Since I started running I have seen virtually all of my running acquaintances deal with some sort of running related injury. Other then a slight bout with a tight IT band when I first started running, that has not been the case for me. Until now. Sometime during my training for the Philly marathon I began having issues with my right foot. This is not all that unusual as I tend to go through some minor aches and pains as my body gets used to the higher mileage. As any stubborn runner will do, I ran through the pain. It didn't really bother me while I was running so I figured get through the race, take some time off, and it will get better. But it hasn't. So yesterday I took a trip to Commonwealth Orthopedic Associates to see what was going on. After a few X-rays, I met with Dr. Tracy Frombach who examined my foot carefully and explained that I have posterior tibial tendonitis and some plantar fasciitis. The latter likely a result of running through the former. I had often through my bigger ankle and the issues I have on the right side were related to my Scoliosis but the resulting leg differential isn't really big enough to cause injuries on its own. She prescribed physical therapy, and at least a month off from running until she sees me again. A month off from running. I haven't gone that long without running since May of 2009. Oh, she also suggested I try Superfeet Green insoles. I had a pair of running shoes along so we put them in there in the office. I could feel an immediate improvement. I actually walked out without limping which was nice.
Today is day 1 of officially not running. Timing-wise this works out because for my geared up triathlon efforts I need to to work on my swim, bike, and strength so those will be the focus over the next month. I will likely add some elliptical in to the mix too. I MUST burn calories. I have been trying to reduce the mini-spare-tire I carry that is particularly evident when wearing triathlon race clothing. But my body grabs onto every calorie and holds it like a precious metal. Today I weighed in over 180 lbs. for the first time in 3 weeks and that is despite very conscientious eating and fairly significant amounts of exercise. (Although little to no running).
So anyway . . . 1 . . only 27 days to go.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Philadelphia Marathon 2012
After my failed attempt to BQ at the 2012 Shamrock marathon, I wanted to do one good, solid marathon before tying a neat bow around marathoning for bit to focus on triathlon. After searching around, I decided the best solution was Philadelphia. After 4 marathons, I had yet to run one in my home state of Pennsylvania so Philadelphia it was. The goal was 3:30 minutes (an 8:00/mile pace) but really I just wanted to run a good solid race with the operative word being RUN. As in run the whole way.
Training started in July and was good, but unremarkable with no injuries or catastrophes. I think I was able to accomplish 98% or more of my planned miles & workouts. Fast forward to the weekend of November 17th & 18th. Race weekend.
Saturday found Janice and I in the car and Philly-bound for the expo & packet pick-up. Over the years I have to come to rely heavily on my online social network for advice, support and commiseration for all things running. I have the best group of friends anyone could ever want. Problem is I haven't actually met most of them in person. That changed slightly at the Philly expo. After going through packet pick-up I met up with Neal Fox & Judy Lynch whom I go way back with on the Runner's World Masters forums and now the Facebook Running Warriours group. We met up and it was as if we had known each other for years. Neal said it best when he pointed out he hasn't met anyone from the forums that weren't exactly what he expected. I think that speaks volumes for social media. While it may not be a traditional way to get to know people I know more about Neal and Judy from on-line then I do about some of my daily acquaintances. We enjoyed a gabby lunch together at McGillen's Alehouse on Drury Street with each of us spewing out racing, running and tri stuff while my poor wife Janice sat and listened. All too soon it was time to go our separate ways and get ready for racing the next day.
After a few minutes of navigation errors where I probably yelled at my wife more then I should have, we made our way back out of the city and headed home. A light pasta dinner preceded an early bedtime.
I was awake when the alarm went off at 4:20 but slept extremely well. I was surprised how cold it was when I got in the car. I had to scrape the windows and the thermometer read 29 degrees. Hmm. I hoped the shorts and t-shirt with arm warmers and gloves would be adequate. I grabbed a bagel and some coffee from Wawa an retraced my steps to Philadelphia. It is about 50 minutes to an hour from Reading. Apparently others were planning on running the marathon too because traffic ground to a halt on the Schuylkyll Expressway right at 676 which is the main route into downtown. It wasn't even 6:00 so no worries. I managed to get into the city but quickly abandoned plans of looping around closer to the start as hundreds of racers were walking from South of the Vine St. expressway. I exited at Broad Street, turned on Arch and pulled into the first garage I came too. Parking was available on the 6th floor. The elevator was broken but no biggie. I was going to run 26.2 miles. A few flights of steps wouldn't bother me. (Hindsight is always 20/20 isn't it?) One smart thing I did was notice that as I crossed over the race route, there were a couple dozen porta potties set up on a corner. This was a 3/4 of a mile from the start and nobody was there waiting for them so I detoured a couple blocks out of the way and used the john before heading North for the Eakins oval and the start. Oh, and no worries on the temperature. I watched them climb as I came down the expressway until it was at 39 in downtown Philly with no wind. Perfect.
Pre-race is one of my favorite times. This was my 5th and, by far, largest marathon. Walking to the start among all the runners was exciting and exhilarating. There was lively chatter in the air as friends talked among themselves about race wether, the start, and the day. Some shivered in the cold others nodded knowingly at each other that the weather was perfect.
Once at the start I donned by race belt preloaded with gels, stuck my sunglasses on my hat, got rid of the sweatshirt I planned to drop (but didn't really need at this point) and checked my bag. The bag check was very efficient with dozens of UPS trucks each taking a few names alphabetically. I arrived at the green corral a few minutes before the start. It must have been a popular corral. I was actually outside the rail with a couple dozen others and had to wait until the field moved toward the start to get on the course proper.
The lead group went off at about 7:03. For the next 10-15 minutes we shuffled toward the starting line listening to each corral go. There were two added corrals in front of us. In a VERY classy move, the marathon had opened up 3000 extra slots for runners displaced from the cancelled NY marathon. About 1500 runners had scooped these up at the cost of $200.00/each. $100.00 of which was donated to the Red Cross for hurricane relief. The New York runners all had special orange shirts. While I'm not from Philadelphia, I was very proud of the fans along the course as they called out to and welcomed the New York runners.
Finally, we reached the start and were sent on our way down the Benjamin Franklin Parkway to the cheers of the crowd. Let me say here and now that I thought the crowd support at Shamrock would be tough to beat but Philly tops any race I have been in. All but a few miles were filled with folks along the streets from all walks of life yelling and cheering. People blowing whistles and vuvuzelas, horns, calling out by name. Little kids were delighted with a high-five.
As I said my race goal had been 3:30 with a strong run as a second goal. My hope had been to run even 8:00 min/mile splits. It is an easy pace for me that I can hold for a long time. It became apparent quickly that that was going to be difficult. With 30,000 runners the course was extremely crowded. In hindsight, I should have bumped my estimated time a hair to get into the next corral. The end of the green corral was 4:00 and it quickly became apparent that there were people with no intention of completing the race in 4:00 hours (or the half-marathon equivalent). Within 3 miles there were people walking. This REALLY clogged up an already crowded race course. I quickly found myself hemorrhaging speed and energy trying to dodge slower runners. On paper the splits weren't that slow: 8:10, 8:10, 8:16, 8:08, 8:09, 8:16 . . but over the miles the deficit was increasing. I almost took a tumble at mile 4 when some guy came pushing his way up from behind and we tangled feet. Other then that runners were considerate but the crowd made going at a faster pace impossible. Chestnut Street was especially difficult though the fantastic crowd along it made it very worthwhile. I was also not running anything like a tangent which the Garmin vs. the mile markers quickly showed. The first 5-7 miles was a lot of weaving, dodging, and trying to make up time where I could. The fortunate thing was I carried a water bottle so was able to pick up the pace a little bit past the water stations where everyone stopped. The first water station was shear chaos and I was glad not to be involved.
1: 8:10.9
2. 8:10.1
3: 8:16.0
4: 8:08.3
5: 8:09.3
6: 8:16.2
7:7:52.2
Despite the crowd and a slightly slower pace then I planned, I was really having fun. I made the decision to bag the iPod and enjoy the sights & sounds of the race. It was so fun to hear people calling your name and the out right lies they tell you like "Looking Good"!
At some point before mile 8 we crossed Lombard Street just a few blocks from my Best Man Dave Wiedner's former residence. He now has a guest house in Puerto Rico but I found, to my delight, an e-mail from him upon my return home congratulating me on my race.
I would never have guessed that a marathon in Philly could be as scenic as it was. For my part, I do my best to stay out of Philadelphia (or any city) as much as I can but the marathon course was easily the most interesting I have done with constant scenery changes and famous landmarks.
8: 8:17.7
9: 7:48.2 (big downhill)
10: 8:06.9
11: 58.8
12: 754.8
13: 8:00.4
You can tell by the splits above I was trying to pull in some of the lost time from the first few miles. It got a little difficult because with the highway structures, walls, and trees, the Garmin lost signal quite a bit. I tried to ignore it and just run off feeling. I was hoping to get back to an 8:00 min/mile average and then just hang at 8:00 but never quite made it back.
Life got a little easier at the split where the half-marathoners turned off. Crowd support picked up near the art museum and the course had great markings for half & full marathoners. I was surprised though how few folks peeled off for the half finish. Once we passed the half finish, we turned North along the river toward Manayunk. This was the most scenic part of the course but had the lightest crowd support so you had to dig deep and motivate yourself. I had my Endurance Multisport shirt on and heard someone call out and saw Craig Durant (aka The Big Truck) with his hand out for a high-five. I also spotted my running friend and co-worker Larry Filtz manning the water stop at mile 15. Larry and I ran together nearly every Monday and Thursday before work since July.
14: 8:06.2
15: 8:10.6
16: 8:05.9
Oh . . there were also hills. Much bigger and more frequent hills then I expected. Okay they weren't ski slopes but they were long, steady pace-killing grades. Somewhere in here I decided I really needed a bathroom. I wasn't concerned about this since I had the sneaking suspicion I wouldn't be seeing 3:30 and a bathroom stop would surely kill any such hopes. Still, better to stop and go then run uncomfortably for the last 9 miles. There were porta pottis without a wait sometime shortly before mile 17 and the odd little stub the course takes out over the Falls Creek bridge.
18: 8:50.1
19: 8:32.9
20: 8:45.8
You can see the effect the hills of Manayunk have. It is important to note that my 20 oz. water bottle was empty and disposed of by mile 14 or so. I have never learned any method of using a water stop that works for me other then walking it so that was the plan once the bottle was kicked. If I try to drink and run I lose more time choking then just walking through the stop.
We also turned on Main St. in Manayunk right around the 20 mile mark. At this point my brain had a consult with my legs politely asking them to pick things up a bit. After thorough deliberation my legs replied that we should all just be happy they were still willing to run and this was as good as it's gonna get. Okay then.
As hard as the marathon gets over 20 miles, to me it is the most fun. I just love watching the miles tick off. All the early mornings and hard work are worth it at this point when you know you are going to make it happen. I wasn't able to hold the 8:00 pace I'd hoped for buy I had long ago decided I was NOT walking. I started focusing on getting to the next mile marker and the next water stop. My mind and body felt good but my legs were very heavy and beginning to get even more unresponsive to requests for speed. I planned to let the chips fall where they may and just finish running.
21: 8:44.1
22: 9:06.6
23: 9:25.2
24. 9:04.0
I saw Larry again at mile 23. He patted me on the shoulder and encouraged me with "Hang in there". It's nice to get a positive note along the way. Somewhere in here I also spotted Craig & Erica Sheckler the founders of Endurance Multisport. They called to me and waved and I secretly hoped I wasn't embarrassing their fine club.
While it may not look like it in the pictures I was really having fun at this point. I had noted mile 25 as I headed North toward Manayunk and was looking forward to seeing it again and then I was there. Come on legs . . just a little more.
25: 9:36.1
I must assume that there was some measuring error for the last mile. There is no way it was only a mile. I talked my legs into one final effort and managed to speed up a bit promising "Only a mile to go". About 3 miles later they started to protest again as the 26 mile marker, let alone the finish was still nowhere to be seen. I started assuming Philadelphia needed more room for spectators so they must have added a couple miles to the end. And there were spectators. Lots and lots of spectators cheering really hard and loud. Even my legs took notice and picked it up a bit.
26: 9:03.04
Will someone explain to me why after 26 miles does .2 seem SO LONG!? Good grief I didn't think I'd ever find the finish. But sure enough suddenly there it was with Mayor Michael Nutter right in the middle high-fiving all the finishers. My Garmin shows a final lap of 4:31but it shows a total distance of 26.52 due to not running tangents so that isn't all that useful. The funny thing is I had e-mails setup to track several friends but not myself. It wasn't until I got home that I was able to contact someone who had been tracking me to get my official time. Oops.
26.2: 3:44:51.
Not the 3:30 I was looking for . . but absolutely acceptable given the nature of the course and the crowd. Also, this was easily the best and most fun marathon I've done. But of course, the fun begins when you cross the finish line. My legs clearly did not have input on our choice of parking spot . . 9 blocks away. Heck they barely wanted to get down the finish chute.
I got my mylar blanket, finishers medal, and a bottle of water. I skipped the food line. I am never really hungry after a race. Bag pick-up was every bit as easy as drop off and in minutes I was in the changing tent attempting to change into dry, warm clothes. If Philly had a failing it was only having 6 or so chairs in the changing tent. Clearly it was setup by someone who has never had to try to change after running a marathon. But changing was accomplished and I started the long, slow walk back to the car.
Remember the broken elevator? The badness of that became vividly clear at this point. Oh . . and it is one of those attendant-less garages. You pay at the kiosk before leaving. The kiosk is on the first floor. My car, parking ticket, and wallet were on the 6th floor. Up the steps. (Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.) Down the steps. (Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.) And back up the steps. (Ouch . . well you get the idea.)
Fortunately, traffic was light leaving town. It was interesting to be on the Schuylkyll Expressway and be able to look across the river and still see runners on the marathon course. I stopped in Oaks for coffee at Wawa. Unlike Philadelphia when you were walking funny and they knew you had run the marathon, the people at Wawa in Oaks had no idea. They just stayed away from me.
Finally, I saw a couple interesting things. There were several signs that tickled my funny bone though I can only remember two at the moment.
"Go! Total Stranger go!"
And the one held by the college co-ed that read "You have stamina! Call me!"
I was also more then slightly impressed by the dude running a sub-3 hour pace wearing a full tuxedo.
Well, if you've stayed with me this long, thanks for reading and
thanks for your support. Onward to become a better, faster triathlete in 2013!
Training started in July and was good, but unremarkable with no injuries or catastrophes. I think I was able to accomplish 98% or more of my planned miles & workouts. Fast forward to the weekend of November 17th & 18th. Race weekend.
Saturday found Janice and I in the car and Philly-bound for the expo & packet pick-up. Over the years I have to come to rely heavily on my online social network for advice, support and commiseration for all things running. I have the best group of friends anyone could ever want. Problem is I haven't actually met most of them in person. That changed slightly at the Philly expo. After going through packet pick-up I met up with Neal Fox & Judy Lynch whom I go way back with on the Runner's World Masters forums and now the Facebook Running Warriours group. We met up and it was as if we had known each other for years. Neal said it best when he pointed out he hasn't met anyone from the forums that weren't exactly what he expected. I think that speaks volumes for social media. While it may not be a traditional way to get to know people I know more about Neal and Judy from on-line then I do about some of my daily acquaintances. We enjoyed a gabby lunch together at McGillen's Alehouse on Drury Street with each of us spewing out racing, running and tri stuff while my poor wife Janice sat and listened. All too soon it was time to go our separate ways and get ready for racing the next day.
After a few minutes of navigation errors where I probably yelled at my wife more then I should have, we made our way back out of the city and headed home. A light pasta dinner preceded an early bedtime.
I was awake when the alarm went off at 4:20 but slept extremely well. I was surprised how cold it was when I got in the car. I had to scrape the windows and the thermometer read 29 degrees. Hmm. I hoped the shorts and t-shirt with arm warmers and gloves would be adequate. I grabbed a bagel and some coffee from Wawa an retraced my steps to Philadelphia. It is about 50 minutes to an hour from Reading. Apparently others were planning on running the marathon too because traffic ground to a halt on the Schuylkyll Expressway right at 676 which is the main route into downtown. It wasn't even 6:00 so no worries. I managed to get into the city but quickly abandoned plans of looping around closer to the start as hundreds of racers were walking from South of the Vine St. expressway. I exited at Broad Street, turned on Arch and pulled into the first garage I came too. Parking was available on the 6th floor. The elevator was broken but no biggie. I was going to run 26.2 miles. A few flights of steps wouldn't bother me. (Hindsight is always 20/20 isn't it?) One smart thing I did was notice that as I crossed over the race route, there were a couple dozen porta potties set up on a corner. This was a 3/4 of a mile from the start and nobody was there waiting for them so I detoured a couple blocks out of the way and used the john before heading North for the Eakins oval and the start. Oh, and no worries on the temperature. I watched them climb as I came down the expressway until it was at 39 in downtown Philly with no wind. Perfect.
Pre-race is one of my favorite times. This was my 5th and, by far, largest marathon. Walking to the start among all the runners was exciting and exhilarating. There was lively chatter in the air as friends talked among themselves about race wether, the start, and the day. Some shivered in the cold others nodded knowingly at each other that the weather was perfect.
Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xX-argBjsyo
Once at the start I donned by race belt preloaded with gels, stuck my sunglasses on my hat, got rid of the sweatshirt I planned to drop (but didn't really need at this point) and checked my bag. The bag check was very efficient with dozens of UPS trucks each taking a few names alphabetically. I arrived at the green corral a few minutes before the start. It must have been a popular corral. I was actually outside the rail with a couple dozen others and had to wait until the field moved toward the start to get on the course proper.
The lead group went off at about 7:03. For the next 10-15 minutes we shuffled toward the starting line listening to each corral go. There were two added corrals in front of us. In a VERY classy move, the marathon had opened up 3000 extra slots for runners displaced from the cancelled NY marathon. About 1500 runners had scooped these up at the cost of $200.00/each. $100.00 of which was donated to the Red Cross for hurricane relief. The New York runners all had special orange shirts. While I'm not from Philadelphia, I was very proud of the fans along the course as they called out to and welcomed the New York runners.
Finally, we reached the start and were sent on our way down the Benjamin Franklin Parkway to the cheers of the crowd. Let me say here and now that I thought the crowd support at Shamrock would be tough to beat but Philly tops any race I have been in. All but a few miles were filled with folks along the streets from all walks of life yelling and cheering. People blowing whistles and vuvuzelas, horns, calling out by name. Little kids were delighted with a high-five.
As I said my race goal had been 3:30 with a strong run as a second goal. My hope had been to run even 8:00 min/mile splits. It is an easy pace for me that I can hold for a long time. It became apparent quickly that that was going to be difficult. With 30,000 runners the course was extremely crowded. In hindsight, I should have bumped my estimated time a hair to get into the next corral. The end of the green corral was 4:00 and it quickly became apparent that there were people with no intention of completing the race in 4:00 hours (or the half-marathon equivalent). Within 3 miles there were people walking. This REALLY clogged up an already crowded race course. I quickly found myself hemorrhaging speed and energy trying to dodge slower runners. On paper the splits weren't that slow: 8:10, 8:10, 8:16, 8:08, 8:09, 8:16 . . but over the miles the deficit was increasing. I almost took a tumble at mile 4 when some guy came pushing his way up from behind and we tangled feet. Other then that runners were considerate but the crowd made going at a faster pace impossible. Chestnut Street was especially difficult though the fantastic crowd along it made it very worthwhile. I was also not running anything like a tangent which the Garmin vs. the mile markers quickly showed. The first 5-7 miles was a lot of weaving, dodging, and trying to make up time where I could. The fortunate thing was I carried a water bottle so was able to pick up the pace a little bit past the water stations where everyone stopped. The first water station was shear chaos and I was glad not to be involved.
1: 8:10.9
2. 8:10.1
3: 8:16.0
4: 8:08.3
5: 8:09.3
6: 8:16.2
7:7:52.2
Despite the crowd and a slightly slower pace then I planned, I was really having fun. I made the decision to bag the iPod and enjoy the sights & sounds of the race. It was so fun to hear people calling your name and the out right lies they tell you like "Looking Good"!
At some point before mile 8 we crossed Lombard Street just a few blocks from my Best Man Dave Wiedner's former residence. He now has a guest house in Puerto Rico but I found, to my delight, an e-mail from him upon my return home congratulating me on my race.
I would never have guessed that a marathon in Philly could be as scenic as it was. For my part, I do my best to stay out of Philadelphia (or any city) as much as I can but the marathon course was easily the most interesting I have done with constant scenery changes and famous landmarks.
8: 8:17.7
9: 7:48.2 (big downhill)
10: 8:06.9
11: 58.8
12: 754.8
13: 8:00.4
You can tell by the splits above I was trying to pull in some of the lost time from the first few miles. It got a little difficult because with the highway structures, walls, and trees, the Garmin lost signal quite a bit. I tried to ignore it and just run off feeling. I was hoping to get back to an 8:00 min/mile average and then just hang at 8:00 but never quite made it back.
Life got a little easier at the split where the half-marathoners turned off. Crowd support picked up near the art museum and the course had great markings for half & full marathoners. I was surprised though how few folks peeled off for the half finish. Once we passed the half finish, we turned North along the river toward Manayunk. This was the most scenic part of the course but had the lightest crowd support so you had to dig deep and motivate yourself. I had my Endurance Multisport shirt on and heard someone call out and saw Craig Durant (aka The Big Truck) with his hand out for a high-five. I also spotted my running friend and co-worker Larry Filtz manning the water stop at mile 15. Larry and I ran together nearly every Monday and Thursday before work since July.
14: 8:06.2
15: 8:10.6
16: 8:05.9
Oh . . there were also hills. Much bigger and more frequent hills then I expected. Okay they weren't ski slopes but they were long, steady pace-killing grades. Somewhere in here I decided I really needed a bathroom. I wasn't concerned about this since I had the sneaking suspicion I wouldn't be seeing 3:30 and a bathroom stop would surely kill any such hopes. Still, better to stop and go then run uncomfortably for the last 9 miles. There were porta pottis without a wait sometime shortly before mile 17 and the odd little stub the course takes out over the Falls Creek bridge.
18: 8:50.1
19: 8:32.9
20: 8:45.8
You can see the effect the hills of Manayunk have. It is important to note that my 20 oz. water bottle was empty and disposed of by mile 14 or so. I have never learned any method of using a water stop that works for me other then walking it so that was the plan once the bottle was kicked. If I try to drink and run I lose more time choking then just walking through the stop.
We also turned on Main St. in Manayunk right around the 20 mile mark. At this point my brain had a consult with my legs politely asking them to pick things up a bit. After thorough deliberation my legs replied that we should all just be happy they were still willing to run and this was as good as it's gonna get. Okay then.
As hard as the marathon gets over 20 miles, to me it is the most fun. I just love watching the miles tick off. All the early mornings and hard work are worth it at this point when you know you are going to make it happen. I wasn't able to hold the 8:00 pace I'd hoped for buy I had long ago decided I was NOT walking. I started focusing on getting to the next mile marker and the next water stop. My mind and body felt good but my legs were very heavy and beginning to get even more unresponsive to requests for speed. I planned to let the chips fall where they may and just finish running.
21: 8:44.1
22: 9:06.6
23: 9:25.2
24. 9:04.0
I saw Larry again at mile 23. He patted me on the shoulder and encouraged me with "Hang in there". It's nice to get a positive note along the way. Somewhere in here I also spotted Craig & Erica Sheckler the founders of Endurance Multisport. They called to me and waved and I secretly hoped I wasn't embarrassing their fine club.
While it may not look like it in the pictures I was really having fun at this point. I had noted mile 25 as I headed North toward Manayunk and was looking forward to seeing it again and then I was there. Come on legs . . just a little more.
25: 9:36.1
I must assume that there was some measuring error for the last mile. There is no way it was only a mile. I talked my legs into one final effort and managed to speed up a bit promising "Only a mile to go". About 3 miles later they started to protest again as the 26 mile marker, let alone the finish was still nowhere to be seen. I started assuming Philadelphia needed more room for spectators so they must have added a couple miles to the end. And there were spectators. Lots and lots of spectators cheering really hard and loud. Even my legs took notice and picked it up a bit.
26: 9:03.04
Will someone explain to me why after 26 miles does .2 seem SO LONG!? Good grief I didn't think I'd ever find the finish. But sure enough suddenly there it was with Mayor Michael Nutter right in the middle high-fiving all the finishers. My Garmin shows a final lap of 4:31but it shows a total distance of 26.52 due to not running tangents so that isn't all that useful. The funny thing is I had e-mails setup to track several friends but not myself. It wasn't until I got home that I was able to contact someone who had been tracking me to get my official time. Oops.
26.2: 3:44:51.
Not the 3:30 I was looking for . . but absolutely acceptable given the nature of the course and the crowd. Also, this was easily the best and most fun marathon I've done. But of course, the fun begins when you cross the finish line. My legs clearly did not have input on our choice of parking spot . . 9 blocks away. Heck they barely wanted to get down the finish chute.
I got my mylar blanket, finishers medal, and a bottle of water. I skipped the food line. I am never really hungry after a race. Bag pick-up was every bit as easy as drop off and in minutes I was in the changing tent attempting to change into dry, warm clothes. If Philly had a failing it was only having 6 or so chairs in the changing tent. Clearly it was setup by someone who has never had to try to change after running a marathon. But changing was accomplished and I started the long, slow walk back to the car.
Remember the broken elevator? The badness of that became vividly clear at this point. Oh . . and it is one of those attendant-less garages. You pay at the kiosk before leaving. The kiosk is on the first floor. My car, parking ticket, and wallet were on the 6th floor. Up the steps. (Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.) Down the steps. (Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.) And back up the steps. (Ouch . . well you get the idea.)
Fortunately, traffic was light leaving town. It was interesting to be on the Schuylkyll Expressway and be able to look across the river and still see runners on the marathon course. I stopped in Oaks for coffee at Wawa. Unlike Philadelphia when you were walking funny and they knew you had run the marathon, the people at Wawa in Oaks had no idea. They just stayed away from me.
Finally, I saw a couple interesting things. There were several signs that tickled my funny bone though I can only remember two at the moment.
"Go! Total Stranger go!"
And the one held by the college co-ed that read "You have stamina! Call me!"
I was also more then slightly impressed by the dude running a sub-3 hour pace wearing a full tuxedo.
Well, if you've stayed with me this long, thanks for reading and
thanks for your support. Onward to become a better, faster triathlete in 2013!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Keystone State Triathlon - Gifford Pinchot State Park
The 2012 Keystone State Triathlon marked my 7th
career triathlon, and last of the season. Despite having completed 2 longer
races, this would be my first attempt at the Olympic distance. I almost did
this race last year but, being a new rider, was kind of scared off by the hilly
course. The Keystone State Tri is held at Gifford
Pinchot State
Park near Lewisberry, PA in York
County. This is our very
favorite PA State Park for camping and we have been there numerous times but
not yet for the triathlon.
From a training perspective, my riding has included a lot of
hills. On all my rides, if there was a hill I rode up it. Funny how hills get
smaller as the season goes on. We regularly ride a road called Moravian School
road in Oley Township. In April, it seemed like a
monstrous climb. The last couple times up after a summer of riding, it didn’t
seem so bad. I felt like I was ready for the Keystone State Tri.
Race weekend found Janice and I camped in a great site at
the State Park enjoying an evening campfire. Saturday morning, I walked along
the trail we would later run to watch the Super Sprint Tri, and Duathlon. In
hindsight, the smart thing would have been to a) pay closer attention to the
trail b) wear my swim gear and swim in the lake after the Super Sprint was
over. The Super Sprint was only 41 people but it gave me the opportunity to
check out the logistics of transition.
Race day dawned early for Janice and I. With our little
motorhome, we wanted to be sure we got a good parking spot at the race location
and, since transition was first-come-first-served for a spot, I wanted to
ensure a good spot there too. We were one of the first few vehicles in the
parking lot so I fired up the generator and toasted my bagel and made a cup of
coffee. I kept one eye peeled out the window. As soon as I saw the first bike
headed for transition I left the uneaten portion of my bagel on the table and
dashed off for transition.
With a prime end spot in transition claimed, I returned to
breakfast and watched car after car pull in. Oddly, all the people that parked
around me were part of my Endurance Multisport club. Almost immediately I met Leslie
Billowitch and her friend Dianne Andresen. We tracked each other down with our
EnMu shirts. Leslie was in need of some tire inflation and I was happy to help.
In short order, it was time to get body marked, don swim
caps and goggles and head for the water. Olympic men (including Yours Truly)
were the first to go. The water was 80 degrees and not wetsuit legal. The
Olympic distance involved 2 laps around 5 buoys. No problem. I’ve done a
half-ironman. This should be easy. Right? Hmmm. Maybe not. It occurred to me as
I entered the lake that this was the first time I had actually LOOKED at the
swim course. “Where are the buoys? Gosh that one to the left seems awfully far
away? Did they measure right? Do we go around all these? Twice!? Okay Pete,
calm down”. I felt I better take a quick warm-up paddle (a little late for
this). I waded out and dove into the surprisingly cool water and noticed
immediately it was all kinds of dirty and you couldn’t see even a couple
inches. Ugh. I made sure my goggles were sealed and got ready to race. 30
seconds to go. 10 seconds. BEEEEEPPPPP! Go!
I dove in and began swimming. I was toward the front of the
pack and immediately got swept up into the speed of those swimming around me.
Paddling hard, kicking hard, and breathing hard. My heart rate raced. The
occasional leg and arm swatted me and half my breaths wound up with a mouthful
of water. “Oh my God. Why did you sign up for this again”!? I paddled on. “I
can’t do this”. Shit. Here we go again. I was badly out of my race pace and
quickly failing. I needed to calm down. I alternated between freestyle, back
stroke and stopping trying to find some free water to swim in. I let the faster
swimmers go. Finally I started paddling again. “Come on just get to the first
buoy”. Through brute force I made my way to the first buoy and went around it.
This was getting to be an all-to-familiar theme. I lined up the second buoy
with a distinctive tree top and kept paddling. I was still in panic mode and my
heart rate was through the roof. I still wasn’t sure what I would do when I got
around to the start of the second lap. I backstroked a bit more to try to stare
at the sky and calm myself down. I flipped over and began focusing on buoy #2.
Before long, I was there. My breathing had calmed and I was in a more relaxed,
regular stroke. Of course I had already sacrificed minutes to my age group
companions. The remainder of the swim was fine. I swam 1 ½ laps with a calm,
relaxed (if not slower then average) stroke. But there was not thought of
quitting as I got near shore and the end of the first lap.
Near the end of the second lap (having long since started
being passed by the Olympic women and probably the faster sprint swimmers) it
suddenly occurred to me that it was raining. I had the ridiculous thought that
I would be wet on the bike. Forget the fact that I was jumping on to the bike
right from the lake. Of COURSE I would be wet on the bike.
Swim Time: 36:26
As I left the water I heard my loving spouse standing in the
rain shouting encouragement. I found her and said something foolish to the
camera she was holding on the way by. I dashed into transition grabbed helmet,
glasses, and riding shoes, un-racked the bike and took off for bike out.
T1: 1:20
I climbed out of the transition area and on to the main road
and was greeted immediately by one of the bigger downhill sections of the ride.
I tucked down and rolled. As the course description said, “Don’t get too
comfortable”. We made a right turn onto East Camping Area Road and went
immediately hard uphill. I had run this course on a hot day the year before and
was reduced to a walk on this section. But I was prepared and had dropped my 3
ring road bike down to my little ring and pumped my way up the hill passing a
lot of folks walking their bikes. There was one other big hill later on the 9
mile loop and overall the bike course seemed more gradually uphill then down,
but top speeds did reach into the low 40s on the biggest downhill. The
surprising thing is that the hard rain for the first 2 of 3 laps really didn’t
phase me a bit. There was only one sharp turn and that would have required
slowing down regardless of rain. 3 laps and 27 miles later, I turned back into
the day use parking lot and toward bike in.
Bike: 1:38:36
My slow swim had left me ridiculously far behind so
transition was not crowded. T2 went well also, and I was off in the run in good
shape.
T2: 1:02
The run took my by surprise. I’m not sure why. As mentioned
we have been to this park a dozen times and I’ve walked the Lakeside Trail at
least once every time I’ve been there. The description was that of a run on the
shaded trails through the park. Mostly crushed stone and gravel. They sort of
left out the ruts, roots and narrowness as the Olympic and Sprint distance
triathletes competed for space. Trying to pass was a gamble at best on parts of
the trail and dangerous at worst. There was also the ever-present risk of
rolling an ankle or colliding with a returning runner on the 2-loop course.
We stayed on the lakeside trail all the way around the edge
of the lake until we reached the campground and then turned off on other trails
that would ultimately lead up through the woods. The highlight, or lowlight was
the sign that read “Warning: Steep Grade Ahead”. ‘Cause that is what you want to see on the run in the middle of your race.
There were people walking up the hill most of who were occupying the only
“clean” section of the trail. The other half of the trail was ruts & rocks.
I was slowed to a stop by a bit of a crowd until a young woman nimbly hopped
over the rut and up the trail to my left politely skirting around the walkers.
I followed. It was at this point I realized I wouldn’t be making up huge
quantities of time on the run and decided to run with a bit of caution and not
jeopardize my fall marathon training with a twisted ankle. This almost failed
near the end of lap two and the conclusion of my race when, after waiting
through a patch of mud, my foot landed squarely on a hidden root and I felt my
foot start to roll. I quickly relaxed and went with the roll so as not to cause
damage. No harm no foul.
A half-mile later I crossed the Finish line in a meek
3:06:04. Not quite what I had hoped for but in retrospect, I would classify
this as a fairly difficult race. Training-wise, I was prepared though perhaps
not for the fairly technical trail run. A trail runner I am not.
After catching up with my faithful spouse who waits through
anything to see me finish, I grabbed a bite to eat and then headed back for the
motorhome to get out of wet race gear and get a hot shower. Yes, the motorhome
WILL be making future races with me. That was one of the best showers I have
ever had.
Post-race, I caught up with Leslie, Dianne, and another
fellow EnMu member Ryan Sell. It seemed everyone enjoyed their race despite the
rain. I enjoyed my race too though still fairly annoyed with my poor swim start
and mental panic again. That has got to change. Much swim work is required this
winter.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Eagleman Half-Ironman
Through the thin latex membrane of my purple swim cap Iheard the announcer say “One minute to go”! Three seconds later the air horn sounded. “Go, go that’s you”! It was an inauspicious start to my first attempt at a rather intimidating Half-Ironman triathlon distance. That is a 1.2 mile swim, followed by a 56 mile bike ride, and then a half-marathon or 13.1 miles. A few years ago, I would likely have erupted in fits of laughter had anyone suggested I’d be trying to do this one day. Heck, I had been an over-weight couch potato IT professional spending most of my free time in front of a television with a bag of Combos.
But here I was, and frankly I was pretty excited. In past triathlons, the water was always scary. Twice in my first 4 races I’d dealt with severe bouts of panic in the water on much shorter swims. But experience and the sound advice of good friends had gotten me in the water the day before and removed the element of the unknown. Good providence played a role in keeping the water temperature low enough to allow the use of a wetsuit and the confidence and speed it provides. USAT rules draw the line for wetsuit use at 76.1.
Off we went into the green sea. We were a group of age 45+ gentleman all with our purple caps hoping to get through the swim and take our shot at the bike and run in the searing heat of early summer in Maryland. As the announcer stated on an earlier swim wave, it is clear where the Choptank river gets its name.
For accommodations, we had a choice between a $300.00/night hotel room or $30.00 for the weekend camping at the local High School. (Hint:See picture) Since we have a small RV with its own generator and electricity the choice was easy but there really was plenty of shade there to set up a tent. Friday night we did little more then have dinner and go to bed.
Saturday morning I met John and Paul who were also camped at the school also of similar “vintage” to me, and were also doing their first 70.3 distance Tri. After discussing how crazy it would be to do a full Ironman and how it isn't crazy to do a half in 93 degree heat, we were on our bikes together and headed for the water for a swim. We swam a few hundred yards and then checked out the swim exit. It turns out given the right tide you could probably almost walk the last half-mile if you were so inclined. Then we hopped back on the bikes and headed for the school.
Later Saturday, Janice and I headed for the expo where I got my race packet including a nice gym bag and Eagleman shirt and then rubbed elbows with the pros for a bit.
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| Left to Right: Craig "Crowie" Alexander, TJ Tollakson, Marinda "Rinny" Carfrae, Meredith Kessler |
At one point, I surveyed the scene and wondered how many hundreds of thousands in dollars of bikes were there.
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| Left set of racks |
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| Right set of racks |
After a breakfast of peanut butter and bagel I headed for transition via the parking shuttle with everything in my running bag except a running hat. I always have a hat in the RV. Always. Not today. I SWORE it had been in my bag. Not to be found. I was reconciled to running with a plain old cotton ball cap that would weigh about a pound before the day was over. However, I
bumped into Denise and our good friend (and kick-ass triathlete) Susanne Vanzijl. Susanne had a visor to loan me. Not ideal with my baldhead but better then running in a regular ball cap.She handed me the visor and told me it was payback for the bug spray I loaned her at Devilman.
I had my T area setup a couple hours beforemy start so there was much milling about until my start time came. Denise, Mark and I watched, mouth-agape as the pros blistered the swim course. There was also one gentleman pulling a disabled person in a rubber boat. Very inspirational. But I didn’t come here to watch others race, I was ready to go!
Off to transition and on to the bike. Yes . . I sat down in transition to put my bike shoes on. I know its not the cool, professional triathlete way to do it . . but I’m a professional Scrum Master, not a professional triathlete. So there. T1 Time: 2:59.
Back to the swim: After the abrupt gun to get our group started I resisted the urge to break into a water going sprint and kept my pace true and steady. Unlike Devilman, my breathing was regular and consistent. Myline was true and I covered the distance from each buoy one at a time without any weaving back and forth. I even drafted when given the opportunity. I thought about how hot it would be later that day and how enjoyable the cool water was. I decided I could swim 2.4 miles someday. But not today. My hope had been to clear the water in 50-55 minutes. I popped out, to my personal amazement, in 40:27.
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| Pete exiting the swim in 40:27. |
The bike was fun, flat, and fast. At mile 15 we passed a produce stand with a sign that said “Triathlete Specials” and “Fresh Strawberries”. They could have left the word “fresh” off as the wind was wafting across the strawberry bushes carrying a delightful aroma of fresh fruit. By mile 30 I was wishing for a hill. I was having some lower back discomfort and trying to stretch every so often. The issues weren’t as severe as devilman but definitely there. Somewhere I caught up with Denise and we traded spots and talked and laughed for a good bit of the ride, being careful not to get caught drafting at our blistering 18mph pace. We rode over half the ride within sight of each other. In the middle of the Black Water National Wildlife Refuge, there was a black ropy thing in the road. It was a small blacksnake. I think Denise told her kids it was a dragon. Apparently she isn’t a snake fan.
After 50 miles I was ready to be done on the bike. While thewind was not as severe as other years (so I’m told) it was definitely a head-wind for most of the last 20 miles gusting at some points and killing speed. The last 6 miles drug on but finally we were within sight and sound of cheering and transition. I reached the dismount point, hopped off the bike and the gentleman with the flag said “Now run into transition”. I remember thinking “You run into transition. I’m walking”. My goal for the bike was 3:00. Actualtime, 3:10:13. Okay. I’m happy with that.
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| Bike done. Now for a simple half-marathon in 93 degrees. |
As I walked into T2 I realized something was not good. Much like Devilman my back was cramping and spasming really bad. “No problem” I thought. “It’s not like I have to do a full marathon . . just a half”. In T2 I did remember to slather more sunscreen on my bald pate but should have taken the time to re-apply elsewhere too. T2: 3:31. Amazing how slow walking makes a transition.
I started out on the run with good intentions leaving the transition at a trot. I cleared the alley away from the cordoned off transition area and my back seized up REALLY hard slowing me to a walk. Ouch! At Devilman my back hurt whether I walked or ran so I ran anyway. Now, at least when Iwalked it didn’t hurt as much. The run is normally my strong suit but today I knew that would not be the case. I didn’t have high ambitions and even as I walked away from transition I knew I would finish the day at the finish line. But what to do in the mean time? Okay . . mile by mile. Take it slow, run as much as you can, get lots of fluids, stay cool . . oh . . and hey, why not try those salt tabs you bought at the expo? Everyone including the pros raves about them. Heck Craig Alexander said he wouldn’t have cramped up at the end of Kona last year if he hadn’t dropped a bunch of his. So salt tabs it is. Pop one every couple of aid stations.
I could run a couple hundred yards then walk a bit. It was going slowly but miles were ticking by. Somewhere during a walk at about mile 3or 4 I bumped into Dave Henkel from Endurance Multisport. Dave is a super-nice guy who always has a smile and a kind word. He saw me walking and said “Pete, it’s a long run. Enjoy it”. He was running well on his return leg and I high-fived him and smiled back.
Each time I ran I could run a little farther but not much. I was dealing with the heat well but it wasn’t like I was running hard. I talked to a couple folks along the way. I met a young man near the turn whose name escapes me but he was coming off his third go-round with ACL surgery and was happy to be competing. He had calculated out how fast he had to go to finishand was doing fine. We both enjoyed a snow cone along with water and Gatorade. While talking I walked more then I had been and suddenly my back felt somewhat better. I wished him luck and set off. Now I could run farther. I started using telephone poles. Run 4 walk 1. Run 5 walk one. The runs got longer. Now I was getting hot but nothing that couldn’t be combated with water, Gatorade and ice stuffed in places I never would have dreamed of stuffing ice before. You’d be surprised how a few ice cubes down your shorts can keep you running a little longer.
On a funny note, I was worried about my Garmin before the race. I knew my 305 would not have the battery life to make it through a Half-Ironman. Denise gave the best advice here. I had donned the Garmin before the bike but hadn’t turned it on until a couple miles from the end. In this way I felt I could track my pace. As it turns out I could probably have used a sundial or perhaps carbon dating for that purpose.
Somewhere near mile 10 we turned a little Northwest and were met with a beautiful breeze. A couple hours ago on the bike I had been cursing that breeze. Now it felt delightful. My pace quickened. Around mile 11 there was a rather drunk party high fiving every runner on the way by. One of them tossed me something. It turned out to be a bean bag. He pointed to a bean bag baseball board and said “take a shot”. Okay. I did my best LeBron James and heaved the beanie missing terribly but still getting a loud, drunken cheer from the crowd.
For the last two miles I took advantage of every good Samaritan with a garden hose or sprinkler. It felt great and really did keep me going. I was happy to be running with my Zoot shoes with no socks. I heard a lot of squishing from those with socks on. My Zoots kept my feet comfortable all day despite splashing through puddles so I could get maximum water time from sprinklers and hoses.
After the mile 12 aid station we rounded a bend and you could see the finish. My back had finally calmed down and I was able to continue running. My pace picked up the closer we got. Finally, I made the turndown the chute. People were cheering, yelling, high fiving. Craig Sheckler from Endurance Multisport yelled to me. Suddenly I was hit with a very unexpected wave of emotion. Unlike my marathon where I knew I’d finish I realized that until now I had never really been sure of this. But there was the finish and the announcer called my name. I crossed the line. After 70.3 miles I crossed the line. Total time: 6:28:14. I was not the fastest guy out there but I wasn’ttrying to be.
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| Yes. I walked the last couple steps. Not because I was tired but because of a flood of emotion. |
On a side note, the finishers medal, shirt, bag, and memories aren’t the only thing I have to remember my inaugural experience at the Half-Ironman distance.
It turns out no matter what the bottle says, the sunscreen is probably not waterproof and not capable of lasting 8 hours.
Oh . . and one other lesson from the weekend. When you meet new friends Saturday morning and are excited to grab some gear and ride to the start for a practice swim, be sure to put anything you take out of your bag back in. Like your running hat that spent the entire race resting comfortably on the passengers seat of our motorhome.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
New Jersey Devilman Half-Lite
The 2012 New Jersey Devilman Half-Lite is one of those races that you sign up for that really doesn't seem like that big of a deal at the time. When I signed up, I had already committed to my first Half Iron Man in June and was going to take a whack at a Boston Qualifier at the Shamrock marathon in March. Heck, I'd done the Devilman Sprint as my first triathlon last year and this was just the same course twice around. How hard could it be?
Fast forward to Thursday May 3rd which was two days before the race. Somewhere on the Piranha Sports website or facebook page they mentioned that the race was 50 miles. What!? Hmmm . . let me get out my grade school math book. 8/10ths of a mile swim, plus 40.3 on the bike, plus 8.8 running. Damn. This is a long race! Up until this point, I had been almost solely focused on the swim. You see my grand plan for a long swim last year fell apart when the 1 mile swim at the Atlantic City triathlon was cancelled due to surf conditions. Not wanting the 1.2 mile swim at Eagleman in June to be my first REALLY long swim I figured I'd better do something longish in the Spring to get some confidence. Now bear in mind Devilman 2011 was a panic-fest in the water for me. I spent 3/4s of the swim pumping along on my back like a crippled jellyfish afraid to stick my face in the cold dark water. Still, I knew I had the fitness to finish the distance. It wouldn't be fast, but I didn't plan to be fast. (Good thing.)
Janice & I packed the car and arrived at Dad's in Salem, NJ on Friday before the race. Dad lives only 30 minute or so drive away from Cedarville where Devilman takes place. We stepped out of the car and were instantly swarmed by gnats. Hmmmm. Back in the car and off to Wal-Mart to buy a bottle of Bull Frog combination insect repellent & sunscreen. That turned out to be the best $9.00 I would spend the entire weekend. After catching up with Dad, taking care of a few things for him and having a dinner of roast beef & potatoes Janice and I turned in early in preparation for an early start on Saturday.
Saturday started warm and muggy. Just the way Friday ended. We drove to Cedarville arriving by 5:35 and noting immediately the amount of cars was far greater then last year. The little race was growing quickly. We got out of the car and, predictably, the swarm descended. Never fear. Bullfrog is here. A few moments of spraying later and we were bug free unlike most others. It was a little funny to watch new arrivals. It was always the same. They would exit the car and begin going about the business of unloading tri stuff and then suddenly stop, look around and begin flailing hopelessly at the air. The gnats were thick and got everywhere biting as they went. I could have sold Bullfrog for $10.00 a spray. Maybe even $20.00. The scene didn't change at registration. It was a long line of people flailing perpetually at the air or simply whimpering and hiding under whatever clothing they could cover up with.
After I got through registration I heard a familiar voice and turned around to see Joe Lombardi. A good friend and superior runner & triathlete. (I wanna be Joe when I grow up.) He headed off to register and I headed for body marking and transition. I wouldn't bump in to Joe again until the swim start.
I'm getting pretty good at setting my transition area up and was done in short order. I then wandered around a bit finally bumping in to Susanne Vanzijl another supremely awesome triathlete. (I wanna be her when I grow up too 'cause then I'll be fast and a whole lot better looking.) She was running a bit and I wasn't sure if she was warming up or the gnats had driven her batty since she was wearing tri shorts & sports bra and had plenty of exposed skin for them to dine on. I called after her and produced the Bullfrog. Seconds later she too was bug free and I didn't charge her $10.00.
Enough about gnats . . on to racing. Around 7:30ish we donned wetsuits and headed to transition. From a plane it probably looked like some sort of freshwater seal migration. 500 neoprene clad athletes migrating to the water. The sprint went off first led by the younger men, younger women, and then the "more experienced" folks. Sean Vanzijl (Susanne's hubby) and I watched in admiration as the faster swimmers erupted from the water. There were some veritable torpedos out there. Soon, the call came for those with purple swim caps to get ready. That was us. The old guys.
Until this point, I'd kept the butterflies at bay. Last year's swim, my first open water swim and first race, had been a debacle. I didn't have a wetsuit and as soon as I stuck my face in that cold, tea colored water I'd panicked and took nearly the entire loop to recover and start swimming normally, leaving the swim behind with relief. Since then, I'd done an Open Water Swim clinic, another triathlon, and a couple on-my-own swims. But that was all last year. My plan was to get in the water as quick as I could an acclimate. However, the plan was shot almost immediately. First, the start was much closer to shore this year. Last year we swam 30 yards or so offshore to get to the start. Second, when the starter called out 30 seconds to start, I was still mired on the ramp not even close to the water. I was seriously ready to start pushing and shoving. I'm not sure what was taking so long but pictured guys dipping their toes in to see if the water was cold.
No sooner were we in the water when the command to GO was given. I stuck my face in the water . . that cold MUDDY water from all the recent rain and tried to swim. I was in a sea of arms & legs that I couldn't see due to the murky water. I got kicked and swatted by invisible limbs. I stopped, started, stopped and finally let things clear out a bit. I was not interested in being first in my age group to leave the water. My focus today was to get through the swim. I had to do it to know I could make it through the swim at Eagleman. If I failed here, I knew Eagleman would be a DNS. And it was not going well. Within a few yards of the start I was overwhelmed. "Why am I doing this? I can't do this? Look how far it is and I've got to do it twice. There's no way". Keep swimming . . back stroke, take a few freestyle strokes. Keep moving forward. "Oh my God, why didn't I just do the sprint"? It went on like this around the first buoy and on toward the second buoy. I had given up and decided that when I got back to the starting point I would just get out. I wondered if someone would be there to take my chip. It was going to be disappointing to meet my friends as they finished the sprint and explain that I quit. Perhaps I should just leave.
"Okay Pete . . so you are going to quit. At least try to swim like you've practiced". A few normal strokes. "Come on now, relax and swim like you are in the pool. Don't try to be Michael Phelps. Breathe". My jangled nerves calmed down and my face got used to the cold water. I stopped holding my breath underwater and breathed normally. I began to develop a rhythm and started listening to the sound of my breath on each stroke. I began to focus on the next buoy. Suddenly I was almost back to the start. Decision time. It would be so easy to turn a bit to the right, climb out, hand in my chip and be out of the miserable, muddy, cold water. I could climb out. Instead I turned left and headed around the start buoy and lap 2.
Comfortably now. Stroke breathe. Stroke breathe. Stroke breathe. Stroke sight breath. "Just aim for the biggest green tree to the right of the gap. Just make for the next buoy". Quickly, I was there and around buoy 1. Only 3 to go. For every yellow turn buoy there was an intermediate orange buoy. "Just get to the orange buoy". Sighting for buoy 2 was a snap. There was a giant church steeple and a big red firetruck. Take your pick. Stoke, breathe. My heart stopped pounding a mile a minute. My progress was fast and efficient. The orange buoy glided by and the turn buoy approached quickly. On to buoy 3.
I'm not sure when it happened, but I was suddenly aware that I was really enjoying this. One lap ago I was wishing I had done the sprint. Now I was overjoyed to be swimming efficiently in this dark, cold, muddy water. I can do this. I AM doing this.
I rounded buoy 3 and made for the mid-stretch orange buoy all the while looking for the picnic pavilion that marked the exit. I was stroking harder now. Kicking more. "Okay Pete. Take it easy. You wasted a lot of energy on that first, slow lap, you aren't going to make it up here and you still have to bike & run". But I knew I would be triumphant in the swim. I KNEW in moments I would climb out on the dock and head for transition, unzipping my wetsuit like a pro as I ran. I knew I'd see the finish today and not quit all because I got through that swim.
With 100 yards to go I couldn't help it. I pulled harder and rocketed toward the ramp. I probably had a grin a mile wide on my face as I exited the water. Anyone watching would probably have started looking around for the finish line as I punched the air in triumph. The bike and run would be easy. I had survived the swim and more importantly swam a great second lap after getting my head under control. The day was one-third over and already a success. Swim time: 30:00:10. I'd love to know what my two lap times were.
I dashed off toward transition, counting rows as I entered. I now understand why people put up balloons and flags in transition. But I got the right row, finished stripping off the wetsuit, stuffed a couple gels in my pocket, donned glasses, helmet, and bike shoes, grabbed the bike and ran. I haven't mastered having the shoes pre-clipped yet but almost ran into someone coming back to get a fallen shoe. I also use SPD clips and my bike shoes are really easy to run in. I hit the mount area, clipped in and took off. I rounded the bend onto Main street in Cedarville and heard Janice cheer me on as I went by. T1: 2:09
The bike at Devilman is fairly easy. You can break it up into four 10 mile segments. 10 out, 10 back, turn around and do it again. The wind picked up pretty hard on the second loop and cut speed a bit both directions but it wasn't bad and it was a fairly pleasant ride. I grew up in this area (just North of here actually) and have fond memories of the New Jersey bay shore. If I had money with me, I may have stopped to buy a quart of local strawberries and sat on the roadside and eaten them. As it was, I settled for gels every 45 minutes or so.
I need to digress for a moment to pick a bone with my fellow triathletes, runners, & cyclists. I know we are all trying to be fast out there, but is it really necessary to drop empty gel packets on the ground? USAT does have a littering rule and even that shouldn't be necessary. Small towns like Cedarville welcome us with open arms, accommodate our races, and put up with driving delays while we take precedence. I think the least we can do is NOT LITTER. Stuff the empty gel pack in your pocket please. I saw dozens of them up and down the roads along the course. I'm sorry but NOT COOL.
Now . . back to our regularly scheduled blog. The bike ride went by pretty quick. On the first lap I had some discomfort in my left glute and hamstring and was forced to stretch and change position a bit but it seemed to calm down as I went on. I think I was a bit tense from the swim. The only real moment of lunacy on the bike came at around mile 27 when I rather inexplicably began to sing Johnny Cash tunes. I'm not sure how pedaling a bike gets one mentally to "Fulsom Prison Blues" but that is where I was. Regardless, after a couple hours, 3 gel packs, and a chorus of "Five Feet High and Rising", I was headed back toward mount/dismount and T3. And no, I haven't mastered the flying dismount yet either, at least not intentionally. I go with the COPS dismount. That is where you get off the bike and start running, except I take the bike along with me. Bike time: 2:16:35.
There were two humorous moments in T2. The first was when I thought someone had stolen my running shoes. I slipped my bike shoes off all the while looking for my running shoes. Hmmm. "They aren't here. That's my bike, and my towel, and that's where I left my shoes". But they weren't there. Glancing around I saw them on the other side of my bike off my towel yet neatly stacked next to each like they should be. Interesting. I'd love to know the story behind that. Anyway, I grabbed them and slipped them on. (Love my Zoot shoes & iBungees.) I then did what all the transition videos tell you you should do by attempting to put my race belt on while moving. This doesn't work so well when a) you are attempting to carry a water bottle with you b) you are so distracted putting the belt on you attempt to run out through "Bike In".
Fortunately, ol' Wrong Way Petey found his satellites and turned around the right way, if not the long way around the end of the racks instead of just running down an aisle. Regardless I was off on my strong suit: the run. T2: 1:39.
Fast forward to Thursday May 3rd which was two days before the race. Somewhere on the Piranha Sports website or facebook page they mentioned that the race was 50 miles. What!? Hmmm . . let me get out my grade school math book. 8/10ths of a mile swim, plus 40.3 on the bike, plus 8.8 running. Damn. This is a long race! Up until this point, I had been almost solely focused on the swim. You see my grand plan for a long swim last year fell apart when the 1 mile swim at the Atlantic City triathlon was cancelled due to surf conditions. Not wanting the 1.2 mile swim at Eagleman in June to be my first REALLY long swim I figured I'd better do something longish in the Spring to get some confidence. Now bear in mind Devilman 2011 was a panic-fest in the water for me. I spent 3/4s of the swim pumping along on my back like a crippled jellyfish afraid to stick my face in the cold dark water. Still, I knew I had the fitness to finish the distance. It wouldn't be fast, but I didn't plan to be fast. (Good thing.)
Janice & I packed the car and arrived at Dad's in Salem, NJ on Friday before the race. Dad lives only 30 minute or so drive away from Cedarville where Devilman takes place. We stepped out of the car and were instantly swarmed by gnats. Hmmmm. Back in the car and off to Wal-Mart to buy a bottle of Bull Frog combination insect repellent & sunscreen. That turned out to be the best $9.00 I would spend the entire weekend. After catching up with Dad, taking care of a few things for him and having a dinner of roast beef & potatoes Janice and I turned in early in preparation for an early start on Saturday.
Saturday started warm and muggy. Just the way Friday ended. We drove to Cedarville arriving by 5:35 and noting immediately the amount of cars was far greater then last year. The little race was growing quickly. We got out of the car and, predictably, the swarm descended. Never fear. Bullfrog is here. A few moments of spraying later and we were bug free unlike most others. It was a little funny to watch new arrivals. It was always the same. They would exit the car and begin going about the business of unloading tri stuff and then suddenly stop, look around and begin flailing hopelessly at the air. The gnats were thick and got everywhere biting as they went. I could have sold Bullfrog for $10.00 a spray. Maybe even $20.00. The scene didn't change at registration. It was a long line of people flailing perpetually at the air or simply whimpering and hiding under whatever clothing they could cover up with.
After I got through registration I heard a familiar voice and turned around to see Joe Lombardi. A good friend and superior runner & triathlete. (I wanna be Joe when I grow up.) He headed off to register and I headed for body marking and transition. I wouldn't bump in to Joe again until the swim start.
I'm getting pretty good at setting my transition area up and was done in short order. I then wandered around a bit finally bumping in to Susanne Vanzijl another supremely awesome triathlete. (I wanna be her when I grow up too 'cause then I'll be fast and a whole lot better looking.) She was running a bit and I wasn't sure if she was warming up or the gnats had driven her batty since she was wearing tri shorts & sports bra and had plenty of exposed skin for them to dine on. I called after her and produced the Bullfrog. Seconds later she too was bug free and I didn't charge her $10.00.
Enough about gnats . . on to racing. Around 7:30ish we donned wetsuits and headed to transition. From a plane it probably looked like some sort of freshwater seal migration. 500 neoprene clad athletes migrating to the water. The sprint went off first led by the younger men, younger women, and then the "more experienced" folks. Sean Vanzijl (Susanne's hubby) and I watched in admiration as the faster swimmers erupted from the water. There were some veritable torpedos out there. Soon, the call came for those with purple swim caps to get ready. That was us. The old guys.
Until this point, I'd kept the butterflies at bay. Last year's swim, my first open water swim and first race, had been a debacle. I didn't have a wetsuit and as soon as I stuck my face in that cold, tea colored water I'd panicked and took nearly the entire loop to recover and start swimming normally, leaving the swim behind with relief. Since then, I'd done an Open Water Swim clinic, another triathlon, and a couple on-my-own swims. But that was all last year. My plan was to get in the water as quick as I could an acclimate. However, the plan was shot almost immediately. First, the start was much closer to shore this year. Last year we swam 30 yards or so offshore to get to the start. Second, when the starter called out 30 seconds to start, I was still mired on the ramp not even close to the water. I was seriously ready to start pushing and shoving. I'm not sure what was taking so long but pictured guys dipping their toes in to see if the water was cold.
No sooner were we in the water when the command to GO was given. I stuck my face in the water . . that cold MUDDY water from all the recent rain and tried to swim. I was in a sea of arms & legs that I couldn't see due to the murky water. I got kicked and swatted by invisible limbs. I stopped, started, stopped and finally let things clear out a bit. I was not interested in being first in my age group to leave the water. My focus today was to get through the swim. I had to do it to know I could make it through the swim at Eagleman. If I failed here, I knew Eagleman would be a DNS. And it was not going well. Within a few yards of the start I was overwhelmed. "Why am I doing this? I can't do this? Look how far it is and I've got to do it twice. There's no way". Keep swimming . . back stroke, take a few freestyle strokes. Keep moving forward. "Oh my God, why didn't I just do the sprint"? It went on like this around the first buoy and on toward the second buoy. I had given up and decided that when I got back to the starting point I would just get out. I wondered if someone would be there to take my chip. It was going to be disappointing to meet my friends as they finished the sprint and explain that I quit. Perhaps I should just leave.
"Okay Pete . . so you are going to quit. At least try to swim like you've practiced". A few normal strokes. "Come on now, relax and swim like you are in the pool. Don't try to be Michael Phelps. Breathe". My jangled nerves calmed down and my face got used to the cold water. I stopped holding my breath underwater and breathed normally. I began to develop a rhythm and started listening to the sound of my breath on each stroke. I began to focus on the next buoy. Suddenly I was almost back to the start. Decision time. It would be so easy to turn a bit to the right, climb out, hand in my chip and be out of the miserable, muddy, cold water. I could climb out. Instead I turned left and headed around the start buoy and lap 2.
Comfortably now. Stroke breathe. Stroke breathe. Stroke breathe. Stroke sight breath. "Just aim for the biggest green tree to the right of the gap. Just make for the next buoy". Quickly, I was there and around buoy 1. Only 3 to go. For every yellow turn buoy there was an intermediate orange buoy. "Just get to the orange buoy". Sighting for buoy 2 was a snap. There was a giant church steeple and a big red firetruck. Take your pick. Stoke, breathe. My heart stopped pounding a mile a minute. My progress was fast and efficient. The orange buoy glided by and the turn buoy approached quickly. On to buoy 3.
I'm not sure when it happened, but I was suddenly aware that I was really enjoying this. One lap ago I was wishing I had done the sprint. Now I was overjoyed to be swimming efficiently in this dark, cold, muddy water. I can do this. I AM doing this.
I rounded buoy 3 and made for the mid-stretch orange buoy all the while looking for the picnic pavilion that marked the exit. I was stroking harder now. Kicking more. "Okay Pete. Take it easy. You wasted a lot of energy on that first, slow lap, you aren't going to make it up here and you still have to bike & run". But I knew I would be triumphant in the swim. I KNEW in moments I would climb out on the dock and head for transition, unzipping my wetsuit like a pro as I ran. I knew I'd see the finish today and not quit all because I got through that swim.
With 100 yards to go I couldn't help it. I pulled harder and rocketed toward the ramp. I probably had a grin a mile wide on my face as I exited the water. Anyone watching would probably have started looking around for the finish line as I punched the air in triumph. The bike and run would be easy. I had survived the swim and more importantly swam a great second lap after getting my head under control. The day was one-third over and already a success. Swim time: 30:00:10. I'd love to know what my two lap times were.
I dashed off toward transition, counting rows as I entered. I now understand why people put up balloons and flags in transition. But I got the right row, finished stripping off the wetsuit, stuffed a couple gels in my pocket, donned glasses, helmet, and bike shoes, grabbed the bike and ran. I haven't mastered having the shoes pre-clipped yet but almost ran into someone coming back to get a fallen shoe. I also use SPD clips and my bike shoes are really easy to run in. I hit the mount area, clipped in and took off. I rounded the bend onto Main street in Cedarville and heard Janice cheer me on as I went by. T1: 2:09
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| Bicycle! Bicycle! I want to ride my Bicycle |
I need to digress for a moment to pick a bone with my fellow triathletes, runners, & cyclists. I know we are all trying to be fast out there, but is it really necessary to drop empty gel packets on the ground? USAT does have a littering rule and even that shouldn't be necessary. Small towns like Cedarville welcome us with open arms, accommodate our races, and put up with driving delays while we take precedence. I think the least we can do is NOT LITTER. Stuff the empty gel pack in your pocket please. I saw dozens of them up and down the roads along the course. I'm sorry but NOT COOL.
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| "That was easy. What's next?" |
There were two humorous moments in T2. The first was when I thought someone had stolen my running shoes. I slipped my bike shoes off all the while looking for my running shoes. Hmmm. "They aren't here. That's my bike, and my towel, and that's where I left my shoes". But they weren't there. Glancing around I saw them on the other side of my bike off my towel yet neatly stacked next to each like they should be. Interesting. I'd love to know the story behind that. Anyway, I grabbed them and slipped them on. (Love my Zoot shoes & iBungees.) I then did what all the transition videos tell you you should do by attempting to put my race belt on while moving. This doesn't work so well when a) you are attempting to carry a water bottle with you b) you are so distracted putting the belt on you attempt to run out through "Bike In".
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| It's hard to read but the sign that is the other way behind me says "Run Out" |
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| Heading out on the 8.8 Mile Run |
Running sure is a lot tricker after a difficult swim and 40 miles on the bike. For the first two miles I struggled to slow my pace to something reasonable and with mild to severe back spasms. I was forced to stop and stretch several times. I walked for a few yards but my back didn't feel any better walking so I figured I may as well run. After stretching for the third time, and grabbing some gatorade at the second aid station, my back eased up and I was able to run normally. Overall the 8.8 miles was a bit slower then I expected but the goal was to finish. As the run progressed I began passing runners despite not exactly setting a torrid pace. I think I was between 8-8:30 which for my purposes was fine. Maybe someday I'll worry about being fast. For now, finishing running was the goal. My run got stronger as I went and I began to visualize and look forward to the finish. I hit the last aid station (where they were out of gatorade . . not good considering there were still well over 100 runners behind me), looped into town, on to Main street and then toward the school. At that point, I could hear the finish. I couldn't wait to finish . . mostly because I was FAMISHED!
I took the last right turn by the school, passed the woman in front of me who seemed to slow a bit (clearly she wasn't as hungry as me for the finish, and I mean that in the most literal sense of "hungry") and sped across the line in 4:08:48 total time.
It is worth mentioning that I'm quite sure I had one accomplishment no other athlete on the course today had. I was able to identify over 20 bird species by call during the bike & run including 9 species of warbler. I think USAT should take this under consideration during rankings.
Also while many athletes went home yesterday with medals, age group awards, and team points, I scored a couple quarts of those fantastic Jersey strawberries on the way home. Pure deliciousness. If you do this race be sure to stop and get both local strawberries & asparagus. You'll find none better anywhere.
Also while many athletes went home yesterday with medals, age group awards, and team points, I scored a couple quarts of those fantastic Jersey strawberries on the way home. Pure deliciousness. If you do this race be sure to stop and get both local strawberries & asparagus. You'll find none better anywhere.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Time to Rest & Reset a bit
For the last few years I have focused my efforts at running, diet, physical fitness and now triathlon around losing weight and getting in shape. I have successfully pared down from 230+ lbs. to a consistent 180. I have been trying to shed a few more pounds and lose the last of the belly fat using the same methods that got me to this point. That is, a consistent (and rather sparse) diet, and lots and lots of exercise. My typical week includes 20-30 miles of running (more during marathon training), 20-60 miles of bike riding, and a couple thousand yards swimming. After my spring marathon at Shamrock I've been ramping up the bike and swim and cutting back a hair on running.
I've noticed two things. No more weight is going away, and I'm completely out of energy for big workouts or races. Looking at my calendar I think I need to add some rest days and rework my nutrition plan to go from weight loss to sustaining a high-energy training regimen. The latter is especially true given my attempt to complete a Half-Iron Man later this summer.
Now I wished I paid more attention to all the articles on nutrition I've read in magazines the last couple years. The one question I have is how come nutrition experts can't talk about real quantities of food? I see things like "Runners should take in 75-120 grams of protein per day". What? So is that like a chicken? A flank steak? The bugs I swallowed during my evening run along the river trail? A Stegosaurus? Same applies to carbs, fiber and everything else.
I've noticed two things. No more weight is going away, and I'm completely out of energy for big workouts or races. Looking at my calendar I think I need to add some rest days and rework my nutrition plan to go from weight loss to sustaining a high-energy training regimen. The latter is especially true given my attempt to complete a Half-Iron Man later this summer.
Now I wished I paid more attention to all the articles on nutrition I've read in magazines the last couple years. The one question I have is how come nutrition experts can't talk about real quantities of food? I see things like "Runners should take in 75-120 grams of protein per day". What? So is that like a chicken? A flank steak? The bugs I swallowed during my evening run along the river trail? A Stegosaurus? Same applies to carbs, fiber and everything else.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Shamrock Marathon 2012 - Race Report
This race report begins one year ago when I crossed the line at the 2011 Shamrock marathon in a personal record (PR) time of 3:32 and change. 2 minutes off a Boston Qualification. No matter. I knew 3:30 really wouldn’t get me in. I was exhausted at the finish. Or was I? Could I REALLY have not made that 3:30 or did I mentally give up? As time wore on I wasn’t sure.
In a move that surprised nobody, the Boston Athletic Association has since, somewhat arbitrarily, chopped 5 minutes off all qualifying times for all age groups and genders. I was no longer 2 minutes from making a coveted BQ but 7. Hmmm. I can’t do that. Or can I? Over the following weeks I looked at my other, shorter race times and those of my peers. I looked at my training. The numbers indicated maybe I have a better marathon in me. Maybe . .
Let me step back a moment and point out that I am NOT built like a runner. At 5’11” and around 180ish pounds I am stocky when compared to other runners. Books by those that are supposed to know say I should be 30 lbs lighter. Those that know me say I would like like an anorexic skeleton. That said, there are definitely still a few pounds that could go away but certainly not 30.
Still I decided I had to try. The first thought was to hire a coach and go nuts. Running, running, running and more running. Heck, even if I got fired it would be worth it if I got that BQ right? Hmm. Perhaps not. I decided I would rather try by myself. The expense of a coach is certainly a point of argument but I still wanted to know it was all me. So I laid out a plan and signed up for what appeared to be the most logical choice of races: Shamrock 2012. It was in a good, cooler month, and it is a fast flat course that I was familiar with.
I started training diligently in November following a 6-day a week running schedule. After a summer of swim, bike, run, suddenly my body hated 6 days a week of running. More importantly, my mind hated 6 days a week of running. I took a drastic (and perhaps fatal to my BQ) step of eliminating one day of running but keeping a high-energy workout such as spin or a hard weight session on that day.
Training went on through a mild winter that only involved one 20+ mile run on the treadmill. The weather gods smiled on the remainder of my long run days and I had perfect training conditions for most outings. My runs were fast, and on target. There was an inkling of doubt on 2 long runs when I struggled to keep a hard pace at the end. There was another inkling of doubt when I could not find time during speedwork days at the end of training to squeeze in a proper set of 10x800 Yassos but had to settle for 6 or 7.
The last 20 mile run was a hilly, windy affair with a head cold. I still managed to finish the whole 20 miles with a friend in 2:45. I thought this was a good omen and felt ready.
Finally, race weekend rolled around. Janice and I departed in our rental car for the 6-hour drive to Virginia Beach, VA. The running community takes over the town for this event. On a weekend that features the beach and St. Patrick’s Day you might think it is a nasty, drunken affair but any college drunks are far outnumbered by runners and volunteers. The half-marathon sells out by January and the marathon not far behind though this year was not a sellout.
We arrived at the expo mid afternoon and I got my bib, shirt and did some shopping without really buying much more then a gel or two and a pair of socks. Then it was off to the hotel to check in. We go beach front at the Best Western Oceanfront. It is the closest hotel to the exit gate of the finish. I can finish the course, turn right, get a shower and then go to the conveniently close beer tent. We ate dinner Saturday night at Tautog’s. An interesting place a woman at the expo told us about. There is no sign, just a sailfish statue. They also do not take reservations for small parties. We got there at opening and waited in line to learn we were the first people not to get a table. But we were the first people at the bar for 2 of the 7 available bar stools. Thank goodness for that. We got a glass of wine and a menu and enjoyed a scrumptious meal.
Back at the hotel I laid out my various clothes and equipment for race day and also went over a water strategy with Janice. I am terrible with a capital “T” at water stops but can drink out of a bottle no problem. Since the full marathon goes South then loops back by the hotel I arranged with Janice to hand me a full bottle on the way by. This strategy worked like a charm. Finally, off to bed.
Race day dawned, a little cloudy with temps in the low 50s. Throughout the day, it would clear up to a sunny 60 something. It was reported to be only 54 but take it from someone who spent the afternoon in a t-shirt it was not 54 but much warmer. Anyway, where was I? Oh right, marathoning.
I enjoyed some breakfast and coffee at the hotel and made my way to the start with Janice at about 7:55. Race time was 8:30 and we were just a few blocks from the start. The preliminaries involved singing happy birthday to the race (it’s 40th), the National Anthem and an early start for the members of Team Hoyt, and the wheel chair runners. Finally, the 8:30 start for Corral 1 was sounded and we were off heading South on Atlantic Avenue.
My goal was 3:25 or better. This would at least let me have the chance at giving Boston my name. Was I confident in that time? Honestly? No. I knew how beat I was at the finish the prior year and that was 2 minutes off my 3:30 goal. A 7 minute PR in a marathon is enormous. While I felt my training had been adequate I DO NOT feel my food discipline had been adequate. The plan since November had been to lose those last few pesky pounds. While the holidays usually aren’t my enemy, high stress week after high-stress week had created nervous eating at work, and famished eating after long work-days at home. Still, the early miles were easy.
Mile 1: 7:37
Mile 2: 7:34
Mile 3: 7:43
Along about mile 3 something happened that will forever change my feelings about making or missing goals in a race. We passed part of Team Hoyt. I did this last year but was running as part of a vibrant race group and we chanted TEAM HOYT, TEAM HOYT, TEAM HOYT. While being part of the crowd, I didn’t take the time to think about Team Hoyt. This year I passed close enough by see Team Hoyt. I decided no matter what happens, even if I wind up walking across the finish line today, or some other race, I won’t be sad. At least I will get to walk across that line. There are many out there who will never have that chance.
Mile 4: 7:37
Mile 5: 7:41
I was going along nicely perhaps a hair fast at times but not overly so and I remember thinking around mile 6 or 7 how easy the pace felt. No effort at all so far. “Gosh, I hope it stays easy”.
Mile 6: 7:40
Mile 7: 7:45
Mile 7: 7:45
Mile 8: 7:39
Mile 9: 7:43
Mile 10: 7:40
After turning back to the North, running through the military base and high-fiving all the soldiers & sailors we headed back up over the bridge (the only incline on the whole course) and out on to the boardwalk. Miles 11 & 12 took us straight into the wind.
Mile 11: 7:42
Mile 12: 7:44
The end of mile 12 took us back onto Atlantic Avenue where I grabbed a fresh bottle of water from Janice at the hotel and kept going. Things were looking good at the half.
13.1: 1:41:47
Miles 12 to 14 are filled with people along the streets of Atlantic Avenue cheering and calling your name, ringing cow bells, blowing air horns, all truly cheering you on. And then you leave town for more open and desolate roadway. It’s at this point the landscape opens up and you feel the wind even more then on the boardwalk. It starts wearing relentlessly, slowing you down and you push harder. My body was starting to revolt at the pace. I was struggling to keep the miles below 7:50.
13: 7:41
14: 7:46
15: 7:47
16: 7:48
There was another problem: Too much coffee and too much time waiting before the start of the race. I’d peed as often as I could before we left the hotel and again walking to the start at the last un-crowded opportunity. But now, for the first time ever in a race I REALLY had to go to the bathroom. There are a couple porta johns near mile 17. I wasn’t so worried about stopping to use the bathroom but rather getting going again. BQ pace was beginning to be laborious and I was worried. But I remember the sage advice I got from far more experienced runners: “If you are thinking about going, go”. So, I stopped and used the facility. I came out just in time to see the 3:25 pace group go by. “Oh no”. I thought I had more cushion there. I set off in pursuit. For a few moments I gained ground. But my stop had cost me my momentum. My legs ached and complained of the restart. I tried to override and pushed myself on faster. And I watched as the 3:25 pace group and my BQ time got farther and farther away. I knew at that moment I wouldn’t catch them and I would not BQ. I gave up. I walked for a bit along the shoulder. It was the middle of the park and I thought how pretty it was.
17: 7:53
18: 9:33
I didn’t have a back-up plan. Having completed 3 marathons, I knew I’d finish. I also knew the BQ was a make-or-break and that if it was break I knew I would not have the legs or the will to try to PR either. I walked a bit and ran a bit at ridiculously slow paces. My left knee and hip ached relentlessly.
19: 10:00
20: 9:42
I was not alone. There was a contingent of runners who, like me, didn’t have the stuff to keep the torrid pace. There was the skinny guy in the green shirt who I didn’t speak to but made a connection with as we alternated passing each other in our attempts to run. There was the young couple that I had left behind earlier and now passed me but whom I passed a few minutes later. There was Team Caleb. Caleb was a decorated soldier who died in the line of duty last October. He and his young wife had planned to race this race together but in his absence, and with the company of his comrades she pressed on in the race in his memory. She was struggling. She and her companions would pass me, and then I would catch up to them as they tried to help her stretch away cramps. While I was miserable myself, I would return on Tuesday to my life of normalcy while she would return to an empty house and a missing hero and husband. I stopped and found the a little sample tube of Cramp 911 I got at an expo and gave it to her. I said “I don’t know if it works, but maybe it will help”. She thanked me and I left her with a “Go Team Caleb”. I thought later that I hoped she knew it was topical and not oral. There were many other asphalt warriors struggling toward the finish line.
21: 10:57
22: 10:32
23: 10:38
All walk/run now. My left knee and hip hurt so terribly a dragging, limping gate was all I could muster. I had left behind the green shirt guy and Team Caleb and been left behind by the young couple who seemed to keep a nice steady solid run going. I at least had a new goal in mind. To finish better then Richmond. That was my first marathon and I had similarly fallen apart though for far different reasons. That was cockiness and naiveté. Today I had taken a risk to push the edge and failed. I was okay with today and felt beating my worst time was a worthwhile goal. That had been a looks-good-on-paper 3:53.
At least I was back in civilization. There were more and more people along the route again. I had inserted my headphones to try to get inspiration from the music and it did help however I did discover that contrary to a statement I made prior to the race, you can indeed run slow to Twisted Sister. Still, with people cheering and being able to run block by block instead of mile by mile I kept going.
24: 9:28
Water stops were my new motivation. I sucked down my last gel at 24 miles and looked forward to every cup of Gatorade I could grab. Somewhere along the way, someone was passing out half a banana. I grabbed one and said “God Bless you”. I don’t think I have ever tasted anything so heavenly.
25: 10:53
I could only run short distances before my left knee began to completely shutdown and stop working. I remember passing a guy who was hobbling along unable to put any weight on his cramped up right leg. I remember thinking “Boy I’m glad I’m not him” and then chuckling because I probably didn’t look much better.
Somewhere between the mile 25 and mile 26 marker I was shuffling along at a walk looking down with my hands on my hips and a young gentleman came by, looked at me and said “Come on”. I started running again and followed him to the last water stop where I slowed to a walk long enough for one more Gatorade.
Now it was on to the boardwalk and the trot past King Neptune to the finish. I could see the finish. I was running (sort of). Why the HELL wasn’t it getting any closer!? I chuckled to myself again remembering the sticker in the expo that read “Who the HELL moved the finish line”.
26: 10:23
I removed the head phones to soak up the finish line. I can’t say I enjoyed the finish line. I was truly a beaten man. I was conscious of crossing the “warning” line and heard the announcer mispronounce my name. “From Reading, Pennsylvania Peter Gichens”. I didn’t care. I crossed the line, I think the most tired I’ve ever been at the finish of a race, my peripheral vision a little blurry.
Chip Time: 3:47:47
I located my wife in the crowd who was holding our Flip camera and managed a feeble wave. Somewhere I got a medal, and hat. I spied a bench and REALLY wanted to sit down but was told to keep moving.
At this point, urgent voices behind me shouted “Clear the way”! I turned to see volunteers carrying a collapsed runner and hurrying toward the medical tent. I couldn’t help wondering if he got to finish and whether anyone thought to grab his medal, shirt and hat. And then I thought, “I’m glad I’m not that guy”.
I got to finish on my own two feet. It was a good day.
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