I though it only fitting to mark the half-way point of my transformation into marathoner with a half-marathon. And what better place to run one than in Tracktown USA... Eugene, OR. And did I mention the finish was in Hayward Field? Arguably, the Carnegie Hall of American distance running?
I started training for the marathon on Sunday, May 4, one day after the Beaver Freezer Triathlon and nine weeks pre-marathon. Don't try this at home kids, I'm a professional... sort of. Because of the Showdown at Sundown Half-iron Triathlon, I was already in half-marathon shape, and I had made sure that I had a couple of long runs under my belt in the 1:30 range. But, all of my tempo/interval training had been shorter or divided with the bike. It was time to get serious. It was time to get legit.
In the last five weeks, I have put on three 2+ hour runs: a 16-mile (2:00) loop around Corvallis, an 18-mile (2:15) Tour de NoCo, and a 21-mile (2:40) run that included every bike path in Corvallis, including fire roads in the Mac forest. Epic.
And so, last week was a rest week of sorts, capped off by what I hoped to be a demolishing of my half-marathon Personal Best. My planned pace fell somewhere around 6:32 per mile... a 1:26 half-marathoner and a time I hoped would get me into the top three (really wanted to win a bottle of wine).
Bedecked in BrooksID (Nightlife gear so bright a blindman would see me coming) and my new Brooks Launch shoes... the first time I had run in them ever, and that means-like-I've never even worn the style. I towed the line with my race plan: set the pace early, not get drawn into competition with a stay Olympian who may have decided to show-up for a "good workout", and alternate water with gatorade at everyother aid station, taking the Clif Shot at 45 minutes in. It was a beautiful plan.
I positioned myself on the front of the starting line, with 8000-strong at my back. I managed not to embarass myself to much by belting out the National Anthem slightly off-key (the volume was really loud and it drowned me out). And then the gun.
Race plan fell apart right away. There was so much cheering and so much great competition... and after all, it is a race. I positioned myself somewhere around 3rd place, though it was hard to tell because the marathoners were mixed in with us (sad to think that marathoners were running my fastest half-pace). The first mile was 6:00, then 6:10, then 6:10 again. And then 6:10 again. I was actually feeling really good! But the aid stations were positioned two-miles apart, and I have been babied and coddled by the aid station spacing on half-ironman courses (every-mile). I wasn't getting enough water or nutrition. Plus, I've been training with nuun on my long runs, sipping every 10-12 minutes. Doh! Might have to rethink training or racing strategy or both.
Before long, I was starting to get runner belly, and at mile 9, just as I was passing Hayward Field again as the course wound back by the start line, I plowed into a Honey-Pot. Pit-stop number one. Out on the course, I saw that I had been passed by two women, and my friend Nick yelled out that I was in 4th place! Still awesome... if I could just manage to keep it in for four miles.
The next three miles went by in a fog, as I tried to change my running stride to avoid jostling my innards. But, as we were crossing the walking bridge over the Willamette, I suddenly needed to employ the services of a bush or tree. I had to suffer another 300yds before exiting the bridge and rounding a bend on the bike path that was out of view of spectators. Tall grass and bushes hide many sins. I plowed back onto the course, two more women had passed, and I vowed that no more would do so. I butt-chugged my way to the finish line, still smiling (there is video of the finish line to prove it... the movie is actually pretty sweet. They caught my entire finishing stretch. Fast forward four minutes). And low-and-behold a 1:24:04. Vital statistics: 6:25/mile, new PR by 3:48 (only counting road races, not triathlons...whole other beasts), 6th woman overall, 2nd in my age group. Wahoo!
It was almost worth the hour and a half in the med tent following the race, the two IV bags, the cookie-tossing in the Honey Pot, the violent chills, and the feeling all day that my stomach was never again going to digest food. Triumph!
So, half-marathon at half-way. Glad I did it. Must reevaluate nutrition plan and pace. Because, based on this, I think I can go sub-3:00 in San Diego. Don't you think so? Am I right, or am I right?
Wow, great race! High-5!
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, you are right.