I remember when I first started running back in the fall of 2009 that running even 5 miles in a row seemed completely unattainable.  But, I kept at it, slowly and steadily, and managed to get to a place where I could do it.  So I’d add a bit to my next milestone, then go after that a little bit at a time.  When I toed the line to run my first 10K (which is 6.2 miles), I had never run 6 miles in a row before, and I wasn’t even certain that I’d finish, but I went ahead anyway.  After reaching that, I began to add a little bit more here and there.  I distinctly remember trying to run 10 miles.  It took me four attempts before I actually made it.

So now I’m at the place where I have a few marathons under my belt; some went well, some … not-so-much.  In the midst of training for my first (in Chicago 2010), a friend asked if I was going to qualify for Boston, and I remember thinking he might as well be asking if I plan to go to the moon.  A complete and utter impossibility.

In my most recent race, the 2011 Marine Corps Marathon, I proved to myself that I could, in fact, improve my running beyond what I thought was possible.  And it’s from that perspective that I’ve decided to dedicate this year to shaving an additional 27 minutes from my marathon P.R. to get down to 3:15:00, or the Boston Marathon qualification time for a man of my advancing age.  It definitely feels like a stretch goal, but I now know what hard work and dedication can lead to, and I feel like I’m ready to take those next steps.  The coaching I’ve been getting from Luke Humphrey has been an incredible boost for me, too, and so I believe I’m going after this goal in a measured, smart way.  So the plan looks like this:

• Glass City Marathon, April 22, 2012.  My base goal is to run a 3:34:00 here.  If the stars (and weather) align, I may go for a 3:30:00.
• California International Marathon, December 2, 2012.  This will be the marathon where I go for a 3:15:00.

I’m sure I’ll have other races along the way to see how my fitness is progressing, but those are the major ones.  So there it is in black and white:  I’d like to qualify for Boston.  And 2012 is the year I start to do that.

Team Where's the Damn Van?!

My team consisted of four runners from last year’s team and one new runner:  Joe Marruchella leading us off, Steve Speirs ran second, Thomas Neuberger was third, Jenny Jowdy was fourth, Ally Speirs ran fifth (our “new” teammate), and I ran last.  John Thorne, my brother-in-law, somehow agreed to be our van driver during all of this craziness.  The way Ragnar races work for an ultra team is pretty simple:  rather than running one leg at a time, you run two consecutive legs.  So Joe ran legs 1 & 2, 13 & 14, and 25 & 26.  Steve ran legs 3 & 4, 15 & 16 and 27 & 28.  And so on.   No matter what, there are a total of about 200 miles to run, and no matter what, each runner takes three legs of the race, it’s just that as an ultra team each leg is really a combined, consecutive two leg assignment.  So if you’re a standard (12-runner) team, each runner will end up running a total of 16 or 17 miles, but if you’re an ultra team, each runner handles about 33.  The legs themselves vary in length a bit, so it’s never a truly even split.  In fact, for this race, one of our runners (Steve)  did about 42 total miles.  I did about 32.

Our start time was 1:00 PM Friday afternoon.  We truly had a gorgeous couple of days for running.  Saturday was a bit hot (mid-80s), but when I left Ohio, it was 30 degrees and cloudy, so I’m not going to complain!   The first part of the race had us running through a bunch of streets in Miami, which proved to be pretty challenging on a number of fronts.  Dodging pedestrians on sidewalks can be tough, and needing to stop at traffic lights can be mentally unnerving.  Unlike marathons where the streets are shut down to pedestrians and traffic, relay races occur on “live” roads.  Thomas had multiple cycles of passing slower runners only to have them catch back up when he had to stop and wait for lights and traffic.  The other difficulty of running the city streets is that the signage Ragnar uses to direct runners where to turn can get lost in all of the mental juggling of lights, traffic and pedestrians.  All of my teammates ran strong first legs covering about 47 miles before me, which meant I was handed the slap bracelet at about 7:20 PM for my first run.

I've just started leg one in the dark

My first assignment was a combined 12.5 miles and it ended up being a transition point between the more city-like running of the first section to a mostly dirt road, trail-like middle section.  After leaving the park where Ally handed off to me, the first 10½ miles of my leg was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.  To the left was a canal, to the right were mangrove and woods, and the road was a trail with odd bits of gravel and dirt.  It was pitch black, and for whatever reason, I only ever saw one other runner during this leg, so I was completely alone.  Picture a horror movie where they purposefully send a character into an place where the audience just knows something is going to happen, but they don’t know what.  I kept shining my headlamp into the canal looking for alligators and then into the woods for critters big and small.  While I really never felt scared, I did have an uneasy feeling for quite a while.  After an hour and half of that, I was excited to make the turn that sent me down a road headed toward Homestead Speedway and civilization.  The last part of my leg was running one lap on the speedway itself.  Pretty cool. Leg one stats:  12.5 miles, 1:27:51 for an average pace of 8:19.

Finishing leg one with a lap in Homestead Speedway

The next set of legs marked the transition from the middle trail-running section to US Highway 1 – The Overseas Highway and over into the Florida Keys.  Joe and Steve truly got the worst of it during this section as their 4 combined legs to start this cycle (a total of  33.5 miles) was through the canals and had the worst of the road conditions.  Steve had a particularly hard section as his combined run was 20 miles with the first 8+ running the hardest of the trails.  To make just a bit tougher, these legs were “No Van Support” which meant we couldn’t stop and hand him water or assistance.  The second half of his run took us from mainland Florida over to Key Largo to begin the Keys section of the race, which would have teams running the bridges going from one Key to the next over the final 110 or so miles.

There was a a lot of beauty and tranquility running bridges over the ocean all through the night, but it also presented its own set of difficulties.  Most of the bridge running left the runners on their own for hydration and nutrition since there just isn’t enough room to allow vans to pull over and help on a two lane highway with guardrails.  It also meant that exchange points could get pretty congested with vans trying to get in and out to exchange runners.  This would end up becoming a bigger problem later in the day, but we could see it starting to happen in the wee hours of the morning.  Jenny had to run the second longest combined leg during the middle of the night:  nearly 17 miles.  Ally got to watch the sun rise during her 12+ mile second run and then she handed it back off to me for the final portion of the second cycle of team running.  One real positive part of the night running was getting to use the Trailblazer Headlamps that L.L. Bean provided for us.  These headlamps do a great job of lighting up the road in front of you (43 lumens!) all while staying in place on your head.  They also proved to be useful inside the van where we needed to look up exchange points on maps without disturbing any runners trying to catch 40 winks.

My second run was a combined 9.8 miles and had some bridge running as well as some trail-like running on Marathon Key.  Nothing too difficult here with the exception of the heat.  Since my first leg was pretty arduous because of the length and the uneven ground, I decided to put on my Zensah calf sleeves to help perk up my tired legs.  They really helped a lot.  Once the sun came up, it started to get warm pretty quickly.  I made the mistake of not bringing any nutrition with me, so the team grabbed some energy gels and gave them to me along the way.  I was very thankful that this wasn’t a “No Van Support” leg as I was starting to get that hollow feeling that precedes dizziness.  After popping an energy block I felt much, much better and finished my second run feeling good at Marathon City Hall.  Leg stats:  9.8 miles, 1:21:22 for an average pace of 8:18.  The team was also excited here because it meant the kickoff of the final cycle of running for all of us.  We had covered about 145 miles so far.  Two legs down, one to go!

The end of leg #2

… And I managed to step on Joe’s shoe during the handoff.  Whoops.  As I got back to the van to grab some water, another ultra team of Dailymile friends pulled in right next us.  Team “There’s the Damn Van” was filled with very strong runners, so we figured we’d see them at some point along the course even though they started 2 hours after we did back on Friday.  After having each already run somewhere near a marathon distance, any little bit of motivation helps, so knowing they were lurking gave everyone a boost.  Our team pretty well knew we wouldn’t beat them outright (based on total time), so making sure we at least crossed the finish line without being caught got the competitive juices going a bit.

This final set of legs really pushed our endurance.  The heat was really beginning to build, and by now, we were all pretty tired.  No sleep, no good food and twenty-some miles on our legs will do that to you, so getting through this last set was a real test.  But one by one we cranked out that last run.  We helped one another by handing out ice cold water to pour over our heads in the midst of the heat and just kept pushing.   We managed to avoid missing any exchange points due to the bad traffic along the route, but in a few cases it was pretty close.  Before her final leg, Ally, who is a surgical nurse, helped revive an exhuasted runner at an exchange.  When I got the bracelet for the final run of the race, I was ready to be done, and so was the rest of the team.  My final 9+ miler took us across the bridge onto Key West, along the south side of the island, then to the finish line.  I started out that last leg running pretty strong, at about an 8:20 pace and feeling pretty good.  I held that pace for about the first 5 miles, then just ran out of steam.  I remember at about mile 8 trying to push to speed up but my legs just wouldn’t answer the call.  So I kept going slow and steady and made the final turn toward the finish line and that’s when I heard the crowd noise growing and music playing.  Soon enough, the rest of the team joined me to run the final meters as a team and crossed the finish line together.  My final leg stats:  9.3 miles, 1:21:20 for an average pace of 8:48.

Final results for Where’s the Damn Van:  27:01:50.  We placed 8th among men’s ultra teams, and 31st overall (out of about 500 teams).

I had a great time running this race with friends.  Doing it as an ultra team certainly made it more of a physical challenge, but I think the tougher part may have been the mental side.  When you run a race like this as a 12-person team, you have periods of a few hours where your set of runners have no responsibility, so you can head to a major exchange, sleep a bit, eat a decent meal or just relax.  As an ultra team, you’re constantly on the move to the next exchange and have no real breaks.  You may be able to steal a minute or two of sleep or wolf down yet another peanut butter bagel, but nothing of any real substance, and that really starts to add up.  When you couple that with running 32-ish miles in less than 24 hours, it’s a tough go.  But a fun one for sure.  Thanks again to our sponsors: Zensah Compression and L.L. Bean.  Mission Athletecare also helped keep the gorgeous yet brutal sun from sending me home looking like a lobster.

A special commendation needs to be given to John Thorne, our van driver.  He had to stay awake the whole night just as we did, but he also had to be awake enough to get us safely from place to place.  But where he really shined was helping keep everything light.  30 hours cooped up in a van of sweaty, smelly runners is no picnic, but he managed to keep everyone smiling as he did it.  A complete class act.

John Thorne, van driver extraordinaire

Steve Speirs

Ally Speirs

Jenny Jowdy

Thomas Neuberger

Joe Marruchella

UPDATE:

• Read Steve’s race recap here.
• Read Joe’s race recap here.

The year started pretty slowly as I was recovering from a knee injury sustained during my run at the 2010 Chicago Marathon, but I was feeling better and had started training for the 2011 Flying Pig Marathon in earnest.  While Cincinnati isn’t known for having brutal winters, January and February were pretty tough.  Lots of snow and lots of ice.  But training went pretty well.  At the end of February, I had a great time running with 11 other runners at the Ragnar Relay in Del Sol, Arizona, and surprised myself by turning in 3 consecutive legs averaging under 8:00 minute miles.  That little confidence boost lead me to give myself a bit of a fitness test in March by running the Cincinnati Heart Half Marathon to a PR:  1:42:43.

When May rolled around I felt ready to tackle the Flying Pig.  Everything in my training lead me to believe a sub-4:00 race was more than doable.  In the end, that race left me face down in the gravel after mile the 16 mark, and with a huge question mark about my health.  Things turned out OK, though, and I got the go ahead to continue running, with a strict proviso that I pay keen attention to my hydration levels.  Much to the dismay of my entire family, I made the decision to turn around a week later and run the Toronto Good Life Marathon.  My reasons were many, and although I was a bit afraid too, I’m glad I made the decision to do it.  I finished in just over 4 hours:  4:00:40.

I spent the summer training for the fall marathon I had on my schedule:  the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, DC.  While I had turned in a solid performance in Toronto, I knew I had a better time in me, so I got to work trying to make that happen.  At the beginning of the MCM training cycle, I made to the decision to try something new with my training and signed up with coaching from the Hanson-Brooks Distance Project.  I worked directly with Luke Humphrey, who is running in the Olympic Trials Marathon in just a few weeks.  Their thinking on marathon training plans are a bit different from most, but honestly, that’s what I wanted.

By late summer, I knew I was improving.  Double digit tempo runs no longer scared me, and my strength and speed runs were solid as well.  My peak mileage got up to about 60 miles per week and I was handling it well.  I went into the race feeling pretty confident.  My goal was to run a 3:45:00 and I ended up bettering that by 3 minutes:  3:42:00, an 18 minute PR!  I also got to run with a bunch of great people, many of whom I had met in person at the Ragnar race in February.  Getting to meet a bunch of people I had only known online was an incredible treat as well.

A smile at the finish of the Marine Corps Marathon

This last part of the year has been spent recovering a little bit from a wonky hip, but it’s mostly been spent setting my goals for 2012.  I’ll get to that in a post in a few days.

I’ve learned a ton this year and look forward to more of the same next year.

“Remember that today, it doesn’t matter who is the fastest, or who is the strongest. It only matters who’s willing to endure. You’ve trained and trained and now it’s time to go out and complete this mission.”

At every marathon you go to, it’s someone’s job to rile up the runners and get them motivated before the race begins. They play loud, high-energy music and they talk the runners up over loudspeakers. But somehow, standing in the corrals just yards from Arlington National Cemetery, hearing those words coming from a Marine whose own missions were far more important than a particular time goal in marathon, I knew this day would be different.

Rewind two days.

As I waited in Cincinnati to board my plane to Reagan National on Friday, I looked around the waiting area to see if I could spot any other runners. At a marathon as big as the Marine Corps Marathon, it’s a pretty good bet that any flight coming into the host city will have at least a few runners on it, and this one was no different. They’re easy to spot: they’re probably a little anxious from the taper so they can’t stand still, they’re likely wearing running shoes, and they’re also looking around for fellow crazy people soon to take on 26.2 miles. After spotting a few candidates in the waiting area, I smiled when my guesses were confirmed in-flight. Here’s a snippet from the conversation of the two people sitting directly behind me on the flight, one of whom I had spotted pacing at the gate:

 ”Are you from D.C.?”

“No, I’m going there to run the Marine Corps Marathon.”

“Ohhh! Good for you. How long is that one?”

I watched smiles cross the faces of a few of us when we heard the question, confirming their status as runners. Before getting off the plane in D.C., we all wished one another good luck in the race on Sunday. A great, positive way to start out the weekend.

My sister and her husband live outside Washington, so they volunteered to pick me up from the airport and take me to the hotel in Arlington. It’s such a relief to just skip over the worry of wondering how to get from place to place without really knowing the city. Once I got settled in to the hotel, we had dinner together too. Since we hadn’t seen one another since last Christmas, it was great to have the time to catch up.

Saturday morning came, and with it came horrible weather. Rainy, very cold, and reports of it turning to snow later in the day. This same weather system dumped 30″ of snow in some areas of New York and Connecticut, setting new records for October snowfall. But the weather couldn’t dampen the enthusiasm to get going and get prepared for the race. On the docket for Saturday was packet pickup at the Expo, followed by lunch and a Dailymile meetup. And umbrellas. Many, many umbrellas.

If I had one complaint about the entire experience of MCM, it would be the seemingly poorly planned Expo. This is a major marathon with over 21,000 runners registered, but the venue for the Expo was entirely too small to accommodate that many runners and their families and friends. I’m certain that the foul weather didn’t help at all, but forcing everyone to stand outside in the cold in lines to get your bib first, then to just get into the Expo was crazy. Once inside you had to be committed to want to buy something. Thirty minute lines awaited anyone needing to get to the cash registers. The building simply wasn’t meant to hold that many people. Honestly, it was a relief to just get the hell out of there once we were all done.

The dreariness of the day completely turned around when we got the Dailymile meetup. Getting the opportunity to meet people in real life who have been so supportive and so helpful online was just incredible. Hearing everyone’s goals for the race also got me excited about my own plan. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: runners are a giving, enthusiastic bunch of people.

Sunday morning finally came after a fitful night’s sleep. I’ve never been able to sleep well the night before a race, so this was not a surprise at all. After having a bit of trouble finding our friends’ hotel in the wee hours, we finally got the whole group together and were on our way to start corrals. I’ll admit it, I’m kind of crazy about not being late, so cutting it so close to the gun time had me a bit nervous, but we made it with 10 minutes or so to spare. And since it was about 38°F outside, I don’t think a lot more standing around trying to keep warm would have been helpful anyway. The sun was brightly shining, though, and I’d much rather run in the the cold than the heat and humidity.  Perfect running weather.

As the minutes ticked down to the 8:00AM gun, I got more and more excited to get going. Drew Carey was the guest starter for the race after having been featured in Runner’s World’s “I’m A Runner” section a month or two ago. Finally, at 8:00, the gun went off and we were under way.

My plan was to run the first half of the race at an 8:20 min/mile pace, which would have gotten me to the half marathon point at about 1:49:10, then pick it up to an 8:10 pace if I was still feeling strong. If the stars absolutely aligned and I nailed everything perfectly, I’d finish at 3:36:08, but I knew I’d be thrilled with anything better than 3:45:00.

My sister surprised me by being right at the start of the race. I don’t think I was more than a quarter of a mile in when I heard, “Go Sean Brown!” Man, does that get you going!  The first half of the race features the two big hills – one at mile 2 and another at mile 7.  Somewhere before Georgetown (at about the 9 mile mark), I decided to shed the light jacket I had started with; the sun had warmed things up a bit, so I no longer needed it. The Georgetown section of the race is a huge boost as the crowd support there is just phenomenal. It was about there that I took my first of three gels.

When I got the halfway point, I assessed how I was feeling and so far, and I felt good. I hit halfway at 1:48:05, so I had done a pretty good job of hitting the pace I wanted, but I did get there a little over a minute quicker that I should have. I also took my second gel just after the halfway point. The miles ticked on, I saw my sister and brother-in-law a few more times, and I was doing a decent job of holding the second half 8:10 pace. As I look back over my splits, I do find a couple of miles at 8:02 and 8:03, and yes, I would pay for these later. I can see the first slower mile at 22 (8:30), which is just after crossing over the 14th St bridge, which seemed endless. I took the third and final gel sometime around 21 or 22. The next few miles would see my pace really erode, going from 8:30 at 22, to 8:25 at 23, 8:56 at 24 and 9:35 at 25. I remember checking my watch often during that stretch but was unable to muster the brain power to figure out what was happening. I finally pushed through the fog, willed myself to go harder and got through the finish line running well.

When I looked down at my Garmin I saw 3:42:01, a huge smile crossed my face. I had taken nearly 20 minutes off my previous best marathon time.  Mission accomplished.

A smiling finisher's photo

I did come away with a few things I plan to do differently in future races.  The first is obvious:  do an even better job managing my pace.  I did a much better job here than I had done before, but I’ll need to be even better if I plan to improve.  I also think I’ll go a little heavier on in-race nutrition.  I only did three gels this time and I think my late race confusion was a result of that.  I’ve learned that the nutrition you take in can have as much impact on the mental side of marathoning as it does the physical.  Finally, I really need to learn how to run the downhills.  No big mistakes there in MCM, but I never felt comfortable like I knew what I should be doing.

I absolutely loved this race. The scenery, the great crowd support, the Marines not only manning the water stations, but also posted all along the race course, the opportunity to run a major race with friends, my sister cheering me on, and, of course, training hard and beating my goal.  A huge, huge day for me as a runner.

Postscript. As I boarded the flight home, I found the same handful of runners that I had shared the flight to D.C. were also sharing the flight home. We all shared our great experiences with the race and, of course, discussed what we planned to run next. A great ending to an incredible weekend.

Not a whole lot to report at the moment.  I’m just getting back into the everyday groove after taking it slow after Toronto.  I’m also getting back to running early in the morning to avoid the hottest part of the day.  As is typical of Cincinnati, it seems like we skipped a real spring and went directly to summer.  The past few days have felt more like August:  90s and very humid.

I have have two races on my calendar for the remainder of this year.

1. The Air Force Half Marathon on September 17, 2011.
2. The Marine Corps Marathon on October 30, 2011.

I’ve decided to take a more realistic approach to the MCM race than I had originally planned.  Going into 2011, I had thought that I’d run a spring marathon, then valut directly to a fall marathon where I planned to qualify for Boston.  Based on my results from Toronto, I don’t think it would be smart to do that — shave 40 minutes off my PR at the marathon distance — so I am aiming for a 3:40:00 marathon at the Marine Corps.

I’m also nearly giddy with excitement to do my second Ragnar Relay.  This time, we’re doing the Florida Keys relay in January, which will be night and day different from the Del Sol relay we did out in the Arizona desert earlier this year.

“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”

Yes, I realize this saying is related to weddings and it’s typically reserved for the bride, but it seems appropriate for my race report for the Toronto Marathon, so I’m stealing it.

Something Old

That would be me.  I am now officially an old man who cringes at the sounds of a party.  In the hotel room next to me.  The night before a marathon.

Becuase my kids had a full day of baseball games and tournaments on their schedule for Saturday, and because my parents were also in town visiting, I didn’t want to leave Cincinnati until Saturday evening.  My flight got me into Toronto at about 8:30 PM and to the hotel by about 9:30 PM.  As I made my way down the hallway to my room, I could hear loud music and a bunch of people obviously in full party mode.  There were plenty of, “Dude!  That’s so cool!” to be heard.  It reminded me of dorm parties in college.  So I called down to get my room moved, which they did without any fuss at all. After getting situated, I got to bed by about 11:00 PM.  Not too bad.  Now, I typically don’t sleep well the night before any race, so I didn’t expect a full 6 hours, but I also didn’t expect to hear from Dude and the Dudettes again either.  But, Dudes ‘R Us and crew decided that the hotel couldn’t possibly contain their “epic blowout” (that’s an actual quote), so they noisily made their way to the elevator.  And back.  Twice.  2:00 AM and 4:00 AM.

Dude.  Not righteous.  I felt like the old man at the end of every Scooby Doo cartoon.  ”And I would have made it, too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids…”

Something New

I went down to the start area early on Sunday morning.  This was a well organized set of races, and the way they set things up was great.  The half marathoners started at 8:00 AM, the marathon started at 9:00 AM, marathon relay runners went off at 9:20 AM and the 5K start was at 10:00 AM.  That made for almost no congestion at the beginning of the race.  No time spent zig-zagging in and out in order to keep any kind of pace at all.  Loved it.  They also had an indoor area where runners could wait before the start, which helped me a ton.  Since I couldn’t make it to Toronto until late the evening before, I had completely missed the expo, which meant I had to pick up my bib Sunday morning before the race start.  It was pretty cold Sunday morning, in the mid-40s, and it was raining off and on, so being able to relax inside for the hour and a half I had until the gun went off was very welcome indeed.

Another “new”.  The race started promptly at 9:00 AM in a light drizzle and temps somewhere in the 40s.  I had made the call that morning to wear a long sleeve running shirt instead of the short sleeve one I had thought I would be wearing.  Later on, I’d be very glad I did.  I settled in early and found my pace pretty easily, right at about 8:30 min/mile.  There were a few nice downhills and one decent uphill pretty early on, but even with those, I managed to keep my pace pretty steady.  As I was running along, I realized something the “something new” that should have been incredibly obvious:  I wasn’t in the U.S.  More specifically, the markers along the course were all in kilometers, not miles.  Didn’t seem like much of a big deal, I’d just keep watching my Garmin to keep on pace.  Until I couldn’t.

Something Borrowed

Just after the halfway point, the course takes the runners under a large, relatively long underpass.  This was borrowed from the Chicago Marathon, I’m certain, because how else could I keep up this ridiculous analogy?  In Chicago, that underpass is right after the start, and it threw me for a loop then too.  That same kind of satellite-blocking underpass in Toronto was far later in the race, but it had the same result for me:  mild panic.  When I glanced at my watch for the next couple of miles, it was reporting really odd paces.  Like 13:00 minute miles although I hadn’t slowed a bit.  The great part was that we got to go through it again at about mile 24 and mess me up one last time before the end.  I need to investigate this more so that I don’t get mentally thrown by this in the future.  That, and I need to begin wearing a pace bracelet so I only really need to know my elapsed time.  Lesson learned.

One other borrowed item; a quote.  All week long prior to the race, the weather report kept getting worse and worse.  Last Monday, the race day forecast was mid 50s and overcast with a slight chance of rain.  As the week progressed, it deteriorated to what it actually ended up being on race day:  high 40s/low 50s, steady-ish rain with wind gusts from the north at 20-30 mph.  After seeing that, a friend of mine sent me a quote from Bill Bowerman, the famed University of Oregon track coach:  ”There is no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.”  I kept repeating that to myself after making the turn back towards the finish.  This out and back portion of the course is a tough, long slog under good circumstances, but it was even harder on Sunday.  The turn for the change from “out” to “back” is made in the middle of mile 19, and honestly, I was hurting by then.  As I made the turn, we found three wonderful things greeting us:  steadier rain, a long slow uphill, and the hard wind in our faces.  I wished I had borrowed Bowerman’s steely resolve because my pace really deteriorated during this stretch.

Something Blue

Once again, the something blue was me.  More on that in a moment.

As I fought hard through the last portion of the race, I found myself having to stop to walk every now and again because I found myself cramping pretty badly.  Just my hamstrings at first, then lots of other leg muscles later.  While I had been alternating Gatorade and water at the stops in the second half of the race, I still don’t think I did a good job with my electrolytes.   I had absolutely no issues at all with dizziness and my heart, which was a huge relief, not only to me, but to my family and friends as well.  But, I think if I would have done a better job managing that, I could have finished the race a bit stronger.  Another lesson learned.

When I finally made my way into Queen’s Park for the finish line, I was just physically wrecked.  I know you’re supposed to be, but since this was my first marathon where I ran the whole way, I hadn’t really experienced the physical toll before.  I couldn’t get myself to run, even though I had just a quarter of a mile or so to go.  I tried repeatedly, but I had nothing in the tank.  One of the race volunteers wearing a red vest saw me struggling and came up to me to help.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Hurting,” was all I could muster.

“Sick or just tired?”

“Not sick,”  I said.

“OK, so let’s try something.  No running yet, but let’s just see if you can bounce a bit.”  And so I bounced.  ”Let’s turn that into a shuffle. Just a shuffle.”  And I started to shuffle.  ”Doing great.  Can you make it a jog?”  So I jogged.  ”Don’t look now, but you’re about to enter the chute.  50 meters to go.”

I looked at the finish line, looked her in the eye and said, “Thank you,” as I took off to finish my vindication marathon running.

Whomever you are, thank you.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you.  Amazing what a positive impact a complete stranger can have.

After crossing the finish line, I kind of stumbled my way through getting my medal, a mylar blanket, a carton of chocolate milk and a bagel.  I asked a volunteer to point out where the shuttle buses back to the hotel were.  My flight back home was at 4:30 and by then it was a little after 1:00, so I knew I couldn’t waste much time.  I made my way to the buses and  started to shiver a bit since the wind was still up and I was soaked, head to toe. I, along with about 6 other marathoners gingerly climbed the stairs of the bus, then ever-so-slowly sat down in our seats.  After sitting and enjoying the heated bus for about 5 minutes, the driver announced that the bus taking us to the Marriott had just pulled up.  ”We need to get off this bus?”  ”You sure do.”  And in unison, 7 rain-soaked, exhausted, freezing runners, said, “F*#k.”  Pretty comical moment.

We slowly moved from one bus to the other, and in another minute, we were pulling away to head to the hotel.  After what only seemed like three blocks, our driver said, “OK, you’ll hop off here, then go down this block, make a left, and the Marriott is 2 blocks up.”  ”You mean we have to get out and walk?” asked the Grumpy 7.  ”You sure do.”  And we all sang the same refrain again.

By the time I walked to the hotel and was waiting for the elevator, I was shaking uncontrollably I was so cold and tired.  A group of people who were walking toward the same bank of elevators stopped talking all at once to say, “You look kind of blue.  And cold.”

A warm shower has never felt so good.  And I did make it to the airport on time, made the flight, and was able to get back to my family in time to exchange marathon stories for baseball stories.

This marathon truly was a vindication for me.  After having to walk/run the entire second half of the Chicago Marathon last fall due to a knee injury, then blacking out after the 16th mile at the Flying Pig two weeks ago, this one was my first, solid, no injury, no issues marathon.  I went into it not necessarily caring what time I ran, just wanting to complete it running and anything else was gravy.

I learned a lot of lessons out there on Sunday.  I learned that I’m not quite as far along as a runner as I thought I was.  That’s not me beating myself up, it’s just me looking at the facts, and I am completely OK with that.  Now I know what I need to improve if I want better times.  I also learned that I need to rely a lot less on my Garmin to help me keep pace.  Sometimes simple really is better.

And finally, I learned that when you set a goal for yourself, and you let nothing stop you from getting to it, not even fear, you can remind yourself, your kids, your wife and your family, that anything can be achieved.

When I started this marathon training cycle, I had set my goals to be:  A) 4 hour marathon, B) 3:50:00 as a stretch, and C) 3:45:00 if everything went absolutely perfect.  Well, I attained my A goal by running a 4:00:40 marathon, and I’m damn proud of it.

1. I received good news from the cardiologist.  The thickening of the walls of my heart are nowhere near what you’d see in a disease state, like you might see in hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.   He told me it’s simply something I need to be aware of, and to take extra steps to make sure I hydrate properly.  That’s something that’s in my control to do.  When I asked him if I could keep running, he said, “Absolutely.  Just hydrate better.”  ”Running marathons?”  ”Yes, knock yourself out.”  Having a cardiologist with a sense of humour is of dubious comfort.
2. I want to.  I admit it.  I put in a lot of hard work over the last 4½ months to prepare, so I’d like to see this through until the end.  In my way of thinking, what happened last Sunday was a stumble, and I want to move on.
3. The most important reason to do this, however, is not for me.  It’s for my family.  I cannot allow the lasting memory they have of me in a marathon to be me face down on the side of the road.  It makes my kids afraid and it makes my wife worry.  My sisters and parents too.  Since the Pig, every time I’ve left the house and said, “I’m going for a run,” I could see the worry in their eyes.  I want it to go back to two weeks ago when there was pride in their eyes when I was heading out for my run.  I know that’s too much to ask so soon, but I believe that this will go a long way toward helping their healing begin.  And I want my boys to learn a hard life lesson:  you don’t fold your hand every time you’re faced with adversity.  Get up, get back out there and fight.

Funny running t-shirt

Sunday morning, May 1st, started early.  While my alarm was set for 4:00AM, it wasn’t really needed as I had a fitful night’s sleep and was awake before it ever went off.  Par for the course on race day eve for me.  I never sleep well before races, so I got up, got dressed and went downstairs to start getting ready to head down to the Flying Pig Marathon.  I ate my typical breakfast, took in a bottle of water with some electrolytes then got in the car to go to the race.

I have never been so confident going into a race before.  All of my training, including a tune-up half marathon about a month ago, went very, very well.  I had a goal I felt like I could reach and a plan to make it happen.  The weather is always a factor in an event like this, and frankly, it wasn’t cooperating.  Here’s what the forecast showed that morning.

Weather forecast for the Flying Pig

There are some things in life I can’t control, and the weather is surely one of them.

Once down at the race, I had a bit more water with electrolytes, made one more quick trip to the portapotties, then went to my corral and found the pace group I planned to follow:  3:45:00.  My spirits were high and I was still feeling great about the marathon.  As it had last year at the Flying Pig, the rain started about 15 minutes before the gun went off, so we all stood there trying to keep as dry as we could waiting to hear the countdown to the start.  And soon, the gun did go off and the Flying Pig Marathon was under way.

One thing you learn to accept as a runner is that some days you’ll just feel it and the whole run will seem effortless. Other days will feel like you’re working hard for every stride.  I got a taste of the effortless, cruising feeling at the Heart Half Marathon in March.  Although I held a quicker pace than I had ever run, I never felt like I was really pushing hard.  Sunday was not at all that way.  Right from the beginning, the 8:35 pace I planned to keep in order to reach my goal felt like work.  I wasn’t struggling, just working.  So be it.  That’s why you train, in order to know how you’ll react when it’s easy, and what it will feel like when you have to push hard to get there.  While training for this race, I had three 20+ mile runs.  The first 20 miler and the next 21 mile run fell into the “cruising” category.  The last 20 miler was work.  All three of them were run at about the same average pace and on the same course, it’s just that the effort level to accomplish them felt different.  Again, that’s why we train.

So the race went on and the miles went by.  Even the big hills between miles 5 and 8 weren’t so bad.  As I was approaching the Hyde Park area (at about miles 9 and 10), I got to see some friends cheering, and I knew I’d see my wife and two boys as well.  And sure enough I got some high fives and “Go Dad!” cheers.  That’s always a pick-me-up.  At this point, my average pace was about 8:27, right about where I wanted it to be.  Everything was going according to plan.

Just after after mile 14, nature called.  I’ve never had to stop to use “the facilities” during a race before, but sometimes when ya gotta go, ya gotta go.  Since I was a bit ahead of schedule pace-wise, I wasn’t concerned about it, and just got back to running when I was done.

Soon after the 15 mile mark, I got to see my wife and kids again, which was a surprise.  Because my younger son had a baseball game scheduled for Sunday, I only expected to see them that one time back in Hyde Park, so it was great to get another jolt of energy.  As I approached the 16 mile marker, I had another surprise, but this one not so good: I got a little bit light-headed and dizzy.  A few seconds of internal debate lead me to decide to stop and walk for a small bit, and that seemed to clear the cobwebs, so I went back to running after maybe 15-20 seconds of walking.  When I started running again, I felt strong with no more dizziness at all.  I passed the 16 mile marker and checked my watch:  2:16:04, still right on the money at an average pace of 8:30/mile, so the small bathroom break and the short walking stint hadn’t really affected my goal pace badly at all.

I was about to enter part of the course that doubles back upon itself.  I wondered if I’d get to see my family one more time since they wouldn’t have had to move at all to see me again, but I couldn’t do the mental math to know if waiting would make my son late for his game, so I tried not to get my hopes up.

Then everything went black.

The next thing I remember was waking up, face down on the side of the road.  People were shaking me saying, “Are you OK?”  and “Wake up!”  and “Is it OK to turn him over?” and “Call 911.”

I had collapsed on the course.

When I came to, I remember wondering why I was in the dirt and leaves, and how I got there.  These memories are only in tiny slices because I wasn’t quite with it yet, but I remember a runner stopping and saying, “I’m a physician.  I’ll stay with him until the EMTs get here.”  I have no idea how much time passed but I do remember EMTs asking me questions.  At some point, I noticed my wife and two boys were there, and it registered with me that they were visibly (and in retrospect, understandably) upset.  As they closed the door on the ambulance, they told me they were letting my younger son ride up front to distract him with the lights and sirens.

Two small side trips into history, one from a long time ago and one more recent.  When I was 13 years old, I started to have trouble with dizziness and getting light-headed during exercise.  I noticed it while at basketball practice that year.  I had a bunch of tests run at the time to try to find a cause.  One thought was that it was blood sugar-related, so they ran a glucose tolerance test on me.  Another thought was that it was heart-related, so I had to wear a portable EKG for a week (including during basketball practice).  The result of all of that:  nothing.  No heart issues, no blood sugar issues.

Last summer as I had started training for my first marathon, I noticed an occasional bout with light-headedness, especially on warm, humid days.  I decided to visit a nutritionist and one of the main pieces of advice she gave me was to drastically increase the amount of water I was taking in on a daily basis.  Based on the amount of running I was doing, I was not hydrating to meet my body’s needs especially with all of the exercise.  So, I started drinking at least 2L of water daily and haven’t stopped.  Since making that change, I hadn’t had any issues with getting dizzy running (until Sunday).

Back to Sunday.  Once at the hospital, they did 5 tests so see what was going on: a urinalysis, a blood analysis, a chest X-ray, an MRI and an EKG.  From all of those tests, only two things showed up as problematic.  I was extremely dehydrated and I had a bacterial infection.  Nothing regarding the heart, head or lungs at all.  As soon as I saw my urine when giving them a sample, I could have told them it would come back as dehydrated.  It was way too dark and most runners become pretty attuned to that color as an indication of their hydration after a run.  I saw three different doctors that day, including a cardiology fellow from the Cleveland Clinic.  She told us we had nothing to worry about, that this was a simple case of dehydration syncope and that I needed to do a better job of taking in fluids during the race.  She went so far as to say that I would have never been admitted to her hospital; this hospital was being far too cautious.  The other two doctors also independently came to the same conclusion:  the tests showed nothing to indicate any serious underlying issue.  However, they still wanted to get an echocardiogram (ECG) to make sure.

The plan was to get the ECG first thing Monday morning, then get it read by the cardiology specialist, and assuming everything was good, I’d be out of there before 10:00 AM.  I’ll write another hospital rant post at some point, but in the end, the ECG was completed and the cardiologist called back to give me the results.  Same as before, with one small wrinkle.  The valves looked good, the blood flow looked good, the rhythm was good, and communication between the two sides of the heart was working properly.  However, he did notice a thickening of the walls of the heart.  When I asked what that could mean, he said it would make me more susceptible to passing out if I got dehydrated, but other than that, I’d be fine.  So I asked him if I had any resctrictions and he said none.  ”You mean I could go running tomorrow?”  ”Sure, just make certain to stay hydrated.”

At that point I finally got to go home (11:00 PM, for those keeping score).  In my excitement to be leaving the hospital, I did not ask very many follow up questions.  Once I got home, I couldn’t sleep quite yet so I decided to do some research on thickening of the heart walls, and honestly, I scared the hell out of myself.  The first thing you come across is a disease called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Otherwise known as the #1 cause of sudden death in athletes.  Scary stuff.  Since then, I’ve had to keep reminding myself that the cardiologist did NOT say I had HCM, he said he noticed that the walls of my hear are a bit thickened.  I’m still waiting on a call back from the doctor to get that, and a handful of other questions answered.

The Flying Pig did not turn out the way I thought it would, obviously.  What did happen put a pretty big scare in me and maybe even more so, my family.  The doctors have given me a very clear message, that I shouldn’t be hampered by this at all in the future, assuming I do a better job hydrating, so I’ve decided to not let this stop me from doing the thing I love: running.  My first post race/emergency room visit will be tonight.

During this whole ordeal, I got absolutely amazing support from so many people, far and wide.  My family checked in on me constantly, my wife’s family helped occupy my boys while they worked on me at the hospital, and my running friends from all over helped keep my spirits up via text and Twitter.  Thank you all so much.

To wrap this up, I thought I’d post my Garmin data from my run.  The amusing thing about it is that you can see where I come to a stop after mile 16, but nobody paused my Garmin, as the t-shirt above suggested.  So you can see my journey from the Flying Pig Course to the hospital, all covered in exquisite detail.

Only one more double digit run — a 12 miler this weekend — and then the taper begins.

I had signed up for the Cincinnati Heart Half Marathon quite a while ago, but I really looked at it as a training run. This weekend is the end of a ‘step-back’ week in my marathon training, so prudence would have told me to just take it easy. But a few weeks ago, I surprised myself at the Ragnar Relay by turning in all three of my legs at under 8:00/mile paces. And I felt strong and healthy afterward as well. That left me feeling pretty confident about the progress I’ve made in my running. Earlier this week, a gorgeous March day motivated me to try a short run at a faster pace and I came away from that feeling good as well. I know a fast four mile run doesn’t mean I can handle a long run at that pace yet, but I did come away thinking it wasn’t completely out of the question either.

After that run, my friend (and Ragnar teammate) Steve Speirs, who is just an outstanding runner, suggested that based on my recent running, I could be capable of a 1:45:00 in the half this weekend. This is the same guy who just set a 50K PR by 30 minutes while coming in 3rd overall, and is the two time defending champion of the Cayman Islands Marathon, so he knows what he’s talking about. I have to be honest, good recent running or not, it wouldn’t have ever entered my mind to attempt a half marathon averaging better than 8:00/mile had he not said it.

So this weekend, I decided to race the half rather than just run it. I exchanged messages with Madison Gerstle, a local runner who told me she was gunning for a 1:45:00 in order to secure a corral spot at the upcoming Kentucky Derby Half Marathon. Her plan was to line up near the 1:45 pace group and see what happens. Great idea! So I copied it. Sure enough, just a few minutes before the gun, we saw each other hanging out near the pace group, exchanged good luck wishes and off we went.

It took me a couple miles to really find a groove, but once I did, I thought I actually had a shot at holding this pace. While I knew I was working, I felt smooth and strong, so I just kept hanging with the pace group. My wife and sons came to cheer me on, so each time I saw them, I got a little boost of energy, which is huge in a race like this. The weather today was kind of cold and drizzly, so the fact that they kept out there cheering was great.

Just before a crazy hill at mile 6, I pulled away from 8:00/mile pace group after passing a water stop.  This hill is just ¼ of a mile long, but climbs 109 feet in that short distance.  I’ve done a pretty good job of mixing hills into my marathon training since the Flying Pig has lots of them as well, so I powered up, then cruised back down.  At the end of the hill, I got to see my family once again, so that little burst got me going again.  After that, I never looked back.  While I was nervous about leaving the pace group, I knew if I could just keep my turnover consistent, I could hold the pace I was running, which was just about 7:55/mile.  Madison and I continued to see each other on the course, so I knew she was ahead of her goal and had some time in the bank.  We had a quick laugh about being glad to be past that killer climb and she also told me that every time I saw my family, I got a little pep in my step!

The rest of the race is a bit of a blur.  I know we made our way into to downtown briefly, then headed over one of the bridges to Kentucky, then quickly back over to Ohio on a different bridge.  While briefly in Kentucky, I know I saw my family again, but that’s about the extent of what I remember.  After heading back into downtown Cincinnati, I knew we had a little over a mile and a half left to the finish.  I glanced at my watch and saw something in the neighborhood of 1:30:00, so I knew I was going to beat my goal.  With a smile on my face, I decided to see what I had left in the tank and push hard to the finish line.  As I tapped my Garmin, I looked down and saw 1:42:44.  My chip time was 1:42:43, more than 9:00 minutes better than my previous PR at the Spirit of Columbus Half Marathon.  Madison also got her corral spot by running a PR and getting her sub 1:45:00.

After making my way through the finishing shoot, I found my wife and my boys and got giant hugs.  I had tears in my eyes as I hugged Michelle, because she alone knew I wanted to run this race to shake off a few demons from last year.  I had not yet shaken the feeling of guilt for running the mini marathon at this race last year and then missing being with her as her father slipped away from us.  I had run the race, then immediately hopped on a flight to get to her, but he died while I was in the air.  The race today, with Michelle there cheering for me, has given me a bit of closure.  I thought of her dad a number of times throughout the race today, and I’m sure she did too.  While the sadness never completely goes away, this little step today helped.