An Epic Race Report: The Story of a Great Way to Leave REALLY Intense Marathon Training

Let me warn you that this is about 5000 words.  

Let me begin with the start of the weekend.

The training plan had me doing one last 3 mile run on Saturday, November 22.  It was a rather cold morning, so I had on an Under Armour shirt  and a windbreaker, gloves, a hat, and running tights.  The run felt effortless other than dealing with the cold. 

Then, I showered and had a quick breakfast (I don’t recall what I had) and took my 15 year old to the zoo for his volunteer work that he does every Saturday.  Came home from that and washed some dishes.  Saw my wife and nine year old off to look at used ski wear.  Packed my bags and went to the Waldorf School for the annual fair where I worked in the children’s shopping room and then drove to my Godmother’s house in Upper Darby.  At two Clif Bars along the way for lunch.  My Godmother lives less than a half mile from the house I lived in longest with my parents.  After a brief greeting (it was just a little past two), she drove me down to the Pennsylvania Convention Center to pick up my race pack.  The drive was horrendous as we got east of 20^th street and headed for the convention center. 

I eventually got out about a block ahead of the convention center on 11^th (coming from the south) and went in.  I picked up my bib number and my bag, and got some additional cold running gear and a “go belt” that would hold me four gels the next morning.

I knew a number of people who would be at the race the next day but didn’t see anyone I knew at the expo.  That was okay.  I only knew a handful of people and I had not made prior arrangements to see anyone.  I went back outside and waited for my Godmother to come around the block.  Then she took me to Tony Luke’s to grab dinner.  This is a really well known sandwich shop in South Philly.  Some of the characteristics reminded me of the soup Nazi episode on Seinfeld.  At that time of day it wasn’t overly crowded.  So the line was a bit informal.  The cashier asked everyone “What can I do for you, baby?”  Or she used some other term of endearment every time she spoke to a customer.  Then, the sandwiches would get made and a second person would call out names.  She seemed to have only one volume—loud.  I suppose in the summer with the plastic tent that surrounded the place open it would make sense to be loud.  Or if someone were around the corner from the window getting pickles.  My Godmother had ordered two pork and provolone sandwiches with spinach.  She doesn’t like broccoli rabe and I decided not to question the choice although several people pointed out how unusual the choice of spinach seemed. 

We drove back to her house and ate.  The person who had developed my training plan had told me to eat no less than 12 hours before the race.  We were done well before 7 PM.  It was not exactly carb loading, but it was a wonderful and filling sandwich.  This pork sandwich (and the pork was nicely spiced with pepper) was as big as a full sized hoagie.  Then we watched two recorded episode s of Hawaii Five-O and then I went to sleep after taking a picture of “flat runner” with what I would wear the next day laid out on the bed. 

Asleep by 9:30 on Saturday night. Plan to be at the race start by 5:30 the next morning. 

I woke up at 1:50.  Then I woke up again before 3.  Then, finally, I got out of bed at 3:15.  Goal was to eat a little something 4 hours before the race.  I didn’t quite manage that but I had two pieces of toast with margarine at that early hour.  All good.

I then wanted to take a quick “wake me up” shower.  I don’t always do that before a race but it just felt like the thing to do.  My Godmother lives in a house with narrow steps to the upstairs room that have somewhat worn carpet at the edges.  I slipped coming down the steps to take my shower. Where I hit my hip on the step when I fell still hurts more than anything else.  Did it affect me in the race?  I’ll never know.  I did feel it.  But I didn’t let it distract me.

Shower done before 4.  Then hanging until 4:45.  Tried to get everything other than what I had just consumed that was still anywhere in my digestive tract or intestine out. 

Drive downtown.  Incredibly quick.  Drank a half liter of water on the way.  (Check on hydration.)  Dropped off at 22^nd and Arch well before 5:30.  No real line at the security check point.  I opened my bad for the security person to look in.  He didn’t even really look but waved me through.

I walked toward Eakins oval.  It was still not 5:30 yet.  I knew where I’d drop off my bag.  I knew where the porta-potties were.  And I tried to relax.  It was cold and the wind started picking up.  Without the wind it was not so bad.  I ran through what I wanted to wear.  Go Belt packed with 4 gels.  Decided not to carry phone.  Didn’t have keys with me anyway.  Decided I could lose the sweatshirt I’d brought. Decided not to lose the sweatpants.  Decided to go with arm warmers, gloves, and hat as planned the night before in my flat runner picture.  All go.

A couple trips to the porta-potty before much line.   (My system was always needed to be cleaned out like that—even as far back as high school track meets.)  Then one last trip at about 6:20.  A little earlier than planned.  But after that the line was incredibly long.  Couldn’t plan to go again.  Would have to take my chances.  Checked my bag at the FARM to FUHR UPS truck.  And headed for the maroon corral. 

When I got to the black corral, I managed to make my way to the front and didn’t see where the break was.  I asked a volunteer (preceding my question with “This is probably a stupid question, but…) and was directed to the right.  I realized it was the first corral but it was incredible to be so close to the start of a 30,000 person race.  My bib number was 607, so I had earned it.

I met up with Saturday Steve from Baltimore.  It was great to see someone I knew.  We exchanged greetings.  It was now 6:45.  Time to consume two gels.  Then I listened to a variety of people from the race.  The MC.  The race director.  The governor elect.  The mayor.  (He was really energetic.)  Then an excellent tenor singing the national anthem.  Next, the wheel racers got a start just before 7 with Rocky  music blaring.

After the wheel racers headed out, it was time for the runners to get ready.  A couple of elite runners started a bit before intended and were called back.  We all waited patiently.  Then, the Rocky trumpets again.  The race began.

I had spent the time in the corral as the race start approached looking for one of my training partners.  I have known Jackie since 2011.  She is the Executive Director of Back on My Feet in Baltimore.  She has held a number of positions within the local branch of the national organization in the time I have known her.  I have known her as my part-time MPH program advisee.  I attended her wedding.  I have seen her develop professionally.  She is an endless source of energy and optimism.  And I had trained with her at least once a week for much of the summer and fall.  She had told me that her main goal was to help to make sure I achieved my goal.  Two years ago she had run an incredible race in Philadelphia.  She did not plan to set a personal best yesterday as that was not her goal for this year.  But I did not see her.  I’d received a text from her earlier offering good luck and saying that she hoped to see me.  But I didn’t see her yet.

Despite not being that far back, it seemed to take forever before the people directly in front of me moved and I could begin jogging and head into a run.  The official timer had me 42 seconds behind the actual race start.  That was a long 42 seconds.  Those of you who read The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy know that 42 was the answer to life the universe and everything.  It really was yesterday. 

We headed from the area near the Art Museum toward the Delaware.  First mile felt easy enough once I got my pace and I understood that at one point runners could choose which side of a traffic circle to go around.  Time—7:14 down the Ben Franklin Parkway.  My coach had told me to think about trying to run 7:09’s for the first seven miles.  I didn’t let a few seconds in the first mile phase me at all. 

Second mile actually takes you close to the water.  Again, felt effortless which is what the person who had planned my training had told me to look for.  First fun sign—“WORST PARADE EVER”.  Ran a 7:04.  Perfect for a 7:09 average at the two mile point.

The fact that my last bathroom stop before the race was “early” finally caught up to me.  Yes, it was only a little over two miles in, but I was feeling like I was going to have to go at some point so I might as well stop.  There were porta-potties but there were all in use.  So, I did what several other guys were doing and just peed against the wall.  Not pretty—but effective.  And not so different than what happens in Boston. 

That cost about 30-40 seconds, but I ran the rest of mile 3 going down Columbus Boulevard strong and came through with a 7:17.  Didn’t phase me as I felt great.

Mile 4 continued along Columbus, just a block from the riverfront, past some places I’d been for conferences then turned back into the city.  One person said, “mile 4 is just around the corner”.  That was a bogus comment, although I didn’t let the fact that mile 4 was not, in fact, just around the corner phase me.  Time—7:03.  Still feeling effortless. 

Mile 5—I don’t remember much specifically and I ran a 7:07. 

Mile 6—7:11.  That was probably the first time I noticed this one woman I played leap frog with for much of the race.  She ended up coming in a couple of minutes ahead. 

Mile 7—the last of what had been planned as care free miles at the start.  Ran it in 7:00.  I knew that I was playing a dangerous game with speeds that fast.  But it just felt so easy.  20 weeks of training was paying off.  I just had to avoid pushing too hard. 

When mile 7 ends, the course for the first time takes a definite and long upward turn as runners go through University City and head north.  There is a climb of about 100 feet that proceeds pretty gradually but is the entire mile.  I believe it was during mile 8 that I saw Marcus for the first time.  I used to train with Marcus but he is injured right now.  His wife was running.  I was glad to have a friendly face I knew cheering me on as we ran up toward the zoo.  Mile 8 with its climb—7:05.  Surprised myself on that one.   

The start of mile 9.  Time to figure out how to take my first gel on the course.  I peeled off my gloves and pulled whichever of the two gels I reached out of the holder in the Go Belt.  It took me at least half of mile 9 to get the gloves off, get it out, rip the top off, and consume it.  Mile 9 is mostly down with an up at the end.  Cruising at 6:58 based on my Garmin.  Really took advantage of the downhill.  The person who developed my plan had told me to take advantage.  She had spent a lot of time listening to my trials and tribulations of trying to get better results out of marathons and noting how hard it was for me to close.  She didn’t want me to have to crush the end to meet my goal.

On to mile 10 with the gloves back on.  This was another mostly up around the south side of Fairmount Park.  Not much to say other than that I pushed and got 7:13.  Not bad at all.

Mile 11 is largely flat and takes you to the south side of the Schuylkill River. Recovered and ran 6:55.  Strictly too fast but was still feeing awesome.

Miles 12 and 13 are a run mostly along the river and flat although mile 13 does start up toward the Art Museum as the half marathon runners are turning to finish.  I ran each of those in  7:09.  Thought I was hitting my stride.  I noted the half marathon marker on the marathon course as I ran over it for a time.  Knew that I had a really good time.  The official results from today say 1:33:51.  I’ve only had three half marathon races that I race faster than that.  And the one time I ran with Jackie just for kicks to prove I could hold 7:00 for the entire distance. 

So, on into the second half.  The remainder of mile 14 and all through mile 17 was pretty flat.  A slight rolling hill.  Looking at the markers for the miles on the way back.  Wondering when I would see the lead runner coming the other way.  Did see a wheel racer who was cruising the downhill and encouraged all the runners as he went by.  So different from earlier in the race when I’d passed wheel racers going up hills and tried to encourage them.  Those miles went by like clockwork.  14—6:59.  15—7:05.  16—7:05.  17—7:10.

At this point, I had been taking either Gatorade or water with Gatorade more frequently at ever station.  Now, my stomach was starting to slosh.  And I knew there was an odd loop coming and some more hills.  Just trying to focus.

Start of mile 18.  Time for the last gel.  This time, my stomach was continuing to slosh and it was hard to get the gel down.  The one with caffeine had been consumed back at mile 9.  This one had B complex vitamins and electrolytes.  Hoping for the best.  Mile 18 does this odd thing where you cross the Schuylkill, do a loop around a turn around point, and then go back.  What I didn’t realize before hand was that the loop away from the point where I crossed the river was down and then I had to climb back up.  I had been passing people more than being passed from about mile 6 to where I was.  Now, people were starting to pass me.  As I was going back up the hill back toward the river, I heard Jackie yell at my from the downside of the hill.  Excellent!  Maybe she would catch me and we could run the rest of this race together.  I’d wait and see.  Finished mile 18 on the north side of the river—7:22.  Starting to be concerned.

Mile 19 was a continuing run a bit up into Manayunk.  My officla time at 30K suggests that overall I was keeping a 7:09 pace.  Clearly I had bought myself some time early.  The key question now was whether I had tried to bank too much and would just fade as I had done in my previous marathons.  I wasn’t able to regain any speed at this point.  Only lost a little bit as I ran a 7:24.  Wondering where the final turn around was.

So, I turned at the last place where there was a turnaround pole.  I think there were a total of three on the course.  The hill in Manayunk is noticeable but not really that bad.  I heard Jackie call to me again as I was in the earliest art of running back toward downtown.  She was a little closer.  Maybe she would catch me soon.  Mile 20 was completed as I was running back toward the main part of the city—7:34.

 So, now heading a little more down than up along Main Street.  Mile 21 I did get a little back and ran 7:25.  Maybe, just maybe I could still do this.  The woman with whom I’d played leap from most of the day passed me for the last time.  I know her only as Megan.  She was a solid (and more consistent) runner. 

As I completed that mile and headed into mile 22 things began to get a little surreal.  I remembered the Lower Potomac River Marathon when I qualified for Boston.  I had reached a point at which all I focused on was getting under 3:15 (what I needed to qualify for Boston).  While that day I was not running against my friend Rob, I had beaten him in several 20 mile or longer races.  And I thought it would be cool to have a faster Boston Qualifying time than he did.  That didn’t happen that day as I faded but hung on for dear life and it was the only time that the mileage after 26 was run at a sub-7 pace in my 5 previous marathons.  I began to wonder if just getting a personal best would be okay.  If I could just make it.  How much could I slow down and still be okay.

All that was going through my head as I ran mile 22—out of Manayunk and continuing back toward to much sought after finish line.  I was losing it.  I ran a 7:36.

At this point it was a matter of trying to figure out if I had anything left.  I’d passed two people I spent some time this summer training with.  My “surrogate running daughter” for the Father’s Day race and our mutual friend Travis.  They encouraged me and later posted that I looked strong.  I suppose a 7:36 that far into the race might look strong but I wasn’t feeling it there.

Then, I heard that familiar voice—“How are you feeling, Kevin?”  It was Jackie. She had caught up to me.  And she was asking one of the most common questions runners ask each other.  I told her I wasn’t sure what I had left.  I told her I’d felt great early but was paying for it now.  I believe she said something to the effect of, “You’ve got this.  You’ve worked too hard not to get this.”  That was all she needed to say.  But to me it was a reminder.  A reminder that I’d trained harder than ever for 20 weeks.  I’d gotten up at crazy early hours and run the 20 mile race on Labor Day weekend, plus another 20 and another 20 and a 22 and a 24.  She’d run several of those with me.  She’d done track workouts with me.  She’d done progressions and tempos with me.  And not only was it my work at stake it was hers. And it was Shannon’s too.  Shannon had helped me plan for this.  And it was Lauren’s—who had run with me.  And Travis.  And Melissa.  And my friend Joselyn with whom I’d been running since the summer of 2011.  And my family and all that they had to deal with in terms of my running.  Jackie said, “This is what you’ve worked for!”  And we went.

I don’t know where it came from.  But I stabilized what had otherwise been a slide for most of the past five miles and ran a 7:33 for mile 23.  My friend Marcus was there again (he’d ridden his bike).  He gave a big cheer. 

We reached a guy running shirtless with  “VEGAN POWER” written in black on his back.  He asked what was keeping us going and if he could borrow some.  Jackie said sure.  But he didn’t stay with us for long.

Somehow for miles 24 and 25 I ran 7:15 and 7:17.  I don’t know where the energy came from to bring my pace back down more than 15 seconds per mile.  I do know that it is always easier for me to run with someone.  Particularly someone whom I know can run faster than I can.  Particularly someone with whom it is just a joy to run.  Every once in a while Jackie would pull just a little ahead.  Then, I’d come up even with her.  Then she’d pull ahead again.  Never so far as to lose me.  Always making sure that I got pulled along.

Not physically pulled along. That brought back a memory of my first 5K run at a practice in high school at which one of the upper classmen did essentially pull me along physically.  This was all mental. 

As we entered mile 26, I asked her “You don’t mind if I collapse on you when we finish, do you?”  She said, “No, that’s why I’m here.”  We continued on.

Another Penn State sign.  More Back on My Feet cheers.  We passed a couple of local guy who runs with Falls Road.  (Can’t say this was all in the last mile but it was definitely as we approached the end.)  More cheers.  We pushed. I felt just a little off.

Having a Garmin 10 I don’t have all of total time and pace and distance on my watch at the same time.  I kept switching back and forth to reassure myself that there was a chance.  My watch beeped for 26 before the sign.  I’d slipped back to 7:24.

But that was not because of how I was running when we got to the 26 sign.  As soon as I’d seen the sign for 26, whatever I had left got turned on.  My watch had us running 26.36 total.  According to my watch, I ran the 0.36 miles between when it says I ran 26 and the finish line in 2:21.  That is a 6:27 mile pace.  I could see the finish line.  I could tell that we had a sub-3:10 as a possibility.  The finish line was wide open.  There were no chutes.  There was no one to take the bib or any part of it.  No timing chips to rip off.  Just a clear finish line.  I could see the time.   I knew that I was going to get under 3:10 if I just pushed because of what I thought was a 38 second difference between my watch and the race clock. 

For once, I raised my arms above my head in joy as I passed the finish line.  We had done it.  3:09:49.  (Although at the time I thought it was 52.  I’d started my watch at the first place rather than the second where we passed a timing device at the starting line.) 

I didn’t collapse.

I did need help.

Jackie guided me through.  A heat sheet.  (Mylar.)  The medal.  A bottle of water.  A banana.  A Macy’s bag with an OJ and a bad of chips.  A soft pretzel.  And then we got to the broth.

Jackie described what it had done for her after a previous race. Warmth was good.  Salt was golden. 

We ran into Saturday Steve.  He’d had a good race.  We ran into our friend Curt.  He had been aiming for 2:50.  He didn’t get it but he ratcheted back to a 2:54.  He took a picture for us after I claimed my bag with my iPhone in it.

Jackie went back out on the course to find Patrick.  He ran a pretty good race. 

I finally sat on the curb to put warmer clothes on.  Messaged my Godmother.  Walked to 22nad and Chestnut and waited in the sun.

A few other interesting facts.  First, two other fun signs: I thought you said “RUM” and The Pain is Temporary but Internet Race Results are Forever. 

At one point I saw people with a Penn State banner and shouted “We Are”.  The answered with the obligatory “Penn State.”  They had a fair number of members of their club cross country teams there. 

Got a lot of shout outs for my Back on My Feet shirt.  Even saw what looked like a whole cheering section from the Philadelphia group. 

Afterwards, I received many congratulatory comments.  But I really owe this one—as I mentioned—to my immediate family, Jackie, Shannon, my Godmother, Lauren, Travis, Melissa, and Joselyn.  On Joselyn’s FB page, my time came up and she posted “My running partner…Way to go.”

I even would mention my boss.  We talk about how sometimes we try, fail, and fix.  That is what I did after NCR Marathon 2011.  Even after I qualified for Boston in 2012, I tried to fix my fading at the end. Didn’t work at Boston.  This time, I fixed it.  And it worked. And it was amazing.  

Yesterday, I had numerous people who believed I had done everything I needed to in order to achieve the goal. 

Everyone other than me.

Now I believe.

But I mustn’t let it go to my head.  Instead, it is just a sign that I must always work this hard, stay focused, and not settle to achieve goals in life.   

And, despite all the planning I'd done--listening to inspirational Rocky music; thinking about St Sebastian; thinking about how at mile 20 I would reach 2000 miles and the church of Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico--I just needed one thing to get me through.  A friend by my side.

I am glad to have reached 2000 miles.  My Truth or Consequence was Truth.  I could reach me goal.  I had reached my goal.  And I will go on reaching goals.  

And seems like the Beatles once had something to say about "Getting by with a little help from my friends." 

Lessons from a Fun 5K

So, yesterday I ran a 5K called the Heather Hurd 5K.  It is organized in remembrance of a young woman killed by a distracted driver.  The pictures of multiple individuals killed by distracted drivers on display at the race yesterday (left) is haunting.  There are many reasons car accidents happen and will continue to happen. This one can be avoided.  Maybe someday everyone will catch on.  The race and the idea of avoiding senseless death and injury in the future are part of #WhatMakesYouSoar for me yesterday

So, what else did I learn yesterday?

First, I learned that I could run about the same time as I ran last year.  I ran a 19:16 this year.  Last year I ran a 19:11.  This year, I could have run exactly the same time and I would still have gotten the 5th place overall that I did (instead of 3rd place).  The field was faster this year.  That is a great thing for the race--to attract not only more runners but better runners.   My first mile was fast (and the first mile included both a serious downhill and a serious uphill).  I lost a good bit of speed on the second mile and then regained a little on mile 3.  At the start, I was off to the side in row 3.  (The rows were not all that wide.)  I got out in the lead group that consisted of about twelve to 15 individuals.  That shook out to where I was in eighth about a half mile in.  On the climb up the hill as mile 1 ended, I ran past one guy up the hill and another guy as we topped out on the hill.  That left me in sixth heading into the second mile.  I had my eye on the two guys closest in front of me.  By the end of mile 2, I was able to catch the guy who was one in front of me.  I believe, when all was said and done, that it was more his getting tired than my acceleration, but I did set my sight on him and get him.  I had the guy who was fourth clearly in sight the whole time.  But I ended up finishing about 9 seconds behind him.  (I've gotten good at estimating as I had thought it was about 10 seconds before I saw the official results.)  The other three ahead of us were about a minute ahead of me and the winner broke 18 with no one near him.  When all was said and done, I was able to run with the idea "don't let anyone pass by me again," and there were 22 seconds between me and the nearest runner behind me.  So, it was all a good lesson.

The other part of yesterday's lesson comes from my bib number "57".  It didn't occur to me immediately when I saw my bib number, but I had used "57" indirectly with a friend recently (although it was neither a bib number nor a race time at that time).  The reference 2 Cor 5:7--a verse commonly interpreted as "walk by faith and not by sight."  How did the relate to yesterday?  Well, I tried to look at my watch as little as possible throughout the race and just run hard.  No "sight" of the pace as I went along.  Just the faith that running my hardest would be the right thing to do.  Might I have found the encouragement to push a little harder if I stared at my watch?  Perhaps.  (Especially since I ran 6:01, 6:33, 6:29 for the three full miles, maybe I could have found a way to pull just a little harder.)  But since I could see a guy ahead of me the whole time, I'm not going to put too much emphasis on seeing in this case.  It is what it is.  The race was fun.  I was first in age group and brought home a lovely medal.  I love the cause.  

Before I talk about other spiritual/numerical insights from yesterday, I do want to say that when I was running "against" a walking bunch yesterday (on the course at the same time) and the bunch was students from Harford Community College, one of them shouted out "great job, sir".  I suppose being the first one over 40 to pass them, I should simply take that as a sign of respect, but it always sounds weird to be called, "sir."

Two other numerical insights.  First, with a time of 19:16, I went looking for some inspiration there as well.  And I found it in Luke 19: 1-6.  It is the beginning of the story of Zacchaeus the tax collector.  The story is that Zacchaeus was a wealthy tax collector and short.  He wanted to see Jesus so much that he climbed a tree.  Jesus invited him down from the tree.  Zacchaeus climbed down to receive Jesus and take Jesus to his house.  It is the story of someone who wants something so much that he will make every effort to get it.  And it is about the faith that I seek to show.  As I continue to lead my life (running or otherwise), I hope to keep my faith as a guide at the center of it.  

The final insight comes from my 2000 mile goal.  With 7.1 miles yesterday (I did 2 miles of warm up and 2 miles of cool down--to the surprise of a race marshal who asked if I was going for a second run in my cool down.  I didn't tell her it was actually the "third.")

I sit at 1930.5 miles today (a rest day--giving me more time to write).  I will pass 2000 miles two weeks from today during the marathon.  My goal is to add 0.5 miles total to the remaining workouts over the next two weeks. (I run on 9 of the 13 days between now and marathon day, so this is adding only a small amount to each or even just a half mile to one.)  If I add the 0.5 miles, I will then hit 2000 miles at exactly the 20 mile point.  

That would be cool.  Why?  The 20 mile point has been my "issue" in each of the marathons I've run.  I have been able to hold pace for that long but struggled through the last 6.2 miles.  What is the name of the town I am heading for in my virtual pilgrimage?  Truth or Consequences.  What will be my truth?  What will be the consequences of making or not making it to my goal?  I will find out in the 10K that remains after I hit my 2000 mile goal.  What is the name of the church that I am running to in my virtual pilgrimage?  Our Lady of Perpetual Help.  That is such a great image for what I will be asking for in prayers when I am at the 20 mile mark--help through the rest of the race.  

Life continues to scream out for me to connect the dots in some pretty incredible ways.  And doing this continues to nourish my soul.  It gives me strength.  It gives me meaning.

I hope that readers and listeners find meaning as well.  

Ten Meaningful Miles

This is today's answer to #WhatMakesYouSoar.

It is another Thursday night and I am sitting in the ice rink.  This has become a Thursday evening habit as my middle son skates during the free style session with the Baltimore Figure Skating Club.  It is a great time to chill out.  (No pun intended as I usually sit in the lobby rather than going into the rink.)  I chill after dinner.  I chill after a hard day at work.  And I get to chill after a hard workout.  The other habit during this marathon training season has been hard workouts on Thursday.  I have run a combination of track workouts and progression runs on Thursday.  This week was a progression run.  A ten mile progression run.  One that I had done well on but not executed exactly in my multiple attempts to do so.

The plan for today was to start at an 8:15/mile pace.  Then to speed up at each mile marker so that my pace would get faster by 0:15 per mile until reaching 7:15.  Hold the 7:15 for a second mile.  Then work my way down to a 6:30 before cooling down with an 8:00.  And I planned to meet a training partner who had paced the Marine Corps Marathon this past weekend. She was going to help me keep up the pace, despite what she had more or less just run.

So, I left early enough to put gas in my car and be at the Dunbar track in downtown Baltimore shortly after 5:15.  The officer had already opened the gate, so I knew we would be able to use the track later in our workout  My partner arrived shortly after that and we began our run just after 5:20.  I was in shorts and a t-shirt.  She was in longer running tights and a thin long-sleeved layer.  We each know what to expect of our bodies when it is about 45 degrees.  (At least that is what my Garmin report told me the starting temperature was.)  

We planned to run on a course that we had run nine days earlier.  On that day we had run 7 miles.  a 6.5 mile course on the streets of Baltimore followed by a half mile on the track.  Today we were going to go 14 laps or 3.5 miles on the track.  So, not all 40 laps or 10 miles, but a lot more than the 0.5.  That was fine.  We headed north along Ensor, turned left to go west on Madison, and chatted.  It had been about nine days since the last time we had run together with another partner.  So we had things to catch up on including running plans, work, and her experience at the Philadelphia Back on My Feet Bash and the Marine Corps Marathon.  As we headed past the prison facilities on Madison and then turned south on Fallsway we were at a comfortable pace.  We hit mile 1 just about at St Vincent de Paul church at President and Fayette with an 8:04.  Nice start.  A little fast but not crazy.

So, we had to pull up at Fayette for traffic, the continued down President Street, hung a left on Baltimore St, south on Exeter, and west on Aliceanna.  Always love the smell of the H&S Bakery, especially on cool, pre-dawn mornings.  Second mile--7:38.  A little overzealous so we decided to be careful on the third mile.  

We continued onto Boston Street.  Chugging along the street by the harbor.  Not too many runners or others on the street that morning, but what seemed like lots of cars.  Third mile 7:45.  Right on target.

As we headed into mile 4, we turned up Ellwood.  We reached a point at which we were not talking that much.  It was time for the hard work to begin.  Ellwood crests before the south side of Patterson Park.  I do know that one comment during mile 4 was the observation that mile 5 would involve the run uphill on Baltimore Street.  That was yet to come.  Mile 4 was run in 7:22--8 seconds below the target but not out of control.

We picked it up as we ran downhill a bit to Baltimore Street and turned west to run along the north side of Patterson Park.  The climb really begins at Linwood.  We have run this a lot of times.  Today, we ran it in 7:12 as we reached Patterson Park Avenue.  Doing pretty well.

As we moved into mile 6--the last one that would be completely on the road, began by finishing going up on Baltimore Street, then headed down toward Central Ave.  The mile did not end until we had turned north and headed across Fayette and toward Orleans.  We had to stop at traffic lights a couple times.  The downhill added speed and we ran a 7:04.

We continued north on Central and turned left on Monument to run along the south side of the Dunbar High School athletic facilities outside the iron fence.  We went back up along Ensor to the entrance to the entrance to the track and ran just under 2 laps on the track.  As we had entered the track area, we were running a 7:08/mile pace.  Over the course of the two laps we sped up a little at a time and pulled some time off the pace.  As we reached the near end of the bench (in the direction you run) on the north side of the track, we found we had run a 7:01.  That was the first time we had a "slow" mile but it was slow only by 1 second.  So, no stressing over that one.

We had been running side by side throughout.  During mile 8 an ever so slight gap opened up.  We train with partners to benefit from each other.  But we also train with partners who understand when we need to meet a goal.  My watch signaled the end of mile 8 slightly before I returned to exactly four laps from where I'd begun.  So, I hit the lap button again when I reached the exact lap point, and when I added up the times later had a 6:45. Right on schedule.  Now was the real test.  I had never gotten much lower than this all summer and fall thus far, except on a treadmill.  No treadmill today.  Just the need to keep pushing.

So, with four laps at pace, I picked it up some more.  Each lap went by easily.  I don't know where all the energy came from.  But I watched the average mile time go down.  My watched beeped at a 6:20 but that was a little early.  I was running faster than in mile 8, but even if it had taken me the same nine seconds extra as in the eighth mile, I would have still run a 6:30.  That was a crowning achievement in my marathon preparation.  

Final mile at what seemed like a really slow pace was still below 8:00.  The total time was 1:13:09.  That is exactly the same time in which I ran my first 10 mile race back in June 2011.  What a long way I have come.  

So, I had finally executed a progression run with the goal of finishing at a 6:30 not on a treadmill at the proper time.  That combined with my excellent 22 miler 12 days earlier really gives me a shot of confidence about the Philadelphia Marathon in 24 days that I didn't have before.  

My training partner is quite confident I can run a sub-3:10.  The person who developed my training plan says maybe even 3:07ish.  Either would be amazing.  But I take nothing for granted.

I have to earn a marathon finish.  I have to earn an PR--even just running a 3:14:24.  I have to earn that 7:20 pace (an improvement to 3:12-something.)  I have to earn the 3:10.  And I would have to earn the 3:07.  These will be earned (or not) on race day. But they are also earned every day when I take a series of steps on the road or on the track or on a treadmill.  They are earned by missing some sleep and awakening at crazy hours and sacrificing other things that could be done.  They are earned through focus, strength, ambition, perseverance, and love.  They are earned by being me.

And if I complete it will show, once again, that I can complete something I begin.

I am looking forward to this marathon more than I ever would have imagined.

I am now at 1864.3 miles.  Somewhere on County Road A020 in Corona, NM.    

Athletes and "This Cures Everything"

Today's entry will be a short one. I ran 10 miles on the treadmill to simulate a track workout that included 7 separate 1/2 mile runs at 6:00/mile pace.  That puts me at a total of 1847.3 miles.

The most interesting observation for today is that according to my wife, the two hockey players (age 9) whom she drove home today said, "Hockey is the cure for everything."

A lot of runners say that.

I don't know that I'd ever heard any other type of athlete say that.

The key is that for nine year olds to recognize this and feel this suggests that the feeling goes pretty deep among athletes.  People who love what they play.  People who are good at what they play. People who in participating in an activity get into a "zone" feel that it can solve just about anything.  It allows them to shed the cares of the day. It allows them to change their focus.  It allows them to chill out (no pun intended in the case of hockey).  It allows them to relax.  

All of these things are good for this 44 year old.

All of these things are apparently good for my nine year old son.

#WhatMakesYouSoar--knowing that there is an outlet that feels like it can make everything better.  Does it really?  Of course not.  But it can make a huge difference in how I feel and in many cases half the battle is just feeling better about something before I take on more critical aspects of solving a problem. 

Out of My Element

Today's run was an unusual one.  Even the city's wildlife could tell that.  This morning began with my leaving home just past five taking the oldest car that we still have and filling it with gas on the way downtown.  Once there, I parked it on Howard Street for my oldest son to pick-up and use for a trip he needed to make today.  As I was sending three texts--one to my son to let him know where the car was, one to the person I was going to meet for a run, and one to someone I wanted to wish good luck for the Marine Corps Marathon, I saw a rat run what seemed to be within 3-6 feet of me down Howard Street.  It did pause long enough to look over at me as if to ask "What is a human doing here at this  time of morning?"  There were not man others around.  

On the rest of my run, I saw one more rat as I headed to the Patterson Park area to meet the person I was running with and then had an otherwise uneventful run from Patterson Park to Boston Street to Aliceanna to President to Pratt to Light then looping back to Charles just as we got to Key Highway and making the long trek up Charles to 25th where I cut over to Guilford and then wound my way to 30th and Greenmount before coming home.  

The run was an "easy" 14.  Most times on the weekend I begin and end at the same place unless I am running a race that makes provision to transport runners.  Today was an oddity, and I ran the first three very easily, the five with my friend harder, then four of the final six relatively easy, with the last two being up tempo and pulling the last one in at race pace.  

Why do I title this "out of my element"?  Because of how unusual it was and the look I got from the rat early in the run.

Was there anything else out of my element this weekend?  Only that I continue to be amazed when friends turn up Bible verses that I did not know about that are incredibly meaningful to me.  For example, my one friend pulled out 1 Cor 9:24.  I actually like 1 Cor 9:24-27:

Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win.

Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one.

Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing.

No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.

This rings true with me in a few ways.  First, the "Run so as to win" is like advice that my boss gave me.  Don't play to tie.  Don't play to just play.  Play to win.  Not running aimlessly--although some people think that training for a marathon really doesn't serve much purpose.  The key is that no activity in my life should be aimless.  Or if there are things that are aimless they should be in "measured portions" as stress relief.

In any case, I appreciate my friends who point out such things.  And I love to keep running.  I'm now at 1830 for the year.  Within 170 miles of my goal.  This is today's answer to #WhatMakesYouSoar.  

Those are the two main tie ins.  

Contrasting Runs

Two runs since my last blog entry.  Each one was seven miles.  Yet they were incredibly contrasting runs.  The run on Tuesday was yet another outdoor progression.  I started fast at 8:10 (I was supposed to run 8:30) and brought the pace down so that mile 6 and mile 7 were run at right about 7:15.  That is good as that is supposed to be my marathon race pace on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I was quite comfortable with the pace coming down each mile, and I was definitely happy to comfortably hold the race pace for two miles.  I did find it interesting to note that when I first sped up from 7:30 to 7:15 I felt like I had to scamper just to make sure I increased the pace satisfactorily.  But within the first blog of running at that pace I felt much better.

Then, today, I was supposed to run 10 miles that included a track workout.  Sometimes for long track workouts I run to the track, run on the track, and then run home.  Today, I drove to the track and intended to run on the track with a friend.  Instead, after we circled the athletic field several times we decided that the officer who normally is there to open the track was probably not going to show up.  In fact, we found that the officer never showed up even after we completed our run.  So, it was good that we decided to do something else.  We agreed on a run down to the far side of the Inner Harbor.  A run with which we are both very familiar. 

The run involved splits of 8:58, 8:39, 8:09, 7:58, 7:53, 7:41, and 8:43.  It was all good.  We sped up so that my running mate could get the feel of running closer to what she expects to be her race pace in the Army 10 Miler this weekend.  And I felt good without over-exerting. 

The run was not what I had planned.  It was not as challenging.  It was not as fast.  It was not as flat. 

But it was with a friend.  And it was something that just felt good.  And since it occurred during a rest week, it was not something that I worry too much about not going exactly as planned. 

The fact that I took it all in stride shows how easy it has become to just deal. I didn’t feel the need to push much harder on what is supposed to be a relatively restful week. I know I can probably fit in a track workout tomorrow without disrupting the flow of my overall training.  And I know that no matter what else happens all I can do is work with the time and resources I have to prepare for the best run on one day.  And I just have to accept that.  And make the most of the opportunities that present themselves. 

By the way, that puts me up to 1712.9 miles total on the ear on my way to my goal of 2000 miles.  I have no doubt I will make it.  Now it is just a matter of getting there.  And I’m continuing along NM 104.  It is interesting to think of myself as being in the state in which my virtual pilgrimage will end.  What will I find when I reach the town called Truth or Consequences?  What will be the truth that is revealed to me in my life through all my activities?  What will be the consequences of all the running I have done this year?  How will I be better off?