Well, I did it again. I participated in the Hartford Half-Marathon this past Saturday in spite of the devastating results last year. Truth be told, the events of last year in the rain did not deter me from entering races this year, with the Big One coming up in less than three weeks. That’s right, yours truly is heading to New York to run in the ING NYC Marathon. The full marathon, all 26.2, and running in Hartford for the half-marathon is a nice way to tune up.
Of course, in order to tune up you need to train. I managed to get through the entire summer this year without anything derailing my training plans. No new babies (that I know of), no minor surgeries, just good fortune. I have put in about 600 miles in training over the past six months or so, just hoping that the extra miles and the lessons learned from last year will be enough to carry me. This year was a stark contrast to last, as everything, and I mean everything, went right. I do not know how else to explain it, but it was one of those days where everything fell right into place, as even the smallest details were in my favor.
Over the past year I have acquired many running aids, such as a GPS device, an iPod, sunglasses, special shoes, special socks and each one of them would come into play on this day. I would like to think that the GPS, along with general running experience, was what pushed me over the top this year. It was an amazing experience to say the least, and one that could not have been possible without the support of a very loving and understanding family.
The day started out different, as we spent the night with Suzanne’s parents, making it easier for them to watch the kids while we spent the morning at the race. I got up around 6AM and proceeded to make myself some breakfast. A bagel-egg-corned beef hash sandwich. I have no idea how many calories was in that thing so let’s just say it was enough. I had done the same thing the previous Sunday before a 12-mile training run, so I knew that it was enough food, and not too much. Truthfully, I had to push down that last few bites, as I think I was still full from the night before. After breakfast I grabbed a banana to go and we hopped in the car.
After getting ready at the fitness center we walked over to the start and I started to eat the banana as we were about 30 minutes from the starting time. Immediately I got a sense that things would be very different this year. First, the sun was shining, enough said. It was a little cold, but not too cold, and not much colder than the past two weeks when I have been running in the morning. I had altered my training runs these past two weeks, anticipating the early start time and colder temperatures. I wanted to make certain my body would be ready. And with the sun shining my sunglasses were critical because of the angle of the sun at this time of year and this time of day. Parts of the route takes you right into the bright sunshine but the glasses do more than just block sunlight. They also protect your eyes from the wind, and on a cold day they can help prevent your eyes from watering up. Every little bit helps, and I could see others having issues with this during the race.
I worked my way into the corral by walking right past the elite runners at the start. As I walked past I asked them “which one of you is here for second place?” They seemed confused. Must be my accent. I went in and over to the left to meet with Suzanne who was on the other side of the fence. And there I stood, for about ten minutes or so while they started going through the pre-race announcements. By the time they got to the National Anthem I took off my sweat pants and the fleece headband for my ears. By the way, if you count the number of things I have done right so far today, I am up to two. First was having a breakfast and second was dressing in layers that could easily be shed at the start. While it was a little cold to be standing around, I knew that after a couple of miles I would not need the headband or the sweat pants. And I can never thank Suzanne enough for being by my side.
I was a much different runner this time. I was still warm while others around me shivered. I had my sunglasses and could run with my head up and not be forced to squint or stay in the shadows like others. I also had the iPod queued up and ready to take me through the whole day. I started running with the iPod a couple of months ago when my long runs got up to about 17 miles or about three hours. Having the music to help combat your inner voice really helps fight the boredom and can even allow you to remain focused. Of course I noticed none of the real elite runners use an iPod, or a stopwatch, so it is probably all in my head anyway. I had the right shoes, the right socks, and the right shirt to go along with all of my training. I could not have been more prepared and the weather could not have been more perfect. Not too cold, very low humidity, and some nice sunshine.
Soon enough the horn was sounded and we were off once again. As we headed through the gate I pressed play on the iPod, having my first song queued and ready. What song, you may wonder? “Everybody Wants Some” by Van Halen. While getting the playlist ready I had scrolled down and settled on that one, thinking how it would be a nice beat to get me going, not too fast, not too slow, a little primal screaming and some good guitar licks. What could be better? Another lesson learned from last year is to make certain I do not go out to fast, so knowing the playlist and being able to match a pace to it was critical for me. And this song did exactly that.
It was around the rotary, down Trumball, right onto Pearl, and out of town over the river on Founder’s bridge. Before the bridge Van Halen had ended and the iPod is on shuffle play so I never know what song could be next. Up next would just so happen to be a little Marilyn Manson with Beautiful People. Yeah, a little harder sound, another fantastic backbone for pace, and adequate guitar playing along. As we were coming up on the first mile marker I noticed the water station to my right. The station is really for mile nine when we come back, as our first water break is not until mile two. Yet I noticed one person make a beeline to go and grab himself some cups. If he is taking water already, I thought to myself, he’s screwed.
The first mile marker is past and I check in at 7:37. Oops, a little too fast, I need to slow down. Bear in mind that while I can do upwards of five miles at a 7:20 pace or better, I had learned from last year that I need to have an even pace for as long as possible. So, I made an effort to fade back a bit, which is easier than it sounds, honestly.
At around the halfway point to mile two one of my managers from work came up behind me. Off went the headphones (Fire, by Jimi Hendrix) and he and I spent the next mile or so talking and running. He had a goal of running the full marathon in better than 3:48 (and he did, finishing the day with a 3:46), so we matched pace for a while. But he ended up pulling away from me, so I raced to catch him to let him know that I was fading back and wished him luck. Headphones back and Kelis is now singing about her Milkshake. How lovely. I also notice some people running the wrong way. Hard to believe, but that must be the leaders for the half-marathon already heading back to town. Just run your own race and pace, I try to tell myself, and forget about them as well as that blue-hair that just passed you.
By this time we were heading up and through East Hartford. I had run this route more than once since last year and it has rained on me each and every time, if you can believe that, today being the first time in
my life I have ever run this stretch of road without any precipitation other than my own sweat. But I am quite familiar with the landmarks. There is a railroad overpass that is about the halfway point, From there it is up a slight bend and then we turn left. Then, a sharp left as we split from the marathoners who continue running into Windsor. Our left is followed by another which takes us back through East Hartford.
This whole section of the route is so familiar that I know just when and where to move, to speed up, to rest, really everything you would need to know in order to run as efficient a race as possible. I am officially in a zone, running a very even pace and knowing the course very well. I pass under the railroad overpass and know that I am going to be fine. At five miles I have a time under 40 minutes. Perfect, I am at a good pace and will be back in Hartford soon to finish this thing. I saw a man in front of me with a very laborious gait and sweat just pouring through his shirt, he was soaked. He’s in real trouble I thought as I went right past him. I wonder if that is what all the people that are passing me say about me as well? Do they look and laugh?
Sure enough I come up on mile seven and felt good. A slight hill where I pass a few people and then a sharp right to the next water station, where all the wheels really came off last year. I get through that and find myself at 7.5 miles in exactly one hour, which is an even 8 minute pace. About as well as I could have hoped for. I will have plenty left in the tank at the end, and should be able to finish this race without having to stop once. In training I have done 7.5 miles and even a little better than that in one hour, but never on days of long runs (more than ten miles). So, I knew that I had done very well to this point and was quite optimistic about having a strong finish.
What was that?
Well that would be my left hamstring. My right one had tweaked a bit earlier but I had not heard from it in a while. But now my left was starting to speak up. I made sure I grabbed some water and that pink crap they called Ultra or whatever it was called. It was awful. But I knew I needed fluids. Unfortunately I also knew that I needed them earlier. But I could only take care of the there and now at that time. I only had a few ounces of water at the stops and probably needed to have a little bit more but with such low humidity I was really lucky that my cramping was not much worse.
The left hammy would keep speaking to me until the end but for the most part I was able to run through it each and every time. Hopefully I can learn from this and try to figure out exactly how much water and swill I need to take in for every mile of a race. But for that day I knew I was going to be okay, as long as I did not do anything crazy and just maintained my pace. I rounded mile ten and felt fine, but knew I was slowing. I was at about 11.5 miles at 90 minutes and still chugging along. I had been with a pack of runners for a while that would speed up and slow down. One of them had a tie dye shirt on. Nobody in a tie dye shirt is going to beat me in this race. I stayed with him, about 20 feet back, until I noticed he started having trouble. I kicked it into another gear and went past him saying to myself bye-bye, hippie. I then vowed that if the hippie came back to pass me I might as well just retire from running.
As I headed down the last long stretch of road before the final mile I was caught by a man who remarked “This is nice. Good steady pace, let’s just keep it right here.” I took my headphones off and struck up a conversation with this man and he talked me through the last stretch. Three times I started to fall behind him because of my hamstring and three times I told him to go on. Each time he refused, staying with me and encouraging me to finish on my feet. We kept talking, which took my mind off my hamstring, and soon enough I found myself back at the rotary. The finish was near.
“Let’s do this,” the man said, meaning that we were going to speed up and finish strong. I agreed and started to pick up the pace, a little bit at a time, and kept increasing all the while thinking the finish was just up and to the left. After about 30 seconds I could hear the man behind me yelling something about me leaving him behind. Hey, he had his chance, I was not slowing down. Besides, I could see some women in front of me and a guy with very silver hair. I needed to pass them in order to regain some self-respect.
So I pressed on. Where is that turn for the finish? I passed more people along the way and felt great. The hamstrings were not a problem for me (maybe they were telling me to go faster all morning?) I kept passing people, one at a time, setting my sights on the next one and continued to up the pace. WHERE is that TURN for the FINISH? I now slowed down a bit, as I suddenly realized I had no flippin’ idea when this race would end. I suppose I should have checked the GPS to have an exact idea of where I was but who would think of such things when the end was so near.
WHERE IS THAT TURN FOR THE FINISH?
Now I am just pissed. I finally see the turn, which is also up a slight hill. Wonderful. I make the turn and find a handful of runners right in front of me. I went past all of them in those last hundred yards and made it through the gate not only running, but running HARD. I swear I could have done more, I felt that good.
A quick handout of a heat blanket, followed by my medal for finishing, then some water. I turned around to go back to find the man that had helped me and he came right up to knock fists with me and tell me how I had just kicked his ass. Well sir, you are welcome. Glad I could be there for you, and that you were there for me.
I took a seat while they cut my chip from my shoelace, then got up and wandered about until Suzanne found me. She was quite excited for me and told me that my time was 1:47.
1:47, or 25 minutes faster than last year.
I honestly felt I was able to run this race a year ago, and that the 1:45 range was attainable. I now know just how stupid a thought that was. I was nowhere near ready to run that race last year. This year, however, I was ready, and it showed.
I finished 387th overall out of 2305 runners, and was 46th out of 160 in my division (men, 35-39 years old). Last year I was 982nd out of 1686, and 101 out of 129 in my division. So that alone should tell you how much improvement I have had in the past year. Or just how bad everyone else has gotten. Either one or the other.
There is also a division for those of us who weigh more than 200 pounds, called the ‘Clydesdale’ division. No separation due to age, all they do is split you out by weight. Well, last year I was 46 out of 110. This year?
Eighth. Out of 100.
So, I can now lay claim to being the fastest and fattest runner in East Longmeadow, and I have the stats to back it up. And you know what? The winner for the Clydesdale’s ran a 1:30. I bet I can get down to that by next year. I know I can shave enough time off to get down under 1:40 total time. That alone would bump me up a few more spots. All I need to do is keep eating ice cream for breakfast in order to make the weight.
And that is one piece of training I know I can accomplish. See you next year.
