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| The Olympic Arch |
With the excitement of the Olympic Marathon Trials concluded on Saturday it was time to get onto the next adventure, running 13.1 miles with no race plan on Sunday morning. What could possibly go wrong? I did not look at the course map. I knew it would be hilly, but didn't check the course elevation. I had been warned that this is, "not a PR course". Bah. Humbug.
My legs were sore from standing for 8+ hours on Saturday while volunteering. My caloric intake was spotty although I do have a new found love of Uncrustable PB&J sandwiches compliments of the volunteer food tent. I wasn't drinking enough on Saturday either, unless 2 large beers at dinner counts. I certainly felt like I had enough to drink by the end of dinner :-) The race was set to start at 6:50 am and fortunately Amy (DrBart) wanted to get there early. I like early! I wound up setting my alarm for 3:30am and we left the house at 4:15am to start the commute. Did I mention I was tired? I was :-)
We had a pleasant time getting caught up while waiting for the right moment to head over to the start line. I was nervous about being cold. The weather was similar to the trials, but with no wind at all. Of course the lack of wind would make a big difference, but after being chilled to the bone on Saturday from not wearing enough layers I wanted to be warm. Being conflicted about what to wear led to a false start when it was time to head over to the start line. We got there in time to hit a porta potty and drop off some clothes at the bag drop, but just barely. I had, ahem, an extended stay in the porta potty and having forgotten that the race was going to go off at the unusual time of 6:50am caused us to get to the start line later than would be ideal. Amy and I nudged our way forward, but eventually were stopped from making forward progress in the middle of the 1:40 pacers. We weren't *that* far back from the start line, but there were still hundreds of people in front of us that would get in the way. There were wheelchairs, both push and self propelled, lined up on the right side of the road. This helped us advance a bit before the start, but ultimately created some congestion because the starting mat was effectively cut to half of the size. We were warned that if we crossed on the wrong side it would lead to not having a time. In the grand scheme of things, none of this was a big deal. After the race was started, Amy took the lead and was able to move through the crowd pretty well. I stayed right behind her until she got caught in a crowd that I was able to side step. I wished her well and took off.
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| Oops. |
There was some running room opening up now and then because of the wheeled participants. Thank you! Those gaps helped me get around a ton of people. Within a half mile or so the crowd thinned enough that I could run whatever pace I wanted to. I kept advancing through the crowd, probably faster than I should have. Apparently, I spent most of the second half of the first mile running sub 6 minute pace and at one point was running 5:30. Ooops. Mile 1, despite the early congestion, came in at 6:17. I was planning to run by feel and ignore my watch for most of the race, but I was glad to see this split because it helped calm me down. I wasn't going to place artificial limits on myself based on the pace but when I already felt like I was being dumb, seeing a pace that looked dumb gave me more confidence to concentrate on running comfortably hard instead.
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| MLK's Church @ mile 3.5 |
Now that there was clear road, I spent my energy trying to dial in what "comfortably hard" meant. The hills were clearly going to be a factor. Generally, they weren't that long or steep but they were relentless. It felt like we were constantly going up or down with no flat areas at all. Then there was mile 4 where there was twice as much uphill as downhill. Uh oh, sh!t might get real. I was still trying to run comfortably hard, but my mind started to imagine what might be coming next. Whenever there was a turn where I couldn't see around the corner I assumed that there would be an uphill run after the turn. There was. Every. Time. At least that is the way that it felt.
I drew strength from the knowledge that all of the weight lifting had made me stronger. I took comfort knowing that even if I haven't run many hills for a long while, I did have the strength to power through the uphill and take the beating on the down. I missed the split on my watch on almost every mile. I was curious what I was running but without knowing the course it didn't really matter. I didn't look at my heart rate at all. This is pretty unusual. I used to pace everything off of HR, but with some of the changes that have come from the training shift lately I didn't know what my half marathon heart rate should be any more so I opted for just running by feel. After all, if ignorance is bliss I might as well embrace it and enjoy the ride.
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| Julia's old 'hood |
I looked forward to mile 8. Mile 8 had been nicknamed Julia's mile after a fellow volunteer/RWOL/Strava friend from the Olympic Trials the day before. She used to live in Atlanta, but now has relocated to the Washington DC area. Julia's mile did not let me down. It was relatively flat with a slight downhill pitch most of the time. It felt glorious to be able to open my legs up and go without feeling like I was taking a beating. I reeled in some of the folks that had passed me on the earlier uphills during this section. The store fronts were very eclectic. I liked it!
From Julia's mile to the finish it was a grind. I had some people pass me. I passed others. Some that passed me got passed back, but overall I lost a few positions. I was daydreaming of nice flat predictable roads. It helped pass the time until the finish line appeared. I had enough left for a nice kick into the end. Unfortunately, someone from the 5k decided to hop the cones to get a clear path and cut me off. I almost ran her over. There was no contact, but I did lose touch with a young guy that would have been fun to race to the line. After I got to the timing mat, I stopped my watch and looked down to see what the result was. I literally had no idea what it would say. I had seen enough splits to expect that my pace was in the mid 6:30's, but what did that translate to again? I had avoided pace calculators leading up to the race because I didn't want to get caught in an expectations trap trying to squeeze the last minute out of the clock. 1:26:41 on a hard course? Score! My previous PR was a 1:27:55 from a very flat and fast Lake Effect Half Marathon in 2017 although I did run 1:27:29 during the first half of the Chicago Marathon last October. I guess I no longer need to wonder if the first half of a race can be considered a PR.
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| Bruce? |
I was happy with the result, but a few minutes later I started coughing and then I had trouble breathing. I was having an asthma attack. It was a very mild attack, but it was getting worse and I didn't have an inhaler with me. After a few minutes of it escalating, I went over to the medical tent. The second I stepped inside and felt the warm air I immediately had to turn around and get the heck out of there. The difference in air temperature was going to escalate my symptoms quickly. A physician followed me outside and tried to coax me back inside. I refused and explained why. They understood pretty quickly. I started my bizarre cold induced asthma cure. I started getting naked. Well, as naked as I could without getting in trouble. Ok, all I did was take my shirt off. I've noticed that it helps. I don't know the underlying physiology, but I've repeated this experiment enough times to be 100% convinced it works. 10 minutes later I felt really cold and my breathing was now fine. So, why do I have a random picture of a young woman next to this paragraph? Well, remember Where's Waldo? Yeah, that's me in the background coughing. When the race said this was a picture was of me, my initial reaction was, huh? That makes no sense...and then I saw it. I figured it was an action shot and should be included just like any other from the race. I wonder what "random woman" would think if she knew she was on a random stranger's blog? I hope she doesn't mind.
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| How far are we running? |
Amy ran a great time and after the race we reunited for a cool down. When she asked if I wanted to run I was thinking, "sure, why not." A mile or so might feel good. Amy had more in mind. We wound up running 2.5 miles together when I had to bail. We only averaged 10:45 pace but it felt harder than the race. I have no doubt Amy would have gone a lot faster and farther without me, but I was dying. Lesson learned, when someone asks you to run a cool down ask, "how far?" first. Don't just say yes. You never know what kind of trouble it might get you into.
