Friday
afternoon I drove with my little-A girls to Springville. We stayed with a friend and spent the
afternoon picking strawberries, playing with little kids, and watching
movies. We had the obligatory
spaghetti dinner, and retired around 10.
For the
first time in 3 marathons, my sleep was horrible. I know I slept some, but never deeply or in such a way to be
refreshed. No matter; I never plan
on sleeping well the night before, and try to make up for it by sleeping extra
the week preceding a race. At 2:10
I was wide awake. I lay there for
a time, thinking about the race, trying to come up with a plan that had thus
far eluded me. Still nothing. I got up and ate oatmeal with Nate and
Liz, plus 4 pieces of toast. We
got all our items gathered and left for the buses around 3.
The bus was
unusually warm, which was strange.
The heater wasn’t on. I
lowered the window, and was surprised at the warm air blowing in. Even as we climbed up to Wallsburg, the
temp didn’t drop much. It was
around 55 at the start; I wish it was 10 degrees cooler. I managed 2 POP stops, including one at
5:58. I made it to the line just
in time for the cannon shot, and we were off.
Miles 1-5 I ran with
a guy named Ben. He was a marathon
rookie with big plans for a 6:50 pace.
At mile 3 he bumped into me.
A few minutes later I checked my watch. It had turned off, and I lost three minutes. No big deal. At this stage I’m still running without a plan, so having an
accurate Garmin didn’t matter. He
was more conversational than I was, and we ran side by side until he noticed
the pace drifting in the 7’s. He
asked if I wanted to come along, and I told him good luck. I figured (incorrectly) he’d come back
to me in the end. I wasn’t feeling
ready to take my perceived effort level any higher. It ends up he executed pretty well--I saw him in the
finisher’s area and he came in at 3:04.
These miles felt fine; not effortless, but not hard at all.
Miles 6-11
I don’t
know the exact moment we picked up the wind, but during these miles it became
very noticeable, then troublesome, then discouraging. Combined with the sustained climbing sections, things slowed
down quite a bit. I was also
noticing some stomach issues that seemed to manifest themselves a few minutes
after passing each aid station. It
wasn’t too serious, at least not as serious as the woman who “hid” behind a
telephone pole and took care of business.
I guess she figured all the runners were too focused on hitting their
splits they wouldn’t pay her much mind. At one point, I considered leaving the course and
bushwacking down to an outhouse, but just kept running. I had a 5 hr energy at mile 9, and
gagged down one Gu chomp.
The wind
blew. It shifted in inopportune
ways, staying a headwind, no matter which way the road turned. The canyon was funneling the breeze
right at the runners. I finally
got smart and tucked in behind a tall guy. As we passed other runners I told them to tuck in. We got a group of 7-8 together and took
turns pulling against the wind.
This helped a lot, mentally if little else. At least we weren’t running alone. I remember being “knocked” off balance once by a cross breeze,
so this wasn’t an insignificant factor.
I’d guess it was sustained 20-25 mph for at least 10 miles in the
canyon, and still a headwind on University, but less intense. I kept hoping the canyon walls would
shield us, but with rare exceptions, it blew in my face from the highway to the
finish.
Miles 12-18
As I neared
the half, I was still with a group, a bit ahead of the 3:05 pacer. My gut was really complaining, and I
ducked into a POP at mile 13. (1.5
minutes) No joy. That excuse gone for good, I crossed
the half at 1:32 on neighboring Garmins, but 1:35 on the clock. Still running without a plan, one began
to take shape. I didn’t figure I’d
negative split the marathon. Let
me put it another way. My chances
of negative split were zero, unless I got a ride. But 3:0x was definitely in sight. I knew the wind was taking a toll, and although I’d reached
the halfway point, the work wasn’t half done. So 3:0x it was.
My watch was screwed up with mile markers, so I had stopped checking it,
except for pace. My POP stop lost
me my group, but I soon found others of their ilk, and we continued down the
canyon, sometimes drafting, running horrible tangents while the traffic raced
by. An iPod might have helped
during these miles, but probably not, as the noise from the cars and trucks,
not to mention the whistling wind would have made listening a chore
itself.
Miles 19-23
The
character revealing miles. “I’ve
run 19 miles. I’ve gone pretty
fast. It’s &#*@ windy. My stomach hurts. I need to puke. This sucks. I’m not going to be able to stay at this pace.” While bombarding myself with these
positive affirmations, the 3:05 guy passed me. “No problem.
3:05 would be nice, but for you, today, that wasn’t in the cards.” It was actually kind of encouraging. That doesn’t make any sense, but it did
at the time. I felt encouraged
that the 3:05 guy was dropping me like a bad habit. Maybe I should have eaten more. At this point I had 50 calories of chomps, two 5 hour energy
and a few oz of powerade. My gut
felt horrible. I thought, “If I
can just puke my guts out, I’ll feel better.” My effort level felt really high, but the pace wasn’t there. At this point, I saw Tara. She ran with me for a mile, and was
very encouraging. She helped me
hold off the walking demon an extra mile.
After she left, I ran on until she went by me in her car. Once she was out of sight, I could walk
without shame; and I did, except for the sign I put on my back that said “Smack
me if I’m walking.” Instead of
smacks, I got a few pats on the back, and some encouragement. I have 7 separate minute-ish,
embarrassing walking spikes on my graph.
“You are giving away too many seconds. You have to keep running! Run! Run, you
lazy &&#@! You didn’t do all
this training to walk in another one!” I tried to screw my courage to the sticking place and
PERSIST! but each time my gut would respond unfavorably. For shame.
To the end
By now I
was close enough to the finish to smell the barn. I regrouped a bit, and ran the last 5k in 23 minutes,
including a 6:50 final mile. At
that point in the race, I guess I finally believed I could go hard for that
many more minutes, whereas at mile 19, there was too much distance remaining
for me to be able to convince myself.
Also, when the 3:10 pacer went by me by himself, I thought, “No.
Freaking. Way.” I latched on to
him, following for a mile. He
seemed to be rasping and struggling, so I passed him and ran on, gaining speed,
watching the big blue arch get closer.
Tara appeared again, and encouraged me to greater effort, pointing out
three runners for me to catch.
Thanks, Tara, I caught
them.
The time
when I crossed was 3 minutes off, just like at the half. ???? I entered my bib at a tent, and was rewarded with a 3:10:16. Results still aren’t online, but I hope
my official time is lower. I beat
the 3:10 guy, after all…shouldn’t that translate to a 3:0x?
At the finish,
I saw my parents, ate some Creamies, had a Dew, and watched the other
finishers. Nate’s parents took us
back to his house, where we fed the kids, got cleaned up, and came on
home. The girls watched Wallace
and Grommit while I drove, trying to keep my knee from locking up. Traffic was great. I set the cruise control in the carpool
lane, and never did anything except follow the road.
By 5 p.m.,
my appetite returned. Luckily, I
was at Mandarin at the time. I
left before dessert; my legs would not tolerate sitting anymore. The 1.2 mile walk home seemed like a
good idea. Today I’m very sore,
but nothing a week won’t cure.
Great sleep last night, that’s for sure.
I know this
is long, but marathons give me a lot to think about. Life is full of ups and downs, steady times, and grueling
moments. I had it all today. I’m not ecstatic about the result, but
I recognize how fortunate I am to be able to toe the line and run as well as I
can, AS WELL AS I CAN. I think I
gave 95% today. It wasn’t the
full-final, but it was a reasonable effort. Today it was a headwind that dampened my spirits, and added a
level of challenge beyond just the distance.
Life presents
a variety of obstacles that deter us from finishing well. I love what the marathon is teaching me
about overcoming myself AND enduring on the way to a strong finish.
| 