It was a great day, textbook fast-time running conditions and I beat my A goal by 11 minutes. BQ by more than 5 minutes for my current age group as well as a Monday qualifier for my new age group in 2015. Can't believe my age group placing, it is a guess but I saw the sheet in the runners area and it cut off at 45th place, which was a 3:33. Don't have splits, but I remember seeing about 1:57 on the clock at the half, which means 1:54 chip time, which means 1:40 on the second half (my 4th-fastest half marathon time), possibly a 14-minute negative split. Couldn't be happier, the running gods owed me one. Here is the rest of the report, with updated offical statistics. Sorry for the length, it's for my own records:
Traveled to St. George with my son Austin. Got him to come on the promise that we would do a show on Saturday night in Vegas, last minute plane ticket was expensive but worth it. Made the expo but got skunked on the drawing at the SGM booth. My bib number was 1267, second fastest non-elite line -- I wondered what time I could have possibly written down in my registration to get a bib number that low. I was embarrassed but not enough to ask for a higher number. The hotel was happy to cancel my reservation for the second night, but insisted that I be out at noon. Ordinarily, they said, there would be some flexibility but not this time, because of the marathon. Isn’t that backwards? I was put out, but I carb loaded at a local Italian place, bought a bagel and banana and went to bed at a reasonable hour.
Slept OK for 5 hours, ate half a bagel and the banana, then caught what looked like the first bus at about 4:10, intending to sleep at the start line. I brought a down bag and three layers of clothing. But everything was fenced off, couldn’t get out into the trees. Bedded down behind the PoPs, pretty comfortable in the grass, not much wind. Then I texted my brother-in-law Byron and he was already set up behind the fire truck, so I moved over there. The ground was colder and the wind was cutting through the bag and all my layers. But it was still better than moving around in the cold or shivering at the fire pits and using up energy. I was starting to feel my flu symptoms return from earlier in the week. With 40 minutes to go I got in line for the PoP and met a guy my age from S. Jordan who was running his 27th St. George. Finished with 5 minutes to go, hurried back to the fire truck and woke up Byron, who was somehow relaxed enough to sleep. Hurried and packed my stuff, and took off all warm clothing except my beanie and gloves. But with my frozen hands I couldn’t get my down bag back into the stuff sack, then tried to cram it all into the drop bag and the top ripped. Took it all to the truck anyway, they threw it in and in the pandemonium I could see my bag spilling out. The horn had already sounded, so I decided to worry about everything later, though I was glad I had left the cell phone on in case I had to call it. I worked around the fence and was immediately in the shuffle to the start line.
I brought ibuprofen because of my injured left hip, was quite worried that it would go squirrely on me and I wouldn’t be able to finish. Took 200 mg at mile 3 or 4 (dry swallow but I got it down) when my hip started to bother me on some of the initial rollers, and then a precautionary one again at mile 11. Stopped for Gatorade at miles 5, 15 and 21, two healthy swigs each time, no other liquids. Ate two pickle slices going up the hill at mile 18 when my right ham started to feel tight; it went away almost immediately. I had tissue in case I needed to make a detour into the trees instead of waiting in line, but never quite reached that point. That was it, I travelled light of stomach and light of pockets.
I ran very slowly to start, but felt better immediately upon crossing the start line, it felt great to be finally moving. I was now doing something familiar. I heard somebody talking and it appeared that my offset from the gun was somewhere between 3:00 and 3:30. Everything except my frozen toes felt fine, and they were OK as well after two miles.
I also ran without a watch, as I have been threatening to do. Didn’t even pack one. My Garmin has cratered and I haven’t fixed it yet. This was a non-crucial race in terms of condition level and BQ potential, so I took the opportunity to see what would happen running by feel, rather than borrowing a watch, buying a cheap lap timer, or resorting to number of available options. Shortly after the start I heard a pacer talking and looked back to see balloons and a 3:45 sign. They passed me in the first mile or two. I thought it might be a good goal to keep him in my sights. I stayed close until the bottom of Veyo, where he announced that his overall pace goal was 8:32, and that he had banked a minute for the trip up the hill. I was thinking that wasn’t a good idea, everybody knows you don’t bank time on this course. But I couldn’t criticize him too much, since 3:45 was my A goal and yet there I was right there with him. They got pretty far ahead of me going up the hill, which I ran very, very slowly on the steep part, but they were never out of sight. I was trying to do math in my head to figure out how fast I was going, but I couldn’t catch all the mile markers and clocks, plus I could never remember the previous reading by the time I got to the next one. But it seemed I was comfortably below 9:00 and the proximity of the pacer seemed to confirm that, assuming he was running accurately.
At the bottom of Veyo I wondered what my heart rate was and decided on 143. I was barely working. Picked it up slightly at the top at mile 9 for the remaining lesser climb into the half. The 3:45 group was a couple of minutes ahead at the half, which I was happy with. But I figured he would pick it up so I did too. After mile 14 the course drops off the face of the earth. I was careful to land almost completely forefoot, avoiding all heel contact if possible in order to preserve my left hip. By mile 15 The Pacer was a little closer and I decided it was time to gamble; I closed the gap, catching him at mile 16. He was still close enough at 16.2 that I heard his dramatic announcement of 10 miles to go, if you’re on this course to begin with then you can certainly run 10 more miles. Have heard all of that before, but honestly, this thing was speeding by, no mental torture at all.
But I did take the opportunity to speed up again, resolving to keep him behind me as long as possible. I figured the deeper into the race I was before he caught me, the closer I would be to 3:45 and the further away from missing a 3:55 qualifying time. I sped up further at mile 19 or so after cresting the last hill, still felt OK, still slapping palms and thanking the spectators, my family, all my friends, the Academy, etc. Kept looking for the 3:40 pacer whenever I had a good view down the course, but I never found him/her because, as I found out later, he/she didn’t exist. They were pacing only in 10 minute increments, not 5. I was chasing a phantom.
I continued to feel good, slapping palms all the way through mile 23, when I decided to speed up one last time for the final 5K. I had been passing runners 2 or 3 at a time since the half, now I was doing it 4 or 5 at a time; I realized later it was not because I was fast, but because everybody else my speed was already done. Couldn’t do much math until I saw the clock at mile 24 and counting backwards I realized I was almost a lock to break 3:40 if I could maintain any reasonable pace, which got me pretty excited. I really put it down then, but despite all this "acceleration", my average pace for the last 10K was actually a little bit slower than for the third 10K (see below). Started pumping my fist at every band I passed, and exhibiting other unsportsmanlike and juvenile conduct. A brief moment of overwhelming exhaustion at 24.5, but then I passed another band somewhere in there and I was good to the finish. Loved those bands today. My son Clint tracked me online, and is showing these splits at all the mats on the course:
10K: 8:33/mile
13.1: 1:53:36; 8:40/mile cumulative, 8:46/mile for segment
30K: 2:36:35; 8:20/mile cumulative, 7:38/mile for segment
42.2K: 3:34:04, 8:10/mile cumulative, 7:42/mile for segment
The clock at the finish line said 3:37 and some change, and I knew I had almost certainly broken 3:35, negative split of 13:06, not 14 like I originally thought. I over-celebrated crossing the mat, then bent over and cried for a minute. I’m a sensitive guy. I came within three and a half minutes of my PR yet I felt more like I had run a vigorous 20-miler. I was looking for food instead of a place to throw up. Found Austin, then lost him. Went to the drop bag and found that all of the contents had survived, including my cell phone. Hooked up with Austin, walked 6 blocks to the car, drove to the hotel, showered and checked out at 11:58, that was the closest call of the day. Large hamburger, fries and root beer float at Smashburger with Byron and his colleague from the biology department at BYU, along with his colleague’s family. Called Clint and confirmed my chip time.
Drove to Vegas, made the broadcast of the night session of the LDS general conference, and then saw the Blue Man show with Austin, which I highly recommend (both Austin and Blue Man). Out of the blue, they announced me as the inventor of the Whack-a-Mole. I blamed my wife for setting me up, but she denies any connection to the fraud. In bed by midnight Pacific time, only 22 hours after waking up.
The day I got my PR was on this course it was 81 degrees at the finish line. Adjusting for weather differences I think I would have run a 3:24 that day instead of 3:30, so today was probably about 10 minutes off my best marathon. Further, unbelievably, I finished 51st in my age group, out of 275 -- looking through the list, they came from all over, but I wouldn’t have thought there was any marathon where I could finish that low, even Boston. But all of a sudden there are a lot of fast old birds wherever I race. Time to step up my game if I can. I am sure this must have been a fast day for everybody, but it was memorable nonetheless, one of my three best races. I am thankful to have this one to remember.
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