Thousand Miles to Salamanca

Chicago Marathon Results: Blow by Blow

RACE RECAP

Distance: 26.2 @ 3:50:11

I've never ran a race quite like this one. So many people. So much hoopla. So friggin' fun. There were people at every instant of this race; tons of people. It was easy to get hyped, and, well, easy to go out quick; too quick at times.

Fortunately I was able to get a preferred start for this one, given my 3M Half-Marathon time. That was a big plus, but it may have been a bad thing in the long run. Anyway, here are the splits that I had. I actually missed several mile markers.

Mile 1 | Mile 2 | Mile 3 | Mile 4 | Mile 5 | Mile 6
7:42 | 7:56 | 7:56 | 6:57 * | 7:34 | 7:36

Okay, after mile 1, a little anxiety was released. This mile felt like I was barely moving. Still packed, still wall to wall people, everybody was quick.

Mile 2 and Mile 3 I can barely remember. Then, I believe, I missed the Mile 4 marker and split my watch right before the 5K mark. So, in actuality Mile 3 was a little faster and Mile 4 was a little slower. I'm presuming they were both in the 7:30's. But, honestly, it did not feel like I was going too fast and I believed I was holding back to pace. I imagined that what I was experiencing was the benefit of training in the heat, and running in perfect running conditions.

1st 10K: 47:23

Next thing you know, I see my 10K split. It was only about a minute slower than my quickest 10K at Go for the Gold (quickest this decade at least--not High School). I was still feeling smooth, so I rolled right along.

Mile 7 | Mile 8 | Mile 9 | Mile 10
7:34 | 7:38 | 15:37 (missed the split at 9)

So what pattern was I seeing? I was seeing myself on pace for a 3:20 marathon, my optimistic goal time. Not only that, I saw this:

10 Miles: 1:16:39

Of all the 10-mile tempo runs we've done in the last four months, I've never run faster than a 1:20. So I had a 10-miler PR. That was my first PR of the day. But, on the other day, it was too fast and I knew it. So I decided to drop back to 8:00's. My strategy was to drop down to 8:00 minute miles from miles 10 - 16.

Mile 11 | Mile 12 | Mile 13
7:52 | 16:09 (missed the split at 12)

But, regardless, working as planned and feeling fine. However, in retrospect, I realize that I should have been hydrating more during these crucial miles. But, shortly after Mile 13, what did I see? Well, start again. I saw the following split:

20K: 1:36:01

I've run one other 20K, last year at the Decker Challenge. My time for that race was 1:39:30. So, my second PR, on the same run. But still, I wasn't feeling bad. A little cautious, but not bad. But another one came up:

Half-Marathon: 1:41:28

Another PR, beat my 2005 3M Half-Marathon best by 2:23. Which was nice, but what was nicer was the fact that I beat my PR from High School too, by 15 seconds. Yes, I finally beat one of my High School bests. Although, before I get too excited and talking about running retirement, I had only run one half-marathon in high school.

But... According to my plan, I was still "recharging."

Mile 14 | Mile 15 | Mile 16
8:10 | 16:15 (missed the split at 15)

Still rolling along, but starting to get a little concerned. I knew I had 10 miles left, and my urge to go to the bathroom didn't subside. I still had to go and was being cautious about gulping water. Which, was just plain stupid.

Mile 17 | Mile 18 | Mile 19
8:36 | 9:25 | 8:40

I trudged through 17, still having to hit the bathroom. Finally, shortly after the Power Gel "Recharge Zone" before the 18 mile marker I saw a port-a-poty and thought to myself "this is where a decision is made." A scary thought, yes it was. Mile 18 was a little slower, but that was urinal time.

But, it looks like I recovered because my next mile was an 8:40, which, wasn't horrible. I've done worse. Then, something happened during the 20th mile. The bottom seemed to fall out. But during that time, when I was seemingly dying, I saw a split at the 30K mark.

30K: 2:28:30

It was almost 10 minutes faster than my previous best at the Buda 30K. Another PR.

Mile 20 | Mile 21 | Mile 22
9:34 | 10:24 | 11:04

I can't remember what happened, or on which mile, but I began to panic and my mind just started racing. Thoughts were coming from everywhere. I'd see people with pace group tags on their shirts, just rolling by me, seemingly effortlessly. At one point I couldn't lift my knees. Each step was so completely monotonous. I just had to walk, so I did.

I walked for a good 30 seconds and it was as if I was being pulled toward the ground. Then, another guy who was walking said "Hello." I said "Hello" back. Then he said: "It started so well..." I became disgusted at what he said. Because he had written off his race... So I thought to myself, no matter how hard it feels right now, I'm finishing this damn thing running. So I ran and tried like hell to calm my nerves. Quick note: you can't try like hell to calm your nerves. But somehow I made it through that mile.

Mile 23 | Mile 24
23:12 (missed the split at 23)

This was total despair. In fact, and I'm not kidding, I was literally running with my eyes closed, talking to myself during the run. My mind was still racing, but I was just trotting. Trotting so darn slow. People flew by. The 3:30 group whizzed by. Helpless, I could do nothing but watch. So I closed my eyes and ran some more. And believe it or not, I seemed to snap out of it when I heard someone announce the fact that a water stop was coming. I "woke up" for that, and saw Comiskey Park, or what used to be Comiskey on the right. The water was good and after I rounded the corner and crossed the freeway, I felt a cramp coming on in my left hamstring. So, I did something novel. I simply stretched my hamstring for a few seconds and low and behold the cramp left me. I was off again.

Mile 25 | Last 1.2
11:16 | 12:57

Mile 25 wasn't good, but I could see the barn. I saw the 3:40 pace group whiz by me, and again, I could do nothing but watch. I was encouraged by the wonderful people of Chicago. They were simply phenominal. And somewhere during the last mile, I saw Coach Gilbert. It was obvious that I looked bad, but he spotted me in the crowd and told me otherwise.

"You're looking good, you're looking strong," he said. I knew he was lying. But he ran with me for a hundred or so yards and do you know what? It was awesome. I pumped my arms. And even though I could only get my pace back down to probably a 9-something, I started to lighten up and laugh to myself. I knew it was almost over and everything was going to work out. I wasn't dying. Shortly after Gilbert took off, I heard a random person yelling "around the corner and you're done." It was the most magical thing I'd heard all day.

So I picked it up, and worked the last hill at the 25.9 mile mark, and cruised on in towards the chute. Seeing everybody finishing in front of me throwing up their arms, I had to do the same. I can't wait to see that goofy-ass picture.

So I bonked bigtime, that's true. But as I've had a few days to think about this race, the facts remain. I PR'd my 20K, Half-Marathon, 30K and finally, the Marathon by 25 minutes. Yes, I was shooting for a 3:30, and it was a very realistic goal, it still wasn't a bad day. It was a great day.

And if I could thank that guy who told me "It started out so well," I would. Because what I'm most proud of was not the PR's, but the fact that I trudged through those final 5 miles when I wanted nothing more than to go sit on the curb and cry. The Marathon is an experience like none other (I know it's cliche) and it's a difficult beast to tame (yet another--but nothing sums it up better).

I've learned some valuable lessons, and I plan to share those later. As for now, we're getting there, slowly. Like everything else in life, it takes time to get better. And maybe, I'll learn this patience thing before I'm 40.

posted by Gray @ 9:58 AM