Post Marathon-Week 4

Sunday
1500 yards in pool, then hit pavement about 11:00 p.m. for quick four miler.

Besides the suffocating heat, and a gallon of sweat soaking through my shoes, it was nice to run outside.

Saturday
8 miler with 3 x 800 gradual hills. Slowed pace down my 15 sec / mile, made big difference. Still sweated through shoes, but breathing a lot less labored.

For long runs, drop it down 20-30 sec / mile, should allow me to go out to 15.

Friday
Up at 5:15, on mill at 5:30 to beat heat. Wanted to do 11, but 90% humidity made it hard to breath; it's like training at altitude. Did 7.

Cross Train: 60 minutes on stationary bike.

Thursday
Cross train: 15 on bike, 1500 yards in pool

Wednesday
Six miler.

Tuesday
Tried to do 11 at lunch, made it to 3. Tried to do 11 at night, made it to four.
Heat brutal. I'm way overweight.

Need to spend next 4 weeks reducing mileage and upping (big time) fat burning cross training. Then do five weeks hard running.

Monday
Five miler

Post Marathon-Week 3

Ran one day, 9 on Tuesday.

Ate at French bakery twice. Went out of town, ate three times as much as normal indian, greek, and chinese food.

Start new cycle Monday.

Post Marathon-Week 2

Sunday
11 miler

Saturday
I tried to do 10, quit at four, couldn't breath. I'm 75% sure that I'm going to skip a fall marathon. Really Serious. I run to PR, if I can't train to do that, I'm not interested.

Friday
6.5 miles durning lunch and an hour of cross traning (bike / swim) in the afternoon.

Thursday
Off

Wednesday
Hour of cross training during lunch and a 6 miler a night

Tuesday
Off

Monday
7 miler

Post Marathon-Week One

Ran one day, Saturday five miles. Felt OK.

I've been eating like a pig (pizza, ice cream, pastries, and everything else), and drinking bottles of wine. It's been nice, but time to get back to work next week.

I have committed to experimenting this cycle. Running six a days a week (high 60 miles) this summer is not attractive. I would risk it if the weather was guaranteed to be cold in September at the Wisconsin Fox Cities Marathon. But it could easily be 60s to 70s, even though they say average start temperature is 46 (heard that before).

No, I'm cutting my mileage down this cycle to high fifties / low sixties but adding cross training. I join local gym for swimming and biking. Well see how it progresses.

Marathon #11-Newport Oregon

Newport, Oregon

May 30, 2009

 

            This was my third serious effort to run a sub 3:10.  For my first attempt, at the Marine Corp marathon last fall, I didn't miss a single training run in the entire cycle.  I was in top shape and my weight was perfect.  However, like most my races, the day's weather was hotter than the seasonal average.  I fell off the 3:10 pace at mile 18; though by mile nine I knew it wasn't going to happen.

 

            I tried again at the Phoenix marathon in January.  With a flat course and dry desert air, I held a 3:10 pace all the way to mile 23 before faltering, although I did salvage a 3:13:20 PR.  I concluded that if it had been either 10 degrees cooler, or if I been five pounds lighter, I would have made it.  Not able to control the former, I decided to focus on the latter in preparation for this marathon.

 

I soon discovered that regarding the latter, I didn't have much control either, well self-control.  I live an ascetic existence during a normal 12 week training cycle, and therefore allow myself a week or two of culinary hedonism after each marathon.  I gorge on double cheeseburgers, pizza, pastries, beer, and two or three bottles of wine.  And that's just what I consume at the airport flying home from a race.

 

            I try to hold the weight gain down to five pounds, but this post race cycle coincided with the start of tax season.  With the extra stress and work, I continued to eat poorly and the five pounds soon became ten.  I immediately felt the effects when starting this cycle.  After long runs, I had muscle strain.  Speed workouts were worse; for half the cycle I was on the verge of shin-splints, which I haven't experienced in years.

 

            I was eventually able to loose the extra-extra five pounds I carried, but not the original extra five.  By race week, I was the same weight as in Phoenix.   Coincidentally, the weather projection was about the same.  Gun time temperatures were forecasted to be 50 degrees, however with significantly more humidity than Phoenix.  On the plus side, there was a thick fog forecasted from sunrise to 8:30 a.m. 

 

            All in all, I was doubtful about reaching sub 3:10.  But there was still hope, mostly tied to the course.  The race website stated, "Is our course really that flat? It really is! Almost half of our finishers record P.R.'s."  But conspicuously absent for the website was the standard hill elevation profile. 

            "Is it true a world record was set on our course? Yes, it is. Herb Phillips ... ran a 2:47:28 in 2004 breaking the single age (63) World Record (2:48)"

 

            But the most salient endorsement was from Runner's World magazine.  Of the top ten courses producing the most Boston qualifiers (BQ), Newport was listed as fourth.  In prior years, an astonishing 25% of participants ran their BQ time; the national average is 7%.  However, it would be revealed that the small town of Newport was concealing a deceitful little secret.

 

            We discovered the first clue the day before the race.  Though the majority of the course went out and back along a highway hugging a riverbank, the first four miles snaked through the town streets.  As my running mates and I drove around town, we encountered several rolling hills.  Some were only 10 feet, a couple others about 30 feet or so.  The heights aren't themselves bad, but the slopes were relatively steep.  The infamous Heartbreak Hill in Boston is 70 feet, but stretched out over 800 yards. However, it's just as fatiguing to tackle a 30 foot rise that crests in 150 yards.

 

Our puzzled self-queries began, "I think we run up this hill, isn't this Olive street?" Around a few more turns, "To get to the highway, don't we have to go over that hill there?"  In each case, we assumed we were reading the map incorrectly.  However, the true answer to the course's spectacular results wasn't revealed until we boarded the shuttle bus on race morning; it's one we never would have suspected.

 

"I can't believe how many turns there are through town," said a runner two seats behind me.

"They added some streets to make the course longer this year," said the one adjacent to him.

 

"Longer?! You're kidding."

            "No. They recertified the course this year and found it was short."

 

The Race Director confessed all the details at the post race awards ceremony.  To be a Boston qualifier, you have to recertify the course every ten years.  This was the 11^th annual Newport marathon.   When they remeasured, they found it was 4/10^th of a mile short.  Then with a cheeky grin the Director said, "Well, we suspected it for years as every other runner across the finish line would say, 'Hey, my GPS watch wasn't working."

 

4/10^th doesn't sound like much, but it equates to 3-6 minutes depending on your speed.  The majority of Boston qualifiers barely make it with just one or two minutes to spare; this explained the incredible high BQ percentage in prior years.  "Prior" being the keyword as this year's participates now faced the full monty.

 

So there I stood 20 feet from the start line:  Five pounds too heavy, completely warm just wearing a half-cut tanktop, and headed towards an array of rolling hills.  "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" The gun fired and we were off.

 

            At mile one, 10 seconds off pace.  Over a few more rolling hills and at mile two, 15 seconds off pace.  Up a steep 30 footer, and breathing a little hard at mile three.  Over the last steep hill at four and onto the highway not feeling very sanguine.

 

            At mile five I caught a break.  This course section drew near a hill covered with towering trees.  They completely blocked out the sun and I cooled off a little bit, and came back on pace.  My stride relaxed, and at mile eight I was 20 seconds head of pace.

 

            However by ten, the sun rose and cleared the trees.  A running mate told me after the race that it was about this point when he said to a third Houston running mate, "I bet Dave is cursing the weather right now."  I replied, "What a coincidence; I told myself at that point that John is probably telling Pete, 'Dave is probably cursing the weather.'," which I was.

 

            At the halfway mark, I was 45 seconds ahead of pace and exactly where I wanted to be on time.  However, my enthusiasm was nowhere near where I hoped it would be.  Ideally, you hit the midway mark feeling comfortable, and then you get a mental boost as you focus going toward the finish.

 

            Instead, I was suffering and fairly sure by 16, I'd be toast.  I tossed my shirt at 14.  The wind was a light eight miles an hour at my back.  As I was running 8 miles/hr forward, the net effect was a stuffy and hot air, and I was dehydrating.

 

At 15 I rounded the U-turn to the other side of the road heading back towards town.  Painful muscle cramps developed in my right leg.  The tightness on just one side was mostly caused by the significant slope to the road.  Unless you were running on the center line, your body was slanted slightly to one side.  However, my breathing was also a major factor.  I tend to lean forward at the waist when my breathing is off rhythm.  This also increased the strain on my quads as my legs worked harder to keep my body upright.

 

            At mile 16, I passed by John and Pete who were at mile 14 headed in the opposite direction.  John yelled, "Looking good DJ."  "On pace but hurting," I yelled back.  In fact, I was ready to throw in the towel.  But there's nowhere to hide on a marathon course.  If you call it a day on a 5-10k run, you're probably one or two miles away from where you parked your car.  After a 15 minute walk, you can be heading home.  If you step off a marathon course at the midway point, you have a 2 to 3 hour walk back.

 

            With no other options, I decided to push on to 18.  Still hanging on at 18, I committed to gutting it up another mile, maybe two.  Halfway to 19, my outlook unexpectedly changed.  The course turned directly into the light north wind.  This significantly improved my breathing, which helped me to get vertical; this in turn alleviated some stress on my legs.

 

            I couldn't believe that at mile 20, I was still on pace.  However I was quickly loosing the mental fight after being worn down by the course's midsection.  My goal was to hold on a little farther than in Phoenix, maybe to mile 24.

 

            At mile 22 I was still on pace, but I finally capitulated a half mile later.  As I limped along for the next three miles, I had no idea that I would cross the finish line just 6 seconds short of setting a new PR.

 

            I finished in 3:13:26, placing 59^th out of 685 finishers.

 

As far as not making 3:10, I can only say that if it had been either 10 degrees cooler, or if I been five pounds lighter, I would have made it.  My real frustration was failing to set a PR.  Running 15 seconds faster wouldn't have meant much.  Rather, I am disappointed that I didn't stay positive during the middle third.  Had I focused more positively, I could have shaved another minute or so from my time.

 

I did have the consolation of receiving a plaque at the awards ceremony, 3^rd place in the Hercules division.  At 6'2" and 185, most people scoff when I lament about how fat I am.  Some make comments of concern, like when my Mother ran into my neighbor at the grocery store, "Bruce said you look too thin; he said you look sick."

 

But I am a good 20-30 pounds heavier than the vast majority of runners in my time class.  Often this is because I'm 3-6 inches taller than they are.  But many are my height, just beanpole thin.  Some marathons have a division recognizing the extra challenge for us "big" guys, which is usually termed the Clydesdale class.  Newport used a kinder moniker, the "Hercules" division.

 

To qualify, you had to weigh 190+ at packet pickup.  My normal training weight is 185.  But with super carbbing and hydration during the preceding days, I thought I might make it.  When I expressed doubt about being a couple pounds too light 30 minutes prior to stepping on the scale, Pete suggested I drink a gallon of water to be safe.  Lucky that I downed a half-gallon water picture, as I made it with only one-half pound to spare, 190.50 lbs.

 

  I had a good chance to win, as last year's results showed a 3:16 for Hercules 1^st place (and that was on the short course).  The guy who won this year was thinner than I, but 6'4" and weighed in at 192.  Supporting my contention that I'm too heavy, he too had a sub 3:10 goal, but fell short by 3 seconds (3:10:03).

 

Well, I'm still convinced I will run a sub 3:10 in next few months.  I'll be in Wisconsin in September.