Marathon #9-Washington DC

October 26th, 2008
Marine Corp Marathon
Washington, DC

When my running mate suggested the Marine Corp Marathon (MCM), I immediately checked the weather history. The gun time starting temperature had been in the upper 40s in four of the last five races. Of my eight previous marathons, only once was the gun time temperature in upper 40s, the day I qualified for Boston.

Secondly I checked the hill profile. Overall, it was moderate with a 160 foot climb from mile 1 to 3. A gentil decline to 5, then another 120 vertical feet from 6 to 8 followed by a sharp 140 foot descent to nine. From there, flat as a pancake until mile 26. Ominously, there was an 80 foot climb up the last quarter mile across the finish line.

To run the hills well, I decided to drop any additional weight I was carrying. Anyone who as ever eaten lunch with me knows this wasn't going to happen by reducing my calorie consumption. Instead I added some cross training by swimming and biking. It did the trick; I dropped five pounds in the first month. Down to skin and bones, I then switch to nightly 3-4 mile walks to maintain an optimal weight. I quickly saw the effects in my training runs. I set training records for both speed and endurance. I dropped a full five minutes off my standard 20 mile long runs. My VOmax speed workouts were down to six minute miles. The reduced weight also helped my recoveries. I had much less strain and pull on my body following hard workouts. Two weeks out, I had full confidence that I would post a personal record (PR), and probably finish around 3:10. The only remaining variable was the weather.

Ten days out the forecast was terrible. Low in upper 50s, high in upper 70s. Over the next week the forecast waxed and waned from terrible to good to moderate. The night before the race the final forecast averaged to moderate. Averaged because the starting time forecast was good: 50 degrees with a west wind. However, the finish time forecast was bad: close to 70 with a maxed 10 UV index. I had run in that condition more than once.

When standing in the shade with 65-70 temperatures, it's feels a bit chilly. When standing in the strong sun, it's warm and nice. But when running 26 miles at close to a 7:00 min/mile pace, it's just bloody hot! This would be especially true for MCM because of the late start. Most marathons start right before the 7:00 a.m. dawn. It is actually still slightly dark during the first three miles. The MCM doesn't start till 8:00. This meant that I would still be on the course at 11:00 as the sun was reaching its apex in a cloudless sky.

The gun, or in this case howitzer, fired at 8:00 and we were off. I ran a casual stride next to the corporate sponsored 3:10 pace leader. As we began the first incline, he advanced 10 yards in front of me. Then 20 yards, 40 yards, at the first hill crest, I was 80 yards behind the pacer and feeling fatigued. Damn! What was happening? After all my intense and focused high quality training, I was struggling to stay with the 3:10 pace group at mile 3?!

As we descended to mile 5, I closed the gap to 50 yards. But as we began the second incline to mile 8, I again fell about 80 yards back and was slightly pushing the effort. As we approached the half way point, I was still 80 yards back; I assumed I was about a minute behind my 3:10 goal pace and my fatigue felt like mile 16, not 13. When I stepped on the timing mat at exactly the 13.1 mile halfway point, I looked at my watch for the first time, 1:33:59. "What the Hell?!" I wasn't a minute behind a 3:10 pace; I was a minute head! The runner next to me looked at his GPS watch and said, "The pace leader is on a 3:07 pace. We have averaged 7:08 min/mile." No wonder I felt fatigued, our pacer had powered up twenty-five stories of incline at 7 minutes per mile!

Mentally, I was split. The fastest half-marathon I had ever run was 1:33:40 on a cold winter day on a much flatter course. I just ran a 1:34 with 250 feet of incline in much warmer conditions. I was in top shape! However, I also knew that I would probably pay for this effort with a pound of flesh come mile 20. I completely ignored the pacer, raised my eyes above the horizon and began to stride my own pace. At mile 15 I unexpectedly found myself within 10 yards of the pace leader. However, it was now almost 10:00 a.m and the sun's intensity was growing. I came to a complete stop at the mile 15 water table to get two full cups in me. The pacer leader ran straight through and was 80 yards ahead again. At mile 17, I again closed the gap to 10 yards, stopped for two full cups and dropped 80 yards back. At mile 19, for a third time, less than 10 yard gap off the pacer leader, two cups, and a football field back.

As we were coming to 20, the heaviness in my legs turned to cramps in my quads. I knew this was coming but I hoped to delay the onset until about mile 23. I was willing to endure the pain for the last 20 minute stretch. But with six and half miles remaining, I dropped off the pace.

I limped along in a world of hurt for the last six miles to finish in 3:25:25 placing 920 out of 18,273 finishers.

Though running with a different group, my running mate John had an identical race. He too finished 15 minutes off his planned pace; he also ran faster than planned through the hills, not because of a mad pace leader, but because he felt strong. Like me, he cramped about mile 18 and struggled in the last fourth. However, he was completely frustrated with his results, I was more than happy.

John is a highly disciplined pacer. He holds in a reserve the first 20 miles or so, then lets loose. He castigated himself for not holding back through the hill section, and running the second half of the course in a faster time. I completely disagree. O.K., maybe on a cold day that is a sound strategy. But you can't expect to run a negative split when the apparent temperature rises about 20 degrees.

Yes, I was a significant 15 minutes off the pace I trained to run. But in absolute terms, this was my second fastest marathon, and I finished in the top five percent. In some ways, this was my best marathon. Given the hills and weather, I probably ran stronger than ever. I still think I am in 3:10 shape, and come the Phoenix marathon in January, I will once again go out to run it.

David

Tapering

Every cycle I get excited about tapering; and every cycle I know the
first week is not exactly a taper as it has 60 miles with some hard
runs.

There's a 10k at full speed, some vomax, and a 17 miler. This
cycle was no exception; it was a hard week. The 10k took a lot out of
me.

The 17 miler was tough as a high presure caused high humidity. It
will nice to really taper down to 43 miles this week.

21 miler

I had been treading the 21 miler long run all week. Saturday morning, I did a 5k in the a.m. with J.


"It was a all girls race ("You go girl") She has beautiful form, perfect pacing. Nice even 16 min / miles (10 min / kms). Finished full three miles non stop and could have easily gone another mile. Most importantly, she said it was great fun. Her official results were14:55 per mile., but she was smart and didn't worry about speed. It's hard to teach adults, let alone children, it's about building a base. Shit, I'm still trying to learn. "


Went to do my 21 miler about 11:00. Ran well, but a little too fast. Finished in 2:59 flat (99 + 80 minutes). Wasn't able to finish a 14 miler next day. Called it quits at 3 figuring that I wasn't doing myself any benefit and just need a recover run.

Two day break

After a great run Monday, and a 6 mile a.m. / 4 mile p.m split Tuesday, I aborted a 14 miler on Wednesday at mile 8.5. As my schedule had a miler 8 within the week, I just substituted.


I decided that I needed to carb up, and was feeling lethargic. I ate like a pig Wednesday night, and all day Thursday with the plan to run 21 on Friday.


Feeling better, but concerned about adding a pound or two this week due to "going to town" on everything edible. Well see how 21 miler goes.

Carbs 2

Last night ate 12 pieces of fruit, five tortillas, and two packages of sushi. Had big baked potato for lunch and five chocalate bars this afternoon.


Today, Will do easy five mile recovery tonight and see how my 21 miler goes Friday afternoon.


Hoping to keep weight down, but have to carb up. If I make it through this week, I should be OK as only two more weeks of serious training follow.

Carbs

I set a goal of losing 12-15 pounds for the Marine Corp marathon. So far so good. Down about 8-10 pounds and running better than ever.


My plan was to eat low carbs any day proceeding a run of 15 miles are less. It caught up with me today. I did a hard 12 on Monday, and 6 mile a.m. / 4 mile p.m yesterday.

Planned to do 14 during lunch today. Called it quits at 9. Just couldn't move, felt lethargic. Will carb up next two todays as I try to make up the 14 miler, and have a scheduled 21 miler Friday.

Marathon #8-Gold Coast, Au

July 11th, 2008
Gold Coast, Australia

I optimistically prepared for all my previous marathons with just one apprehension, the weather. For this run, the weather was the only optimistic variable.

This was my third marathon in six months. Having done Boston just 11 weeks earlier, I prepared with a short 10 week training cycle instead of my usual 15-18. Boston itself was only 12 weeks after Houston and I had a reduced training cycle for it as well. I had not run a complete, and varied, macro training cycle for six months.

My greatest trepidation was the journey. The marathon was just six days after I arrived in Australia. Having made this trip a half dozen times, I knew I would be fatigued after the 27 hour point-to-point transcontinental trip. When I arrived last year, my ankles had swollen to the size of Krispy Cream doughnuts after sitting rolled-up in coach for the 15 hour LA to Sydney segment. They stayed swollen for a week.

I was also concerned about the logistics. Back in February I discussed the marathon with my wife, which means I asked permission to fly up north for a weekend during our trip. To my surprise, my wife responded that it would be great; the Gold Coast has much to see and do. So much so that my wife decided she would come, with: my children, my mother, her mother and father, her sister and brother in-law, her cousin Bronwyn and husband Bob, their three children, Bronwyn's mum and dad, and uncle Richard. We could stay the whole week! There was the natural wildlife bush walk, sea world, the beach swims, and much much more! Certainly a great family outing, but not exactly optimal preparation for a 26.2 mile race.

I became so pessimistic about running a good race, that with just four weeks remaining in my training cycle I decided to switch to the half-marathon. I called my friend John who was preparing for the San Fran marathon. After listening to my lamentations, he concurred and thought I was making the right decision, "Hey, do what you have to do, wussy. Why do the half, maybe they have a two mile senior citizens walk. Perhaps a mom can make room in her baby jogging stroller and push you." Needless to say, I finished my training cycle preparing to run the full marathon.

At least I could be optimistic about the weather. Being on the other side of the equator, it would be the middle of winter. I had been web-surfing the weather in Sydney; the lows were in the 40s, and the highs upper 50s to low 60s. As the Gold Coast was 500 miles to the north, I safely assumed it would be just as cold, and probably colder. Unfortunately, the trip was DownUnder; I should have known that everything would come to fruition in the opposite.

Though I certainly was not in better shape than when I posted my 3:18 in Houston six months earlier, I felt I had maintained that condition. Most corporate sponsors have pace runners staggered every 10 minutes: 3:00, 3:10, 3:20, etc. Gold Coast had 15 minute intervals, 3:00, 3:15, 3:30. With good conditions 3:15 was a good goal as it would be a PR.

For the long flight, I bought airplane compression socks. They go knee high and fit very tightly to induce circulation and prevent blood clotting. They did the trick. My ankles were fine and I ran a nice six mile training run just two days after arriving. A couple Tylenol PM helped me get six hours sleep on the plane which abated my jet lag.

When we arrived at the Gold Coast, the sun was shining and it was a nice 72 degrees. I forgot that in the southern hemisphere, it warms as you go north. The week's forecast called for lows in upper 50s, and highs just above 70. Wonderful for a vacation, less than optimal for setting a marathon PR.

The day before the race, my wife gave me the whole day off. After three days of trekking through various site-seeing destinations, I was allowed to sit at home and stay off my feet while she and the clan hit the sites. I felt good and had no apprehension about fatigue pre-race. Saturday it rained on and off all day. The same was forecasted for race morning.

At dawn the streets were wet and puddled from the day before. It was 57, with 80% humidity, but overcast. Robert De Castella, Australian running legend and a Boston marathon winner, was the starter. After a pep-talk he warned, "It's hot and humid today, well for a marathon; go out slow for the race begins at the half way point." At that, we were off.

By mile 1 the 3:15 pacer was 30 meters ahead of me. Due to congestion this didn't bother me. By mile two, 50 meters. Coming to mile four he was 100 meters ahead. This really dampened my spirits. I felt I was running OK, but I figured I must have slow leg turnover. I hit the mile four split in 29:48, right on pace (just 2 seconds off)! I guess the 3:15 pacer ate a large vegemite breakfast and was going to run his own pace. Good for him, not much help to me.

By mile five I was right on pace, but sweating too much. It then started to drizzle and the air felt heavy. At mile eight I slowed at a water station to refill the handheld bottle of Gatoraid I had been carrying. I guess in Australia, they take water station literally, just water, no Gatoraid or any other electrolyte. This was going to be a problem as dehydration was a probability. I slowed my pace.

I past the half-marathon mark in 1:39:42, right at a 3:20 pace. However, the clouds had partied; the sun began to shine through brightly. At mile 16 I was showing signs of dehydration as my pulse increased and my breathing was shallow. At 18.5, I locked-up. I slowed to 10:00 min/ miles the last seven long miles.

I finished in 3:38:38 placing 863 out of 3630 finishers. Overall, I was ambivalent. I had a respectable time and finished in top 25%, but why off my potential. It was great to run an international event. Surprisingly, one of the most interesting aspects were these two post-race anecdotes.

While waiting to pickup my post-race bag, I stood next to what seemed like a homeless man. He had a long scraggly beard and looked emaciated. Then a young tall well-shaped Australian blond approached and he asked her with an Australian accent,

"How'd you do?"
"3:58:59, I was ecstatic. So what's that for you 168?" she asked.
"Yeah, 168," he replied.

After thinking about it for a few seconds I asked if he meant 168 marathons. "Yeah." I asked how old he was and he said 57. When I expressed my astonishment, he added, "Yeah, there is a group of six of us here that have run over 100. One guy over 200." Doing the math, that's running a marathon every other month for 30 years straight!

Secondly, cousin Bronwyn had several times mentioned her friend Talitha. Talitha was a 1500 meter runner in college and had represented Australia in the Commonwealth games. Now in her old age, 36, she wanted to see if she could to a marathon. I gave Bronwyn tidbits of advice to pass on to Talitha.Bronwyn told me something Talitha was doing, personal hydration bottles. For a $ 5 fee, the day before the race you could give race organizers up to five personal drinking bottles filled with your liquid of choice (i.e. Gatoraid). They would place them on special tables along the course, each table outlined with a color and numbered matrix to locate your bottle. I thought to myself, "The odds of your bottle actually being there come race day, less than 50%. Besides, what serious runner has time to stop and actually find it?" Little did I know.

The Monday after the race, the local paper published all the results in finishing place order. 863 David G. Jones 40-44 Male 3:38:38864 Talitha Crawford 35-39 Female 3:38:40 What are the odds!?

David Jones

Marathon #7-Boston (That's right baby!)

April 21st
Boston, MA

Almost by definition, you have to post a personal best (PB) the first time you qualify for Boston. When arriving in Bean-Town, most don't expect to set another PB as the course is considered very challenging because of the hill profile. However I made some tactical errors, mainly hydration, in the Houston marathon that cost me at least five minutes in my 3:18 finish. With some work, I was confident of posting a PB in Boston.

Training for the hills seemed easy. With all the treadmill work I do, I could simply download the course elevation profile and mirror it on the treadmill's incline. From the charts, most of the big hills were in the later part of the course; there seemed to be only two hills in the first 14 miles, with the rest relatively flat or even downhill. I had heard from experienced Boston runners that the downhills are what get you. I even once read an article about a runner who trains by elevating the backend of his treadmill on blocks to simulate the downhill pounding the quads can take. I didn't put much stock in this. To me, the downhills seemed a good opportunity to build a buffer early in the race.

For hydration, the owner of the local running store, also a marathoner, suggested carrying a water bottle. I was resistant to the idea of lugging around three extra pounds while simultaneously trying to relax my arms' swing motion. He told me that if I trained with a bottle long enough, I would get accustomed to it. For my entire three month training cycle I trained with a handheld (by strap) water bottle. I never did get use to it. But I did come to believe it could significantly improve my hydration early in the race.

Come race day the only remaining variable was the weather, as always. Seven days out, the forecast was for the low 50s. Four days out, high 50s. Race morning the forecast was for 60 degrees, but with very low humidity. Though the race doesn't begin until 10:00, runners have to bus to the athletes' village at 6:30 and wait under the open air event tent until called to queue.

For the next two hours, I was freezing. Though covered head to toe in ski hat, sweat top and pants, and mittens, I was shivering. The weather was perfect! The forecast had called for clear skies; but race morning it was so overcast that the Army Exhibition Skydiving team had to cancel their planned jump. I turned to a Houston running mate and said, "This weather is perfect." I was going for a sub 3:15 PB time.

At 9:30 the officials called us to queue up in our corrals seeded by qualifying times. My race bib of 7881 placed me in the top 1/3rd of the entrants. Twenty minutes before the start the sun began to peak through. Off went my sweat pants and ski hat. Five minutes before the gun, the sun was out like a day at the beach. When standing in the shade, the air was cool and refreshing. In the direct sunlight, it was a bit toasty.

At 10:00, we were off. The first half mile is a significant downhill and a great chance to pickup 15 seconds. However, with 8,000 runners seeded before me, I was boxed in so much that by mile one I was 15 seconds behind my 3:10 planned pace. Yes, a 3:10 pace. Though having a 3:15 target, I wanted to take advantage of the relatively flat course in the first half.

At mile two I was exactly back on 3:10, but already sweating more than planned. Having to toss my shirt at mile three was not part of my original strategy. But with the light wind combining with the direct sunlight above, I stripped down. At the five mile mark I was still on a 3:10 pace, but my legs were feeling a little heavy. The downhill stress was not a myth. I pulled back to a 3:15 stride. At mile eight I was right on pace. I tossed my empty water bottle and knew from this point forward I would have to stop at each water station to get a full cup.

After the hill at mile 12 I understood that the first half of the course is only relatively flat, relative to the significant hills to come later. In absolute terms, these first 12 miles made the entire Houston course look like a pancake.

At the half way mark I was on a 3:17 pace, and in trouble. At mile 14 I wiped my hand across my face. It was covered in grainy abrasive dirt. Wiping my torso I could feel that I was completely covered in some kind of sand. I looked down and saw it was bright white; I was sweating salt.

I knew the four large Newton hills began at mile 16. I didn't know that at mile 15 there is a ten story descent. When I reached the bottom I was toast. Dehydrated and burning in my quads, I had to slow to ten minute miles.

It's a bad feeling when you are hurting and still have five or six miles left to run. But with eleven miles remaining, I just accepted that I was in for a world of hurt. At mile 20 I felt a bit more encouraged as I only had six miles remaining. At mile 20 I felt great dread as I had six miles remaining.

By mile 22 I began to have plenty of company. About every 100 yards there would be a runner bent over cramped by the side of the road. That was my fear. Though in a lot of pain, my cramps were more burns than sharp pulls. However, the pain had spread from my quads to my hips. At mile 24 I felt an acute stress behind my left knee. But having made it that far, I was resigned to hop on one leg if need be.

Fortunately, my knee stress didn't worsen and I crossed the finish line in 3:48:04, exactly 30 minutes off my personal best of 3:18.

When I arrived back at the hotel, my two Houston running mates had already seen my posted time and began to offer their consolations, oddly enough in a heighten way. It was as if I was one of the immediate bereaved at grandma's funeral. Whenever I would make a race comment, they would just silently respond by tightly pressing their lips together and slowly nod their heads. I almost felt guilty that I felt so wonderful on many levels.

First, I am now officially a Boston marathoner. Though a mark of distinction among runners, it transcends running to a life experience. It's an experience you can't read about or be told. You have to do it. However, unlike going to the top of the Eiffel tower, you can't buy it. It is understood to be the fruition of extraordinary dedication and perseverance.

Secondly, I have a fullness grown out of my respect for the course. It is like squaring off against a worthy adversary. Regardless of the results, you have a satisfaction from the fight. I have no regrets giving it 100% and falling short, rather than having finished in a faster, but less challenging time. And worthy the Boston course is. Another first time Boston marathoner put it this way,

When he started preparing for Boston, his third marathon, some race veterans told him the hills weren't as difficult as their reputation made them out to be. "They were wrong," said Armstrong, … "They are harder, and they do come at a difficult time in the race."

Armstrong said there's no comparison between running a marathon and cycling, either physically or mentally. "You can't compare the pounding of running with the efficiency of a bicycle," he said. "Nothing even comes close to comparing the pain, especially it seems like this course, with a significant amount of downhills ... that really take their toll on the muscles."

Lastly, I was actually happy with both my absolute and relative time. In absolute terms, though way off my PB, 3:48 is still faster than two of my previous marathon times. Given the high temperature hit 62 (I have a big time sunburn) and the significant hills, I am happy with my time.
In relative terms, I ran with the best marathoners in the world and finished in the top 50%. Also in relative terms, I am very happy with the second half of my race. I was more than tempted to walk most of the remaining 10 miles to just finish in four and half hours. Completely dehydrated and cramped, I was quite happy with my time and effort for the second half.

Boston was a great race, a great experience, and a great motivation to continue to run.


David J.

Seabrook Half

Though I have completed all my scheduled mileage, I’ve been malcontented with my training this cycle. My focus has been diminished due to the added stress of working two jobs during tax season. To gauge my conditioning, I went to south Houston to run the Seabrook half-marathon this weekend.

The course was two laps of 6.55 miles on a pine wooded trail. I ended up placing 1st in my age group, and overall 7th out of 412 finishers. I have this little race anecdote to pass on.

Due to the balmy conditions (63 degrees / 90% humidity) at gun time, I carried a handheld water bottle during the first lap for extra hydration. Right before completing the loop, my bottle was empty. I didn’t want to carry my empty bottle the whole of the second lap; however I also didn’t want to toss it as they cost $ 18. A dozen volunteers were standing at the second lap start. I tossed my water bottle to a guy in the middle and said, “I’ll be back in 48 minutes.”

The kick was that I wasn’t wearing a watch. Pre-race I decided to run entirely on “feel”. At the half-way point I actually had no idea what my elapsed time was. But I felt that I was on about a 7:15 min/mile pace. Additionally, having completed the first lap, I knew the course and believed I could maintain my current stride. Accordingly, I figured I would complete the second 6.55 miles in 48 minutes, give or take 30 seconds.

As I approached the finish, the group of volunteers stood clapping and smiling with an amazed bewilderment. It was as if they had just seen David Copperfield make the Statue of Liberty disappear. The guy who caught my water bottle approached me looking at his watch and said, “Amazing! 48 minutes 3 seconds!”. “Pacing,” I replied, “It’s all about pacing.”

Ok, Ok. Maybe I’m embellishing a little. It is true that the bottle cost $ 18. It is also true that I tossed it to the volunteer and said, “I’ll be back in 48 minutes.” It is even true that without the aid of a watch, I actually completed the second half split in 48 minutes 3 seconds, which I learned when the official race results were posted. However, the guy who caught my water bottle was in fact, nowhere to be found. I guess he figured I wasn’t there at the time I stated (3 seconds earlier), so now it his.

David

Marathon #6-Houston

January 13th, 2008
Houston Marathon


The fall is a great time to train as the weather turns cooler. There are also several local half-marathon races to gauge conditioning. After training intensely all summer, I had no measure of my progress towards Boston qualifying (BQ). Between Jul and September, it’s hard to find a local race longer than a 10k. Additionally, the heat and humidity significantly skew race results compared to a cold weather event.

In October, I traveled to Houston to run the annual Luke’s Locker Half Marathon. It’s a great baseline race since it is run on a section of the Houston Marathon course. Needing a 3:20 to qualify for Boston, I hoped to run slightly better than half that time (around 1:39). On race day the weather was cold and the course familiar. I surprised myself by posting a 1:33 and finishing in the top 5%. Not only was I prepared to run my BQ time, it appeared I could do better. My friend John ran my time through a half-marathon to full marathon time converter, and the results indicated I could run a 3:15 for a full marathon. With three remaining months to train, I began thinking that a 3:10 might be possible for the Houston Marathon in January.

I consulted some fellow runners and their responses were split between two camps. The first advised against increasing my training which could lead to injury. They recommended just maintaining my base and then on race day, just shooting for my BQ time. The risk was that running faster could cause cramping and then failing to make my BQ. Boston should be challenge enough since less than five percent of all marathoners qualify. The other camp suggested the exact opposite. Their theory was that as long as I could hold a 3:10 pace till mile 20, I would have such a large buffer that I could get Boston despite a possible cramp. I decided to train for 3:10 and then make my final decision come race depending on the weather.

Race morning (7:00 a.m.) the temperature was 48 degrees; ideally I would have preferred the high 30s. However, I wasn’t complaining and was grateful to have a North wind for the first time. I queued up 10 feet behind and to the side of the race sponsored 3:10 pace runner. After the national anthem, we were off. After mile one I was 50 yards behind the pacer, not because of speed, but congestion. Over 17,000 runners started the race and it is easy to get boxed-in. I knew the sagacious path was to relax and wait until mile 8 to catch up. That’s where the half marathon runners break off and head for their finish. This significantly thins the course congestion. Instead, I unwisely fought my way upstream to catch the pacer. My 2nd mile split dropped to a 7:00 minute mile as I weaved in and out of other runners. This probably started a lactic acid buildup.

By mile three I was back with the 3:10 pack running elbow to elbow with 40 other runners. Being in the middle, I found it difficult to run a relaxed stride. However, I didn’t expect that it would also hamper my ability to hit the water stops. I have run with other pace groups, and usually a third to half of the runners will significantly slow at the water tables. This would allow me to slide in front of them to get a cup. However, the 3:10 group is a fairly serious bunch and they run through the water stations at full stride, snatching cups from volunteers. I tried to angle two feet across and was almost run over. As a result, I only hit one water stop in the first eight miles.

By mile nine I found myself running shoulder to shoulder with the pace leader. With nobody in front of us, I was able to find my stride and feel comfortable. I then realized that I could solve my water stop problem by taking a position 10-15 feet in front of the pace group. From mile 9 to 13 this worked great. I felt very comfortable. We went through the half-way split in 1:34:30, a half minute ahead of our goal 3:10 goal. At mile 14 the pace leader accelerated to my side and said, “You’re taking the brunt of this head wind; that’s my job. Why don’t you slide in behind me. Everyone else is packed tightly.” He was right. It didn’t dawn on me that while enjoying the freedom of space, I was spending additional effort against the wind. I eased back a foot behind and to the side of the pacer. This did abate the wind some, but again also made my strides uncomfortable as I literally bumped elbows with another runner.

At mile 16 I began feeling fatigue in my quadriceps. By mile 18 they started to burn. At mile 20, I knew 3:10 was out. Having built a seven minute buffer, I knew I could still qualify for Boston. But with six more miles to go, I knew it would be painful, very painful. From mile 1-20, I had averaged 7:13 min/mile. From 20-26 my average dropped to 8:26 min/mile.

I finished in 3:18:24 and placed 303 out of 5,600 finishers. I go to Boston in April!

Overall, I was thrilled to qualify for Boston. I was also happy with my conditioning. I had strung 20 consecutive miles together with no split greater than 7:18. Aerobically, I felt great. However, I was disappointed with my tactical errors. I should have let the 3:10 pace group go and then slowly caught up at the half way point. Fighting the congestion added muscle fatigue. I should have also hit the water stations early on, even if I had 3 second delays. However, it is those tactical errors that motivate me to continue. I think by next year, with good weather, 3:10 is very possible.

David Jones

Lukes half

I had an out of body experience this weekend.

I went to Houston to run the Luke’s Locker half-marathon. I’ve done it the last three years; it’s a great race. It is also good training since it’s run on the Houston marathon course.

My Boston qualifying time is 3:20, so I was hoping to do a 1:40 (Boston pace for ½). I figured I had a 50/50 chance. The night before John said the weather forecast looked perfect, 50 degrees with 10mi/hr north wind. He asked if I would go full bore and try to run in the 1:38s. I replied that it would take a 100% race effort and that would interrupt my current training cycle because of the post-race recovery time I would need. I said I would be trilled with a 1:39:30.

The weather was perfect. At gun time, my GPS watch wasn’t picking up a signal. I decided to just run on feel and try to catch the time-clock splits every 5K. I went out fast; at the 5k split I was on a 10k (6.2 miles) race pace, not half marathon (13.2 miles). I said what the hell and just let it ride. At the 10k marker my time was a new personal 10k record, but the race wasn’t even half way over.

At mile eight I was on a 1:35 pace, I kept thinking that I should implode any minute. At mile 10, it became surreal; I was on a pace literally unimaginable just the night before. I opened it up the last mile. In the second half of the race, I set another 10k record (ran a negative split-averaged 7.00 min/mile pace last 10k).

I finished in 1:33.43 and placed 134 out of 2,200 finishers. Again, my Boston qualifying time is 3:20. If you double my half-marathon results, you get a 3:07 marathon pace. Of course you can’t do that.

However, there is a runners’ formula that can take your half-marathon race result and predict the time you will most likely run in a marathon. My friend John ran my 1:33.42 result through, and it returned a 3:15 marathon.

So I am obviously in condition to qualify for Boston (and then some). Additionally, I still have 10 more weeks of training in this cycle. Hopefully the weather is good come mid-January.

Marathon #5-Chicago Marathon

October 11th, 2007
Chicago Marathon

I started a new 18 week training cycle on June 1st. I normally do about 75% of my training on a treadmill. This summer I increased it to 95%. It’s just impossible to run in 90 degree heat for more than 5 miles with out dehydrating.

From the outset, I padded my schedule with extra miles, speed, and hill work. In my previous marathon, I finished 12 minutes short of my Boston qualifying time (3:20). I knew by Chicago I wouldn’t be ready for Boston yet, but I believed I could get within striking distance. I set a 3:25 goal.

Just four weeks into my training, I was in top form, running faster than ever. With three training months remaining, I decided Boston might be possible. In July, I switched to a more aggressive training schedule.

By August I was running 70 miles a week. Initially, I thought I would give out physically before completing the cycle. Instead, I began deteriorating mentally. Though running great, my training indicated that even if the planets all lined up (i.e. perfect course, perfect weather, I timed my training to apex perfectly) I would probably have less than a minute to spare in attempting a 3:20. With six weeks of hard training left, I thought about abandoning my 3:20 goal.

I called my Houston running mate, John, to solicit his opinion. He said that my goal was a bit too ambitious, but at this pint, I should try. First, he said that I had made it this far, and that I should finish the cycle. Secondly, he said not to focus on my Boston time until I was standing behind the starting line in Chicago. At this point, my focus should be on finishing my training. It was sagacious advice and helped me complete the cycle.

Two weeks before the race, I believed that I had a better than 50% chance of qualifying for Boston. My pre-race speed workouts were all at record pace (PRs). Ten days out, the weather forecast was perfect (high of 67 degrees). This was in-line with the marathon website that stated the average temperature for race day was 65. However, this quickly changed.

Seven days out, the forecasted morning low was up to 65, and the high to 72. Four days out the forecasted high was in the upper 70s. With just three days remaining another Houston running mate, Jeff, emailed the following forecast:
“Saturday Night-Partly cloudy. Near record breaking warmth likely. Lows in the upper 60s.”
“Sunday -Partly sunny. Near record breaking warmth likely. Highs in the mid 80s.”
Jeff was also concerned, as he was doing Chicago with me. Jeff had previously run a 3:45 marathon, and was hoping to better that by 10 minutes so he could qualify for Boston (over 50 yrs old time requirement).

The night before the marathon, the forecast for gun time was 72, with a high of 87. I now believed my chance for Boston was less than five percent. Nevertheless, I tried to stay positive. “Maybe if it’s cloudy and there’s a strong cross wind.” I told Jeff. He replied, “Go ahead and humor yourself.”

We woke at 6:00 a.m. on race day and immediately turned on the local weather. It was already 75 degrees with 86% humidity. This wasn’t the forecasted high; it was the current temperature at 6:00 a. m! The forecasted high was now 87 with a heat index of 90+. I conceded that Boston was out.

We made our way to the start at 7:00 a.m. expecting high congestion as 45,000 runners had registered to run. Fortunately, I had run well enough in my previous marathon to get “seeded” for Chicago. This meant I was allowed entry into one of the four gated starting corrals at the front. I entered corral “B” with the other runners expected to run a sub 3:30.

I met half-a-dozen other runners that had planned to run a 3:20, prior to race day. Every single one said they, “…now would be lucky to do 3:30.” I decide to forget about time, and just run what was a comfortable pace. That was a mistake as I had spent the last four months planning to run in the low 3:20s at a comfortable pace.

At 8:00 a.m. we were off. Even being seeded, a minute and half pasted before I made it to the start line. I started my watch. I was already apprehensive as we would have a light 5 mile/hr wind at our backs for the first 8 miles. Sure enough, I was sweating quite a bit by mile two.

Again, just running by “feel”, I didn’t even look at my watch until mile 6. I was at a 3:27 marathon pace, and in trouble. My breathing was heavy. Up to this point I went through the water stops while running, drinking what I could. At the mile 7 station, I slowed to a walk to get a full cup of Gatorade in me. Using this technique, I realized that I probably wasn’t going to make 3:30.

At the end of the water station, I stopped my watch in disgust and stepped-off the course. I stood on the side for 30 seconds with my hands on hips and totally discombobulated with indecision: “What do I do? Should I try for the best time I can? Do I just try to finish? Do I just stop?” Just three days earlier, I was 100% sure I would set at least a PR. Now, I just didn’t know what to do. Just then, the New Balance 3:30 pace team went by.

Their pace didn’t seem that fast. I fell in line behind them. We were now running into the wind and I actually felt better. I began to think that I might be able to hold this pace all the way through. At mile 9 we came to another water station. I again slowed to a walk trying to get at least a full cup in me. The pace team drank on the run and began to pull away. The same thing happened at mile 11 and I knew 3:30 was out of reach.

Half way through mile 13, I began to get a chest pain. I knew it was nothing serious, and probably just cramping due to dehydration. However, I believed the probability of an injury was likely. I was now on a 3:48 pace and soaked head to toe. I literally, not figuratively, looked like I had just stepped out of a shower. As I approached a medical tent at mile 14, I saw about half-a-dozen runners at the entrance. As I got closer and looked inside, I saw two others stretched out flat on cots. One was covered head to toe with ice bags. That was enough for me. I stepped off the course and quit

A lot of four letter words were flying around, surprisingly, from other runners and not me. I was frustrated with the futility of my results, but not with my effort. I took the risk of running a PR on a day when the heat index was 90+. I lost. About three hours later I learned from Jeff that I probably wouldn’t have been allowed to finish even had I tried. The marathon was stopped.

Though now 52, Jeff spent his 20s as a British Royal Marine Commando. He spent a winter leaving out of a Norwegian ice cave, and one summer tracking through the jungles of Belize. Resiliency was in his nature. Though already hurting at mile five, Jeff adapted. First he slowed his pace to what he thought he could hold until the finish. Secondly, at each water stop he would walk in order to drink two full cups of Gatorade, and pour another two cups of water over his head. Amazingly, he did this for the next 21 miles to finish in 4:07. It was an admirable display of determination.

However, as Jeff was finishing, he saw race officials walking up the course. So many other runners had adapted Jeff’s four cup hydration strategy, the stations ran out of water. Due to that and other concerns as the medical tents were filling up, the race was halted. All remaining runners were directed off the course and handed a finisher’s medal. On the train back to the airport, I met a man wearing a finisher’s medal who only made it to mile 12.

Ultimately, I was ambivalent about the race. I was initially disappointed that I didn’t finish. However, this was totally abated in retrospection for two reasons. First, my goal is to run faster, and eventually qualify for Boston. Finishing the race in 4+ hours would have done nothing to further that end. It probably would have had the opposite effect. Secondly, when I got home that night, I knew I had made the right decision as I read an article posted on foxnews.com:

“CHICAGO MARATHON SHUT DOWN AFTER 4 HOURS DUE TO HEAT, ONE RUNNER DEAD-In a race run in scorching heat that left one man dead…Another 250 runners were taken to hospitals. …Almost 10,000 of the 45,000 registered runners chose to not race [at all].”

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,299956,00.html

cnn.com reported similarly, “Organizers shut down the course four hours after the start of Sunday's Chicago Marathon because of 88-degree heat and sweltering humidity that left one runner dead…”

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/10/07/chicago.marathon.ap/index.html

I’ll go on record here and state that I will never start another marathon when the temperature is forecasted above 80 degrees combined with a dew point (relative humidity) above 65. Not only is a PR is impossible, running can be dangerous.

Overall, I’m still optimistic. Houston is only 12 weeks away. I should be ready to start serious training in a week. Additionally, this is a great time of year to run as the weather cools. There are two great half marathons in November and December. Having run on the treadmill all summer, it will be nice to run some pre-marathon road races to get a good gauge of my Boston potential before I actually try.

Marathon #4-Flying Pig Marathon

May 6th, 2006
Flying Pig Marathon (I’ll do it when pigs fly; get it!?)
Cincinnati OH

Several postings to the race’s website about last year’s event contained phrases like: “…challenging course…”, “…uphill at the start…”, “…rolling course…". The salient feature on the course’s elevation chart is the 350 ft. climb between miles 5 and 8. I also noted, while driving the course the day before, three bridge crossings in the first four miles and a series of rolling hills in the later sections.

However, the net elevation change over the entire course was zero. As long as the declines weren’t too steep, I hoped to pickup some time on the downhill sides. I employed two strategies in preparation; the first was obvious, more hill training. With all the treadmill work I do, that was done simply by increasing the incline. Secondly, I lost an extra five pounds knowing the reduction could be material over the entire course.

I was apprehensive about setting a personal record (PR) on this challenging course. Additionally, it looked as though I would have to also face my perpetual bête noire, hot weather. Just five days out, the high was forecasted to be 82. The day before the race I heard another runner say that a storm disturbance was suppose to blow-through that evening dropping Sunday’s high to 70. I was dubious. But sure enough, as our running group was eating our pre-race paste dinner, winds began gusting and a 15 minute rain came through. It was by no means a cool/cold front; but it did drive all the humidity out making race day dry and cool at the dawn.

Six-thirty Sunday morning, I stood in the pack behind the start-line and next to my good friend John. He was instrumental in helping me achieve a PR in our previous race. In addition to the comradeship a running mate provides, John is a highly disciplined racer. Using his GPS wrist watch, his mile splits deviate by less than a couple of seconds. Unfortunately, he would be no help to me that day. Though equally fast as I, John did not run his previous marathon goal time due to cramping. He thought it best to complete that goal before trying for a faster time this run.

A quartet sang the National anthem and we were off. As always, I was a half-a-minute behind pace after mile one due to the herding mass. But unexpectedly, the course opened up early in mile two. I suspect the relays teams helped. In additional to the full-marathoners, there were four person teams running. They tend to go out faster which helps thin the course. They were also responsible for the funniest comment heard during the race. Near mile 14, I ran past a relay team member. A spectator noticed the runner’s beleaguered appearance and shouted supportively, “Just two more miles and your halfway there!” For those who miss the humor, I will translate the spectator’s comment into an algebraic formula, the solution of which is the total distance the runner had completed: X + 2 = 6 / 2.

I was already absent my pacer, John, but at both miles three and four the course crossed under long overpasses. My GPS watch lost its signal and mistakenly altered the distance covered by a quarter mile. That made its “average pace” display, on which I heavily rely, useless. My only indications of pace from that point forward were the total time elapsed since the start and how I felt.

At mile five I began the continuous incline that peeked at mile eight. Experienced runners have told me that a good uphill strategy is to think of what you consider a slow pace, and then run even slower. To avoid lactic acid build-up, that makes sense. However, there comes a point that you artificially shorten your stride and that disrupts your rhythm. I slowed down but held a stride that felt natural.

It was at the half way point that I was first able to determine my pace. I simply noted the total elapsed time and doubled it. The result was excellent. I was almost a minute ahead of what I considered an aggressive finishing goal time of 3:35. My initial thought was, “Just try to hold onto this pace and you’ll do it.” With that thought, all motivation left me. The connotation of “…just try to hold on…” negatively affected my psychology. I re-thought, “Still try for a negative split!” This challenge instantaneously excited me though I knew the risk. I had already pushed a pace far exceeding my expectation. Increasing it might cause me to implode after mile 20 and completely obliterate any chance at a PR.

I picked up the pace. At mile 17 the sun was high and bright. My breathing was still flowing, but I had fatigue in my legs and mid-section. I tossed my shirt at mile 19 hoping any light breeze would refresh me. My pace was still strong but my confidence was waning. I began the cardinal sin of counting miles, “Don’t stop here; just make it until mile 20, ….just make it until mile 21…., …just to mile 22….”

At mile 23 I was hurting in every aspect. My body was getting heavy, my breathing was shallower, and my posture was no longer vertical. But there was my pace! Though struggling at the limits of my endurance, I later learned through the course’s tracking mats that my pace had remained constant since I accelerated at the half-way point. “Just make it until start of mile 26. Nobody runs 25 miles to walk during the last one.”, I repeatedly told myself.

The start of the final mile did pull me. For the first quarter mile my pace increased significantly. Rounding a bend, I saw the cruelest of designs, a freeway on-ramp uphill with less than a mile remaining. I stopped at the base and walked. I hiked up for 20 seconds taking deep breaths. Running again I turned left at the top and then took off trying to make up the 10 seconds lost.

To involve the local populace, marathon designers like to snake the last mile like a labyrinth through a half-dozen downtown streets. If you’re a local, this may be fun. For others, the disorientation drains any remaining strength. Additionally, before rounding every turn spectators yell out, “The finish is just around the corner!” The absence of which is like a punch to the gut.

Approaching the fourth inner city turn, I again walked for 15 seconds. Finally, I saw the finish. I raced the finally stretch, pumping my fist the last 100 yards. I bested my previous PR by more than six minutes on the most challenging course I’ve run to date. I finished in 3:32:41 and placed 441 out of 3,980 finishers.


David

Marathon #3-Houston

January 14th, 2007
Houston Marathon

The day before the race, when passing by a group of other runners somewhere about town, I’d hear them debating whether the cold front would come through or not. Saturday night the word was good with one saying that a high of 53 degrees was forecasted for Marathon day. Sunday morning I stepped into the evaluator at 6:00 a.m. and heard one runner say to another that it was suppose to be 48 degrees at noon! I pumped my fist in anticipation of getting to run my first cool weather marathon. Unfortunately, they must have been discussing the forecast for Fantasyland.

At the 7:00 gun time, the wind was out of the South, the temperature already at 55, and the humidity a muggy 94%. The humidity didn’t drop all day. However, on the good side, the sky remained completely obscured by clouds and the temperature didn’t rise much above 60. Additionally, we were spared the forecasted rain.

Given the weather conditions, I decided to let my running mate John do all the pacing work. He and I planned to run about the same time for the first half, but he does negative splits (runs second half of race faster then first half). Many runners espouse a negative split strategy, but at the Houston Marathon it is almost inevitable; you get boxed-in by the other 15,000 runners for the first 5 miles or so. If you are running only a minute behind schedule at mile 3, you’re lucky.

I was already feeling the humidity at mile 4. John recommended tossing my shirt. I was a bit reluctant that early in the race, but by mile 5 thought it best. It did provide some cooling whenever we would catch a breeze. Also at mile 5, we settled into my planned marathon pace of 8:23 / mile.

At the halfway point, 13.1, I felt better than I had in my previous two marathons. However, I was still apprehensive about dehydrating down the road. I consumed water at every station, and that seemed to be enough. At mile 20, I was still on pace and felt moderately well. In fact, John and I hadn’t deviate from our 8:23 / mile average pace by even a second for a 15 mile stretch. Always positive!

At mile 20 we turned into a slight breeze. Additionally, the congestion on the course had thinned considerable. This allowed me to straighten up and relax into longer strides. About a minute later, John said in a loud supportive voice, “You’re looking strong; nice and relaxed.” That was very encouraging since John had bested me by a full five minutes in our previous two marathons. I initially interpreted John’s remark as an indication that we should increase our pace. Without saying a word, I held out my hand and John gave me five. Then I took off.

However, John didn’t. I reassessed his comments to mean he wasn’t feeling his best that day and for me to go. I decided just to stretch out my legs for a quarter mile to see if I could break the constant groove we had been running for two hours. I couple of minutes later, I couldn’t detect any change in my breathing. I actually felt energize, and then really took off.

I began passing about a dozen runners about every quarter mile. Some spectators lining the street called out in encouragement (our names are on our numbered bibs). Previously, I had never run over 20 miles, neither in a race nor just training, without feeling some endurance related pain. But yesterday mile 22 felt like mile 2. To put it in perspective, the fastest mile split that I ran up to the 20 mile point was 8:19. At mile 25 I ran a 7:44.

I crossed the finish line in 3:38:36 and placed 779 out of 4,015 finishers. In fact I ran so well, at mile 25 I caught that mother of two year old triplets I tied last year and beat her by a solid 15 seconds. Unfortunately, the 60 year old marathoner / triathlete I met at dinner the night before bested me by half an hour.


David

Marathon #2-Grandma's

Saturday June 17th, 2006
Grandma's Marathon
Duluth Minnesota

This weekend I traveled to Duluth Minnesota and ran in what was billed as a cool weather summer marathon. What a load of crap! At the 7:30 start, the conditions were 67 degrees with 90% humidity. By race end, the temperature was up to 80 degrees. The following day’s newspaper by-line read “Humidity takes toll, 13 hospitalized, medical tent treats 410.”

The heat and humidity affected everyone. One of my running club comrades, who had previously done a 3:20 marathon, finished Saturday’s race in 4:10. As for me, I historically have failed to go past 15 miles in similar conditions. Therefore, I was amazed that I not only finished the marathon, but improved my previous time by seven minutes and finished in 3:52.

My original goal, expecting cool weather, was to run a 3:45. But given the weather conditions, I literally thought my watch was broken when it showed me running at a 3:42 marathon pace at the half way point. The water stations were a significant help. Instead of being the normal 5-6 tables, these stations had tables concatenated 50 yards long and manned by at least a 100 volunteers. It allowed me to consume 3-4 cups of liquid each two miles, instead of my standard of one.

At mile 15 it began getting tough, but I was able to hold my pace by relaxing my upper body and focusing on breath control. At mile 20, I had to stop taking water altogether. Too much water consumption causes over-hydration. Over-hydrations is when you consume so much liquid, you sweat all the salt out of your body which your muscles need to contract.

At mile 22 I hit the “killer” hill I had heard about. Eighty vertical feet of pain. The hill climb combined with over-hydration finally caused me to hit the wall at mile 23. I struggled to maintain a 10 minute per mile pace the last three miles.

Overall, I was thrilled with my results. Not only a personal best, but I believe that I may be able to think about doing sub 3:30 in Houston come January.

On anecdote was my return trip. After a marathon, your legs are cramped and sore; most runners dread a long trip home. For me, it started with a cramped 3 hour mini-van ride with 8 other runners as we returned from Duluth to St. Paul airport. A three hour economy class flight from St. Paul to Houston followed. After a two hour layover, I boarded the Houston flight home at 7:00. Eight o’clock passed, then Nine, then Ten. Finally after sitting on the plane with my knees jammed high for three and a quarter hours, the weather hold was canceled and we took off.

After an 11:15 arrival home, no luggage. I then stood in line waiting to make my claim. Fifteen minutes passed, a half-hour, and finally a full hour standing in line before I reached the counter. How many people were originally ahead of me? Four! Needless to say, I will have to go to confession this week for all the four letter words that left my month.

A blistering 26.2 mile run in Baton death-march conditions, followed by 10 hours of economy class traveling accommodations, and then one hour of standing. I need to have my head check because I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

Marathon #1-Houston

January 11th, 2006
Houston Marathon

Two years ago I had this Forest Gump desire to start running. After spending a couple of months jogging around the neighborhood, I set the goal to some day run a sub four hour marathon. Well, this weekend not only did I accomplish that goal, I crushed it with a solid 3 hr 58 min 59 sec performance at the Houston Marathon.

That’s right, after: 15 months of running, over 1,400 training miles logged, 26.2 miles over concrete streets and freeway on-ramps, I accomplished a sub four hour marathon with just 61 seconds to spare! Now of course, there is a lot more to the story.

However, in the spirit of Forest Gump I will just say: over 8,000 started the race, 5,430 finished, and I placed 1,583 with a sub four hour time. As Forest would say, “That’s all I have to say about that.”

David