I have been running for 40 years, and I have adapted to changes in training philosophy, objectives, and most importantly, both gradual and sudden changes in my body. There are two overriding principles that dictate my training and they carry equal weight. The first principle is that I do the type of training that I enjoy doing, because it is a hobby, and I never want to force myself into doing something that I do not find fun. The second principle is that I always stay within the constraints that my body dictates. I can honestly say that in all of these years of training, I have never run injured or sick when I would have been better off resting. I have never lost my love of running but I have gone into racing retirement, so my motivation which used to be driven by competition, is now mostly maintained by my Run for Fun philosophy. The Run for Fun approach certainly leads to the practice of training consistently 52 weeks a year because it is just a part of my life style. But even years ago, I never followed a seasonal approach, and I have always preferred to train consistently year around. The single biggest effect that I have noticed as I got older, especially after the age of 50, is the prolonged recovery time after running. I have not noticed it as much in swimming and bicycling, but after a run, I feel fatigued, stiff, and sore for about two days and in general I can only run every other day. Of course, I have chondromalacia in my right knee and I have limits on the amount of running I can do and still avoid inflammation of the knee. I currently spend three or four times as many hours on my bicycle each week as I do running. I am limited on my total running but I do not feel limited on my bicycling and swimming. Even though I can only run every other day, I have never changed my practice of doing two a day or three a day workouts. It does not matter that my overall capacity for training has reduced drastically over the last few years. Since I do a lot of cross training, it is still easy to combine, swim, bike, run, and weight workouts before and after work and at lunch time, and I continue to average 14 workouts a week. That is much easier than it sounds because I bicycle back and forth to work. When I retire and eliminate the bike commute, I may find it harder to maintain the multiple workout schedule. I think that endurance is easy to maintain for the aging athlete, but strength and speed slowly diminish. I use to do it all, long runs that focus on endurance, as well as the shorter speed sessions. Now that my capacity is reduced, I have to be more selective in the type of training I want to do. As I got older and started to lose speed, I began to prefer doing numerous shorter workouts designed to emphasize quality and speed. A lot of older athletes are doing the opposite. They get locked into doing long and very slow running, either out of habit or maybe because they are losing the flexibility required for running faster. I think that is a mistake if they want to remain competitive in age group racing. Too many runners have a racing speed that is no faster than their long training runs. My goals are very different now. I want to be able to finish the Catalina Marathon every year, but otherwise, I want to maintain conditioning to do fun noncompetitive events. Examples are running across the Grand Canyon, or going to the mountains to run interesting courses that use to be easy training runs in the old days but are now becoming challenges for me to accomplish. What do you think is the fastest possible time an individual could run on Catalina Marathon course that you ran in 2:39:58 that is our current course record? There is no such thing as the fastest possible time, so I will answer the question a little differently. Based on my experience and observation, if a runner is equally prepared to race either a flat road race or the Catalina Marathon, the finishing time for Catalina would be approximately 15 to 20 minutes slower. My own PR’s for road and Catalina marathons are different by 17 minutes 40 seconds. More Questions for Bill McDermott: How do you prepare yourself mentally for 26.2 miles of running? My preparation really focuses on first establishing a goal for the race and then developing a plan for how I intend to run the race and achieve the goal. By the time I step up to the line, I have already visualized the entire race, and can usually predict within a couple of minutes what my finish time will be. I select a goal finish time and then I prepare a pace chart, which is a schedule of checkpoints and split times. I keep records of my previous split times for races like Catalina that I have run before. I usually know my fitness level well enough that I can create a schedule based on previous faster or slower performances and I always make sure that it is a challenging but realistic schedule. For races that I have never run before, I carefully study the map and elevation profile. I memorize all the turns and intersections to minimize any chance of getting lost. I also research previous years’ results, and it is extremely helpful if I can find results with recorded split times. I look for familiar names in the results, runners who I know and how their abilities compare to mine, and then I lay out a plan that I can use during the race based on whatever data is available. Obviously, my preparation is enhanced for those courses that I have raced on before, but I never run a race without some kind of plan and an attempt to visualize it to some extent. During my competitive years, I always set a very hard finishing goal because I wanted it to require maximum effort, but I avoided fooling myself into doing something beyond my capability. The planning and visualization process is what really builds my confidence that I am going to be in control of my effort and will be able to achieve my goal. It also allows me to remain calm because I feel I have eliminated a lot of the uncertainty, risk, and fear associated with a big effort like a marathon. I never feel that I am 100% mentally and physically prepared for a race. But when I come close to that complete mental preparation, and I step up to the start line, I feel like actually running the race is the easy part and is no more than the reward for all of my hard effort. I do not want to get into the generalized training aspects too much, because that kind of advice is easy to come by through the books, magazines, and coaching that all runners are exposed to. I will say that I believe in the specificity of training for a race that is as unique as Catalina. I have a training course that I run regularly that I call the Catalina simulator because it has rolling hills that are very similar in length and steepness to what we encounter in the Catalina Marathon. I do not think it is necessary to run 26 miles to simulate or train for the race, but it is important to do a lot of shorter runs on that kind of terrain. My number one recommendation may sound surprising, but it is simply to put a big emphasis on the weekend as a whole, not just the race. Make the most out of the experience. The race is just a few hours, but the rest of the weekend is loaded with opportunities to enjoy the island, the boat ride, meeting other runners, and making a vacation out of it. I encourage all runners to bring their families. Here are some other recommendations concerning the race. Throughout most of the 29 years of the Catalina Marathon, my goal was to try to win. I dedicated months of effort every year to achieve the goal, and race weekend at Catalina was always one of the biggest events of the year for me. Every year, the race became a significant experience to me because it was always the culmination of so much preparation and anticipation. However, I found it interesting that winning the marathon does not necessarily make it memorable, if the win came about easily. But the few years that I found myself locked into a real battle with someone, and I was able to win after either putting out my maximum effort or by utilizing some creative race tactics, were the real memorable experiences. My most memorable experience was the 1991 race. That was the year that I set my Personal Record at Catalina, but there were some other important aspects of the race that really made it significant to me. In 1991, I was 39 years old and I had already achieved a goal of winning the race 10 times. But I still had a long-time unfulfilled goal of breaking 2:40 for a finish time. I questioned how I could possibly set a new PR on the 14th try, especially being only one month from turning 40 years old. On the other hand, I felt that all of my years of experience could allow me to plan and execute my best possible race and it was now or never. But there were three other things that happened that year that influenced my motivation and my performance. First of all, my wife Wanda, and my two kids Amanda and Brian, had never come over to Catalina for the race before in any of the 13 previous years. The runners always camped near the race start and there was no race day boat. We never spent a night in Avalon and so it was not convenient for family. In 1991, for the first time, a bus brought runners over from Avalon before the race and took spectators back to Avalon during the race. So I brought my family with me to Two Harbors, where we camped in a tent, and then they were able to ride the bus over the course while the race was going on. I was thrilled to have them there for their first time. Second, we had a so-called press truck in front of the lead runners for the first time. Lois Schwartz from Competitor Magazine was riding in the back of the truck. I thought that was great for her to be there pointing the camera back at us, and I could see her clicking off dozens of pictures. But, as typical, I almost never lead until late in a race, and here I was pushing harder than ever before but still not able to get close enough to the leader or the camera. I knew that I needed to stay close and try to get the lead at least by the divide road so that I could get my picture taken as the race leader on the most scenic part of the course. Finally, that race turned into my big duel with Jose Ortiz. He did not realize it, but he became the rabbit that enabled me to break 2:40. He did not set the pace for me but I never would have run 2:39 if it was not for the effort required to chase him down. He went out fast and pushed the early hills. At the half way point (Eagle’s Nest) he had a one minute lead, which meant there were long stretches in Middle Ranch where I could not see him at all. I finally saw him again on Pump House Hill but I could not gain on him on any uphill. However, just when it looked like I was running out of time, I measured the gap to be reduced to 40 seconds as I started the divide road at mile 22. I was determined to gain a little bit on each of the five roller coaster downhills with the objective of catching him before we started the steep downhill to the finish. Indeed, I caught him and the camera truck right at the downhill turnoff, Mile 23 ¼. At that point, I was not thinking about breaking 2:40, but I was very afraid that he would stay close to me on the downhill and outkick me at the finish. That fear spurred me to my fastest downhill ever, and now I can credit him for pushing me across the line in 2:39:58. As I crossed the finish line, I could see the big clock showing two seconds to spare, but at the same time, I could also see my wife and kids cheering. That moment was my most memorable experience in the Catalina Marathon.
From: 1. What do you think is the biggest difference in your approach either in training, mentally, or physically? 2. What is it for you that makes the Catalina Marathon unique? 3. What is your most vivid memory (or memories) of the times you've run the race? Comments from Steve Jones, former World Record Holder in the marathon and Catalina Marathon veteran: 1. Since you have both run marathons on the road and on trails--what do you think is the biggest difference in your approach either in training, mentally, or physically? 2. What is it for you that makes the Catalina Marathon unique? 3. What is your most vivid memory (or memories) of the times you've run the race? 4. I would like answers from both of you, but particularly interested in Steve's on this one--the fastest time for the course is 2:39:58. Bill McDermott who set it has indicated that he thinks there is approximately in his own experience perhaps a 17 minutes difference between this and his top road marathon. 5. Steve, in your peak condition when you were setting world record times, what do you think would be the fastest time you might have run? Measuring the Catalina Marathon I have been asked many times over the years about the course measurement for the Catalina Marathon. Most commonly, I hear comments from exasperated runners shortly after they cross the finish line, wondering how some mile marks seemed impossibly far apart, while others were too close together. My best response to that observation is that one of the long-standing traditions of the Catalina Marathon is that the mile marks are always irregularly spaced. I do not know why that has always been true but I think maybe the person who puts out the marks early on race morning is the same guy who delivers my newspaper. My paper delivery man drives down my street at about 30 miles per hour and throws the paper out the car window somewhere in the vicinity of my house. If he lays out the mile marks on the marathon course in the same manner, he probably figures as long as the marks get dispersed in proper numerical order, the exact location is not all that important. Being able to monitor progress while running a marathon is certainly important, especially when we find ourselves trying to cope with the psychological battles we encounter during the more painful episodes of the middle or latter stages of the race. On the other hand, if you are a trail runner, you know that most trail races have no mile marks on the course, and that we usually rely on the maps and elevation profiles to help us visualize where we are. Often times, we keep track of how many more hills there are to climb rather than how many more miles to the finish. Road courses are measured and marked with permanent marks such as nails driven into the pavement, and these marks can be easily found each year to locate the signs during the race. It is understandable that on the trails, permanent marks are hard to make and hard to locate each year in preparation for race day. I have a tendency to simply ignore the mile marks at Catalina. Instead, I study the elevation profile that can be found on a link to the race web site. From that profile, I know that Little Harbor is at mile 8.2, Eagle’s Nest Lodge is at mile 12.9, and the Pumphouse is at mile 17.7, etc. Since those landmarks are always going to stay put, I never find myself dealing with a dilemma caused by suspicious looking mile mark locations. The actual measurement of the course is a different subject than the placing of mile marks. Keep in mind the difficulty involved with measuring a trail course compared to a road course. First of all, the only accepted manner of measuring a course for certification is by rolling a wheel with a revolution counter on it. That is true for the Olympic Marathon, the LA Marathon, or any other course. GPS is not yet recognized as a legitimate measuring tool. A revolution counter can be mounted on a bicycle, but must be calibrated prior to making the measurement. This method can be very accurate on smooth pavement but on trail, the accuracy is affected significantly by the roughness of the surface. I have measured a lot of courses on different types of terrain, both by pushing a wheel by hand and by riding a bicycle. I have found that reasonable accuracy can be maintained using a bicycle, provided the bicyclist rides very slowly to minimize bouncing. I have taken my bicycle to Catalina and measured many of the roads and trails on the island. I did not use a Jones revolution counter, which would have been the best method, but instead used a Cateye bicycle computer. I laid out and measured the Catalina 100k course for race director, Baz Hawley, and I kept detailed notes. At that time, I also measured the Catalina Marathon course, not in an official capacity for the marathon organization, but to satisfy myself that the course is reasonably accurate. I was indeed able to satisfy myself that the course is a legitimate 26.2 miles. I would like to make one last comment on the use of wrist mounted GPS units that are becoming very common among runners. I own one myself and have attempted to characterize the accuracy compared to other methods of measuring. The resolution of 15 meters is not near accurate enough to measure a race course, but I found the error is somewhat predictable. The GPS unit is exceptionally accurate when traveling in a straight line such as running down a highway. But on trails, every switchback or bend in the trail will cause a shortening of the measurement. Some trails have many more twists and turns than others, but based on my own experience, I have concluded that, on what I consider an average winding trail course, it is appropriate to simply apply a correction factor based on an average error that the GPS unit measures the course to be 6% short. I would be very interested in hearing from runners who wear their GPS units in the Catalina Marathon this year. I would like to see the consistency and trend of those measurements. From John Ganahl, owner of Ganahl Lumber and 19 time veteran of Catalina. 1. Since you have run marathons on the road and on trails--what do you think is the biggest difference in your approach either in training, mentally, or physically? Trail running is a lot more enjoyable for me both because the dirt surface is more forgiving and I love being on trails and seeing the plants and animals and sights and sounds of wild areas. I do a lot more (almost exclusively) running in the hills. This is genuinely fun for me and doesn't have the 'gotta train' feel that I used to have running on pavement. 2. What is it for you that makes the Catalina Marathon unique? It comes at the end of winter when long trail runs in the Santa Ana Mountains are normally wet, cool, and green. I don't want to train for a fall marathon because I don't want to have to do long training runs in august, sept, oct. when it is hot and dry. It is also my motivation to get fitter during the winter months when its easy to let fitness slide a little. It is local and yet it feels like an adventure because of the boat trip over to the island and sometimes camping out, etc. Seeing many friends that I have made over the years that I may only see for two days a year. The same (or nearly the same) hilly dirt trail course with many great views along the way. 3. What is your most vivid memory (or memories) of the times you've run the race? I have many but I will limit my response to two. The heavy rain year of 2003. It literally poured rain during the entire race. We were soaking wet and muddy and I loved every minute of it. When I got to the top of pump house hill and u-turned into the hard rain and hail on the ridge I had to really lean into the strong headwind in order to move forward. Then seeing the group of high school aged kids sticking it out at the 20 mile aid station for hours and encouraging us runners even though they were thoroughly soaked and probably cold was an inspiration. Then I sort of grouped up with several guys along the summit ridges and as we did the best we could to move forward into the heavy rain, hail, and headwind, two women jogged right on by us while chatting merrily and we COULDN'T respond enough to stay with them. Reminded me of a paraphrase of a line from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, "Who were those chicks?!" For shear courage and toughness, the most amazing performance I have ever seen in any race I think occurred the same year. There was a teenage runner--maybe 15 or so--who lost a shoe in a creek crossing near the bottom of middle ranch around the 13-mile mark. He said it got sucked off when he stepped in some soft mud in the middle of a stream and after unsuccessfully trying to find it for a few minutes he decided to run the last 13 miles WEARING ONLY ONE SHOE. Remember this is a trail marathon with dirt and rocks nearly the entire way not mention the unbalanced act of running with one shoe on and one shoe off. A friend of mine who was on a mt bike as a "roll aid" volunteer suggested they tape over his sock to give his foot a little more protection which they did, but with all the mud and water it didn't stick very well. So he was running along with adhesive tape trailing from one foot like a ad banner from an airplane. And that TOUGH kid ran all the way to the finish line 13 miles away. Everyone who runs the Catalina Marathon, or any marathon for that matter, has a certain amount of toughness, but that kid had many times what the rest of us had.
|
