I had decided on a plan for the race and checked it out with my coach, Luke Humphrey.  The plan was to try to run a 3:30:00 marathon and to do so by negative-splitting the race:  run the first half at an average pace of 8:05/mile, then crank it up to 7:50/mile for the second half.  The 7:50 pace on the back half wasn’t exactly necessary (a 3:30:00 is an 8:00/mile average), but my history at the marathon has me slowing down considerably in the last few miles, so I built that in to my plan.

After a fitful night’s sleep (as usual), race morning was finally here.  The weather forecast was for a cold-ish, kind of blustery day, with the race start at about 35 degrees.  Luckily, I brought throwaway clothes to keep me warm while waiting around for the starting gun.  Here’s me and my two sons just before we left the hotel for the race.

Pre-race with my sons

Nope, those aren’t pajamas, those are hospital pants.  And yes, those are the hospital pants from a decidedly different outcome at the Flying Pig about a year ago.  They were chosen for three reasons:

1. A not-so-subtle reminder to myself to stay hydrated.
2. I’m tired of that memory and wanted to throw it away, too.
3. They’re cheap (hospital bills not included, local taxes may vary).

After a bit of a traffic snarl getting into the start area, I gave my wife and two boys final hugs, went to the waiting area and made the requisite last minute trip to the porta potties, stretched, took a Hammer gel with caffeine, then waited for the gun to go off.  I tucked in behind the 3:30 pace group, knowing that I be letting them go during the first half, but I also knew I needed help to keep things nice and easy at the beginning.  I have a bit of a nasty habit of going out too fast, and I knew I wouldn’t achieve what I wanted to do if I did that again.

I got to see my family for the first time just after the two mile mark.  They had made signs and were cheering like crazy.

My son with his sign

It’s such a huge pick-me-up to get to see your family there cheering for you.  I am so thankful they made the trip and stood out in the cold to watch me run.  I saw them again at about the 7 mile mark (where I took my first gel), then again at about 12.

Mile 12, still feeling good.

I had made myself a little paper with some split times I was hoping to reach, so when I hit the halfway point, I was glad to see I was just a bit under my plan:  1:45:15.  So far, so good.  Now it was time to go to work and pick up the pace.

The miles between the halfway point and about mile 19 are a bit of a blur.  I can’t say I remember much about these miles, with the exception of the wind picking up a tad.  I know I got to see my wife and kids a couple of times, and photographic evidence suggests I was hanging in there.

Mile 18-ish

Just after mile 19, I got to see my family another time, only this time my dad had joined my kids and wife.  I knew there was a possibility that he and my mom might make it, but since I hadn’t seen them yet, I assumed I wouldn’t.  Getting a high five from him was a nice boost just as I was really starting to feel the work I had put in.  Most runners will tell you that the marathon really doesn’t start until mile 20 when you have that final 10K to go, and I agree, so getting to see my dad really helped going into that last section.  Speaking of support, knowing I’d need every bit of support I could get for this race, I had taken the audio from a video clip my older sister had made of me at the 2011 Marine Corps Marathon and put it on my iPod.  In it, she’s cheering like crazy for me, so getting to hear that every 45 minutes or so was very cool.

That last 10K was tough.  In fact, I’ll admit it, I hit a very real low point at mile 21 where I didn’t think I could keep pushing.  I remember seeing other runners starting to walk and thinking to myself, “Man, it must feel good to be relaxing.”  When I look at my splits for the race, mile 21 was my worst, by far: 8:22/mile.  I did manage to snap myself out of that thinking, took my last gel, and began to push again.  Once I got to 24, I was really digging deep but I knew I could stand any amount of pain for those last two+ miles.  I told myself to keep pushing until I hear my Garmin beep and then I could tick off one more half mile.  Next thing I know, I was rounding a corner and entering the campus of University of Toledo and I knew the finish line wasn’t far off.  Whatever little bit I had left in the tank was put toward that final push because I knew my goal was within reach, but it was going to be close.  As I entered the chute, I saw my family cheering for me, I put my head down and just gave it everything I had.

Just before entering the chute, determined to meet my goal

As I crossed the finish line, I stopped my Garmin, glanced down and saw 3:29:51.  Barring any huge difference from my chip time, I had done it.  My chip time ended up being 3:29:54.

Official Results of the Glass City Marathon

With my boys just after finishing

My dad holding me up while I fight off post-race cramps

Aside from a great overall result, one of the things I’m most proud of is finally shaking off bad starts (too fast) and bad endings (slowing way down).  With the mile 21 exception I mentioned above, my splits are pretty consistent with what I wanted to do.  My final 5.2 miles splits were 8:02, 8:01, 8:01, 7:57, 7:57 and 7:31 for the final 0.2.  For the curious, here’s the Garmin data.

1. Proof that I’ve been making progress in the training I’ve been doing.
2. Build confidence for the Glass City Marathon in April.
3. A new half marathon PR by 2:44.

I was pretty relaxed going into the race since this isn’t really the race I’m training for, but I still wanted to do well.  After you’ve put in a lot of hours in training, even if it isn’t the ultimate prize you’re shooting for, you want to have a good showing. When I got to the race at about 7:30 AM, it was so humid, there was dense fog everywhere, so that got me a bit worried but the temperatures were only in the low 60s, so it wasn’t too bad. Together with my coach Luke Humphrey, I had set a goal to finish in the low 1:40s.  In my head I thought I was capable of a 1:40:00 half marathon, but I knew I wasn’t as rested as I would be for a goal race, so anything better than a 1:44:00 should be considered a victory.

My plan was straightforward: start conservatively and then ratchet it up little by little.  I planned to get into a groove in the first two miles by going out at 8:05, then run miles 3-6 at 7:45, kick it up to 7:35 for 7-10, then see what I had left in the tank to finish things off.  My actual splits went like this:  7:47, 7:48, 7:40, 7:48, 7:43, 7:40, 7:35, 7:45, 7:36, 7:31, 7:27, 7:21, 7:22, then 7:21 for the final 0.1.

So, clearly, I did not do a good job of going out under control! That’s been a bad habit of mine at a number of races, so I need to find a way to take it easy at the start line.  Damn competitiveness.  I did seem to settle in and hit my stride by about mile 3, though, then did a much better job of following the plan from there. When I got to about 6 miles in, I was already starting to “feel” the work I was doing, and honestly, that got me a bit worried.  In the midst of the race, I thought it was too early, but I managed to shake that thought and just kept pushing. The turn around (it was an out and back race) was just before mile 8 and that was really my low point, a point where I doubted that I could keep pushing. When I look at the Garmin data (which is down below), I can see that it was also the peak of the climbing, so maybe it’s not so surprising. Again, I pushed through the feeling, and the more I saw that I was keeping to the plan, the more confident I got. During miles 10  and 11, I must have looked down at my watch about 20 times because I felt like I was really slowing down, yet my watch assured me I was staying right around a 7:30 pace, so I used that confidence to keep pushing hard.  I knew I could stand any amount struggle for two more miles. The last two were pretty much a blur as I just kept focussing on maintaining pace and ticking off half miles to the end. When I stopped my watch at the finish line and looked down to see 1:39:59, a big smile crossed my face. If my watch was right (and it turned out to be an exact match to my chip time), I had just PRed by 2:44.  I came in 89th out of 675 runners.

A good day for sure. Quite a shot in the arm with a little less than a month to go until the Glass City Marathon.

Here’s the Garmin data.

The tough part on my ego is that you don’t go into a race like this as well rested as you would a goal race.  Tapering for a goal race is typically a two week process to make sure you you enter the race on fresh legs.  This won’t be the case for this half marathon.  I am easing back just a bit this week, but will by no means be rested.

I think I’m capable of running a 1:40:00 half marathon, so that’s the goal I’ve set for myself.  My personal record for the half is a 1:42:43 set at the Heart Mini Half Marathon last March, so shaving nearly three minutes from a half marathon time is a pretty tall order.  If the weather cooperates and I have a good morning running, I think I can do it.

I do need to keep in mind that this is not my goal race and that doing something stupid that sets back marathon training would be a mistake.  The plan I’ve put together has me going out kind of conservatively for the first two miles (8:05 pace), picking it up a bit for miles 3-10 (7:40 pace), then see what I’ve got left for the final 5K. If I’ve still got something in the tank and can crank it down to 7:20s, I’ll make my goal time.  If I don’t have it, I don’t have it.

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.