Stumbling & Mumbling

Tapering.

More tapering.

Still tapering but got some MP stuff in. Four days until Flying Pig.

Prepping for marathon tomorrow. Read an article about form of carbo-loading. Day before the marathon, warm up, then run hard for 3 minutes, then carb up. I tried it for tomorrow's Flying Pig, my first marathon.

<> This was my first marathon, first race longer than a half, so I had no real clue what to expect. I was hoping for a sub-3:30 (a BQ for my AG is 3:30:59) but I hadn't had any long runs over 18 miles for the last two months, so again, no idea what would happen. Summary: 3:31:45, missed a BQ by 46 seconds 478 / 4172 overall; 62 / 322 in 45-49AG I think this was the most painful experience of my life, except for childbirth. And childbirth wouldn't have been so bad if my wife hadn't insisted on squeezing my hand very, very hard with each contraction. (And she called me some hurtful names too, but that caused mostly emotional damage with little physical trauma.) Wonderful weather, as mentioned by others. In the 40s, cloud cover, nice and cool. The race was really well organized, very supportive volunteers, lots of support on the course, very enthusiastic citizen support, a top-notch effort by the organizers and city of Cincinnati. The course was overall very nice--lots of interesting neighborhoods to run through and lots of people out on their front lawns cheering. Kinda a boring section from about miles 18-22 or so, but very nice course otherwise. The grab bag for runners at the expo was pretty nice -- a short-sleeved technical shirt (for the full, halfers got a cotton shirt), a nice poster, and a cool sports bag with a flying pig emblem and little flying pigs on the zipper pulls. And pig noses and other assorted junk. I decided to take 4 Powergels with me and struggled to figure out how to carry them. I don't really like stuff bouncing on my butt for any length of time. (One guy in the 3:30 group had race-ready shorts on and must have had a box of Tic-Tacs or something in there, as he jangled with every step. I was ready to kill him after a mile and had to move to another part of the pack.) I took a friend's advice and put one in each glove (I decided to wear gloves to keep my hands warm, but wore a sleeveless shirt and shorts as I figured I'd overheat). The other two I came up with a potentially unique solution by rubber-banding one to each forearm. I'd never seen anyone doing this in a race and I guessed there was probably a pretty good reason but I did it anyway. Actually worked like a charm, barely noticed they were there and they never moved. Funny to see if any race pics show me with them on. I used the forearm gels at mile 6 and 12 and the other two at miles 18ish and 22ish. Start was 6AM. Parked about a mile from the start and walked, leaving my wife in the car in a parking garage at street level. Neither of us realized that the race would go right by the garage at about mile 4. She was snoozing in the car and heard cheering and looked up to see hundreds of runners going by, with a continual stream (so to speak) of them popping into the parking garage to urinate. She popped her head back down and didn't come back up until the bad men and women all went away. It was dark when the race started and theoretically stayed that way until sunrise at about 6:35 or so. I never knew when the sun rose, as it struck me at some point around 7:00 or 7:30 that it was cloudy out I hadn't noticed any dawn-like transition. I glommed onto the 3:30 pace group, led by Talkative Pacer George and his assistant Silent Pacer Bill. I wanted to hit 3:30 (~8:00 pace) as my goal and these guys seemed to be going my way. I surmised (correctly as it turns out) that when the going got tough, my only hope of hitting 3:30 was to be in a group and have it drag me along. Pacer George had us frighteningly close to the start line. I was astonished at how easy it was to move around in the start area. I could have gotten within a few feet of the start line if I'd wanted to. I got right up to the 3:30 group with no trouble. No chance of doing anything like that in the STL marathon/half, which had about the same size field (about 9,000, IIRC). Cannon boomed to announce the start, killing several of the elite runners. We all cheered as this moved us up several slots in the final standings. At about mile 1, we went around Great America ballpark where some baseball team plays and headed across the first bridge, over the Ohio River and into Kentucky. Then over another bridge across some tributary, then back up and over yet another bridge back into Ohio. The bridges weren't that bad, the third one seemed to be the steepest. But they used to be at the end of the race, which I imagine would have made them more troublesome. We took another turn and -- we're right where we were at mile 1! I think we were all following the same dude, who got lost. They finally got him straightened out and we headed out of downtown Cincy and into urban and exurban neighborhoods. Miles 5 - 8 were all uphill (one single hill that we gradually climbed), but it wasn't that bad. From what I could tell on the elevation map, the gain was about 100 feet per mile. You could tell you were going uphill and at times it was a strain, but it wasn't that bad. The pacers probably slowed down a bit but not more than a few seconds a mile. There was a huge crowd around mile 7 as that was the first relay exchange point (lots of relay people in this race, as there were two separate relay competitions). My main problem going up the hill was the first appearance (of three) of the piriformis problem I've been having with my left leg. It hit around mile 6, where it usually hits. The back of my upper left leg (hammie) went numb and I had some trouble planting my left foot (had to concentrate to get it to land straight). I knew from other runs and races over the last few months that I just had to wait it out and it'd go away. It did, after a mile or so. I think going uphill made it worse. What I wasn't sure about was whether it would recur in the next 20 miles and what would happen if it did, as I hadn't gone far enough before to tempt a recurrence. At about mile 8, we finally topped the hill and had a great view of the Ohio River valley, Cincinnati, and KY across the river. That was nice. At that support station, we had water that another guy and I decided they must have been dipping out of the duck pond nearby. Yech. At about this time, it occurred to me that I'd likely been drinking too much. I'd been taking both gatorade and water at every water station as I usually sweat like crazy and need it. But with the cool temp and overcast sky, it finally dawned on me that I wasn't sweating as much as I usually do. I started alternating gatorade and water, taking only one at each mile station, but the damage had been done. At about mile 9, the halfers split off from the fullers. Big cheering crowd here. Most of the people in the 3:30 group were doing the full, so it didn't get suddenly lonely. I think the full and half are about equal in size at the Flying Pig, so there was none of the empty feeling that people talk about at other races after the halfers leave. Around mile 12, I scooted into a portapotty to rid myself of excess internal moisture. When I popped out, the 3:30 group was about a minute ahead of me. I kept the 3:30 balloons in sight, just trying to very slowly gain on them, and I finally caught back up around mile 15. Just in time to have my second bout of left leg numbness. This one went away after a mile or so too, and didn't cost me any time, though maybe a little physical and mental energy, as I stayed with the group. Huge crowds in the neighborhood at the easternmost end of the race (Mariemount?) in miles 14-16. Lots of enthusiastic cheering. There was kind of a mile-long loop at the end and then we headed back west but on a different road that veered to southwest and back toward the river. The course got a little grim after this area, as the next 4 miles or so were on a highway and some other non-neighborhoody roads. Somewhere in here, around mile 20, was the last relay exchange station and just huge crowds. Funniest thing that I saw around mile 18 was some young guy came up alongside me and started running on the curb. Not on the sidewalk or the street, on the 4-inch-wide curb. As expected, he made a misstep and went flying into the grass between the street and sidewalk. Unfortunately for him, the patch of grass he chose to fall into had a pile of aluminum siding lying on it, ripped off the house by the homeowner and awaiting trashday. Loud, loud crash. But he popped back up again, saying that he was OK. The guy on the other side of me looked at me and we both rolled our eyes. My overall impression of miles 20 - 24 were kinda grim. This was partly the landscape and partly my mood. I was feeling really leg tired. I was still with the 3:30 group, and the pacers still had us a minute under pace (i.e., aiming to come in around 3:29) but I knew that if I dropped off the group I was done for. So I grimly held on for about two miles and then had my third bout of leg numbness. This time, my left leg went numb and almost immediately my left calf cramped and seized up. I had to stop and hobble over to a pole and stretch it out. I got back onto the road but the 3:30 group was about 45-60 seconds ahead of me and I knew I'd never catch them. I'd probably dropped down to 8:30 pace. My right calf cramped about a mile later. I hobbled along on it and it eased up after about 15 seconds. Both calves felt on the verge of cramping. I tried to change my stride to heel striking and that seemed to help somehow. I think it was just plain exhaustion that was causing the cramping. I'd never run over 21 miles before and hadn't gotten any runs in over 18 miles in the last two months, so this was bound to happen, I think. So the last 4 miles or so were just a nasty grind. Where most people have determination and courage to see them through spots like this, I had nothing but a strong aversion to humiliation. I'd passed a guy in a Superman costume somewhere around mile 23-24 and I did not want to get passed by him. So I kept going. Around mile 24 I passed three guys in identical singlets, one of each side of the third, urging him up a small hill as he struggled grimly and gasped. Also in that 24th mile was a guy who made me renew my vow not to put my name on my shirt, bib, arms, whatever. Some guy wrote "Sam" or "Sam I Am" on his shirt and people were shouting out to him as he ran/walked, obviously in lots of distress. I passed him but could still hear people shouting out to him for a while behind me. That sort of thing would irritate the heck out of me, even though the spectators' intentions are good. I got some "go guy with the yellow shoes" calls but I couldn't help that (Brooks changed the design of their Racer STs and now they're fluorescent yellow). The last 1.5 miles picked up, as the sidewalks got more crowded. The final mile was timed, as a last burst of sadism on the organizers' part. I stopped worrying about cramping up and picked up the pace a bit, doing around 7:15 for the final mile. I was trying to figure out what pace I slogged along after dropping off the pace group at mile 22. The pacers kept the 3:30 group within 2-3 seconds of 8:00 pace over virtually every mile. We were at 3:29 pace through 22 miles, where I dropped off. Assuming they ended up around 3:29 and given that I ended up at 3:31:45, I lost 2:45 to the pace group over the last 4.2 miles. Since I gained 45 seconds over the final mile (7:15 vs. 8:00 ave pace for a 3:30 time), I guess I lost 3.5 minutes over the 3.2mi from 22mi to 25.2mi. So I was probably around 9:05 or so for those miles. So my splits would look something like this: Miles 1-22: 7:57 Miles 22-25.2: 9:05 Mile 25.2-26.2: 7:15 Anyway, an interesting yet painful experience. I'll train better for several months, get in longer runs, and try another one in the Fall. Kudos to the Flying Pig organizers, the city of Cincinnati, and the 3:30 pacers (George and Bill) for a great job!

Basically a few miles of brisk walking. Quads are sore, I guess from the downhill sections of the Flying Pig. Calves are sore too, likely from the cramping episodes.

Recovery.

Ran a 5K alongside daughter, doing it in about 30min, so it qualifies as an easy run.

Staying on the slow road to marathon recovery.

Some easy miles with 6 x (400m@MP, 400m easy) in the middle.

Still on the recovery trail...

Still in marathon recovery, apparently. Or so my legs seem to be telling me.

Easy run, legs sore.

Still just easy running. Left piriformis trouble kicked in at the usual 5-6 mile point but faded away after another mile. Will try 1/2mi @10K pace on Sunday (PeteP marathon book suggestion). If it feels OK, I'll end my recovery period and resume normal training.

Very easy miles. Played basketball at lunch (vs. a 5th grader I'm mentoring and a buddy of his, 1 v 2) and made some muscles sore that I guess I haven't used in a while.

Longest run since marathon, felt pretty good. Went to what we call the Buffalo Trails through hilly woods about 15 minutes away. Did two of the five-mile loops, picking up the pace for about two miles in the middle. I think I'm basically recovered from the marathon and ready to resume normal training.

Will be looking to do a little speedwork to try to get into shape for some 5Ks and 10Ks this summer, maybe a couple of halfs in the Fall, then the Chicaog marathon on 10/22, where I sure hope I can beat the 3:31:45 that I stumbled through in Cincinnati.

Rare track appearance. Decided to see if I was recovered enough to do some faster stuff. Did a 2-mi WU, then 8x200m @ faster than mile race pace (36-40s per 200, 4:48-5:20 pace) with 200m jog between. Then a cooldown. Got up into the mid-90s today, with humidity ~ 80%, so it was fairly hot even at 8AM. Felt pretty good, but didn't feel inclined to do more than 8 of them. Guess I'm back to regular training.

WU for 3mi, 2.2mi @ between 5K and 10K pace, then CD.

I really need to work on sustained hard runs, as that's a huge weakness. And endurance too, as evidenced by by half and full marathon performances. So, endurance and sustained hard efforts (tempos of various lengths and paces) are the watchwords for my Summer, I hope.