My two-week, post-marathon rest ends tomorrow. This was my carrot, my reward for weekly mileage in the 40s during December and January.
I can't say I've been chomping at the bit and absolutely jonesing to get back out there, but I *have* noticed that something is missing from my life. Something that's been there for a long time and is now a very big part of me. I've enjoyed some leisurely and coffee-filled mornings, but I'm ready to get back after it a little.
Besides-- I'm always five minutes behind, regardless of where I'm going or what I'm doing. Might as well get a run in.
The 5K and 10K race season is about to begin, so I'll try to take this new fitness and see what else I can accomplish. There is also the possibility of a half marathon in Tuscaloosa toward the end of March, which I may spend some time talking about later.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Miscellany
It's been a week after the marathon, and my body and my life have returned to some semblance of normalcy.
The only time when it was hard to move around or felt really stiff was right after the race, and in church Sunday evening. I slept in Monday, getting up around 8 a.m., and felt exponentially better, though still a little sore.
I spent some time talking about the race itself, so it's time to jot down a few details. I never trained while listening to music or podcasts, and I didn't run on race day either. I wanted to soak up the race day experience as much as possible. The down side to it all is that I look for something, anything to make the time go by. Usually, my Garmin takes care of a lot, providing numbers for my brain to play with. Obviously, there was a lot more going on.
I really enjoyed the entire race experience, even the soreness. As I mentioned earlier, I felt great for the first 15-16 miles or so. I'm a little bit of a talker, so I took time to banter with folks on the way. Asking drink stop-types if there was anything stronger; checking with warmly-dressed and blanketed spectators if they had any extra coffee; and thanking police officers whose only task was to stand there in the cold and direct traffic. It pleased me to hear many, many others thanking them as well.
One kid had a sign, maybe in the second or third mile or so that said,"touch sign for mojo" (or luck- don't remember). In retrospect, I wish I'd have touched it. This kind of support from spectators was very uplifting to me. It really meant a lot.
The course trotted us through the UAB campus and past Bartow Arena (where I've done some public address for women's sports), and also past St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, where our current priest worked previously. First time through, about 7:45, the famous red doors were closed and it seemed as though not a soul was there. Made me no difference. I crossed myself and prayed for a moment. The second time past, the red doors were open and welcoming. I didn't see anyone and I'm unfamiliar with their service times.
We passed through the Five Points district, and I recognized the Twenty-Six restaurant, where Ann and I ate lunch before a James Taylor concert. It's the place where I had some of the best macaroni and cheese I've ever had. Anyhow, I'm only familiar with driving traffic in this area, and the direction from where we came was unfamiliar, so I followed the crowd and kept on.
What I also remember about this area was more spectators rooting us on. There was a group of church people, including the pastor, cheering us on in support. I usually tried to wave at these folks, or clap at them as a soccer player on the pitch does, because it really meant a lot.
I remember a couple of older guys just parked on a couple of folding lawn chairs in their front yard who had a sign that said,"keep your try on," and "nice ass" on the bottom of it. I'm pretty sure they were a couple of the types who had a little something extra in their morning orange juice. I yakked with them both times I ran by. I just can't say enough about how big it was for me to have people to be out on a 20-something degree morning to watch a group of crazy people run a marathon.
I also took a look at a lot of people's feet, seeing as how it's part of my job. I recognized most of the brands people wore-- some Brooks, some Asics, some Mizuno, and surprisingly, I saw many Wave Rider 14s (which were not very popular), and a lot of others. It's one thing to look at folks' shoes at the mall, it's something else when the crowd you're in is all wearing running shoes.
I also tried to unwrap some cellophane from pieces of candy, failing miserably. The candy (mile 16) was wrapped as secure as Fort Knox and it took several minutes to get the job done. I also munched on a peanut butter granola bar (mile 18), dismissing decorum along the way. I needed fuel and was starting to climb the hills, so eating, running and breathing at the same time would normally have made for quite a scene, but I had hit the wall by this point, so I paid no mind to my bad manners.
I also managed to pose for the crowd as I approached the finish-- a couple of Hulkamania poses. It's my hope that pictures exist, because these were the few moments that I had worked my ass off for. It was worth every mile.
I've tried to put this in some type of order, yet I know this is still pretty random. This was a special day for me and I want to remember as much as possible.
I've taken the entire week off, and am in the middle of the second, so as to give myself more of a mental break. There are no marathons in my future, but I'm still a member of The Athlete's Foot team and there are some race possibilities in the near future, so I need to keep my fitness level up.
The only time when it was hard to move around or felt really stiff was right after the race, and in church Sunday evening. I slept in Monday, getting up around 8 a.m., and felt exponentially better, though still a little sore.
I spent some time talking about the race itself, so it's time to jot down a few details. I never trained while listening to music or podcasts, and I didn't run on race day either. I wanted to soak up the race day experience as much as possible. The down side to it all is that I look for something, anything to make the time go by. Usually, my Garmin takes care of a lot, providing numbers for my brain to play with. Obviously, there was a lot more going on.
I really enjoyed the entire race experience, even the soreness. As I mentioned earlier, I felt great for the first 15-16 miles or so. I'm a little bit of a talker, so I took time to banter with folks on the way. Asking drink stop-types if there was anything stronger; checking with warmly-dressed and blanketed spectators if they had any extra coffee; and thanking police officers whose only task was to stand there in the cold and direct traffic. It pleased me to hear many, many others thanking them as well.
One kid had a sign, maybe in the second or third mile or so that said,"touch sign for mojo" (or luck- don't remember). In retrospect, I wish I'd have touched it. This kind of support from spectators was very uplifting to me. It really meant a lot.
The course trotted us through the UAB campus and past Bartow Arena (where I've done some public address for women's sports), and also past St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, where our current priest worked previously. First time through, about 7:45, the famous red doors were closed and it seemed as though not a soul was there. Made me no difference. I crossed myself and prayed for a moment. The second time past, the red doors were open and welcoming. I didn't see anyone and I'm unfamiliar with their service times.
We passed through the Five Points district, and I recognized the Twenty-Six restaurant, where Ann and I ate lunch before a James Taylor concert. It's the place where I had some of the best macaroni and cheese I've ever had. Anyhow, I'm only familiar with driving traffic in this area, and the direction from where we came was unfamiliar, so I followed the crowd and kept on.
What I also remember about this area was more spectators rooting us on. There was a group of church people, including the pastor, cheering us on in support. I usually tried to wave at these folks, or clap at them as a soccer player on the pitch does, because it really meant a lot.
I remember a couple of older guys just parked on a couple of folding lawn chairs in their front yard who had a sign that said,"keep your try on," and "nice ass" on the bottom of it. I'm pretty sure they were a couple of the types who had a little something extra in their morning orange juice. I yakked with them both times I ran by. I just can't say enough about how big it was for me to have people to be out on a 20-something degree morning to watch a group of crazy people run a marathon.
I also took a look at a lot of people's feet, seeing as how it's part of my job. I recognized most of the brands people wore-- some Brooks, some Asics, some Mizuno, and surprisingly, I saw many Wave Rider 14s (which were not very popular), and a lot of others. It's one thing to look at folks' shoes at the mall, it's something else when the crowd you're in is all wearing running shoes.
I also tried to unwrap some cellophane from pieces of candy, failing miserably. The candy (mile 16) was wrapped as secure as Fort Knox and it took several minutes to get the job done. I also munched on a peanut butter granola bar (mile 18), dismissing decorum along the way. I needed fuel and was starting to climb the hills, so eating, running and breathing at the same time would normally have made for quite a scene, but I had hit the wall by this point, so I paid no mind to my bad manners.
I also managed to pose for the crowd as I approached the finish-- a couple of Hulkamania poses. It's my hope that pictures exist, because these were the few moments that I had worked my ass off for. It was worth every mile.
I've tried to put this in some type of order, yet I know this is still pretty random. This was a special day for me and I want to remember as much as possible.
I've taken the entire week off, and am in the middle of the second, so as to give myself more of a mental break. There are no marathons in my future, but I'm still a member of The Athlete's Foot team and there are some race possibilities in the near future, so I need to keep my fitness level up.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Obviously, Sunday was a pretty eventful day for me. Time to break it all down. I don't expect to include everything, but I'll try. Besides-- if I forget it now, it's a post at some point down the line.
The morning started at 4:05 when the alarm went off. For breakfast-- cup and a half of coffee, a bagel and some Gatorade. We got out of the house about 5:30 for the drive into Birmingham. It's pretty amazing the time you can make when you hit a few traffic lights. Well, that and the fact there was no traffic.
I'll stop for a moment to tell you what a wonderful person my wife is. She got up and drove into town with me and had the prospect of not much to do for a long while. She's also been so supportive of my marathon effort and all the training that went into it. I can't thank her enough.
We got into the neighborhood a little before 6:30, so there was time to find a lucky parking spot, get my bag checked and hunt for a bathroom that didn't have a line. The search started inside the auditorium but wound up in line for the porta-hooters. I made it into the starting corral with about five minutes to spare. Uniform of the day: two layers on top, long-sleeved top, shirt sleeves underneath and arm warmers comprising the second layer. Band-aids were also deployed on my nipples. Below the belt, my standard running tights and wind pants. And Body Glide. I had some ankle-high black Feetures socks and my Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12 shoes with sof-sole inserts.
There was such an incredible vibe at the start-- it took a few minutes to get to the actual start (chip timing), so there was a chance to soak it up a little. A chance to think about the end of over 12 weeks of training and all the work I put in. To think about what I was about to do. It was pretty heavy.
My first goal was to finish. This is what my friends all told me I should focus on first. Second, break four hours. Thirdly, I hoped to do 3:49 or better. You'll find out how I did soon enough.
The first few miles were uneventful. There were lots of half-marathoners (about five times as many as marathoners), so traffic was pretty dense for a long time. I also took Powerade at several stops, which was a logistical hassle, what with traffic and spilled liquid freezing on the roads on a 20-something degree morning.
I was feeling pretty good for a long time, not wanting to go out too fast. Thanking police officers (I saw a lot of this all morning) and bantering a little. I tried to stay slow in the early going, but my half-mile splits had me below 9:30 pace after mile five. This was not according to plan, since I wanted to go out a little slower. It was hard to hear my watch to see my splits, due to the quantity of people, and also because I heard so many Garmin watches beeping, I couldn't tell which was mine. I wanted to keep it slow until about mile 8 or 9. So I went out too fast.
The first pee stop happened at about mile 9.5, and I caught a break, as I had just passed it by and saw a door open. That notwithstanding, Every half-mile split was below 4:30 from 8.5 through 14.5. The first batch of hills did not really impress me. They should have, as I would pay later.
So I felt pretty good for most of the back stretch on the first half. It was a bit of a dagger to see mile markers for 22-23-24-25, though, knowing so much work was ahead.
The last drink stop of the first half had gummi bears, and I couldn't say no, especially to a nine year-old girl. So I tried to take a handful on the run, but only got two. The 13.1 split was just over two hours. Slower than I wanted, since I thought 1:55 would be nice, and help with a negative split. I found the First Lady and gave her a quick kiss and started the rest of the race.
There was a two-minute potty stop at mile 15, but we kept after it. I felt bad for the person who dropped their sunglasses on the deck in there. I left them be.
My half-mile splits started to slow not long after-- 4:42, 4:52, 4:38 and 4:49. The walking started not long after. I just couldn't run anymore. Most of the walking was in the hilly 18-23 area-- the neighborhood I disrespected earlier. I had a granola bar at 18, and decorum went out the window, eating with my mouth open and all, but I needed food since my bagel was long gone. But after a while, it was easier to run, since it was too painful to start running from a walk.
There were several walk breaks, the last at about mile 24, at which time I heard what sounded like a herd of buffalo. Turned out to be the 4:15 pace group. That did it. I stepped on what was left of my accelerator and took off. That, and it started to hit me-- what I was about to accomplish. It's funny what smelling the finish line will do. Three of my last four splits were below 9:30 per mile, so that's telling in a few different ways. There was a group of about eight or nine girls all holding motivational signs at about 25.5-- helpful on the first trip around, absolutely critical on the way in. It's where the "pain is temporary..." quote comes from.
Also toward the very end, I turned my race number toward the front. I had mine on a belt and ran with it on my hip most of the way, but I swung it around and tucked my shirt in just in case. Turned out to be a good tactic, since they announced my name as I headed toward the finish. I had run for the previous mile and a half, but I managed a few flexes/poses for the crowd. I wasn't quite so sore right then.
Then I crossed the finish line. 26.2 miles. 4:12:35 of my life. Someone hung a finisher's medal around my neck, and I set about trying to find the wife amongst the crowd. This is when I realized how sore I was. I had to keep walking-- I couldn't stop or sit down or anything. The restart would've been disastrous. The medal didn't weigh anything at this point. After about 20 minutes, the First Lady appeared-- the only person with whom I wanted to share this. I was so happy to see her. It was only after I discovered the value of oranges that I felt like my legs would someday be normal again. We sat on some steps in the park for a bit, until I started shaking from the cold and from the exertion. This was the cue to go to get my bag and change into some dry clothes and get fed.
So that's the marathon story. There are a lot of things I still want to share about the rest of my day, like the words of encouragement and congratulations from my Facebook friends, signs I saw, the volunteers giving their time and the people sitting in their yard encouraging us on a cold and early morning (some of whom had coffee, others something stronger-- I was jealous on both counts). It meant a whole lot and I'll try to get that point across.
The morning started at 4:05 when the alarm went off. For breakfast-- cup and a half of coffee, a bagel and some Gatorade. We got out of the house about 5:30 for the drive into Birmingham. It's pretty amazing the time you can make when you hit a few traffic lights. Well, that and the fact there was no traffic.
I'll stop for a moment to tell you what a wonderful person my wife is. She got up and drove into town with me and had the prospect of not much to do for a long while. She's also been so supportive of my marathon effort and all the training that went into it. I can't thank her enough.
We got into the neighborhood a little before 6:30, so there was time to find a lucky parking spot, get my bag checked and hunt for a bathroom that didn't have a line. The search started inside the auditorium but wound up in line for the porta-hooters. I made it into the starting corral with about five minutes to spare. Uniform of the day: two layers on top, long-sleeved top, shirt sleeves underneath and arm warmers comprising the second layer. Band-aids were also deployed on my nipples. Below the belt, my standard running tights and wind pants. And Body Glide. I had some ankle-high black Feetures socks and my Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12 shoes with sof-sole inserts.
There was such an incredible vibe at the start-- it took a few minutes to get to the actual start (chip timing), so there was a chance to soak it up a little. A chance to think about the end of over 12 weeks of training and all the work I put in. To think about what I was about to do. It was pretty heavy.
My first goal was to finish. This is what my friends all told me I should focus on first. Second, break four hours. Thirdly, I hoped to do 3:49 or better. You'll find out how I did soon enough.
The first few miles were uneventful. There were lots of half-marathoners (about five times as many as marathoners), so traffic was pretty dense for a long time. I also took Powerade at several stops, which was a logistical hassle, what with traffic and spilled liquid freezing on the roads on a 20-something degree morning.
I was feeling pretty good for a long time, not wanting to go out too fast. Thanking police officers (I saw a lot of this all morning) and bantering a little. I tried to stay slow in the early going, but my half-mile splits had me below 9:30 pace after mile five. This was not according to plan, since I wanted to go out a little slower. It was hard to hear my watch to see my splits, due to the quantity of people, and also because I heard so many Garmin watches beeping, I couldn't tell which was mine. I wanted to keep it slow until about mile 8 or 9. So I went out too fast.
The first pee stop happened at about mile 9.5, and I caught a break, as I had just passed it by and saw a door open. That notwithstanding, Every half-mile split was below 4:30 from 8.5 through 14.5. The first batch of hills did not really impress me. They should have, as I would pay later.
So I felt pretty good for most of the back stretch on the first half. It was a bit of a dagger to see mile markers for 22-23-24-25, though, knowing so much work was ahead.
The last drink stop of the first half had gummi bears, and I couldn't say no, especially to a nine year-old girl. So I tried to take a handful on the run, but only got two. The 13.1 split was just over two hours. Slower than I wanted, since I thought 1:55 would be nice, and help with a negative split. I found the First Lady and gave her a quick kiss and started the rest of the race.
There was a two-minute potty stop at mile 15, but we kept after it. I felt bad for the person who dropped their sunglasses on the deck in there. I left them be.
My half-mile splits started to slow not long after-- 4:42, 4:52, 4:38 and 4:49. The walking started not long after. I just couldn't run anymore. Most of the walking was in the hilly 18-23 area-- the neighborhood I disrespected earlier. I had a granola bar at 18, and decorum went out the window, eating with my mouth open and all, but I needed food since my bagel was long gone. But after a while, it was easier to run, since it was too painful to start running from a walk.
There were several walk breaks, the last at about mile 24, at which time I heard what sounded like a herd of buffalo. Turned out to be the 4:15 pace group. That did it. I stepped on what was left of my accelerator and took off. That, and it started to hit me-- what I was about to accomplish. It's funny what smelling the finish line will do. Three of my last four splits were below 9:30 per mile, so that's telling in a few different ways. There was a group of about eight or nine girls all holding motivational signs at about 25.5-- helpful on the first trip around, absolutely critical on the way in. It's where the "pain is temporary..." quote comes from.
Also toward the very end, I turned my race number toward the front. I had mine on a belt and ran with it on my hip most of the way, but I swung it around and tucked my shirt in just in case. Turned out to be a good tactic, since they announced my name as I headed toward the finish. I had run for the previous mile and a half, but I managed a few flexes/poses for the crowd. I wasn't quite so sore right then.
Then I crossed the finish line. 26.2 miles. 4:12:35 of my life. Someone hung a finisher's medal around my neck, and I set about trying to find the wife amongst the crowd. This is when I realized how sore I was. I had to keep walking-- I couldn't stop or sit down or anything. The restart would've been disastrous. The medal didn't weigh anything at this point. After about 20 minutes, the First Lady appeared-- the only person with whom I wanted to share this. I was so happy to see her. It was only after I discovered the value of oranges that I felt like my legs would someday be normal again. We sat on some steps in the park for a bit, until I started shaking from the cold and from the exertion. This was the cue to go to get my bag and change into some dry clothes and get fed.
So that's the marathon story. There are a lot of things I still want to share about the rest of my day, like the words of encouragement and congratulations from my Facebook friends, signs I saw, the volunteers giving their time and the people sitting in their yard encouraging us on a cold and early morning (some of whom had coffee, others something stronger-- I was jealous on both counts). It meant a whole lot and I'll try to get that point across.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Marathon Man
It's been a long day and I'm finally at the end of it, so a quick note to share that I finished the Mercedes-Benz Marathon in 4:12:35, on a bright, sunshiny day with temps in the low 20s at the start. The pace averaged out to 9:39 per mile.
I'll go into full detail in a day or two, but I did pretty well until about mile 15 or 16, when I started taking on water and walked several times on the back stretch.
My finisher's swag:
Pain is temporary. Pride is forever. These words kept me going over the last few miles. What a feeling of accomplishment.
I'll go into full detail in a day or two, but I did pretty well until about mile 15 or 16, when I started taking on water and walked several times on the back stretch.
My finisher's swag:
Pain is temporary. Pride is forever. These words kept me going over the last few miles. What a feeling of accomplishment.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
The Day Before
The race is less than 12 hours away, and I'm pretty anxious about the race. Everything has been laid out for tomorrow morning's marathon. Carbs have been loaded, I've completed my training and I've never been in better shape. There is literally nothing to do but wait.
We stopped at the race expo a little before 11 today. I think the race capped at 1400, but the auditorium for packet pickup was pretty crowded. Part of it was because there was a kids 5K that had just wrapped up. So I grabbed my stuff, checked my timing chip and proceeded to case the joint. I was expecting to see a lot of bargains on socks and shirts and what not, and I did pick up a cotton race t-shirt (the shirt in the goody bag is a tech shirt), but didn't really find much of what I was looking for, so I put money back in my wallet.
I did see a few of the shoe reps that come to the store on occasion, and I was a little surprised that they remembered me as well.
So I've pretty much parked on the couch for rest since then. My biggest concern is the weather. After having such nice weather for training, the temperature is expected to be in the low 20s at start and low 30s at the finish. I'll dress in layers and peel away as needed. It won't be as cold as the half marathon I ran in Abilene, Kansas in April, 2006, but it'll be close.
I also find myself thinking. Thinking about all the kids that called me fat in school. About all the other things I could do if I set my mind to it. About people who can't run. About the math teacher in Montana who was killed on one of her morning runs. About friends who have it worse than me. Normally I would be in Sunday School and in church, but I've chosen to run tomorrow instead. I hope to spend some time pondering these things.
Well, off to bed. An early morning and a huge challenge are in front of us.
We stopped at the race expo a little before 11 today. I think the race capped at 1400, but the auditorium for packet pickup was pretty crowded. Part of it was because there was a kids 5K that had just wrapped up. So I grabbed my stuff, checked my timing chip and proceeded to case the joint. I was expecting to see a lot of bargains on socks and shirts and what not, and I did pick up a cotton race t-shirt (the shirt in the goody bag is a tech shirt), but didn't really find much of what I was looking for, so I put money back in my wallet.
I did see a few of the shoe reps that come to the store on occasion, and I was a little surprised that they remembered me as well.
So I've pretty much parked on the couch for rest since then. My biggest concern is the weather. After having such nice weather for training, the temperature is expected to be in the low 20s at start and low 30s at the finish. I'll dress in layers and peel away as needed. It won't be as cold as the half marathon I ran in Abilene, Kansas in April, 2006, but it'll be close.
I also find myself thinking. Thinking about all the kids that called me fat in school. About all the other things I could do if I set my mind to it. About people who can't run. About the math teacher in Montana who was killed on one of her morning runs. About friends who have it worse than me. Normally I would be in Sunday School and in church, but I've chosen to run tomorrow instead. I hope to spend some time pondering these things.
Well, off to bed. An early morning and a huge challenge are in front of us.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Slide on the Ice
I've finished my training for the February 12 Mercedes-Benz Marathon in Birmingham. All my training runs are complete, and I'm taking today and Saturday off.
I'm very pleased with how everything went-- the schedule ran completely through the holidays and involved a road trip just after the first of the year, and I only missed one scheduled day. Other runs had to get reworked or shortened, but I also ran two 20-milers in preparation. I also don't know where the time has gone. Seems like not long ago that I ponied up money for this race at the end of October.
We live an hour away, in Tuscaloosa. I plan to wake up at 4 am and leave at 5, so we can arrive at 6 for the 7 am start Sunday. My wife plans to come along, and she will see me off, but I think she'll find a hot breakfast somewhere and a place to read. And with temperatures expected in the mid-20s, I'd say she's got it figured out.
I've spent a lot of time the last several days visiting with some running friends, getting a little reassurance and a little counseling. My friends all seem to think I'm ready, and the thing I worry least about is my training, since I followed my plan and hit most of my splits and what not. The course shows a few hills, but the elevation chart, in my opinion, seems more frightening than the road does. I don't underestimate the hills, but I don't fear them at this point.
What I now think about most is what to do during the race. Fueling, mostly. I pretty much agree with my friend Tommy who says that we don't have enough information to know what will happen. I can infer and make educated guesses based on my 20-mile runs, but everything is pretty much an unknown. I plan to drink often and hit the Gu when it's offered, roughly every fourth stop on the double-loop course. Sipping works best instead of killing 20 ounces at once, since it leads to bathroom stops.
I also think about the last six miles. How will they feel? How will I feel when I get there? And I think I have my shoe questions worked out, but that's another question mark.
We'll head into town tomorrow for the race expo to pick up my race packet and cruise the booths for a little bit, then head home for a chance to relax and head to bed early.
This all reminds me of something Allan Arbus' character, Dr. Sidney Freedman, said in the TV series M*A*S*H:
"Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice."
I can't really logically explain how this phrase speaks to me, but it does. Not necessarily to take a chance or to take risks, though I have certainly done both. But more to just go for it, relax, and let my training take over.
T-minus 45 hours and two sleeps until race day.
I'm very pleased with how everything went-- the schedule ran completely through the holidays and involved a road trip just after the first of the year, and I only missed one scheduled day. Other runs had to get reworked or shortened, but I also ran two 20-milers in preparation. I also don't know where the time has gone. Seems like not long ago that I ponied up money for this race at the end of October.
We live an hour away, in Tuscaloosa. I plan to wake up at 4 am and leave at 5, so we can arrive at 6 for the 7 am start Sunday. My wife plans to come along, and she will see me off, but I think she'll find a hot breakfast somewhere and a place to read. And with temperatures expected in the mid-20s, I'd say she's got it figured out.
I've spent a lot of time the last several days visiting with some running friends, getting a little reassurance and a little counseling. My friends all seem to think I'm ready, and the thing I worry least about is my training, since I followed my plan and hit most of my splits and what not. The course shows a few hills, but the elevation chart, in my opinion, seems more frightening than the road does. I don't underestimate the hills, but I don't fear them at this point.
What I now think about most is what to do during the race. Fueling, mostly. I pretty much agree with my friend Tommy who says that we don't have enough information to know what will happen. I can infer and make educated guesses based on my 20-mile runs, but everything is pretty much an unknown. I plan to drink often and hit the Gu when it's offered, roughly every fourth stop on the double-loop course. Sipping works best instead of killing 20 ounces at once, since it leads to bathroom stops.
I also think about the last six miles. How will they feel? How will I feel when I get there? And I think I have my shoe questions worked out, but that's another question mark.
We'll head into town tomorrow for the race expo to pick up my race packet and cruise the booths for a little bit, then head home for a chance to relax and head to bed early.
This all reminds me of something Allan Arbus' character, Dr. Sidney Freedman, said in the TV series M*A*S*H:
"Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice."
I can't really logically explain how this phrase speaks to me, but it does. Not necessarily to take a chance or to take risks, though I have certainly done both. But more to just go for it, relax, and let my training take over.
T-minus 45 hours and two sleeps until race day.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Fork in the Road
For the last three years, the First Lady and I have reserved the first weekend in February for a church retreat north of Jasper, Alabama. It's a terrific weekend and we enjoy spending time with our friends.
I ran here last year, bagging a five-miler in some chilly conditions, and I brought my Adrenaline 11s for a scheduled eight-miler, lacing up and taking off around 1:15 pm. The terrain is unspectacular for the most part, with one exception:
This fork separates the road to the girls cabins from the road to the boys cabins. There's also a pretty serious downhill on either side, and conversely, the uphill was a challenge. I needed eight miles and had to add distance however I could, so I went down and up twice. With not a lot of camp road to work with, I ran to the camp entrance (Alabama 195) and back a few times. Pretty dull, except for the rain that started about halfway through. I wound up getting a pretty good soak, but I kept my tempo pace of 8:15 for six miles pretty well. Thankfully the temperatures were mild.
So that was the last run of any sizable distance before the marathon. This week is 3-4-3-3, with some intervals during the four-miler. I ran this morning's three-miler in my Adrenaline 12s and had no foot pain as I've had the last three weeks. The thing is, these are the shoes that just made my feet hurt during the 16-miler.
We'll get these things figured out. T-minus five days until I toe the line.
I ran here last year, bagging a five-miler in some chilly conditions, and I brought my Adrenaline 11s for a scheduled eight-miler, lacing up and taking off around 1:15 pm. The terrain is unspectacular for the most part, with one exception:
This fork separates the road to the girls cabins from the road to the boys cabins. There's also a pretty serious downhill on either side, and conversely, the uphill was a challenge. I needed eight miles and had to add distance however I could, so I went down and up twice. With not a lot of camp road to work with, I ran to the camp entrance (Alabama 195) and back a few times. Pretty dull, except for the rain that started about halfway through. I wound up getting a pretty good soak, but I kept my tempo pace of 8:15 for six miles pretty well. Thankfully the temperatures were mild.
So that was the last run of any sizable distance before the marathon. This week is 3-4-3-3, with some intervals during the four-miler. I ran this morning's three-miler in my Adrenaline 12s and had no foot pain as I've had the last three weeks. The thing is, these are the shoes that just made my feet hurt during the 16-miler.
We'll get these things figured out. T-minus five days until I toe the line.
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