Race Report: Olomouc Women's Grand Prix, July 2-4, 2026

I competed at the Olomouc Women's Grand Prix in Olomouc, Czech Republic last week, running the 800m in 3:22.33, the 1500m in 6:59.84, and the 5000m in 23:03.87.

I also received my international para athlete classification in Olomouc, which was my primary reason for going there. I'll start this exceedingly lengthy report with an explanation of that process.

***

The word classification has two meanings in para athletics - it’s both an action and a status. The action of classification is the evaluation of an athlete by a panel of trained experts, to determine whether the athlete has an eligible impairment, and if so, what the nature of the impairment is, so that the athlete can be grouped with and compete against others with similar impairments. Classification as a status is the category that a para athlete is placed in. For example, an athlete with a T20 classification is intellectually impaired; an athlete with a T47 classification is missing part of their arm.

There is a distinction between a national classification and an international classification. As of the beginning of this summer, I had a national classification (obtained in Boston 2024 and renewed earlier this year at Boston).  This meant that I could compete as a para athlete within the US and could set para athlete national records. An international classification would mean that I was considered a paraathlete globally, could set continental and world records, and could represent the US internationally (if named to a team).

International classification is much more rigorous than national classification. An international classification also overrides any national classification. If you were nationally classified as a para athlete, but the international classifiers don’t think you’re sufficiently impaired, then you are no longer a para athlete either internationally or in your own country.

International classification opportunities are limited to about a dozen worldwide each year, and each country has a limited number of slots available for its athletes at each classification opportunity. When choosing who gets a slot, USATF understandably prioritizes athletes with the potential to medal at the Paralympics or the World Para-Athletic Championships. 

For my classification of women’s T36, currently the only medal events are the 100m and 200m. And I’m not a sprinter. I’m not globally competitive as a para athlete until at least 800m. Thus, even though I have recent distance performances that would have been continental or world records if I was internationally classified, I was not a priority for a classification slot.

However, USATF offered to keep me on a waiting list for international classification this year.  Then, in May, they contacted me to explain that if I went to the Olomouc Women’s Grand Prix in the Czech Republic this summer, they might be able to get me a classification slot. No promises, of course. But if I could get there and be available for the three days of classification, it might happen. Additionally, since USATF wanted to send a full contingent of para-athletes to this meet (which was held to promote women in para athletics), they would cover my entry fee and housing.

You miss 100% of the shots that you don’t take, and I’d never been to Europe. I booked my flights and started packing.

***

I’m not an experienced international traveler.  My previous trips outside of the US had been to Canada or Bermuda, with the last of those more than a decade ago.  So, traveling to a relatively small town in the Czech Republic for a track meet was ripping the band-aid off.  

My itinerary was Dulles to Frankfurt (5 hour layover) to Prague, and then I’d be picked up by a bus provided by the Local Organizing Committee (LOC) for the ~300K/180 mile drive to Olomouc. I left DC on Saturday night, and the trip was mostly smooth, save for a moment of panic at IAD when I learned that you can’t board a flight to Germany unless your passport has been signed. Fortunately, several people near me in the boarding area had pens.

*** 

view from the bus

Some 16 hours later (with about 9 of those in basic economy) I was out in the bright sun of a historic Czech heat wave, boarding a bus for the 3+ hour drive to Olomouc.

Three hours is a long time on a bus, especially when you’ve already been traveling for 16+ hours.  I took a few videos of rural Czech Republic and then tried to nap.

About 90 minutes into the trip, the bus stopped at the Czech equivalent of a Sheetz for an optional bathroom break.  I was well hydrated so this seemed like a good idea. Plus, as I've always said, you haven't truly lived until you’ve shared a gas station bathroom in rural eastern Europe with 8 teenagers from Uzbekistan.

I was last in line for the bathroom when I had a horrific thought. I was one of three Americans on the bus, and the other two were napping. To the best of my knowledge, nobody had counted how many were on the bus. It was entirely plausible that the Uzbek team would return as a group to the bus and the bus would leave while I was finishing up.

I don’t speak Uzbek (or Czech, for that matter) and the Uzbek team didn’t speak English, so there was no way to ask them to ensure the bus waited for me. So, reluctantly, and with the knowledge that I was furthering all sorts of awful stereotypes about Americans, I jumped ahead in line, took care of business as fast as I could, and sped back to the bus.

***

I had arrived on Sunday, as international classification was scheduled for three days - Monday-Wednesday, with the meet starting on Thursday. I was on hold but did not know when or if I would get a slot. My instructions on Monday morning were to “train as usual” so I jogged 6 miles with a few strides. Then, at lunch, we got word that I could be seen by the classifiers at 4:45 pm Monday afternoon.

Para athlete classification in general is stressful. I think that part of this is that people who compete in para athletics are NOT focused on their impairments.  We acknowledge our impairments, maybe joke about them, and move on. The focus is on doing what you can do the best you can, not “educating” the world on what you can’t do and why you can’t do it. It’s very different from non-para running culture, where it sometimes seems like everybody wants to discuss their own personal obstacles and how inspiring they are for overcoming them.

This makes classification emotionally difficult, because you have to shift mentally and discuss your impairments, and explain what you can’t do and why you can’t do it.  It’s hard.  

Then, of course, there’s the fact that classification will determine whether you can compete, and what division you will compete in. International classification bumps this stress up a notch, both because of the considerable time and financial investment in getting to a classification opportunity and because international classification overrides national classification. 

As I noted before, a domestic para athlete career can end if an international classification panel decides that your national classification panel was wrong, and you’re not impaired enough.  Of course, that severe a change is unlikely to happen, just because most countries would not give a slot to an athlete likely to be classified as not eligible. And there are also all sorts of appeal rights if that does happen. But it’s possible.

Both times that I’ve been nationally classified, it’s just been me and the classifiers. But for international classification, the director of the USATF Para program, Sherrice Fox, joined me.  She could not and would not answer questions on my behalf, but she would object to any procedural error during classification.

When I got classified at Boston for the first time, I noted that it felt like a combination of a job interview and a doctor’s appointment. This had the added flavor of a deposition, except that I was the client.

*** 

My classification lasted a bit over 2 hours, as opposed to the hour required for national classification in Boston. It followed a similar path to Boston - an interview, then a medical examination, and then an NFL-combine-esque series of drills (jump as far forward as you can!  Hop on one foot!  Shuffle to the side!) However, each of these segments was longer and more involved than Boston.

The next step was new. I was given 30 minutes to warm up on the track as if I was racing (they would be watching intermittently) and then don my spikes, do some strides, and run a hard 400m (ideally at 800m race pace, if not faster) while they scrutinized my gait and took notes.

I did all that and then waited for a very long 15 minutes while the panel discussed. Then they called me back.

The verdict - I was provisionally a T36 (the same as my national classification), with the classification finalized after they observed me in competition this week (that observation during competition is always the final step in classification). 

They had to discuss my case at length, mostly because the neurological para athlete classifications, though intended to cover athletes with cerebral palsy, Parkinsons, MS-related spasticity, and traumatic brain injuries, are written in a cerebral palsy specific way. They had never seen someone with Parkinsons go for an international track para athlete classification before. (There is at least one other person with PD who is an internationally classified para athlete, but he rows, and the international classification criteria is different for each sport). But after watching me, they thought that T36 was where I belonged.

[Note: for running, the ambulatory classifications for people with neurological impairments are T35, T36, T37, and T38. T38 means minimally impaired, T37 means that you are impaired on one side, T36 means involuntary movements and not full control (my difficulties turning, changing pace, and running downhill, as well as my wobbly inconsistent gait are all consistent with this classification).  As for T35, I don’t fully understand that one except that I am not in it.]

***

The next two days were easy mileage and hanging out with the USA contingent (all of whom were awesome) while waiting for the meet to start. I haven’t really interacted with sprinters or field athletes before, so it was great to learn more about those sports, and also to broaden my knowledge of wheelchair racing (which really is a very cool sport and deserves much more attention than it gets). I also enjoyed shocking them by describing the traditional Capital Area Runners marathon workout of 25x400m on the track.  I didn’t mention that my personal favorite marathon workout is 17 miles with 2x5 miles at marathon effort - I’ll save that for next time.

***

Finally, it was Wednesday, and the meet started, with my first race, the 800m, at 10:37 am.  

This meet ran like clockwork, with events starting at exactly the scheduled time.  There was a call room where athletes had to check in and enter during a scheduled window - 20-25 minutes before the race (so 10:12-10:17 am for my 800).  Anyone who was not in the call room 20 minutes before the race was DQed from the race and the rest of the meet.

There were limitations on what could be brought into the call room - nothing except clothing, shoes, and spikes.  Any type of communications tech (GPS watch, cell phone, etc) was cause for elimination. I also couldn’t bring any nutrition in and had to leave my asthma inhaler and Parkinson's medication outside.

Each athlete had been issued a credential, and we had to provide that when entering the call room as our identification.  A race official collected the credentials, to be returned after the race.

I entered the call room at 10:12 (I really didn’t want to be DQed) and then waited for a long time.  At about 10:32, the athletes in the 800m (myself, a visually impaired T12 from Tunisia, and an intellectually impaired T20 from the Czech Republic) were walked to the start.  

I had no idea what I was doing, so I mirrored the others. Which meant that I grabbed my bag carrying my extra spikes and carried it onto the track.  We were walked to our starting positions, each marked with a large plastic number thing and a small plastic basket just behind.  

The other two placed their bags in the basket, so I did too. Then they started doing strides, so I did as well. When they stopped and walked over to the starting line, I followed. As we lined up, race officials removed the baskets.  And then the video cameras approached.

***

I’ve watched enough Diamond League races to know what happens next.  Each athlete is introduced in turn, while the camera focuses in on their face, and they wave or make a heart shape with their hands or point to something on their singlet.

Me, trying to be bubbly

I’ve always wondered what people are thinking when the video camera gets in their face before the start of a track race.  Speaking for myself, I frantically tried to remember if there were any gestures that were acceptable in the US but insulting in Europe.

After we had been introduced, we took our marks and the gun went off.  I am always dropped at the start of short track races (or any race) but this felt like a pedestrian versus a pair of race horses.  The other two women zoomed away, while I did my best in what was essentially an 800m time trial.  I did a good job with my form the first 400m but then lost my focus and tried a bit too hard in the second 400m, meaning that I slowed up while working harder.

As I crossed the finish, the other two were already walking away - they had each run in the 2:20s, while I had been in the 3:20s.  Welcome to international para athletics.

We were directed into a mix zone tent to wait until the race results were finalized and our credentials returned to us.  I noted the Czech woman being interviewed by local TV in one corner - she had won.  I was not surprised that nobody wanted to speak to me.

***

After about 5 minutes, my credential was returned and I was free to go.  An official confirmed that I had run 3:22. The existing “Americas” (meaning North and South American continents) record for the T36 800m was 3:26.  So, pending ratification, I had set that record, since this was a World Para Athletics sanctioned meet and I had an international classification.

[It’s worth noting here that my American 800m record of 3:18 is faster than my Americas (North and South America continent) record of 3:22. This is because I only needed a national classification and a USATF meet to set the American Record.  Sometimes a national record can be faster than the regional or world record because of the stricter requirements for regional and world records, and this is an example of that.]

I wasn’t sure if my regional record would require drug testing, and so I flagged down Simon - the USA team leader.  Per his instruction, I stayed in the mix zone while he asked if anyone wanted to drug test me.  The response was no (a regional record can be ratified without testing, as long as testers are present) and so I was free to go.  I was honestly bummed that nobody wanted to test me - wasn’t I good enough?  But, on the other hand, it meant I was done for the day and could relax.

***

Thursday was the second day of the meet, and I had two races on tap - the 5000m at 11:10 am (enter call room at 10:45-10:50 am) and the 1500m at 3:55 pm (call room at 3:30-3:35 pm).

Having two races in one day meant that I had to give special thought as to how to schedule my Rytary.  I take the Rytary every 4 hours on an empty stomach, meaning at least 60 minutes after a meal or 30 minutes before.  And I also couldn’t take it while I was in the call room or racing. 

After some calculations, I mapped out the following schedule:

6:00 am - Rytary

6:30-7:00 am - breakfast

10:00 am - Rytary then warm up for 5000m

10:45- 11:30 am - call room and 5000m

12:00-1:00 pm - lunch

2:00 pm - Rytary

2:45 - warm up for 1500m

3:30-4:00 - call room and 1500m

***

I was the only person in the 5000m, which made for a comical walk to the starting line. The starter joked with me about the distance, and I explained that I was a marathoner, so this was short. Then I dumped my stuff in the basket, lined up, and started (no cameras this time).

Weatherwise, it was far cooler than previous days (75 F, with low humidity).  Unfortunately, a strong wind (17-20 mph sustained) had picked up. The back stretch felt like running into a wall each time and the crosswinds on the turns threw my gait off. But I cranked down the laps as best I could, while the audience politely clapped each home stretch and the announcer said something in Czech (probably along the lines of "the crazy US woman only has 4 laps left!").

After 12+ laps, I came down the homestretch a final time, noting the clock cross over to 23 minutes as I finished.  I had hoped to run faster, but I think the wind slowed me. In any event, I had finished. And since I now had my international classification and there was no world record on the books for the 5000m, I hoped I had just established that record. Somebody has to go first.

I was surprised when three (three!) video cameras surrounded me at the finish line.  I wasn’t quite sure what to do (collapse dramatically?), so I waved. They were between me and the track exit, so I hesitated for a moment before realizing that they would move if I walked towards them. 

 

I entered the mix zone and was immediately approached by a race official.  I had been selected for drug testing (YAY). and needed to report to doping control. Until I was tested, she needed to stay with me as my chaperone.  Simon (USA team leader) explained to me that I was allowed to cooldown or whatever first, as long as I was within sight of my chaperone. But…I had another race this afternoon, so I headed right over so that I could pee in a cup and be on my way.

Doping control, toilets, and other things

I was naive in thinking I would be done so quickly.  For one thing, I was not the only person who had been selected.  When I arrived at doping control, there were at least 5 women ahead of me. 

I waited my turn and then Simon and I were called into a room where the doping control officer (DCO) explained the process. It wasn’t just peeing in a cup. I also had to enter all of my medications and pretty much everything I had consumed in the past week (along with dates and times) on an iPad.  I had been selected to provide both a urine sample and a blood sample and would need to be watched by a chaperone at all times until both were taken. There would also be a wait for the blood sample, as it couldn’t be taken until an hour after I completed my race.

When I was ready to pee (I had been chugging water to get things going), I selected my pee cup from a selection of identical cups in sealed packages and walked with her to the bathroom.  She would be watching me as I peed.

Unfortunately, my first try wasn’t enough (I needed 90 ml and peed about 35).  So that cup was saved and sealed while I returned to guzzling water.

As time passed, I grew concerned that I wouldn’t have enough time to get everything done before the 1500m.  We mentioned this to the DCO, who was horrified and instantly apologetic. I was supposed to be pulled for testing after my last race of the day, and they had missed the fact that I was racing twice.

The problem was: I didn’t have enough time to get both blood and urine done between the two races.  Heck, I had already missed lunch, since my medication schedule dictated lunch between 12-1 pm.  So, I’d have to get the blood drawn after the 1500m. Which meant that I would have to be watched at all times until that blood draw, including while warming up for the 1500m on the winding bike path behind the track.

The initial proposal was to have my assigned chaperone (a young woman who didn’t run) stand in the park while I jogged back and forth. I didn’t like this idea. I get absent minded when I’ve got a race on tap, and I was worried that I would forget I was being watched and run around a corner, resulting in a doping evasion charge.

Fortunately, there was another chaperone who ran, and was significantly faster than me. So (after I completed peeing the full 90 ml) he ran my warm-up with me before handing me back off to my original chaperone, who went everywhere with me (including into the portajohn when I had to pee again and again after completing the urine sample).

***

I was mentally and physically tired when I entered the call room for the 1500m. It had been a long day and a long week, and I hadn’t gotten the rest and mental decompression time I needed after the 5000m. (I had also missed lunch.) It was also hard to be too positive when I knew that I was going to be lapped by the rest of the 1500m field - they were all T20 athletes (so intellectually impaired rather than physically impaired) who had seed times around 5 minutes.

But I was here and had had a great week and it was my final race, so there was no reason not to give it a shot. I grinned awkwardly at the video camera one final time and took my mark.

Still not cool

Once again, I was dropped instantly.  I watched the other five women pull ahead as a single pack while I lumbered behind.  All I could do was my best, but I could tell my gait was stiff and I was tired. Fortunately, 3 and ¾ laps wasn’t that far, and I was also pleasantly surprised to only be lapped by one woman, though I still finished last in 6:59 - running a slower pace for 1500m than I had in the 5000m.

I walked off to the mix zone to meet up with my chaperone. And then was shocked when my credential was returned to me with a card instructing me to appear for the medal ceremony in 40 minutes.  Apparently, though I had finished dead last in the 1500m by over a minute, I had also finished second.  

To explain - each race was ultimately scored by a graded finish time that indexed your time by what was expected of your classification.  Since I was a T36, even though I was much slower than all of the T20s, my time of 6:59 was graded faster (85.77) than the second placed T20 time of 5:13 (82.69).  Wow. Cool.

The timing of the medal ceremony worked out well, since I had an hour to kill before I could get my blood drawn. I got my medal and my goodie bag, then headed back over to doping control for more paperwork and a blood sample, sadly saying farewell to my chaperone. 

My chaperone and I 

During that time, I also learned that my T36 classification was final with a review date of 2028 (meaning I have to redo it at my first international track meet in 2028). 

Around 5:30 pm I was finally done for the day and for the week. I ate a huge dinner and then crawled into bed - the next 48 hours would be spent cheering for my teammates and then traveling home.

Epilogue (i.e., things that I want to mention that didn't fit into the flow of the above):

• I went to this meet not knowing what to expect and left with a great experience and many new friends that I hope I will see again and again. I haven't mentioned the performances of the other USA athletes, because those are not my stories to tell. But I can say that we had a great meet and a great time in Olomouc when not competing. I also had a roommate (other than Brian) for the first time in about 30 years and....best roommate ever. I may be completely spoiled now.

  

  The USA team on July 4

  
  
• As it turned out, my 5000m performance, the first ever in international competition by a female T36, was not a world record. The rules are that the first performance at a distance sets a "record mark." Then, if there is another performance faster than that record mark, that performance establishes a new world record. So...I need to find another WPA sanctioned 5000m. The good news is that the "record mark" that I just set was the slower of the two 5000m track races that I've run this year (stupid wind). So, I should be able to run faster than the record mark of 23:03 - I just need to find a place to do it. (would anybody in the Mid Atlantic US be interested in hosting a WPA sanctioned track meet with drug testing?)
• Olomouc did a fantastic job with this meet - it was a wonderful experience in so many ways. If I have the chance to return next year, I definitely will.
• Our hotel stay included free all you can eat cafeteria style meals in the hotel dining room. And the food was amazing and labeled for all allergens. I barely missed Chipotle.
• The goodie bag that athletes received with their medals included a bunch of cool stuff. And some CBD lotion....Of course, since we're all subject to drug testing, and CBD oil might contain THC, and THC is a banned substance in athletics, none of us took it home.

  

  CBD oil on right

  
  
• One of the post meet highlights was a shopping trip (because we're Americans). In Czech there is a store called Decathlon that is essentially a combination of a Dick's Sporting Goods and an REI. A group made a pilgrimage to Decathlon to purchase all sorts of high quality stuff at remarkably low prices. I didn't need another pair of shorts and three more pairs of tights. But I got them anyway. I also took pictures of the KFC and the Popeyes there, just because.
  
  
  
  
  
  
• My biggest bit of culture shock in the Czech Republic was not the power outlets or the lack of a top sheet. It was the near impossibility of finding plain (non sparkling) water. There were no water fountains anywhere. Most coffee shops did not offer bottled water. The local supermarket was mostly stocked with sparkling water. And the hotel restaurant offered a wide selection of juices, coffee, and tea at each meal, but finding plain water took some investigation.
• Unfortunately, my trip back to the US was not as seamless as the trip to Olomouc. My original flight that connected through Munich was cancelled. I scrambled and rebooked several times before managing to get on a flight to Dulles, connecting through Frankfurt with a short layover time. A delayed flight to Frankfurt cut into that time even more, resulting in me being one of "those people" - doing a panicked shuffle jog with luggage in tow between gates. Fortunately, I made it to the gate in enough time to be assigned a seat (41K - a middle seat in basic economy). Delays on the ground and in the air transformed an 8 hour flight into an 11 hour one, and further delays at Dulles meant that it was another two hours before I got home. It was a rough end to a great week, but still better than the experience of several others from the US, who were delayed by a day+.

Race Report: Tri-State Games, May 24, 2026

I ran the 5000m and the 1500m at the Tri-State Games in Rahway, New Jersey this past weekend, running the 5000m in 22:52.09 and the 1500m in 6:59.59.

This was my second time competing at this meet. I ran it for the first time two years ago and had a great time, so I decided to return and see if I could better my national record for the 5000m (the 22:31 that I ran at this meet two years ago) and get close to my national record for the 1500m (the 6:19 that I ran in August 2024 at a USATF Masters meet).

Ten days out from the meet, the weather was looking great for long distance running - 50s and overcast. But as the dates grew closer, it became clear that this was going to be a dreary weather weekend, with steady rain and wind accompanying the cool temperatures. That was certainly going to make it a bit harder to accomplish my goals, but it was worth a shot anyway.

I had originally planned to take the train up to MetroPark - a few miles from Rahway - and then rely on cabs or rideshare to get around. But the forecast meant that I a) was going to want a car at the race to serve as a warm, dry retreat and b) would need to pack more clothing than I had originally planned. So, I cancelled my train reservation (fully refundable) and filled my car up.

About the need for more clothing: when I get cold, my muscles get tight and it is very hard for me to run fast. If I can't run fast then I don't warm up - it's a vicious circle that destroys races. The answer, of course, is not to get cold. Standing around in wet clothes between races is a great way to get cold. 

Since I had two races that would be separated by about two hours per the race schedule, I packed two complete racing outfits, including two each of sports bra, shorts, singlet, longsleeve, and hat, plus two pairs of socks. The only parts of my racing outfit that I didn't double pack were a) gloves (they were waterproof), b) a headband (I forgot) and c) racing shoes (I only had one pair).

In addition to the above, I packed a running raincoat, a swim parka (useful for wearing if I didn't have enough time to change into dry clothes), and a set of non-running dry clothes for the drive home. Finally, I packed a big jar of Vaseline to coat my legs and a pair of loose sweatpants to wear over my Vaseline-coated legs so that I didn't grease my car's interior.

About the Vaseline: I've always coated my face with Vaseline before rainy, windy, or very cold runs to protect the skin and keep my face a bit warmer. I've also learned from multiple rainy runs that, no matter how cold it is, shorts are always a better choice than tights if it's raining steadily. Nothing is colder than wet tights.

So...putting those two facts together, I decided to try wearing shorts and coating my legs with Vaseline to see if that would keep my legs sufficiently warm.

With all that packed, I left for New Jersey on Saturday morning. The drive up was uneventful, other than noting how (relatively) well behaved the other drivers were as soon as I crossed the state line from Maryland into Delaware. 

I arrived, checked into my hotel, and then organized everything for the next day - one collection of the clothes I would wear for warming up and the first race, plus the Vaseline, the sweatpants, and the running raincoat. I put my dry change of racing clothes into one packing cube and my dry clothes for the drive home in a second cube. I supplemented this with an old spike bag that I would use to hold my wet clothing - when I arrived home, I would dump this straight into the washing machine.

The ambulatory heat of the 5000m was scheduled for 7:40 am, so I arrived at the race around 6:30 am and started warming up around 7. It was windy and raining, and so I wanted to time my warm-up to minimize my time standing around. I went with my standard warm-up - 15 minutes of jogging, then 3 minutes at tempo effort, 4x30 seconds a bit faster, and 4x10 second strides.  

I had debated between singlet or longsleeve for my torso (plus Vaseline underneath, of course). Since it was in the low 50s, I decided to warm-up in the longsleeve under my raincoat (which only partially stopped the rain). It only took a few minutes to confirm that a longsleeve was the right choice this morning. If I wasn't too warm in longsleeve + raincoat, I was certainly going to be too cold in a singlet.

***

Just as I was finishing around 7:30 am, a race official approached - I was the only runner in the ambulatory heat due to the other runner scratching. So that I wouldn't have to run alone, they were going to combine my heat with the wheelchair heat of the 5000m, and I'd start with them at 8:20 am.

I had several concerns about this.  

- First of all, I had timed my warm-up for a 7:40 start, and 40 minutes was enough of a gap that I would have to redo my warm-up.  

- Second, even with a raincoat on, I was soaked. I wasn't chilled yet, but I certainly would be if I had to wear wet clothes for another 40 minutes (as noted before, I did have a dry outfit in the car, but I was saving that for the 1500 later that morning). I didn't want to get cold and essentially end my race before it started.

- Third, there were some fast wheelchair racers in the wheelchair heat, and 5000m was long enough that they would be lapping me at least twice. That seemed bit unsafe in good weather. On a wet track with visibility reduced by the rain? It felt really sketchy to me.

So, I explained to the race official that I would much prefer to do a solo time trial, if I had that option. Having wheelchair racers on the track at the same time wouldn't make the race any easier, mentally, so if that was the primary justification for combining the heats, there was no need to do so.

I felt a bit bad about this, as pushing for a solo heat meant that the race officials would also be standing outside for at least 20 minutes more, but I didn't feel like I had a choice, especially given the late notice.  

The official seemed surprised that I preferred a solo time trial to a combined heat, but didn't argue, and so we were set. I peeled off my raincoat, pinned a bib on my chest and back with the help of others (my hands were already not working too well), and then headed to the start line.  After a few moments delay while the starter fiddled with the gun through a plastic bag, we (meaning I) were (was) off and running.

***

I actually really enjoyed the solo time trial, though at times it would have helped to have someone ahead to focus on. I was able to ease into a rhythm over the first 200, and then steadily build with each lap. The wind was an ally also, as odd as that may sound. When doing a long run on the track, I've found that windy conditions make the run into a fartlek, with part of the run working against the wind and part of the run being assisted. The laps went by surprisingly fast (though also endlessly long at the same time, as is the norm when on a track). With 400 to go, I started an extended kick (or as close as I get to one) and ran just over 7:00 pace (1:45 lap) to finish the 5000m.  

When I had entered this race, I had hoped to run close to 22 minutes. But I wasn't disappointed with being almost a minute over - the wet and windy conditions had almost certainly slowed me down. I was about 20 seconds off of my record, which was a bummer. But sometimes you get a weather lemon. I'd just have to take another shot later this summer.

***

The 5000m done, I hustled back to my car, draped a coat over a window to create the illusion of privacy, and changed into my second racing outfit of the day. Fresh sports bra, shorts, longsleeve, socks, and hat. My racing shoes were still soaked, but hopefully that wouldn't be too miserable if everything else was dry.

After changing, I fortified myself against the elements with the swim parka, the sweatpants, and an umbrella, and walked back over to the track to check stuff out. 

I stood for a bit, chatting with others and watching the second warm-up (they had warm-up sessions before and after the 5000m). But I soon realized that I was getting cold even in dry clothes and rain gear. Since the 1500m had an estimated start time of 10:15 am (90 minutes away), I decided to go back to my car and run the engine. The race had live timing, so I could just track the heats on my phone and use that to time my second warm-up.

***

Around 9:40 I concluded that it was time to warm-up again, so I stepped out into the rain and headed for the track. I took a quick bathroom break and then chatted with a friend for 30 seconds before starting my jog. Only to hear them calling the first heat of the 1500m - my heat - to the start box.

Ooops! This was certainly much earlier than scheduled (though the race had made it clear that the meet was running on a rolling basis and the start times were just estimates.)  I hoped that they were calling us well ahead of the actual heat start, and I could quickly get my hip and shoulder number sticker-thingees and then at least do some strides before starting.

I was wrong on both counts. A) they were NOT calling us well ahead of the start. B) the number-sticker things were all impossible to peel off of their backing - probably because of the cold and wet conditions. It took what felt like an eternity (and was probably about 3 minutes) to get the stickers on me, which meant no time for strides.

We (me and four male runners) were walked to the start by another official who would not allow me to jog to the start. It's a weird rule that I've only experienced at para-athlete meets -- I'm guessing that it's because there are a lot of children at the meet, and they are trying to keep everybody from wandering off. But it was unfortunate for me, because that was my last chance to loosen up my legs. Instead, I tried to do some drills at a walking pace (call it a funny walk) in hopes that would do something.

***

As we lined up, I reminded myself that I had just run a 5000m a bit over an hour ago, and that would be good enough. And then we started, and I confirmed that the earlier 5000m had helped some but not quite enough. My legs weren't awful, but they weren't ready for a mile.

You do what you can with what you have, so I went to work. I spent the first 700m trying just to loosen up and lock into a rhythm and then started to track down those ahead of me. I made up some of the gap over the third lap, and then a fair bit of the gap on the fourth lap, but still finished about 30 seconds behind them, and also at least 30 seconds slower than I thought I was capable of running.  

I was disappointed, and also pretty angry at myself for not keeping better track of where the meet was.  But whatever, my meet was over. And if I hadn't had the day I wanted, at least I knew my fitness was trending upwards. And I also learned a good lesson.

***

Brian and I had concert plans for that evening, so I couldn't stay too long after the 1500m. I said a few good-byes and then headed back to my car change into some dry clothes for the drive home. I may have Parkinsons, but I was still able to completely change clothes in the back seat and then climb over things to get in the driver's seat without issue. And for some reason I was obscenely proud of that. Perhaps lacking in class, but the agility is still there.

Other notes:

• I checked the weather afterwards - 52-54 degrees for the two races with light to steady rain.  The wind reportedly was 17 mph, but it honestly didn't feel quite that strong. 
• Officially, my splits for the 5000m were 57 seconds for the first 200, and then 1600 splits of 7:26, 7:17, and 7:11 - pretty happy with that.  The 1500m splits were 1:26 for the first 300m, and then 1:54, 1:52, and 1:48.  So they trended the right direction, at least.
• It was impossible to remove my lane number sticker from my longsleeve when I got home - I think the rain sealed the sticker to the shirt. I tried freezing the shirt (no luck).  Goo Gone eventually did the trick, but I then had to wash the shirt three times to remove the Goo Gone smell.
• Despite this unfortunate weather, the organizers did a really good job with the meet.  Huge respect to them for putting on such a great event in lousy weather.
• Driving the New Jersey Turnpike was a reminder that not all interstate highways are tryouts for Mad Max extras. Maryland/DMV - I'm looking at you.

Race report: Tri-State Games, May 26, 2024

 I ran the 5000m, the 1500m, and the 800m at the Tri-State Games in Rahway New Jersey last weekend.  I ran these with the goals of a) grabbing qualifying times for the "Hartford Nationals" in July - a national para-athletics championship; b) establishing/setting records in my division for those distances; and c) simply getting experience with para-athletic/adaptive athletic meets, which are similar to traditional meets in some ways, and differ in others.

[Yes, this race report is very late.  I have been simply SWAMPED with life/work stuff.]

This was my first time at a para-athletics track meet, and as an adult onset runner I can't say I'm an old hand at track meets either.  Several years ago I did a few local track meets, so I'm somewhat familiar with racing on the track.  But this meet, run under ATFUSA rules, had a few additional requirements to which I needed to adapt (note the pun).  The first two, which I learned pre-race, were:

Requirement 1: My shoes had to have a sole thickness of 25 mm or less (this shifts to 20 mm or less after October).  This is because ATFUSA follows World Para-Athletics rules on shoes, and the WPA in turn follows World Athletics rules.  So no Vaporflies allowed.

In this era of high stack shoes and super foams it is challenging to find shoes that a) aren't spikes and b) fit this requirement.  I picked up a pair of Dragonflies (1/2 off) and gave them a test run before concluding I wasn't ready for them.  

Fortunately, I had a collection of shoes from 7-8 years ago that I had stocked up on, and then never used and never gotten around to selling on Ebay.  I played with a few of those and confirmed that the Adios Boost 4 was the best option.  I also purchased a pair of Adidas Avantis on sale ($40).  Those were delivered on Friday, so I took those as well when I drove up to New Jersey on Saturday.

Requirement 2: GPS watches were banned. Fortunately, I caught this one before I left for New Jersey, which gave me enough time to buy a cheap Timex watch.  

I race by feel, so I didn't need a watch for that reason.  But...I did want my 5000m splits for posterity, and I also wanted to have some way of telling time so that I could know how fast the day was moving (and more importantly, when it was time to take my meds). 

With both these adjustments made, I was feeling very retro and classic when I rolled into Rahway River Park on Sunday morning.

***

I should probably take a few paragraphs to describe this meet at this point. This was called the Tri-State Games because it involved multiple sports spread over 3 days - power-lifting (Friday night), archery (Saturday morning), field events (Saturday all day), and track (Sunday all day).  It was open to children and adults but skewed 25 and younger - at 50 I was one of the oldest athletes on the track on Sunday. 

The track meet was extremely organized and professional - there were at least 6 USATF officials (in uniform) on the track managing the call box, start line, or finish line or standing elsewhere on the track to observe the races.  There was also a large screen display at the finish displaying splits and times.

The meet was for both wheelchair and ambulatory athletes, resulting in some interesting tweaks to the track meet format I'm most familiar with.  Each distance had multiple heats, with the wheelchairs kept separate from the ambulatory athletes. [The latter category included amputees with prosthetics, visually impaired runners, neurologically impaired runners (hi!), and intellectually impaired runners.]  Most heats were also separated by sex, resulting in up to 14 heats for some distances.  For each distance, the wheelchair heats were first, followed by the ambulatory heats.

The meet schedule included breaks through the day.  Some were familiar: "lunch" or "warm-up."  But "compensator setting" was a mystery until a parent explained it to me.  Compensators are automatic steering systems used by wheelchair racers on the track.  You can set your compensator to go straight or to curve around a bend.  But...while straight is the same on every track, the radius of a turn can vary depending on both the track and one's assigned lane on that track.  So...during compensator setting breaks, the wheelchair athletes in the upcoming heats practice the curves of the track in their assigned lane to ensure their compensators are set correctly for their next heat.

There is also an etiquette to wheelchair and ambulatory athletes sharing the track during warm-ups.  Essentially the wheelchairs get lanes 1-4, and the ambulatory athletes get lanes 6-8.  Lane 5 is to be kept empty as a buffer.

All of this was explained to me by wonderful, friendly people who welcomed me and wanted to make sure I was at ease and enjoying the meet.  It was really a great crowd of people.

***

I arrived at the meet pretty early - around 6:30 am.  This was because I was uncertain of how things were going to go, and I wanted to make sure I had sufficient time to figure out everything and warm-up sufficiently (the track closed to all at 7:35).  As it turned out, this was perfect timing.  

I jogged about 2.5 miles in a pair of old Sub-twos (chosen as my jogging/warm-up shoe because it was also legal for the track and could be used in an emergency) and then swapped to the Adios 4 to do my warm-up fartlek (3:00 at HM effort, 4x30 seconds at 5K effort, and 4x10 second strides).  It had rained overnight and the track was still damp and the air really humid. 

I finished my warm-up about 7:30. Which was perfect, since my first race - the 5000m - started at 7:40 am.  There were two heats: one for wheelchair racers and the other for ambulatory runners.  Since adaptive/para racing seems very biased towards the sprints, there were few takers for the 5000m - just one wheelchair racer in the first heat and me and a guy in his 20s for the ambulatory heat.

The rules were that we had to report to the "call room" (actually a tent at one end of the track) when called for our heat - which was generally 10-15 minutes before the first heat of any distance. For each distance the wheelchair racers went first, followed by the ambulatory runners - meaning that I spent a lot of my day in the call room area.

In the call area ambulatory runners were given sticky numbers for hip and chest (the wheelchair racers placed them on their helmets).  Once I had my sticky numbers placed correctly I watched the single wheelchair racer time-trial a sub-16:00 5000m to get his qualifier, and then it was my turn. 

*** 

The other runner and I were escorted across the infield to the 5000m start line.  The sun had emerged from the clouds and was clearing the fog; however, the humidity lingered.  It was steamy, but I was a marathoner from Virginia.  I wasn't that worried about the heat during a ~3 mile track race 200 miles north of home.

Since I had been standing for 20 minutes at this point, I asked if I could do two strides in the long jump runway and was granted permission.  I was stiff during the strides, but much better for them.

Then we lined up.  I had number 1, so I was on the inside, while the other runner started to my right.  As soon as the gun went off our lane assignments were irrelevant. He exploded off the line and I didn't and so he was almost instantly a full 20m ahead of me.

That was fine.  He was in a different division, and what I really cared about was qualifying, setting the national 5000m record for my division, and ideally leaving a little in the tank for later races.  So I eased into a tempo rhythm, noting how odd and awkward the old Adios shoes felt after doing all my track workouts in vaporflies.  As I turned onto the straightaway towards the finish line for the first time, I noted that there was a display counting down laps.  That was nice - I didn't need to keep track myself.

A lap or so later, I began to reel in the other runner.  Pretty soon I was on his shoulder.  He surged and I didn't - both because it was early in the race and I wanted to hold a steady effort and because I really couldn't.  He pulled away but then faded, and I was back next to him.  This happened twice more in the next two laps, and then I was pulling ahead.

From there on, I simply held my rhythm and counted down the laps, trying to ignore how uncomfortable my feet felt.  By the time I hit 6 laps left, I was feeling the heat and humidity and appreciating my conservative start   The last 3 laps were a major slog (so much for that whole "marathoner from Virginia" thing), but I managed to hold pace.  And then I was done and trying to catch my breath.  The trackside clock showed 22:31 - much slower than I had hoped I'd run - but I had hit my qualifying time (sub-27:00, so not a huge reach) and established the national record for the 5000m for my division (Women's T36) so it was all good.  

***

Next up was the 1500m, scheduled for around 10:15 am.  

When I had registered for this meet, I had signed up for the 5000m, 1500m, and 800m.  Since I'm a marathoner runner who gets faster the longer she runs, my hope was that all three distances would go fairly close to each other in time, so that I could knock them all out and be on my way home (I'd treat it like a cutdown track workout).  But no such luck - the 5000m was the first race of the morning, the 1500m was scheduled for 10:15 am, and the 800m for 3:10 pm.  

So I hung out for a while after my race, before jogging a mile plus some strides at 9:50 to loosen up for the 1500m.  According to the heat sheet, I was the only ambulatory woman in the 1500m, so this would be a solo time trial.  Being by myself was fine with me - I've certainly done enough solo workouts, and I wouldn't have to worry about race tactics or similar.

However, after I finished my warm-up, I was told that they had decided to combine the men's and women's heats, meaning that I would be running around 10:45 instead, during the men's ambulatory heat.  I was a bit surprised - I thought the rules required separate heats for the sexes at any distance under 3000m - but I was reassured by the officials that the heat would be legal and any records set during it would be valid.  I honestly would have preferred the earlier heat and running by myself, but it wasn't my call.  And I'm sure that combining the two heats helped the meet stay on schedule.

So, I waited through both the women's and men's wheelchair 1500m heats (3 total) and then headed towards the 1500m start when directed. Since we were crossing the field to the start line I took the opportunity to do a stride on the field, only to get yelled at.  I'm not sure why the stride was allowed for the 5000m but not the 1500m, but oh well.  At least I hadn't been DQed.

We lined up (I was lane 1, again).  There were 6 runners total in this heat - me and 5 males, ranging in age between 14 and 23.  None were in my T36 division - four of the five were T37s (another neurological division - with one bad side instead of two) and the fifth was a T20 (intellectually impaired).  

The starter gave us our final instructions, with a surprise twist.  Because we were effectively running two separate heats for the two sexes simultaneously, there could be no drafting between sexes.  I could not run in the same lane immediately behind any male, and they couldn't run behind me.  Honestly, it was the first I had ever heard of a no-drafting rule anywhere in running, but...this was also my first para-meet, so there you go.

Then the starter stepped back, barked "on your mark," and fired the pistol.

***

Unsurprisingly, I was once again dropped by everyone in the field.  The men all exploded off the line, but then started fading as early as 100m into the race.  This wouldn't have been an issue except for the no-drafting rule, which meant that I couldn't tuck in behind someone on a turn and then swing out wide on the straightaway to pass.  If they were in lane 1, I couldn't be behind them in lane 1.

Since I was running this race primarily for a qualifying time (sub 10:20) and to break the current national record for my division (7:40.40) I really didn't want to be DQed. In a slight excess of caution, I ran most of this race in either lane 2 or 3 to be super careful (I was unclear on exactly what distance between two runners qualified as drafting). 

Running wide, I reeled in 4 of the 5 men over the next three laps (all the T37s) but wasn't ever able to catch the T20 - he beat me by 30 seconds.   But I had achieved what I needed to.  Two races down, one to go.

***

The 800m was several hours away, so I found some shade and had lunch (gluten free bagel, bananas, and some dates - nothing heavy with a race a few hours away).  The track was open for a mid-day break, and so I jogged back over and did some strides in first my Adios 4s and then a brand new pair of Adidas Avanti spikes (without the actual spikes) that had been delivered on Friday afternoon.  The Avantis felt a bit better than the Adios during the strides, so I decided to try them in the 800m.  It was only two laps, so how bad could it be?

Then I hung out for a few more hours (the host team - the North Jersey Navigators - generously invited me to hang out under their tents) before jogging another mile plus some strides in preparation for my last race.

***

There were four heats of the women's 800m, and once again the ambulatory athletes were in the last heat.  Since all heats were ordered to the call box area 15 minutes before the start of the first heat, this meant that I stood (or did leg swings or marched in place to try to stay limber) for about 30 minutes before being called to the start line (WALKING ONLY this time).  My legs felt like they were made of iron, and not in a good way.

But hey, at least I had the Avantis on - perhaps they would be magic.   Only one way to find out.

We took our assigned lanes - the orders were to stay in lane until we ran past some cones.  At that point we could break to the inside lane.  I had been assigned lane 7, which I appreciated - the wider turn would be more comfortable.

Another "on your mark" and then the pistol.  And I lurched off the start line.  I stayed in my lane until I passed the cones, and then I gradually eased my way to the inside lane, hitting it just before the next turn (My coach had warned me not to cut in too quickly - you just add extra distance that way).

Three of the women were ahead of me at that point.  My legs felt utterly awful and clumsy, but even so I managed to pass one woman (a T37) and hang right off the shoulder of another (a T62 - aka a double amputee).  The T62 and I were together for about 500m - I tried to pass her but was honestly doing well just to stay on my feet at this point.  Then we hit the home stretch and she kicked, and I just watched her pull away while I ground my way to the finish, trying not to trip and fall over my Avantis.  

I ran 3:43 for the 800m - literally a slower pace than I had held for the 5000m or 1500m.  I was more amused than upset, though.  I knew the 800m was very much outside my wheelhouse, and I only needed to break 4:50 to qualify for nationals at that distance. As it turned out, the 3:43 was a national record for my division for the 800m as well (too bad they couldn't count one of the middle 800s of my 5000m from that morning), so the race was still a productive one, if ugly.

I was amused, though - post race - by the comments I received post-race on how obviously tired I was from having run the 5000m and 1500m first.  Honestly, fatigue was about 10% responsible for my bad race; the other 90% was having to stand for 30 minutes before running.

Nevertheless, I was done.  Finally.  I walked around a bit to say goodby to various friends I had made, cleaned up as best I could in a park bathroom, ate a belated box lunch (or two), and then jumped in the car for the three and a half hour drive home.  It had been a long day, but a fun and fulfilling one.

***

Splits for the three races, as noted by the timing system:

5000m: - the first 200m was 54 seconds, and then I split 1:49, 1:51, 1:50, 1:49, 1:48, 1:47, 1:47, 1:47, 1:48, 1:48, 1:48, 1:46

1500m: the first 300m was 1:18, and then I split 1:50, 1:47, 1:46

800m: splits were 1:50/1:53.

Other notes:

• The weather was pretty good for a track meet, but definitely warm.  It was 68 degrees with a matching dew point for the 5000m, 75 degrees with a dew point of 70 for the 1500m, and 81 degrees with a dew point of 70 for the 800m.  I felt the weather substantially affected me for the 5000m but wasn't really an issue for the 1500m or the 800m - such are the benefits of shorter races.
  
  
• I was really struck by how well managed this meet was.  Officials were everywhere, including various locations on the track, watching each race carefully for possible infractions. The names of all athletes and their clubs (nearly 100 athletes) were listed in a paper program distributed on race day. Free water and Gatorade were available to everyone and continually restocked.  Announcements and instructions were timely, clear, and easy to follow.  The results from each race were posted within 10 minutes of the race's completion.  It was just a high quality event.
  
  
• I think what I most enjoyed about this meet was how pure it was.  In recent years, it seems that races have become this weird carnival of selfie sticks and influencer meet ups and people printing up bibs with their own names on them and/or bitching about really trivial things like the composition of a race medal or jacket.  The bigger the race, the worse the circus. 
  
  This meet had none of that.  It was simply athletes toeing the line and racing as hard as they could, and then congratulating each other at the finish line, before taking to the sidelines to cheer for others.  No influencing or "inspiration" - just competition in a completely whining-free venue, where everyone was welcomed as an athlete and a fellow competitor.  It was utterly refreshing.