Today was my fourth run carrying water bottles, and I think I'm finally starting to get used to it. I don't have guns of steel or anything, but I didn't have that feeling of total exhaustion I experienced the first few times I did it. Today I went out for a 5.5-mile recovery run, the same sort of run that slayed me last week. But while I wasn't exactly effortlessly tripping along, I actually felt pretty good, despite a temperature in the 70s and very high humidity.
Meanwhile another part of my body wasn't feeling so great: I was starting to feel a little discomfort in my IT bands, despite -- or perhaps because of -- my new exercise regimen. I've been pretty good about doing an abdominal workout every day I'm not doing a hard run, but now I'm starting to think that's part of the problem. The workout I do, based partly on Pilates, involves a fair amount of lateral leg motion that could be involving the IT bands too heavily. I think I'm going to try more standard leg lifts and see if that alleviates the problem.
Otherwise it was an enjoyable morning run, 5.58 miles at a 9:45 pace. Details are below:
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The next marathon: Richmond
After running two very tough marathons, I've decided that my next challenge should be to see what I can do on a "regular" marathon: Something at or near sea level, with minimal vertical gain. I also would like to do a race that doesn't involve quite as much travel.
Among the fall races in the area, four stood out: Outer Banks, Savannah, Thunder Road, and Richmond, Virginia. Outer Banks and Savannah are the farthest away and probably would be the most expensive. They're also pancake-flat, which actually worries me a bit since I rarely train on perfectly flat routes. Thunder Road is the local Charlotte marathon; I did the half this past year and I like it a lot, but it's still quite hilly, with almost 1,000 feet of vertical gain.
That leaves Richmond, which I've heard great things about from runners in the area. It's got about 500 feet of climbing, which isn't bad at all (Big Sur had nearly 2,000 feet of vertical gain), and the finish is downhill. Several friends will be running the race, which means I may be able to carpool and/or share a room. The drive is reasonable -- about 4 or 5 hours -- and the weather should be perfect there in mid-November. The only serious concern is wind; I've heard the course can be a bit windy, but hopefully that won't affect the pace too much.
I went ahead and signed up for the race yesterday. I have fairly lofty goals for this race, but with almost five months for training, hopefully I'll be able to run that elusive 3:30 marathon in Richmond. I'm looking forward to it.
Details of today's workout are below.
Among the fall races in the area, four stood out: Outer Banks, Savannah, Thunder Road, and Richmond, Virginia. Outer Banks and Savannah are the farthest away and probably would be the most expensive. They're also pancake-flat, which actually worries me a bit since I rarely train on perfectly flat routes. Thunder Road is the local Charlotte marathon; I did the half this past year and I like it a lot, but it's still quite hilly, with almost 1,000 feet of vertical gain.
That leaves Richmond, which I've heard great things about from runners in the area. It's got about 500 feet of climbing, which isn't bad at all (Big Sur had nearly 2,000 feet of vertical gain), and the finish is downhill. Several friends will be running the race, which means I may be able to carpool and/or share a room. The drive is reasonable -- about 4 or 5 hours -- and the weather should be perfect there in mid-November. The only serious concern is wind; I've heard the course can be a bit windy, but hopefully that won't affect the pace too much.
I went ahead and signed up for the race yesterday. I have fairly lofty goals for this race, but with almost five months for training, hopefully I'll be able to run that elusive 3:30 marathon in Richmond. I'm looking forward to it.
Details of today's workout are below.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The heat is still on
Somehow I missed the start of summer. I spent a week and a half in Colorado / Utah, where the morning were always cool and the humidity never rose above 30 percent, while the of the country was sweltering.
Now, back in North Carolina, I'm really feeling the heat and humidity. Or maybe I'm just feeling the fact that I ran two marathons in five weeks. Or the fact that I've started hand-carrying water bottles for the first time. Whatever the root is, the result is the same: Workouts that would have been easy for me two months ago are now a struggle.
On Sunday I joined the DART group for a 13-miler. Actually I was hoping for more like 10 to 12 miles, but naturally plans evolve when a group of seven or eight people is trying to compromise. Based on my experience on Saturday, I decided to carry just one water bottle, switching hands every few miles.
The first 5 or 6 miles actually didn't feel too bad, and I managed about an 8:20 pace. But then around mile 7, I started to labor, a lot. I let three of the other runners run ahead, but fortunately Chad, who had done 6 miles before meeting up with the rest of us, was interested in a slower pace as well. We ran 9-minute miles for several miles, but at the start of Mile 13, even that was too much for me, and I told Chad I needed to walk a couple blocks. My pace on Mile 13 ended up being a 12:07. We did manage to pick up the pace to 9:27 for the final half-mile, a 9:02 overall average pace, but I was thoroughly exhausted at the end of the run, gulping down glass after glass of water.
Yesterday was a much-needed rest, but today I was hoping to return to form for a 6-mile tempo with the group. Adam, who always gives me a good workout, was there, and we started out at a 7:30 pace. This felt very fast for me, even on the downhill first mile, but eventually I settled into a rhythm and was able to maintain that pace through Mile 4. But Mile 5, the uphill mile that always determines how the DART loop is going, was a tough one: 8:08. I told Adam to go ahead and cruise in while I cooled down for the last 1.38 miles at an 8:40 pace. Overall it was still a 7:54 pace, so not bad, but not what I was looking for.
Details of the past two days' runs are below.
Now, back in North Carolina, I'm really feeling the heat and humidity. Or maybe I'm just feeling the fact that I ran two marathons in five weeks. Or the fact that I've started hand-carrying water bottles for the first time. Whatever the root is, the result is the same: Workouts that would have been easy for me two months ago are now a struggle.
On Sunday I joined the DART group for a 13-miler. Actually I was hoping for more like 10 to 12 miles, but naturally plans evolve when a group of seven or eight people is trying to compromise. Based on my experience on Saturday, I decided to carry just one water bottle, switching hands every few miles.
The first 5 or 6 miles actually didn't feel too bad, and I managed about an 8:20 pace. But then around mile 7, I started to labor, a lot. I let three of the other runners run ahead, but fortunately Chad, who had done 6 miles before meeting up with the rest of us, was interested in a slower pace as well. We ran 9-minute miles for several miles, but at the start of Mile 13, even that was too much for me, and I told Chad I needed to walk a couple blocks. My pace on Mile 13 ended up being a 12:07. We did manage to pick up the pace to 9:27 for the final half-mile, a 9:02 overall average pace, but I was thoroughly exhausted at the end of the run, gulping down glass after glass of water.
Yesterday was a much-needed rest, but today I was hoping to return to form for a 6-mile tempo with the group. Adam, who always gives me a good workout, was there, and we started out at a 7:30 pace. This felt very fast for me, even on the downhill first mile, but eventually I settled into a rhythm and was able to maintain that pace through Mile 4. But Mile 5, the uphill mile that always determines how the DART loop is going, was a tough one: 8:08. I told Adam to go ahead and cruise in while I cooled down for the last 1.38 miles at an 8:40 pace. Overall it was still a 7:54 pace, so not bad, but not what I was looking for.
Details of the past two days' runs are below.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The heat is on
Through strategic travel to mountainous regions, I've somehow managed to avoid the worst of the late-spring heat wave that's plagued most of the U.S. Until now.
This morning I had planned a fairly easy 6-mile run. I wanted to do something harder than a recovery run, but not a fast run by any stretch. I also wanted to continue carrying my handheld water bottles in an attempt to do something for my upper body.
I also wanted to sleep in a bit. Instead of getting up at 6 or 6:30, I decided to wait until 8:00 to start my run. That may have been where things went wrong.
Or maybe it was just that the sum total of all my goals were incompatible. You can't carry four pounds worth of hydration gear and water, run in 80-degree heat, and maintain a pace that seemed easy in cooler weather.
After a mile or so I was already feeling the weight of the water bottles.
In Mile 3 my breath began to feel labored. I had to double-check my Garmin to see that I was still not even running 9-minute miles. By Mile 4, the weight of the water bottles was once again too much to bear, so I emptied them. Mile 5 was slower yet -- the uphill slog up South Street that often destroys me on 17-mile runs was now taking its toll after only 4.
I managed to recover a bit for the final mile home, but I couldn't have been more drenched if I had just jumped into a pool of sweat. I had to change out of my running gear so I could do my core exercises without soaking the carpet. I soaked through the new clothes, too! My average pace over 6.31 miles: 9:23.
Details of today's run are below.
This morning I had planned a fairly easy 6-mile run. I wanted to do something harder than a recovery run, but not a fast run by any stretch. I also wanted to continue carrying my handheld water bottles in an attempt to do something for my upper body.
I also wanted to sleep in a bit. Instead of getting up at 6 or 6:30, I decided to wait until 8:00 to start my run. That may have been where things went wrong.
Or maybe it was just that the sum total of all my goals were incompatible. You can't carry four pounds worth of hydration gear and water, run in 80-degree heat, and maintain a pace that seemed easy in cooler weather.
After a mile or so I was already feeling the weight of the water bottles.
In Mile 3 my breath began to feel labored. I had to double-check my Garmin to see that I was still not even running 9-minute miles. By Mile 4, the weight of the water bottles was once again too much to bear, so I emptied them. Mile 5 was slower yet -- the uphill slog up South Street that often destroys me on 17-mile runs was now taking its toll after only 4.
I managed to recover a bit for the final mile home, but I couldn't have been more drenched if I had just jumped into a pool of sweat. I had to change out of my running gear so I could do my core exercises without soaking the carpet. I soaked through the new clothes, too! My average pace over 6.31 miles: 9:23.
Details of today's run are below.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Starting a new regimen
Having completed my first two marathons and done quite well in one of them, it's time to start thinking about what's in store next. Summer in the south is not a great time for marathoning, and that's fine with me -- I think I need several months to fully recover and ramp up training for my next major challenge. In fact, I haven't even decided what that challenge will be. I'd definitely like to run a marathon on a flatter course closer to sea level, and I have a couple ideas rattling around, but nothing set in stone yet.
That said, I have a few things I'd like to fix about my training regimen. First, I need to do more strength work, particularly in the core and upper body. Second, I need to find a better way to deal with my nagging IT band issues. Finally, I need to make sure I'm better prepared for those critical final miles in a marathon.
Last fall, I was taking a Pilates class weekly that I think helped a lot with core strength. Unfortunately, the class was cancelled at the end of December, and while I got a Pilates video which I followed fairly regularly, it wasn't as intense as the full-hour class. Then when I injured my shoulders in the National Half Marathon, I found I couldn't really do Pilates at all: Just lifting my arms over my head aggravated the injuries. The result: I simply didn't do any core work.
I've decided that I need to do core work every day I'm not doing a long run or tempo/speed work, which is four days in a typical week. From my Pilates experience, I now know plenty of exercises that don't involve the shoulder-aggravating moves, and I can do those exercises now, and add in shoulder work as I recover from the injuries. In addition, I've decided to start running with hand-carried water bottles rather than a fuel belt; that should help strengthen my arms (at least compared to zero arm work, which is what I had been doing).
For the IT band, I have been pretty good about stretching after every run, but I haven't done much to address the strength issue that may be at the root of the injury -- weak hip abductors. I've decided to incorporate some hip abductor work into a core exercise routine that I'll be doing four days a week. Just stretching was enough to keep the injury at bay so that I could complete long runs and tempo runs, but any time I tried to do more focused speed work, the injury would flare up again. The result was that I didn't do any speed work at all other than tempos and 8K and 10K races. I think I need a little more speed work than that, so hopefully adding the IT band exercises will allow me to do it.
The bonking issue is a little tougher to deal with. I felt like I was well-hydrated and fueled at Big Sur, and yet I still hit the wall at around Mile 21. I bonked even earlier at Steamboat, but I can probably chalk most of that up to a short recovery from Big Sur, plus inadequate compensation for the effects of altitude. Perhaps I simply started out too fast in both of these races given my level of fitness. But I can't help feeling that I still don't have enough experience running longer distances. I've actually only done three training runs longer than 20 miles: 20, 21, and 22. I think I either need a training regimen that includes more and longer long runs, or I need to change my strategy in those runs. Part of the reasoning behind the theory that you only need to do a 20-mile or so long run is that you're not running at race pace, so you don't need to run as far because you're actually on your feet just as long as you would be in a race. But looking back at my records for those three runs, I never did spend that much time on my feet: My times for the runs were 2:51, 3:08, and 3:12. My longest training run was still 25 minutes shorter than my fastest marathon. Maybe I just need to do my long runs slower!
There are actually a couple ways to deal with this issue. One is to start out the long run a little tired -- this can be accomplished by running a hard tempo or race the day before. Another would be to just do longer long runs. Or I could try running slower during my long runs. That last option might actually be the toughest, because one of the best motivation factors for long runs is running with a group, and it's hard to get the group to go slow enough.
With that in mind, I decided to take a look at a new marathon training program, Jack Daniels, because it seems to feature the longest long runs. I've ordered the book, but since it has no electronic version, I'll have to wait a week or so for the post office to deliver it. I'll keep you updated on my thoughts about the Daniels program as I read it.
Details of today's workout are below:
That said, I have a few things I'd like to fix about my training regimen. First, I need to do more strength work, particularly in the core and upper body. Second, I need to find a better way to deal with my nagging IT band issues. Finally, I need to make sure I'm better prepared for those critical final miles in a marathon.
Last fall, I was taking a Pilates class weekly that I think helped a lot with core strength. Unfortunately, the class was cancelled at the end of December, and while I got a Pilates video which I followed fairly regularly, it wasn't as intense as the full-hour class. Then when I injured my shoulders in the National Half Marathon, I found I couldn't really do Pilates at all: Just lifting my arms over my head aggravated the injuries. The result: I simply didn't do any core work.
I've decided that I need to do core work every day I'm not doing a long run or tempo/speed work, which is four days in a typical week. From my Pilates experience, I now know plenty of exercises that don't involve the shoulder-aggravating moves, and I can do those exercises now, and add in shoulder work as I recover from the injuries. In addition, I've decided to start running with hand-carried water bottles rather than a fuel belt; that should help strengthen my arms (at least compared to zero arm work, which is what I had been doing).
For the IT band, I have been pretty good about stretching after every run, but I haven't done much to address the strength issue that may be at the root of the injury -- weak hip abductors. I've decided to incorporate some hip abductor work into a core exercise routine that I'll be doing four days a week. Just stretching was enough to keep the injury at bay so that I could complete long runs and tempo runs, but any time I tried to do more focused speed work, the injury would flare up again. The result was that I didn't do any speed work at all other than tempos and 8K and 10K races. I think I need a little more speed work than that, so hopefully adding the IT band exercises will allow me to do it.
The bonking issue is a little tougher to deal with. I felt like I was well-hydrated and fueled at Big Sur, and yet I still hit the wall at around Mile 21. I bonked even earlier at Steamboat, but I can probably chalk most of that up to a short recovery from Big Sur, plus inadequate compensation for the effects of altitude. Perhaps I simply started out too fast in both of these races given my level of fitness. But I can't help feeling that I still don't have enough experience running longer distances. I've actually only done three training runs longer than 20 miles: 20, 21, and 22. I think I either need a training regimen that includes more and longer long runs, or I need to change my strategy in those runs. Part of the reasoning behind the theory that you only need to do a 20-mile or so long run is that you're not running at race pace, so you don't need to run as far because you're actually on your feet just as long as you would be in a race. But looking back at my records for those three runs, I never did spend that much time on my feet: My times for the runs were 2:51, 3:08, and 3:12. My longest training run was still 25 minutes shorter than my fastest marathon. Maybe I just need to do my long runs slower!
There are actually a couple ways to deal with this issue. One is to start out the long run a little tired -- this can be accomplished by running a hard tempo or race the day before. Another would be to just do longer long runs. Or I could try running slower during my long runs. That last option might actually be the toughest, because one of the best motivation factors for long runs is running with a group, and it's hard to get the group to go slow enough.
With that in mind, I decided to take a look at a new marathon training program, Jack Daniels, because it seems to feature the longest long runs. I've ordered the book, but since it has no electronic version, I'll have to wait a week or so for the post office to deliver it. I'll keep you updated on my thoughts about the Daniels program as I read it.
Details of today's workout are below:
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Walking is different from running
I'm back!
Where have I been? Not running, that's where. After the Steamboat Marathon, I had planned a week-long vacation to see the sights in Colorado and Utah.
I figured while I might not be able to run for a few days, surely I'd be able to enjoy a couple short hikes while I recovered. Unfortunately, the first one I chose was a very steep hike along a creek that, more often than not, overflowed onto the trail.
Needless to say, this trail, while beautiful, didn't do much for my aching quads.
Over the next few days, my legs gradually felt better, and by the end of the trip, I was completing rough 12-mile hikes with no pain at all. But I didn't run at all on my vacation. I figured even though I was doing some tough hikes, my legs would be recovering and I'd be able to start up where I left off when I returned home.
Yesterday, my first full day back in Davidson, I got to test that notion. I decided to do a 9-miler: the 1.32-mile run into town, the 6.38-mile DART loop, and the 1.32-mile run home. My legs were feeling okay but not great during the warm-up run, and I hoped to take it fairly easy on the DART loop.
When I arrived in town, Chad and Marc were there. Chad was fresh off a 50-miler and Marc hadn't run for over a week, so I figured I would be able to go easy. Then Adam showed up. Adam always gives me a workout on the DART loop, and this day was no exception: we went out in 7:38, 7:29, 7:27. I was still not feeling great, and as we started uphill at the end of the run, I could tell I wasn't going to be able to maintain this pace. Adam stayed with me as I ran a 7:50 and then an 8:15 on the always-challenging uphill Mile 5. Finally I suggested that he take off while I slowed down for the final 1.38, which I completed at an 8:18 pace, for a 7:51 average pace. Not great for me on what I thought would be fresh legs. I guess hiking on rough trails isn't an ideal way to recover from a marathon. Humbled, I took it very slowly on the 1.32-mile run home.
Today I decided to just drive in for the DART loop, for a total of just 6.38 miles. Chad, Jeff, Jeremy, and Rodney joined me and they were taking it fairly easy, running roughly an 8-minute pace. Once again, by Mile 5, I was struggling, even though the pace was slower than yesterday. I managed to barely hang with Jeff as Chad, Jeremy, and Rodney picked up the pace at the end. Average pace: 8:09. Tomorrow I'll be recovering with a spin class, and hopefully by the weekend my legs will feel solid again.
Details of the last two days' workouts are below:
Where have I been? Not running, that's where. After the Steamboat Marathon, I had planned a week-long vacation to see the sights in Colorado and Utah.
I figured while I might not be able to run for a few days, surely I'd be able to enjoy a couple short hikes while I recovered. Unfortunately, the first one I chose was a very steep hike along a creek that, more often than not, overflowed onto the trail.
 |
| Yes, that is the trail |
Needless to say, this trail, while beautiful, didn't do much for my aching quads.
Over the next few days, my legs gradually felt better, and by the end of the trip, I was completing rough 12-mile hikes with no pain at all. But I didn't run at all on my vacation. I figured even though I was doing some tough hikes, my legs would be recovering and I'd be able to start up where I left off when I returned home.
Yesterday, my first full day back in Davidson, I got to test that notion. I decided to do a 9-miler: the 1.32-mile run into town, the 6.38-mile DART loop, and the 1.32-mile run home. My legs were feeling okay but not great during the warm-up run, and I hoped to take it fairly easy on the DART loop.
When I arrived in town, Chad and Marc were there. Chad was fresh off a 50-miler and Marc hadn't run for over a week, so I figured I would be able to go easy. Then Adam showed up. Adam always gives me a workout on the DART loop, and this day was no exception: we went out in 7:38, 7:29, 7:27. I was still not feeling great, and as we started uphill at the end of the run, I could tell I wasn't going to be able to maintain this pace. Adam stayed with me as I ran a 7:50 and then an 8:15 on the always-challenging uphill Mile 5. Finally I suggested that he take off while I slowed down for the final 1.38, which I completed at an 8:18 pace, for a 7:51 average pace. Not great for me on what I thought would be fresh legs. I guess hiking on rough trails isn't an ideal way to recover from a marathon. Humbled, I took it very slowly on the 1.32-mile run home.
Today I decided to just drive in for the DART loop, for a total of just 6.38 miles. Chad, Jeff, Jeremy, and Rodney joined me and they were taking it fairly easy, running roughly an 8-minute pace. Once again, by Mile 5, I was struggling, even though the pace was slower than yesterday. I managed to barely hang with Jeff as Chad, Jeremy, and Rodney picked up the pace at the end. Average pace: 8:09. Tomorrow I'll be recovering with a spin class, and hopefully by the weekend my legs will feel solid again.
Details of the last two days' workouts are below:
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Race Recap: The Steamboat Marathon
The best-laid plans come to naught when confronted with the immutable laws of physics. At 8,000 feet above sea level, the air contains 25 percent less oxygen than it does at sea level. While the human body can adapt to these circumstances, all else being equal, it will never perform as well during aerobic activities at altitude as it does at sea level.
Somehow I thought that this fact of nature wouldn't affect my attempt to run my fastest marathon (in two attempts). I was wrong.
I felt great as I awoke this morning at 5:00, having spent the previous three days carbo-loading and acclimatizing to the altitude. I strolled into the town of Steamboat Springs and hopped onto the bus that would climb 1,300 feet to an elevation of 8,124 feet, near Steamboat Lake, exactly 26.2 miles away. I chatted nervously with the other runners on the bus, each of us revealing our plans for completing the race. Mine, as it turned out, was hopelessly optimistic. My strategy was to run a 7:40 pace for the first 20 primarily downhill miles, then try to hang on for a 3:30:00 finishing time, an average of 8:01 per mile.
After my experience at Big Sur, I was prepared for a long, cold wait at the top. I brought an extra layer on top of the $8 secondhand sweats I had bought, ready to discard if necessary at the starting line. I got a fellow runner to take my photo at the starting area:
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| Nice and toasty! |
It was about 40 degrees, so perfect weather for running, but a little chilly for sitting around trying not to waste too much energy.
After a short speech, the starting gun went off without so much as a "on your marks, get set." I settled into my planned 7:40 pace but almost immediately found myself a little out of breath. The first 10 miles or so of a marathon should be relatively easy. The miles add up, and if you work too hard at the start you'll have nothing left for the finish. The first mile was downhill, then there was a short uphill, followed by another long downhill before the first major hill of the race in Mile 4. I decided to take it easy on the hill, running up it at an 8:30 pace. Then we started the long, 16-mile descent. Here's a photo of the Mile 4 hill from my preview yesterday.
There's a climb there, honest -- right after this long straight stretch
Even on the rapidly declining Miles 5 and 6, where we would descend about 600 vertical feet, I still found myself laboring for breath. Splits for miles 1-6: 7:41, 7:43, 7:41, 8:24, 7:41, 7:40.
Starting at Mile 7, the course leveled out a bit, but still continued downhill. I found it increasingly difficult to maintain my planned 7:40 pace, and gradually slowed over the next six miles. As you can see here from another preview photo, the course was beautiful, but it still didn't inspire me to run any faster:
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| The scenery just went on and on... |
My pace for Miles 7-13: 7:47, 7:43, 7:45, 7:55, 8:08, 8:09, 8:16. This simply wouldn't do. If I was going to make my goal of an 8:01 pace for the whole run, I needed to take advantage of this extended downhill, and I just couldn't do it. I was spent. We had arrived at the half-marathon start, with its legion of porta-potties, and I decided to take a quick bathroom break, as pre-constructed in this photo Nora took during the preview drive:
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| Imagine me at the other end of the row, looking totally exhausted |
This did not have the desired effect of making me totally refreshed and restored. Instead, I gradually got more and more exhausted. I began to contemplate taking walk-breaks. By Mile 17, I was taking a 1-minute walk-break every mile. My splits for Miles 14-20 were 9:44, 8:43, 9:12, 9:28, 9:52, 8:47, 9:52. I remember thinking that my 8:47 on Mile 19 would probably be my last sub-9-minute mile, and I was right. There was beautiful scenery all along this section, but I was hard-pressed to enjoy it. Here's a sample from the preview drive:
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| How picturesque! Too bad I was too exhausted to care... |
All along this section of the race, the road was partially open to traffic. Runners could use one lane, but cars and (mostly) trucks were being escorted up and down the other lane. I'm not sure if this was better than just letting vehicles fend for themselves, because we ended up coughing on diesel fumes as 20 pickup trucks passed us at a time. Then at Mile 20, we passed the area where a long line of vehicles were waiting their turn up the road. I had the rare pleasure of running past a half-dozen highly-aromatic fully-laden cattle trucks.
Another runner and I had developed similar backup strategies for this stretch of the race: Run as long as you could, then walk as long as your conscience allowed. Our runs and walks were out of sync, so Inadvertent Galloway Guy and I ended up passing each other repeatedly during this section, trading frustrated comments about how this wasn't the race we had been hoping for. After an uphill section through Mile 22, Mile 23 was finally downhill, taking us along a busy road that was open to traffic in both directions, relegating runners to a narrow, dusty shoulder. By Mile 24, I was walking more and more. My splits for Miles 21-24 were 12:51, 11:58, 10:03, 15:29.
As I approached the Mile 25 marker, I began to wonder if I would be able to run at all for the final 1.2 miles. In the distance, I could see a woman walking opposite the direction of traffic, clearly looking for a friend. When she reached the Mile 25 marker, she let out a shriek as her friend ran past me toward her. They exchanged ecstatic greetings, and then her friend ran on toward the finish. I was walking along and asked Shrieking Girl if I could be her friend too. She shrieked convincingly in support of me, but just as I passed her, my left calf cramped badly. I couldn't walk; I could barely stand. I asked Shrieking Girl to help me sit down so I could stretch my calf. She wasn't sure that was allowed because she'd be assisting a runner (I'm pretty sure it's okay to help someone as long as you're not assisting them moving forward), but finally she helped me sit down. I stretched, and it seemed to feel better. Somehow I hobbled to my feet while Shrieking Girl walked further up the course looking for more friends. A man headed the other way in his car asked if I wanted a ride to the finish. I said "Are you kidding? There's just a mile left!" I was going to make it to the finish under my own power, whether it was a 10-minute pace or a 30-minute pace.
After about a quarter-mile of walking, I decided to try running again. I told myself to go slowly, but just to run. I was gradually able to pick up the pace, until I was actually running credibly for the final mile. Mile 26 pace: 15:29. As I approached the finish, I saw Nora and Greta, who had been patiently waiting for me. I had told them to expect me around 3:30 from the start. My actual finishing time was more like 4:08 (the official results haven't yet been released), so they had been waiting a loooong time. Despite the long wait, Nora was ready with the camera, and got these shots of me at the finish:
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| While this wasn't the race I had planned, I was genuinely excited to be finishing! |
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| They still give you a medal if you finish 38 minutes slower than you had hoped to. |
It was about 68 degrees at the finish line, but they were handing out ice cold towels for runners to cool off with. I guess in Colorado this counts as hot! I got rid of the towel and obtained a bottle of water and lowered myself gingerly to the grass in the shade in front of the county courthouse. They were a bit stingy with the water at this race, and since I wasn't able to get up on my own power, Greta and Nora had to keep going over to the water tent to get me new bottles. Inadvertent Galloway Guy had settled nearby, and we both joked about how pathetic our races had been. It was good to see that I wasn't the only one struggling today.
After sitting on the grass guzzling water for 45 minutes, I finally confronted the problem of how to get up for the 5-block walk back to our hotel. My quads were absolutely shot, so every time I tried to stand up, I had to sit back down. Finally we found a folding chair I could use to pull myself up with, and I limped back to the room.
After a shower, four Advil and wearing compression socks for a couple hours, I was able to walk relatively easily. We went out to dinner at the local steak house, and after a couple glasses of wine, my finish in the race didn't seem nearly as disappointing.
The Garmin plot of my race is below.
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