Jacksonville Bank Marathon

Apologies in advance for this indulgent, self-congratulatory post but I’m really pleased with my performance in the Jacksonville Bank Marathon this weekend.  I’ve been patting myself on the back so much I think I hurt myself.

To begin with, 10 days before the race I had no idea I would be running.  Since the Marine Corps Marathon I have not done any distance training.  After a brief recovery period I spent my time trying to acclimate to running in huaraches and making improvements to my form.  I had run a lot, but the longest distance I had run was 8 miles.  I guess you can count two 5k’s as speed workouts and the runs in huaraches were as stressful on my legs as long runs.  So it was more than just fun and games even though it didn’t feel like training.

When I got the call offering a position as a pace leader for the race, I immediately ran a 19 mile long run, with no advance preparation, just to give myself the confidence that I was up to the task.  To say that I was pleased with my ability to do this is a huge understatement.

I was up at 3 am for the commute to Jacksonville which meant about 4.5 hours sleep. That’s par for course for me.  Someday I’ll find out if a solid night’s sleep can improve race day performance.

I was assigned to be the 4:45 pace leader.  We were instructed to run even splits and warned not to “bank” time.  This meant averaging about 10:52 per mile, almost a full minute under my usual race pace.  I was confident in my ability to finish the race, but I have to admit I was nervous about trying to run it with that strategy.

It turned out to be an awesome race.  I found that pace very comfortable and never even felt winded during the entire 26.2 miles.  This meant lots of time and energy for conversation and I met some great folks along the way.

I started with a small group of about 6 people and picked up and dropped runners throughout the race.  I had one runner that was with me from the start that stayed with me for over 20 miles, a local runner named Steve who was running his first marathon.  I knew he was starting to struggle by about mile 18 when I heard him start to shuffle his feet.  I encouraged him on and he made it another 2 miles before he dropped back.  I have to admit I suffered a moral dilemma at that point trying to decide whether to hold my pace or help this one runner that had stayed with me for so long.  I slowed down for a bit but eventually continued to run my assigned pace.  I found Steve after the race and he told me he finished right at five hours and was happy with that.

I was pleased to discover that I was running with several people with ultramarathon and trail running experience.  I picked up some good tips and race recommendations including several in Alabama I intend to check out, thanks to Bill from Birmingham.

I finished the race with two runners including a first timer named Chris from Pennsylvania who had not run more than 10 miles in training, on a treadmill no less!  Oh to be young again.

Cons

1. Really not many from a runner’s perspective.  There was some confusion behind the scenes for pacers like confused assignments and some of the balloons we were supposed to carry indicating our pace were popped or missing.  I doubt this was anything most of the runners would have noticed.  This didn’t affect my enjoyment of the race in the least.
2. Traffic.  There were a few times late in the race that cars and runners shared the road.  It was just a few vehicles and I never felt endangered.  I was towards the back of the pack though and this might not have been the experience of the runners up front.
3. Hydration.  I find cool weather hydration tricky.  Over hydrating before the race caused me to make several pit stops in the first half of the race.
4. My Garmin died on me.  It’s out of warranty by just 2 months and suddenly the battery life plummeted to about 2.5 hours.  It quit on me just after I passed the midpoint of the race.  The pace band I was wearing combined with the frequent time clocks proved to be invaluable to keep me on track.
5. My bib#:  666.  How unlucky is that!

Highlights

1. The course itself.  This is promoted as Florida’s Fastest Marathon and I can see why.  There was hardly anything that even this flatlander would consider an incline.  It was mostly run on shady, tree canopied streets through some beautiful neighborhoods.
2. The weather was perfect.  High 40’s for the start and I was comfortable in short sleeves.  The streets were often half in shade and half in sun which made regulating your temperature easy just by moving in and out of the sun.
3. Time clocks at nearly every mile marker were a real luxury and near the end of the race there were clocks at both the full and half marathon mile markers which I presume were offset by about a tenth of a mile.
4. The volunteers were awesome.  The water stops were well staffed by people who seemed to know what they were doing.  The race as a whole was very well organized.
5. My bib#: 666.  I was singled out and cheered for by both spectators and other runners thanks to that number.  It turned out to be a lot of fun and I relished every moment of it.  How lucky is that!

 So how’d I do?

I finished with a chip time of 4:44:12 a mere 48 seconds ahead of my assigned time of 4:45:00 (accomplished without the benefit of my Garmin for half the race – thank you very much!).

My half marathon splits were 2:21:33 and 2:22:39.  I hope the 66 second differential between the first and second half of the race met the race organizer’s expectation for even splits.

Would I do it again?  In a heartbeat!

There is something to be said for reaching the finish line invigorated instead of spent.  Sure my legs were fatigued and I had some of the usual post marathon aches but now, just two days after the race I feel fine.  I also really enjoyed the social aspect of being a pacer.

Marathon Pace Wrist Bands

I thought I would share this handy tool I plan to use to help me stay on my target pace (10:52) for the Jacksonville Bank Marathon this weekend.

I long ago figured out that even simple math is beyond my mental capacity once I pass the 20 mile mark in a run.  With a glance at my Garmin I can easily determine stats like my current pace, average pace for the current mile and my average pace for the entire race.  If I'm off target though, I find it very hard to calculate how much I need to speed up or slow down in order to get back on track.

I tried to do exactly that calculation late in the Marine Corps Marathon and ultimately gave up.  I finished the race with a PR which was awesome but just missed the goal I had set for myself and couldn't help but be just a little disappointed.

I would hate to fall short of my responsibility as a pace leader this weekend because of a math error.  This wrist band, courtesy of Marathon Guide, should help.

Mile 24

Mile 24 is a very bad place.

I spent the day on the sidelines of the Space Coast Marathon yesterday, taking photos and playing the part of cheerleader.  I have to admit being more than a little envious.  Unfortunately I can’t run every race and as friends were lining up at the start I was disappointed that I was not joining in.

I usually position myself close to the finish to get a contact high from the excitement as people get that first look at the finish line.  This time I spent a lot of time at mile 24 and it brought back a flood of memories.

The memory of the last few miles of my first marathon last year has not receded a bit with time.  Overcoming the emotional low I experienced while fruitlessly attempting to run past the wall was such a singular moment of my life that the memory perseveres.

As I watched the faces of hundreds of runners move past me I could empathize.  Sure, there were those lucky few that seemed to relish every moment of the race, but the vast majority were in obvious discomfort.  Muscle cramps, sore knees or shins or hips, hunched over with aching backs.

Thirsty.

Hungry.

Exhausted.

They just wanted it to be over.

At mile 24 the finish seems at the same time close and impossibly far away.  Time slows and minutes seem like an eternity.

Early on in the race the miles rolled off effortlessly but eventually you start to measure your progress in tenths of a mile, then hundredths, then landmarks (please let me just make it to that next tree or block or driveway).

Then you start to count your steps.

Every attempt to reassure yourself that the race is almost over fails miserably.  Two miles seems like an impossible distance to cover when every effort to will your legs to move is met with a refusal.  The sense of frustration and defeat is overpowering.

I ran with some, talked with some, tried to offer encouragement.  My words seemed to be met with equal measures of gratitude and irritation, but I understood.  More than that, I was inspired by their strength of will.  Despite the agony and suffering, no one quit.  Universally, they all kept moving forward.

So now I have another memory of mile 24 that will persevere.

Oorah! MCM 2011

What an adventure!

I spent an awesome Halloween weekend in Washington, DC for the Marine Corps Marathon with WVR’s Grand Poobah, Jennifer, and WVR’s resident expert on running, resident expert on training, resident expert on . . . WVR's Resident Expert, Drew.  The weekend will prove to be one of the highlights of my life.

I arrived a day early in the hopes getting a chance to see the sites as it was my first time in the Capital.  Wishful thinking.  I had just enough time Friday evening to take a nice long walk on the National Mall and get in a decent meal.  The mall was beautiful at night and it just whetted my appetite for more.  I have to go back.

I slept in Saturday (what a luxury) and dedicated the day to the expo.  The DC Armory was packed but the Marines are the epitome of efficiency and crowd control and I moved quickly through lines collecting my bib, shirt and a few other goodies.  It was difficult to get around but there were plenty of exhibiters to see and I even got a brief glimpse at Ryan Hall doing a meet and greet.  I didn’t plan well for nutrition during the expo and ate only a couple of granola bars I had packed, a hot dog, samples cliff bars, and assorted sports and nutrition products.  Not exactly the best way to eat the day before a marathon.

Late in the afternoon I met up with Jennifer, Drew and Jeff (a WVR member that relocated to DC and who thankfully played the part of our guide on Saturday).  On the way back to the hotel we stopped for last minute supplies at Walmart and were greeted by snow when we exited the store.  We made fools of ourselves playing in the snow in the parking lot.  You would have thought we were from Florida.

Washington embraces this race in a way I have never experienced before.  Runners take over the town.  I struck up conversations with people from all over the country everywhere I went and the locals were great hosts.

We finished the day with an Italian dinner and retired early to try to get a decent night’s rest before the race.

I woke at 4 am Sunday morning which gave plenty of time to get dressed and leisurely make our way to the Metro for the short trip to the Pentagon. There was a little confusion finding our way to the staging area but we made it with plenty of time to spare.

The bad weather broke Saturday night and we were greeted by clear and crisp weather freezing cold conditions arctic like conditions for the race.  There was the typical line for port-a-potties but the wait was reasonable and the drop bag drop-off went very smoothly thanks to a fleet of UPS trucks.  We waited until the last minute to shed our extra layers before moving to the starting area.  With our extra sweat shirts and coats finally stashed in our drop bags the cold chilled us to the bone, but we only had to suffer through it for about half an hour.

At Walmart the previous evening I purchased a short sleeve shirt to wear as base layer beneath a long sleeve T.  I didn’t pay close attention to what I purchased and wound up with a compression T by mistake.  When I first tried it on I thought I had accidently purchased a child sized shirt.  I’d never tried compression clothing before and I was worried about trying it for the first time during a marathon.  The gamble paid off though and it turned out to be a great base layer.

It was 35 degrees at the start of the race.  Drew and I waited for the start at the 4:00 corral while Jennifer made her way toward the front of the pack with the other speedsters.  While we waited, parachute jump teams descended with a flag in tow and there was a fly over by a pair of MV-22 Ospreys – those things are totally badass!  The guest MC of the starting ceremonies was Drew Carey who was running his first marathon.

I was wearing a pair of shorts under sweat pants, the compression shirt, two long sleeve T’s, and my Saucony Kinvara 2’s.  I shed the first long sleeve T as soon as the Howitzer blast signaled the start of the race.  The sweat pants were stripped off around mile 6, and I was comfortable for the rest of the race in shorts, the compression T, and long sleeve T.  I would have been OK with just one layer but shedding another shirt would have meant messing with my bib.  The temperature never exceeded 40 degrees but I was never uncomfortable during the run.

My goal for the race was to try to finish under a 10 minute mile average pace, about a 4:21 total time.  My strategy was to start slow and walk through the water stations.  I would have been content with an 11 minute pace for the first few miles but we were a bit faster than that, averaging 10:03 over the first 3 miles, most of which was uphill.  I opened it up during a downhill mile 4 and finished it at a comfortable 8:41 which could have been even faster but for the crowded conditions.  That was my fastest mile of the race.

Things leveled out after that and Drew and I settled into a comfortable 9:45 pace for the next 11 miles. My slowest mile of the race came during this period, 10:54 in mile 7 accounted for by a stop to water some bushes and to strip off my sweat pants.

Drew and I ran side by side for over 20 miles, seldom straying more than a few feet apart.  It was great to share this experience with him.  Our pace started to creep above 10:00 between miles 16 and 20.  But this is also the stretch of the course that winds around the National Mall.  As we passed the monuments and Capitol we stopped to take pictures and I even took time to upload some of them to facebook.  Even with the stopping our slowest mile during this stretch was only 10:35.

I was feeling great at mile 20 and felt like I had energy to burn.  I checked my watch and saw that our overall average pace had increased to 9:50.  My goal was still achievable but that dreaded final 6 miles was still ahead of me and potentially another encounter with “the wall.”  With the photo ops behind us, I leaned forward and decided to start taking this race seriously.  I was able to increase my pace well below 10:00.

It was great to feel that much energy 20 miles into a marathon, but my ignorance of the course showed through and I found out that it was a very poor place kick in the afterburners.  The course moved onto I-395, bridged the Potomac, and for the next several miles undulated up and down as interstates are wont to do.  There were also very few spectators that ventured onto the interstate to cheer us on.  Throughout the entire race I was amazed at how uplifting was the support of the spectators.  Whenever I started to feel myself reaching an emotional low, I made my way to the edge of the road, high fived a few kids and was instantly rejuvenated.  There were even points in the race that I slalomed from one side of the road to the other slapping hands as I ran past.  It’s impossible to express how motivating the crowd support was.  Between the lack of crowd support on the interstate and the hilly roadway, my spurt of energy lasted a paltry 2 miles and I saw the last of my sub 10:00 miles.

I took in the last of my sustenance during mile 23 after we finally exited the freeway, but what a smorgasbord it was.  I ate the last of the four gels I was carrying (Power Bar Energy) approaching the water station, drank Gatorade instead of water, snacked on a chocolate donut hole shortly after the water stop, and as I rounded the next corner accepted some beer from some very generous spectators.  How I avoided puking I’ll never know.  All that snacking resulted in a 10:40 mile 23.

I checked my average pace again and it had ticked up another few seconds.  I tried to do the math to figure out how many seconds of give I had in each mile in order to stay below that 10:00 goal but the solution escaped me.  I long ago learned that I find even simple addition and subtraction extraordinarily difficult during long runs.   I gave up on the math and resolved to just give it my all and ignore the pace readings on my Garmin until I crossed the finish line.

I think that decision was for the best because I improved over the next three miles.

I finished mile 24 in 10:15.

Mile 25 ticked off another 10:19 and I realized that for the first time ever in a marathon I was not going to hit the wall.  Thrilled, I dug deep in mile 26, ignored my many body parts that were complaining, and improved my pace to 10:01.

Then came the final two-tenths.  I looked around for the finish line and when it finally came into view . . . .

Holy Crap!

Are you kidding me?

I knew this race had an uphill finish but I was completely shocked by the climb that lay ahead of me.  I slowed to a walk almost as soon as I hit the incline.  Frustrated that I was letting this race get the best of me for the first time all day I stared at my feet and watched my legs struggle to lift them with every step.

“Come on!” I yelled at myself, less than a quarter mile to go.

Click.

Thinking of it in terms of a quarter mile was what flipped the switch.  My mind flashed back to all those intervals I’ve been running over the past few months.  Track Tuesdays.  95 seconds.  That’s all it will take.  I consistently run those quarter mile intervals in 95 seconds.  95 seconds and this race is over!

With that thought I started running again and made it the rest of the way to the finish.

The Marine Corps expertise at logistics was again demonstrated as we were quickly ushered through the finish area.  The finishing chute quickly narrowed and the runners were herded like cattle, forced forward by the crowd behind.  We were separated into individual lanes to receive our medals.  A Marine placed my medal around my neck, shook my hand and congratulated me, a ritual he must have repeated thousands of times before I reached him, but which still seemed so genuine that I found it very moving.

Another Marine draped an emergency blanket around my shoulders and the chill that had started to set in since I stopped running was immediately relieved.

When I finally thought to check my watch, the average pace read 10:00.  Did I make my goal?  I looked at the other statistics and saw my total time was 4:24:57 but the distance measured a little long, which is normal, at 26.49 miles.  What did it mean?  Did I make my goal?  Again the math was proving to be too difficult and I suddenly couldn’t even remember my prior PR.  I’d have to wait for the official results to figure it out.

We posed for official photos in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial and then moved along in an orderly line to receive Gatorade, water, bagels, bananas and a box of treats.  Nearly every need was met, except a place to sit down.  I was still woozy after the run and desperately needed a place to sit down, but I understood their need to keep the crowd moving in order to avoid a bottleneck that would have backed up onto the race course.

I soon found a sunny spot to sit and lean against a fence.  I took a few minutes to collect myself and drink a bit and then set off in search of Jennifer, Drew and Jeff.  There was a bit of a walk to retrieve our drop bags and we found each other along the way.  We found a sunny spot to sit, put on some warmer clothes and munched on our snacks.

When we were feeling better we went searching for the beer tent and wonder of wonders discovered there was no wait for beer.  Those Marines are miracle workers.

After replenishing some carbs it was time for some real food.  We discovered that the DC Metro is not nearly as skilled at crowd control as the Marines.  We decided to forgo the long line and hoof it across the bridge to Georgetown.  There was no hope of following my usual post run recovery routine, but I think all of this walking went far to abate my  aches and pains.  We ducked in to the first sports bar we found and spent a few hours devouring burgers and wings and watching football.

Sated and exhausted, we had to endure another walk back to the metro station where the line had thankfully dissipated.  After a short ride we were back at the hotel, raided the market across the street for beer and comfort food, and spent the evening laughing, reminiscing and telling war stories.

It was an awesome weekend and one I will never forget.

Oh, I almost forgot.  Did you want to find out if I made my goal?

My official time was 4:24:48, which beat my personal record from the Charleston earlier this year by 70 seconds.

I finished 8,248 out of 21,013 finishers.

I placed 5,802 out of 12,420 men.

I placed 725 out of 1,531 in my age division.

My average pace . . . .10:06.

I didn’t make my goal, but am I unhappy?  Not in the least.

The difference between making my goal and not was stopping to take pictures like this:

And I would not trade these for the world.

I’m leaving on a jet plane. . . .

This time tomorrow I’ll be in Washington DC.   I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself.

The forecast for the start of the race Sunday morning is sunny and 40 degrees.  A little chilly for this Florida boy, but it should be fairly comfortable as soon as we start running and just about ideal by the time we reach the midpoint of the race.

I’m ready for the race, but is DC ready for me?

It was a dark and stormy night . . . .

The dense clouds ushered in an early dusk on a late September evening.

A determined figure fast approached through the deluge, eerily silhouetted in the relentless sheets of rain, head hanging low under the fatigue of miles, body contorted in an effort to slice through the unyielding wind.

Lightening crashed in a blinding strobe leaving in its wake a seemingly impenetrable void.

Unbeknownst even to him, plodding through the darkness stride after unending stride in leaden shoes soaked far beyond the point of saturation, quietly and without fanfare, Running Bird ran his 3,000th mile.

Restless Legs

Anyone else get restless legs when you taper?

I’m taking a light week in advance of the Miracle Miles 15k this weekend, kind of a mini-taper.  My legs were bouncing up and down so hard during dinner last night that I almost toppled the wine glasses.  This was despite the fact that I ran 20 miles Sunday and had a vigorous speed workout Tuesday.  Missing a single mid-week 8-10 mile run has left me bouncing off the walls.

The last two weeks of October are going to be misery.

Am I an athlete?

Because I’m old and nostalgic, I reached for the dusty dictionary I keep within arm’s reach of my desk:

ath-lete (ath-leet)  n.  a person trained to compete in contests involving physical agility, stamina or strength; a trained competitor in a sport, exercise, or game requiring physical skill.

and because I’m not completely technologically inept, I also referenced dictionary.com:

ath•lete  [ath-leet] 
noun
a person trained or gifted in exercises or contests involving physical agility, stamina, or strength; a participant in a sport, exercise, or game requiring physical skill.

I’ve seen this term bandied about recently, even by myself, but never in reference to myself.  I don’t consider myself an athlete.  Never have.

I played organized sports as a kid, swimming, soccer, baseball, etc.  By the time I reached high school those days were behind me, save for the occasional pick-up game with friends.

30 years later I find myself accomplishing things physically that I never dreamed possible. Does that make me an athlete?

I train.  I train hard.  4 to 5 days a week.  Speed work, hills, long runs, tempo runs, progression runs.  I put in the miles.  I improve.  Does that make me an athlete?

I enter contests.  I’ve even won a few awards.  Does that make me an athlete?

At what point do you become an athlete?  Is it when you enter your first competition? How about your 10th?

Could it be earlier than that?   Maybe it’s when you first start measuring your performance, striving to improve.

Is it a state of mind or something quantifiable?

I think it’s words like “skilled” and “gifted” that appear in the definitions that give me pause.  Those are the qualities of an athlete that I believe I lack.  A friend of mine recently pointed out that people like us are not “genetically endowed” with the qualities necessary to easily compete with those so gifted.

Ouch!

At least he didn’t shatter my dreams completely.  He qualified his comment with this:

. . . unless you want to hire a professional coach and do nothing else but train all day in a feeble attempt to improve your aerobic capacity beyond its natural limit.

Feeble?  Did he really have to say feeble?

He has a point though.  Skills are achievable with training, dedication and hard work.  Skills are still within my grasp.

Gifts, on the other hand, are by definition given.  “Genetically endowed,” as my friend would say.  Gifts are not a guarantee of success, but when combined with the work ethic required to hone skills . . . great things are achievable.

In my mind, that is the stuff of athletes.

I have been privileged during the course of my feeble quest for running skill to run with true athletes and the experience has always been inspiring.

Weird Stuff in my Running Kit

Things that might be hard to explain to a non-runner without them questioning your sanity:

Band-Aid Dots

Bandana

Towel

Body Glide

Duct Tape

Dr. Scholls Shoe Shot Powder

Gel Packets and an assortment of electrolyte tablets/powders/gels . . .

Ziploc baggies

Head Lamp/LED Flasher/Reflective Vest

and to think I used to believe all I needed for a run was a good pair of shoes, shorts and a shirt.

Going Streaking

Not quite as consistent as I would like, but I squeaked
past 100 miles during the last workout of the month.

I finally broke the 100 mile/month barrier again.  After a streak of 13 consecutive 100 mile months I decided I needed a break.  I was feeling a bit battered and suffering from shin splints and general aches and fatigue after training for the Croom 50k.  I reluctantly cut my mileage back to about 60 miles/month for two months.

Cutting back was a tough decision and one that made me feel surprisingly guilty.  I tried to console myself by recalling that not too long ago I would have been ecstatic about a 60 mile month.  It didn’t work.  I also tried to remind myself that my original goal was to maintain that level of training for a year – and that I surpassed that goal.  That didn’t work either.  There was no assuaging the guilt, but it was the right decision.  I did suffer a decline in my fitness level, but my legs feel healthy again.  I’m reinvigorated and excited about ramping up the mileage again.

I’ve got plenty to keep me motivated over the next few months.  The Marine Corps Marathon in October, the Space Coast Marathon in November, the Key West Ragnar Relay and a Doppel gathering at the Miami Marathon in January, a possible attempt at a 50 mile ultra in the spring, and probably a few other treats along the way.

So let the streaking begin.  I’ve got a 13 month PR to break. 

And for those of you that I lured into reading this post with a deceptively prurient title:

Milestones

I know it’s weird to do a “year in review” update in March, but I just reached a significant milestone.

I believe in the value of setting goals. One year ago I ran my first 100 mile month and set the goal of maintaining that level of running for at least one full year. I achieved that goal this month.

Succeeding required running a total of 1,516 miles including:

• four 5k’s
• a 4 mile race on the beach
• a 15k
• two half marathons
• two marathons, and
• completing an ultramarathon training program (I’m currently tapering for the race on 4/9/11)

I suffered aches and pains along the way, but managed to complete the year without incurring any significant injuries.  I attribute this both to Chi Running and to the sage advice of some very patient, generous and accomplished runners.

I discovered that the benefits of an ice bath far outweigh a few minutes of discomfort and rediscovered the long lost, youthful pleasures hidden deep within a tall glass of chocolate milk.

I found serenity in a 20 mile long run.

Most importantly, I found a great group of new friends who share my passion for running. I know I couldn’t have achieved this without them.

Congratulations!

Congratulations to all my friends that participated in the National Marathon to Finish Breast Cancer in Jacksonville yesterday. There were many first time finishers, PR’s galore, and at least one Boston Marathon qualifying effort that I know of already.

Watching you all train for and run this event has been inspiring.

Post Marathon Blues

Image courtesy of:
 http://littlemissmachete.blogspot.com/

They suck!

I need a new goal.

If your friends jumped off a bridge . . . .

Who needs a recovery week?

Apparently, I do.

I ran 21 miles Saturday, exactly one week after completing the Charleston Marathon.

Bad idea!

I did it on impulse, caught up in the excitement of friends peaking in their training for the Run with Donna Breast Cancer Marathon in Jacksonville next month. I’m still toying with the idea of running that race too.

My muscle aches following Charleston were gone by Tuesday. I completed an easy three mile run Wednesday morning followed by a much faster four miles Thursday evening and felt great afterward. My plan for Saturday was to do 10-12 miles but when it came time to turn around and everyone else was moving on, I couldn’t resist. I was feeling too good to turn back.

The first 10 miles went great. During the next five I started to notice just a hint of pain in my right leg. By the final three miles I had to stop and walk frequently to ease the pain.

Now, several days later, I am still experiencing pain in my shin and knee.

I knew better but I was feeling invincible.

It was such a dumb thing to do that I couldn’t even whine to my mother about being sore. Instead of sympathy, I had to face the “If your friends jumped off a bridge would you jump too?” lecture. I guess I deserved it.

Another hard lesson learned.

Charleston Marathon

The DoppelLaufers as known by their Cool Running handles on Active.com:  John425, Mtaurus575, dwm082, squeakygirl, Beer and Cupcakes f/k/a JimDo64, Surfing_Vol, and rbird

Charleston was awesome!

After months of planning and online taunting I finally got to meet my fellow DoppelLaufers face to face.

We invaded Charleston this weekend for the Riverfront Race Festival and the inaugural running of the Charleston Marathon. Seven of us made the trip, Jim and I ran the full marathon and everyone else ran the half.

Friday night we met at a local pub called the Griffon which became our official HQ for the rest of the weekend. We shared a few beers and started to solidify our friendship.

From there, we drove to North Charleston for the expo and packet pickup. My expectations were low for the expo, so I was surprised to see the large event tent and quite a few vendors hawking shoes, running clothes and gear. The packet pickup went smoothly, but there was a little back and forth required in order to pick up our bibs, bus passes for the return trip downtown after the race, and shirts. They were also serving a pasta dinner but we opted to look for some finer cuisine.

We settled on an Italian restaurant downtown called Pane e Vino. We had a bit of a wait but spent the time exchanging war stories at the bar. I had a total of three beers Friday evening between our time at the Griffon and the restaurant, which probably wasn’t the best idea the night before a race, but my goal for the weekend was first and foremost to have fun. I ordered the spinach ravioli which was delicious, but I found myself wishing the portion was larger as I looked enviously at the huge mound of spaghetti bolognese heaped on Don’s plate.

The race start was at 8:00 a.m. about a half mile walk from our hotels so we agreed to meet at 7:15. I woke at 5:45 and enjoyed a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee in a little café called Toast next to my hotel. I met another runner from Orlando at the next table and a local teacher at another table who was going to be entertaining us with her 2nd grade music students on the race course. The race benefitted local arts programs and she expressed gratitude for our traveling to Charleston for the race. Everyone I met in Charleston had that same attitude.

After breakfast I wandered around outside for a bit to get a feel for the temperature and obsessed over last minute clothing choices. It was 25 degrees outside which matched my coldest run in training, but I knew that it would climb to about 50 degrees by the end of the race. I settled on long pants, a long sleeve t-shirt, a light jacket, and gloves. I prepared myself to receive some ribbing from my cold blooded Doppel counterparts.

I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade to drink before the start and set out to meet my new friends. We were pretty cold waiting for the start, except Don, who hails from Buffalo, who was dressed in shorts and short sleeves and whose only concession to the cold was a pair of neon yellow gloves that perfectly matched the color of his Saucony Kinvaras. I found another group of runners from Florida huddled together on the sidewalk under trash bags trying to stay warm and was embarrassed for my State.

The race was a one way course that started in historic downtown Charleston and then headed north into some very nice neighborhoods in North Charleston. From the start we headed south on Bay St. towards the Battery, rounded the tip of the peninsula and then headed north. The view of Charleston Harbor was stunning with water on our left, beautiful row houses on our right, and thousands of bobbing heads still crowded closely together in between.

Jim and I managed to stay close enough in the crowd to talk and he confessed that his hands were freezing. I tried to stifle a smug chuckle as I flexed my toasty warm, gloved hands. 10 minutes later I stripped off my gloves and stuffed them into the waistband of my pants. I never noticed they were there during the race. Fast forward a few hours to my post race shower and I discovered that the cost of two miles of warm hands and 24.2 miles of unnecessarily carrying gloves in my waistband was a severely chaffed ass. Ouch.

There were a lot of people lining the streets to cheer us on in the downtown area. From there we proceeded north through some poorer areas of Charleston and a long stretch through a commercial area. This wasn’t exactly a highlight of the race but we were through it fast enough and moved on to a winding route through some beautiful neighborhoods in North Charleston.

At mile 11 the half and full marathon routes separated and I looked longingly in the direction of the shorter route. I was feeling good and maintaining a steady pace, but was already fatigued.

I decided to carry Powerbar gels instead of relying on what the race organizers provided at water stops. I ate my second gel at about mile 14 and felt a definite lift about 15 minutes later. At this point in the race the miles seemed to pass fairly quickly.

Jim and I managed to stay side by side for about 18.5 miles. At about mile 18 I started to lose a few steps on him and would periodically struggle to catch up. I could tell he was still going strong and encouraged him to go ahead if he was feeling good. I lingered a bit at the next water station and he took off. He must have had a great end to the race because he a gained about 15 minutes on me in those final 8 miles. We averaged about a 9:30 pace for the first 18 miles and it looks like he held that through the end of the race.

There was plenty of entertainment along the course. The highlight was a rock band consisting of some really talented kids at about mile 23. At about mile 20 we entered a riverside park with an African percussion group performing on the bandstand. By that time there was quite a bit of distance separating runners and I swear they increased the tempo of their drumming and dancing as I approached just to encourage me to run faster.

At about mile 21 we ran close to the finish line and I was uplifted when I heard the Doppels, who had finished the half marathon already, cheering for me. The next five miles consisted of an out and back section that seemed endless. The miles were no longer quickly ticking away. The entertainment on this section provided some relief, but there was no avoiding the disheartening frustration of rounding a bend in the road only to discover the turnaround was still out of view. I knew Jim was ahead of me and one of the things that kept me running was a desire to avoid the embarrassment of being caught walking when he passed me on the return leg. As it turned out, we passed each other at a water station so I was walking anyway with a cup in each hand trying to stay hydrated. Don, the ultra marathoner of our group who had helped pace Samantha through her first half marathon earlier in the day, was running with him.

The turn around came just after mile 23 and consisted of a traffic cone in the middle of the road. This was the only tight turn of the whole race and it could not have been more poorly placed. Slowing down to make that turn sucked the will to continue right out of me and I found it extremely difficult to continue running. This was the same place I hit the wall in the Space Coast Marathon. I started and stopped a few times over the next mile but I handled it much better than I did last November. During the Space Coast Marathon Mile 24 took me 14:21 this time I struggled through it in 12:47 and finished the rest of the race feeling much stronger than I did last time.

I dug deep and very gradually accelerated through the next two miles. I finally rounded a corner, saw the 26 mile marker and the finish line in the distance, and was surprised to find I had enough left in the tank for a finishing kick. I averaged 9:48 in that final stretch, almost exactly the same pace I ran mile 1.

Immediately after the race I felt lightheaded and suffered from tunnel vision. I sat down for a few minutes, drank a protein shake and water, and ate a banana and an orange slice and the sensation finally passed. We then shuffled over to find beer and the infamous shrimp ‘n grits.

I crossed the finish line in 4:25:58, a new PR and 1:41 faster than I ran the Space Coast Marathon. That wasn’t a huge improvement, but I finished the race feeling much better than last time.

We stayed until the awards ceremony and then caught the bus back downtown. We gave ourselves a few hours to rest and clean up then it was back to the Griffon where we settled in and drank, told war stories, laughed at each others accents, and planned future adventures . . . . until the barkeep chased us into the streets in the wee hours of the morning.

Caught off Guard

I’ve done this before. I’m a veteran now. So I can’t figure out how this snuck up on me without my realizing what was happening.

It started innocently enough.

Let’s take a look at the route for the Charleston Marathon.

. . . . tippity tappity . . . .

The race organizer’s map sucks. Let’s see what else I can find.

. . . . tippity tappity . . .

Oh look! I found the USATF certified map. Now we’re talkin’!

Now, how far is it from my hotel to the start? One, two, three . . . nine blocks.

No, I need to know precisely how far.

. . . . tippity tappity . . .

.5509 miles.

I wonder how many feet that is.

. . . . tippity tappity . . .

2908.752 feet.

Man, my ankle is a little sore today. It’s probably a stress fracture.

Hey, maybe I should check the weather forecast for Saturday while I’m at it.

. . . . tippity tappity . . .

Can I really trust weather.com? Maybe I should check a few other sources.

. . . . tippity tappity . . . intellicast . . . . tippity tappity . . . wunderground . . . . tippity tappity . . . accuweather . . . . tippity tappity . . .

And maybe the Charleston local news while I’m at it.

. . . . tippity tappity . . .

Ow! Stubbed my toe. It’s broken, I just know it. What was I thinking, walking around the house in bare feet? I’m an idiot.

Sniff, sniffle.

Oh crap! What are the symptoms of ebola?

. . . tippity tappity . . .

Yadda yadda yadda “hemorrhagic fever” yadda yadda yadda “death occurs in two weeks of onset of symptoms” yadda yadda yadda “ symptoms include weakness, dehydration, headache, joint and muscle aches . . .”

I knew it! I’ve contracted ebola. Well at least I’ve got two weeks and won’t keel over until after the race.

Damn taper madness.

2010 A Year of Running in Review

January
Total Mileage: 75

I started the year still over 200 lbs (from an original high of about 240 lbs) and mid-way through training for the Gasparilla Half Marathon. I resolved to run through the winter and if successful plan for a marathon by the end of the year (and continue to lose a few pounds along the way). A record breaking cold winter tested my resolve and I ran for the first time with temperatures in the 30’s. (Those of you from arctic climes cut me some slack. Remember I grew up in Florida and 30 degrees is cold!)

February
Total Mileage: 73

I completed my first half marathon, The Gasparilla Distance Classic, in 2:16:51.

March
Total Mileage: 71

I made the decision to start training for a marathon and began Hal Higdon’s Novice Marathon program.

April
Total Mileage: 110

My first 100 mile month and I increased my running schedule to 4 days per week.

May
Total Mileage: 145

I started this blog and completed my marathon program but discovered I was all dressed up with no where to go – no summer marathons. For the next few months I got measurably faster virtually every time I laced up my shoes.

June
Total Mileage: 114

I joined the West Volusia Running Group and ran my first sub 8:00 mile (no coincidence there). I also reached my weight goal of 180 lbs. I spent most of June and July with no formal running program, just running for the pure pleasure of it and increased my workouts to 5 days per week. Took my first ice bath.

July
Total Mileage: 101

I started racing again, running a four miler and my first 5k since 2006. I began formal training for the Space Coast Marathon.

August
Total Mileage: 127

I discovered I had a DoppelLaufer and together we birthed virtual racing.

September
Total Mileage: 102

I set my current 5k PR of 23:07 which was immediately followed by my first running injury serious enough to affect my training - ITBS. I spent three weeks on the mend.

October
Total Mileage: 173

I PR’d at the Daytona Beach Half Marathon, improving my time by more than 24 minutes over the Gasparilla Half Marathon in February. This was my highest mileage month of the year.

November
Total Mileage: 139

I began the month with my highest mileage week, 47, and ended it by finishing my first marathon, the Space Coast Marathon in 4:27:39.

December
Total Mileage: TBA

I won my first age group award and set a new record for my fastest mile – 7:14. I ran in the coldest weather to date with several workouts in the mid 20’s. I registered for my second marathon in Charleston on 1/15/11 where the DoppelLaufer Crew will converge and meet face to face for the first time, racing head to head.

As of this writing, I am 12 miles shy of completing my 9th consecutive 100 mile month.