Race Report: Fairfax Four Miler, December 31, 2019

I ran the Fairfax Four Miler last night, finishing in a time of 24:55, which was good enough for 3rd overall and a new four mile PR.

So yes, this race was a very pleasant surprise - I was not expecting to run or place anywhere near that well.

***

I haven't raced since the Richmond Marathon back in November, and I need to race regularly in order to perform my best in my goal races.  Thus, with the Houston Half-Marathon coming up in a couple weeks, I needed to race something.  And this race fit the bill.  It's not generally a fast race for multiple reasons, but it is a well organized and fun race.  So perfect for a rust buster.

I knew from the last time I ran this race that it was easy to let time get away from you, and get rushed before the start.  A 6 pm start seems late, but it comes earlier than you think.  So this year I planned ahead - picking up my bib ahead of time and tucking it into the glove compartment of my car (one less thing to do on race day) and also planning to leave early.

Good thing I did.  Consistent with my experience with rust busters, I was disorganized and a bit frazzled.  I missed my exit on the interstate, and then navigated the back roads of Fairfax County Virginia with something short of finesse.  When I finally got close to the race, I parked in the first open lot I saw, rather than try for something closer to the start/finish.  Which turned out to be the right decision, since all the closer lots were full or congested with traffic. 

[if anyone has any illusions that I'm someone who has everything under control, let me assure you that such is not the case.  Rather, I'm someone who continually plans around my failings, so that things hopefully work out even when I screw up]

I parked around 5:10, which was just enough time to put my shoes and bib on, and start warming up.  For my warm-up, I went with my standard - 15 minutes jogging, 3 minutes at half-marathon effort, 4 bouts of 30 seconds at 5K effort, and 4 bouts of 10 seconds at mile effort.  Then a bit more jogging, some drills and strides and last minute clothing adjustments, and we lined up.

***

As noted above, I didn't have terribly high expectations for this race.   I'm still working my way back into fitness post-marathon, for one thing.  Additionally - this race is generally a slow one.  The course is hilly, with two 180 degree turns. 

The race is also held after sunset, under street lights.  In my experience people of all levels generally run slower in the dark unless the path is extremely well lit - something about the interaction between visibility and perceived effort.  When you can't see well, the same pace seems harder.  Times are generally slow on this course, with many people running something not too far from their half-marathon pace for these four miles.  (of course, the fact that very few people are at peak fitness on December 31 could also have something to do with this).

So...time goals were pretty much out of the question.  I just wanted to run a smart race, and also re-acclimate to that distinct feeling of race suck.  

I knew from previous races that the second half of this race was harder than the first.  The race basically ran as:

• first mile - some uphill, a bit of flat, a bit down
• second mile - a hairpin turn and a nice long down hill
• third mile - sucky climbing and another hairpin turn
• fourth mile - more or less the inverse of the first mile

I also remembered that the finish line could be hard to see in the dark, so I memorized landmarks for 400m and 800m to go, to help me nurse myself to the finish.

Based on all this, my game plan was to go out conservatively, find a controlled rhythm, stay strong when others started to fall apart during the hard third mile, and then hammer home.

***

So when the gun went off, that's what I did.  Like always, many many people surged ahead of me, but after the first few minutes, most faded.  Fortunately, a few did not, and I found myself in a nice pack of about 10 guys.  

As we approached the first hair pin turn, I was able to count women as they doubled back.  I only noted two ahead of me - neat!  Unfortunately, counting women distracted me from the footing, and I stepped on a rock and rolled my right ankle.  Which is my bad one.  Whoops.

I checked out of race mode for a few seconds, and confirmed that the ankle and my gait felt fine - nothing unstable or off.  So I turned race mode back on and continued my work.

I rolled down the long descent, and then began the long climb that matched it.  Sure enough, my pack broke apart as some people faded while others attacked the hill hard.  I did neither  - I just held a steady rhythm with the intent of saving the heroics for the last half mile.

As we climbed, I noted a woman up ahead.  Surprising, since I thought there were only two, and she wasn't either of the women I had spotted before.  So the bad news was that I wasn't in third.  The good news was that this woman was fading, and I managed to reel her in with my steady effort.

Another hair pin turn, and then we were in the final mile.  I waited until my 800m to go sign (the retirement home on the left) and started to open the throttle.  Race suck was in full effect and I was hating life, but I also remembered that race suck was exactly what I wanted from this race.

I was hurting as I approached the finish.  And then my coach yelled at me that I was about to break 25, which was not on the radar.  I dug to see if I could find just a bit more, but I think I dug a bit too deep, and I started to tie up as I approached the finish.

It's a downhill finish, and a bit steep right at the finish line, which just made things worse.  My legs locked up, and my arms started to windmill as I approached the mats.    I got over the mats without falling, but (embarrasingly) didn't have enough control of my legs to stop without falling forward.  

Fortunately, a race volunteer was right there and caught me as I was about to fall.  Saving me from yet another finish line faceplant (though at least this one would have been after the mats).

After I managed to regain my balance, I stopped my Garmin.  It read 25:00 flat.  Which meant I had broken 25.  Wow.  Was not expecting that at all.  My previous 4 miler PR of 25:16 was from this spring in Central Park.  And while the Central Park 4 Miler course has its own hills, it's less hilly than this course, and also lacks sharp turns.  I did not expect to beat that time on this course.  

***

My final official time was 24:55, which was good enough for third female overall.  Manual splits on the Garmin were:

Mile 1: 6:15

Mile 2: 6:12 

Mile 3: 6:24

Mile 4: 6:04 (reads 6:09, but after subtracting the 5 second discrepancy between my official chip time and my Garmin time, I get 6:04).

Other notes:

• Really really good weather for this race - 48 degrees with a dew point of 33.  That's got to get some of the credit here.
  
• I wore Vaporflies for this race, as I did for my previous 4 Miler in February (Nexts for this race, OGs for February).  So..the improvement between the two can't be attributed to Vaporfly versus non Vaporfly.
  
• I ate my pre-race "breakfast" at just before 3 pm, which was perfect timing for it to digest before the race.
  
• My right ankle is a bit sore today, but not too bad and I'm not terribly worried about it.  I iced it last night after the race and also slept with a compression sock, and I think those things both helped.
• This tying up at the end of races is frustrating.  It didn't cost me a good race here, but it could again in the future.  I need to work on fixing that.
• After the race, I was able to meet the female winner.  I remembered her from about a decade ago. I was a new runner, and about to win a very small 3K race when a 10 year old girl darted around me and outkicked me to the finish.  The picture of her breaking the tape, with me looking on from behind in shock, made the local running magazine.  Fast forward 10 years, and she's now a top collegiate runner and was a two time Footlocker finalist in high school.  And she's also just a great person to boot.  That was really cool to run into her again.  Of course, this also means I'm now 0-2 against her....

Race Report: Columbus Half-Marathon, October 21, 2019

I ran the Columbus Half-Marathon yesterday, finishing in 1:24:08, which is a small PR and good enough for second in my age group and second master female.

I've wanted to run this race for a while - I've heard it's a fast course and a well managed race that for some reason gets overlooked by east coasters.  So I was really happy that it fit into my schedule as a tune-up for Indy Monumental next month.

As the race approached this week, I grew both excited and concerned.  Excited because the weather was looking great and I knew I was fit; concerned because my ulcerative colitis was starting to flare.  I had some mild cramping during last Saturday's long run that I didn't think too much of, but then Tuesday's interval workout was worse.   I made it through the workout, but pooped a significant bit of blood after  (sorry to be gross, but...).  So I called my GI doctor.

There's a medication called mesalamine that actually works pretty well for me in addressing my UC, and is legal under USADA.  And I saw results quickly when I last used it.  So that's good.  The downsides are that I tend to get mildly fatigued and nauseous on it.  Which is fine for normal life, but bad for peak performance.

The normal course of the medication is 3-4 weeks, but I really did not want to be on it for my race this weekend.  So...my doctor agreed that I could take it for two-three days only to clear up stuff as much as I could, and then go off of it in time to get it out of my system.

So I took it Tuesday and Wednesday, and by Friday I was feeling much better and did my up-tempo mile on Friday with no GI issues.  Stellar.

***

I flew out to Columbus Friday mid-day and then used the very convenient COTA bus system to get from the airport to downtown Columbus.  The COTA system is awesome.  There was a direct bus from the airport to my hotel that pulled up just as I exited the airport.    And then once I was in Columbus, while there was no subway system, there was a free downtown circulator bus that went everywhere I wanted to go (which was the expo, the UPS store to pick up my shipped box, the grocery store, and the Chipotle).

[I should mention that I'm a bit of a public transportation nerd.  Yes, if I'm really time crunched, I'll take a cab.  And there's times when it just makes sense to rent a car.  But if things are a bit more relaxed, I much prefer public transportation.  It's not about money.  Nor, if I'm being totally honest, is it about the environment (sorry).  I just enjoy deciphering public transportation maps, and I also think it's a cool, less insulated way to experience a new place.]

I checked into my hotel - pleasantly surprised by just how ginormous a suite is in a mid-western city, as opposed to New York or Philly.  So that was a positive.

The negative was that I was apparently the first person to turn on the heat in my room in a while when I flipped it on Friday evening.  And when I turned it on, I guess some stuff that had been sitting there for a while got blasted into the air.  Resulting in the first time I've ever had an asthma attack while lying in bed reading.

Wow...this really was not an auspicious start to the weekend.   I went ahead and puffed my inhaler which fixed things, and then had a somewhat poor night of sleep.  I debated asking if I could move rooms, but the air seemed better in the room after the initial blast.  And for all I knew, I'd just end up with a repeat experience in the next room.

After that, my breathing seemed better.  I could tell on Saturday that my allergies were flaring, but not horribly.  Just a headache and a bit of chest tightness that I could handle with the inhaler.  And...the weather was going to be fantastic on Sunday.

***

Sunday morning dawned pretty much perfect - around 50 degrees with low wind.   I woke up at 4:15 am, took my asthma meds and ate a limited version of my pre-race breakfast - about 1/2 of what I normally eat.  This was intentional, and a calculated risk.  My GI tract had felt slightly uncomfortable after breakfast on Saturday morning, and so I deliberately ate a bit less than I normally do to try to minimize the risk of race day GI issues.  [I should note that I generally eat a lot pre-race - more than most people that I know - so what I ate wasn't that minimal.  for example, my day-before-race lunch is usually about 2-3 bowls of Chipotle; I stuck to one this time.]    Had this been a full, I'd have been very nervous about doing this.  But...this was a half, and I know some people run those on just a slice of toast and peanut butter.

At just after 6:00 am, I left my room and jogged over to the start.  I was an elite in this race, which meant a heated tent at the start/finish line where I could leave my bag, and also a set of private portajohns.  Very nice.

I dropped off my bag and gave the staff my water bottles for the course. As an elite, I was allowed to place bottles out just after the 6 and 11 mile markers.  I didn't intend to use either - it was a cool morning and a short race, so I'd just carry my handheld and toss it partway through - but I saw no reason not to place some extras out on course just in case.

Then I headed out for a jog.  It was a bit of a maze in the dark, and the riverside path that I had planned to warm up on was blocked off with fencing.  But I found an abandoned street where I was able to jog back and forth.

My normal warm-up for workouts and shorter races recently has been 4 miles, including 3:00 at half-marathon effort; 4x30 seconds at 5K effort, and 4x10 second at mile effort.  That seemed excessive for a half-marathon, so I modified it to just under 2.5 miles, with 3:00 at half-marathon effort and 2x30 seconds at 5K.  Then I jogged back to the elite tent to pick up my handheld.

In the tent, I chatted with some others - mostly about Vaporflies (most thought they were good but not THAT good) and Salazar (whom everyone was happy to see taken down).  Another woman in my age group and I got into a conversation about goals.  "Mindy" was also going for low 83 minutes, and liked my pacing plan of starting at marathon effort and easing into pace, so she asked if she could stick with me.    I gave her my standard lecture of "you are welcome to run with me, but I don't want to know what pace we are running."  And she was fine with that.

***

At 7:10 we were led out from the tent to the start line, where we were allowed to do some strides in between waves of the wheelchair racers leaving.  The National Anthem played and fireworks boomed and I was really glad I was a runner and not on a horse at that moment, because pretty much any horse would have spun at the noise and the smoke.  I was feeling slightly tight so I puffed my inhaler twice (bringing me to 4 puffs for the morning - I keep count because under USADA I'm allowed up to 8 puffs in 12 hours)

Then we were pulled back to the line, for the countdown and then the start.  And with a BOOM we were off.

***

I was careful to ease into pace over the first mile, which was uphill out of the starting area.  Mindy pulled ahead, then looked back and saw me, and decided to keep going.  So much for that plan.  Which was fine with me - I don't particularly need or want company when racing and get a bit uncomfortable being responsible for others' races.

I held marathon effort for the first 2 miles as others streamed past me.  Including, surprisingly enough, the 3:00 marathon pace group.  This group was accompanied by a chorus of protests -  "we're going out WAY TOO FAST - so it didn't worry me too much.  

About 2.5 miles in, there was a nice long downhill, so I used that to build momentum and ease into pace.  I didn't feel fantastic, but I didn't feel awful either, and the effort felt like one I could hold for the next 8-10 miles.

From there, I just held the effort, working my way past those who had passed me earlier.  The course had some gentle inclines up and down, as well as some straightaways that weren't truly straight - I focused on holding the tangents while everyone else followed the gentle curves.

At some point here, I passed Mindy and another woman - I was expecting both of them to try to hitch on, but neither did.  Later, I tried to look up Mindy to see how she did.  But I couldn't find any women named Mindy with elite bibs who were 47 years old, so either I got the name wrong or she dropped out.

***

About mile 8 I took my expresso GU.  My GI tract groaned and complained a bit, but then settled down.  So yay.  I continued with my work.

A mile later, though, I started running out of gas.  Just a deflated feeling, combined with stiffening quads, and my gait shifted towards a shuffle.  Much more like end-of-marathon legs than end-of-half-marathon legs.  Nothing to do but keep pressing forward.    I only had about 4 miles to go, and I knew that the last mile was downhill.  Plus, I was still passing women, even though a few men were passing me.

The next miles were hard.  There is an overpass near the end of mile 12 that seemed like a mountain, and I trudged up it.  My breathing tightened up as I climbed it, and never quite recovered on the back side, and so I just clung on for the last mile.  That mile was mercifully downhill, which minimized the damage, fortunately.  Per my plan, I lapped my watch at the marathon mile 26 marker (rather than the half-marathon mile 13 marker) and then started emptying the tank at that point.  I really didn't have much left, though, and the last 200m was a real struggle (can't wait to see the finish line video).

And then I was done (this time making sure to fully cross the finish line before stopping my Garmin). Someone grabbed me and I puffed my inhaler and then slowly made my way to the tent to sit for a good long time and suck on the inhaler once more (grand total of 6 puffs - still under the threshold).

***

Splits ended up being:

Miles 1-2: 13:21
Mile 3: 6:11
Mile 4: 6:21
Mile 5: 6:21
Mile 6: 6:15
Mile 7: 6:32
Mile 8: 6:29
Mile 9: 6:18
Mile 10: 6:26
Mile 11: 6:32
Mile 12: 6:26
Mile 13: 5:41 for .9 (6:18 pace)
last .21: 1:15 (6:00 pace)

So....it doesn't look awful, but not great either.  I wanted to close hard, but instead I faded, saved from a worse fate by the downhill finish.

It's frustrating, because I don't know how to read my fitness from this.  On the one hand, I had an off day, and I still set a half-marathon PR.  On the other hand, this is not the kind of performance that indicates that sub 2:55 for the marathon is a reasonable goal.

When people have poor half-marathons during marathon cycles, and describe it later as "I felt like I could have held it forever, but couldn't run any faster" - I don't get worried.  That happens during marathon training, and it's not a bad sign.  But...on the other hand, when you run out of gas and feel drained and exhausted in the final third of a half-marathon, it's not encouraging for going twice the distance in a few weeks.  But...again, there were external reasons for feeling so bad, and I'm just not sure how much weight to give them.

And as I look at the splits, I also wonder if I had waited just a bit longer to ease into half-marathon effort, would I have been able to close better at the end?

In the end of the day, for my pacing for the marathon, it doesn't matter.  I'll run Indy off of feel, the same way I always do, and just run the best I can.  But between now and then I really need to get my reserves built back up.

***

Other notes:

•  Weather was really great - temp of 55, DP of 42, no wind.  Pollen.com says pollen was low, but weather.com/sickweather says ragweed was high.  Pollen.com has been lying a lot this year, so I'm going with weather.com.
• I've run 3 half-marathons this year, and all three have been on very fast courses in fantastic weather, and I've underperformed.  My next half-marathon is Houston in January.  Perhaps we'll have not-so-great weather but I'll run really fast?
• I wore the Vaporfly Next for this race - my first longer race in them (I've worn them for a 5K and a few road miles).  After this race, I'm leaning towards returning to the original Vaporfly for Indy.  The Next is a great shoe, and much more of an all-around shoe that also works for shorter distances.  But for longer races, when I'm just trying to grind out at the end, I prefer the higher heel-toe drop and rolling action of the original Vaporfly.
• I'm due for my next Xolair shot today (Monday) - Xolair is the once-a-month shot that suppresses my allergies.  It often wears off in the last few days of the month, and I'm kicking myself for not moving the shot up and getting it before I left.  Perhaps it would have helped.
• Despite all my whinging about my own performance, Columbus really is a great race, and I recommend it highly to everyone.

Race Report: Broad Street 10 Miler, May 5, 2019

I ran the Broad Street 10 Miler today, finishing in a time of 62:28 by my watch - good enough for a new PR and 6th master female.

This is my 6th time running this race, so I know the course very well.  There's not much to know honestly - it's 10 miles in a straight line north to south, save for a quick swerve around City Hall just past the half mile mark.  The course is a slight net downhill that rolls a bit in the first 5 miles, and is mostly flat in the second 5.  It's a great course for my running style, since I like to ease into a pace and then lock on.  (of course, I don't know of many people that don't run well on courses with few turns and a net downhill).

After a slightly disappointing 63:01 at Cherry Blossom (that ended up not counting anyway), I was extremely motivated to come back to Broad Street and break 63 there.  And I had ambitions of even breaking 62:30, which was important to me because a) that's the time standard to qualify for my running team's elite development squad (which doesn't really change anything, but makes me happy) and b) earns me free entry as an elite to a local series of races.

The sticking point was going to be the weather.  As we approached race day, the forecasts got worse and worse.  There was a good chance of a tailwind, but.....it was going to rain during Broad Street.  And the forcecasts didn't describe it as "rain" but used terms like "washout," "downpour," "deluge."
Lovely.

Since my addition of non-slip pads to the soles of my crushed vaporflies had worked so well at the BAA 5K, I decided to try that again here, on the newer pair of flyknit vaporflies I've been wearing for longer stuff this year.  Since I had read about the insole of the flyknit vaporfly slipping around when the shoe got soaked, I also bought some superglue.

Unfortunately, my attempt to reinforce the insole-shoe nexus on Saturday afternoon resulted in what shall be known as the Philadelphia superglue incident of 2019.  The tube of superglue exploded onto both my hands, creating a white crusty scaly mess.

Fortunately, there was a convenience store right next to my hotel, so I was able to purchase some nailpolish remover there along with a replacement tube of superglue (I don't give up easily).  I can only imagine what the cashier thought when I provided my credit card with hands that were clearly suffering from some awful, most likely contagious, skin disease.

But...she took my money.  And the superglue-on-hand removal plus shoe application, try-two was without further incident.

***

When I woke on race morning, the first thing I checked was my hotel window.  Hm....not too bad.  And then I checked the tv news.  That was....less good.

Yup, this was going to be a soggy one.

Fortified by the lessons of Boston 2018 (and the comfort that this would be NOTHING LIKE THAT, just sub-optimal), I donned my sportsbra and shorts (not sure if you can don a sportsbra, but if you can, then I did).  Then a longsleeve t-shirt and poncho on top of that, water-proof shoe covers over my shoes, my trusty racing hat, and latex gloves on my hands.  With that, I grabbed my bag of dry post-race clothes and headed for the train.

Having done this race several times, I've learned that the SEPTA train is the best way to get to the start from Center City, where my hotel is.  But...there are two tricks.  First - leave early, since the trains get packed, and if you leave too late, you may not be able to board one (I left my hotel at 6:07 am, and it was exactly the right time).  Second, if you have a choice of two stations, board at the station earlier on the line, even if it means a further walk.   This is for the same reason - you want to be able to actually get on the train, rather than be shut out again and again.

I managed to squeeze onto the first train that came by, and from there it was a quick 20 minute trip to the start area.

***

I was an elite this year, which had some really nice perks.  The biggest was a bus that I was allowed to board and hang out on until I was ready to warm-up.  Instead of doing bag check, I left my bag on the bus - the race would transport it down for me and I'd be able to pick it up in the elite tent at the finish.  We also had our own set of private portajohns - a real luxury.

I hung out on the bus until around 7 am, and then headed out to warm-up.  I did 3 miles, including some 1-2 minute segments of harder running uphill to get my heart-rate up.  Then drills, strides, and more strides until it was time to load into the elite corral with 10 minutes to go.

 I had removed the shoe covers before starting my warm-up; the poncho and long-sleeve came off with 2 minutes until the gun.   My carefully applied non-slip pads were also peeling off from my shoe soles, so after a moment's thought, I peeled them off.  We'd just go without.

It was raining, but it was a moderate, steady rain, and not the dire downpour that had been predicted.  Not ideal, but far better than feared.  And honestly probably better than if it had been clear skies and humid.

Conscious of the fact that I was a contender for masters prize money (given by gun time) I lined up on the second row behind the line.  As always, I situated myself to the far right, since younger men much faster than me would be starting behind me, and them trampling me would not be good for either of our races.

***

With a bit less fanfare than I was expecting, we heard "on your mark" and we were off.    I had seen my friend Mike in the corral just behind me, and so it was a pleasant non-surprise when he pulled up next to me.  My plan was to go out conservative for the first mile (which everyone else hammers, since it's downhill) and then ease into pace.  Once I found that hard pace, I'd just hold that rhythm until I got within kicking distance.

Fortunately, Mike and I had similar plans, and so we ended up running close to each other for much of the race.  I can't say that we were side by side - I was maintaining what felt like my best steady effort, which meant slowing down slightly on inclines (can't really call them hills) or whenever we had some gusts of headwind, and rolling a bit more on declines and when the winds eased.  But we were pretty much in yo-yo-ing contact for the entire race.

I essentially paced this the same as Cherry Blossom, which means that there's not really much to note about the middle miles.  I had locked into that 10-mile pace feel, which seems very much like a red line that I can bump up against.  Since this is a very fast course and the cooling rain limited concerns about overheating, I was aggressive.  Not suicidal, but I wanted to be riding my edge, rather than safely below it.  Like always, I was ignoring my watch and splits, and just running off of effort and feel.

By mile 7, things were starting to get hard, and by mile 8 things were very hard indeed.  And mile 9 was AWFUL.  I was reeling in people , and that made life slightly more tolerable, though I still had to dig deep into my bag of mental tricks (focus on your rhythm, focus on your glutes, stay relaxed and SMILE) to hang on.  Finally, I saw the Navy Yard gate that marked 400m to go ahead of us, and I hit the red button to dump out whatever I had left.

[It's probably worth noting again that the fact I had a kick doesn't necessarily mean I could have run the middle miles any faster. Basically, I have an edge of effort that I can only step above for a few minutes.  When I finally do nudge above that, I can go pretty darn fast, but regardless of how fast I go, I can only step above that edge for a fairly short period of time before I crater.  Thus, I need to be strategic about what pace I hold in the late miles, and when I can finally go.  Though I keep thinking that perhaps getting better at racing 5Ks may increase how long I can hold that late race speed.]

My friend Brenda was in the distance, and I was reeling her in.  However, I wasn't quite able to make up the distance, and finished a few seconds behind.  Ah well.  I had raced well and left it all out there, and any day I do that is a good day.   As I had crossed, I saw the clock counting down 62:2x, so I knew I had set a big PR and broken that magical 62:30 barrier.

***

Immediately after finishing, Brenda and I were intercepted by the elite coordinator and told we were fourth and fifth masters.  This meant that we were assigned an escort who would lead us to the VIP tent and then to the awards.  So that was a lot of fun.

It became a bit less fun when about 10 minutes later they realized that they had missed one masters female finisher.  Thus, Brenda was now 5th master, and I was 6th (and no longer a money-winner, and no longer a VIP).  I was disappointed.  Really disappointed.  But....I had run well and wouldn't change anything about how I ran the race today.  There were just 5 masters women faster than me today, and it was what it was.  Plus, the satisfaction of breaking 62:30 was better than a 5th place masters award today (though I might have felt differently if it was top master).

Splits were:

Mile 1: 6:26
Mile 2: 6:20
Mile 3: 6:14
Mile 4: 6:14
Mile 5: 6:08 (slightly short/hit watch early)
Mile 6: 6:21 (slightly long)
Mile 7: 6:12
Mile 8: 6:14
Mile 9: 6:14
Mile 10: 6:06

Other notes:

• The weather ended up being mid-50s, with steady rain and a crosswind (the promised tailwind failed to manifest).  Not ideal conditions, but nowhere near as bad as forecast.
• Two days before Cherry Blossom, I did an uptempo 1600 in 6:16 (so 6:18 pace), and then raced Cherry Blossom at 6:19 pace.  This Friday, I did an uptempo 1600 in 6:09 (so 6:12 pace), and then raced Broad Street in 6:15 pace.  Before my next 10 miler, I'm going to do a 1600m all out time trial...
• My Garmin measured today's course as 10.03 miles (it had measured the infamously short Cherry Blossom 10 Miler as 10.04).  If they announce Broad Street was short, I'm gonna.....find another 10 miler to run, I guess.
• On that subject, the next time I hear someone talking about Garmins measuring long because of tangents (or claiming a race performance based on a Garmin measurement), I'm going to show them this image.

  

  My post-race cooldown shuffle through the buildings of Philly.

Race report: Gloucester 8K, February 23, 2019

I ran the Gloucester 8K in Gloucester, Virginia this morning, finishing in 31:27, which was good enough for the female win and a PR, so I guess this morning could be categorized as a success.

I had originally planned on racing the Gasparilla 8K in Tampa, Florida this weekend - it's a very fast 8K course, and every time I've been to Tampa in February, it's been perfect running weather in the morning.

However, not this weekend.  The forecast looked awful - 70 degrees with a dew point of 68 at race start.  Tough weather for racing in general, and really challenging for someone who has been training in sub-freezing temperatures.  Since my hotel could be cancelled and my flight was on Southwest (and so reusable), it was an easy decision to cancel the trip and eat the race registration.

(not to mention that I had a concert to go to on Sunday night, and it was going to be a hard turn around to race in Tampa Sunday morning, go to a concert in DC Sunday night, and then hop on a train to NYC Monday morning for work...)

But, I still wanted to race, and I wanted to do an 8K-5 miler if possible.  Both because my PR was ridiculously weak at that distance (my former 8K and current 10 miler PRs were at the same pace....) and because I'm trying to focus on the 5k-10K distances right now because I'm weakest there.  So....some digging revealed the Gloucester 8K on the same weekend in Southeastern Virginia, about 2.5 hours drive away.    A teammate who had run the race previously confirmed that the course was flat and fast, and my coach was on board with the idea, so I registered.


The race started at 9:30 am on Saturday, and so I debated driving down the morning of the race.  After giving some thought, I drove down Friday morning instead.  Hotels near Colonial Williamsburg were very very cheap since it's the off season, and since I telecommute, it was easy to check in early, and then just get a late start on an otherwise normal work day.    An additional consideration was that the forecast was for a steady rain - the type of weather that results in early morning accidents that snarl interstates - I didn't want to risk getting stuck in that on race morning.

So I drove down, checked in, grabbed Chipotle, and worked.  Then enjoyed a leisurely sleep-in (no cats to wake me) before driving to the race.

***

I had been crossing my fingers for the last few days, hoping that the forecast rain would hold off until after the race, but no such luck.  I woke to a cold steady rain.  Oh well.  After the gifts of weather that we had at Richmond and CIM last year, I had a balance due to the weather gods.

After parking and picking up my number, I went for a jog to warm-up and check out the start/finish area.  I noted that immediately after the start, we'd be running through a school parking lot with raised speed bumps.  Fortunately, one could avoid those by staying to the right - I made a mental note.  We'd return the same way (stay all the way to the left) and then would run through a narrow opening across a short grass section and up on to the high school track to finish at the 50 yard line.  

I wouldn't have been crazy about running on a short grass section (it was only about 10-15 meters) in dry weather, so I really wasn't happy about it given the current conditions - it was already soggy and muddy.  Additionally, I was sure it was going to be in much worse shape by the time the race was over, and I felt a preliminary twinge of guilt at contributing to the damage of school property.  Oh well, it was what it was - I wasn't going to skip the race over it.

***

I did two longer surges (about 50 seconds each), 4 short strides, and then lined up.  Some final instructions, including the location of the water stop that absolutely nobody was going to use today, and then we were off.

I knew no one in this race, and so I had no idea how the first few minutes would play out.    At the start, a few small kids surged past me (they came back within about 100m) and a pack of "looks like they're fast guys" in their teens and 20s pulled ahead with an authority that confirmed they were in another league.  I could hear one person steadily running and breathing behind me, but other than that I was alone.

Somewhere within the first mile, other-person caught up to me and then took the lead.  Cool.  I'd have someone to race.   We ran more or less together through the first turnaround.  After that 180, I looked for the second place woman, but saw none for at least 60 seconds, at which point I realized that I had the female win unless something disastrous happened.

A bit after that, I eased ahead of other-guy.  I hoped he'd come with me and fight, but 
he didn't follow.  I listened for his breathing and his footfalls, but eventually they faded away, and I felt alone again.  

The third mile of this race was a long straightway (nearly the full mile) into a slight headwind.  I would have loved to have had someone to chase, but I didn't, so I just focused on my steady hard effort.  And trying not to think about how soaked I was and how I felt like I was slipping a bit with each step.    

For shorter races - 10K and under, I find that I really need someone to chase or fight with to give my best effort.  This is for the very same reason that I prefer to do tempo workouts independent of others.  Having others with me tends to push/pull me to a harder effort - that's bad for tempo or marathon pace workouts, where too hard is counter-productive, but good for races, where it gives me that bit of extra oomph.  Without that benefit of someone to pull me, it was hard work to keep reaching beyond tempo effort.

The fourth mile brought the second turnaround - somewhere around there, other-guy caught back up.  The racer in me was disappointed, but another part of me was thrilled.  He pulled ahead, and I gave chase.  About this time, we were both passed by another guy who appeared to have started the race late and was now playing catch-up - ooops.

Back and forth we went, and then we made the final turn into the school parking lot.  He and I went back and forth, and then I pulled ahead (making sure to stay to the far left to avoid the speedbumps).  

Then I hit the grass patch.  I told myself not to worry about slipping, and just kept hammering.  And....I slipped and slid for the entire 15 meters of grass, my legs turning over like Fred Flintstone in his car.

I made it up onto the track and KEPT slipping - I'm guessing my shoe soles were still greased up from the mud - but got myself to the 50 yard line and the finish.  I was disappointed to see the clock counting 31:2x as I approached, but oh well - it was still a PR.  I had just hoped to be closer to 31:00 flat.

Splits were:
Mile 1: 6:19
Mile 2: 6:26 (Garmin says this was long, and my pace was 6:12)
Mile 3: 6:27 (Garmin says this was long, and my pace was 6:17)
Mile 4: 6:14 (Garmin says this was short, and my pace was 6:18)
last .97: 6:02 (Garmin says pace of 6:12)

I put the Garmin paces because I suspect that some of the middle mile markers were a bit off - I don't think I paced this race as unevenly as my manual splits indicate. Of course, my Garmin also claims the race was 5.03 miles instead of 4.97, and I'm sure that's wrong, so who knows.  The real answer is somewhere in the middle.

Oh well.  I can't say I'm totally happy with this morning's performance.   Part of my disappointment is the time, but more is that I feel like I could have run faster, but just didn't go as deep into the well as I have in other races.  I feel a bit unfulfilled.   But, a win is a win, and a PR is a PR, so I'll just have to run better and faster next time.  They can't all be great performances.

Other notes:

• The weather ended up being 41 degrees and steady rain, with gusts of wind.  And yes, I'm much happier I did this race than the one in Tampa - much better weather.  Runners will understand; others will not.
• I wore a longsleeve and shorts, plus a running hat and mittens over latex gloves with handwarmers.  This worked pretty well - I can't say I was truly comfortable, but it wasn't too bad.
• I wore my "second life" Vaporflies for this - the ones that have lost their bounce and so work much better at shorter distances.  They handled the two 180 degree turns on course just fine, but were definitely slick.  I felt like I was hydroplaning at times with the lack of traction on the wet roads and puddles.  I wish I had brought my Adios 2s - I think that shoe might have worked better for today.
• Traffic of course was awful on I-95 coming back.  However, I decided to experiment and take Route 17 to 301 in MD before picking up the Beltway.  That worked extremely well, and is probably going to be my default route for driving home from the Virginia Beach area from now on.

Race Report: Gridiron 4 Miler, February 3, 2019

I ran the Gridiron 4 Miler this morning, finishing in 25:16, which was good enough for the age group win and a new PR. 

(It's worth noting that my old PR from a few years back was 26:35 -6:39 pace, or slower than my half-marathon PR pace.  And I tempo 4 miles in 25 minutes and change when I'm in shape.  So PR-ing this morning wasn't all that surprising....)

The race was held in New York City, in Central Park.  So why would I head all the way up there for a 4 miler?  Well, there aren't very many 4 mile races these days, and I've also always wanted to do a Central Park race.  This race had a start time of 9 am, which made it very doable as a day trip if I took the 3:15 am train.  

When I tell people I'm taking the 3:15 am train, they look at me like I'm crazy.  Honestly, it's not bad at all.   Go to bed between 6:30-7 pm, with one's bag already packed and clothes laid out.  Roll out of bed at 2 am, get dressed, brush teeth, and drive to train.  

By 3:30 am, I'm asleep again on the train, sprawled across two seats with a blanket and an eye mask.  I then wake at 6:10 am have breakfast (which I packed) and brush my teeth again, and step off the train at 6:40 am into Penn Station.  It's not the best quality sleep, but the quantity (nearly 10 hours) balances it out, and I don't feel sleep deprived at all.

Once in NY, I grabbed the 2 train uptown, to go to 116th St in Harlem and my home-for-the-day - Blink Fitness 116th St.  

I'll digress here to note that only in NYC does one have to ignore the signs for the 2 train and go to the 1 train platform instead.  Why?  Because the 2 train routes to the 1 platform for "late night" service, and apparently this is common sense and obvious and everyone knows this.  Except me.  Because I come from a land where trains always use the platforms labeled for them.

Also, only in NYC is 6:55 am considered "late night."

Once at Blink Fitness, I bought a day pass for $15.  Took me all of 30 seconds to buy the day pass, plus another 2 minutes to confirm that I was paying $15 for a day pass, instead of committing to $15 a month for a membership.  

Did some stretching and locked my bag in a locker (keeping my driver's license, credit card, and cash on me - I always figure that no matter what happens, if I have those three things on me, I can get home).  Then I jogged the mile to the start in northern Central Park.

***

Bib pick-up was quick and easy.  A slight hiccup when I noted they had placed me in corral A, and not at the front in AA.  I tried to convince them to move me up, but they didn't care about any non-NYRR races I had run.  Oh well, it wasn't worth fighting too much for, since I probably wasn't quite in good enough shape to start up there anyways.

The good news was that they weren't handing out shirts until after the race, so I didn't have to use bag check.  That was 10 minutes saved.

More jogging, plus some 45 second pick-ups.  One interesting thing I noted was how hard it was to find an area to warm-up.  Every possible route was patrolled by volunteers who would point in a random direction to indicate where I should warm up (usually the opposite of where I had been headed.  So... I'd head that direction, and run afoul of another volunteer.  Eventually, via ping-ponging along East Drive, I was able to get an adequate warm-up.  Then, into my corral - A (*sniff*).

***

The gun/horn/whatever went off, and after a few seconds I crossed the line.  Though I've run in Central Park a few times over the years, it's always been at easy pace, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect.  I knew there would be hills, including the OMG Cat Hill in the third mile.  But I didn't know how bad they would be.  So... I went out conservatively (a fair bit of crowding in the first mile helped here).  Then I started to build - working the downhills and holding steady and positive on the uphills.  I didn't feel all that sharp, but I did feel strong - like the marathoner I've been for the last umpteen months.

As I ran, I noted (smugly) that several of the women in the AA corral were with or just ahead of me.  Shallowness can be very helpful sometimes - I decided I was going to beat as many of them as I could.

The course was a very simple one, basically a big square with rolling hills throughout.  I knew that OMG Cat Hill was in the 3rd mile, and that was where I really started racing.  From there, I smoothly hammered home.  Well - as best I could.  I just lacked a top gear.  

The finish line snuck up on me, and I didn't see it until shortly before I finished.  I'd like to pretend I could have kicked harder with a bit more warning, but the truth is that I doubt I could have.  I finished the race feeling like I could have held on for at least another mile, but couldn't have gone faster.

Not surprising - again, I think that's all that marathoning.  I've experienced the same thing in my recent workouts, where 6:4x at the end of a long run didn't feel too challenging, but 3 minute 800s were very hard.  That should change with several more weeks of focused training.

***

Afterwards, I jogged back to Blink Fitness, sent a few texts, changed shoes and removed my bib, and headed back out for a Central Park cooldown on a glorious Sunday morning.  Then back to the gym for injury prehab, foam rolling, and a shower, followed by Chipotle (plus black beans and hot sauce, since this was post-race), a stop at Midtown Comics, a NY Sunday Times purchase, and the 1:15 pm train home.  Really, a very fun day.

Splits were:
Mile 1: 6:33 (started watch a bit early, I think, but still a bit too cautious).  Starting slow is important, but this was a bit too slow for this short a race)
Mile 2: 6:16
Mile 3: 6:24 (OMG Cat Hill)
Mile 4: 6:05

As I noted above, I won my age group, and was 4th master behind three women in their 50s.  I am making a considered choice to take inspiration from this.  And am choosing to conclude that if I continue to train patiently and intelligently and with a long term mindset, I have more PRs at all distances ahead of me in the coming years.


I'm also really happy with how I executed this race.  Yes, I'm out of shape, and this is still out of sync with my other PRs.  And, I was probably too cautious in the first mile.  At the same time, I ran a coldly calculating, strategic race, free of the OMG-this-sucks-why-do-I-do-this that I often wrestle with in my first race or two post-break.  So that was nice.  The fitness will continue to come, and this was a good step back.
***

Other notes:
-We had great weather - mid 30s and sunny.  Some wind, but not really a factor.
-Debated what to wear, and went with longsleeve and light tights.  A few years ago, this would have been shorts/sportsbra weather, but my cold tolerance seems to have changed as I've aged.  I was a bit worried that I would feel overdressed, but I felt just fine - it was the right choice.
-Once again, very happy I did this as a day trip.  The 2 am wake-up sucks, but doesn't detract from my race, since I sleep so well on the train.  And it's really nice to be able to race in New York without giving up my whole weekend by traveling up the day before.  The only risk is missing my race if the train gets delayed en route.  So...if I really cared about the race, I'd likely go up the day before.  But the early train isn't bad overall, and is less draining than an hour+ drive.
-My 4 mile PR is still at a slower pace than my 10K PR.  I need to find a 4 mile race when I'm fit (easier said than done).
-Wrote this report on the cell phone.  Again.  I'm sure there are typos and other errors, and I doubt I'll get around to correcting them.  My blog, my sloth.

Race Report: California International Marathon, December 2, 2018

I ran the California International Marathon yesterday, finishing in a time of 2:57:42.  I'm not sure quite where I placed, honestly.  This race was about breaking 3 hours.

****

When a race matters to you, as this one did to me, I believe in controlling as many variables as possible (while acknowledging that you can't control everything).  That's why I flew out to Sacramento on Wednesday.  It's a long flight, and I've found in the past that it takes a lot out of me.  Flying out on Wednesday for a Sunday race gave me plenty of time to recover.  

Additionally, if I had left anything essential at home that I couldn't find in downtown Sacramento, it gave me enough time to buy a replacement on Amazon or have Brian ship an extra from home. Fortunately, I remembered everything and my luggage safely made it through to Sacramento so that was win.

[I usually UPS my stuff out ahead of time, and then travel with just a backpack that holds computers and racing outfit/shoes.  But because of the lingering air quality issues in Sacramento, I wasn't positive I was coming out until last weekend, and by that point it would have been over $200 to ship my stuff from DC in Sacramento by Wednesday.  Plus, with lingering weather issues in the Midwest, it was possible UPS shipments would be delayed.  So I crossed my fingers and checked a suitcase.]

I flew out on Wednesday afternoon east coast time, getting to my hotel around 5:30 that evening local time.  I stayed at the Inn off Capitol Park, which had a great location (close to the expo and finish) and a decent price, but was also a bit cramped, given that my plan was to lounge around until Sunday.   Next time, I think I'll stay in the same place, but probably upgrade to a suite.

***

The race was Sunday morning, which gave me plenty of time to kill.  It actually passed faster than I expected.  I had planned a Game of Thrones marathon, but never got around to it; instead I worked for a few hours on Thursday and did some (way too much) reading of race reports and commentary on CIM.  

I also "decorated" my bathroom mirror with a race time.  It's a little motivational thing that I like to do before races when I travel - I pick a random race time that seems like something that's right on the edge of my abilities. Something that would be believable if I ran it, but just barely.  I write that time on the hotel notepad and stick it on the mirror, so that I glance at it all the time.  It's a motivational trick - the more I see a time, the more reasonable and less scary it seems.  I'm not sure why it helps, since I don't look at my watch during races.  But it doesn't hurt. 

Thursday morning, I also trekked to the Sacramento YMCA for some light lifting and 30 minutes of pool-running, plus some foam rolling that felt really good post-plane ride.  Followed by my second day of Chipotle (had it in the airport on Wednesday pre-flight - another reason to fly out of BWI).

[Yes, I lifted upper body weights 3 days before my marathon.  The taper that works best for me is where I keep the rhythm of my workouts and the intensity, but reduce the volume.  This holds for both running and the rest of my fitness routine. So I went to the YMCA and lifted my normal weights, but sharply limited both the number of sets and the number of reps within a set.]

Friday, I ran a bit around Sacramento, hit the expo, and watched a lot of junk TV.  And more Chipotle.  Saturday was similar, with less running and the substitution of cheering at the CIM 5K for an expo visit (my teammate won the 5K - a good omen for the weekend).  And even more Chipotle (my final tally was 9 rice bowls consumed over 4 days....)

After finalizing my race plan on Saturday night, I settled down with a good book.  My race plan, as always, was effort based - I wouldn't check splits or paces until after the race.  The plan was a simple one - Careful from 1-5, then conservative.  Careful again from 8-13, and then conservative until 16, when I'd start racing.  If I had anything left in the last 2 miles, that was the time to empty the tank.  

As for the book?  I ordered cyclist Jens Voigt's auto-biography Shut Up Legs! onto my Kindle.  It was a great read, and the title seemed awfully appropriate for eve-of-marathon reading.

***

I had stayed on east coast time the entire trip, which made going to bed at 6:15 pm on Saturday night fairly easy.  I woke just before 3 am local time, which gave me plenty of time to eat breakfast, stretch, get dressed, and listen to my focus music (Orbital's "Halcyon On and On" and Underworld's "Dirty Epic" if you care - both tracks have the measured patient rhythm I lock into for a marathon).  And paint my nails black, as I always do pre-race.

 At 4:35 am, I met my teammate David in the lobby, and we walked to the start buses, getting there around 4:45.  This was perfect, as the buses started boarding at 5.  We were there early enough to get a good place in line, but not so early that we expended energy standing out in the cold.

The bus ride took about an hour, depositing us in Folsom around 6 am.  They keep the buses open and running (and thus warm) until 15 minutes before race start, which is one of the perks of this race.  I took advantage by stepping off to use the bathroom and refill my water bottle before climbing back in for a few moments to gather my thoughts.  Then I stepped back out, handed my gear bag off to bag check, and started to jog my warm-up. 

Similar to what I did at Grandma's, I jogged for about 3/4s of a mile, including one short pick-up (about 40 seconds) near the end to marathon effort.  Followed by eating some sports beans to top off the miniscule bit of glycogen I might have burned.  Then I lined up in the corral with David and another teammate, Aurelia.

***

I have two quirky things I like to do in marathons - things that go against current "runner common wisdom" but work for me.  One is racing off of effort, with my watch screen blanked. (I do still wear a Garmin, so that I have a record of the race later and also can prove that I ran the race if there's a chip issue or course cutting allegation.)  

It's been at least 5 years since I've checked my pace or splits during a race.  I'm told that this is crazy, especially in a marathon where I "need" to use my Garmin to keep my pace in check the first few miles.  Funny thing is, I don't seem to have any issues starting a marathon slowly, and I think not seeing my pace makes it easier, not harder, to stay chill early on.  It's easier to start slow if you don't know how slow you're starting.

The other quirky thing is lining myself up far behind the time I plan to run.  If gun time matters, then I'll suck it up and line up at the front.  But otherwise, I'd prefer to start the race with people who will be starting at the same pace as me, even if my plan is to finish at a completely different pace.  I hate being run over from behind or getting in others' way, and I also really like passing people.

In this case, that meant lining up well behind the 3:10 pace group, even though I planned to run sub-3.  This is a fairly small race, so I knew I'd have little issue picking up the pace when I wanted to.  And I liked the idea of having the 3:10, 3:05, and 3:00 pace groups to slowly reel in over the course of the race.  

***

The National Anthem was performed this time by a trumpet - I believe the trumpeter was a member of the band Cake, which is from Sacramento.  It was a really good version of the anthem - I think I prefer it to a singer.  

The only downside was that it was 6:56 am, and I wanted to shed my throw-away clothes before the 7 am race start, but I didn't want to do it until the conclusion of the anthem.  And it was a very slow version of the anthem.  Finally, with less than two minutes to race start, the anthem was done, and I quickly stripped.

I had pre-torn all of my gels before the race (I tear them about 1/3rd, so it's easier to open them while running) but had torn one too much, and it exploded over my right hip.   My entire right side was covered in lemonade roctane, and my shorts were stiff and stick - a sure set up for chafing. Who knew so much gel was contained in one tiny packet?   But the only way to clean it up was to use water from my handheld bottle, and that water was needed for more important things.  So I just sucked it up.  If that was the worst thing that happened during the race, I'd be doing well indeed.

***

Then the gun went off.  And we just stood there.   And stood there.  The start area this year was very narrow - half the size it was the last time I did this race.  Which meant that it took a long time to funnel to the start.  It didn't bother me too much - I cared about chip time, not gun time, and I liked the idea of giving the pace groups a big lead over me.

Finally we walked up to the line and were off.  I like to start my marathons very slowly.  My coach has us do our long runs as progressions - 1/3rd very slow (near 9:00 pace), 1/3rd moderate (usually around 7:30 ish), and then 1/3rd at marathon effort.  I actually run my marathons as a warped variant on this theme - same efforts, just different proportions.  So...about 10-20 seconds very slow, a mile or so at moderate effort and then ease into marathon effort for the next 25 miles.

Running it this way meant that the 3:10 pace group pulled further ahead, but I was fine with that. They'd come back.  If they didn't, then it'd mean I was having an awful day, and surging early was the worst thing I could do.

During these first miles, I also got a chance to chat with one of my Running Ahead forum friends - Robin (who ran a great race for a 7 minute PR).  

It's funny when I reflect, a day later.  I basically flew to the other side of the country, but between all my teammates and DC friends who came out for this race and my online friends who live and run in California, it almost felt like a local race.  Familiar faces and names the whole way.   The only difference was that I had no freakin' clue where I was. 

(and I've also never run a race where people hand out tissues on the race course.  Why do they do that?  What am I missing?)

***

Chatting with Robin also helped me forget about the fact that my right hip/groin/back was still slightly achy from the prolotherapy injections a few weeks ago.   Nothing that I couldn't run through; and I had been told specifically that it was fine to run through it.  But still, nobody likes to feel achy at the start of their goal race, and it bothered me that my right groin was slightly tight this early.


I got a bit more concerned about 5 miles in when my left hip started to be ever-so-slightly stiff and achy.  This was awfully early - was my left leg compensating for the right?  Or was this just an extremely late stage episode of taper-paranoia?  

Nothing was physically affecting my running at the moment, and so I decided not to let anything mentally affect me until it did start to alter my gait.  I forged on, filing my worries off to the side.

***

CIM is a rolling course.  I knew from running it before that the elevation map was NOT representative of the way the course actually ran.  And yet, I was still a bit surprised by the hills.  As many have said before, none are especially challenging but they keep coming and coming and coming.   And coming.  They just never end.

I'm not a great uphill runner, but I am a fairly good downhill runner, and so my pacing of this race tended to be problematic any time I caught up with a group.  I'd be running with them, and then we'd hit an uphill and I'd be dropped, only to catch up and then surge past on the downhill.  I think if you take a group of runners, and have them all run rolling hills at "even effort," you'll have a lot of variation in how each person paces, due to differing gaits, etc.

Thus, every time I caught up with large pack, I'd end up pushing the pace a bit on the next downhill to get out in front of them, so that I didn't have to deal with the annoying tidal flow.

***

The 3:10 group came back to me shockingly quickly, and then the 3:05.  By mile 10, I could see a large group just a bit ahead of me, and recognized my teammate Jenn's stride in the distance.  That was almost certainly the 3 hour pace group.  Cool.  A bit ahead of schedule (I had hoped to catch them somewhere after the half), but not terribly so.  And my hips were actually feeling better, though my hamstrings were starting to tighten slightly.  Not great, but still under control.  Energy and breathing-wise, I felt fantastic.

It was about this time that I heard "Cristina?" with a Russian accent, and realized that I was in the presence of the one and only CalBears (AKA Oleg) - another Running Ahead forumite.  Pretty darn cool.  We chatted a bit, and he confirmed that it was the 3:00 pace group ahead.  I noted that my plan was to start from behind and chase down the 3:00 pace group over the course of the race, and we reflected on how nice it would be if we could just write down our race plans and then be sure they would happen.  Then I wished him well and eased ahead.  He was going to hang with or just behind the 3:00 group as long as he could.

My plan, once I caught up to the 3:00 group, was to run with them for a while and then move ahead after a few miles.   Since I started so far back, sticking with them would give me a time well under 3 hours.    I didn't see Jenn in the group, but I did sync up with another woman in a GRC-Pacers singlet (another DC team), and we ran together for a bit. 

She was good company, but it didn't take long for me to start feeling claustrophobic.  There were just too many runners too close to me, and I started to tense up.  My discomfort was amplified by the fact that (like before) my uphill/downhill pacing was slightly different from the pack's.  

So I used the next downhilll to pull ahead and get free of them.  I think it was about this time that I saw my teammate Mollie and forum friend Jim cheering for me.  More friendly faces.

***

As I noted, my hamstrings had started aching around mile 10 (early) and by 15 or so, they were taut and my left quad was also starting to hurt.  This was a bit disappointing - my quads had been fine at both Boston and Grandma's, and I had done a fair bit of downhill marathon effort running this cycle specifically to prep them.  So why was one squawking now?  

In all likelihood, it was my flowing just a bit too much on the downhills during this first half.  I hadn't been careful enough.  D'oh!  Oh well.  It was still manageable.  

I had planned to start racing at this point, but I revised that plan to "hold it here and bring it in safe."  I had been making an effort to drink a lot of water during this race (refilling my water bottle several times) even though it was a cold morning in hopes that it would help limit the muscular issues.  Now I redoubled those efforts.  

The next miles were about staying in the moment, eating and drinking as much as I could, and engaging my core.  My energy levels and breathing were great, and I didn't need to do anything spectacular - I just needed to keep my rhythm.  Somewhere around here, I caught up with Jenn.  We chatted briefly, but we were both hurting.  I wanted to urge her to stick with me, but I didn't have enough in me to get the full sentence out AND keep my form and hold my pace.

The bridge at mile 22 into Sacramento seemed much harder than I remembered last time.  Possible because my legs were so stiff.  Thankfully, nothing was cramping and energy levels were still solid, but everything was super tight, and my gait felt awful.  Like I had swapped the round tires of a bike for square ones.

But I knew I was ahead of the 3 hour group, which meant I was going to break 3, and all I needed to do was to keep doing what I was doing.  I didn't have that much further.  And if there's one thing I can do, it's lock into a rhythm and hold it.

***

At mile 24 we made a left and then right - the next turns would be into the finish chute.   I was no longer focusing on the mile I was in; rather I was running one block at a time.  23rd st....22nd....21st....  

The streets were lined with people smiling and cheering, and I wanted to be one of them so much it hurt.  I told myself I could stand there 20 minutes from now.  Right now, I had to keep the rhythm.

For the first time in the race, people started to pass me.  Not many, but some  It was frustrating, but I knew the worst thing I could do was to tense up and try to force things.  So instead, I relaxed and flowed forward, trying to un-stiff as much as I could.  I know that L street is pancake flat and the winds were calm on Sunday, but damned if it didn't feel like I was running up the Capital Crescent trail towards Bethesda into a brisk headwind.

I had mapped the course out, and so I knew that 15th street was the 1200m mark, and 12th street was the 800m mark.  I tried to go, but emptying the tank really just meant continuing to run at this point.   My legs were locked.

Finally, blissfully, I saw "400m to go," followed by the mile 26 marker.  I tried to kick as I came around the first turn, but it didn't happen for two reasons - 1) I just couldn't.  2) the corners had some wet leaves strewn on them - remnants of yesterday's rain.  It took a massive effort, but I swung a bit wide on the turn to give the storm debris clearance, to avoid slipping and falling.  

Then I saw the "200m to go" sign, and started counting seconds.  I pumped my arms and increased my cadence to get to that finish line as quickly as possible.

As I approached the finish, I saw the clock flip over to 2:59:00, and I knew I was going to go safely under 3 hours.  I didn't know by how much, but I was fairly sure it had taken me at least 20-30 seconds to cross the start mat after the gun.  So maybe 2:58 high?  Fantastic!

I got myself over the finish mats and stooped, hands on knees.  After a few seconds, I looked at my watch, realized I hadn't stopped it, and stopped it.  And my time popped up on the screen.

2:57:48 - which meant I was likely a few seconds faster.

I saw the number, but couldn't process it.  I knew I was physically capable of running that on a perfect day, but it was incomprehensible that I actually had just done so.  Especially when so much of the race felt like it just wasn't quite my day.

Splits were:

Mile 1: 7:27

Mile 2: 7:06

Mile 3: 6:48

Mile 4: 6:35

Mile 5: 6:42

Mile 6: 6:35

Mile 7: 6:37

Mile 8: 6:41

Mile 9: 6:49 (hit late, I think)

Mile 10: 6:33

Mile 11: 6:44

Mile 12-13: 13:32 (6:46)

Mile 14: 6:46

Mile 15: 6:41

Mile 16: 6:44

Mile 17: 6:33

Mile 18: 6:43

Mile 19: 6:41

Mile 20: 6:49

Mile 21: 6:49

Mile 22: 6:47

Mile 23: 6:51

Mile 24: 6:48

Mile 25: 6:53
Mile 26: 6:59

last bit: .21 in 1:29 (7:03)

I split it as 1:28:48/1:28:56.  A very slightly positive split, and so I'm very slightly annoyed.  But a very small thing in the larger context of the race as a whole.

***

It's funny.  From time to time during this cycle or even post-race, I heard people repeatedly referring to "deserving" a good race or a BQ or a trials qualifier.  


Every time I hear or read that expression, I remember one of my favorite scenes from Neil Gaiman's early Sandman work.  The incarnation of Death, in the form of a well balanced, cheerful goth girl, is helping someone upon their passing.  The person looks at her, describes his life, and says "pretty good, huh?"  

She responds: "you lived what anybody gets....you got a lifetime."

Similarly, at the end of the day, anyone who makes it to the starting line gets the same thing as payment for their hard work.  An opportunity to race.  That's it.  Nothing more. 

So many people have worked so hard for so long, but it didn't quite happen on race day.  And that's not a matter of deserving it or not - you can do everything right both before and during, and it still doesn't happen.  That's racing (and life).   If your race didn't go well, it doesn't mean that you didn't work hard, or that you weren't deserving.  


But every once in a while, you work hard, and try to do everything right, and control all the variables, and the running gods smile in addition to that.  

And if those running gods are really in a good mood, you end up beating that pie-in-the-sky time you scribbled and taped to the hotel bathroom mirror 4 days prior.  

Other notes:

• Conditions were 40 degrees at the start, 48 at the finish.  Good air quality, overcast skies, mild humidity, no wind.  Really really good weather.  Like it is most years at this race.
  
• Amazingly, I did NOT chafe at all despite the pre-race shellacking of my right side with lemonade rocktane.
  
• I wore my Vaporfly 4%s for this race, as I did for Boston and Grandma's, plus the Houston, Love Run, and Richmond halves and Army 10 Miler.  This pair now has nearly 200 miles on them.  And the higher the mileage on them, the more I like them.  They're much less bouncy now, and feel much more stable.  It's funny that the very characteristic that so many others love about the shoe (the bounce) is my least favorite aspect.   And...since I'm wearing the original version (light blue) while everyone else seems to have the red flyknit, I don't think anyone realizes I'm wearing Vaporflies…
  
• Final gel consumption during this race - nine gels (I carried twelve, and finished with one.  I also dropped one on course and had another one explode at the start).  I also had four gels as part of my pre-race breakfast.   After the race, I was chatting with several of my male teammates (all much taller than myself, and thus heavier) and came to the awkward realization that my caloric requirements before and during a marathon are much higher than anyone else's.  I've always thought of myself as a diesel, but maybe I'm actually one of those awful toy scooters that gets 3 miles to a gallon of gas.
  
• There were plenty of fast times at CIM again this year, leading to plenty of statements about how CIM is a ski-slope course, and times here aren't legitimate.  I don't think the fast times at CIM are due to the course.  As so many others have said, the course elevation diagram is not at all representative of how the course runs.  There is a fair amount of climbing on this course, and it beats your legs up.  I am much more sore now than I was after either Grandma's or Boston this year.  Considering just the course profile itself, I would consider Chicago, Shamrock, and Grandma's to all be slightly faster courses than CIM.
  
  So, why is CIM so fast?  Because every other element that contributes to fast times is here.  The weather is perfect for racing a marathon here almost every year, and everything about the race facilitates fast times.  Tons of water stops, tons of toilets at the start, heated buses until 15 minutes before, few turns on course.  Just the right number of runners to give you company but not to block your way.
  
  Additionally, people come here to run fast times, to hit time goals, and it gives this race a unique vibe.  Most races are a mix of competition and completion, while Boston seems to be about celebration (which is probably the biggest reason I didn't enjoy Boston, even after controlling for the weather - it just felt a bit narcissistic).
  
  CIM is a mass time trial as much as a race; at times I felt like every single person on the course was my teammate for that day, encouraging me along.  It's collaborative, not competitive (at least at the sub-3 level), and I've never experienced that in any other race.  It is an amazing experience, and a must-do if hitting a certain time goal is really important to you.
  
• Another note to east coasters considering this race - it's really not that expensive.  I've done three marathons this year - Boston, Grandma's, and CIM.  Of the three, CIM was the cheapest in terms of combined air fares, hotels, and food expenses while there, even though I stayed in Sacramento several more days than I did in Duluth or Boston.  Don't rule this race out as too expensive until you do the math.
  
• Got to meet my (formerly on-line only) friend Audra in person, finally.  She and I have known each other across at least four different forms of social media (Live Journal, RunnersWorld Online, Facebook, and blogging) for nearly 10 years.  We're the same age, with the same humor, and we're both runners who are crazy about cats.  But we'd never actually met until now.  That was really special, and made the trip worth it on its own.
    
• CIM was 26.2 miles, which I covered in 2:57:42.  BWI airport is 30 miles from my house as the crow flies, and it took me 3 hours to get home after my flight landed - longer than my marathon.  Why?  Because I had the unfortunate luck to arrive back in the DC area at the same time as the casket of President George HW Bush, meaning that instead of driving through DC to get home, I had to go around the city on the beltway.  In evening rush hour.  If this happens again I may just hang out at BWI for a few hours.  Though I may have to find something to eat besides Chipotle.
  
• I still can't fucking believe I ran that fast.