ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I crushed my goal of 21:00 with a 19:50, a mere 27 seconds slower than my PR and 13 seconds faster than Dash Down Greenville, the last time I ran fast, about 2 months earlier. I might have been aiming a little low, but I definitely didn't expect my 2nd fastest 5K ever.
DID YOU WIN?
I made it to the first page of the results, coming in 59th place out of 4039 overall, including 56th of 1830 men and 8th of 278 in my age group.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
Coming off of Boston and Big Sur, the peroneal tendonitis in my right leg that had laid dormant for a year started to make a return. With a 50K looming just 36 hours after this race, I probably should have just laid way back and enjoyed a friendly jog with my co-workers, 5 of whom showed up as well.
But as with many, when I line up, it's hard to lay off (and sure, maybe I wanted to show off a little). I headed out of Reverchon Park at a controlled but quick pace, got up the Blackburn hill with no trouble and headed toward the trail entrance.
Somewhere in here I had a feeling I'd never before experienced. I was coming up on the halfway point thinking, this is it? I've run dozens and dozens of races but this was really the first time where, during the event, I felt as though it was going to be over before I even really got going.
Coming down the trail past the 2-mile mark, it was obvious I would be safely under 21:00. I passed folks here and there, but one of them stuck to my left shoulder as I went by. I could sense him there; that feeling just drives me crazy. I was made more insane by the constant jingling of his keys or some other item he was carrying that sounded like a little bell of some sort. I tried running faster to lose him, but he stayed right there in my shadow. Just before the finish, he zipped past me, but by then I had turned in a 3rd mile faster than the first 2 and a 2nd consecutive negative split event (I negative-split Big Sur by 11 seconds, though the course had a lot to do with that).
WHAT ELSE?
I can't think of anything to add other than I think I put my quite expensive sunglasses down somewhere and forgot about them, so that kinda canceled out the joy of the thing.
SPLITS?
6:27
6:32
6:14
5:56 pace last .1
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
I would issue my standard "it's a 5K; you get a shirt" line, but the real reason to plunk down the 40 bucks and run this is the after-party. Some 30 or 35 restaurants show up and feed you and ply you with alcohol until you can take no more. This ain't bagels and bananas; I was chowing down on fresh cookies and pasta and some kind of fancy shrimp cocktail thing. There's a reason they can sell out 5000 spots at 40 bucks a pop for a midweek race. (There's also a reason to run as fast as you can: to hit all the food and beverage tables before the crush of folks come through.)
WHAT'S NEXT?
Next was the 4 Pines 4 Ways 50K, which I ran Saturday. Race report is forthcoming.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
Race preview: 4 Pines 4 Ways 50K
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Eustace, TX
WHEN?
Saturday, May 12
WHY?
4 Pines 4 Ways 50K
NO REALLY, WHY?
This will sort of be a training run for Old Dominion, in the sense that it's a supported long run. Beyond that, I dunno, just felt like it.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Very, very few people. It's an inaugural, bare-bones race in May more or less in the middle of nowhere (there are also 25K, 10K and 5K distances; each race is a multiple of 5K loops). I've seen a little bit of promotion come along in the last week but I expect to find a good parking spot nonetheless.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
We should catch a nice break with the temperature, starting at 63 and only getting up to about 70 by the time I'm done. The issue is going to be thunderstorms; they'll be around, it's just a matter of when.
HOW DO WE WIN?
A win for me would be a PR. My one 50K to date was last year's Cowtown, at which I hobbled through 23 miles of tendonitis to finish in a disappointing 4:40. Oddly enough, I've had minor bouts of the same issue flare up in the last few weeks, so how well I keep that at bay will determine whether I get it done.
Eustace, TX
WHEN?
Saturday, May 12
WHY?
4 Pines 4 Ways 50K
NO REALLY, WHY?
This will sort of be a training run for Old Dominion, in the sense that it's a supported long run. Beyond that, I dunno, just felt like it.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Very, very few people. It's an inaugural, bare-bones race in May more or less in the middle of nowhere (there are also 25K, 10K and 5K distances; each race is a multiple of 5K loops). I've seen a little bit of promotion come along in the last week but I expect to find a good parking spot nonetheless.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
We should catch a nice break with the temperature, starting at 63 and only getting up to about 70 by the time I'm done. The issue is going to be thunderstorms; they'll be around, it's just a matter of when.
HOW DO WE WIN?
A win for me would be a PR. My one 50K to date was last year's Cowtown, at which I hobbled through 23 miles of tendonitis to finish in a disappointing 4:40. Oddly enough, I've had minor bouts of the same issue flare up in the last few weeks, so how well I keep that at bay will determine whether I get it done.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Race preview: Katy Trail 5K
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Dallas
WHEN?
Thursday, May 10
WHY?
Katy Trail 5K
NO REALLY, WHY?
A couple months ago, a couple co-workers pitched the idea of running this as a group. I would have next to no interest otherwise, but I figured hey, what the heck, I'll be social.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
The handful of us from the office are among a sold-out field of 5000.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
Partly cloudy and 79 degrees. Normally I would call that hot but it's not at all outrageous for a May evening and besides, it's only a 5K; I've done worse.
HOW DO WE WIN?
A while back I told my boss I would go under 21:00. That's still my goal, but it's probably a stretch given that I only went 20:03 two months ago when it was 15 degrees cooler or so. And I've had a little bit of tendonitis in my right shin that's led me to take a couple extra days off this week. I'll beat all my co-workers; that should be good enough.
Dallas
WHEN?
Thursday, May 10
WHY?
Katy Trail 5K
NO REALLY, WHY?
A couple months ago, a couple co-workers pitched the idea of running this as a group. I would have next to no interest otherwise, but I figured hey, what the heck, I'll be social.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
The handful of us from the office are among a sold-out field of 5000.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
Partly cloudy and 79 degrees. Normally I would call that hot but it's not at all outrageous for a May evening and besides, it's only a 5K; I've done worse.
HOW DO WE WIN?
A while back I told my boss I would go under 21:00. That's still my goal, but it's probably a stretch given that I only went 20:03 two months ago when it was 15 degrees cooler or so. And I've had a little bit of tendonitis in my right shin that's led me to take a couple extra days off this week. I'll beat all my co-workers; that should be good enough.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Race review: Big Sur International Marathon
ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
I thought I'd beat my Boston time, but I surprised myself with an 18-minute drop to 3:22:31, less than 10 minutes off my PR on a difficult course made even tougher by occasional quite strong headwinds.
DID YOU WIN?
On a percentile basis I had one of my more impressive placements to date, finishing 127th overall out of 3364, 117th of 1786 men and 25th of 270 in my age group.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
The downside of saving a few bucks by staying in Salinas was a 2:15 a.m. wake-up to drive the half hour or so to Carmel to catch the 3:30 bus to the start. Like most people, I never sleep well the night before a race, but this took it to a new level.
The bus-loading process was pretty painless, and on the way down to Big Sur I tried at first to take note of the hills. Eventually I quit paying attention because it wasn't like I could just wish the hills away. My race plan, whatever it may have been, wasn't going to change now.
After two full hours of standing around, we filled in the starting chute. I turned on my Garmin only to find the battery was dead. (This has happened twice in the last few weeks. The maid needs to quit messing with my stuff.) I went ahead and started with the 3:35 pace group, figuring that would probably take care of my need to worry about my pace.
The start felt like a repeat of Boston as we dropped down a steep downhill right off the bat -- only this hill kept going further and further down. I knew going in that the course had a net downhill of 275 feet and it felt like we were using it all up in the first couple of miles. I left the 3:35 group behind as that pace was just way too easy. Maybe I'd see them later, but without having my watch to rely on, I'd just have to run at whatever speed felt right.
After we passed mile 5, we left the protection of the redwoods behind and got our first taste of the wind. It wasn't bad at first, but gradually it picked up. Past the 6-mile mark I was within range of the 3:25 pace group, so I sped up to fill in behind them and let them block the wind, which was now blowing from the northwest at a steady 15-20 mph, right in our faces. I stayed with the pack for the next 3 miles or so, saving energy until an eastward turn put the wind at my back and my fresher legs zipped ahead.
That energy would be drained soon enough while making the big climb to Hurricane Point. The 3:25 pacer and a much smaller group of followers made their way past me as I huffed my way up. When I got to the top and turned to look back, as everyone said I should do, there was nothing to see but fog. In front of me, runners even 20 feet away were fuzzy and misty. And the wind was still blowing.
Coming down the other side, my legs were not in the mood. I thought I'd be able to glide down a drop that was just as steep as the climb, but I just couldn't get my cadence up. Crossing the Bixby Bridge at the halfway point was a wonderful distraction (more on this shortly) but I was mentally preparing myself for a slog to the finish.
Fortunately, the course was thick with walkers and joggers in the 21-mile event. Continually passing people kept me going, and after a while I was feeling better. The hills rolled up and down, the fog rolled in and out, and I kept chugging along, eventually catching back up to the 3:25 group around mile 18. He and I would leapfrog each other a couple of times over the next several miles, and I finally went ahead of him for good at the top of the last hill with less than a mile to go.
WHAT ELSE?
I ran this race as the back half of the Boston 2 Big Sur Challenge. In many ways Big Sur is the anti-Boston. It's on the opposite coast, of course, and the physical setting is vastly different. There are no spectators whatsoever until very close to the finish. And with a number of other distances offered, with at least a couple of them untimed, the target audience is not the elite crowd you'll find in Boston. Nevertheless, it's a race I highly recommend to anyone, as the scenic beauty is just unparalleled.
A lot of folks, myself included, were bummed about the fog. Here we are at the most scenic marathon in North America and we can hardly see a thing. There were a few breaks where we got clear views of the coastline, and one of those happened to be while crossing the iconic Bixby Bridge. The runners around me were silent, and all we could hear was the pounding of pavement and the music from the piano on the other side of the bridge. It was, bar none, the most beautiful moment of my running career. That scene alone is worth the price of admission.
One area for improvement is the setup at the start. The state park facility is just too small to handle thousands of runners. I stood in one spot for 2 hours simply because there was just nowhere to move around. I felt this once the race was underway, as it took a few miles to really get loosened up. Unfortunately I don't know that there's any solution other than putting a lower cap on the field. A wave start wouldn't work and a course change is not possible.
And one more note... I am big on running tangents. That seems like a no-brainer but you'd be shocked at how many folks leave more work for themselves by taking the long way. Even in Boston there were masses of folks not taking the inside curve on flat road. But at Big Sur, taking the shortest path usually means dealing with a severely tilted (cambered) road. I did it anyway but you could surely make an argument that repeatedly maneuvering across sharp slants is more trouble than it's worth. I'd be curious to know from Big Sur veterans what they think of running the shortest course vs. staying on the flatter edges of the road.
SPLITS?
5 mi: 37:46 (7:34 pace)
13.1 mi: 1:41:21 (7:44 pace)
15.6 mi: 1:59:19 (7:39 pace)
22 mi: 2:48:24 (7:40 pace)
26.2 mi: 3:22:31 (7:44 pace)
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
My participation in Boston 2 Big Sur got me a few extra perks, like a nice finisher's jacket, VIP tent access with plenty of available seats, and a complimentary entry to the post-race party. Of course, I paid a much higher registration fee, but I'd say it was worth it. The "goodie bag" was all online in the form of coupons you could print at your leisure, but none appealed to me. As my wife said, the medals are about as California as you can get:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Katy Trail 5K, May 10.
I thought I'd beat my Boston time, but I surprised myself with an 18-minute drop to 3:22:31, less than 10 minutes off my PR on a difficult course made even tougher by occasional quite strong headwinds.
DID YOU WIN?
On a percentile basis I had one of my more impressive placements to date, finishing 127th overall out of 3364, 117th of 1786 men and 25th of 270 in my age group.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
The downside of saving a few bucks by staying in Salinas was a 2:15 a.m. wake-up to drive the half hour or so to Carmel to catch the 3:30 bus to the start. Like most people, I never sleep well the night before a race, but this took it to a new level.
The bus-loading process was pretty painless, and on the way down to Big Sur I tried at first to take note of the hills. Eventually I quit paying attention because it wasn't like I could just wish the hills away. My race plan, whatever it may have been, wasn't going to change now.
After two full hours of standing around, we filled in the starting chute. I turned on my Garmin only to find the battery was dead. (This has happened twice in the last few weeks. The maid needs to quit messing with my stuff.) I went ahead and started with the 3:35 pace group, figuring that would probably take care of my need to worry about my pace.
The start felt like a repeat of Boston as we dropped down a steep downhill right off the bat -- only this hill kept going further and further down. I knew going in that the course had a net downhill of 275 feet and it felt like we were using it all up in the first couple of miles. I left the 3:35 group behind as that pace was just way too easy. Maybe I'd see them later, but without having my watch to rely on, I'd just have to run at whatever speed felt right.
After we passed mile 5, we left the protection of the redwoods behind and got our first taste of the wind. It wasn't bad at first, but gradually it picked up. Past the 6-mile mark I was within range of the 3:25 pace group, so I sped up to fill in behind them and let them block the wind, which was now blowing from the northwest at a steady 15-20 mph, right in our faces. I stayed with the pack for the next 3 miles or so, saving energy until an eastward turn put the wind at my back and my fresher legs zipped ahead.
That energy would be drained soon enough while making the big climb to Hurricane Point. The 3:25 pacer and a much smaller group of followers made their way past me as I huffed my way up. When I got to the top and turned to look back, as everyone said I should do, there was nothing to see but fog. In front of me, runners even 20 feet away were fuzzy and misty. And the wind was still blowing.
Coming down the other side, my legs were not in the mood. I thought I'd be able to glide down a drop that was just as steep as the climb, but I just couldn't get my cadence up. Crossing the Bixby Bridge at the halfway point was a wonderful distraction (more on this shortly) but I was mentally preparing myself for a slog to the finish.
Fortunately, the course was thick with walkers and joggers in the 21-mile event. Continually passing people kept me going, and after a while I was feeling better. The hills rolled up and down, the fog rolled in and out, and I kept chugging along, eventually catching back up to the 3:25 group around mile 18. He and I would leapfrog each other a couple of times over the next several miles, and I finally went ahead of him for good at the top of the last hill with less than a mile to go.
WHAT ELSE?
I ran this race as the back half of the Boston 2 Big Sur Challenge. In many ways Big Sur is the anti-Boston. It's on the opposite coast, of course, and the physical setting is vastly different. There are no spectators whatsoever until very close to the finish. And with a number of other distances offered, with at least a couple of them untimed, the target audience is not the elite crowd you'll find in Boston. Nevertheless, it's a race I highly recommend to anyone, as the scenic beauty is just unparalleled.
A lot of folks, myself included, were bummed about the fog. Here we are at the most scenic marathon in North America and we can hardly see a thing. There were a few breaks where we got clear views of the coastline, and one of those happened to be while crossing the iconic Bixby Bridge. The runners around me were silent, and all we could hear was the pounding of pavement and the music from the piano on the other side of the bridge. It was, bar none, the most beautiful moment of my running career. That scene alone is worth the price of admission.
One area for improvement is the setup at the start. The state park facility is just too small to handle thousands of runners. I stood in one spot for 2 hours simply because there was just nowhere to move around. I felt this once the race was underway, as it took a few miles to really get loosened up. Unfortunately I don't know that there's any solution other than putting a lower cap on the field. A wave start wouldn't work and a course change is not possible.
And one more note... I am big on running tangents. That seems like a no-brainer but you'd be shocked at how many folks leave more work for themselves by taking the long way. Even in Boston there were masses of folks not taking the inside curve on flat road. But at Big Sur, taking the shortest path usually means dealing with a severely tilted (cambered) road. I did it anyway but you could surely make an argument that repeatedly maneuvering across sharp slants is more trouble than it's worth. I'd be curious to know from Big Sur veterans what they think of running the shortest course vs. staying on the flatter edges of the road.
SPLITS?
5 mi: 37:46 (7:34 pace)
13.1 mi: 1:41:21 (7:44 pace)
15.6 mi: 1:59:19 (7:39 pace)
22 mi: 2:48:24 (7:40 pace)
26.2 mi: 3:22:31 (7:44 pace)
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
My participation in Boston 2 Big Sur got me a few extra perks, like a nice finisher's jacket, VIP tent access with plenty of available seats, and a complimentary entry to the post-race party. Of course, I paid a much higher registration fee, but I'd say it was worth it. The "goodie bag" was all online in the form of coupons you could print at your leisure, but none appealed to me. As my wife said, the medals are about as California as you can get:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Katy Trail 5K, May 10.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Race preview: Big Sur International Marathon
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Big Sur, CA
WHEN?
Sunday, Apr. 29
WHY?
Big Sur International Marathon
NO REALLY, WHY?
This is the back half of the Boston 2 Big Sur Challenge. Every so often the quirks of the calendar have put this race on the Sunday immediately following Marathon Monday. That is closer to a real challenge -- this is no big whoop.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
The marathon field of 4500 will include almost 400 B2B challengers, including noted stat freak Greg, who will start the race in 8th place among male entrants (the 5 men and women with the lowest cumulative time will get prizes; I'm merely 47th among men according to Greg). For reasons known to BSIM but not myself, there are 21-, 10.6- and 9-mile races as well.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
Looks to be mostly sunny and about 50 degrees at the start, warming to 60 by the time we get to Carmel. The ever-present headwind should be totally manageable at just 7 or 8 mph. In other words, it looks great.
HOW DO WE WIN?
In the bigger picture, this is still primarily a training race for Old Dominion, so I won't be out there to break any records. But with great weather on tap, and maybe a little more in the tank from not running all-out in Boston, I do want to turn in a strong effort. I'll shoot for 3:30 as an A goal and set 3:40 as the floor.
Big Sur, CA
WHEN?
Sunday, Apr. 29
WHY?
Big Sur International Marathon
NO REALLY, WHY?
This is the back half of the Boston 2 Big Sur Challenge. Every so often the quirks of the calendar have put this race on the Sunday immediately following Marathon Monday. That is closer to a real challenge -- this is no big whoop.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
The marathon field of 4500 will include almost 400 B2B challengers, including noted stat freak Greg, who will start the race in 8th place among male entrants (the 5 men and women with the lowest cumulative time will get prizes; I'm merely 47th among men according to Greg). For reasons known to BSIM but not myself, there are 21-, 10.6- and 9-mile races as well.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
Looks to be mostly sunny and about 50 degrees at the start, warming to 60 by the time we get to Carmel. The ever-present headwind should be totally manageable at just 7 or 8 mph. In other words, it looks great.
HOW DO WE WIN?
In the bigger picture, this is still primarily a training race for Old Dominion, so I won't be out there to break any records. But with great weather on tap, and maybe a little more in the tank from not running all-out in Boston, I do want to turn in a strong effort. I'll shoot for 3:30 as an A goal and set 3:40 as the floor.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Race review: Boston Marathon
ENOUGH WITH THE SMALL TALK. HOW'D IT GO?
By the clock, my time was positively average -- but by the Brookstone combination indoor/outdoor weather station you might give as a Father's Day gift that has both a clock and a thermometer, it was as damn solid a 3:40:46 as I could have come up with.
DID YOU WIN?
I didn't win but I sure did outperform if you go by expectations. One of my goals was to beat my bib number (6835) and I did so easily, placing 4722nd of 21,554 starters -- 3817th of 12,588 men and 2078th of 4329 in my age group.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
To everyone's chagrin, a strong warm front came through New England the day before the race, and we all had to adjust our expectations in the face of record-high temperatures in the upper 80s. I am known to be an awful runner in the heat, which is kind of a disgrace for someone living in Texas. My only goal was to avoid completely embarrassing myself.
I got off the bus in Hopkinton (more on this later) at about 8:45. It was already warm, something like 75 degrees. Runners crammed into any square inch of shade they could find. Two huge white tents were set up in the field behind the high school; I managed to squeeze into a narrow spot of grass and sit while I waited for the call to the corral.
At 9:20 I started to head up the street. I was walking down Grove Street with thousands of other runners in the middle of a ghost town. There was not a speck of activity in or around any of the houses, other than all of us walking on the street between the barricades. It was kind of eerie, really... until it became apparent that all 15,000 residents were already gathered at the starting line.
I entered my corral and found a couple fellow Texans, Erin and Mike, to chat with until the start. I could already feel myself roasting on the asphalt. We heard the elite men being introduced and the anthem being played, and then we were off. I crossed the starting line a little less than 5 minutes after the gun went off.
Even with all the runners lined up in corrals based on qualifying times, the first 2 miles were still plenty congested. Everyone was wisely saving energy, myself included. The opening downhill was just an easy jog, and when things flattened out, I kept going at what felt like a very comfortable pace.
The feel was pretty rural (and crowded) until a little past Mile 3, when we descended into Ashland and things opened up just a little bit. The throngs of residents and the big Adidas "Ashland is All In" sign almost gave me goosebumps on a hot day. It was a scene that would play out again as I moved on to Framingham and Natick. I kept a reasonably steady pace, trying not to feed off the crowds too much but rather just to enjoy all their support. Wherever I could, I low-fived the little kids standing along the road. Some of them were keeping count and bragging to their friends about whose hand had received more slaps.
Of course, nothing to that point would compare to Wellesley. You could hear the girls screaming long before you could see them. I told my wife I would not stop to kiss any of them, and I didn't -- but I definitely lined up along the rail and high-fived as many of them as I could over that 300-yard stretch. Nearly all of them had signs: "Kiss Me I'm an Economist", "Kiss Me I'm Graduating", "Kiss Me I'm From Texas", and my favorite, the simple "I Won't Tell Your Wife".
I crossed the 13.1 mat in 1:42:22, which was probably the first time I started to think about my finish time. I had in mind that an average pace of 8:00 would be an exceptional target for me to hit, though that didn't give me a whole lot of wiggle room over the back half of the race. Over the next few miles I felt that getting away from me as the heat started taking its toll and each mile crept a little further away from 8:00.
And then I crossed the bridge over the Newton falls, saw the Lower Falls Wine Company and braced myself for what was to come. The Newton hills aren't steep, but they're long enough on a hot day for you to notice. My mind was starting to get a little foggy at the time, but it seemed like the second of the four hills was the toughest physically. I quit looking at my watch and focused on getting left in front of right in front of left. I wasn't charging up the hills but I wasn't walking either, like so many were by now.
After the third hill, there's a flat section before you hit Heartbreak, just to let you think about it a little more. It starts with a small rise, plateaus a little, and then up you go. It's not the hardest hill on the course and it's no harder than anything all but the flattest of flatlanders face in training. But if you're not mentally focused, you'll be left behind.
I guess I kept my mental focus, seeing as I got myself to the top, still without having walked a step. But keeping that focus came at a cost, as once I crested and started coming down the other side, I was completely spent mentally (and nearly so physically). The last 5 miles of the race I was in pure survival mode with absolutely no cognizance of anything going on around me. People say the Boston College kids were exceptionally rowdy, but I don't think I heard a single one. My Garmin said I put together a pretty strong Mile 22, and there's a photo of me smiling and giving a double thumbs-up as I zoom past some poor sap walking along like his wife just left him and took the dog, but I am sure you could not have asked me for my name and gotten the correct answer at that point. I just wanted to finish.
Just past Mile 23 I finally gave in and started walking. I would need another four short walk breaks before the finish. I was a little psychologically whipped because I knew Heartbreak was the last big hill and it was mostly downhill from there, but there were still a few little nuisance bumps here and there that I just didn't have any more strength for. My 8:00 pace was out the window, and eventually my backup goal of 3:40:00 would be gone too. But I knew my time would be far from my worst, and that was enough to get me down Boylston and over the finish line with my arms raised.
WHAT ELSE?
There's so much to say about Boston, but you absolutely must start with the fans. You know going in that the race draws huge numbers of spectators, and indeed, there were hardly any breaks along the roadside from start to finish. But what I hadn't considered was just how dedicated and supportive these folks would be.
Long after the Kenyans had passed through, dozens of families had their garden hoses hooked up to spray runners down, or had tables set up to hand out ice or popsicles or oranges or paper towels, or just stayed out there to cheer us all on. I'm sure the race organizers put on a big (and very well-deserved) party for the volunteers, but what they really need to do is have a bash for all the incredible local supporters who were out there in the hot sun putting us all on their backs. I almost never take unofficial aid, but the couple times I grabbed orange slices were probably brilliant moves on my part to stay upright.
I must also give kudos to Golden Adventures and Diane Golden, through whom I made the arrangements for my accommodations. I stayed at the Park Plaza, about four blocks from the finish line, a block from the Arlington T station and within steps of several restaurants (for carb purposes, there's a Maggiano's across the street). The hotel was packed, but with all those runners, it was plenty quiet. I paid the extra 50 bucks to get an extra hour of sleep and catch a comfortable charter bus at the front door rather than line up for a school bus to take me to Hopkinton. The whole experience was fantastic and I highly recommend that you folks who got into NYC check out Golden Adventures.
Not everything was completely rosy. Last fall I happened to win a "free" ticket on Spirit within days of finding out I made the field. I say "free" because I still had to pay the taxes and fees (80 bucks), plus 35 bucks each way for a carry-on bag (that's Spirit's bit; they advertise ultra-low fares and then nickel-and-dime you until it's not such a great deal anymore). So in the end, it was not that great a deal, and it seemed even less so after my wife pointed out the day before I left that Spirit configures its planes to have the least legroom of anything you'll find in the air today. Let's sum it up thusly: If you don't find other airlines to be spacious and luxurious, then don't even bother with Spirit.
SPLITS?
7:39
7:29
7:26
7:29
7:43
7:39
7:39
7:54
7:48
7:51
7:59
7:55
7:57
7:58
8:14
8:09
8:29
8:36
8:41
9:07
9:19
8:12
8:53
9:59
9:49
10:30
9:04 last .49
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
Boston could give you a wet sack of cat turds and two slaps across the face and you'd still run it. But yes, you do get a sharp-looking long-sleeve tech shirt, a 12x18 poster, a thick race program and a bunch of other goodies. Of course, finishing gets you this:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Big Sur International Marathon, Apr. 29.
By the clock, my time was positively average -- but by the Brookstone combination indoor/outdoor weather station you might give as a Father's Day gift that has both a clock and a thermometer, it was as damn solid a 3:40:46 as I could have come up with.
DID YOU WIN?
I didn't win but I sure did outperform if you go by expectations. One of my goals was to beat my bib number (6835) and I did so easily, placing 4722nd of 21,554 starters -- 3817th of 12,588 men and 2078th of 4329 in my age group.
HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?
To everyone's chagrin, a strong warm front came through New England the day before the race, and we all had to adjust our expectations in the face of record-high temperatures in the upper 80s. I am known to be an awful runner in the heat, which is kind of a disgrace for someone living in Texas. My only goal was to avoid completely embarrassing myself.
I got off the bus in Hopkinton (more on this later) at about 8:45. It was already warm, something like 75 degrees. Runners crammed into any square inch of shade they could find. Two huge white tents were set up in the field behind the high school; I managed to squeeze into a narrow spot of grass and sit while I waited for the call to the corral.
At 9:20 I started to head up the street. I was walking down Grove Street with thousands of other runners in the middle of a ghost town. There was not a speck of activity in or around any of the houses, other than all of us walking on the street between the barricades. It was kind of eerie, really... until it became apparent that all 15,000 residents were already gathered at the starting line.
I entered my corral and found a couple fellow Texans, Erin and Mike, to chat with until the start. I could already feel myself roasting on the asphalt. We heard the elite men being introduced and the anthem being played, and then we were off. I crossed the starting line a little less than 5 minutes after the gun went off.
Even with all the runners lined up in corrals based on qualifying times, the first 2 miles were still plenty congested. Everyone was wisely saving energy, myself included. The opening downhill was just an easy jog, and when things flattened out, I kept going at what felt like a very comfortable pace.
The feel was pretty rural (and crowded) until a little past Mile 3, when we descended into Ashland and things opened up just a little bit. The throngs of residents and the big Adidas "Ashland is All In" sign almost gave me goosebumps on a hot day. It was a scene that would play out again as I moved on to Framingham and Natick. I kept a reasonably steady pace, trying not to feed off the crowds too much but rather just to enjoy all their support. Wherever I could, I low-fived the little kids standing along the road. Some of them were keeping count and bragging to their friends about whose hand had received more slaps.
Of course, nothing to that point would compare to Wellesley. You could hear the girls screaming long before you could see them. I told my wife I would not stop to kiss any of them, and I didn't -- but I definitely lined up along the rail and high-fived as many of them as I could over that 300-yard stretch. Nearly all of them had signs: "Kiss Me I'm an Economist", "Kiss Me I'm Graduating", "Kiss Me I'm From Texas", and my favorite, the simple "I Won't Tell Your Wife".
I crossed the 13.1 mat in 1:42:22, which was probably the first time I started to think about my finish time. I had in mind that an average pace of 8:00 would be an exceptional target for me to hit, though that didn't give me a whole lot of wiggle room over the back half of the race. Over the next few miles I felt that getting away from me as the heat started taking its toll and each mile crept a little further away from 8:00.
And then I crossed the bridge over the Newton falls, saw the Lower Falls Wine Company and braced myself for what was to come. The Newton hills aren't steep, but they're long enough on a hot day for you to notice. My mind was starting to get a little foggy at the time, but it seemed like the second of the four hills was the toughest physically. I quit looking at my watch and focused on getting left in front of right in front of left. I wasn't charging up the hills but I wasn't walking either, like so many were by now.
After the third hill, there's a flat section before you hit Heartbreak, just to let you think about it a little more. It starts with a small rise, plateaus a little, and then up you go. It's not the hardest hill on the course and it's no harder than anything all but the flattest of flatlanders face in training. But if you're not mentally focused, you'll be left behind.
I guess I kept my mental focus, seeing as I got myself to the top, still without having walked a step. But keeping that focus came at a cost, as once I crested and started coming down the other side, I was completely spent mentally (and nearly so physically). The last 5 miles of the race I was in pure survival mode with absolutely no cognizance of anything going on around me. People say the Boston College kids were exceptionally rowdy, but I don't think I heard a single one. My Garmin said I put together a pretty strong Mile 22, and there's a photo of me smiling and giving a double thumbs-up as I zoom past some poor sap walking along like his wife just left him and took the dog, but I am sure you could not have asked me for my name and gotten the correct answer at that point. I just wanted to finish.
Just past Mile 23 I finally gave in and started walking. I would need another four short walk breaks before the finish. I was a little psychologically whipped because I knew Heartbreak was the last big hill and it was mostly downhill from there, but there were still a few little nuisance bumps here and there that I just didn't have any more strength for. My 8:00 pace was out the window, and eventually my backup goal of 3:40:00 would be gone too. But I knew my time would be far from my worst, and that was enough to get me down Boylston and over the finish line with my arms raised.
WHAT ELSE?
There's so much to say about Boston, but you absolutely must start with the fans. You know going in that the race draws huge numbers of spectators, and indeed, there were hardly any breaks along the roadside from start to finish. But what I hadn't considered was just how dedicated and supportive these folks would be.
Long after the Kenyans had passed through, dozens of families had their garden hoses hooked up to spray runners down, or had tables set up to hand out ice or popsicles or oranges or paper towels, or just stayed out there to cheer us all on. I'm sure the race organizers put on a big (and very well-deserved) party for the volunteers, but what they really need to do is have a bash for all the incredible local supporters who were out there in the hot sun putting us all on their backs. I almost never take unofficial aid, but the couple times I grabbed orange slices were probably brilliant moves on my part to stay upright.
I must also give kudos to Golden Adventures and Diane Golden, through whom I made the arrangements for my accommodations. I stayed at the Park Plaza, about four blocks from the finish line, a block from the Arlington T station and within steps of several restaurants (for carb purposes, there's a Maggiano's across the street). The hotel was packed, but with all those runners, it was plenty quiet. I paid the extra 50 bucks to get an extra hour of sleep and catch a comfortable charter bus at the front door rather than line up for a school bus to take me to Hopkinton. The whole experience was fantastic and I highly recommend that you folks who got into NYC check out Golden Adventures.
Not everything was completely rosy. Last fall I happened to win a "free" ticket on Spirit within days of finding out I made the field. I say "free" because I still had to pay the taxes and fees (80 bucks), plus 35 bucks each way for a carry-on bag (that's Spirit's bit; they advertise ultra-low fares and then nickel-and-dime you until it's not such a great deal anymore). So in the end, it was not that great a deal, and it seemed even less so after my wife pointed out the day before I left that Spirit configures its planes to have the least legroom of anything you'll find in the air today. Let's sum it up thusly: If you don't find other airlines to be spacious and luxurious, then don't even bother with Spirit.
SPLITS?
7:39
7:29
7:26
7:29
7:43
7:39
7:39
7:54
7:48
7:51
7:59
7:55
7:57
7:58
8:14
8:09
8:29
8:36
8:41
9:07
9:19
8:12
8:53
9:59
9:49
10:30
9:04 last .49
OK, WHAT ABOUT THE REAL REASON WE ALL RUN, THE STUFF?
Boston could give you a wet sack of cat turds and two slaps across the face and you'd still run it. But yes, you do get a sharp-looking long-sleeve tech shirt, a 12x18 poster, a thick race program and a bunch of other goodies. Of course, finishing gets you this:
WHAT'S NEXT?
Big Sur International Marathon, Apr. 29.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Race preview: Boston Marathon
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
Boston
WHEN?
Monday, Apr. 16
WHY?
Boston Marathon
NO REALLY, WHY?
A few months back, I worked for a fellow runner who was very excited to learn that I had been accepted for Boston. We were standing around chatting with a few other co-workers and one of them asked what the big deal was. Some of us shared a laugh at the seeming ridiculousness of the question, but it was a reminder to me that no matter how important you think something is, it's not everyone's cup of tea.
But yes, it is important. The thing is, I am not an athlete. I'm doughy, I can't do more than about 3 real push-ups at a time, and quite frankly, I probably wouldn't run more than about a dozen miles a week if I thought I could get away with it. I hated running as a kid and never really got on a treadmill until I was 32. I've never been properly fitted for running shoes.
But somewhere along the way, I pieced together enough disappointing races and botched training plans and dehydration and IT band pain to learn some lessons and get better. Getting to this point is not all genetics; my kid ran cross country a couple years back and was the slowest one on the team, by a lot. And it's not all skill; I've never seen myself on video but I can tell you my form is atrocious. Mostly, it's about having a goal and having the drive and plan to reach that goal.
I've seen a lot of self-congratulatory blog posts from folks who never thought they'd make it to Boston, and I guess this is one of them. But I hope this message can be inspirational to the next person who is trying to reach that peak. I put everything I had into training for Tucson in 2010, picking a downhill course especially favored by those trying to qualify -- and I missed by almost 5 minutes. Four weeks later, at First Light, I missed by 31 seconds. If you're going to set goals, you sure as hell aren't going to get that close and then quit. And to the newbie running 5Ks who scoffs at the idea of running marathons: Hey, I know quite a few folks who regularly run marathons and ultras that never thought they'd go longer than a much, much shorter distance. I was one of them. You'll come around.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Greg will be there, having sufficiently healed himself. Erin will be there as well, though with her latest injury I might not be seeing her in my corral, which sucks. And oh, some 26,000-plus other folks will line up, along with half a million spectators or so. It'll be a party.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
It's too early to tell, but the best guess seems to be that it could be better, could be worse. At this point it's looking like cloudy, not windy, maybe some drizzle, with temperatures going from the mid-50s to around 60. But 50 or 70 would not surprise me.
HOW DO WE WIN?
I have goals, but ultimately we win by having a good time. I might not be back for a few years, if ever, so I want to be sure I enjoy this and see and hear all I can. Who wouldn't look forward to the scream tunnel or Heartbreak Hill or the finish in front of the Boston Public Library? However long it takes me to get there, I'll be just fine with. And if I happen to go under 3:10 (if the temps stay down), that would be spectacular.
Boston
WHEN?
Monday, Apr. 16
WHY?
Boston Marathon
NO REALLY, WHY?
A few months back, I worked for a fellow runner who was very excited to learn that I had been accepted for Boston. We were standing around chatting with a few other co-workers and one of them asked what the big deal was. Some of us shared a laugh at the seeming ridiculousness of the question, but it was a reminder to me that no matter how important you think something is, it's not everyone's cup of tea.
But yes, it is important. The thing is, I am not an athlete. I'm doughy, I can't do more than about 3 real push-ups at a time, and quite frankly, I probably wouldn't run more than about a dozen miles a week if I thought I could get away with it. I hated running as a kid and never really got on a treadmill until I was 32. I've never been properly fitted for running shoes.
But somewhere along the way, I pieced together enough disappointing races and botched training plans and dehydration and IT band pain to learn some lessons and get better. Getting to this point is not all genetics; my kid ran cross country a couple years back and was the slowest one on the team, by a lot. And it's not all skill; I've never seen myself on video but I can tell you my form is atrocious. Mostly, it's about having a goal and having the drive and plan to reach that goal.
I've seen a lot of self-congratulatory blog posts from folks who never thought they'd make it to Boston, and I guess this is one of them. But I hope this message can be inspirational to the next person who is trying to reach that peak. I put everything I had into training for Tucson in 2010, picking a downhill course especially favored by those trying to qualify -- and I missed by almost 5 minutes. Four weeks later, at First Light, I missed by 31 seconds. If you're going to set goals, you sure as hell aren't going to get that close and then quit. And to the newbie running 5Ks who scoffs at the idea of running marathons: Hey, I know quite a few folks who regularly run marathons and ultras that never thought they'd go longer than a much, much shorter distance. I was one of them. You'll come around.
WHO ELSE IS GOING?
Greg will be there, having sufficiently healed himself. Erin will be there as well, though with her latest injury I might not be seeing her in my corral, which sucks. And oh, some 26,000-plus other folks will line up, along with half a million spectators or so. It'll be a party.
WHAT'S THE FORECAST?
It's too early to tell, but the best guess seems to be that it could be better, could be worse. At this point it's looking like cloudy, not windy, maybe some drizzle, with temperatures going from the mid-50s to around 60. But 50 or 70 would not surprise me.
HOW DO WE WIN?
I have goals, but ultimately we win by having a good time. I might not be back for a few years, if ever, so I want to be sure I enjoy this and see and hear all I can. Who wouldn't look forward to the scream tunnel or Heartbreak Hill or the finish in front of the Boston Public Library? However long it takes me to get there, I'll be just fine with. And if I happen to go under 3:10 (if the temps stay down), that would be spectacular.
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