The Main Event: The San Francisco Marathon

The race: 26.2 miles in 3:43:56

Well, that was insane.

I finished. I didn't meet my goal, didn't feel like I ran a good race, but I finished and I'm glad to have accomplished that. 94% of goal isn't that bad!

Race Morning

True to Thomas' prediction, I didn't really feel like I slept. I had put in good hours of sleep Thursday and Friday nights, basically did nothing taxing all day Saturday, so I wasn't too concerned, but it was a bit frustrating to toss and turn for 6 hours and then have the alarm go off at 10 to 4am and be already awake when that happens.

My brother, my wife and I got ready and left the house. My wife dropped us at an office near the start, as we were being hosted before the race by Galen. We met up there with Galen, and other K-Stars: Zach, Chris, Ari, Kevin and Matt, plus Galen's co-worker Ted. It gave us a chance to drop our extra sweats, take care of any final details, and use a bathroom one more time.

We reached the throng of people queuing for the start just about five minutes before the main starting gun of 5:30am, hearing the tail end of the National Anthem. It was a little challenging to navigate the crowd, but once reached the entry for Wave 2, it was remarkably clear (the congestion of people were lines for Port-A-Potties). It was still dark outside when an announcer started trying to whip the crowd up, and the view of the Bay and the buildings along the Embarcadero was pretty stunning. Wave 1 was released to a starting gun, and our wave shuffled forward. Galen, Chris and Ari were a bit in front of me, and my brother was next to me. When the start came, I gave my brother a quick hug and set off. Follow along on the course map if you like.

The first few miles

Immediately, it felt like everyone one passing me. I was constantly trying to remind myself to go out slowly and run my own race, since I knew I wanted to put in a few slower miles warming up before I got to any real work. When we approached Broadway, I knew from prior research that we were at the half-mile mark, and I saw that I was still going out too fast (3:50, equating to a 7:40 per mile pace, when I was shooting for 8:30). I managed to slow it down, seeing many more runners go out faster and pass me, and came into the first mile marker banner at 8:11 (pretty much the right pace for that half-mile).

[The mile marker banners were something I had seen at the Expo, the day before. The top half was white, with a red circle and a number in it. The bottom half had original artwork, such as a painting of the Japanese Tea Garden or of Bison from Golden Gate Park.]

On to Fisherman's Wharf, where the running has never been easier: the street was open to us and any tourists were watching from sidelines. Plus, being before 6 am, there simply weren't crowds of tourists watching. In fact, this is sort of a shame, as a large and seemingly endless stream of runners passes through a neighborhood virtually devoid of spectators. There had been some spectators at the start, but these dwindled quickly to where anyone you saw on the sidewalks were individually noticeable. At mile 2, I clocked in a 8:00 for the mile, 15 seconds faster than my prescription for that mile.

Mile three features Aquatic Park, which seemed to zip by. One fellow was lying on the benches just watching, and part of me felt like exhorting the few people there to cheer for crying out loud. Around the corner we faced the first hill: Fort Mason. Very steep and a bit longer than it seems, I fought my Cross Country hill-climbing instincts and told myself to take it nice and easy. Down the slope of Fort Mason and onto Marina Green we went.

My wife was there, holding a big sign that said "U R My SuperStar" and yelling "your wife loves you!" I smiled, noting that I completed mile three about 10 seconds slower than my pace band directed me, but feeling that the effort was right considering the hill and the early going. I also saw K-Star Kings with a bicycle, encouraging me and telling me he'd see me in the Park.

As I continued along the Green, into the little buttonhook, I completed Mile 4 just as I passed Matt and realized I hit that one right on pace, 7:43.

Crissy Field has never been so wind-free. As dawn was approaching, we seemed to approach Lincoln Hill with ease, just as I was being passed by the 3:30-goal pace-leader and his crowd of followers. I figured he must have started in Wave 3, and my slower-than-goal start would account for why I'd see him at this point. I saw the mile marker for Mile 5 and realized that I had given myself an allowance for the hill, but most of the hill was yet to come, so I wasn't concerned that my 7:52 split was 26 seconds ahead of what my paceband suggested. I sucked in the hill and kept pace with the 3:30 group, and the hill was a bit longer before the Bridge than I recalled it to be.

The Golden Gate Bridge

What a pleasure to run, unobstructed by cyclists and unobservant pedestrians on the Bridge! As I got there, I looked up and noticed the absence of fog. While there were clouds in the sky, the typical channel fog was not there! Also not there was a mile marker banner for Mile 6. I had yo-yo'd back and forth with a couple of guys who were running side by side, and I asked them what pace they were running ("We're doing Eights" was the reply). I knew my goal was to be ahead of these guys, and I started to pick it up a little because I knew that my pace for the bridge segment was to be a little faster, 7:26. I soon started to see runners coming back from the Vista Point turnaround, and the first guy was tall, lean, and fast, with a wide margin over the next two who were closer to each other. Then a small pack, which included K-Star Owen (whom I cheered for).

At the far end of the Bridge, I again didn't see the marker for Mile 7, so I had to start adding desired splits in my head so that when I would see the next mile marker I would get feedback. Through the Vista Point Plaza on the other side, I sucked on my water bottle and took my first energy gel. There was an unexpected little hill coming back out of Vista Point, heading back over the Bridge. Still, I pushed a little bit to stay on pace.

On the way back over the Bridge, I saw my brother heading out who waved and cheered me on. Maybe a minute later, I saw John, a fellow I made friends with in a training class a couple of months ago and forgotten that he was running too. He yelled my name and cheered and I broke into a great big smile because he told me to "kick ass."

Presidio to the Park

Off the Bridge, up the last bit of Lincoln hill, I finally saw a mile marker, Mile 10. (According to other runners, the mile markers on the Bridge were there, but they were different from the banners on the rest of the course, and less noticeable.) With some quick math in my head, I concluded that I had lost almost two minutes on the bridge, being behind the pace I had set for myself. My next mile was to be done in 7:54, but it started almost immediate with a long stretch of downhill. It was a lot more serious of a downhill than I remembered, and it just flew by with just a little push. There was a nice throng of spectators in the Presidio, and I reached the 11 mile mark in just 7:02, perhaps a bit fast, but that hill was easy to run down.

The turn down Lake Street was next, and I realized that I was being directed down the alternate (26th Ave instead of 27th). As I had noted from the time I ran this alternate, this was a much more rolling-hill circumstance than the main route, and I cursed my luck.

As such, I didn't keep pace. I was trying to hit 7:54 for the mile, and I struggled a bit on each uphill, coming in at 8:28. I started to fret and tried to focus on the advice Grethe gave me on my first 20 miler, about how in every marathon there's a point where you might feel trouble, but if you can just work past it, it can go away.

Golden Gate Park

We reached the entry to the park and I had forgotten how it included a slight incline. The number of spectators had certainly grown at this point, and it was great to have more people around. In fact, I saw both Kings and Mike who cheered loudly for me. But I was beginning to struggle to keep pace at this point. I brought in an 8:03 mile in a stretch that included some downhill (target: 7:22), and when the route really headed downhill and I was supposed to fly a bit, I missed the target again, though I did put in a 7:32. However, I was now at Mile 14 and the hard work of conquering the uphills in Golden Gate Park had begun.

And I felt slow. I finally had ditched my makeshift and nearly empty water bottle a couple of miles back and took water at a water station, along with a hastily ingested second energy gel. The cups sloshed, but I managed to get some water down. Perhaps not enough as the gel wasn't sitting quite right for me (same gels I always used, though).

MLK and Middle Drive never seemed so long before. The hills seemed to slow me down, but not insurmountably. I was only 7 seconds behind when I reached the 16 mile mark, but I could tell I was slowing down instead of speeding up as I pushed onward. Turning the corner back onto JFK, I saw Kings again, who cheered. I reached the turn into Stow Lake and struggled a little to keep pace. There was some more uphill in the approach to Stow Lake than I had recalled. I hit the mile 17 marker with an 8:32 mile, 40 seconds off pace.

Then, I walked. Perhaps I was discouraged to again miss the pace goal, and I know I wasn't feeling very strong. I looked at my watch and decided to walk for just 30 seconds and get going again. I got running again, and came out of Stow Lake thinking that things weren't going well, but on time to only miss my mile 18 target by 5 seconds. I came up JFK with lots of commotion (due to the finish line for the first half-marathoners on my left). I saw a lot of spectators, and then saw my wife, with our friend Erin, cheering and holding a different sign with offers of water or paper towels (I declined both and kept pressing on). A little later on JFK, I saw my friend Daniel with a stroller (his son Mark inside, no doubt), and he cheered me on.

This section of the park is largely flat, and I was to pick up the pace a touch, but I reached the mile 19 marker, just outside of Lake Alvorad Tunnel, with an 8:32 mile, another 46 seconds lost to my goal.

Up the steps and out of the Park, I crossed Stanyan to enter the Haight.

The Haight and The Mission

Danielle was there to cheer from the corner of Haight and Stanyan. I knew that in this mile, I'd have a four block downhill, and I knew I was supposed to pick up some time. I could also see the uphill section of Haight Street looming ahead. At this point, the pair of guys I passed on the bridge who were "doing 8's" passed me, shortly followed by the 3:30 pace-leader. I pushed to complete mile 20, and found myself more than a minute off pace, even with the downhill. I reached the incline portion and took another walk-break of 30 seconds. I felt like I was flagging. The 3:30 pace leader was gone, and I realized that my goal of breaking 3:30 was out of reach. I resolved to finish and finish strong.

I reached the union of the alternate (which I didn't have to take) and the main course at Buchannan, and Kevin came upon me, telling me I looked good (but I told him I was moving slowly). Kevin passed me and we headed down the steep block to Market. I expected my quads to hurt on this downhill, but it wasn't so bad. I headed down Guerrero, some downhill, and felt a bit slow but not too bad.

At 15th and Guerrero, I was greeted by Arno, holding a sign and jumping up and down cheering. Next to him were Robert and Amalia, also jumping up and down with not-yet-two year-old Miriam. A little further along was Rich, on his bike. Rich greeted me and starting riding along the sidewalk, parallel to me. I missed the split on my watch, though, having passed Mile 21.

The turn onto 16th Street was welcome, because I could eye the hill. However, this section started to feel slow, really slow to me. I think I took a brief walk break before the hill, but managed to work my way slowly up that hill on route to the 22 mile mark. My average time for those two miles was 8:54, about a minute slow per mile.

Potrero and Dogpatch

Then I started to become unglued. I walked a bit. Then, at the water stop before the 23 mile mark, I grabbed two cups of water, drank them both while walking, and got going again. Crossing under 280 was the mile 23 mark, and my split of 9:46 really discouraged me. I wasn't making up time after walking, and I was barely sustaining. In fact, I felt like my quads were telling me to shove off, and my hamstrings were tightening up. I started to alternate between walking and running.

It was uphill a bit when going south on Indiana Street, and I felt terribly slow. I saw the oddest thing along the course there: a small band playing music and a woman dressed like genie, balancing something on her head. Turning left onto 22nd Street, I was able to get moving a bit as the course went downhill. Rich was still nearby on his bike. I approached the corner of 3rd Street and 22nd and saw Karen and Stephan. Karen was jumping up and down and shouting encouragement. Across 3rd Street to Illinois and the turn up towards Embarcadero...

...and I was toast. Completely exposed, starting to feel warm in the morning sun, and a bleak, industrial backdrop. I barely gained any inspiration from being able to see the ballpark: it just seemed so far away. I walked. I ran a bit, but my legs felt heavy and painful. I walked some more. I ran a bit more. I came across David and Ariana with their pre-toddler Sunny, and they had made a sign for me and were cheering for me. A bit later, another runner asked me if I was the same Brent he had seen all the signs for, and I nodded. He said, "you must have a lot of friends."

This made me feel really good. I mean, so many people had come out to cheer me on, and to even have other runners notice... I just didn't see such support for other runners.

Nonetheless, upon reaching the 24 mile mark, I knew I must have hit the wall, as my split was 10:32. I kept trying to run and ended up walking. I walked through the next water stop, drinking two cups again, and tried running a bit more. I reached the 25 mile mark and felt like I could barely make it, and my split was 10:59. I looked over to Rich, on his bike, and told him I had fallen apart. He said, "no you haven't. You have less than a mile to go."

The Finish

I started running again. I think reached the ballpark and walked a fair bit, but past the ballpark, I somehow reached the 26 mile mark (in 12:09) and picked it up for the final 385 yards. I managed to keep going as the finish was pretty near, and just before the finish I saw my wife and Erin again, this time with another sign, screaming for me. I struggled my way to the finish line, saw the clock time of 3:48:something, and crossed, stopping almost immediately to walk.

Almost immediately I was greeted by volunteers, one to check off a box on my bib, and a navy sailor in dress whites who put the medal around my neck. I saw Galen, Ari and Kevin close by, and went in their direction. A volunteer clipped off the pace chip from my shoe, and I left a gate and greeted the guys. I wandered forward a bit to see what food and drink was available, grabbing a few things, and when I reached the end of the food area, I saw Rich on his bike, and my wife and Erin, and yet another sign that read "BRENT: San Francisco Marathon! HURRAH". They were cheering for me.

I found it hard to sit down. My legs were very sore, and I both did and did not feel like eating. Galen mentioned that he had had a hard race too, and that it was much warmer than forecasted. We used my wife's phone to get chip-timed results for several of us. We headed back to look for Chris and Zach and return to Galen's office, where I tried to take a quick shower in time to get back to see my brother finish, expecting he'd be slower than his goal due to the hard course and the heat. However, shortly after we took our places near the finish line, we pulled up his chip-timing and it made it look like he had already finished! I went looking for him and found him. I felt pretty bad that I hadn't been there to cheer him in the finish. He set a PR of 4:37!

Aftermath
Lunch at a nearby restaurant with seven of us. Beer (not much appetite for that, either). Drive home to drop of my brother, then to drop of Erin, then a massage. Then back home for a nap. Took my brother to the airport and then back home for dinner and crashing on the couch, and early to bed.

• • •

I cannot help but have mixed feelings about this result. I am suffering from post race pain (my legs are arguing with me about walking or bending), and there is a sense of withdrawal now that the big event has come and gone.

On the one hand, I prepared so diligently, I worked so hard, and I studied so many aspects of how to do this that I feel sort of crushed to have fallen apart in the race. I mean, I followed the Advanced Marathoning training very closely. Maybe I'd feel different about it if I had had a goal of 3:40 and ran the whole way, or maybe then I would have felt just as bad, wondering why I didn't have those extra few minutes in me. I can't tell if I feel worse about not meeting my goal of 3:30, or just how horribly those last miles went.

On the other hand, many people are telling me how this was a good time for a first marathon, and to place in the top 15% of all finishers and the top 21% of my age-group doesn't seem half-bad. And finishing a marathon, no matter what the time, is an accomplishment not to be overlooked.

Regardless of how I feel, however, those who have been reading this blog or those who know me will realize that I have to think about it. What went wrong?

• Was my goal too ambitious?
• Did I minimize how hard the course is?
• Did I not compensate for the heat and humidity well enough?
• Was I under-prepared?
• Did I carbo-load poorly?
• Did I hydrate enough the week before?
• Did I run too much while tapering?
• Did I just start out too aggressively?
• Did I lose it all on the 7:02 Split in the Presidio?
• Did I just not suck it up and keep going?

I described the experience as "falling off the cliff", and here's why:

Variance of Mile Splits versus Pace-Plan

Variance of Actual (total time) versus Plan

In the end, I have lots to think about. My body is laughing at me that I might have a thread of thought about ever doing this again, and I have a lot of things happening in the coming months that will take my time away from running. I think the best thing to think right now is "we'll see".

• • •

There will be a few more entries on this blog next week, after the party. Please come!

Off we go!

Reminder: live web updates!

I'm ready

Tomorrow's insanity: the San Francisco Marathon

I'm ready.

Since I began this insanity on March 28, I have:

• run 750 miles
• run 96% of the schedule from the book
  
• peaked at 55 miles in one week
• visited the track 6 times (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)
  
• run 38 Mission Loops
• run 3 10K races (1, 2, 3)
  

• run in San Francisco
• run in Santa Clara
• run in Los Gatos
  
• run in San Fernando Valley
• run in Maui
• run in the Santa Ynez Valley

• learned to use a heart rate monitor
  
• estimated my Lactate Threshold
  
• learned to drink while running
• learned to eat while running
• determined which energy gels to use
• learned to crush a cup and drink from it
  

• dealt with injury
• iced my knees hundreds of times
  

• figured out which shorts to wear
• shopped for and selected a singlet to wear
• learned about Body Glide

• wrote 95 blog posts
• received over 40 comments
  
• asked a million questions
• run with 23 other runners
  
• received extensive advice
• read the book twice
  

• run the course:
• Embarcadero 17 times
  
• Fort Mason Hill 12 times
  
• Marina Green 11 times
• Crissy Field 10 times
• Golden Gate Bridge 2 times
• Lincoln Hill 2 times
• Route to the park 2 times
• JFK Drive countless times
• MLK Drive countless times
• Middle Drive countless times
  
• Transverse Drive countless times
• Stow Lake Loop 3 times
• Haight - Mission - Potrero - Dogpatch - Ballpark 2 times

• registered for the race
• worked out a goal
• created a pace chart
• created a pacing band
  

• broke in a new pair of shoes, putting 80 miles on them
  
• woke up before 6 am just about every day for three weeks
• drank lots and lots of water this week
• worked out a disposable water bottle and handle for the first part of the race
  
• carbo loaded

• slept in today
• spent much of the day on the couch
  
• went to the Race Expo with my brother (who is running too!)
  
• picked up my bib
• picked up my timing chip
• pinned my bib to my singlet
• attached the timing chip to my shoe
• set aside everything I need for the race
  

All that, and probably more. Much obsessiveness, much effort, and much preparation. I don't recall preparing this much for anything, really, so this is all I have to say:

I'm ready.

One last dance

Today's run: Recovery run of 5 miles at 9:08 pace, including 6x100 m strides
18 miles this week, pre-race. Marathon is 2 days from today!

Today was the last run I'll do before the race! It really feels like I haven't run much at all this week, but in fact, this is about as much running as I used to do before I started gearing up to train for this marathon.

The 1 and 2/3 Mission Loops today seemed inconsequential. The only things of note were:

• I had a little more trouble than usual keeping my heart rate in check,
  
• I tested a disposable bottle with makeshift handle, per Mike's suggestion, and
• The weather in the Mission was all of these things:
• Cloudy
• Foggy
• Windy
• Sunny
  

Weather on race day still seems ideal, if maybe a bit humid.

When it came time to do the strides (I remembered to do them this time), I tried to keep the pace moderate, but make sure it was faster than what I'd run in the marathon. I got the arms up and the legs up. I felt little twinges in various places that I hadn't felt during the previous 4 plus miles.

Well, back to eating more carbohydrates!

• • •

"Watch" me run!

Apparently, you'll be able to get live web updates while I'm running (note: my start time is 5:35 am).

Of course, if you live in or near the City, you can use the course map to stake out a place to watch. The course is known for not having enough spectators, so anyone who shows up to cheer will be appreciated by everyone.

To look out for me, roughly estimate the time I'll be there at 7.75 minutes per mile, starting at 5:35 am. Example: by that method, I'd be at the 20 mile mark, Haight and Divisidero, at 8:10 am. Of course, you'd want to get there earlier in case I'm ahead of pace. I imagine it would be frustrating to get there moments after I've gone by, strain yourself watching for me, and never be sure if you missed me or if I'm yet to arrive.

High School Cross Country Memories

Marathon is 3 days from today!

Gonna start Carbo-loading today!

• • •

Since the last time I took running this seriously was when I was running High School Cross Country, I've been thinking about those days more and more lately.

Cross Country, a Fall sport, was considered a distance event in high school, as it was three miles over unpredictable terrain while the longest Track race was the two mile. Until 2004 when I first ran the Bay to Breakers 12K (that race where people dress up in funny clothes and 60,000 run/walk across the City), I had never run a race longer than 5K. The following Fall I ran my first 10K in the Run to the Far Side (another race that features costumes – hmm...). I could tell my body remembered Cross Country races well, because my pacing in the 10K was absolutely horrible: 6:35/mile over the first two miles, 7:08 over the last 4.2.

(A Marathon is a completely different thing altogether. I guess there's something to going 8 and half times as far.... If I ran any mile under 7:15, it'd be suicide.)

One thing that has me thinking about it is that the two people I've been leaning on most for marathon advice (Mike and Thomas) were basically non-runners before they chose the insanity of marathons.

Things I remember from Cross Country in High School:

• Water – I never really drank (or ate) before or during a race. It was a short race!
  
• Machismo – Cross Country was in the same season as Football, so one had to consider toughness. "Oh yeah, today's run is nine miles, and features 3 miles uphill to Mulholland Drive..."
  
• Competition (amongst teammates, even) – If you were on the Varsity and you ran slower than a guy in the JV race, you were dropped to JV until you regained your spot.
  
• Youth and split times – In those days, young enough, fast enough, I ran below 6:00/mile in races all the time, with a PR around 5:40.
  
• Summer prep – My tactic for making the Varsity team was to get in shape early by running 20 to 30 miles a week during the summer, while my teammates didn't start running until just before the school year.
  
• My brother – The first year I ran all summer long, my brother ran with me, and it propelled him to make the Varsity for his senior year.
  
• My father – Always interested in sports and his sons, my dad attended just about every race (home and away), and typically helped with timing the 1 mile split.

• • •

With the race coming soon, one Cross Country race in particular comes to mind. My Junior Year, I had broken onto the Varsity, and projected to run 6th or 7th for our team. I had such a horrible race one time that I got bumped back to Junior Varsity. In this race, I knew I had to run faster than the last guy on the Varsity (who had yet to run their race). The biggest problem would be that I might not have anyone to guide my pace against, so I'd be running against the clock, while the guy I was hoping to beat could be dragged along by all the faster runners in the Varsity race.

At the start of my race, I was surprised to find one small kid who was really fast out of the gate. He seemed a bit too young, and our opponent was not known to have a fast team. I immediately assumed he was a rabbit (an unflattering term applied to someone who goes out too quickly, assumed to be a tactic to throw the pace off of unsuspecting opponents so his teammates can run a smarter race and win). But his pace didn't seem too fast for me, so I kept with him.

Sure enough, within a mile, he started to flag. We were significantly ahead of the rest of the runners at this point, and as I continued, the rabbit fell back. I was alone. Me against the clock.

I saw no one else for the rest of the race. I may have glanced back to see no one behind me, but since I was running against a clock, I just needed to keep my head down and move it.

I won the race by a lot, and never saw the rabbit finish. I also had a better time than the 7th place Varsity runner, so I earned back my spot with that race.

The picture here is actually from that race. It is one of the few pictures I have of me running back then, taken by a photographer for the school newspaper (which is why it is in black and white).

Four days to go

Today's run: 6 miles of General Aerobic at 8:20 pace, including 2 miles at Marathon Goal Pace
Marathon is 4 days from today!

I woke up earlier today and got the Mission before there was much traffic, and this was good because I needed to put in two miles at a Marathon Goal Pace, and I didn't want to have to wait for traffic lights or cars at busier intersections.

There are several purposes to today's run:

• Remind yourself of what goal pace feels like
• Prevent the legs from losing all speed during the taper
• Get the miles in
  

There was a nice fog this morning and a bit of a cool breeze, though I realized it was humid. I wore a singlet in order to see what it would be like to run in a cooler temperature without sleeves, as I will be doing on the marathon. In fact, the book calls this the Dress Rehearsal, and I was supposed to wear exactly what I am going to wear for the race. I did that for Sunday's long run, so I'm not worried.

The six miles today would be comprised of two Mission Loops (yesterday's run, exactly). I decided to find a two mile section that would avoid stoplights, so I measured out a section that starts at 24th Street heading South on Harrison, loops around Florida Street, and then ends just after turning South again on Harrison near the Best Buy.

On my way out, warming up, I felt some miscellaneous pains, but didn't feel sluggish. Florida Street was quiet, and I tried to take note of the split markers I had mapped out, as the next time through I would be timing myself more precisely. I also noted that I was going faster than I usually would on this route, largely because I usually do recovery runs here.

After a little more than 2 miles, I reached 24th Street on Harrision, hit the split button on Mike's watch (he has generously loaned this to me since my watch doesn't do splits), and picked up the pace a bit. Noting that I am not so good at knowing pace, I had figured out where half mile splits were. When I reached 0.5 miles, I was behind the 3:52 desired half-mile pace by 12 seconds, so I picked it up a bit. I tried to store in my brain the kind of leg turnover, the kind of breathing, the feel of the pace.

I reached the mile split at 7:48 for the mile, so I had balanced that mile out (3:43 for the half-mile) and missed my 7:45 target by just a few seconds. I reached the next half-mile split in a near perfect 3:51, and completed the second mile a little fast, at 7:40 (3:49 for the half-mile split). Average over the two miles: 7:44, just right.

Overall, I felt like I would get used to this pace during the race, and sometimes need to work pretty hard to maintain it. But I think that's what this is all about. It wouldn't be a marathon if it was second nature.

One run left before the big one. Expect a couple non-run posts, though.

The race cometh...

Today's run: Recovery run of 6 miles at 9:00 pace
Marathon is 5 days from today!

I am a bit nervous about the race already. I've been thinking about pace-bands, carbo-loading, and getting enough sleep (versus adjusting my internal clock). However, this kind of preoccupation is a good way for me to distract myself from the real issue: how the hell am I going to run 26.2 miles at the pace I wish?!

Today, I ran two Mission Loops. I re-measured them afterwards in order to prepare for tomorrow's paced run, and I found out that a single loop is 1.15 miles, not 1.05 miles, so my pace on those runs have been a bit faster than I previously thought. Today's pace was a little on the fast side, thereby pointing further to the divergence between perceptions and measurement:

• I felt a little sluggish, at least at first
• From time to time, I had to slow down to a crawl to keep the heart rate monitor in check
• I didn't feel like I had any burgeoning energy that might start to show up in my taper mesocycle

What is becoming clear (over the past two runs) is that I can start my run fairly slow and a little sluggish, but I later perceive that I am "warming up", since I can start to feel better and the miles just melt away. Today, two Mission Loops in recovery mode never felt so fast. Part of it was that I completely preoccupied myself by thinking about a presentation I'm giving on Thursday, so much so that I forgot to do the strides I had intended to do (make-up from Friday's run).

Update: The weather for the race no longer has a forecast of rain. "Mainly sunny. Highs in the low 60s and lows in the mid 50s." The only thing I could ask for is something much lower than the forecasted 87% humidity, but if it really doesn't warm up to 70 when I reach the Mission, it'll be ideal conditions for this race.

As Seen in Sideways

Today's run: Medium-Long Run of 10 miles at 8:43 pace
29 miles this week. Marathon is 1 week from today!

Spending the weekend in Santa Ynez Valley, stationed in Solvang, has the advantage of being close to the wine country lovingly depicted by the 2004 movie, Sideways. Those who have seen the movie may recall the Hitching Post, the restaurant where Miles meets Maya. We saw this restaurant while driving to a winery yesterday.

This morning, I was running by 6:00am, just about 10 minutes after the sun came up. I took the road out of Solvang and headed North along Alamo Pintado Road. The reward was a stunning sunrise display over the near hills, a parade of ranches, farms, and wineries (including a place where they were raising minature horses).

At one marker along the road, I saw a memorial for a young man who, riding his twin brother's motorcycle, laid it down and died in the process. I knew this only because a man I met the night before mentioned the story, explaining that when the brother bought the motorcycle, he had implored his twin to learn how to ride it because he knew that he would one day choose to ride the motorcycle. He didn't learn how, he did ride the bike, and he died.

This road was nice and quiet. Very few cars at all. One farm had some early morning activity on it, probably very wise because the heat we are expecting later today will top 90 degrees, easily. However, the morning was cool.

The slope of the road on the way out was deceptive. I knew from having plotted the route that it was largely uphill on the way out, but to the eye, it appears flat. Only when realizing that the effort required to transverse the stretch of road seemed a bit much for the pace (and a quick glance at the heart rate) did I recall that I was heading uphill.

Not long before I reached my turnaround point, I saw a sign for the Blackjack Ranch, a winery. A small green sign had been tacked on that read "As seen in Sideways". I looked up a bit and thought I recognized the building as the place where they met Stephanie (where Stephanie, played by Sandra Oh, flirts with Jack).

On the way back, it was refreshing to take a route that is mostly downhill. Usually, it seems that the way back includes more challenges than relief. Today, the quietness of the road, the beauty of the scenery, and the view of the Santa Ynez Mountains made the return on this out-and-back enjoyable.

Pulling back into the kitchy town of Solvang, I felt like I was getting going. However, as part of tapering, this run was limited to 10 miles. I won't run more than this again until marathon day!

• • •

By the way, United can blow me. My scheduled return flight was cancelled, and they didn't call to tell me. They made me change airports to get on a flight three hours later, and then that flight was delayed by over an hour (perhaps more: I haven't left LAX yet!). If you need to fly anywhere within the state of California, don't bother with United. This would never be so bad on Southwest.

Still a taperin'

Today's run: Recovery run of 4 miles at 9:39 pace

Rotating the clock is harder than it seems. I woke up at 5:30 today, the time the marathon will start, and got my run in before work (on time to my 8am meeting, no less!) Just the same, I have a hard time getting to bed early, and I do need the rest.

This morning, I found the streets in the Mission nice and quiet. Running up Florida Street, there were almost no cars at all. Coming back down Harrison, fairly quiet as well.

As I reached the second mile, I had warmed up but I still felt a bit sluggish. I had been debating between going for 5 miles or going for 4, a small but first decision in settling the how much to taper question. I decided to do just 4 miles, thinking that I want to get enough rest in my legs before the big day. (I have already decided to cut Sunday's run from 12 to 10 miles, so this week will be 29 miles instead of the schedule's 32).

Up and back along Alabama, I took note of the several murals at Alabama and 24th Street, which feature a warrior with head-garb with a fainting woman. Both are depicted as if they'd be part of an action film today. I think they must be depicting the Aztec legend of lovers Popocatépetl and Iztaccihuatli.

Towards the end, I thought I had remembered something about strides, but thought they were part of next week's run. Ooops. I should have done the strides today, too. Maybe I'll do them as part of Tuesday's run. On the one hand, I have Mike's advice not to overdo anything, so not doing the strides seems okay. On the other hand, I have Thomas' advisement that what people lose during the Taper mesocycle is speed (and Mike also did say to focus on the right level of intensity).

• • •

I apologize: I've turned on word-verification for comments, meaning you'll need to type in a word that's hard to see, designed to foil bots. I came back to my computer yesterday to find 30 messages prompted by comments that had embedded links to advertising sites.

DWR: Drinking While Running

Today's run: 4.3 miles of Warm Up at 8:47 pace and VO2 Max workout of 3 x 1,600 m

I am in the third lap of my first 1600m run, trying to gain time since I am behind pace, and I as approach the turn, I notice a line of children and one adult walking towards me, on the track, side by side. Soon enough, the little girl on the end, perhaps eight years old, eclipses the first lane, so they are effectively blocking the first four lanes of the track on the bend of the track. At this point, I notice the girl has a cell-phone pressed to her ear.

Hey. Hey! HEY!

She finally looks up and steps aside at the last moment. The adult, presumably the girl's mother, shouts at me: "That's my daughter you're talking to!" Perhaps unadvisedly, I shout back: "She's walking on the track, the wrong way!"

I found myself thinking indignantly through the rest of my laps. This was aided further by a little boy (who must have been one of the four children) heckling me: mimicking me by saying "Hey Hey Hey" when I run by (in a fake low voice), yelling at me to slow down, and yelling at me that I wasn't running in the right direction. I remember thinking mostly about the response of the adult there, who chose to defend her child instead of correcting her child's oblivious behavior. I came to realize that her perspective was that I raised my voice at her child, I was running fast, I am an adult, and therefore she needed to protect her child from me. I knew that there was no point in asking her any of the following questions:

• How is yelling "hey" offensive?
• Why didn't you notice me, either?
• Would you let your child wander into a street like that and then yell at a car that honked?
• How is it that you come to a track and don't expect to find people running on it?
  
• What did you think I should have done instead?

This was a banner afternoon at the track, since earlier, there was a little girl who was playing on the infield who then cut perpendicularly in front of me, moments before I came upon her. (She was asked by her older friend why she would cut in front of someone running like that). The same little girl was later running in lane 1 while I was doing my 1600m repeats and stopped cold to tie her shoe about two seconds before I came upon her.

• • •

The reason this post is titled "DWR" is that, since I had a track workout to do, I decided to do my warmup miles on the track in order to practice drinking. Drinking not from a bottle, but from cups. I looked at my schedule and saw that there was really no chance left for me to do this, so instead of running 4 miles in the park, I lined up some 9 ounce Dixie cups, filled half-way with water, and placed them on a bench adjacent to the track. As I did the 17 laps of warm up, I periodically swung wide, grabbed a cup, pinched it closed in the middle (spilling some water in the process), and tried to drink. I figure that the most water I was able to get in my mouth on any given cup was about 2 ounces. There are 12 water stations on the course, so that works out to 24 ounces of water, unless I stop at a water station to drink water. Will 24 ounces be enough? I hate stopping when running.

I think I got the hang of it. I only choked a little on the fourth one. I just hope, at the water stations, they use nothing smaller than a 9 ounce cup!

• • •

The 1600m repeats were pretty challenging. The idea was to do them all at the same pace I've done all the previous track repeats, about 96 seconds per lap. In between each repeat, I was to jog for 2 minutes. Two minutes have never passed so quickly in my life. After the first repeat, I was breathing heavily on the last lap, and my breath wasn't back to normal when the two minutes were up. With only one lap into the second repeat, I was breathing hard. I was breathing hard almost the entire way through the third repeat, which showed signs that I was reaching some sort of limit, and represents the first time in any of these track workouts where I ran an interval slower than the target pace. My splits, given a target of 6:24:

• 6:14
• 6:22
• 6:33

So I averaged the target time, which I guess means that the estimate for a 5K wasn't too far off. Three 1600s is just 200m short of 5K, and it looks like, after a 4 mile warm up on a warm day, I wouldn't have been able to continuously keep a 6:24 pace for 3.1 miles. Interesting!

This was the last difficult run before the marathon.

• • •

Happy Birthday, Galen! May this be a great year for you!

How much to taper?

Today's run: 7 miles of General Aerobic at 8:33 pace, including 8 x 100m strides.

Since Sunday's run, when Galen relayed opinions from himself and others that the Pftizinger Schedule includes too much running during the Taper mesocycle, I've been trying to decide whose advice to follow.

My schedule would have me do 32 miles this week, then 22 miles the following (on the six days prior to the marathon).

• Thomas: Pfitzinger has gotten me this far, only pare it back to 30 & 18 for my specific situation.
• Mike: Owen had previously advised maintaining intensity, but not overdoing the miles, so pare it back to 27 & 12

The specifics of the recommendations vary a bit, too. But in any case, I'm thinking at this point that I'll come closer to Thomas' recommendations, but pare it back by a mile or two here and there.

• • •

Today's run was along the Embarcadero - Fisherman's Warf - Fort Mason route, but not as far as the Marina Green since the distance this week does cut back considerably no matter whose advice I follow. Reportedly, it was as hot as 82 degrees this afternoon, but by the time I got outside, I sure didn't feel it. I faced a headwind on the way out that got progressively cooler and stronger as I got closer to Aquatic Park. Of course, when I turned around and headed back, I had the wind at my back and the afternoon's warmth was a bit more prevalent.

I initially felt a bit sluggish: as if I had had too much food too recently. So I'm a bit surprised at my pace. Looking back, however, I've noted the most often when running on the Embarcadero, my paces tend to be even quicker, probably due to how flat the route is (and despite the ever-present need to dodge pedestrians and cyclists).

The strides at the end felt pretty good. I did them at a faster pace than I've been doing the track workouts, and it has been a while since I've done strides there (it's easier there than in the Mission).

Getting to know all about you

Today's run: Medium-Long Run of 16 miles at 8:25 pace
42 miles this week. Marathon is 2 weeks from today!

Before all this marathon training, I had never before run 16 miles at once. I've previously discussed the circumstance of this weekend: a 10K Saturday and then a run of some distance the next day. Would it finally be as Thomas had described? Let's see.

I took this opportunity to see the end of the course again, but this time, following Thomas' advice, running in the reverse direction. Actually, it was an out and back. I arranged to start at the same place as last week, run the end of the course but choosing the alternates this time, and then run back the main route. The theory is that, on fresher legs, it is harder to perceive the downhills (and hence be prepared for the oppressive effect they have on your legs when fatigued) than you would an uphill. Hence, running up a hill you will be racing down, you gain perspective.

[Alternates, you might ask? The San Francisco Marathon is apparently not significant enough to the City to make residents deal with the fact that a marathon is coming down their street, even at 5:30am to, say 11:30am on a Sunday. Hence, the course alternates at certain points to allow residents vehicular access in and out of their garages that morning. In some places, that makes a less desirable route than others. These alternates are shown with dotted lines on the course map.]


Arriving at Stanyan and Haight this morning before 7am, I first saw Galen, which was a total shock. All week long Galen had been saying he wasn't going to join this Sunday, as this part of the course is all concrete (and hard on the legs), and not particularly scenic. Nonetheless, he was there, apparently guilted into it by various K-Stars the day before. Also joining in the fun: Zach, who explained he was likely to run only half of our run, Meredith, who had limited time before she had to get to work, and Chris.

We started out with a back and forth pace: a little fast, noticing the pace and slowing down, then sliding back up again. We chatted amiably, which felt loud as we reached more residential streets where we were the only people or cars on it. After a half-hour, Meredith turned back so she would have time to get to work. At the half-way point, Zach left us to return via Muni. Chris, Galen and I kept together the rest of the way back.

Some observations from this week's preview:

• On the way back, we were able to appreciate just how long and steep the downhill section of Haight is. There are two very steep blocks, but there is one downhill block ahead of it, and two downhill blocks after it. Galen says that legs should still be fresh enough at that point to absorb the downhill impact and gain some speed there.
  
• The alternate that takes Waller instead of Haight seems about equivalent, happening after the downhills cease. It may appear that the small uphills towards the end are more visible than when on Haight, but they don't seem too different.
• At the intersection of Buchanan and Hermann, either way down is going to be painful (main route or alternate). At that intersection, you look down steeply to Market no matter which way. On the way back today, coming up that hill reinforced just how steep it is.
  
• Going South on Guerrero is a little bit downhill, but it really makes no difference cutting across 16th or cutting across the alternate, 15th Street, except for the surprise of the uphill that starts at Harrison. Knowing that the hill is there makes the two routes okay. On second thought, 16th Street is a nicer street, aesthetically-speaking.
• On the way back, I detected that 16th Street is actually heading a bit downhill in the race-direction, but probably not enough to notice.
  
• Cutting over on Florida Street to 17th Street is one alternate I'd rather not take: Florida heads a bit downhill at that point, and then 17th takes you back uphill. So instead of a three block hill from Harrison to Bryant along 16th, you'd get two blocks up, one down, and one up. Not necessary!
• There's a slight downhill after crossing under 101. This is the point where the course has no more uphills, is largely flat, and starts to get really ugly, scenery-wise.
• Turning North on Illinois starts to provide a nice view, if one looks in the distance. The ballpark and the Bay Bridge come into view, and stay largely in view until you reach the ballpark, at which point, there's only one mile left, and the route is pretty open and scenic.

The run this morning was pretty good! The weather was not too warm, my legs felt fine just about the whole way, and the company was great (as usual, and the conversation turned a bit raunchy when it was just me, Chris and Galen on the way back). Towards the end, Galen started to pull away a little bit, in order to finish strong, and Chris and I gained some ground on the uphill of Haight, and nearly caught up at the finish.

This is the longest run I had left before the race! Tapering begins in earnest.

Well, they did call it the Skyland Mountain Run

Today's runs: Warm up. 10k Race. Cool down.

Today was the final "tune-up race" before the marathon. I found exactly one race on a Saturday out of the three that the schedule calls for, and this was it: the Skyland Mountain Run, sponsored by the Skyland Community Church.

The more I think about it, the more I feel that the schedule is designed to make this race a fabulous success for the marathon trainer, to give them a great boost. Though this comes just six days after a long run, the previous five have been very, very easy: nothing unusual, two recovery runs, low miles.

The thing about any race, however, is that to use the most objective measure (one's time), one must be comparing that time to similar circumstances. Ideally, this race would have been in San Francisco where it is cool, and on a pretty flat course, just like the other 10k's I've run so far. Ideally, I would have seen an improvement, a Personal Record today. This race was not for that: it was warm, and run on a windy mountain road. One thing I know is windy mountain roads, and they are never flat. It is either up or down, but not flat.

Along the route to Santa Cruz is Summit Road. Take Summit Road about 5 miles East and you'll reach Radonich Ranch, the starting point of the race. The race then follows the twisty mountain road for 5km, turns around, and heads back.


I had called in advance and found out that the distance was to be marked off in kilometers. This would have the advantage of more frequent feedback on how much distance has been covered (1km=0.62mi), but the disadvantage similar to someone telling you your weight in kilograms (unless you were raised outside of the U.S., where metric is king). Regardless, I prepared a pace-band that I could wear around my wrist and refer to at the kilometer-markers to get a sense of if I was meeting my goals for pacing myself. In particular, I wanted to start slow, something I have struggled to do in each race so far.

At the start, I noticed that a lot of kids were in the race. I mean young kids, not just teenagers. I lined up in the middle of the front of the pack so that I wouldn't get tempted to stay with the 5K racers who would set too speedy a pace for me.


At the start, I thought I was doing a good job of not going out too fast. I noticed my breathing, but my strides were very easy.


Still, at the 1km mark, I noted a time of 4:00, 15 seconds ahead of my pace (this, it turns out, was like running at 6:26/mile instead of 6:50). I knew I had to slow it down, and felt fortunate to get that feedback sooner. Still, at 2km, I was ahead of pace, and here I come to two realizations important for the marathon:

• First: If I am ahead of pace, I should not attempt to go slower than pace in order to catch up. I should just get on pace, meaning that at my next marker, I would maintain the same amount of time ahead, roughly.
• Second: If I can get feedback earlier, I should. Hence, I will take note of a bunch of markers along the first couple of miles of the marathon course and carry a small piece of paper with splits within the first two miles. I'm thinking .25 mi, .5mi, .75mi, and 1.5 mi.

After the 2km mark, I started to see the lead 5K-ers heading back, at what appeared to be a breakneck pace. At 2.5km, the turnaround for the 5K, there was a water station. I grabbed a cup which was both too small and too full, squashed it at the middle (proper technique), but then had a hard time getting the water to come out slowly. I choked a little, but got some of the water down. In a race like this, water isn't really going to make a difference: I was doing this entirely to practice for the marathon.

Now, with the 5K racers gone, the route was pretty empty. I took note of a curly-headed tall kid in front of me, and stuck with him. I started to note that, between 3km and 4km, the path was heading uphill. It was hard to maintain pace, and sure enough, at the 4km marker, I was significantly behind my desired pace. The hill had made a difference.

Before the turnaround at 5km, I started to see the lead 10K runners who had reached that point and were heading back. I counted: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... The curly haired kid was #6, leaving me#7. At the turnaround, there was another water table, and I lost some time because they wanted me to run counter-clockwise around the cone (even though the turnaround on the 5K was clockwise). I took another cup of water, choked again on the first sip, but this time got the rest of the water down. Improvement.

I tried my best to trail the curly headed kid, but I wasn't gaining ground on him, nor my desired pace. I started to be reminded of my high school cross country days: mountain road, shade and sun, warm, and me being tested on what I had left.

From the 6km mark (the 4km mark coming back), I noticed the downhill and started lengthening my stride and trying to pick up ground. I was moving faster, but not gaining on the kid. At 7km. I was well behind my pace, and I was finding it harder to summon the speed I wanted to.

Passing the 5K turnaround point again (7.5km), I started to notice more people from the 5K race (walkers, really), and now had to dodge a handful of people walking. One set of ladies were walking four-across, and as I slipped narrowly past the shoulder of one of them, she was surprised and joked with her friends that I had been drafting on her. I really wanted them to take note that there was an actual race going on, though.

Somewhere in the 8th km, I had to work my way around a car or two (they hadn't completely closed the road). I started to lose sight of the curly headed kid around corners. I was breathing hard, my heart was racing, and I was trying to bring it in strong like I did in the Freedom Road 10K, but the difference here was the course: the winding up and down of the route made it harder.

As I neared the finish, a quick turn onto a gravel driveway of the ranch, I had to contend with another car that they had allowed to enter just at the wrong moment. I went around, and raced to the finish.



My time was 42:55.9, and I came in seventh place.

• • •

So, it wasn't a PR, and it wasn't a fast course, and though I was ready to put in a good race, I can't look at that time, 55 seconds slower than the last 10K, and really compare the two. I'm also beginning to feel that the 10K is a completely different kind of running than what I am preparing for: it is faster than my Lactate Threshold pace, and has considerable challenges associated with maintaining that speed.

I have no doubt that I am now a stronger runner than I was back in March. My legs didn't feel bad at all today (just a few moments of my left knee flashing, early). And I am beginning to feel the taper-effect: shortly after my cool down run, I was feeling like I needed to put in another 6 or 8 miles later in the day. My body seems to be sending me signals already that it wants to run more and more, and that will come in handy on the day of the marathon.

Many thanks to my wife for getting up early with me, making the long drive, taking pictures and providing support.

16 times around

Today's run: Recovery run of 4 miles at 8:37 pace, including 6 x 100m strides.

Two recovery runs in a row. That's a first.

I pondered Galen's comment about my lower leg pains and the surface I was running upon, and came up with a pretty lousy answer to the question: where can I run 4 miles with a softer surface than the streets of the Mission, without hills, and without having to go too far. The only answer that was midway convenient: the track.

I haven't run basic miles around a track since I was in high school, and used the high school track after dark as a safe way to get in the miles. Then, as now, I used music to get me through it, though now, the music device is small and light enough that I can't even tell I'm wearing it. The tunes keep me distracted. Before I knew it, it was time to do the strides, and this time I had a fair sense of what 100m actually is. Still, I don't have a good sense of what I'm doing when I'm doing the strides.

The strange part about this was the pace. Maybe that track is considerably shorter than 400 meters around (since, even running in the 5th lane, my pace was much faster with a reasonably low heart-beat than most other recovery runs). Maybe it is just plain easier to run on a track than around the Mission — there certainly aren't any hills.

All in all, it didn't take me too much extra time to visit the track, and it felt like the surface was somewhat softer than concrete, so I guess I made out okay.

• • •

Two other things of note:

• Tomorrow I will run my last tune-up race. I actually found a 10k that fits right into the schedule where it belongs, and this week of light running, part to recover from the big Sunday run, should put me ready to run well. I just have to get up early to get down there: the race is 60 miles away.
• Speaking of getting up early: since the marathon starts at 5:30am, I am slowly trying to adapt my waking hours so that the week before the race, I'm routinely getting up at 5:00am. So far this week, the alarm has slid down from 7:00am to 6:30am.
  

Ho hum.

Today's run: Recovery run of 5 miles at 9:22 pace

Another boring set of miles through the Mission. Sunny but very windy. Only two things of note:

• My lower legs hurt. This is a new and mysterious pain for me, as it is neither my shins nor my calves. It is the muscles on the outside of my lower legs, both sides, and it hurts when I turn my foot in a certain way. Walking, running, sitting down and spinning my feet, it can hurt. It started late on Monday and still hurts now.
• I finally looked up a business on Harrison Street that I have seen on every Mission Loops run: JCX Expendables. I hadn't the vaguest notion of what kind of business it was, but today I saw someone exit the place carrying a large white circular object that seemed like it was made of some sort of fabric. Turns out, they provide services and products to the film industry. Who knew?
  

The Taper mesocycle: starts with a track workout?

Today's run: 5.6 miles of Warm Up at 8:45 pace and VO2 Max workout of 5 x 600 m

After Sunday's Long Run, the last Long Run in the schedule, the official Taper mesocycle begins.

I was fortunate to have lunch with Thomas today, as he is always a font of knowledge about these things. He mentioned right away that one thing people don't expect about the tapering period is that one doesn't feel particularly good or strong through it, and people often think (falsely) that feeling that way is an indicator that they aren't ready. Keeping that in mind during these next three weeks will be a good thing.

Thomas had also previously helped me rearrange the schedule of the last two weeks so that I could run that 10k on the fourth, and by through those rearrangements I wound up with today's track workout being the same as Friday's track workout (the one where I ran through the peak of this cold I'm kicking). Having the track workout today and just five miles tomorrow made us think that perhaps I should do the track workout tomorrow and just the five miles today.

I had arranged much of my day to accommodate this track workout, and I also realized that perhaps this week was designed as a mini-taper to make Saturday's final pre-race tune-up 10K the best possible. Tomorrow is a 5 mile recovery run, Thursday is off, Friday is a 4 mile recovery run with strides, and then Saturday's 10k. Just 17 total miles in these four days, where the average I've done for the past five weeks in the same Tuesday through Friday has been 27 miles. So I went to the track today instead of tomorrow.

• • •

I did my usual out-and-back through the park on MLK, and for a moment on the way back, as the uphill started, I felt pretty out of energy. Strangely, within a minute, I was distracted and I felt like I was going faster and without much effort. True enough, my average heart rate for this 8:45/mile run was 140 bpm, pretty low, and 10 bpm lower than last Friday's same run. My cold is almost gone now.

At the track, since I was there much later than I have been before, I found floods of people. I had to be careful about how to work into the stream of runners, and got caught up in my first jogging period by the pace of others (too fast).

Splits (all under the 2:24 target):

• 2:20
• 2:21
• 2:18
• 2:19
• 2:15 (on this one, my nose ran messily)
  

Pretty similar to all the other weeks, but didn't feel particularly tough. I again thought about letting it out on the last one, and then remembered Thomas' warning from earlier today about how it is in this period of time that one is most susceptible to injury. Still, the last one was fastest.


For the stat-heads: the average of all these 600 meter times is 2:19 with a standard deviation of 3 seconds, meaning I was 1.6 standard deviations below the target time of 2:24.

Almost all of it.

Today's run: Long Run of 22.4 miles at 8:43 pace
52 miles this week. Marathon is 3 weeks from today!

Galen was right.

Today's run proved Galen to be right about the end of the San Francisco Marathon Course: it is unattractive and has random hills that will feel pretty difficult at the end of the race.

But first: longest run ever! I haven't been able to say that in four weeks.

Six of us assembled for the overly long run at the bright and early hour of 7am. The time was chosen primarily to allow us to run smoothly through the final, previously unseen 6.5 miles of the course which is run entirely on regular city streets. At any other time of day, the streets would be overrun by cars, but at 7am we had these streets practically to ourselves.


(At this point, you might wish to pull up the .pdf course map and follow along from West of the 20 mile mark, where the route exits the park).

Haight
Haight Street is known for it's colorful character (and characters). One such character approached me after I was reviewing the course map with Galen, Ari and Matt (but while I was alone, Galen having gone with Matt to put some stuff in Matt's car, and Ari visiting a bathroom). The character asked me if we were taking part in a scavenger hunt. When I explained that we were about to run 22 miles, he eyed my knee sleeve and expressed concern, asking if I could bend my knee. I reassured him.

Reassembled, and with the arrival of Chris and Kevin, we embarked. Six of us! Ari had run his longest ever last week (16 or so), so this was particularly ambitious for him.

Haight starts out relatively flat, then heads rapidly downhill for the two blocks I flew down at the end of the 20 miler. It flattens again, but takes a slight incline for a block or two before shuffling strongly downhill for the turn at Buchannan. That incline may be painful after 20 miles in the race. (Here, we took the main route only-- the dotted lines on the course map show alternates that are used to keep traffic flowing.)

A short block on Hermann brought us to Market Street, which we were able to cross without pausing, first evidence that my 7am-Sunday strategy was paying off. It is a shame that the course doesn't run along Market Street for a mile or so: Market is a wide boulevard that captures essential essences of the City, but we only catch a glimpse here.

Mission - Potrero - SoMa Downhill down Guerrero, a few blocks and we reach 16th Street, bypassing the alternate route of 15th Street. Galen pointed out, as we turned the corner and viewed the hill in the distance, that those directed down 15th street get surprised by the hill, as the alternate rejoins with a left-hand turn that takes you immediately up the fairly significant two-block hill along 16th from Harrison to Florida. Harrison to Florida? Those streets sound familiar? If they do, it is because my Mission Loops route crosses 16th Street on Florida and again on Harrison, but does not see this hill (Florida inclines very subtly and then drops suddenly North of 16th).

Continuing on 16th, we pass by Sports Basement. Galen assured me that no one would be cheering from the Sports Basement location, and it is as this point that the route becomes truly barren: industrial, vacant, empty. It seems too true that no one will be found watching here, and at this point, 22 miles into the race, a little encouragement could be useful.

In fact, a little water could be useful, too. This part of town on this particular morning, about an hour earlier than when I'll be there in the race, was warm. My shirt, which I thought was light enough, was soaked down the back in sweat. I will need to pay heed to Thomas' comment (ttj) that I need a singlet (I'll start shopping for one tomorrow).

I think at this point, the course basically flattens out. Ziz-zag down to 17th, zig-zag down to Mariposa, a box through Dogpatch, and the route starts looking towards PhoneCompany Park. However, most of this stretch is even more barren, and includes a fair bit of construction adjacent to the route. At one point, you see the ballpark, and then the route veers off Illinois and takes the ballpark out of view. However, when you get to the end of Terry A. Francois, you can see the path behind the ballpark that lies ahead (perpendicular to you), and Galen mentioned how the sight of runners on that path ahead can be encouraging.

Behind the ballpark and around to the Embarcadero and we find ourselves on more familiar grounds. In fact, the breeze off the bay cooled us down quickly, and was quite welcome. At this point, we started chiding Ari on the pace (he tends to want to go faster), as we were not even 7 miles in and ahead of our desired 8:45-9:00/mile pace.

(The Pace)
We faced a mixed blessing in terms of pace. On the one-hand, going faster might feel good psychologically: if I can run so much of the course on a non-race day at 8:30, I should be easily able to surpass that on the day of the marathon. However, there is a well-known strategy of doing at least one run that takes as long as your marathon day race will be, in order to ready your body for the sensation of running for that much time. So if we kept a pace of 9:00/mile, we'd spend 3 hours and 21 minutes on this run, close to my goal time.

Embarcadero - Warf - Marina - Crissy Field
We reached Fisherman's Warf without incident, more or less. I thought I recognized a gal who was walking along in the same direction, so upon passing her, I took a look back and realized, no, that's not Aimee, and I continued along. Apparently, a couple of the other guys were looking at her too, and Kevin mentioned how she made a nasty face at him (probably because she thought we were checking her out).

At Aquatic Park, we were awash in pink. We were encountering what looked like the lead end of that day's portion of the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, with tons of people walking and hooting and hollering and wearing pink t-shirts, some with racy slogans on them. Fantastic people, as many of them cheered and encouraged us. Our route ran counter to theirs on and off until we reached the end of Crissy Field, though in between we made a fateful stop at a water fountain. I'll explain more about this later.

Presidio Off from Crissy Field, we began the hill that is Lincoln. Both Galen and Thomas, who had run the SF Marathon two years ago when the course did not include the Golden Gate Bridge, had remembered this hill asa significant challenge. When Chris and I did the first 20 four weeks ago, we didn't find this hill to be so bothersome. Today, with my cold still bothering me a bit, and my left knee starting to flash with a little pain, and having put an extra seven miles on my legs before we reached the hill, it felt harder. Additionally, the Lincoln hill is in two parts, one part before and one part after the trek back and forth across the bridge. Last time, we ran the bridge, but today's route cut out the bridge to make the route a loop close to 22 miles instead of 26.2. The result was to take the Lincoln hill in one, continuous, laborious, nose-wiping struggle.

The weather turned foggy and misty. We came across a race in progress: the Coastal Trail Challenge and Half Marathon, run by the nice folks at DSE (the same people who ran the 10K I ran in April). They were kind enough to offer water and Gatorage to us at one of their drink stations. At this point, Galen and Ari started to put some distance between themselves and the rest of us. When we exited the Presidio, they were no longer in sight.

Richmond - Golden Gate Park
We hung a left on Lake Street and started down the alternate path, since Chris and I had run the main path previously. Surprise! Hills. I recalled that along 27th Street, there was a gradual incline for a couple of blocks and then flat or downhill to the park. Along 26th Street, however, there were at least three blocks that ended with small climbs uphill. Perhaps at this point in the race it won't be a big deal, but with 15 miles already under our belts, our pace slowed going up those hills. Speaking of pace, I started doing quick calculations on our pace at this point, realizing we were awfully close to our typical 8:30/mile. Chris and Kevin agreed to slow it down some. Matt, listening to an iPod, didn't offer input.

Reaching the park, I reached into the pocket of my water bottle and discovered that my spare kleenexes were soaked. I was confused: was the mist coming through the Presidio that wet? Then it hit me: the water fountain on Crissy Field had a backed-up drain, and to get more water into my bottle, I must have dipped the bottle into the pool of water there, soaking the kleenex. And let me tell you this: a wet kleenex does not help a runny nose. I'll spare you any further details, other than to say that at the same time, my legs started to ache, creating a competition to which would be worse (the runny nose or the achy legs).

At this point, every uphill was a lot more challenging than when Chris and I had done them with fewer miles before, and I realized just what Galen had been talking about: those hills in the Mission or Potrero were going to seem a lot larger and more damaging at the end of the race.

I don't recall much of the run through the park: I've been on these roads many times. Except: I was zoned out enough to almost miss the turn onto Metson (it is an unnatural cut-back to link MLK to Middle Drive West, and truth be told, Chris caught us from going the wrong direction). Coming up Transverse, back to JFK, the hill started to punch me. Reaching the Stow Lake Loop, however, I caught a new wind. I knew we were less than two miles from the end of the run, and I started to feel like I could kick it in. Hence, the uphill portion on the second half of the Stow Lake loop didn't phase me.

However, by the time I was back on JFK and coming up to the De Young Museum, I had lost the feeling, and I was just dying to be done. Fortunately, I had a good idea of how little was left, and kept going. We found our path to the parking lot and reached the end.

Aftermath
My legs voiced complaint that I had stopped, so I had to keep walking around. I had stored a cooler with a bottle of Gatorade in it, and boy did it taste good. But even those moments fishing for things in my car caused my legs to complain. I drank the entire 32 ounce bottle over the next 20 minutes and ate a Clif Bar. During this time, we reconnected with Galen and Ari, I did a little stretching, and then parted company.

On the way home, I started to feel a bit of elation. I was still alert, my legs weren't nearly as stiff as when I first stopped, and I didn't feel like collapsing.

It is still hard to believe that the marathon itself is three weeks from today, and I am distrustful that the tapering strategy will really make this work such that I can add 4 miles and do it faster by a minute per mile! That said, bring on the Taper!

Shoe Change My schedule has about 100 miles between now and the marathon, and so I am swapping out my shoes after today's run so I have a broken in but not worn out pair of shoes. One pair of shoes in this picture has 360 miles on them, another is new. Can you tell which is which?