This was an interesting day. No BQ but I thought that might be the case. Bottom line, I got a nine and a half minute PR, not what I hoped but not a bad day at the office.
As planned, I got on an airplane late last night and managed to snag an exit row seat, the one with no seat in front -- redneck first class -- spent the whole flight exercising my legs. I can vouch for the storm system we experienced today. It rocked the plane pretty good, more than I have experienced in a while, but once we got under the clouds the landing at SLC was pretty routine. Some days it seems unnatural to bounce around in a pressurized aluminum tube 5 miles above the ground at a high rate of speed, with a union guy driving.
We arrived so early that I ended up waiting for my ride, precious sleep minutes slipping away. I needn’t have worried since I didn’t sleep that well anyway. Got to bed at 1:00 this morning and woke up, on my own, at 3:00. The joys of senior status. Went out to take a walk to loosen up. The Y was glistening in the rain, peeking out between rain clouds and reflecting the city lights, not sure if anybody else saw that. Then I met up with my sister (she used to be a blogger here) at the bus stop and we got on a 4:15 bus to the starting line. Big mistake. The bus got lost (let’s see, where has this happened before, oh yeah, Ogden 2009). When it finally pulled up there were about 50 PoPs by the unloading zone that didn’t have unreasonable lines, but it was 20 minutes to race time and we got directed to the starting line, where there were “more PoP with no waiting”. Wrong. There were about 10 PoPs for sure, but each one had a substantial line that stretched into the starting corral. We shrugged and waited, then it got interesting. About 30 minutes after the race started we were still in line, when they announced that they were pulling up the starting mat, apparently to let some traffic through, but would be putting it back down in 5 minutes. No problem. Then not too long after they put it back down they announced they were taking it back up for good in 30 seconds and if you wanted a time you had to cross the mat. I had just emerged after attending to my chores and didn’t have my warmups off. Plus my drop bag was tied shut and I couldn’t get it open because of cold fingers from the rain that had started falling. I had no choice but to cross the mat before finishing my preparations. The way I figure it, the running gods owe me 2:02. I take Visa and American Express.
So off we went. My sister decided to run with me. My goal was 3:45, and she said if I broke 4 hours she would happily take the PR that gave her. She has been having health problems that affect her running and seemed happy to stick with the old guy. I ended up losing her early on at a water stop and worried about her the rest of the race, but she ended up finishing only a couple of minutes behind me and is fine.
Goal pace was 8:37 per mile. I had earlier decided no matter what happened I would stick with it through the half then reevaluate whether I could carry it through. It was basically a long shot strategy. Splits were as follows (Garmin measuring a little short today):
Mile 1: 10:39 (no heart rate reading), this one meant I was 2:02 in the hole right off the bat, but the effect was probably more because the early steep downhill splits were all faster than goal pace.
Miles 2 through 6: 8:20 (173), 8:15 (163), 8:28 (168), 8:31 (166), 8:29 (168). Right here it started raining in earnest, but I didn’t mind, except that I lost my sister in here. My socks got a little soggy but they are good socks and I never had blister issues. I wore my flats and they felt fast in these early miles. Right here I got to goal pace plus 55 cumulative seconds and was optimistic I might be able to beat the running gods if I didn’t get too greedy too soon.
Miles 7 and 8: 9:06 (173), 9:10 (173), I had been warned, but these three hills along the reservoir were as difficult as anything at St. George. I think the average elevation over the length of that course is almost 2,000 feet lower than UVM. I decided that the prudent thing to do was keep my heart rate going up the hills at no more than 175. It got up to 178 at one point but generally I was disciplined and calmly ate the extra seconds in a very mature manner.
Miles 9 through 13: 8:10 (168), 8:25 (170), 8:52 (173), 8:22 (168), 8:36 (168), these intermediate miles to the half marathon point went pretty well, despite another hill or two thrown in. My son planned to meet me at Vivian Park with my regular shoes in case the flats were bothering me. I didn’t find him there, but all of a sudden a car coming down the road from behind honked at me and it was him. The cars behind him didn’t like this scenario and laid on their horns. He pulled over into a median, only to have me tell him I had decided not to change shoes. I was generally maintaining pace at a reasonable heart rate and I thought the flat shoes were still helping me. Then he received a visit from an officer, which turned out to be friendly but bottom line was “don’t park here”. So he went on his way and I did the same. But he showed up several spots on the course, took me to the bus stop this morning and did the airport thing, so I much appreciate my son this weekend.
Miles 14 through 18: 8:45 (167), 8:54 (173), 8:24 (164), 8:36 (158), 8:43 (156), still was within two minutes of goal pace and more importantly my heart rate was behaving very nicely. I have run 10K at a 175 heart rate and I thought if I could be under that at 20 miles I would have a chance. This turned out to be wrong.
Miles 19 through 21: 9:05 (158), 9:16 (161), 9:15 (155), My heart rate was never a problem but my stomach and legs, old friends, decided to make an appearance at this inopportune point. I started to cramp up badly in my stomach and had to break stride repeatedly to avoid getting cramps in my legs, whom you will recall I have named Charley and Horse. Haven’t yet thought of a good name for my stomach, taking suggestions. (Just talked to Huans32, who has some great ideas from the tri side of things about how to manage leg cramps and stomach issues, great talking to him, he is very helpful and knows a lot.) At this point I knew a BQ was not going to happen and it was just the same old death march to the finish line. I thought about how I could make the best of the situation and decided to try to run at an uncomfortable but sustainable pace for the duration. At about mile 20 I was very happy to see my brother who lives in Orem and is recovering from a hip injury but will be running marathons by this fall, faster than me. It was a pleasant surprise and gave me some good mental energy.
Miles 22 through 24: 9:58 (158), 10:48 (153), 10:51 (148), starting to fade but sticking to my plan. These were difficult miles, but somewhere in here someone yelled my name. It must have been a blogger whom I haven’t met; whoever you were, thank you very much for the shoutout, it was a big boost, and please excuse me for not stopping to chat. Believe me, I would have loved nothing more than stopping for a nice chat.
Miles 25 through 26.22 11:05 (147), 12:48 (140), 11:30 pace on last 0.22. The overpass at 900 South, at mile 25.5, is cruel beyond measure. Somebody needs to pay for this one. I take Visa and American Express. I walked up it and my split for mile 26 shows it. All race long I saw a log of guys in Pleasant Grove VFD shirts. They seemed a happy bunch. They were running a very respectable pace and I was impressed by the high level of participation. But at the top of the overpass I saw a lone fireman stopped at the rail and gazing over the side. I knew a suicide was not in the cards, since runners at this point of the marathon are such a happy lot. Suddenly he emptied his stomach on the railroad tracks in a very impressive fashion (orange Gatorade if I am not mistaken), then quickly started running again before repeating the procedure. He got better results the first time. I didn’t know whether to laugh or join him at the rail.
Official time from the friendly guy in the trailer: 4:04:12. It felt great when they announced my name at the finish, even though I quickly discovered they were announcing everybody's name! I get cranky when somebody says that everybody is a winner, because we all do a lot of dumb things that should not be confused with winning strategies. But running a marathon cleanses body, mind and soul; so even to a cranky guy like me, today everybody was a winner and deserved to have their name announced, from the fastest Kenyan to those six-hour guys I saw as we drove away long after I finished -- I was once a member of their club and I worked just as hard on that day. | 