Those few faithful followers of this blog may recall that in the fall of 2009 I re-entered the world of running, having taken a mini-sabbatical. I was a little burned out from years of the same training pattern, and struggling to find challenge (meaning?) after a single lackluster marathon in 2008 following my foray into ultramarathoning. So I retooled under the framework of all-around fitness, did the p90x program while running only once or so per week, and then started seriously taking up speed training in the late fall and early winter. It was all going very well, and I was at a fairly good level of fitness, when I sprained my neck doing pull-ups and was essentially out of commission for a few months. My running didn't suffer much but my speed and strength training did, and although I did some nice long runs I misjudged and peaked way too early.
I thought about not doing the race, then thought about doing the half marathon, then thought I wouldn't be able to anyway because we had no babysitter. So, having settled into the complacency of "I would, and I want to, but I just can't," my boss kindly agreed to watch the kids so both Jess and I could race, and it was time to shit or get off the pot. Knowing that I was seriously undertrained (11 weeks since my last long run, a bare minimum 18 miler) I got myself psyched up and said I would just push it and do the best I could. After all, this would be my 10th time running the marathon distance, and I had managed to figure out the routine. In fact, I hadn't had to stop and walk since 2003! You can get the picture: I knew this would be a challenging race, but I had no idea how hard.
It started well. The temperature was between 55 and 60, with a cloudy sky. It was slightly humid but overall very nice running conditions. The cloud cover was high and didn't obscure the view of the Adirondack mountains across the lake from Battery park. My legs were a bit tired as I had been working around the house and getting stuff at Lowe's the day before, but I figured they would loosen up as the race went on. I found my team (more about them soon), did the group picture, dropped my bag, went to the port-a-potty, and squeezed my way into the starting corral. Oddly, though it was a Memorial Day weekend race, I don't remember singing the national anthem, bowing our heads, or anything like that -- just the governor making a corny joke ("Governor Douglas, are you going to run...for re-election?"). The horn went off, I shuffled across the starting line, and settled in behind the 3:40 pacer -- very optimistic based on past results and current training, but what the hell.
The first part of the race goes through the town of Burlington - some residential neighborhoods and the pedestrian marketplace. I followed the crowd, saw my daughters at mile 2 or so -- Cadien saw me and got a big smile on her face, while Rowan was so dazed by all the people that I don't think she had any idea -- and settled in to pace at about 8:40-8:55 per mile. I will admit that I broke my early and cardinal rule of marathoning; "Don't work at all in the first half" During my first marathon, I was a faster runner but similarly undertrained due to injury, and this strategy had worked well to prevent me from flaming out early. I've held to this rule variably since then, bending it but never breaking it. Here, I ignored it, and pushed hard to avoid getting passed, to feel like I was flying (in fact, one of the greatest moments I've had running was during my first marathon, when I felt like I was effortlessly gliding but was passing people left and right after having held back for half of the race), and to get early part of the race over with. It was a nice segment, with great energy and fantastic crowds. Probably the highlight was the pair of patriotic themed transvestite/cross-dressers on Church Street.
About 5 miles in, the race cuts north out of town, down into a valley, and along a 6 or so mile out-and-back segment on a road. Many people don't like this segment but I've always enjoyed it - after a packed course with a lot of turns it gives me a chance to get in a groove and just run for a while. Indeed, I did feel pretty good here, but was definitely working. On the way back I passed Jess as she was starting her relay leg, and pushed hard to come up the hill as we came back into town. Miles 8,9,10 were not bad, as we ran back through town and started south towards the waterfront and the halfway point, but I could feel myself working harder and harder.
As I neared OakLedge park and the halfway point, I could feel my pace slipping, myself getting tired, and people start to pass me in earnest. I wasn't doing too badly, though, and kept enough of a positive focus that I enjoyed the view of the water (we were now running north along the waterfront) and even looking forward to the challenge of the Battery Street hill. As I turned the corner to go up the hill, I saw Jess cheering me on -- totally unexpected -- and it buoyed me enough to put my head down and take a decent, steady pace up the hill (half a mile or so, probably 4% grade? -- not too bad but psychologically one of the most challenging and memorable parts of the race). Between that and the intense crowds I felt I was doing all right, until the 4:00 pacer blew by me. And I mean he blew by me. I gave up my faint hopes of running under 4 hours, and at the top of the hill my stride turned into a shuffle that I know all too well - not something I want to be doing with 10 miles to go in a race I wanted to "crush" or "own" not two weeks prior.
Now, on long runs and in races I've thought of quitting many times. It's a point of personal pride that I've never quit in the middle of a race, so much so that I didn't think it a realistic possibility. To top it off, the team I run with raises money for the Vermont Children's Hospital, and our slogan this year (printed brightly and largely on the backs of our shirts: "Never give up, ever."). So as I tried to turn my shuffle back to a run over miles 16, 17, 18 on a long straightaway and turning into a lollipop loop in a neighborhood that I remember as being a low point in my 2008 race, I focused everything on putting off what I now regarded as inevitable, the walk breaks. I know some people use them effectively, but for me they have been a sign of giving up on a race as a race, and, as I mentioned, eliminating them from marathons and training runs was a big deal. I managed to continue running roughly 10-minute miles until mile marker 19, when I stopped to walk and from then on walked half a mile or so and ran 1.5 miles or so (repeated a few times). The running was not bad but the walking was painful in many ways. Finally at mile 24.5 or so, the 4:30 pacer passed me and shouted some vaguely annoying bit of encouragement, so I started running again and passed the pacer (who was herself not on pace!). I gritted through to the end with little left for a final push, crossed the finish line, and started the process of recovering from the familiar post-race queasiness. Final time: 4:31:17 by the timing system.
In a way, I met one of my goals, which was to run so hard that I didn't have anything left - I remember some other marathons where I wish I had pushed harder because I wasn't "tired enough" at the end. But I never expected to post my worst time by far. The funny thing is that I have no excuses: the weather was great, the course was familiar, the crowds were fantastic (kids handing out watermelon pieces in the residential neighborhoods, many people with their hose sprayers on, costumes, views, etc.) the team support was great. But this was a humbling experience, since despite my experience with other marathons, an ultramarathon, an Ironman, etc., this race kicked my ass because of the simple fact that I wasn't well trained, I wasn't well rested, and I wasn't mentally prepared. I don't think it's a bad thing getting my ass kicked, and I didn't have a bad experience. But this race was hard. I am proud of the fact that I finished.
Lessons learned:
1. Respect the marathon.
2. Performance has everything to do with present fitness, training, attitude; and little with past achievements.
3. If you wear a shirt that says "Never Give Up" then you are pretty much locked in.
4. Also, if you buy a toilet and carry it into your house then that is not resting your legs.
I can tell you one thing: I'm not going out like that. I know we are moving to Florida in a few weeks and it will take a a month or more to become acclimatized to the humidity and heat, but I am feeling the stirrings that make me want to train and run until I run the best and fastest race I can. I may not qualify for Boston anytime before retirement but I can damn well break 3:40 with some real attention to training.
Another race, another day.
Time: 4:31:17 ( 10:21 average pace )
Splits:
1 - 9:25
2 - 8:45
3 - 8:58
4 - 8:32
5 - 8:43
6 - 8:35
7 - 8:53
8 - 8:52
9 - 8:55
10 - 8:55
11 - 8:53
12 - 9:10
13 - 9:13
14 - 9:56
15 - 9:52
16 - 10:04
17 - 10:06
18 - 10:17
19* - 14:22
20 - 11:34
21*+22 - 25:11
23* - 15:21
24 - 11:07
25* - 15:03
26 - 10:14
.2 - 2:14
* = walk/run
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