Galveston Marathon Pics

About 1,200 runners at the start.

First Time Down the Seawall and Upwind

All Alone at Mile 10 (about 7 marathoners and 30 halfers stretched out in front over a mile)

Post race, a bit happier after downing 11 bean and cheese breakfast tacos and half a pizza.

3:19, 7th overall and 2nd in age division.

Galveston Quick Results

Galveston marathon. Wet wet wet, windy windy windy. Shoes had extra quarter pound of water each.

3:19, 7th overall 2nd in Division.

Weekly Recap-Galveston Race Week

Sunday

Saturday
Off

Friday
Off

Thursday
Easy 3 during lunch. Walked 2 more.

Wednesday
Solid quick 7, walked one more.

Tuesday
Off

Monday
7 good ones on mill. Having hard time tapering. Just want to open one up. Also hard time with diet. Try again tomorrow with 3 days low carb.

Weekly Recap-2 Weeks Until Galveston

Sunday
Solid 14 on mill in am.

Saturday
ran 5k with girls in am. Did two more on mill post race. Was suppose to do 14 later in day, but went to buffet social, ate like a pig, and washed it down with a pint of rum. Not conducive to running a PR, but was quite happy non the less.

Friday
Off

Thursday
Solid 8 during lunch. Walked 4 more at night

Wednesday
Walked four. Wanted to run at night, too tired and short on time

Tuesday
Ate junk food all day, was tired and feeling beat up. Decided to skip run and go to bed, but then decided to get in final speed workout. Put in solid 13 with 3 X 1600 VOmax intervals.

Monday
Had 8 scheduled, just too knackered. Took day off, will do double tomorrow.

Weekly Recap-3 Weeks Until Galveston

Sunday
Solid 8 with 4 X 800 meter VOmax strides in am. Another 4 at night, walked 3 more.

Saturday
5 miles with Jamie at 5:30am. Did 4 X 600 Fartleks. Then did 5k with Juliet in local race at 8:30.

Friday
Met Jamie for 8 at 5:30am. Humidity was 97%.

Thursday
Met Mike and Jeff for 6 at 5:30am.


Wednesday
A hard 17 on mill with 6 X 400 meter inclines. Walked jogged another 6 throughout day.

Tuesday
Met mike for easy 6 at 5:30am. Quite humid.


Monday
Met Mike and Jamie for easy 6 at 5:30am. Walked another 8.

Weekly Recap-4 Weeks Until Galveston

Sunday
Fast 12 on mill with 3 x 1 mile intervals, VOmax pace.


Saturday
5 miles, walked one more.


Friday
Met Jamie at 5:30pm for solid 8 miler. Did one single mile interval in 6:05.

Did another four at night, then walked 3 more.

Thursday
Walked / jogged 4 before breakfast. really wanted to do 5-7 at night, but family duties took over.

 Wednesday
New shoes out of the box, got in a solid 20. Walked two more.

 Tuesday
 Off-Wanted to get in 18, but between work and family, had no time.

 Monday
 7 on mill with 3 x 1 mile intervals, bout VOmax pace. Walked another 7 throughout day.

Marathon # 19: Happy New Year--Well, Kinda

Kingwood Marathon

01/01/12

New Year's Morning 8:00 a.m.

 

The tradition is to look forward with hope.  More specifically, we commit to resolutions that will result in a better self.  However, upon waking the morning of January 2nd, it's equally customary to forget about all that nonsense pledged in a drunken stupor at 11:52 p.m. on New Year's Eve.  The vast majority of us accept that our only real resolution is to make it through another day.

 

Perhaps our ephemeral commitment is a consequence of only looking forward and not sufficiently looking back.  Before setting any 2012 goals, I decided to contemplate the previous year and assess how I spent the majority of my effort and time.

 

 

 

After several minutes of pensive reflection, all of 2011 was just a blur.   There wasn't a single trace revealing how I spent the majority of the year.

 

Therefore, I concluded that I had 36 hours at most to attempt a resolution, or wait another year before deluding myself into believing, "This time I mean it." My resolution?—to run a sub 3:10 marathon.   On nine previous attempts over a three-year span, I've come up short.

 

Fortunately, the New Year's Day Kingwood Marathon provided an opportunity.   The genesis of this marathon itself was a result of another resolution: to set a world record.  Rick Worley was in the process of setting the Guinness Record for the most marathons on consecutive weekends (200 marathons on 159 consecutive weekends for three years).  The streak was in jeopardy when there wasn't a marathon anywhere in the U.S. for the first weekend of January in 1999.  Texas running legend Steve Boone (500+ marathons) answered the call and hastily organized this New Year's Day race.

 

To keep the cost reasonable, they designed the course as four laps on the concrete greenbelt trails through the Kingwood suburb's pine forest park. The inaugural event had 20 marathoners.   However, not wanting to jeopardize the world record, the race sponsor had the course USATF certified, and it's a Boston qualifier.  The race's popularity has grown every year, and the organizers now limit entry to 650 runners; the event usually sells out eight months in advance.

 

A disadvantage of a looped course is the runner congestion that occurs when the faster runners begin to lap the field in the third and fourth laps.  It's worse when walking half-marathoners are participating; my running mate Guillaume described them succinctly: "They're a plague."  However, the congestion's inconvenience is more than offset by the mental advantage a multi-looped course provides.   As Y. Berra said, "[It's] 90 percent mental; the other half is physical."

 

With a single-loop course, I mentally split the race into miles—twenty-six individual points to not only check (worry about) pace, but also the distance remaining:  Five seconds behind pace at mile four.  Too fast that mile . . . easy back about eight seconds this mile.  Three more miles to make up 15 seconds.  

 

I find a four-loop course perfect:  Go out steady the first lap.  Hold the pace this lap.  Pick it up this loop.  This is it—one last lap.

 

As far as the variables in my control—conditioning and weight—I was in good but not optimal form.  During the Thanksgiving and Christmas holiday period, I reclaimed about four pounds of body weight—okay, okay—fat.  But I was still the same weight as when I posted my 2010 personal record.

 

Additionally, I certainly wasn't undertrained, just the opposite.  By accident, I logged a 77—mile week just a fortnight earlier.   My schedule only called for 55 easy miles; however, in my attempt to offset several hedonistic Christmas cookie / pumpkin pie-eating binges, I added extra miles by doing daily doubles.  Without realizing it, I logged the most weekly miles of this cycle when I was actually scheduled to taper.

 

The only remaining factor was the weather, and it was perfect; it was perfect every single day of the week and the afternoon of the race, just not the morning I would be actually running.  Here are the forecast morning temperatures five days pre-race:

 

Wednesday: 42 degrees

Thursday: 42 degrees

Friday: 48 degrees

Saturday: 58 degrees

Sunday (race day): 62 degrees

Monday: 38 degrees

 

The forecast low for Sunday morning was 62 degrees with a south wind. Since the race had a late start time, 8:00 a.m., that was going to be awful weather to attempt a PR.  However, the forecast high race day was only 68 degrees because a cold front would blow through about noon.

 

Oh, that was cruel, so cruel that it seemed not merely due to the caprice of nature, but the scorn from a higher power.  The day before the race, I sent a text lamenting my poor weather luck to my longtime friend and running buddy John.   He replied with a single strange acronym: "STHUAJR!"  After five minutes, I deciphered his reply: "Shut The Hell Up And Just Run!"

 

In spite of John's "tough love," my weeklong supplication was answered race morning...well, partially.  As I stood at the park pavilion, it was a warm 57 degrees with a cloudless sky, but the wind was already out of the north.  Dehydration was still a threat once the sun rose above the tall East Texas pine trees, but at least I would be able to breathe comfortably in the lower humidity and surely pass the halfway mark on pace.

 

As we entered the starting chute, there was only one thing that might prevent me from running a sub 3:10 this day; I wasn't going to try.   My ultimate goal is not to run a sub 3:10, but a sub 3:00 marathon, 3:10 is just a stepping stone.  As any serious marathoner will confirm, 3:10 is a long, long way from 3:00.  I wasn't ready for a sub 3:00, but I believed 3:05 was a possibility.  The marathon spirit is not to attempt what you think you can do, but to attempt what you believe is just beyond your potential.

 

The starter called us up to the line.  The event had no corporate-sponsored pacers, so I tried to form my own.  Standing at the front, right on the line, I turned and called out, "3:05?  Anyone shooting for 3:05, or even 3:00?"  There wasn't a single reply.  "How about 3:10?  Anyone going for 3:10?"  A single runner tilted his head from side to side and replied, "Uhh…well, maybe."

 

The starter interrupted, "Okay. I'm going to say, 'On your mark,' then sound the horn."  "Okay—on your mark," and we were off.

 

I went out with a brisk stride that felt light.  For the first 100 yards I was running in the lead—in first place.  However, I was sure somewhere in the pack there were at least a couple of sub 3:00 marathoners who would soon overtake me.  Last year, there were seven sub 3:00 finishers.  I reached the first mile still in the lead with the next-closest runner about 30 yards back.  No way!  Can I really have a shot to win this? 

 

At mile two I was still in first place, but now with a 50-yard lead.  My pace felt comfortable and my breathing easy.  I think I can win this!  I think I can do it!  However, I now had a strategic dilemma: Do I continue to push for the fastest finish time I can, or do I adjust to the field with a goal to win regardless of time?  It took about a second to decide.  My goal is not to win this race, but to get as close to sub 3:00 as I can.  I held my pace.

 

I continued around the bends through the pine forest, looking for the chalk-scribbled arrows on the sidewalk for directions.  At mile three I reached a fork in the path, but when I looked down, the path was completely covered in fallen tree leaves.  I didn't see any arrows.

 

The wise unpretentious decision was to slow down and search for the pink arrows also posted on the trees.  However, in my ego-inflated euphoria, I kept running, choosing to go left.  Unfortunately, it wasn't right!  A minute and a half later I found myself completely alone: no runners, no course markings, no volunteers.  When I reached a busy intersection, I came to a complete stop.  I looked left—nothing, then right—nothing.  "Crap!!!!"

 

I doubled back on the path full speed and returned to the fork about a minute later, choosing right this time.  I was now in about twentieth place.  My pride took over, and I went full stride into a 10k pace passing runners left and right.  I knew this was stupid; however, the course design was partially culpable.  Had the course stretched out with long straight sections where I could see the trail of lead runners ahead, I would have slowly reeled them in.  

 

However, with the bends and turns through the pine forest, I could only see runners 30 to 50 yards ahead.   I ran as strong as I could trying to regain the lead, not knowing where I was in the pack.  At mile five a volunteer called out to me, "Fourth!"  I then saw the third-place runner about 40 yards ahead.  I passed by and said, "You're looking good."  He replied, "Hey, I was looking for you ahead of me!"

 

While approaching a S-shaped bend at mile five, I saw the two lead runners about 80 yards ahead.  About a minute away from completing the first lap, I caught the leader.  She was a good six feet tall with a single barbed wire tattoo around her upper left arm.  When I said, "Good morning," she reciprocated the same, but with a thick British accent.  She had a beautiful stride—strong and powerful.  I was sure she was, or had been, a collegiate-level runner.

 

We crossed the timing mats together—she on a 3:09 pace and I on a 2:58 pace due to the extra distance!  Since she had increased her stride as I caught her, I knew she also pictured herself winning.  I decided to push hard for another mile to see if I could shake her.

 

By mile 10 I had regained my 50-yard lead, but my legs had tightened considerably because of the frantic pace.  I eased back.  With half a mile remaining in the second lap, she caught me.  Her stride looked lessened a bit, but I knew she had more than I.  "Go get 'em! You've got it!" I encouraged.

 

As I started the third lap, my quads were tight and I knew this was going to hurt.  However, I had a strong and intense training cycle and knew that I had the endurance, if I could handle the pain.  Halfway through the third lap, another runner approached from behind.  "Yeah, looking good.  How do ya' feel?" I asked as he pulled alongside.  We chit-chatted for 15 seconds. "She's about a hundred yards ahead—you can catch her."  He thanked me and broke away.  

 

Now don't get me wrong—it's not that I wanted a man to win.  Actually, I would've loved a female to be the overall winner.  However, she was a woman, but he was an American.  

 

Completing the third lap, I was hurting.  In addition to the lactic acid I had built up trying to regain the lead, the course was 100 percent sidewalk-grade concrete.  It really beats the hell out of you.  A mile into the final lap, I was passed again.  And again I offered encouragement and exchanged pleasantries.  With a thick Nordic accent, he asked me where I was from.  I replied "Corpus," and he replied, "Sweden."  By his stride, I knew he would hold that pace to the finish and I wouldn't finish in the top three.

 

For the remainder of the final lap, I held a decent pace in spite of increasing leg cramps.  Approaching the finish, I was covered in salt, a bit dehydrated, and ready to call it a day.

 

I crossed the finish in 3:17:03, placing 4th overall out of 221 marathon finishers.  Ironically, the winner (the American), finished in 3:10:59.

 

Well in marathoning, as in life, sometimes you take a wrong turn.  You can whine, complain, and sputter forth a litany of "if only" excuses.  Or you can get back on track and "STHUAJR."  The former is for children and fools, the latter for those sagacious enough to know it's better to attempt their best and come up short than to give up.

 

Overall, it was a fantastic event and great race, and I loved every minute of it.  And besides—There's always next year!

 

Weekly Recap-5 Weeks Until Galveston

Sunday. Met Mike for way 6 at 6:00am. Jogged another 3, walked two on mill in late afternoon. Saturday Needed a medium long run today. Did a half race here. Wore heavy trainers, weather shit 92% humidity, and didn't push at all. 1:38 flat, 7:28 pace. Friday Good 6 on mill. Thursday.. Met Mike for 6 at 6:00am, then came to work and ate a ton of junk food crap. Wednesday. Walked / jogged 4 during lunch. walked 5 more at night. Tuesday. Walked 4 Monday Off

Kingwood Marathon Pic

3:17. 4th overall.

Weekly Recap-Race Week Kingwood

Sunday.
Kingwood Marathon

Saturday
Pre- race off

Friday
Pre- race off

Thursday..
Pre- race off.

Wednesday.
Quick 5 on mill.

Tuesday.
Off-feeling really stiff

Had to loosen belt a loop. Have put on 4 lbs or so with all the junk I've eaten.

Monday
Met Mike for easy 6 at 5:30am

Weekly Recap-2 Weeks Until Kingwood

Sunday.
Christmas morning 5:30 am.

Met Mike for an easy 6 this morning. Walked another 3 on mill.

During lunch, fast 6 on mill with 6 X 200 meter strides.

Saturday
14 on mill in am. Walked one more.

Wanted more due to lots of Christmas eve dinner calories.

Friday
Off-Mucho busy at work. Too bad lots of junk food.

Thursday..
Met Mike for easy 4 in am. Walked / jogged 4 more on mill later.

Walked / jogged 4 more on mill at lunch.

Wednesday.
Met Jeff , Jamie, Mike for 8 at 5:30 am. Did some light intervals in last two miles.

Ran fast 5 on mill after work. Wanted to do more at night, but ran out of time.

Tuesday.
Walked / jogged six.

Monday
Met Jeff, Jamie, and Mike for easy 6 at 5:30 am.

Got on mill and jogged / walked another 3.

Walked 4 during lunch.

San Antonio Roadrunner's 5 / 10 miler (made it 15)

The cycle I've done all my long run in races. If I can find a 18-20 mile race, great. But usually I find a half marathon and extended it. It's really the best way to do a LR. All week you just dread the lonely 2 1/2 - 3 hour 18-20 mile long run. But with a race, even if not running full speed, the first 10-13 fly by. Then it's just an hour or 75 minutes till you're done. Also, the quality of run is usually better.

This was my last exertion run of the cycle, before a full taper. I had already done 17 on the mill Monday, and a total of 51 miles by Friday evening. I arrived in SA late, about 9:00 pm. And immediately ran 4 on the hotel treadmill as I ate a dozen cookies at the girl's school Christmas party. I had already done 6 in the pre-dawn morning, and 5 after work.

When I arrived at Schnabel Park for the 7:30 am start, the weather was perfect, chilly. I wore my heavy trainer shoes, and wasn't even concerned about time. In fact, I didn't even pickup a timing chip. The course was a 5 or 10 miler, which I assumed would be 5 mile laps. But it turned out to be out and back, with the five milers turning early.

There were only about 150 so runners, which is about a 1/3rd of what I expected. The gun fired and we were off. I didn't even turn on my watch and just cruised.

The course was great. A path through the park, which was somewhat wooded (not to thick). I thought it would be a great place to train.

The path was completely paved and ranged from 3-10 feet in width. The course also had rolling hills. All pretty small, but enough that you could feel it in your legs. The only downside was much of the path was hard hard hard concrete. My weight is quite light, but I still felt the pounding on the body.

For the 10, I ran mostly at an easy pace, but picked it up a little in some sections just to break it up. When I finished, the race timing clock read 1:14, which is about 7:30 / mile. I immediately turned around and started back to the 5 mile turnaround point. However, I slowed because this section was the most hilly, and had the most concrete, and I was already feeling the strain.

As I finished my extra 5, the awards were underway. I just went immediately to my car as we have Christmas prep at home. By 12:30 I was back doing family and house chores.

Weekly Recap-3 Weeks Until Kingwood

Sunday.
7 on mill at night.

Saturday
15 in the San Antonio RoadRunner 10 miler (I kept going).

Wanted to get in 5 when I returned home, but no time.

Friday
Met Jamie at 6:00 am for easy 6.

5 on mill after work

4 on mill before bed, needed to burn off about 15 Christmas cookies

Thursday..
Met mike for easy 6 at a conversational pace at 5:30am.

4 on mill during lunch. Walked 1 more.

Wanted to get some more in at night but ran out of time.

Wednesday.
Went to meet running mate at 5:30; he couldn't make it. Ran a lonely 10.

Walked / jogged another 8 throughout day.

Tuesday.
Off-wanted to get in 5-7, but not enough time.

Monday
Solid 17 during lunch, another fast 4 when I got home. Wanted to do 4 more at night, but ran out of time.

American Bank Half Marathon 2011

I've written before that this is a great event for many reasons, the two best being it brings out the top local runners, and the course is flat and has the potential to be fast.  Well, it can be fast if the weather cooperates.

Five days out the forecast was for light north winds and perfect temperatures (mid 40s).  But the night before, the cold front had yet to arrive and it was still warm (mid 60s at midnight).  About 4:00 a.m., I heard the cool-front blowing through.  The wind was strong and the gusts howled around the house.  I knew the wind would be a problem, but at least it would cool down a little.

As we queued for the 7:00 a.m. gun, it was still a little warm (high 50s), but directly in the windchill it was a little cold.  The sky was quite overcast.  I wore a tank top, light arm warmers, and a light beanie.  The wind was really blowing with flags flapping and trees swaying.  My original goal was to run a PR in 1:28 or better, but now with the weather not optimal, I just didn't know.  Well as Susan would say, it was time to shut-up and run.

The gun fired and we were off.  Over the first mile I felt the strong wind push at my back; my pace seemed fast.  However, all I could really think was, "This is going to be a nightmare to run back against!"

At the beginning of mile three the course bent to the southeast and the wind was just about perpendicular as it blew from the northeast.  The push was so strong I felt myself leaning about 5 degrees to the left just to fight the resistance.  A few times a strong gust literally moved me right a few inches.  Though mainly perpendicular, the wind at times also seemed to push a little from behind or a little from the front as the course slightly turned east or west.  Again, all I could really think was, "How am I going to run back against this?"

At mile four I was getting hot and pulled my arm warmers to my wrist, and tucked my beanie in my shorts.  About a half mile from the midpoint turnaround I had yet to look at my watch.  I had paced myself  just on stride / leg turnover but felt I would probably hit the midpoint in 43-44 minutes.  When I finally turned to head back, my watch read 45:15.

I was really disappointed.  I was also dreading the return and assumed I would lose a good five minutes on the up-wind leg.  However, as I started back the wind didn't seem as bad as I feared.  Again it was mostly perpendicular and actually felt like it was a bit behind me.  I guess the wind was more from the east than northeast in the first leg and that's why I was a minute or two behind pace.

For the next two miles I held my pace as we were running northwest;  I believed that I might finish in 1:30 or so.  However, about mile 10 the course began to bend back directly north and the wind resistance increased.  With about a mile and half to go, we turned due north and I slowed significantly fighting to run directly into the wind.

With half a mile remaining, I assumed I could still be on a 1:30-1:31 pace and gave it everything I had.  With 30 yards remaining, I saw the finish clock at 1:31:50.  I pushed hard to go sub 1:32, but came up just short.

I crossed the finish in 1:32:01 placing 1st in my division and 12th overall out of 149 half marathon finishers, and 18th out of 198 counting the 49 relay teams.

Well, I'm ambivalent about the results.  I was quite sure pre-race I would at least go sub 1:30.  I was quite disappointed with my 1:32.  But after giving it some thought, the weather probably cost me a good 10 seconds a mile.  Also, I hadn't tapered at all; the previous week I log a 20 miler, a 10 mile hill workout, and lots and lots and lots of general miles.

So I'm forgetting about this one and staying with the delusion I'm still able to go sub 3:00 in Kingwood in three weeks.  I'll need to lose 3-4 pounds and get in a good taper, but it's still possible if not probable.

1st in my division, Giancarlo 3rd

"One, Two, Three, CLEAR"

After the American Bank Half Marathon a running friend handed me his camera and requested a picture.  I said that I couldn't; I had no feeling in my fingers.  I stretched out my hand to show him.

The tips of my fingers were blueish-purple dark.  I explained that with all the training I've done that my resting heart-rate was down to the low 40s, and my blood pressure was on the low side also.  Post hard / long runs, it gets worse as my circulation is further reduced by dehydration.

The friend said, "You better put that information on the back of your bib as race instructions recommended."  I replied that it was no big deal and I didn't worry about it.

The friend explained, "My brother is the one who actually told me to do it; he's a Doctor and marathoner.  My brother told me that when a runner goes down, for any reason, the paramedics are usually called.  The medics, not knowing that runners have naturally low heart-rates / blood-pressure, freak-out.  On more than one occasion, they've whipped-out the defibrillator and shocked the runner."  

I guess I better fill out the reverse-side of the bib with some notes on my other extraordinary physical attribute, or the medics might think I'm suffering from a head-injury induced priapism and rush me in for a $ 5,000 MRI brain scan.

Oprah, Marathoning, and Kool-aid

I hit the road at 5:30am with a running buddy. We were casually jogging and just talking. He mentioned another running mate whose wife doesn't really support his marathoning. This guy told his wife, "I'm out doing my training when you're asleep in bed. By the time you wake-up, I'm back home, dressed, and ready to get the kids out the door and head off to work. Now explain again to me why you have a problem with my running?"

Then my running buddy said the funniest thing, "Hey, most wives not only don't get it, they think there's something wrong with what we're doing. Hell, the only way they would support our marathoning is if Oprah told them they should. Oprah, I just don't get it! Her minion will buy, support, or do anything she says. She's like Jim Jones. All she would have to do is look out at her audience and say, 'It's time to drink the Kool-aid,' and they would gulp it down."

Pringles and Sex

A buddy of mine has been on a strict diet preparing for a marathon.  The last ten days he cut out all carbs.   Today he began "carbing up" which frees him up to eat just about everything he wants.

Today he sent me a text, "Just ate an entire can of Pringles.  It was five times better, and ten times more satisfying, then the best sex I've ever had."

Weekly Recap 4 Weeks Until Kingwood

Sunday.
Off, with family activities and work, just took much to do.

Saturday
American Bank Half Marathon. Jogged another 6 throughout afternoon.

Friday
Off.

Thursday..
Up at 5:00am for easy 6 with mike. Walked / jogged another 8 throughout day.

Wednesday.
Jogged 5, walked another 5.

Tuesday.
Met Mike and Jamie at 5:30am for 8 along Oso Parkway. Weather cold, and group chatting good. Nice run.

When I got home I knocked out another fast 5 on the mill, then walked one more.

Walked another 8 at night.

Monday
Ate a ton of junk food, then took running day off. Gotta make up the calories now. Lots of miles to do.

Weekly Recap 5 Weeks Until Kingwood

Sunday.
walked 10 throughout day.

Saturday.
Up at 5:00 am, walk jog 9 on hotel treadmill.

5k with girls in San Antonio. Another 4 on hotel mill when we got back.

Jogged fast 5 on mill when we got home. Walked another 1.5. Wanted do more but ran out of time.

Friday
New shoes out of the box, Gladiator on the wide screen, made 20 on the mill easy this afternoon.

Thursday.
Up at 4:00, drove with Mike to do easy 10 of hill work in Annaville. New course, good conversation, lots of fun.

Almost ran over a dozen times by speeding refinery trash headed home from graveyard shift, but still fun.

Wanted to get in 4-6 at night but ran out of time.

Wednesday..
Walk / jog 8.

Tuesday.
Off-went to Giancarlo's Christmas party in Alice. Ate a disgusting quantity of tamales , cookies, pizza, cake, cheeses , and other stuff. Probably gained a pound.

Monday
Walked / jogged 6. Wish I had time for more

weekly Recap-6 Weeks Until Kingwood

Sunday.
Fast 5 with 5 X 400 meter moderate inclines. Walked / jogged another 11 miles throughout day.

Saturday.
Met local group on alameda at 6:30 for a dozen. Ran 10-11 min/mile pace with group for 6, then broke off and ran natural pace in heat and humidity (not too bad), for the remaining 6.

Did another 4 on mill, then walked two more in afternoon.


Friday
Up early, walked 4 outside. Stomach still full from turkey. Walked another 5 in afternoon.

Thursday.
Ran a 4 mile Turkey Trot race in morning. Ran another 4 on mile in after noon, fast pace. Walked two more.

Planned to walked 4 at night, but too much turkey.

Wednesday.
Solid 11 during lunch, with a bump in speed. Thought about going 18+ as I felt good, but I'm also feeling a bit overtrained with the S.A. Marathon just 10 days earlier.

Well that was unexpected. Got on mill at 9:30pm, after a mile was ready to walk, but needed to offset all the junk I ate so decided to go to 3; at 3 ready to walk but thought I should go to 5. Started to bump speed, and bump, and bump. By 6 close to LT pace. At nine thought it best to shut it down, walked one more.

Tuesday.
Ate a TON of sweets a work pre-thanksgiving fest. Wanted to get in some good mileage , but felt all beat up, and stomach bloating. Took night off.

Monday
7 during lunch at fast pace. Walked another 9 throughout day.

Weekly Recap-7 Weeks Until Kingwood

Sunday.
Met guys down at auga java at 6:30 am for 10 down ocean drive. Weather awful. humid and warm.

Saturday.
Ran 5k in am, bad weather. Ran course twice to get in 10k. Did another 3 walk / jog at night.

Friday
5 during lunch. Walked 1 more.

Thursday.
7 during lunch. Slow but bump in incline. 3 at night, walked 1 more

Wednesday.
Jogged 4 on road, walked 4 more.

Tuesday.
Walked 6.

Monday
Walked 8.

Marathon #18-San Antonio

Marathon #18-San Antonio

November 13^th, 2011

 

Frustrating, Frustrating, Frustrating!  I was in top form, having set a half-marathon personal record (PR) just two weeks earlier.  This race morning, as I lined up with thirty thousand competitors, three of the four race variables were perfect.

 

I was the lightest that I've ever been.  In the previous weeks, four friends told me, "You look like crap," three workmates said, "You look like you've been sick," and two strangers actually and non-sardonically asked, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Steve Jobs?"  You know you are ready to post a PR when non-runners say that you look like you are on your deathbed.

 

The course was flat and fast; last year I set a PR in this race.  Also, the start has seeded corrals which prevent you from getting boxed in by the less earnest participates standing at the front, often dressed in tutus, tuxedos, or one time, all five Fruit of the Loom Guys; I was actually beaten in my second marathon by the Banana.

 

Third, I had a complete and strong training cycle.  All three of my 20-mile-long runs were at a comfortable and strong pace.  Over the last two years I had strayed from some LT runs and forsaken all my VOmax speed intervals.  This cycle I was faithful to all my speed work.

 

But the fourth variable, the weather, was awful.  For me, the weather supersedes all other race day factors.  Last year when I ran my PR at this race, my weight was only fair and I did a very light training cycle.   Both those weaknesses were offset by good weather, with a gun time temperature of 55, a north wind, and cloudy skies.

 

Today everything else was perfect except the weather.  At 7:30 am it was already 68 degrees, with wind out of the south and high humidity.  The forecast high was to be 86 degrees.  Three days earlier, race officials sent an auto e-mail: "A Message from the Medical Team--Warm Weather Running Tips for Sunday:  #1-Don't Push Yourself."

 

I had run in these conditions once before, the infamous 2007 Chicago Marathon; that day two thousand participants entered the race medical tents, four hundred required hospital trips, and one died.  After dropping out at mile 14, I e-mailed a running buddy the following oath: "I'll go on record here and state that I will never start another marathon when the temperature is forecast above 80 degrees.  Not only is a PR impossible, running can be dangerous."

 

Over the years I abrogated that pledge.  After months of training and sacrifice, it's impossible to walk out of your hotel a minute from a start line and then not run.  Rather, I modified my pledge to never race for a PR in dangerous weather conditions.  There is no chance, so why risk serious consequences.  No, this day the clearly sagacious strategy was to treat this race as a long training run at a relaxed pace and try to set a PR in my next marathon scheduled for New Year's morning.

 

However, the paradox is that if marathon runners were the type to choose wisely over choosing purposefully, they would never choose to start running marathons.  Teddy Roosevelt's 1905 Paris speech expresses the pursuit of purpose: "[I]f he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

 

The gun fired and I went out to set a PR.

 

My stride felt light and the pace steady;  however, carrying a hand-held water bottle was awkward.  I filled it to the brim with ice water knowing I would need the extra hydration this day, but the extra two pounds affected my natural arm swing and running rhythm.

 

I passed the two mile-mark in 14 minutes flat, 30 seconds ahead of a PR pace.  Way, way too fast, I eased back.  At mile four I was still 30 seconds ahead; my pace was now steady.  The next few miles became more difficult.  The first seven miles snake through downtown, and the buildings completely block the wind.  I was sweat covered by mile six and now only 15 seconds ahead of a PR pace.

 

The course eventually made its way out toward the Missions at mile seven.  The sky was very overcast, the course was open enough to catch some wind, and my breathing improved.  Approaching the mile nine marker, I could see a race clock overhead and to the right.  I looked down and to the left.  At this point, time was irrelevant.  I was running the strongest pace I could hold given the bad weather conditions; seeing my time was not going to change my effort, as it was all the effort I had. 

 

Again at the mile 11 marker's clock, I looked down and to the left.  I could feel that I had slowed a nick or two.  I was intent to run through the halfway mark without noting a time, but I saw the clock when trying to get vertical to improve my form, 1:37:20, a full two minutes behind my PR pace.  A PR was now out; from this point forward it would be just for pride.

 

The overcast sky began to clear at mile 14.  By 16 there wasn't a cloud above.  I knew dehydration was coming soon; this was going to hurt.  At mile 18, we looped a little park area around Mission Juan Capistrano.  This section contains a few small hills.  Halfway up an incline at 19.5, my heart rate skyrocketed.  I was dehydrated and my breathing became labored.  I had to walk for 30 seconds to get my pulse and breathing under control.

 

When I reached mile 20, I knew I was done.  I slowed and walked through the water tables, resigned to just somehow finish.  That's when a man dressed in military fatigues said to me, "One hundred—one hundred."  He then called out loudly, "Here's our one hundredth marathoner!" to cheers from all the volunteers manning the water station.  I replied loudly, "Crap! I guess I gotta try now."

 

For the next three miles, three other runners and I did a do-si-do.  I'd run for a quarter or half mile at a solid and strong pace and then have to stop and walk for 50 yards to get my heart rate down.  That's when one or two runners would go by and I would encourage, "You're looking good boys--go get 'em!"

 

Then they would stop about 50 yards in front of me and start to walk.  As I went by they would reciprocate, "Yeah, you got it."  This synergistic push continued until mile 23 when I checked my watch for the first time.  I was on a 3:27 pace, about a minute behind my Boston qualifying (BQ) time.  It didn't matter; there was no way I was going to make up a full minute in the last three miles.  My dehydration was causing tight shoulder, chest, and abdominal cramps.

 

Running around a bend at mile 24, I converged on two thousand walking half-marathoners on the left side of the divided course.  My best motivation comes from motivating other runners.  I called out, "Yeah, way to go half-marathoners.  Just two more miles--let's go, let's go--come on!"  No response, only a few belligerent snarls of disdain.

 

Now completing a half-marathon is laudatory, regardless of time.  However, to be casually walking joined four wide, with little or no sign of perspiration, as you discuss the latest Dancing with the Stars episode just grossly violates the spirit of the event.

 

I held my stride as I ran by and about a quarter mile later tried a different tack.  I took off my cap and yelled out, "Come on halfers! Don't let a half-bald 45-year-old accountant lap you.  Finish strong!" Again nothing--just a couple eye rolls of derision. Well, I tried.

 

At mile 25, I checked my watch.  I possibly could, just maybe and with total effort, run my Boston qualifying time.  However, I also knew it was going to hurt.  The longest incline of the course is at mile 25.5, about 100 yards of a moderate slope. 

 

I went into a full stride, most concerned about my heart rate. When I reached the incline's base, I was briefly tempted to give it up, but I had given it my all to this point.  I strode up with what I had left.  I reached the top and turned for the 100-yard final stretch to the finish line.  A last look at my watch showed I had 25 seconds left to BQ.

 

I took two deep breaths and ran as close to a sprint as I could muster.  With fifty yards remaining, I could see the clock, but couldn't make out the numbers.  Finally within 10 yards, I saw only three seconds remained to BQ.

 

I crossed the finish in 3:25:58, placing 81st out of 4,040 full-marathon finishers and squeaking out a Boston qualifier with one second to spare.

 

I stumbled three steps to the left and horizontally leaned myself over a guard barrier for support.  Two volunteers could see I was in immediate need of hydration, and each handed me a water bottle.  But my stomach was so nauseous and my breathing so irregular I just couldn't drink.

 

After several minutes I was able to stand again and began searching for a medical tent, just to be safe.  After walking about 50 yards, I became very light headed.  I knelt to one knee and just stared at the ground for five minutes.  Eventually I sipped a full water bottle and started to regain my bearings.  After 15 minutes more, I felt recovered and started the one mile walk returning to my hotel.

 

Overall, I was thrilled with my effort and pleasantly surprised with my placing in the top one hundred.  However, I will go on record here and say I was very stupid.  I seriously risked heatstroke for an unnecessary and inconsequential self-imposed challenge.  It was foolish.

 

However, if marathon runners were the type to choose wisely over choosing purposefully, we would never have chosen to start running marathons.

 

Post race Pics-San Antonio

Weekly Recap-Race Week-San Antonio

Sunday.
San Antonio marathon.

Saturday.
Off

Friday
Walk / jog 6.

Thursday..
Walked 4.

Wednesday.
Walked / Jogged 4.

Tuesday.
7 during lunch with step-up in pace. Walked 5 more at night.

Monday
Walked 4.

Weekly Recap-2 Weeks Until San Antonio

Sunday.
Jogged four, walked five.

Saturday.
13 in am.

Friday
Walked / jogged 5 in am. Walked / jogged another 10 at night

Thursday.
Walked / jogged 9 throughout day

Wednesday.
8 with 3 X 1,600 meter VOmax. Reduced pace. Walked 4 at night.

Tuesday.
8 miles in am, walked another 4.

Monday
Walked 3.

New Braunfels Half Marathon

(If you prefer just the "quick results", scroll down to the bottom 3 sentences.)

I had my last long run of this cycle scheduled, a 17 miler. Again, I searched for a half marathon that I could extend. The New Braunfels' event was great because it's only 30 minutes from San Antonio, so I could convince my wife it was a "family trip."

Still trying to keep my weight down, I did 7 miles Friday morning before leaving.  Then Friday night, I was able get the whole family to do the San Antonio "Dia De Los Muertos" 8k night run.  Five miles, mostly in the dark, around the roads, trails, and parks surrounding the S.A. Zoo with 900 runners dressed as skeletons, witches, axe-murders, and a variety of other costumes, including a great looking Jellyfish (see pic).

Both my girls set distance records, the full five miles (no walking). After a late dinner, we turned off the hotel room lights at 11:30. I woke at 4:45 a.m. and was on the road 20 minutes later.

This was a long run, and the course wasn't exactly made for speed. The race website read, "There are rolling hills the first 3 miles, which means you hit those on the last 3 miles, too.  New Braunfels is in the Texas hill country, so there are some hills!  Train accordingly." I planned to run a 1:33-1:35.

However, when I arrived and stepped out of the car, the weather was perfect, dry and a crisp 40 degrees. I strapped on my race shoes, beannie, arm warmers, and gloves, and decided to make an honest effort.  

At the 7:00 gun, it was still quite dark.  For the first four miles, I could feel the elevation changes in my legs and stride, but really couldn't see the climbs as visibility was about 20 feet.  Nothing too bad, long moderate inclines, and three hills that took some effort, but nothing like humping it over the Harbor Bridge.

I reached the halfway turn-around in 45:40, and in 9th position.  At that point I figured I would lose 30 secs to a minute on the back side and finish in 1:31-1:32.  However, I had forgotten one significant aspect of an out-and-back course.  You begin to pass the hundreds of runners headed in the opposite direction.

No matter how bad you feel, you have to at least give the appearance you're doing O.K, and hide the fact that you're actually about to start crying.   By mile nine, another runner and I broke away and were fighting for the 5th overall position. For the next three miles, I would close the gap to 15 yards, then he would stride to widen it back to 25. With a mile remaining, I knew I wasn't going to catch him.

I looked at my watch for only the second time of the race. I was on a 1:30:15 pace.  The course was USTA certified, and I knew a sub 1:30 half marathon guarantees entry into the New York Marathon. I went into a full stride, pulled along by the crowd support the last 400 yards.

I crossed the finish in a new PR of 1:29:27, placing 6th overall and 2nd in my division. I drank a bottled water, the first I had the whole race.  I then headed back out on the course at an easy 8:00 min/mile pace to get my full 17-mile long run logged.


"Dia De Los Muertos" 8k Night Run
I told the girls to focus on the distance,
and ignore time, "...but I do expect you
to beat the Jellyfish."

Gator Half Marathon Pic

Weekly Recap-3 Weeks Until San Antonio

Sunday.
Walked / jogged 15 throughout the day.

Saturday.
New Braunfels half marathon, extended into 17. Walked 4 at night.

Friday
Jogged 7 in am. Ran a 8k Dia Los Muertos run with Jenny and girls in S.A. at night.

Thursday.
Walked / jogged 5 during lunch.

Wednesday.
Walked / jogged 10 throughout day.

Tuesday.
11 during lunch. Walked / jogged another 4 at night.

Monday
5 during lunch, walked 2 more. Walked 4 at night.

Gator Half Marathon

Gator Half-Marathon

(As in, "You'll need to watch out for the alligators.")

 

I had my last 20 miler of this cycle scheduled.  The weather was reasonably good Tuesday, so I decided to knock it out.  By mile 7, I was knocked out.  Having done the Harbor Half Marathon just two days earlier, I hadn't physically recovered enough to do a 20 miler.  More saliently, I wasn't mentally ready either.

 

It's been a long cycle, and by Wednesday I was 90% committed to skipping my 20 mile training run.  But being only three weeks out from the San Antonio Marathon, I was worried that skipping it might kill my confidence in a PR attempt.

 

Thursday I began hastily scouring the Web for a race to motivate me.  The only last minute one I could fit into my tight schedule was a half marathon trail run Sunday morning.  Brazos State Park is located halfway between Victoria and Houston, and has 30 miles of trails looping around four large lakes.  As the race was two laps, I figured I could just do a third to get in my 20.

 

Saturday morning I woke at 6:00 am to run a 5k race with my daughter.  I followed this up with back-to-back birthday parties, each for eight year olds.  For a moment I figured that the parties would suffice; enduring a birthday party for 20 wild screaming 2nd-graders is physically and mentally equivalent to enduring a 20 mile run, barefoot through a thorn patch.

 

I didn't get on the road until 6:00 pm, and arrived at my hotel at 9:00.  As I headed to my room the desk-clerk noted, "Oh, we also have a full hot breakfast from 6:00-10:00: eggs, pancakes, sausages."  I sighed and lugubriously replied, "Can't, I have to check-out at 5:30 am."

 

After a ten minute gear check, I hit the bed and was dead to the world.  In what seemed a minute, my 5:00 am alarm went off.  I strained to open one eye halfway, "Screw it."  I resolved to get three more hours sleep and then hit the buffet for a dozen pancakes.  I'm not sure who put them there, but I found both my feet on the floor.  "Well, crap. I'm committed now."

 

I drove for 30 minutes down pitch black country roads and arrived at the park just after 6:30.  At a small pavilion, about 90 runners were assembled.  For a small event, it was very well organized.  At 7:00, the announcer called us into the chute.  Then the announcer looked directly at me and then the two guys standing a foot to my left. From the neck down we looked like identical triplets.  "You three might want to get in front," the announcer directed.

 

I stood at the start line with my two reunited siblings. We were then joined by a fourth runner, a little girl no more than three-and-half feet tall, with bright blond hair braided in two pig-tails that wrapped around her head in a kind-of Princess Leia hairdo.

 

"Oh honey, you're doing the relay," the announcer rhetorically asked her.  "OK, you might not want to stand in front."  The girl didn't even reply with a glance in acknowledgement.  The horn sounded and we were off.

 

After just 50 yards my two siblings were in fact leading 1st and 2nd.  I was running 4th as Princess Leia was out like a sprinter.  I said to myself, "How incredibly fearless for this little girl to try and run a relay-leg of a half marathon."  I simultaneously thought, "How incredibly stupid that someone threw a little girl in this with no coaching; she'll be walking by mile two."

 

The trail was generally good and alternated among stretches of gravel and dirt.  The gravel was moderately compact, with occasional golf-ball sized stones here and there.  The dirt pack was soft, and had the occasional tree-root or broken branch sticking out.  As a result, you had to stare at your feet the entire run.

 

I didn't catch the little girl until mile three, and she was still pushing with good-form at a 8:00 min/mile pace.  "Wow, amazing.  Go get it girl!" I encouraged as I finally past.  I was now third overall, and could see the two leaders about 100 yards off.  I settled into my 20 mile pace, but decided to peek-up now and then to look for any signs of weakness in the leaders.

 

Finishing the first lap, I had no idea of my pace since I left my watch turned off, intentionally.  But my leg turn-over felt fast and I estimated I'd complete the first lap in 47 minutes or so.  Crossing the timing-mats I looked up at the clock, 50 minutes.  "What!?"

 

I couldn't believe my actual pace was 30 seconds/mile slower than my "felt" pace.  Giving it some more thought while cruising my second lap, it was logical.  It was a little warm and humid at the start, I was wearing my heavy trainers and not race shoes, and the soft-give in the trail reduced my striding power somewhat.

 

I finished the bend around "Horseshoe Lake" and converged on the main trail again.  That's when I saw the women's race leader headed to the lake, the little girl!!!!  She wasn't doing the relay; she was doing the full half marathon.  It then dawned on me, she wasn't a little girl.  She was what is now called, "A little person," or what George Carlin used to euphemistically refer to as, "A person who is vertically challenged."  Nevertheless, it was odd to see such a small frame pushing along at that pace.

 

Halfway through the second lap, I was passed by another runner which temporarily moved me to 4th place overall.  But just a mile later, I caught one of my siblings and moved back into 3rd.  With a mile remaining, I began hearing sliding gravel behind me as another runner had moved within 10 feet.  I had a decision to make.

 

To hold him off, I would have to run full-bore the last mile, but that might jeopardize my ability to make my full 20.  I tested him and increased my pace a nick for 50 yards.  He held-on, clearly willing to fight for it.  I acknowledged to myself that the purpose of this trip was to make my 20; I dropped my pace and encouraged him as he past to cross the finish placing 3rd overall, with me 30 yards behind in 4th at 1:43.

 

I just ran through the finish and started a third lap.  My race was over and now I could afford a few glances up to see the park.  The lakes were large and swamp-like, but completely placid.  I ran past a dozen or so "birders" taking pictures; how nice it would be to just stroll the trails.

 

I finished my third lap which took me to 19.6 miles, which should have been good enough.  But having come so far, I ran another quarter mile of a 4th lap, and then jogged back to the pavilion to make a full 20.  The post-race event was great.

 

Two Bar-B-Qs were full of hamburgers and hot dogs, and right next to half-a-dozen ice-chests stocked with a variety of cold drinks.  I grabbed a burger and sat at one of the picnic tables.  When I looked up, the women's overall winner was two feet from me.  She was a young girl!!

 

She sat pressed against her proud father.  "That was incredibly amazing.  How old are you?" I could see that she was in-deed quite young as she didn't answer and shyly hid behind her Dad's back, just peeking one eye above his shoulder.  Her father began to speak.  He too was quite accomplished, well in the conversational arts for he didn't stop to take a breath for 15 minutes.

 

He explained that she was nine years-old, and this was her 3rd half-marathon.  She just PRed in 1:53.  Phenomenal!  The father looked like a runner also, and I figured he must be some-kind-of university track coach to have a pre-teen daughter at this caliber.  I inquired, but his jaw had built-up so much momentum, it couldn't slow enough to turn toward a reply.

 

I caught it when he said, "My girls [plural] have a strong running base."   To slow him down a little, I stood up and pointed one foot in the direction of the hot-dog table.  Before leaving, I was able to squeeze in, "Girls?"

 

He continued, "Her older sister runs also; she did a full marathon yesterday."  I asked how old she was.  Without a wink, smile, or even grin, he dry and plainly answered, "Eleven."

 

1st in my Division / 4th Overall

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Weekly Recap- 4 Weeks Until San Antonio

Sunday.
Gator half marathon, kept going to get in 20.

Saturday.
5k with Juliet in morning

Friday
Walked, mostly jogged, 6 during lunch.

Thursday.
3 in after breakfast, walked 1 more. Nine at night with 5 X 800 meter VOmax pace. Walked two more.

Wednesday.
In AM, was going for 20, stopped at 7, feeling a little over-trained. Walked 2 more.

Walked / jogged 11 throughout evening.

Tuesday.
Five during lunch, walked 1 more. Walked / jogged 5 at night.

Monday
Five during lunch. Walked / jogged another 9 in evening.

Harbor Half Marathon

When I arrived at 6:30 a.m., it was 71 degrees with 95% humidity. I left my watch in the car.

I walked to the front of the race chute and chatted with some locals. There was one whose name I didn't know but who I recognized. I noticed he didn't have a bib. He said, "I just found out about the race yesterday and tried to register, but was too late.

"The announcer called us to queue-up. It was then that a race official noticed this runner didn't have a chip and asked why. The runner explained but the official told him, "This event is for paid runners, you'll have to move to the back of the chute.

"Clearly the official was in his right, but the fact he actually did it just pissed me off. It was completely unnecessary; this is just a local race. I foolishly stuck my nose in it and said very loudly referring to the runner, "He's fine; he knows what he's doing." The official went and got the race director, which really ticked me off. I continued to spout my view to leave the runner alone, and then I offered, twice, to make a donation equal to his fee. The officials didn't relent and moved the runner off the start.

The gun fired and we were off. It was hot and humid from the get-go. As I ran up the 120-foot bridge climb the first time, there was a light breeze head on. I straighten up, looked to the sky, and ran on feel.  At the half way mark I had no idea of my time or pace, but I felt good in the legs. I saw later that my split was 47:19 (3:10 pace). After turning around, it got bad, zero wind and sun out.

Legs still felt good, but at mile nine I was soaked through, sloshing in my shoes, and hurting. I technically ran the second time up the bridge, but it was probably at a walking pace. I was on the verge of heat stroke and feel apart, losing 3 minutes on the split.

I finished in 1:37:40. Second in my division, 14 out of 390 half marathoners, and 19th out of the total 600 counting the 210 relay teams.

Weekly Recap- 5 Weeks Until San Antonio

Sunday.
Harbor Half Marathon

Saturday.
Walked / jogged 5.

Friday
Walked 3 in morning. Hit pavement for 5 with 3 farklicks after work. Jogged 4 at night, walked 1 more.

Thursday.
5 at lunch with 3 X 800 LT pace.

Wednesday.
10 during lunch. Walked 4 after work.

Tuesday.
up at 5:30am and hit pavement with Mike, Jeff, and Jamie for 6. Walked another 5 at lunch. Walked / jogged another 8 at night.

Monday
9 with 3 X 1,200 at slightly reduced VOmax pace during lunch.