I wasn’t all that excited immediately upon waking up, and really would have preferred to go right back to bed. Bad omen? I haven’t woken up at 4 am on purpose in a while and I guess I’m out of practice. I struggle out of bed and perform my typical routine, all the while trying not to wake up my friend and travel buddy Zac sleeping in the next bed. This was our 4th and final morning in Mobile, AL. MTSU played in the GoDaddy.com Bowl 3 days prior to race day, so we came down early for the game and its associated festivities. Not the type of thing I put in my race reports, but I find it difficult to divorce the two. The game went… not so well. Let’s just say, on top of all expectations and desires, I had one more incentive to do well today: make up for a disappointing football game.
So, I get my breakfast down, my clothes on and my first poop out of the way, read the last two chapters of Again to Carthage, which may well be a new tradition, and kill an hour before leaving the hotel room. Preparing for running races just takes less time than for triathlons. It was almost frustrating how much time I had to kill over the morning. After 2 hours of messing around on the computer and talking to runners at the host hotel it finally came time to warm up. The warm up felt good and I took care of all my prerace business without ever feeling rushed. After popping my gel and caffeine pill, I headed to the start line just in time for the anthem and the gun.
My plan was to run the first 6.5 miles completely aerobically. My watch was set to alert me when my heart rate crept within an eyelash of my LTHR; it beeped at 183, LT is 185. I was surprised when it took a mile and a half to even get it elevated that far. I ran the first 10 minutes at LT effort, at LT speed, but at marathon heart rate. Of course it didn’t last very long, but it was cool while it lasted.
The first two miles were both in 7:45 on the nose. I had hoped to run close to a 7:30 average for the day, but the honest truth is that I get excited any time I’m running sub 8 min/mis. I’ve been very slow for a long, long time, and my current speed is not something I’ve accepted as permanently mine. It’s increasingly hard to figure out my mile splits, but I noticed I turned my first 5k in 24:XX. I couldn’t help but be surprised by just how easy everything felt. The magical combination of a taper (sort of), good nutrition and a megadose of caffeine worked synergistically and everything felt like music. Nothing hurt, nothing forewarned, nothing felt underprepared or pessimistic. Just follow the bouncing flash mob in front of you, but do so without going over 185.
I went through Selma, my favorite part of the course, without even noticing (damn), and soon found myself at the first aid station. I told myself after trying it in training that I was not going to try to drink while running during this race. My heart rate always seems to spike really high, out of allotted zones, when I did so. Still I am, regardless of all my knowledge of my body, a stupid, stubborn runner who is damn well going to do things the way he wants to. And as it is said of boxers in Million Dollar Baby: if you (the coach/trainer) can beat that last part out of them, even if that last part will be the death of them, then they ain’t fighters at all.” I was taking water at every station and a gel at every other. When I say I was taking a gel, I mean I was squeezing in a bit, drinking as much water as could be splashed in my mouth and spitting out a lot of it when I tired of the effort. Why bother? According to some research I’ve heard of, getting some sugar on your tongue tells your body that calories are coming in. With sugar coming in, you are more likely to break down glycogen at higher rates, and less likely to have to significantly tap into fat. Why is that a bad thing? Ever heard of something called fatigue? That’s what it is; slowing your body down when glycogen gets low to more heavily utilize fat. Or that’s what I’ve read, at least. If Ben Greenfield or Adam Beston reads this, I’m sure they’ll chime in and tell me what an idiot I am.
Turning back onto Government St. may have made the course much less twisty and convoluted, but it exposed us a lot more to the wind. I fully expected to be greeted with a headwind when I made the turn, but it felt an awful lot like a tailwind. Unfortunately, the winds had shifted in the ONE DAY since my last run; now the wind would be in my face for the last 4 miles rather then the next 4. I tried to pick up my speed and get right up under my 183 bpm limit, but (finally) started to find it difficult to hold current pace without my HR drifting. There was a lot of concentration and controlled breathing over the stretch, but the pace still did not feel difficult. Runners shot down Government like an arrow and it was rather dull. I had forgotten for an instant that the bane of my existence, a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop, was right on the course. I passed it and thankfully wasn’t in the mood for doughnuts quite yet.
I knew that if Government felt like it took forever that it might be an omen for a tough 2nd half. It passed without a lot of effort, though, and I the course wound up Fulton, past the 4th water station and up towards Dauphine. I was starting to get rather warm in my PKP skull cap, so I took it off and dropped it at the station; they promised to bring it to the lost and found at the finish line. I popped my 2nd gel, crawled up the “hill” to Dauphine and cut left. The pace was getting increasingly difficult to maintain, but I was now able to cut off my alarm. My first 6.5 miles was done and I was no longer bound to aerobic zones. If I were to turn in sub 1:40, I would need 50 minutes after the split. I glance down and read 51:17. Not good. Still, though, it’s pretty windy out here (14 mph), and it’s affecting everybody. Just keep going, keep drafting, save it for mile 10.
Dauphine headed west was the windiest part to that point, and it was becoming evident that it was more of a crosswind from the right than a tailwind. It was good to get on Dauphine because it meant that the marathon/half marathon split was coming up. I was feeling pretty good at this point and, in a bit of celebration that I was past the halfway point, I picked it up a little bit. It was hardly a finishing kick, hardly the stiff tempo I would hold from mile 10 to 12; I was just turning the screws a little bit and enjoying watching people break. I past a dozen people on the way to the turn off of Dauphine and into the direct headwind on N Mobile St. There weren’t many people around me at this point, so I stuck as close behind the guy in front of me as I could. Eventually I went around him and pulled for a while. The out-and-back along Cameron St was annoying, good thing I knew it was there, but the remaining half mile up N Mobile was reminiscent of my windy tune-up workout. My pace slid under 8 min/mis for the first time all day and I struggled to just fight it as best I could.
I finally made it to Spring Hill and knew the race had begun in earnest. I knew before I even registered for the race that this section would be by far the toughest. This is the section I chose to do my final pre-race run in. This is the section where I started to pick it up a little bit. For the first time all day, I was put into true difficulty and genuinely wanted to walk. My motivation and subsequently pace fluctuated a bit in the eternity that is the last few miles of a long race, but I made it through the dark part and into a bit of a 2nd wind around mile 10.5. Having already taken my last gel, I was ready to punish myself over the last few miles. Spring Hill just seemed to continue and continue, but I knew its time was almost up when I finally reached the infirmary hospital around mile 11. In good time, I turned off of Spring Hill very happy to see it go, grabbed another cup of water and headed downwind towards Dauphine.
A left turn onto Dauphine meant nothing but straight and narrow to Bienville Square and the finish line. My course recon was sufficient to know that Dauphine itself would not be home to the finish line kick; that I would be better served to wait until I got downtown for that. I instead climbed into the pain cave and made a home out of crystallized sweat and legs threatening cramping. We were still very exposed to the wind, which was about 70/30 crosswind from the left and headwind, but it didn’t matter anymore. Pace was pretty unimportant; it was all about effort. I was trying to keep my HR above 190 for as much of the last mile as I could. Passing a familiar restaurant downtown, I knew I was .7 miles from the line. I was pretty sure I could see the line from where I was, but my depth perception was pretty shot. My mouth crept open and began to take a bit of the inspiratory strain off of my nose. I kicked it in as hard as I could and succeeded in achieving my impromptu goal of going under 1:43, which I had set about 45 seconds prior when I saw that I had 55 seconds to reach the line before 1:43:00 hit. I was not passed by anybody over the last mile, and don't recall being passed over the last 5k.
Total clock time: 1:42:51; 7:52/mi avg pace
Per the Garmin: 1:42:51; 13.22 miles; 7:47/mi avg
First 6.5: 51:16; 7:53/mi
Second 6.5: 50:04; 7:42/mi
Final .22: 1:30; 7:00/mi
The First Light marathon and half marathon was a pretty small race. There wasn’t a lot to do in the way of hanging out. I treated myself to some hot chocolate and a couple cups of coffee (to alleviate an otherwise mind-melting caffeine withdraw headache) and changed clothes before I headed back to the hotel. I dropped off my stuff and headed back out for the solid-food section of the post-race festivities, but with a 7 hour drive home and a snowstorm on the way, I decided it was best to just get out of dodge. This weekend was long enough already.
I didn’t make my arbitrarily-assigned time goal, but I feel like I accomplished every other goal I set for myself. I significantly negative split the course, even though the weather was harsher on the back half. I bested my previous PR by over ten minutes; 10:32 to be precise. I’m a little embarrassed as to how sore the race made me, especially when I spent most of the first 10 miles thinking somehow that I should be running harder because it feels easy.
I know better than to read too much into early season races; I perfected a science of doing that last year. I’m just glad to see my body respond so well to the first race of my fifth year in endurance sports. According to veteran runners, the 5th year is really when you start to realize that you’re getting good at it. I certainly hope so.
