The Conclusion

After having some time to rest with the ideas that sprung up from my Boston Marathon experience, I feel I have a few thoughts to wrap up.

Boston
The most frequent question I've received in telling people my race story (at least, from non-marathoners) is this: how could I run for 26 miles with pain in my leg?

I answer like so: distance runners learn to distinguish between pains that will stop them and pains that will merely hurt. If I stopped running every time I felt pain in the first few miles of a run, I'd never run more than three miles -- there's always some miscellaneous pain. So I've learned to put such pains at the back of my mind and keep going. My left leg pain on race day was just another one of those early pains that I hoped would go away. It didn't, but it wasn't enough pain to stop me from running.

Meanwhile, I saw a sports-medecine doc who gave an inital diagnosis of a strained anterior tibula, ordered physical therapy and an MRI. I will run again, but I'm going to take it slowly.

To a large degree, the journey I began in 2006 ended with the 2009 Boston Marathon. While at the time I decided to run my first marathon, I had no plans beyond that one, the goal to run Boston grew out of those first months of training and the attempts to learn about how to train for and run a good marathon.

The initial goal was to run one in 3:30, and the very next goal was to drop that to 3:15 to qualify me for Boston. It wasn't a long progression, then. It was two steps.

Along the way, I rediscovered my love of distance running and developed a new love for the strength and power that comes from intense marathon training. When I think about how fast I was going at the end of Boston, or how fast I was going at the end of the Presidio 10 (the day after a 20 miler), I feel deeply powerful.

It feels strange, then, to not have another goal at this time, to feel done. True, a couple of goals seem within reach: a sub 3 hour marathon (which I could realistically achieve at CIM later this year), or qualifying for New York (which would be a stretch-- to break 2:55, but in a year, when I'm 40, would only require 3:10, or a 1:30 half-marathon, both of which I've done this year). But neither of those goals seem as large as Boston did.

And the powerful feeling I described above comes at a price. It takes time and energy that I cannot spend with my family. While not running at all would be too great a loss to my health, both physical and mental, marathon training is a whole other level.

And so, for at least a while, this is it for marathons. The insane first marathon turned into five, and now it is time to return to sanity.

- - -

Along this journey, certain people made all the difference..

The K-Stars: a great running club by virtue of it being a great collection of people. I count many new friendships from amongst the K-Stars, friendships that transcend running. Chris, Ari and Anna: I wouldn't have met you any other way, and I'm glad to count you as friends.

Mike and Thomas provided great inspiration and unofficial coaching, and I appreciate those friendships greatly. Thomas put me on the right track by pointing me to Pfitzinger, and Mike helped motivate me with cautions that I had to work hard to overcome.

Galen turned out to be far more than a running partner. His generosity extended to coming along for race support at CIM, and to a large extent, he chose to run Boston this year at my urging (and hence, we ran only two of my five marathons together, first and last). But running aside, if nothing else lasts from this marathoning binge, Galen's friendship is something I count as worth it all.

No list of people would be complete without my best supporter, my wife. Besides her schlepping around town while 6 months pregnant to cheer me at my first marathon, she continued to be understanding as I went on to run four more, often taking care of our children while I'd be off running countless miles each weekend. My trip to Boston put me away from her and our kids for five days, and I know how hard it is to manage the kids alone for one day, let alone five. She has my everlasting love.

- - -

With those thoughts now articulated, I feel this blog is nearly complete. I may open a more general blog on running, but the idea behind the pure insanity is completed.

Was it insane? In many ways, yes.

• The time spent running was significant
• the change in my lifestyle was not trivial
• the adaptation of my body was profound
• the collection of gear (shoes, clothes, backpack, bottles, GU, running bag) was expensive
• the mental discipline to run 26.2 miles five times, the last while enduring pain throughout, was pretty nutty -- I rarely even listen to an iPod while running

However, what I gained was reward enough, and that refutes the idea that it was an insane pursuit.

• The feeling of power when I was in peak shape before tapering
• The satisfaction of exceeding my goals in races (all exept the first one)
• The joy of new friendships
• The admiration of friends, family and acquaintences
• The sense of identity of being able to run like the few
• The physical benefits in terms of fitness and strength

And so, I leave this blog concluding that to train for and run marathons is not insane. It just feels that way from the outside looking in.

So join me in my next blog that will irregularly chronicle what comes next.

The Main Event (The 113th Boston Marathon)

Monday, April 20.
The race: 26.2 miles

I'm still a little stunned.

Let's just get right to it, shall we?

The Strategy

I built a paceband based upon a spreadsheet from someone with far more knowledge of the course than I, specifying a 3:08 goal, a slowish start, a fairly even effort, and a slight fade at the end. I shared this with Galen last week, and we figured we run together for the first 10 miles or so.

Race Morning

Having not slept much, I finally decided to get out of bed at 5:40. I ate some cereal and drank some grape juice, got dressed and left my hotel, munching on a banana en route to the T.

The Green Line had a constant stream of trains, and I was at Park and Tremont, in line for the busses to Hopkinton by 6:50am. Galen, Ari and Abe caught up with me about 20 minutes later, and another 20 minutes after that, we were finally on a bus. Getting 22,000 people to a starting line cannot be an easy logistics problem to solve!

The bus ride was fine until we reached a crawl with some few miles to go. Maddeningly, we went past the entrance to the Village and didn't stop. I was aching to pee, and it seemed forever before they opened the doors. Ah, the benefit of the woods.

Once inside the Village, Galen and I quickly lost track of Abe and Ari. While I sought the information booth to see if they could patch my sweats bag, Galen went to try to find a short Porta Potty Line (which is about as elusive as the unicorn that is the BAA logo). We found a spot to sit for about 15 minutes (only!) and then it was time to head towards the corral. Along the way, we had to shed our sweats, and it didn't feel at all cold in my singlet except when the breeze picked up. Galen solved this by begging a couple of plastic garbage bags from a voluteer, and we had instant warmth.

As we walked towards the starting line corrals, we wished each other great races, and Galen reassured me about my fear (calf cramps) -- that I would just gut it out as I did in Portland.

Near to the starting corrals was a final field of porta-potties. And we both waited, reaching the front of these lines with only a minute left. We hustled to reach our corral (sorted by groups of bib numbers with groups ordered by qualifying times). We entered the corral as it was already starting to move towards the starting line. And without any time to get cold or think about anything, we were across the starting line and off.

I was running the Boston Marathon.

The Start of the Race

One great thing about the Boston marathon is that there are hundreds of runners with about the same ability, and hence, even though the start was very crowded, the starting pace wasn't too slow. That said, the course took a sharp downhill turn, and didn't really feel like we'd actually started. There were lots and lots of people cheering on both sides of the road, densley packed and held back by gates. I did not feel cold at all, with temperatures in the low 40s.
Split for Mile 1: 7:32

The crowd of runners was still pretty congested, and it was hard to keep with Galen. However, it was already possible to pick up the pace, not that my watch/foot pod could tell though: I just didn't believe we were going as slowly as the pod said.

I felt some tightness in my left calf and some dull pain in my shin, as in some runs a couple of weeks earlier, and I figured (and hoped) they would go away.
Split for Mile 2: 7:12

Now, the crowd of runners was loosening a bit, but a faster planned mile required some manouevers, particularly for small uphill -- I'm a hill runner! I pass people going uphill! I finally caught view of Galen when he passed me on my left, but when I found a path between people on the right, I lost sight of him again.
Split for Mile 3: 6:57

I note to myself that the stiffness in my left calf is still there, and at this point, it was turning a bit painful in the shin. I was feeling pretty comfortable with the pace, despite how fast, and I was still amazed as to how many runners were running this pace.
Split for Mile 4: 6:56

I had missed the mile 4 marker, so I didn't have any real idea how fast I was going. Towards the end of this mile, I noted how my left leg and shin was definitely painful. Depite a small hill here, I started to notice my heart rate drop (at least one display on my watch was telling me info I believed),
Split for Mile 5: 6:55

I began to have concerns that I was going out too fast, ignoring Mike's warnings about the course and the strategy he was advising me to take. (Mike's warning, in short: if you cave in to the temptation of the mostly downhill, first 17 miles, your legs would give out on you when you need to climb the Newton Hills.)

I had decided to take a GU every five miles, so it was time, but I took note of a little stitch in my side and thought about how breakfast was different (more, and a couple of hours earlier relative to race start) with this later-start race, and since I hadn't had the big, arugula salad the night before, I wondered if my body was telling me that I still had some digesting to do.

At this point, I decided to ignore my footpod's speed reading: it was saying I'm going .much slower than I know I was going, and the total milage at this point was way off. The consequence was that I was running by feel, and I felt like this pace wasn't hard. Breathing was easy, uphills were brief and easy enough.
Split for Mile 6: 6:43

I was still rolling through. Every now and again there were pockets of loud race fans.
Split for Mile 7: 6:56

I remarked to myself how my leg still hurt. My shin was a dull ache, and my calf was tight. I tried to decide if my right shoe's shoelace hit my left calf, or if what I felt was a twinge. Still, I was going fast, and occasionally looking for Galen but I didnot see him. I decided upon seeing the split that he probably is not trying to keep up with this pace.

I again considered how I was not following Mike's warnings about how a fast start might doom me.
Split for Mile 8: 6:51

I was still breezing along, breathing easily, and running way faster than my pace band said I should. I noted that there wasn't much wind and I felt appropriately dressed in my singlet with gloves.
Split for Mile 9: 6:47

Feel-check. At this point at CIM, I felt strong and started to surge ahead, and in Portland, I was laboring a bit but holding pace. Here, I was going fast and I was neither holding back nor pushing. I hardly noticed the uphill in this mile.
Split for Mile 10: 7:05

Getting Close to Half Way

The course largely flattened out here, nearing the half-way mark. My concern about left calf was increasing, mostly in the form of fear that I would experience the kind of rolling cramp I had in Portland. I noted how far ahead I was of 3:08 pace, and started thinking that my 3:06 desire was in reach, if my legs would just hold out.
Split for Mile 11: 7:06

I began cruising a bit faster with the downhill. In the distance, I hear a loud, high pitched din, and I think I know what's coming.
Split for Mile 12: 6:53

Ah, college girls, and the infamous Wellesley Wall. On the right side of the road, Wellesley women lined up for a half mile, screaming loud, high pitched screams. Some in sundresses despite the cool weather, many with "Kiss Me" signs. I decided to run about two runners' widths away-- close enough to look but not touch (or be touched). I picked up the pace and wore a big smile. After the wall of women subsided a bit, I saw one gal a little bit away from the crowd: short hair, nose rings, holding a sign indicating kisses for lesbians. Priceless!
Split for Mile 13: 6:50

At the halfway mark, I noted that my chance to finish in 3:06 was strong (I doubled my split and added 1 min). I also took this opportunity to determine what my supposed off-set from the course clocks was -4:06 (I saw the clock read 1:35 or so and my watch read 1:31 or so).

My water bottle was nearly dry, and I tried to get my bottle ready when I saw an upcoming water stop, but I needed to take off a glove, so I could unwrap an electrolyte tablet, which I didn't accomplish until after the water stop had passed. I let the tablet shake around inside the bottle.

I started thinking that I have the hills coming up, and I was hoping my legs would stay strong.

I began an eloquent internal debate: was I going too fast, without experience of the course? Or would my solid training and generally good hill running experience prevail?. I was also thinking that I could just put it all out there: this is the race I've been training for since December, 2007..
Split for Mile 14: 7:06

The next water stop came up and I pulled in behind the line of cup holding-volunteers and began dumping cups into my open bottle. Unfortunatelty, I shook my bottle just before starting as a reflex to empty it, and lost the tablet. After two cups were dumped in, a volunteer oticed and he brought over his pitcher to finish the job.

I began to feel like I had the luxury to slow down a bit before the start of the Newton Hills, so I eased off the gas a touch.
Split for Mile 15: 7:22

The mid-point of the next mile starts a big downhill, and this should be the fastest mile, so my letting off the gas had some impact on my speed here.
Split for Mile 16: 6:50

At the mile-marker, a forboding sign marking the start of the challenge: Now entering Newton, founded 1630.

The Newton Hills and Heartbreak Hill

Let's get to work! Still concerned about my left leg & calf, I take the first hill... Not so bad.... I let out a small curse when I realized I missed a mile marker, probably looking left to the crowd of Newtonians.
Split for Mile 17: 7:10

A mostly flat mile with another incline at the end, and this one felt a bit steeper.
Split for Mile 18: 7:10

Seeing the split for two miles at this point, I noted that I gained 16 seconds rather than slowing beyond what the pce-band strategy would allow!.

No inclines for the next mile, so it was a bit of a breather. My hill climbing instincts kicked-in: give yourself a chance to recharge before the next hill.
Split for Mile 19: 7:06

I felt a sharp twinge in left calf, and a small alert from the right one. I started up one hill that I thought was the start of Heartbreak Hill. 'Here we go,' I thought. 'I have the energy to take the hill.' There was an enormous crowd, loud and yelling encouragement. Up the hill... is that all? .... No.
Split for Mile 20: 7:11

After a brief leveling out, the actual Heartbreak Hill began, but I still did not find it taxing. There was some headwind working against me, too, at this point.

The crowd was loud!

Around a curve and the hill became steeper. A guy in a Captain America costume was getting all the cheers. I got to work and dug a little, pumping my arms a bit, pulling him in and easily passing him. I pumped my fist in the air as I reached the crest and drove through the summit with strong strides.

One stride later and I feel my right calf flash with pain. But Heartbreak Hill was done, and it would be downhill from here!
Split for Mile 21: 7:14

Downhill to the Finish

A sharp downhill began, and while descending, my right-calf cramped and locked up.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four strides...

...with a locked leg position to protect my calf!

Then, finally, my normal strides resumed, and I was relieved that it wasn't too painful and that I could run normally. Shortly after that, it was forgotten as I thought to myself: I have a lot left! Despite fears that my calves might revolt, my legs are not heavy, my breathing is easy, my heart rate is low. Just four miles to go and I wanted to finish strong, to leave nothing behind.
Split for Mile 22: 6:49

Legs were feeling okay, but a few small signs of trouble were present.

I began to think about Kobe Bryant, how he can have a dismal shooting night and then come in to a key point of the fourth quarter and knock down a difficult three. He can forget the shots that didn't fall and play at his best when it matters most. It's now my fourth quarter, and I will focus on nothing other than reaching that finish line as fast as I can.

This is the 10k after the 20 miler. This is fast. This is what Pfitzinger described what I should be doing at the end: pass people. I am putting my head down and pushing the pace a bit, and I am passing people as we enter Boston.
Split for Mile 23: 6:51

Passing people like they were standing still!

People were lined deep up on both sides of the street. A few jerks crossed the road in groups of three or four and nearly caused me to alter my stride to avoid crashing into them.

I was trying to vary my stride a little bit to keep all parts of my leg engaged, to not give my calves a chance to think I'm done with them yet.
Split for Mile 24: 6:54

Just two miles now. I can do this. I kept running hard, my arms pumping a little and my breathing starting to get a little heavier. Passing people, some who have stopped to walk.
Split for Mile 25: 6:57

One mile left! I'm going to make it. I was working a little harder now... can't wait to get this over with. Legs holding steady, arms pumping, breathing starting to go deep and audible. A right hand turn onto Hereford Street, and as I came around the corner, I saw another casualty walking, holding his side. Two blocks uphill and a left onto Boylston Street and now the crowd lining the street is madness... so many people, and such a loud symphony of cheering. Off in the distance I can see an overhead structure that must be the finish line, but I'm deeply distrustful that it is a mirage. I keep pushing and breathing hard, hearing some of my breath rasp from my chest.
Split for Mile 26: 6:53

The finish is approaching. I'm almost there! I pump my fist high in the air as I reach the finish line, see 3:07- something on the clocks and realize, I must have broken 3:04! Holy cow! I have done it! I have given my best race to the Boston Marathon. I have done what I wanted to do, and more.


Post Race

I stopped to a very slow walk, immediately feeling my left shin bothering me and slowing my walk to a hobble. I quickly found Ari there, and we exchanged congratulations. I don't really believe what I've done!

We wandered forward through the chute to get space blankets, and I lost Ari. I got my timing chip removed, received my medal, had a worker adjust my space blanket as the wind was coming from behind me and blowing over it over my head. I thanked each helpful worker profusely. I pressed forward and somehow failed to locate the bus with my sweats-bag, and I wound up getting someone to find it for me while I waited in the medical tent getting warm (more blankets, warm bullion soup, more amazingly helpful workers). I got my bag, pull on my clothes, called Galen, listened to messages, drank two protein drinks I stored inside my bag and somehow managed to limp my way, slowly, to the Green Line station at Arlington, limp back to my hotel, found a hot shower and laid down, feeling very stiff.

I had dinner with Galen at my hotel, and then drinks with Ari, Abe, Michelle and Andy (Ari's host) out near South End.

My post race recovery was not nearly as fast as any other marathon I've run, as the pain in my left shin did not subside. In fact, I called my doctor to see if I needed to go to urgent care at 1am because I could not find a position lying down where my shin didn't hurt. On the plane home, only after I switched to Motrin (from Advil) did I feel the shin pain subside a bit, as I was able to sleep for a couple of hours on the plane.

• • •

On to the graphs!


Variance from plan (where plan was to finish in around 3:08): I think this graph is less meaningful than in prior races since I ran a solid four minutes faster than the plan. The standard deviation of my splits was 11.7 seconds, which is wider than CIM and Portland. Given the variety of hills on the course and the initial congestion, I suppose that's not too surprising.

Still, it does show how in the early part of the race, I had sped up to run many miles more than ten seconds faster than I planned to, a big risk. Mile 4-9 all way faster than plan is not the best strategy!

Heart Rate:
I always like this graph because the spikes of the Max heart rate shows when there were uphills within the mile. A few interesting notes:

• I stayed up in the 180 range longer. In Portland, I was down to 175 by mile 5, and it took me until Mile 9 to do that in Boston. I think this means that I was comfortable running faster and at a higher heart rate.
• The same overall pattern still showed up: high at the start, cooling down for the middle, then starting to drift upwards at the end. I am sure that the increase in heart rate towards the finish would have been more severe if the course had been flatter then.
• You can read Heartbreak Hill by the spike in both average and maximum at mile 21.
  

Time relative to Plan:
Again, since the plan was modest compared to what I ran, this feels a bit less useful. However, it is interesting to note how I made a steady march down to a faster than plan time, with a small break around miles 14 and 15.

Projected based upon pace:
I did this to see how quickly I focused in on a 3:04 pace. Answer: by mile 6, I had brought the pace close enough to finish near 3:04. While the time drifts back up, it does so neatly around the Newton Hills and Heartbreak Hill.

Marathon Record:

Five personal records in a row.

Reflections

Wow.

On the one hand, this was something I have been training for for at least 15 months, I had a great indicator of my progress with the 39:31 10k, and conditions didn't bother me. On the other hand, I just didn't feel like I had that much room to improve over my 3:09:39 at Portland. But nearly 6 minutes! Wow.

And I believe that if I my calf wasn't so tight throughout the race, I would be able to say without qualification that the course didn't take my legs away. While I was concerned about my calves cramping up hard on me, my legs never felt heavy or spent. My breathing never maxed out. I feel like I took this course with strength.

If, if if.... In another reality, where I have infinite free time, I'd naturally look at how I could train for and break 3 hours at CIM in December. But, NO. I have done everything I wanted at Boston. I have overcome (or reacted to with good preparation and luck) the warnings of those who know Boston's challenges. I have set a PR by a wide margin in the nation's premier marathon, and I am satisfied.

I am satisfied.

So flippin' ready for Boston!

I probably first gave serious consideration to running the Boston Marathon on July 29, 2007, shortly after meeting my goal in the 2007 San Francisco Marathon.

Monday, April 20, 2009, I will run the Boston Marathon.

(I could have run it on Monday, April 19, 2008, had I not cared that Patriot's Day was landing on the first day of Passover, but I digress. The point is, 21 months seems like a long time to be focused on this goal.)

I described much of my thinking about this in the Portland Interlude, so let's go straight to the training recap, shall we?

Goal: let's call it 3:09, but I know I want to run it faster than that.

I had ten weeks between when I finished the Portland Marathon and when my typical 18-week, Pfitzinger-based plan would begin. I followed a very similar training plan as I did for CIM, adding in intensity in the form of more Lactate Threshhold and Race-Pace runs, and peaking again at 65-miles.

The Boston Marathon course is widely thought to be very challenging, and deceptively so. People who have run it describe the first 17 miles as downhill, sort of like CIM. However, the Newton Hills are supposed to just kill any runner whose legs haven't stood up well to the pounding of the downhills of the previous 17 miles. Leg strength, not cardio-vascular fitness, is supposed to be the bigger factor. There are many tales of runners simply breaking down after feeling great for 17 miles.

So while my over-arching plan was to run Portland, recover, and then build up stronger for Boston, I would need to add in an element to my training that I didn't have before.

Bigger, badder, nastier, downhill HILLS.

Sure, one cannot run in San Francisco without some hills, but a lot of my running was designed to reduce the significant hills in my routes. Now, I would seek them out:

• In the last six weeks before the main work of the schedule really began, I thrice ran a up and down course over a mile stretch of O'Shaughnessy, where on the way down I ran pretty hard, pounding my quads.
• Generally, I shifted my Race-Pace and LT runs to include hillier terrains.
• One highlight: the Point Bonita 21 miler, with Ari, Galen Adrian. This has an uphill on the way back so steep that cyclists aren't allowed on the road.

I also put in a couple of races towards the end of the Race Preparation Mesocycle, as Pfitzinger recommends. However, I did these in a way I never had before. Due the to dearth of Saturday races in the Bay Area, I wound up running 17 miles the day before the DSE Fort Point 12k, and then 20 miles the day before the Presidio 10 10k. Both races were incredibly fast for me, with the later being my best 10k by over a minute (pictured). It reminds me of Thomas' response to my inquiry about having races at the point of the schedule ("There's also an immense mental benefit from setting a 10K PR 2 weeks before a marathon"), as I feel like there's no way I could have run such a fast 10k with a 20 miler the day before if I were not in incredible shape.

In terms of volume (how many miles), I mirrored what I did for CIM, with a long, slow build up after Portland.
(The graph shows the last three marathon preparations, but doesn't make it as clear that the long build up for Boston comes directly after the Portland line.)




So now, I've set aside all my gear for the trip, arranged so I can carbo-load over the next few days, and readied myself as much as I can. I am optimistic though nervous, but I feel like I've put in the training to make this a great race. I'm excited, and I'm so flippin' ready!

• • •

Track me online, Monday morning starting at 7:00 am Pacific! The Boston Marathon has the best tracking of any marathon I know of, so look me up by name and see how I take the Newton Hills!

The 2008 Portland Marathon

The race: 26.2 miles

I set out to do something, and I did it.

I don't have as overwhelming a reaction as I did with CIM, but back then, I was less sure I could do what I did, I overachieved by four minutes, and it meant I was qualified for Boston.

Don't get me wrong though, I'm very happy. Sore, but happy.

The tale of my insanity continues, as I tell you about my fourth marathon.

The Strategy

While I've been to Portland a couple of times before, it has been at least 10 years, and I couldn't tell a thing about the course from the maps on the marathon's website. Well, one thing I could tell: the course elevation profile was relatively flat with a warned-about hill in mile 17 as the course approaches and runs over a bridge. So I planned out a pace-band to give me a little extra time in the first three miles to lock in the pace, and another staple of extra time to navigate the late hill.

As with CIM, the weather was a bit of a worry. Throughout the week before, rain seemed a certainty, but the storm came in on Friday and the forecast for the morning was to be humid but a low chance of rain. Oh, and 52 degrees throughout. I figured I'd be drinking more water during the race.

Race Morning

I had a better night's sleep than in any of my prior marathons, but I did wake up several times and had trouble falling back to sleep each time. That said, I felt less bleary-eyed when the alarm went off at 5:45 than I can recall from my three prior marathons.

I ate, dressed, pulled on sweats, and walked five or six blocks to the starting area, found where I could store my sweats and other things for after the race, then forged my way through the crowd (not as hard as I thought it would be) to reach the sign that said "3:15 and faster". Since it was really not too far away from the pace group leader for 3:10, I stopped pushing my way forwards. In the remaining 4 minutes, I tried to stretch a little, but it was pretty useless given how dense the crowd was.

The Race

Soon enough, the gun went off and the race began zigging through relatively narrow streets in downtown Portland.

The crowd of runners, initially, made the race feel a little congested, but I didn't have to zig-zag too much. Surprisingly, the early 90 degree turns in the course didn't cause for too much slow down. Pretty quickly, it was slowly uphill for a bit, and then sharply downhill. I sorted out to find the 3:10 group, then it picked up fast with the downhill.

The downtown start was pretty scenic: lots of green trees, lots of people cheering, decent looking buildings.

Mile 1: 7:16
(Mile splits are shown in sequence of completing that mile)

It was definitely humid, and I started drinking lots of water from my water bottle as I noted sweat rolling down the side of my face. I noted some regret that I was wearing a hat, since the overcast sky wasn't likely to require shade, but the cap was probably adding to my sweat-level.

Initially, I tried to lock in a pace, but I mainly found myself keeping up with the 3:10 group. As we passed along a wider avenue along the Willamette River (I think), the sense of tight surroundings quickly faded. More crowds along the path, cheering us on from the start.

Mile 2: 7:09

I eventually just committed myself to sticking with the 3:10 group, figuring that I could let it go if it felt too fast. We diverged from the River and completed a box, returning several miles later to be retracing our steps along the river, now seeing the thousands of runners (and walkers) still coming the other way.

Mile 3: 7:34


Mile 4: 7:08


Mile 5: 7:10

I started to hear the pace-group leader talking to others in the group, and he responded to a question about how hard this was for him with "it's pretty easy". Not much later, following some jostling, he joked that he was being run off the road by the group. I joked, deadpanning: "we have it out for you. We heard you say this was easy."

We were now on a long straight-away, clicking off another mile.

Mile 6: 7:19

Many miles I ran with this cluster, twice bumping into the same other runner who chided me because I drifted into her while looking the other way (at a water station we were passing). I apologized. I thought about how, just like I learned at CIM, running in this crowd was a bit more demanding than running outside of it, since you have to deal with jostling, paying attention to other runners. In fact, as a wheelchair-runner was about to speed by, our group got very congested and I ended up stepping on the back of another runner's shoe, with the shoe coming straight off. I apologized to him, and he fell back to retrieve his shoe. However, I really didn't feel like going ahead of the group, and I didn't want to drop back far enough to get clear(er), either. So I stayed with them.

Mile 7: 7:19

At this point we were passing through a fairly boring, industrial-warehouse part of Portland. Coming in on one hour into the race, my water bottle was already empty. 20 ounces, gone. I stopped at the next water station, pulling in between volunteers and dumping cup after cup into my bottle to get it refilled. I then rejoined the race-flow, and had lost significant ground on the pace group. I cautioned myself not to close in on them too quickly.

Mile 8: 7:10

Unfortunately, this long straightway ended at a 180-degree turnaround. After the turnaround, I caught some headwind. Galen had examined the forecast and had said something about wind in the latter half of the race, so that came to mind. But this wind was slight, refreshing, and temporary.

Mile 9: 7:11

The pace group was coming back in range. I caught up with the woman I had drifted into earlier and introduced myself and asked her name (Mary), and then resumed in closing the gap with the pace group, all before the next mile marker, notching a fast split. Somehow, I lost zero seconds with the water stop.

Mile 10: 7:01

Mile 11: 7:11

Diverging from the return on the straightaway, we headed towards greener pastures (almost literally).

Mile 12: 7:11

At this point in the race, I began to compare how I felt at CIM to how I was feeling then. At this point in both races, I was keeping up with a pace group, but at CIM, I felt strong enough to surge ahead of the pace group and not look back. I did not feel as strong, and I even started to note that the pacegroup seemed fast (some of these splits were below the 7:15 pace I would expect from the group). I began to wonder: I had only ever done 14 miles at this pace before -- was I up to doing this without the benefit of CIM's net-downhill course?

And then, a light rain started. Actually, it was kind of refreshing, sometimes a bit heavier for a few moments. In those heavier moments, I was very glad I wore a hat. Not so with the sunglasses that were perched on top of the hat, though.

We came downhill, with the side of a hillside to our left along a curvy road. I had decided to let the pace group go a bit and just tried to focus on hitting 7:15 splits.


Mile 13: 7:00

As we reached the halfway mark, I noted my time (1:34:30, or a 3:09 pace) and the fact that the pace group was ahead of me by 10-20 seconds meant they were on pace for a sub 3:09. This confirmed my need to let the pace group go ahead. I did see the pace leader hand off the pace-lead sign to another runner on the pace lead team, remarking that he'd see us later in the race. Huh? The guy who said it was easy was going only half-way? I could lead this pace for half a marathon!

Perhaps coincidentally, I started to feel some fading confidence, even though I knew I was ahead of plan. I just didn't feel as solid and in control as I did at CIM.

(It is fascinating to note that despite me seeing my splits along the way, looking at it now, I was going pretty fast when I started to lose confidence. I had just banked 37 seconds over the prior four miles.)

We approached a very green hillside and started to run along side the base of it.

Mile 14: 7:06

Mile 15: 7:10

Then, as we got closer to the approach to Bridge: I thought, this must be why the pace group is ahead of schedule, to allocate for the hill.

I had decided that the main reason I was pushing ahead was that I am a competitor.

Mile 16: 7:13

From the start of the hill, I watched my heart rate, and I was sort of surprised to see only 173 while midway up the hill, though the pace my watch was reading had slipped to 8:00. I felt, for a dozen strides, some tightness in my left lower quad, right above the knee, but it went away. Nonetheless, my hill-climbing reputation was not to be denied, and I was gaining ground on the pace leader.

Mile 17: 7:41
(I had allocated 7:45 for this hill)

By the time we were on the St. John's Bridge, I was pushing and nearly back with him and what was left of the pace group.

After the summit of the bridge, I started to feel pretty powerful. That was the only really challenging hill, and I took it and had leftover strength. The ensuing downhill was less beneficial. I started to need to push on and off, sometimes seeing splits a little off. I sometimes was also seeing my heart rate dip to 166 (which gave me the confidence to push more and speed up).



At 18 miles, I noted: only 8.2 to go

Mile 18: 7:01

The rain had pretty much stopped. We were on the other side of the river from downtown.

20 came up fast. Residential areas, lots of fans calling out my name (reading it off my bib). Some shouting encouragement that I wasn't far behind 3:10, not knowing that I was, in fact, ahead of 3:10 pace.

Mile 20: 7:19

Mile 19: 7:23



Mile 21: 7:24

Mile 22: 7:03

4.2 to go, and well ahead of goal. Visualizing 3:09. Thinking I have it in me, just think about the second half of a 10k. I pass the 3:10 leader.

Mile 23: 7:21

Three miles left.

The 3:10 leader passes me back, but I stick with him and the three others who are still with him.

Then, I feel a cramp form in my right calf. A couple of strides and I'm okay, though wondering why it happens. Did the fact that I hadn't continued the same pace of water-drinking while it rained contribute? Still, I wasn't going to stop again to refill, and I resigned myself to the little water I had left.

Mile 24: 7:16

Two-point-two to go. I start to push a little. Another spasm in the right calf, this time jolting me a bit, messing up my stride and I slow down. I look up and we are approaching dowtown, and I notice I've lost ground on the 3:10 lead. I try to recover from the cramp, hoping to find an angle to my stride where that won't happen again. I'm starting to be afraid that my calf will lock up on me. I'm starting to ignore the beep from my watch when it would tell me I was going too slow.

The calf spasms again, a few times, but not as badly as the big one. I try to find a balance between pushing to the finish and being consevative about my calf. We approach a smaller bridge that must lead us back downtown.

Mile 25: 7:15

Okay, 1.2 to go, I can do this. Three, maybe four more spasms in my calf, one which feels like it could trip me but doesn't. I'm just hoping I can hang on for six more minutes and not get thrown off my feet from a bad cramp.

Now it feels like we're getting close.

Mile 26: 7:17


The 26 mile marker goes by and I think, less than four hundred meters to go. I am running down a downtown Portland street, pumping my arms, and there are barriers holding back fans who cheer for my seemingly strong but actually desperate, wobbly feeling finish. We turn a corner and the 3:10 lead is just a few meters ahead of me, and I can see the finish line.

And then I hear Wagner - the Ride of the Valkeries, and something clicks in me and I chase down the 3:10 lead only to finish seconds behind him with the clock telling me I ran 3:09:30 something. I pumped my right arm high and crossed the finish line, excited in no small part that it was over.







Mile 26.2: 1:29


Sub 3:10! Another Boston-Qualifying time, but this time, without the age-discount, and better still, no grace period over the 3:10, either. 3:09 something!

Medal placed around my neck.

Space blanket, which actually starts to keep me warm.

Cup of water.

Trying to keep walking and really glad they used disposable timing chips so I wouldn't have to stop for someone to clip off the chip. Pass up a milk drink and got my hands on a juice-smoothie in a bottle.

Wandering around, drinking the juice, and clutching the space blanket ends and my water bottle. I kept wandering back and forth in the food area, chatting up a couple of runners who I recognized from the pace group, eating more, until I realized I didn't want to eat anything else just then. Headed off towards my sweats-bag check hoping to ward off the cold that was descending upon me. Collected a rose (a sweet Portland tradition), a finishers' shirt (nice that they only give it to finishers), a tree seedling (Conifer, another nice tradition) and exited the controlled area. I feared for a bit that I might not make it back to my hotel, as I was starting to get uncomfortably cold and was feeling pretty slow. I started to try to walk in a very directed manner.


I had to then navigate through the "reunion area", which was sort of a bummer since I made this trip alone and there would be no reunion for me until much later. It started to rain again, this time a little harder. I made it to the bag check, and started to feel a little warmer when I managed to get my wet shirt off and a dry layer on. I took a couple of Advil and drank a protein-fortified smoothie I had stored. I felt a bit better and headed back to my hotel, and once inside my room, I felt warmer. Once inside the shower, I felt pretty darn good. A long, ecologically irresponsible shower. Ah...

• • •

On to the graphs!

Variance from plan (where plan was to finish in around 3:11): The standard deviation of my splits was just 9.7 seconds, which means I ran a pretty steady pace all the way through. This was a hair wider than the standard deviation from CIM, and that stands to reason, given the difference in the hill-profile.


I like how this shows that I was more frequently significantly ahead of plan than behind, and that I fought to the finish. It also pretty clearly indicates that I was, like CIM, putting in some very solid miles in the middle of the course (miles 8 through 18 are all ahead of plan).

Heart rate:



Pretty similar pattern to CIM: starting out high, dropping and settling in, then starting to rise back up as the finish approaches. You can clearly see the big hill approach to the bridge. I also am noticing that the miles in which my heart rate settled down were the miles that I started getting solidly ahead of pace. Also interesting to note the down-up-down pattern of miles 23-25. Perhaps, had my calf not acted up, I might have pushed harder in the last three miles. Does this suggest I had more in the tank?

Time relative to Plan:

This view shows how I was always ahead of plan, and how those miles from 8 to 18 is where I banked a sub 3:10 finish. I'm not quite sure how come I slowed down for a few miles after the Bridge, especially because those were downhill miles.


Relative to CIM:

I threw this in to watch how I PR'd. After mile 5, I was steadily putting distance between me and my CIM performance.

• • •

Again, I feel like it was a solid, dedicated training effort that made this possible. I feel like I have something to build on in preparation for Boston in April, and I really did get what I wanted out of this race and effort.

Props to the Portland Marathon and the people of Portland! Good crowd support throughout most of the race, good organization, good vibe, solid aid stations, loads of volunteers. I would have liked to have been able to retrieve my sweats bag a little closer to the finish, but otherwise, I can't find anything else to complain about -- and runners do love to complain. I would easily recommend this marathon.

It was great to get all the same kind of support from the K-Stars as I trained, and the never ending support of my wife who gives me the time and space to train. It was magical to see her and my kids when I got home Sunday evening.

Until April!

Portland Interlude

Tomorrow, I'll get on a plane and arrive in Portland, OR, at 2:30pm.

Sunday, I'll get on a plane and leave Portland at 3:00pm.

What craziness is this? I'm running the Portland Marathon.

Primarily, I do not want to have 17 months pass between when I qualified for the Boston Marathon and when I run it. I hoped to run the New York marathon, but I did not have the luck of the lottery to get in, nor the sub-Boston qualifying time, so I chose Portland. It involves travel (but not too much), it has a decent reputation, and the timing is good.

Goal: 3:12.

I figure that since Portland is a harder course than CIM (well, most anything would be harder), I would be accomplishing something if I ran the same time, and with less training. [You may recall that I started training for CIM immediately after a three week recovery from San Francisco, and I trained pretty hard for it.] For this marathon, I would put in fewer miles and not be coming off the heels of another marathon.

My training has gone well. I ran the same program I followed for CIM, but I pared it back to 60 miles at peak instead of 65, and I didn't try to push myself so hard in the fifth week of my big surge. I have found in my marathon pace runs that I can hit the 7:15 pace that should serve me well for many miles and not feel completely taxed doing so. I did one such run where I ran 14 of 18 miles at that pace, including completing the hard-charge up the hills in Golden Gate Park, and met the pace throughout.

So now, two days before the race, I am feeling pretty confident that I'll have a good race, but I'm also not so concerned about performing well. Injury is the worst that can happen, not failing to meet this goal.

Watch my progress if you can! The race starts at 7am on Sunday.

Boston Bound! (The 2007 California International Marathon)

The race: 26.2 miles

When reflecting back on yesterday's race, I can just think "Oh, my!"

I put it all out there, and I am very happy about the result. I met every conceivable angle of my goals for the race.

Let me tell you about it. If you haven't read about my prior races, just know that I've run the San Francisco Marathon twice.

The Strategy

I didn't know a lot about the course for CIM compared to how well I know the San Francisco Marathon course. The consequence of that is that I couldn't really establish an ideal mile-by-mile split. I could generally assume that if I allowed myself more time to cover the first 15 miles (generally hilly, not as downhill), I could go faster over the last 11 to cover it. So I planned to run at 7:30 pace until mile 15, then 7:20 pace the rest of the way, which would give me a 3:15 and change finish. I made a pace-band based upon total time (e.g. at mile 8 I should be at 1:00:00 or less).

That said, I was pretty confident that I would run faster than 3:15, based largely on the 1:30:27 US Half, the 40:25 10k I ran recently, and all the MRP runs wherein I did not struggle to maintain a better than 7:27 average pace.

While the course profile wasn't so concerning for me, weather was. Fortunately, rain was not in the forecast, but it was supposed to be 41 degrees with 18 mph winds at the start time ("feels like 32"). I haven't run in weather that cold since 1989.

Race Morning

At 2:00 am, I was awakened (I think I was asleep) to the sound of a nearby bar letting out its inebriated and noisy patrons. Loud yelling, laughing, car horns, car stereos blasting for twenty minutes. A cold hotel room. I don't think I slept after that. I "awoke" in the not-so Quality Inn at 4:40 am, ate a light breakfast, dressed, added layers for pre-race warmth, and walked the two blocks to the host hotel where school buses were lined up (and runners were lined up, boarding the buses) for about two or three blocks. Before getting too cold, I was on board a bus, chatting with a woman named Jody who was local to Sacramento and seeking to break four hours (it seems that she did).

The Starting Area

We arrived at around 6:20. I was dressed warmly enough to sustain the temperature and not have to do much to stay warm. I wandered forward to seek a short(er) line for a Port-a-Potty and found myself in the same line as Denis, a K-Star whom I had run two, long, fast MRP runs with at around 7:20 pace. Denis and I hung out until race time, but I lost him when he returned to the lines for another bathroom trip and I headed to the starting line. I took off my sweatshirt, warm-up suit, mittens, knit hat, ski-socks and warm shoes, and got into my running shoes, cap and running gloves, sent my "sweats-bag" to the truck, got reasonably close to the 3:15 pace group and waited for the start, feeling not very cold. I was wearing one layer I would be able to discard along the way: a cheap ($6) tyvek jacket that I had perforated along the sleeves and up the front for tear-away removal. I had been thinking that I'd keep my warm layer on for at least five miles.

The Start

The Mayor of Folsom greeted us, saying he was never otherwise pleased to be sending people out of Folsom. He pledged to run CIM next year, being inspired by the group of us. The gun went off, and the runners ambled slowly towards the starting line and then began running as we hit the start. Thick with runners. Loads of them, all running a pretty decent pace from the start. I kept my eye on the 3:15 pace leader and gradually, slowly worked my way towards that pack, not having to do too much dodging around people.

Mile 1: 7:32

Shortly in, I noticed Adrian, another K-Star whom I had run with during training. We chatted a bit, especially noting two things:

• the pace leader had perfect, automatic form but was going a bit fast
• the weather was a bit warmer than expected

The path was still pretty thick as we encountered the first of the 18 water stations.

Mile 2: 7:10

At this point, Denis had caught up. Strangely, Denis and Adrian had yet to meet. Denis, Adrian. Adrian, Denis. Adrian pointed to the 3:10 pace group, very close ahead of our group, and said "tempting, isn't it?".

Another water station already!

Mile 3: 7:17

Shortly in, feeling sweat start to drip on my arms, I realized it was time to shed the sleeves. Two strong tugs and, poof: my time with scissors the night before paid off as my right sleeve was off. Two more strong tugs and the left sleeve was off. Now, where is the next water station so I can not litter so blatantly?

The First Mid-Section

Mile 4: 7:07

At this point, I started to notice the pack of runners thinning out, except around our pace leader. I noticed a nice scattering of fans at the side of the road, some in small clusters, some spread out.

Finally, a water station! I had pulled off the vest portion of my jacket and was holding the sleeves and vest in my crumpled hand for at least a mile. I dodged cleanly behind the water tables and dropped them in an open trash can, accelerated a touch and was back on the road.

Mile 5: 7:19

I heard the pace leader mention that he had run a little faster in the previous few miles because he deemed the next few to be the toughest part of the course, so we could take it easier. Oddly enough, it was miles 7 to 11 that Galen had told me were to be the toughest section. Hm.

Denis, Adrian and I found ourselves back and forth, behind or ahead of the pace group, for the next several miles.

Mile 6: 7:21

More road, unremarkable.

I fell in a couple of runners behind the pace leader and realized I wasn't feeling too hot. I sort of zoned out for a few minutes, loosely focusing on the runners ahead of me, and essentially coasting. I came out of it, and suddenly felt that there was a very strong reason to use a pace-group: you can let your mind do anything and all you have to do is keep up.

Mile 7: 7:21

At this point, I saw Galen (who had come up for race support). Galen had my camera and was taking pictures and cheering. He had instructed me to stay towards the right of the road. At some point, a couple of miles back, I had thought about this, but now this was forgotten and I was closer to the middle of the road, with many runners on my right. So, when I saw Galen, I headed in his direction. I heard him cheer for Denis, who was behind me a bit, so he caught me, but only accidentally.


(That's me, out of focus on the right, ahead of the 3:15 pace group/mob by a bit.)

This worried me a bit: the next time I would see Galen he was to exchange water bottles for me, and I was making a dent in my first bottle. What if Galen waited too long, assuming I might be further behind the pace group?

Adrian joked with me about my strategy: "what happened to 7:30?" I told him it was "Price is Right" strategy, making Denis comment about Plinko, and then further jokes about which prize we would win. What I meant, of course, was that I was intending to do at least 7:30 but not go over.

Some net-uphill miles began.

Mile 8: 7:30

Adrian extolled the virtue of running apart from the pace group, as the road felt more open and there were fewer other runners to contend with in that cluster.

Mile 9: 7:36

At this point, Denis made the observation that this felt a little too easy. I agreed: at this point in the San Francisco Marathon, one would have ascended Lincoln and run across the Bridge, considerably steep hills. I just wasn't noticing the hills so much. A little uphill, but not steep enough to really slow me down much. And it felt like I had a lot in the tank.

Shortly thereafter, both Adrian and Denis commented that I had looked really strong during training.

Mile 10: 7:15

I was feeling pretty strong. We were ahead of the pace group a bit, and I used a downhill section and slipped away, a bit, from Adrian and Denis. I heard them behind me agree that I was looking really strong.

Mile 11: 7:02

Yep, I was feeling pretty strong. Now done with what Galen felt was a tough patch, I started to push a little. Here, we started to go through small towns, the advantage of which was a gathering place for hundreds of spectators, all of whom cheered and encouraged runners along.

The Main Push

I was feeling really good and fast. And I finished the contents of my water bottle. I started to consider if I'd have to re-fill it at an aid station if I missed Galen, and when I'd decide to do that, since we had agreed that he'd meet me at around 12 miles, but I wasn't sure where that would be, really.

Mile 12: 7:12

I was on the outside, again, when I saw Galen, and I came in to swap bottles. He complained about the bad pictures he was getting of me.



Mile 13: 7:07

As I passed the halfway mark, I saw an official clock, noted the off-set to my watch, and saw how I was almost three minutes ahead of my goal pace. I realized that my pace band was now largely worthless, since I didn't plan to lose those three minutes.

In fact, I was feeling like I might be able to keep this pace and really bust that 3:15 mark. These miles were melting away.

Mile 14: 7:14

Gearing up for the last hilly section. Past this next mile, and it was supposed to be all downhill or flat the rest of the way. The hill came, and while I noted that I was slowing a touch, I still put in a solid mile.

Mile 15: 7:41

Now, I actually felt like I needed to step it up. I heard my watch beep, and I looked down and saw that it was switching (as I had programmed it) to the last mode, wherein it would beep at me if I ran slower than 7:35 at any moment. It was doing that right away, since I was facing an uphill stretch. But the main idea was that if my pace started to drift slower, as it did in the final few miles at the San Francisco Marathon in July, I would at least know it.

The challenge, of course, was knowing how fast to go. I was looking at my heart rate now for guidance, and largely seeing numbers around 170. I was figuring that this was perfectly okay. So I kept pushing.

Mile 16: 7:21

At each mile marker, someone had a stopwatch and was calling out the mile-paces. I started to, fairly consistently, hear them say "7:21" when I reached each split. This would be six seconds faster per mile than I would need to qualify! Just ten miles to go! I started to notice runners ahead of me and began to pick them off: "okay, this guy in the blue shirt", work towards him, pass him, identify the next victim.

Mile 17: 7:11

I saw Galen again, and again, I was on the outside, but this time, I sort of posed for a picture.




Somewhere in this next mile, I started to notice that my legs were feeling a bit tight. This was the first time since those few minutes being dragged by the pace group that I wasn't feeling like it was easy going.


Mile 18: 7:28

Driving it Home

I was beginning to wonder if it was possible that I had paid too much out in the previous 8 miles or so. I convinced myself that I hadn't, since I was watching my heart rate and it was pretty low. Even during this mile, I wasn't seeing anything above 170. That said, I think it was somewhere around here that I resolved to put every ounce of effort into making this the best possible race I could. I had trained for this, I had nothing to save for, I was committing to do the best I could do.

I started to take note of little milestones, noting that I was going to be finished within an hour at this point.

Mile 19: 7:20

Keeping my watch alarm at bay, I was working to keep the pace a little faster, and keeping an eye on my heart rate. My legs seemed a little worse off, but not much. I started to feel an increase in the slight headache I've been nursing for half an hour. I noticed the corny fake brick wall construction around the 20 mile mark, signifying the notion that you'd break through the wall on your way to the finish.

Mile 20: 7:19

Only 6 miles to go, I told myself. Still pushing. Finally entering outer Sacramento, still putting in good miles.

Mile 21: 7:17

Still driving hard, picking off some runners, reaching outer Sacramento.

Mile 22: 7:19

Keeping the pace, the scenery finally changed: the streets of Sacramento were lined with trees, and fall leaves were blowing in the wind. Starting to feel it hurt, and starting to see the heart rate climb a touch.

Just 4 miles to go. I started to think of this in terms of the end of a 10k, knowing that I could do this, and hoping for a late push.

Mile 23: 7:19

Leaves falling. Me picking off runners. Heart rate up a couple of beats. Still pushing hard, wanting to make this the best race I can. Leave nothing behind.

Mile 24: 7:15

Just two miles to go, time for the final push. If I can finish this the same way I finish a 10k, I'll get some solid bonus time out of them. That said, I couldn't seem to push any harder. My breathing was getting harder, and my legs were not happy with me.

Mile 25: 7:22

This is how I looked towards the beginning of this mile. I may have seen Galen, I may not have. I just don't remember.






I felt like I was having a hard time, but also pushing hard, and a few runners had started to kick and passed me. Still I was passing other runners, and surprised that I was just a tad behind plan for the mile.

Mile 26: 7:31

It didn't surprise me that I wasn't keeping pace in that last mile, and I was dying to get this over with. Happily, I turned the corner to head down to Capitol Park, and could quickly see the last turn to the finish. Happily, the last turn left me with just enough time to push hard to the finish line, throw my hands in the air in victory, as I saw by the clock that I had finished in around 3 hours and 12 minutes.


THREE TWELVE! OH MY!


Not only a Boston Qualifying time, but nearly four minutes faster than I needed.

I staggered forward, and a volunteer had clipped my timing chip in an instant. Another volunteer had a medal for me, and I was momentarily taken aback, since I was feeling so spent that I didn't really really recognize what was happening.



I managed to get a bottle of water, and found Dave O. (a K-Star) who had helped another runner finish. Dave helped me get my gloves off and helped adjust the foil wrap so I wouldn't get too cold. I managed to get myself over for a photo-op, then found Galen, who basically helped me manage the combination of needs: get warm, get some food, find some people, not collapse.

I was feeling a strange mix of elation from having run a fantastic race, and sickness from having put it all out there. I really felt depleted and sore, and had occasional spasms in my legs that threatened to lock up on me, but since I was walking around, that didn't happen.

Still, I knew I had done my very best, that I had eclipsed my goal by a long way, and that I had an excellent effort to be happy about.

I called my wife to share my joy. Galen had been updating her along the way.

We found many other K-Stars who had participated in the relays. I accepted congratulations.

• • •

Really, I don't know how else to express my pleasure of this accomplishment. So that leaves me with...

Graphs!

Variance from plan: The standard deviation of my splits was just 9 seconds, which means I ran a pretty steady pace all the way through.




This graphs shows how I exceeded or met my plan in all but a handful of miles, and not by much. It also shows how in that middle section, when I started to pull away from the 3:15 pace group, I had some really fast miles.

Heart rate:

This is pretty much what I would expect, with some initial stress early on as we did fast miles and got into a rhythm, and then heart rate drifting upwards towards the end. In fact, this confirms for me that I was running out of gas (and had run my best race).


Time relative to Plan:


This view shows when I gained ground on my goal: steadily from mile 2 until mile 15, and then slowly until the finish (when I gave a bit back).


• • •

This time, I can attribute my success to a one source:

• Training. No doubt about it, I trained very well for this race. I was in great shape, faster and stronger, and this confirmed it.

• • •

So there you have it, sports fans! 32 minutes faster than my first marathon, 16 minutes faster than my second marathon, and Boston qualifying by four minutes in my third. I learned today that the official time was 3:11:57, a time I couldn't have dreamed of beforehand. I extend out my greatest thanks to Galen for all his support in me achieving this goal, and to my wife who gave me time and support to pursue it.

I'll be running Boston in 2009. Until then, we'll see!