Pondering Plans

I seem to be recovering pretty quickly from Saturday's marathon. I'm still riding a bit of a high, and it's got me thinking more about what's next. This is somewhat of an unexpected result, as I thought I'd be pretty eager to just take it easy for a while, even forgo running for a couple of months. It's great what a motivating factor a race can be. You run poorly, and you convince yourself you can do better. You run strongly, same result.

There is a transition factor here where I just kind of play it by ear for a month or two, with no real specific goals. This is a very convenient excuse for me to rest my various nagging injury issues, which are on the retreat but still lingering. Mainly my left shin and right IT band. I'd be foolish not to take this opportunity to rest and allow them to fully heal. This would probably involve a couple of return visits to my PT just to establish some corrective exercises I could do on my own.

During my training runs with Rob (who has become a pretty consistent training partner) I mentioned I'd like to skip another marathon this year and try some speedy shorter fall races, up to the half-marathon. This would set me up to build to an early spring marathon next year. The shorter races are appealing mainly as a change of pace (literally) but also because it's an area in which I haven't focused before. The short races I've run in the past have been either for fun or as part of a longer-term training goal. Might be fun to pick out a short race and focus my training toward it. Those 5- and 10k PRs could use some revising.

On the other hand, I could still incorporate some shorter races into a late fall marathon goal as long as I planned it appropriately. The attractive thing here is that I could ride out my current base of longer runs after a low-key July. Philly marathon is in November. Marine Corps is October - registration is closed but I might be able to get a charity entry.

Thursday morning I fly down to Orlando to visit my extended family. I expect nothing short of a relaxing long weekend by the pool and oceanside. Perhaps I'll look at a calendar and work out some options for the fall season.

As far as training goes for the next month, I'm not running until I feel confident that my left shin is healed. It didn't bother me during the marathon but this had partly to do with 1) ibuprofen and 2) adrenaline. Surprisingly it feels better now than before the race, so perhaps it's really on the mend. Otherwise, I biked to and from work yesterday and plan to do the same today and tomorrow. A few visits to the pool are also in order to rekindle my swimming technique. My annual trip to SW Ontario is next month and as always, I want to be in shape to swim the blue waters of Huron.

2011 Grandma's Marathon, Part 2 (The Perfect 23-mile Race)

A couple of flights today gave me some time to digest Sunday's marathon. The big thought on my mind is how to interpret and critique my performance. On one hand it solidified and justified a very tough stretch of months for me leading up to this. Just finishing the thing and earning the right to blog about it here is very gratifying. On the flip side, however, I wonder if my tactics yesterday were a text book example of going out too fast and the resultant inevitability of a crash and burn.

In lieu of a mile-by-mile analysis, I'll describe the rough breakdown that took shape mentally over the course of 26.2. My state of mind at the start was heavily influenced by the almost perfect conditions: temperatures in the mid-40s, overcast, and a slight tailwind. I had two pace bands on: a 3:20 and a 3:10 finish. I knew I had an opportunity for a good run, and the decision was made: hop in with the 3:10 pace group and see what happens. Mentally that pace seemed just right and it aligned with my expectations of myself. If it felt too fast by the 10k mark I would slow a bit.

I started a few meters from the starting mat. This contrasted with this race in 2003 when I began way back and it took me several minutes to cross the starting mat after the gunshot. It was a matter of seconds this time.

By 10 or 15 minutes into the run, my fears of slogging through with the discomfort of shin splints had gone out the window. I guess the taper was just enough rest to calm them down. In this same stretch, and up to about mile 3, I reconsidered my strategy for the day and wondered if I should fall back to the 3:20 pace group. I didn't get any warmup in before the run besideds stretching and I suppose it took me a few miles to get in the groove. Up until that point I wondered if I was working just a bit too hard to maintain the pace for 3+ hours.

But at just after the 3-mile mark I was markedly cruising. The group I was running with was almost spot on to the second in terms of pacing for a 3:10 finish. Let's just relax, I thought, and see what happens.

During mile 6 or 7 I remember a rush of energy that also coincided with the passing of the first real crowd. I welled up a bit with the recognition of the meaning of the race for me, but this was the most sentimental I got for the rest of the run.

Somewhere before mile 8 a freight train passed along the tracks running parallel to the course. The symbolism was perfect as it coincided with how I felt: solid, momentous, incapable of being slowed. I let it fuel my run, drawing upon the analogies of steadiness, rhythm. Passed the 8-mile mark in 57:52, again just a hair ahead of the 3:10 pacing.

The halfway point came quickly (13-mile mark was 1:34:20) and we were still right on pace. I wondered what would happen between miles 13 and 20, as I expected this would be a tough stretch mentally. I just continued on, feeling pretty confident. Mile 15 passed in 7:12, for a total time of 1:48:32 up to that point. Still on pace.

Over the next few miles I adopted a mile-by-mile tactic, and this was a mental relief more than anything. Just a few more minutes until the next split, I told myself. I was beginning to feel some physical fatigue, especially in my glutes (strangely). Up until mile 17 my nutrition and hydration had been right on (100 calories every 6 miles or so, plus water and/or powerade at every station), but I missed the free gel at this mile and it threw me off a bit. This was the first time in the race I really sensed a falter. 9 more miles. 9 more miles? Damn, this was beginning to feel daunting. Just hang on, I told myself.

I focused on hanging with the group up to mile 20, and my legs were still turning over smoothly. I was growing tired, however. My quads were getting sore now. The earlier thoughts of unleashing a hard 10k effort at 20 miles seemed pretty ridiculous by this point.

In retrospect I guess it was a bit of a survival tactic to replenish any glycogen I could muster, and around 21 or 22 I grabbed a banana from someone and tried to shove it down. Not a good idea and I now realize that I don't prefer anything more substantial than a gel. The chewing took too much concentration and interfered with my breathing a bit.

The leader of the pace group had begun interjecting motivational cues, and now he asked us to give a little to the small hills we were cresting. We had accumulated up to a minute on 3:10, and I suspect it was for this reason.

My overall time at mile 23 was 2:46:34, still under 7:15 average and still hanging on to the group. If the marathon was 23 miles, I would have had the perfect day.

Just before the 24-mile mark we ascended Lemon Drop Hill, which is maybe a 1/4-mile slight incline before dropping back down to Canal Park in downtown Duluth. In what felt like a matter of seconds I saw the group pull away. First a few feet, then 20, then 100. I couldn't hang on anymore, and I remember wondering whether the pace group was speeding up. They were, but only relatively of course. This coincided with me shoving some jelly beans into my mouth and almost choking on one. Feeling pretty desperate, and losing momentum now. I started calculating how much I could slow down and still finish in 3:10:xx. I had about a minute in the bank, but that didn't give me the wiggle room I felt like I needed.

The rest of the race doesn't merit publishing. I slipped off the cliff. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't pull it back together. I stooped to walking a few times, contemplating how I would make it the final 2 miles. The 3:10 goal quickly became 3:15, then 3:20. My tough resolve was reduced to a flimsy surrender.

This was the first time I've ever experienced such utterly helpless exhaustion. It was hard to walk, let alone run. In the last mile or so the I rallied enough to bring home a jogging finish for my family, who was spectating in the finish area. 3:16:21, chip time. Thanks guys. Ouch.

The minutes following the race were a long, cold blur. In the changing tent I started cramping as I tried to put on a new pair of socks. Every movement seemed to set off a spasm somewhere else in my body. My stomach was upset. I was shivering. I found my family and they convinced me to go to Grandma's (the namesake restaurant right at the finish) to await my dad's finish. It was attractive only for the warmth, as the thought of a beer and a burger made me a little nauseous. I ate a few breadsticks and a bowl of soup, but nothing seemed to agree with my stomach.

After warming up inside the restaurant we made our way back to the finishing mat in time to watch my dad jet through the gate. He went out at a conservative pace, had a huge negative split and enough energy to really pick it up at the end. Finally we made it back to the car and soon enough I was falling asleep in a hot epsom bath at my grandfather's place.

***

So I made a valiant effort, and for that I am proud. The fact that it didn't work out in the end doesn't dampen the overall accomplishment in my mind. I sensed the ideal conditions, took a risk, and gave it all I had. The fact that this was my only chance to get a BQ before the new standards apply also played into the decision. I'll just have to work a little harder now and aim for a 3:05 sometime next year.

It feels great to be done, and I'm looking forward to recovering and moving on to the next thing. Not sure what this is yet. Some shorter fall races and a few cycling events?

2011 Grandma's Marathon, Part 1

After feeling pretty flat for the past two weeks, I was surprised at how good I felt during today's run. It only took a few steps for me to settle into a rhythm, and really I enjoyed running with a pace group most of the way.

The long and short of it is that in the end, the 3:10 pace group was too ambitious, and I dropped off suddenly and severely during mile 23. This mile includes the infamous Lemon Drop Hill, which is hardly a hill, but it certainly blew me right off the course anyway.

In these last miles I walked a few times, and with each pause I realized it would take more and more energy to push myself to begin running again. This was enough motivation to maintain a slow jog for the final 1.2, and I had absolutely nothing left in me at the end for a quick finish. This was in stark contrast from the last time I ran this race (my only other marathon), when I kicked strongly for the final miles and over the finish.

I ended up finishing in 3:16:21. I'm ecstatic with this result given my lackluster training and uncertain expectations. Perhaps my favorite moment was during one of my walking pauses in mile 24, when I must have looked like I was feeling sorry for myself, and some old guy yelled at me to suck it up and get going. It was brash but it worked.

Training for this race has humbled me just as I was humbled during that final stretch today. It's given me a benchmark. And I can't say that I didn't give it everything out there. That's all I wanted to do today. Some more details to follow (if I can remember them).

Gambling Man

Joined Rob for a jaunt around Rock Creek Park this past Saturday, and I noted after finishing the run how stale I felt. We ran for about 1:20 and change, so about 10 miles of mostly trails. I tried to imagine extending the run for another two hours, and this only made me doubt myself. I know it doesn't work this way, but part of training for me has always been gaining the confidence to finish the goal race. This is especially so for the marathon, as I don't have a whole lot of experience to draw upon. I think I've pushed the envelope here this time around, leading me to extend my long training runs into the 3+ hour range.

But I know I'll finish, so the next inevitable question is: how fast? One of the themes of this training cycle has been simplicity. To me the most basic training technique is envisioning myself as "practicing" for a specific goal. So I've aligned my training with the goal of running at a moderate pace for as long as I can. Occasionally I strung together some faster miles. Otherwise no track work, no specific tempo runs, just running for long distances on accumulated fatigue. For better or worse, I really pushed myself in trying to maintain consistency. I've never quite had this experience in terms of running on dead legs, nagging injuries, and almost getting to the point of disgust with this damned thing.

I barely kept track of time and distance per run, and certainly don't have a fancy log of miles as I have in the past. The interesting thing is even if I did, I'd still be ruminating on this. And don't get me wrong - my lack of timekeeping has rarely been the result of disinterest. I've just been busy and this has merely become my default mode out of necessity.

What this is all leading up to is that I've accepted that I have to set some sort of goal for Saturday. My best judgment of my training suggests that I could reasonably finish around 3:20. As far as the lower limit of that time goes, I have no clear idea. If things fall into place and I really feel good, I'm comfortable with the idea of maintaining a pace in the low 7's. Below that and things get fuzzy.

So the most important goal is to finish. My baseline pacing target will be 7:26 per mile. If the planets align, I have a tailwind, and I haven't lost hope in the first 10k, then I'll push it a little and see what happens. The latter is of course a big risk with such a long distance, but I've always been good at improvisation. If it feels right, I anticipate I'll lay my cards on the table.

In Sight

I was reflecting on my lack of reflection over dinner last night. It's something I miss in many ways more than consciously. I'll really be looking to establish a regular pattern here following this final push to the 18th.

I've managed to hold things together over the past few weeks. I drove the nails into the coffin of my final long run with confidence. Turned out to be about 23 or 24 miles in about 3:20, run on trails around a remote lake in West Virginia (hence the estimated mileage).

I've been tapering down since, with a 15-miler last weekend and a 10-12 miler scheduled for this coming weekend. The taper sucks. I'm at the point where I want to be lined up on the starting line and it feels like time continues to slow the closer I get. Almost there...