2012 Callaway Gardens Marathon (Plus an extra 7 miles or so of fun and frivolity, just to have some additional fun)
Today marked 3 weeks out from my start of the 2012 Iron Horse 100 Mile Endurance Run. As I'm running the 100k event, today was also scheduled to be my longest long run of training, with a 50k scheduled to happen. Fortunately for me, the Callaway Gardens Marathon is also scheduled for this very same weekend.
After my overly-understanding, incredibly patient, not-understanding-yet-accepting-of-me wife gave me the needed dispensation of grace for paying the $$ to register for it, I slipped into Late Registration the day before. Now my required long run could take place on a course I run often, and with a good number of fellow runners. This is so much more better than running such a distance by myself and in the middle of the night. I was pretty excited that it worked out so well.
To consolidate this report as much as possible, here are the relevant details of pre-race: Fueling plan on Saturday (day before the run) went according to plan. Pretty much adopted a fluid-only fueling strategy (Boost Plus is my friend). Clothing was shorts, The North Face arm sleeves, CEP calf compression sleeves, Nike compression short sleeve beneath a New Balance podium short sleeve technical shirt, and Nike Thermal gloves. I'm just now realizing how I sound with this description, and it does appear that I must have wandered into a running store clearance sale on gear. Multi-vendor mish-mash of my favorite running trinkets, but that's how I roll, I guess. I'm cheap, what can I say?
I also elected to wear my new Ultimate Direction Katoa II hydration waist pack (thanks honey). I decided that because this was to be a training run for race day, I would depend upon myself for nutritition, and not the aid stations along the course. The Katoa II provided me with (2) 22 oz bottles for hydration along with multiple big zippered pouches that I used for stashing my supply of Gu, S-caps, etc. All things considered, this configuration worked very well for me today.
From a pacing perspective, I am reasonably satisfied with how the day went. Again, I was NOT wanting to "race" this marathon. I had to keep telling myself that it's a training run. A 31+ mile long training run, and I need to take it slowly. Ideally, I was hoping to be able to keep my pace no faster than a 10:00-10:15 pace. No matter how hard I tried, I could not make myself go any slower than a 9:23. That seemed to be where my body "locked on" and it just hung there, no matter how hard I tried to slow it down more. In the latter miles of the race, though, I did have an epiphany on how to slow it down. I began to walk through the aid stations. I didn't stop, but found that if I walked, it would add some time on my feet, and that's what I was shooting for in the training run.
When I crossed the Finish line, the clock read somewhere around 4:23:22, which is way slower than my normal marathon times, but still way too fast for what I was planning on hitting. Either way, it was a great race with some great other runners along the course. This helps make all the difference, in my opinion. Just being out there with others is such a boost when you're comparing it to running this kind of distance solo. I'm really thankful that I had the opportunity to participate in this one.
Once I had stowed all of my gear and unneeded clothing in the Hummer, (it was much, much warmer by this time of day) I went out along the lakeside and hammered out another 6 miles or so to reach that 31.1 mile goal I had set.
In summary, todays run gave me the mental boost it was intended to, and I'm really stoked as I look forward to the Iron Horse 100 in three weeks. I will reach 200 miles of training for the month of January, and that's pretty sweet. I will likely begin to taper my mileage sometime next weekend and prepare my body for what I know is going to be the toughest challenge I have faced to date.
Happy running, guys. I hope your training continues to improve.
Showing posts with label race reports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race reports. Show all posts
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, June 26, 2011
2011 Summer Solstice 5k Race Report
There's nothing quite like a local 5k, run on a course that even I consider to be hilly, at 8pm on Saturday night, with a race start temperature of 94 degrees.
Like I said, nothing quite like it.
This race is celebrating its 5th year and my family has been part of it ever since it started back in 2006. In fact, this was the first organized 5k that I ever cajoled my wife into running with me a couple of years ago. I will never, and I mean NEVER, forget her turning to me on one of the monster hills and saying:
Anyway, fast forward to this years event. Our two oldest sons were unfortunately out of town on a camping trip with a group from church, so this was a different experience for us. It's traditionally a family oriented event for us and all of our kids run the races. This year, our 8 year old was the only child we had present, so he toed the line for the 1 Mile race all by himself. Luckily, there were several friends with him so he wasn't alone.
It's really a cool thing to watch your kids go tearing out of the Start line during a race. Seeing that excitement and focus in their eyes is really amazing to me. My wife and I were able to spectate the race, take some pictures and mill around.
About a half hour later, the 5k runners were called to the Start line. I lined up in the first 20% of the runners so I would be able to get out in good position. At this point, let me remind you of my nice 14 mile tempo run that I completed earlier in the morning. Because I'm training for the 50 miler in October, the 14 miler was the most important run of the day, obviously. After running it pretty hard, I felt good and well rested. I thought that I had sustained no significant expense of energy, fitness, or fatigue. I knew I had this 5k later in the day, but I thought I held enough back from the 14 mile tempo so that I could perform the 5k in typical sub 22:00 fashion.
Yeah, right.
As the gun goes off, I tear off (relatively speaking, of course) and assume around a 6:20 pace. This is typically how I will run the 5k. I'll maintain the 6:20 pace for the first 1.5 miles or so, and then let it slip to around 7:00 pace until the final stretch. Once I can see the Finish chute, I'll merely empty the tank with whatever is left.
This time though, the 6:20 pace had my heartrate pegged in VO2max land from the start. My typical 5k race heart rate is 140, which is high for me. My resting heart rate is between 45-50, so 140 is pushing me into Zone 2. In less than 2 minutes from starting the race, heart rate was at 180-190. Unsustainable is the word that came to my mind.
At any rate, I realized that my vacation into anaerobic territory would be short-lived and that I had to simply get as far as I could before my pace inevitably slowed. I struggled greatly with this run; moreso than I can remember struggling in a race. At Mile 2, I remember realizing that I felt worse at that point than I have ever felt after a full marathon. Far worse.
I hung on to a 7:00 pace until the 2.9 mile point, at which time I just about passed out. This was the last, long and steep hill before the straightaway to the Finish chute and I usually am able to really push my pace up this monster and then kick it to the Finish. Unfortunately, I had nothing to give on this day. I made it up the hill at somewhere around a 7:45 pace and was nearly dead by the time it leveled out for the final 100 meters to the Finish. I had no kick left. I had no energy to call upon. Even worse, I had no desire to try. I crossed the Finish line and immediately collapsed on the grass beyond it. I just laid there. I've never felt worse than I did at that moment. I didn't care if I came in dead last, I only was glad it was over.
Our youngest son came over to where I was laying and offered me a bottle of cold water, which I gladly poured over myself. My wife made it over to where I was laying and she seemed to feel genuine pity for my sorry, spent and exhausted carcass. Eventually, I was able to actually move again, and got up from the ground, grass stuck all over me. Knowing that I had the slowest time I've ever run that 5k in, I was certain that staying for the awards ceremony would yield nothing for me other than the opportunity to clap and cheer for runners that actually showed genuine athletic ability today; unlike myself.
Long story short, however. I somehow managed to still win 1st place for my AG, and yet again defend my AG championship from the past 2 (maybe 3) years. I don't know how anyone could have been slower than I was, but they apparently were. Nonetheless, I accepted my medal and chalked tonights performance up to doing too much in my 14 mile tempo earlier in the day, and leaving nothing in my body to call upon when I needed it. All in all, the 14 miler was more important to me because of the training. A fast 5k is not going to help me in October when I'm on the backside of Rocky Point hill in Pine Mountain at Mile 46. The 14 miler will.
So, that's it. 24:02 in a sufferfest for yours truly. I'll try to do better next year, that's for sure.
Like I said, nothing quite like it.
This race is celebrating its 5th year and my family has been part of it ever since it started back in 2006. In fact, this was the first organized 5k that I ever cajoled my wife into running with me a couple of years ago. I will never, and I mean NEVER, forget her turning to me on one of the monster hills and saying:
"I can't believe you talked me into running this race as my first...."Priceless.
Anyway, fast forward to this years event. Our two oldest sons were unfortunately out of town on a camping trip with a group from church, so this was a different experience for us. It's traditionally a family oriented event for us and all of our kids run the races. This year, our 8 year old was the only child we had present, so he toed the line for the 1 Mile race all by himself. Luckily, there were several friends with him so he wasn't alone.
It's really a cool thing to watch your kids go tearing out of the Start line during a race. Seeing that excitement and focus in their eyes is really amazing to me. My wife and I were able to spectate the race, take some pictures and mill around.
Yeah, right.
As the gun goes off, I tear off (relatively speaking, of course) and assume around a 6:20 pace. This is typically how I will run the 5k. I'll maintain the 6:20 pace for the first 1.5 miles or so, and then let it slip to around 7:00 pace until the final stretch. Once I can see the Finish chute, I'll merely empty the tank with whatever is left.
This time though, the 6:20 pace had my heartrate pegged in VO2max land from the start. My typical 5k race heart rate is 140, which is high for me. My resting heart rate is between 45-50, so 140 is pushing me into Zone 2. In less than 2 minutes from starting the race, heart rate was at 180-190. Unsustainable is the word that came to my mind.
At any rate, I realized that my vacation into anaerobic territory would be short-lived and that I had to simply get as far as I could before my pace inevitably slowed. I struggled greatly with this run; moreso than I can remember struggling in a race. At Mile 2, I remember realizing that I felt worse at that point than I have ever felt after a full marathon. Far worse.
I hung on to a 7:00 pace until the 2.9 mile point, at which time I just about passed out. This was the last, long and steep hill before the straightaway to the Finish chute and I usually am able to really push my pace up this monster and then kick it to the Finish. Unfortunately, I had nothing to give on this day. I made it up the hill at somewhere around a 7:45 pace and was nearly dead by the time it leveled out for the final 100 meters to the Finish. I had no kick left. I had no energy to call upon. Even worse, I had no desire to try. I crossed the Finish line and immediately collapsed on the grass beyond it. I just laid there. I've never felt worse than I did at that moment. I didn't care if I came in dead last, I only was glad it was over.
Our youngest son came over to where I was laying and offered me a bottle of cold water, which I gladly poured over myself. My wife made it over to where I was laying and she seemed to feel genuine pity for my sorry, spent and exhausted carcass. Eventually, I was able to actually move again, and got up from the ground, grass stuck all over me. Knowing that I had the slowest time I've ever run that 5k in, I was certain that staying for the awards ceremony would yield nothing for me other than the opportunity to clap and cheer for runners that actually showed genuine athletic ability today; unlike myself.
Long story short, however. I somehow managed to still win 1st place for my AG, and yet again defend my AG championship from the past 2 (maybe 3) years. I don't know how anyone could have been slower than I was, but they apparently were. Nonetheless, I accepted my medal and chalked tonights performance up to doing too much in my 14 mile tempo earlier in the day, and leaving nothing in my body to call upon when I needed it. All in all, the 14 miler was more important to me because of the training. A fast 5k is not going to help me in October when I'm on the backside of Rocky Point hill in Pine Mountain at Mile 46. The 14 miler will.
So, that's it. 24:02 in a sufferfest for yours truly. I'll try to do better next year, that's for sure.
Monday, February 14, 2011
2011 Mercedes Marathon race report
Having run as many races as I have, I should have known better.
Having spent so many blog posts talking about "pre race strategy", you would assume that I wouldn't make rookie mistakes.
Talking at length to other friends and runners about what to do, how to do it, and when to do it, one would casually attribute some level of expertise to me.
You'd be dead wrong on all counts.
Here goes...
T minus 24 hours and counting...All systems "GO"
My wife and I traveled to Birmingham Saturday around lunchtime. Our three boys were spending the weekend with my parents, so we had a nice Valentine's weekend/Chris-has-got-to-run-another-race adventure in the works. Everything was good. I had been following
my pre-race nutrition plan to include my tried and true 70/20/10 carbs/protein/fat consumption all Saturday. We had a nice lunch in town when we arrived, and I continued to supplement my intake with my Boost regimen.
We made it to the Expo at Boutwell Auditorium around 4:45pm, and I was able to pickup my packet, verify my D-Tag, and make a quick exit. All of this in less than 15 minutes, no less. After checking into the host hotel at the Start/Finish line, we moved our gear/luggage from the parking deck across the property, into our 4th floor room. At least, I THOUGHT we moved everything from the minivan. (Note: this assumption of mine will play a pivotal; albeit catastrophic role later Sunday morning) After some shopping that evening, we returned to our hotel room for the night.
I spent the usual 30 minutes getting my gear laid out for race morning. Plans called for temps around freezing on race morning, so I laid our a short sleeve compression shirt, short sleeve running shirt, armsleeves, race ready shorts, socks, running visor, Garmin, iPod and sunglasses. Everything ready for a nice brisk morning of running the urban streets of downtown Bham. Looking good so far.
It was now about 11pm (or so) and I realized that I didn’t see my remaining 3 bottles of Boost anywhere in the hotel room. At this point, my feeble, pea-sized brain realized that I had inadvertently left the Boost in the minivan.
Great.
(Another note: At this point, an intelligent man would realize the potential impact of not fulfilling his nutritional plan, and would quickly scurry the 10 minutes to the parking deck, grab the Boost bottles, come back to the room, and continue with the regimen.)
…an intelligent man would, but not me.
Instead, I decided to myself that I was probably alright not to worry about the remaining Boost regimen. I didn’t want to have to schlep across the hotel property, down into the parking deck, etc…. I’m such a complete moron…At this point in our story, my fate is pretty well sealed. I have made a fundamental error in thinking, and my ability to show up at the Start line with a full glycogen tank is now impeded. As such, my ability to perform is diminished, and I’m completely oblivious to it.
Race Morning: Let’s make a couple of additional stupid mistakes, shall we?
I awaken from a good night’s sleep and start the routine of getting ready now. Nothing unusual here, and everything is going fine. I start to scrounge around looking for breakfast, and decide that I have failed to bring my standard breakfast items of wheat bagel and honey pb.
Brilliant.
This combination has always given me the energy I need, without providing any of the potential stomach upset that plagues so many racers on race day. I’ve lived by this breakfast, and I now don’t have it with me. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and it’s true. I decided to go with a Nutrigrain bar and a package of granola bars. Now, I still don’t have Boost to replenish my glycogen stores, so what do I elect to go with instead?
Diet Dr. Pepper.
No comment needed.
So, that’s my breakfast; a Nutrigrain bar, half a granola bar, and a diet Dr. Pepper. Talk about a breakfast of champions, right?
I proceed down to the hotel lobby, eventually leading out to the Start corral, and find my place amongst the 6:30 min/mile runners. Too fast a crew to line up with? Yep. Did I do it anyway? Yep. Am I courting disaster by not going out at MY needed marathon pace? Yep.
…3…2…1 GO!
The starting gun is fired and the 7,241 runners lurch forward through the widening streets of downtown Birmingham. Because the marathon itself isn’t large enough to justify a corral/wave start, everyone starts together. Now, I’m not a fan of this because you just don’t know where to line up at the Start. Wanting to not get caught up behind slower runners, I chose to start out with a faster group of runners than I should have been aligned with. All of my good intentions of slowing down past the Start line and dropping down to my 8:22 pace never, ever happened. As is the norm for me, I found myself caught up in the first few miles of the race, and was just ripping it up from the outset. The crew I was running with was entirely too fast for my sub 3:40:00 goal time, and running with them was an exercise in spending too much energy on a pace I couldn’t maintain for 26.2 miles.
The downtown area is nothing but uphills/downhills and a few flat stretches. We were blasting the uphills and absolutely screaming down the downhills.. it was definitely a blast being out there. I didn’t really think too much about it until I hit the 5k timing mat. I crossed it only 1:00 off my 5k PR time, and that sounded an alarm in my head. I have been racing long enough to know that setting PR’s in a marathon should NOT happen. It shouldn’t even be close to happening. I should have crossed that 5k timing mat about 4 minutes off my PR if I had been sticking to my pacing plan. But even with this clock staring me in the face as I zipped past it, I STILL didn’t sense the degree of danger that I was running in. I knew I needed to slow down and settle into MY pace, but I didn’t sense the urgency of it.
Fast forward to the 10k mark. I crossed the 6.2 mile timing matt less than 50 seconds off my 10k PR time. Not only had I failed to slow myself down, I actually sped up in the process…
At this 6.2 mile marker, again I knew that I needed to try harder to slow my pace and regulate my effort level so I don’t have issues later. But still again, I just didn’t perceive the significance of my situation. For years now, I have preached to racers that going out the Start gate at even 10 seconds faster than your goal pace can KILL your chances of running the race you have been training for.. and here I am running over a minute and a half too fast?? What was I thinking?? Actually, I WASN’T thinking, that’s the problem.
For the next 5-6 miles, I tried to slow my pace and settle into the 8:22 range. Because of the ongoing ups/downs of the race course, getting an accurate gauge on current pace was difficult. The Garmin just didn’t have an easy time splitting the averages of the slower uphill climbs coupled with the zippy downhill rips we were taking. I approached the 13.1 mile halfway point and was eager to see how much time I had managed to re-deposit into my tank.
Say hello to my new Half Marathon PR.
Apparently, I sped up after the 10k mark. I ran a new Half marathon PR by nearly 2 minutes. And let me say that my Half marathon PR was something I had worked HARD for a couple of years ago. I had trained for it exclusively. I had worked on it consistently. I didn’t expect it to fall for several years, and I beat it badly on the first half of a hilly, marathon course.
Can you just sense what is about to happen in the next few miles? Can’t you just see it coming?
The Dark Side of the Moon
At this point in our story, yours truly is realizing, in increasing degrees, the errors of his ways. I am now starting to feel some signs of minor fatigue, dehydration, and general lethargy as I approach the Miles 14-16. Aside from these realizations though, I reach the more disturbing conclusion that I am absolutely powerless to influence my own destiny in the coming 12 miles.
That was a slap in the face, and it was completely caused by my own bad decisions. From the night before until the present mile, I had crafted the disaster that was now falling on top of me, and I could do nothing more than shake my head, ask myself how I could have been so stupid, and pray (and I mean PRAY) for strength and grace as the pain started…
Miles 17-18 saw my body start to feel a fairly sizeable amount of leg pain, specifically isolated to my right hamstring. I never hit the wall in this race, and I didn’t cramp up anytime, but I surely felt like it was a possibility. These two miles had me looking off into the distance, searching for any sign of where the Finish line might be. If I had known how to get back to the Start/Finish line, I would have surely left the course and gone there. I would have crossed the line and counted it as a Half marathon. I felt shame for even considering this as an option, but that is the degree of trouble I was completely aware of at this time.
Miles 19, 20, 21 took me to new dimensions of pain and suffering. While I was able to maintain hydration through the Powerade and water that was provided, I realized my energy stores were completely gone. My poor nutrition decisions the night previous were now playing their havoc on my ability to perform in the race. I never felt this at Disney a few weeks back, but I followed my nutrition plan in Disney, so it’s no wonder I had no problems there. Here, I didn’t do as good a job of being smart and fueling smart. And boys and girls, I was hurting for it.
When I reached Miles 22, 23 and 24, I started to feel actual stomach uneasiness. Now, this is a new phenomenon for me and I haven’t felt it more than once in a race before. I have no doubt I simply consumed too much Powerade and water along the course as I tried to supplement my poor pre-race fueling plan. At this point, I had to lay off the Powerade/water for a water stop or two, which only made the dehydration and energy loss worse. It’s like I said earlier, it’s a death-spiral once you get in this situation.
As Mile 25 rolled into view, I knew that I would finish the race, obviously. I began to concentrate on learning from my mistakes over the past 18 hours, and I swore I would NEVER, EVER let this happen again. At this point, the pain actually became a bit amusing. Realizing that I would have certainly laughed at someone else going through this same scenario, I came to see the humor in being so stupid about race decisions. This humor helped get me through Mile 25 (my slowest mile of the race)
I hit Mile 26 and saw my wife on the sidelines behind the barricade. She yelled, smiled and took a photo of me coming through the Finish chute. I’ve said in earlier blog posts and race reports that seeing her at the Finish line gives me the kick I need to finish strong…
Not this time… (sorry, babe) I just didn’t have anything left in me.
I crossed the line in 3:55:00. Utterly exhausted, completely broken and hurting, thoroughly elated to be done with this torture. I made my way to the food tables and stood over the fruit and GORGED on at least 4 oranges until there was nothing left but the peel…oh my goodness.. they were so, so good on an empty stomach…
Lessons to Learn
1. Do NOT do as I did on this day. Develop your plan and follow it. No excuses; No exceptions
2. Find your pace EARLY and stick with it. Don’t get caught up in the Start line hysteria. Run your race.
3. Find a pace group, if offered. Take the mental anguish out of pacing and just follow the guy/gal with the balloon on the dowel rod.
4. Plan for the contingencies. Consider what you will do if the unforeseen happens. Trust me; it DOES happen occasionally.
5. Even in the midst of suffering, relish the gift. There are many, many people that would gladly trade places with you and I for the chance to feel something, even suffering on a race course. Let’s not ever take that for granted. We have been given a gift. Lord, help me never to forget that.
Having spent so many blog posts talking about "pre race strategy", you would assume that I wouldn't make rookie mistakes.
Talking at length to other friends and runners about what to do, how to do it, and when to do it, one would casually attribute some level of expertise to me.
You'd be dead wrong on all counts.
Here goes...
T minus 24 hours and counting...All systems "GO"
My wife and I traveled to Birmingham Saturday around lunchtime. Our three boys were spending the weekend with my parents, so we had a nice Valentine's weekend/Chris-has-got-to-run-another-race adventure in the works. Everything was good. I had been following
my pre-race nutrition plan to include my tried and true 70/20/10 carbs/protein/fat consumption all Saturday. We had a nice lunch in town when we arrived, and I continued to supplement my intake with my Boost regimen.
We made it to the Expo at Boutwell Auditorium around 4:45pm, and I was able to pickup my packet, verify my D-Tag, and make a quick exit. All of this in less than 15 minutes, no less. After checking into the host hotel at the Start/Finish line, we moved our gear/luggage from the parking deck across the property, into our 4th floor room. At least, I THOUGHT we moved everything from the minivan. (Note: this assumption of mine will play a pivotal; albeit catastrophic role later Sunday morning) After some shopping that evening, we returned to our hotel room for the night.
I spent the usual 30 minutes getting my gear laid out for race morning. Plans called for temps around freezing on race morning, so I laid our a short sleeve compression shirt, short sleeve running shirt, armsleeves, race ready shorts, socks, running visor, Garmin, iPod and sunglasses. Everything ready for a nice brisk morning of running the urban streets of downtown Bham. Looking good so far.
It was now about 11pm (or so) and I realized that I didn’t see my remaining 3 bottles of Boost anywhere in the hotel room. At this point, my feeble, pea-sized brain realized that I had inadvertently left the Boost in the minivan.
Great.
…an intelligent man would, but not me.
Instead, I decided to myself that I was probably alright not to worry about the remaining Boost regimen. I didn’t want to have to schlep across the hotel property, down into the parking deck, etc…. I’m such a complete moron…At this point in our story, my fate is pretty well sealed. I have made a fundamental error in thinking, and my ability to show up at the Start line with a full glycogen tank is now impeded. As such, my ability to perform is diminished, and I’m completely oblivious to it.
Race Morning: Let’s make a couple of additional stupid mistakes, shall we?
I awaken from a good night’s sleep and start the routine of getting ready now. Nothing unusual here, and everything is going fine. I start to scrounge around looking for breakfast, and decide that I have failed to bring my standard breakfast items of wheat bagel and honey pb.
Brilliant.
Diet Dr. Pepper.
No comment needed.
I proceed down to the hotel lobby, eventually leading out to the Start corral, and find my place amongst the 6:30 min/mile runners. Too fast a crew to line up with? Yep. Did I do it anyway? Yep. Am I courting disaster by not going out at MY needed marathon pace? Yep.
…3…2…1 GO!
The starting gun is fired and the 7,241 runners lurch forward through the widening streets of downtown Birmingham. Because the marathon itself isn’t large enough to justify a corral/wave start, everyone starts together. Now, I’m not a fan of this because you just don’t know where to line up at the Start. Wanting to not get caught up behind slower runners, I chose to start out with a faster group of runners than I should have been aligned with. All of my good intentions of slowing down past the Start line and dropping down to my 8:22 pace never, ever happened. As is the norm for me, I found myself caught up in the first few miles of the race, and was just ripping it up from the outset. The crew I was running with was entirely too fast for my sub 3:40:00 goal time, and running with them was an exercise in spending too much energy on a pace I couldn’t maintain for 26.2 miles.
The downtown area is nothing but uphills/downhills and a few flat stretches. We were blasting the uphills and absolutely screaming down the downhills.. it was definitely a blast being out there. I didn’t really think too much about it until I hit the 5k timing mat. I crossed it only 1:00 off my 5k PR time, and that sounded an alarm in my head. I have been racing long enough to know that setting PR’s in a marathon should NOT happen. It shouldn’t even be close to happening. I should have crossed that 5k timing mat about 4 minutes off my PR if I had been sticking to my pacing plan. But even with this clock staring me in the face as I zipped past it, I STILL didn’t sense the degree of danger that I was running in. I knew I needed to slow down and settle into MY pace, but I didn’t sense the urgency of it.
Fast forward to the 10k mark. I crossed the 6.2 mile timing matt less than 50 seconds off my 10k PR time. Not only had I failed to slow myself down, I actually sped up in the process…
For the next 5-6 miles, I tried to slow my pace and settle into the 8:22 range. Because of the ongoing ups/downs of the race course, getting an accurate gauge on current pace was difficult. The Garmin just didn’t have an easy time splitting the averages of the slower uphill climbs coupled with the zippy downhill rips we were taking. I approached the 13.1 mile halfway point and was eager to see how much time I had managed to re-deposit into my tank.
Say hello to my new Half Marathon PR.
Apparently, I sped up after the 10k mark. I ran a new Half marathon PR by nearly 2 minutes. And let me say that my Half marathon PR was something I had worked HARD for a couple of years ago. I had trained for it exclusively. I had worked on it consistently. I didn’t expect it to fall for several years, and I beat it badly on the first half of a hilly, marathon course.
Can you just sense what is about to happen in the next few miles? Can’t you just see it coming?
The Dark Side of the Moon
At this point in our story, yours truly is realizing, in increasing degrees, the errors of his ways. I am now starting to feel some signs of minor fatigue, dehydration, and general lethargy as I approach the Miles 14-16. Aside from these realizations though, I reach the more disturbing conclusion that I am absolutely powerless to influence my own destiny in the coming 12 miles.
That was a slap in the face, and it was completely caused by my own bad decisions. From the night before until the present mile, I had crafted the disaster that was now falling on top of me, and I could do nothing more than shake my head, ask myself how I could have been so stupid, and pray (and I mean PRAY) for strength and grace as the pain started…
Miles 17-18 saw my body start to feel a fairly sizeable amount of leg pain, specifically isolated to my right hamstring. I never hit the wall in this race, and I didn’t cramp up anytime, but I surely felt like it was a possibility. These two miles had me looking off into the distance, searching for any sign of where the Finish line might be. If I had known how to get back to the Start/Finish line, I would have surely left the course and gone there. I would have crossed the line and counted it as a Half marathon. I felt shame for even considering this as an option, but that is the degree of trouble I was completely aware of at this time.
Miles 19, 20, 21 took me to new dimensions of pain and suffering. While I was able to maintain hydration through the Powerade and water that was provided, I realized my energy stores were completely gone. My poor nutrition decisions the night previous were now playing their havoc on my ability to perform in the race. I never felt this at Disney a few weeks back, but I followed my nutrition plan in Disney, so it’s no wonder I had no problems there. Here, I didn’t do as good a job of being smart and fueling smart. And boys and girls, I was hurting for it.
When I reached Miles 22, 23 and 24, I started to feel actual stomach uneasiness. Now, this is a new phenomenon for me and I haven’t felt it more than once in a race before. I have no doubt I simply consumed too much Powerade and water along the course as I tried to supplement my poor pre-race fueling plan. At this point, I had to lay off the Powerade/water for a water stop or two, which only made the dehydration and energy loss worse. It’s like I said earlier, it’s a death-spiral once you get in this situation.
As Mile 25 rolled into view, I knew that I would finish the race, obviously. I began to concentrate on learning from my mistakes over the past 18 hours, and I swore I would NEVER, EVER let this happen again. At this point, the pain actually became a bit amusing. Realizing that I would have certainly laughed at someone else going through this same scenario, I came to see the humor in being so stupid about race decisions. This humor helped get me through Mile 25 (my slowest mile of the race)
I hit Mile 26 and saw my wife on the sidelines behind the barricade. She yelled, smiled and took a photo of me coming through the Finish chute. I’ve said in earlier blog posts and race reports that seeing her at the Finish line gives me the kick I need to finish strong…
Not this time… (sorry, babe) I just didn’t have anything left in me.
I crossed the line in 3:55:00. Utterly exhausted, completely broken and hurting, thoroughly elated to be done with this torture. I made my way to the food tables and stood over the fruit and GORGED on at least 4 oranges until there was nothing left but the peel…oh my goodness.. they were so, so good on an empty stomach…
1. Do NOT do as I did on this day. Develop your plan and follow it. No excuses; No exceptions
2. Find your pace EARLY and stick with it. Don’t get caught up in the Start line hysteria. Run your race.
3. Find a pace group, if offered. Take the mental anguish out of pacing and just follow the guy/gal with the balloon on the dowel rod.
4. Plan for the contingencies. Consider what you will do if the unforeseen happens. Trust me; it DOES happen occasionally.
5. Even in the midst of suffering, relish the gift. There are many, many people that would gladly trade places with you and I for the chance to feel something, even suffering on a race course. Let’s not ever take that for granted. We have been given a gift. Lord, help me never to forget that.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
2011 Disney Marathon Race Report
It's been about two days since the race, and we have returned back home from a nice and warm central Florida to a moderately cold, ice-laden Georgia. Talk about a rude awakening. At any rate, the muscles are feeling pretty much back to normal and I plan on running again tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I think I have this race report thing ready to go, so here goes:
The Setup:
My wife, I and our three boys left home on Wednesday afternoon to make the drive to Orlando, FL, and we arrived sometime around 11:40pm Wednesday night. "The Plan" was to head to Disney Thursday morning and spend the day at the Magic Kingdom and check into our two rooms on Disney property late that afternoon. Everything worked perfectly and I ended up hitting the bed around 11pm Thursday night after at least 5 miles of walking throughout the Magic Kingdom. No problem though, it's Disney. That's what you're supposed to do when you are here.
Friday morning came and I decided that I just didn't feel the need to go for a run around the property, so I slept in a bit and tried to catch up on some rest. The drive took more out of me than anything else did, so it was nice to just chill until around 9 and head to Epcot afterwards. That was the plan and we executed it perfectly.
Fast forward about 10 hours and we arrive back at our rooms around 11pm and are in bed by midnight. Now, at this time I realize that I have not picked up my race packet at the ESPN Wide World of Sports complex. I'm not completely concerned because I know the lines are going to be horrendous anytime before Saturday. Since most of the runners are doing the Half Marathon on Saturday, my thought is that by waiting to pick up my packet until Saturday midday, I will have already missed a majority of the people that would be needing to pickup their Half Marathon packets.
Brilliant, huh?
So, we drove over to WWoS and did the packet pickup thing. No problems, and yes, I was definitely slotted in Corral A. That's all good. Timing chip verified, goody bag picked up, t-shirt size correct, we're good for "Go" on Sunday morning. We spend the rest of the day in Disney's Hollywood Studios and get back to our rooms around 10pm Saturday night.
I did well at fueling on Saturday. My usual regimen of Boost meal supplements spread across the day helped build up my glycogen stores, and a nice pasta meal Saturday night helped tide things over until morning. Before turning in Saturday night, I laid out my race attire, nutrition, accessories, etc. for an early (and I mean EARLY) send-off. I knew temps would not be particularly cold before the race started, but the fact that I would be standing out in the elements for around 2 hours necessitated that I have some throwaway gear.
Finally went to sleep around 10:45pm Saturday night and was awakened by a lovely wake-up call at 3:10am Sunday morning. Fortunately, four hours of sleep is about all I am accustomed to getting, so I was wide awake and ready to roll. I was able to eat my usual half-bagel with honey peanut butter and a strawberry NutriGran bar, get dressed, grab by drop bag, kiss my wife, and head out the door toward the buses.
Let's Race!
I was lined up in the front half of Corral A as the starting gun/fireworks went off, and I crossed the line within 45 seconds. With that, the race began.
One thing to mention regards the fact that on the previous day, I began to notice that my right ankle was experiencing some tenderness (bordering on pain) in the connective tissue on the top of my foot. This is an area that I injured many years ago while shooting basketball. It was hurting Saturday afternoon enough that I actually took my shoe off to massage it and see if I could isolate the pains location. I realized that it was likely due to significant amount of walking and standing that I had been doing as we went through the parks all day for the past 3 days, but I had hoped that the pain would be gone overnight before the race on Sunday.
So the pain was still present before I hit the Start line. While I wasn't overly worried about this fact, I can definitely say that it had my attention. For the first mile, I spent a considerable amount of effort on trying to modify my footstrike to see if I could offset the offending movement. Nothing seemed to make a difference, but I kept trying different footstrike patterns. Heel-strike, forefoot-strike, midfoot... the experiment continued. At the end of Mile 1, I realized I had absolutely no control over this problem, nor on how this race was going to progress. Believe me when I tell you that I began to earnestly pray about this pain I was feeling. I knew that I was absolutely powerless to effect my own solution to this, so I prayed.
...and I prayed.
And I completely lost track of the pain. Seriously. I didn't even think about it again until after the race was over.
So, at Mile 2, I began to pay attention to my pace and efficiency. Because I was started in Corral A, I had no problems whatsoever with weaving in and out of other runners. I was placed right behind the 3:30 pace group and we were all holding a comfortable 8:20 pace. I elected not to carry my own hydration, so I took Gatorade at every other aid station from Mile 2 until Mile 21.
Miles 3-13.1 passed effortlessly. I would glance down at my Garmin every couple hundred yards, see that I was still on pace at around 8:25, and just zone back out to the podcast I was listening to on my iPod. I had begun to warm up, but still wore my armsleeves and gloves. I crossed the 13.1 halfway mark at 1:49:22, so I knew I was still in solid shape for a good race, assuming I held everything together and that nothing catastrophic happened on the back side of the course.
Miles 13.1-18 sailed by pretty quickly, even though this is perhaps the most boring part of the course. It's just a few stretches of "nothing" as you approach Animal Kingdom. I maintained pace without too much effort and began to think about the fact that I was feeling incredibly strong in spite of pushing hard. This became something that really began to make me push even harder on my pace, and my splits show that. Some of my fastest mile splits were recorded after Mile 17. Luckily, I was able reign it back in and keep my pace where it was supposed to be.
Around Mile 19, I began to see some fellow runners feeling the effects of 19 miles on their legs. Several runners were cramping up on the side of the road, walking and stretching to try and gain some relief. It only got worse as the remaining miles rolled off. I still felt strong at this point, and had begun to think about possible finish times. I knew the danger in allowing my thoughts to venture down that path, so I tried to keep my focus on "this present mile" and nothing else. That seemed to help, as it normally does.
I don't recall much occurring between Miles 20-24, but I did come to the realization that my North Face technical shirt was encrusted in salt crystals. This is the tell-tale sign that dehydration was setting in, so I began taking hydration at every aid station up until Mile 25. When we crossed from Hollywood Studios onto the Boardwalk leading to the Beach Club and Yacht Club resorts, I really started to push the pace harder. I knew the Finish line was getting closer, and I was determined that I would expend every last ounce of energy I had on my trek toward it. Pushing the pace hard, but trying to remain in control for the final mile.
At Mile 25, I was settled into the final kick of the race, and then ...something happened.
A guy pulls alongside of me on my right, and surges about 3 feet ahead of me. I can't explain what it was, but this cat trying to punk me so close to the finish, just lit a fire underneath me.
I kicked hard and blew by him. I gained a 10 foot lead on him, and just dropped the hammer. I knew I had about a mile to go before the Finish line, but I wasn't about to let this guy out-kick me at the end. I kept pushing and pushing, and I kept looking for a shadow that was trailing me, but I never saw it coming closer. When I hit the Mile 26 marker, I could literally hear the crowds at the Finish line.
That was it. I ripped off my gloves and threw them to the ground. I shedded my armsleeves quickly and threw them to the side. I didn't want ANYTHING constraining me for these final few moments. It was now an all-out, full-burn, empty-the-stinking-tank effort the rest of the way in...
As I rounded the next curve, I saw the gospel choir singing at the final turn, just before the homestretch to the Finish line.
I pumped my arms for everything I was worth, I leaned hard into the run, pushed my legs as hard as I ever have, I continuously sucked in big gulps of air and I sprinted my way toward the Finish line, arms raised, infused by the crowd of fans, overjoyed by the realization of a goal I have been working toward for over 12 weeks....
...and I crossed the tape in a net time of 3:43:57, a new PR by nearly 9 minutes.
I found my wife and our three sons after picking up some nutrition, a shiny medal and a much needed can of Diet Coke, and with that, got the kiss I was wanting, from the one I wanted it from.
For possibly the first time in my running life, I am absolutely certain that I left it ALL on the course that day. That my training was solid, consistent and effective, that my race day strategy took it all into consideration. Every race is different, we all know that. Some races go well. Some don't go well at all. For me, Disney 2011 unfolded flawlessly, and for that I'm grateful. I'm even more grateful for the gift that God has given me to do what I love, with the family I love.
My Conclusion:
Life is good.
The Setup:
Friday morning came and I decided that I just didn't feel the need to go for a run around the property, so I slept in a bit and tried to catch up on some rest. The drive took more out of me than anything else did, so it was nice to just chill until around 9 and head to Epcot afterwards. That was the plan and we executed it perfectly.
Fast forward about 10 hours and we arrive back at our rooms around 11pm and are in bed by midnight. Now, at this time I realize that I have not picked up my race packet at the ESPN Wide World of Sports complex. I'm not completely concerned because I know the lines are going to be horrendous anytime before Saturday. Since most of the runners are doing the Half Marathon on Saturday, my thought is that by waiting to pick up my packet until Saturday midday, I will have already missed a majority of the people that would be needing to pickup their Half Marathon packets.
Brilliant, huh?
So, we drove over to WWoS and did the packet pickup thing. No problems, and yes, I was definitely slotted in Corral A. That's all good. Timing chip verified, goody bag picked up, t-shirt size correct, we're good for "Go" on Sunday morning. We spend the rest of the day in Disney's Hollywood Studios and get back to our rooms around 10pm Saturday night.
Finally went to sleep around 10:45pm Saturday night and was awakened by a lovely wake-up call at 3:10am Sunday morning. Fortunately, four hours of sleep is about all I am accustomed to getting, so I was wide awake and ready to roll. I was able to eat my usual half-bagel with honey peanut butter and a strawberry NutriGran bar, get dressed, grab by drop bag, kiss my wife, and head out the door toward the buses.
Let's Race!
I was lined up in the front half of Corral A as the starting gun/fireworks went off, and I crossed the line within 45 seconds. With that, the race began.
One thing to mention regards the fact that on the previous day, I began to notice that my right ankle was experiencing some tenderness (bordering on pain) in the connective tissue on the top of my foot. This is an area that I injured many years ago while shooting basketball. It was hurting Saturday afternoon enough that I actually took my shoe off to massage it and see if I could isolate the pains location. I realized that it was likely due to significant amount of walking and standing that I had been doing as we went through the parks all day for the past 3 days, but I had hoped that the pain would be gone overnight before the race on Sunday.
So the pain was still present before I hit the Start line. While I wasn't overly worried about this fact, I can definitely say that it had my attention. For the first mile, I spent a considerable amount of effort on trying to modify my footstrike to see if I could offset the offending movement. Nothing seemed to make a difference, but I kept trying different footstrike patterns. Heel-strike, forefoot-strike, midfoot... the experiment continued. At the end of Mile 1, I realized I had absolutely no control over this problem, nor on how this race was going to progress. Believe me when I tell you that I began to earnestly pray about this pain I was feeling. I knew that I was absolutely powerless to effect my own solution to this, so I prayed.
...and I prayed.
And I completely lost track of the pain. Seriously. I didn't even think about it again until after the race was over.
Miles 3-13.1 passed effortlessly. I would glance down at my Garmin every couple hundred yards, see that I was still on pace at around 8:25, and just zone back out to the podcast I was listening to on my iPod. I had begun to warm up, but still wore my armsleeves and gloves. I crossed the 13.1 halfway mark at 1:49:22, so I knew I was still in solid shape for a good race, assuming I held everything together and that nothing catastrophic happened on the back side of the course.
Miles 13.1-18 sailed by pretty quickly, even though this is perhaps the most boring part of the course. It's just a few stretches of "nothing" as you approach Animal Kingdom. I maintained pace without too much effort and began to think about the fact that I was feeling incredibly strong in spite of pushing hard. This became something that really began to make me push even harder on my pace, and my splits show that. Some of my fastest mile splits were recorded after Mile 17. Luckily, I was able reign it back in and keep my pace where it was supposed to be.
Around Mile 19, I began to see some fellow runners feeling the effects of 19 miles on their legs. Several runners were cramping up on the side of the road, walking and stretching to try and gain some relief. It only got worse as the remaining miles rolled off. I still felt strong at this point, and had begun to think about possible finish times. I knew the danger in allowing my thoughts to venture down that path, so I tried to keep my focus on "this present mile" and nothing else. That seemed to help, as it normally does.
I don't recall much occurring between Miles 20-24, but I did come to the realization that my North Face technical shirt was encrusted in salt crystals. This is the tell-tale sign that dehydration was setting in, so I began taking hydration at every aid station up until Mile 25. When we crossed from Hollywood Studios onto the Boardwalk leading to the Beach Club and Yacht Club resorts, I really started to push the pace harder. I knew the Finish line was getting closer, and I was determined that I would expend every last ounce of energy I had on my trek toward it. Pushing the pace hard, but trying to remain in control for the final mile.
At Mile 25, I was settled into the final kick of the race, and then ...something happened.
A guy pulls alongside of me on my right, and surges about 3 feet ahead of me. I can't explain what it was, but this cat trying to punk me so close to the finish, just lit a fire underneath me.
I kicked hard and blew by him. I gained a 10 foot lead on him, and just dropped the hammer. I knew I had about a mile to go before the Finish line, but I wasn't about to let this guy out-kick me at the end. I kept pushing and pushing, and I kept looking for a shadow that was trailing me, but I never saw it coming closer. When I hit the Mile 26 marker, I could literally hear the crowds at the Finish line.
That was it. I ripped off my gloves and threw them to the ground. I shedded my armsleeves quickly and threw them to the side. I didn't want ANYTHING constraining me for these final few moments. It was now an all-out, full-burn, empty-the-stinking-tank effort the rest of the way in...
I pumped my arms for everything I was worth, I leaned hard into the run, pushed my legs as hard as I ever have, I continuously sucked in big gulps of air and I sprinted my way toward the Finish line, arms raised, infused by the crowd of fans, overjoyed by the realization of a goal I have been working toward for over 12 weeks....
...and I crossed the tape in a net time of 3:43:57, a new PR by nearly 9 minutes.
I found my wife and our three sons after picking up some nutrition, a shiny medal and a much needed can of Diet Coke, and with that, got the kiss I was wanting, from the one I wanted it from.
For possibly the first time in my running life, I am absolutely certain that I left it ALL on the course that day. That my training was solid, consistent and effective, that my race day strategy took it all into consideration. Every race is different, we all know that. Some races go well. Some don't go well at all. For me, Disney 2011 unfolded flawlessly, and for that I'm grateful. I'm even more grateful for the gift that God has given me to do what I love, with the family I love.
My Conclusion:
Life is good.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Callaway Gardens Twilight 10k Race Report
With the Disney Marathon (Jan 9, 2011) being my goal race for the coming racing season, my training has been revolving around preparation for that race. I found myself wanting to get a decent shakeout race sometime this month, and the Twilight 10k fit the bill perfectly.
Since it's held less than 20 miles from our front door, it's a great race venue. Plus, it's a favorite long-run destination of mine (Callaway Gardens). I've run it each time during the past few years, and it's a simple, sorta-flat 6.2 mile course. Great scenery and about 500 fellow runners made this one I had to race.
Lined up in the front 5-6 people, the guns goes off, and so do we. I tuck in behind good ole Dave and we're ripping along on our way at about 6:15 pace. After the past couple of tempo runs since Thursday, this pace felt pretty easy, and my spirits were high. Unfortunately, my intellect wasn't running on high at that moment in the race.
I lined up at the race starting area with about 6 minutes to spare (cutting it close, I know...) Ran into a friend of mine from town that is considerably faster than I. Dave runs about 6:20 pace, while I'm closer to 7:15 pace for a 10k race. Somehow, I come up with the idea that I can pace with Dave for the entirety of the 10k. It's only 6.2 miles, right? No big deal. I'll just tuck in behind him and hang on 'til the Finish.
...uh, yeah.
Lined up in the front 5-6 people, the guns goes off, and so do we. I tuck in behind good ole Dave and we're ripping along on our way at about 6:15 pace. After the past couple of tempo runs since Thursday, this pace felt pretty easy, and my spirits were high. Unfortunately, my intellect wasn't running on high at that moment in the race.Crossed Miles 1 and 2 while still nailing about 6:25 pace for each. I was still tucked behind Dave (this wouldn't last much longer, trust me:)), but I was beginning to remember that my training, unlike Dave's, wasn't for shorter distance races such as this. Dave is a fast guy and runs 5ks and 10ks much faster than I ever have. The reason for this is partially because he's a faster runner, part of it is also due to the fact that he trains at those distances. I came to the sudden realization that I was running Dave's race, not my own. I quickly realized that this was an epic mistake on my part at the start of the race. Rookie mistake to run someone else's race, and I definitely should have known better.
By Mile 3, I was feeling the side effects of running at a pace that was outside my training. That was my classic "dummy moment" for this race.
Long story short, but I finally settled into a 7:15 pace and hung on through Miles 3-6.2 and crossed the Finish line in 44:58 (or something close to it). Since this race didn't use chip/bib timing, the Finish line clock was what was used for results. Not entirely certain as to the accuracy of the time keeping, but no matter. Great race, even after my silly belief that I could run with the front of the pack.
Actually, I DID run with the front of the pack.
...for 2.5 miles at least...:)
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