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| Number on the front! |
It was a beautiful day for a marathon on Saturday. After not sleeping totally awfully, I was up at 4:30 to slam some coffee and wake Firefighter's gf, A, who drove me to the bus pick up and waited until the bus finally arrived. A went above & beyond the call of duty the entire weekend. She was awesome (perhaps I should refer to her as A+).
It was 43 degrees at 5 o'clock in the morning with a projected high of something like 77. Highs in the desert (dewpoint 24!) come about 5 in the evening. Perfect weather for running. C said that if we couldn't PR with this kind of weather and a downhill course, we never would.
There was a mixup with the bus company or the scheduling or the adding up of how many buses it takes to drive 608 people to the top of a mountain. Hint: it takes quite a few. ProTip: marathoners will get very anxious if they don't get to the start line with enough time to stand in line for the biff, take off their sweats, stow their bags with the truck, run through their mantras and line up where they think they need to be in order not to get trampled. The start was supposed to be 6:15, I got to the top of the mountain at 6:05, and Garmin had me starting at 6:23.
This marathon starts up at 6500 feet and drops 1400 feet over the first 13 miles. Then you stop running down the mountain and turn into town, running between mountain ranges (i.e. running the gap). Once the turn happens, the course only drops another 150 feet and there are some uphills. Hint: those who dwell near sea level are somewhat ill prepared to run uphill at altitude. Some of us can run downhill with the big boys, though.
My crazy plan involved starting with the 3:40 pace group and hanging on for as long as possible, then dropping back to the 3:50 group or maintaining 9 minute miles on my own. This was crazy for several reasons. (1) I hadn't timed any of my training runs, so I had no idea of how fast I'd been training. (2) I haven't really raced since before I broke my toe. (3) I have a bionic toe and didn't run from July to November last year, then not much at all until March. (4) I run "barefoot," i.e., with minimal shoe-ing, here a pair of moccasins with a 2mm sole between my feet and the ground. (5) a 3:40 marathon translates to 8:24 miles. (6) Baker's cyst, left knee, minimal running in April. (7) Did I mention altitude?
I didn't hear a gun or a siren, but suddenly the front of the pack was off, so we started running. The first mile seemed really slow. I wasn't breathing hard at all. Though my feet felt like they were turning over at a pretty good clip, I wasn't having any of the heart pounding lung stabbing dizzy breathlessness that I'd had the day before on my "easy" run (mile and a half up a mountain, then back down. ouch). I was really surprised when I looked and saw we'd run the first mile in 8:06. Huh. Ok.
I was talking with some of my fellow 3:40groupies while we ran down the mountain and waited for the sunrise. Some guy with an accent had run Twin Cities marathon twice. He called it brutal. We discussed the particular sadism of Summit hill after twenty miles. Another guy looked about the Firefighter's age and was cold at the start of the race. He was originally from Pocatello, but was living in Boulder. The pacer talked about having run Boston this year with a torn hamstring. Uh huh. The miles were just clicking by every 8 minutes or so. Still felt easy, no heavy breathing, nothing hurting.
I knew there was probably going to be some uphill about Mile 7 where there was an out and back section. We hadn't driven up it the day before. Sure enough, turn the corner, run UP. I hate the long, slow gradual hills in Minnesota. I vastly prefer the short, steep uphills I knew back in Wisconsin. Idaho takes this to a whole 'nother level. It didn't
look that steep, but I felt myself dropping back, not being able to keep pace with the group. Breathing was hard. I let them get ahead of me, then caught them on the way back down. I knew that if I fell behind again, I probably wouldn't be able to catch up. I was having a really good time though, so at that point I didn't really care. During Mile 8, our pacer had to take a bathroom break, so she gave the "3:40" sign to the kid from Pocatello and took off for the water stop. The kid then revealed that not only could he not pace for the life of him, he didn't have a watch, either. The dude with the accent and I kept him on pace with our respective Garmin readings. Mile 8 turned out just fine, so I guess we did alright. I tried half an orange Gu then, and bleah. It didn't give me any gastrointestinal stress, but the consistency was disgusting. I stuck to water for the rest of the race.
I hit the half start line (and marathon midpoint) slightly behind the group, in what is a new PR for half for me. Now that I look at my splits, it might actually have been as fast at 1:45 or 1:46, but I was already getting a little fuzzy at that point. Though I started out too fast, I was running easy and slower than I'd run down the mountain the previous day. If anything, the pace group kept me slow enough to be able to finish the entire race.
I started looking for A at this point, knowing she'd have potato chips for me. I wasn't hungry, but once the course flattened out, I could feel myself slowing. I still had the pace group in sight through Mile 14, but when I saw A at Mile 15, they were pretty far ahead. I knew I wouldn't catch them, and told A that it was starting to hurt a little bit. Potato chips are yummy.
Most of the rest of the race is blurry, except for the wall of wind at Mile 19 when making another turn toward town and then walking up the hill at Mile 21 with a woman who'd started out with the 3:30 pace group. I felt a lot slower than my splits look. I guess I really didn't crap out until that hill, when it was hard to get started again. Miles 22 through 26 were pretty darn slow. My feet started to hurt and I wanted to run on the shoulder where the pavement was smoother, but I didn't have enough concentration left to avoid the little rocks that were everywhere. I was getting weirdly emotional, but never really hit the wall, just kind of slowed down to a crawl.
When I finally saw the finish line, I managed to kick, because I wasn't going to let any of those half marathoners beat me at the end. I kicked pretty well, too. The guy who handed me my medal said, "Hey, you came in here so fast we thought you were going to turn around and run the course again backwards!" I said, "Oh, hell no!" C and A cheered me in, I think I heard them, but didn't see them until they found me staggering around at the end. We lingered briefly, then headed to the brewery for lunch and well-deserved beers. C took 3rd place in her age group for the 5k. I was 17th out of 38 in my age group. Then, a nap and a massage, courtesy of A who got one for me at the salon where she's working. Then, more foods and sleep.
Mile 1 8:06
Mile 2 7:43
Mile 3 8:06
Mile 4 7:59
Mile 5 6:44 (this could be where I picked up that extra 1/2 mile)
Mile 6 7:18
Mile 7 8:23 (first uphill bit, foreshadowing of things to come)
Mile 8 8:11
Mile 9 8:32
Mile 10 8:08
Mile 11 8:07
Mile 12 8:06
Mile 13 8:37
13.1 Half split - Garmin says 1:45, actually more like 1:48?
Mile 14 8:14
Mile 15 8:55
Mile 16 9:31
Mile 17 10:41
Mile 18 10:07
Mile 19 9:45
Mile 20 10:12
Mile 21 11:14
Mile 22 12:21
Mile 23 11:29
Mile 24 12:01
Mile 25 12:30
Mile 26 12:28
0.2 pace 9:01
Time 4:11:50, for a 9:35 pace overall.