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Ted Corbitt 15K 2010 Race Report

December 19, 2010

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Against my better judgement, I went down to Central Park this morning and ran the Ted Corbitt 15k. It wasn’t a total disaster, but the result wasn’t anywhere near where I wanted it to be. Or, where it even should be. Nonetheless, being 15K is such an odd race distance, I haven’t run one since 2007, so I managed a PR by 4 seconds. I’ll take it.

There was one point over the past couple of days where I decided I was going to skip this race. Nonetheless, Friday I was running some quasi tempo miles (10 second faster than marathon pace) in Central Park and decided to get my race packet at NYRR on 89th just incase. It was convenient and I had a feeling I might change my mind about skipping this later.

Saturday morning I didn’t have the mojo to do a long run. I wound up taking the day off. With that, I figured maybe I’d go into the city the next day after all… just to see. By the end of the day, I was preparing for the race the next morning.

Lack of pressure, and lack of drive for this race, allowed me to get a great night’s sleep. Ironic in some ways that my best performances are inversely related to how much sleep I get the night before.

The main reason I did not want to do this race was the fact I had no desire to deal with the hassle of traveling down to the city and lining up in the cold. As I sat in the cold waiting for the train, I asked myself why am I in the cold freezing my ass off when I’d rather be in bed? How did I get here? I thought I was going to skip this race!

There was really no reason to be doing this race either. In prior years I might chalk it up to getting a race credit for guaranteed entry to the marathon, but this year I didn’t pursue the 9+1 path, and this was only my sixth NYRR race of the year. Of course, there’s always a PR to be had… and a goal. I had one. I wanted to do a sub 60 minute 15k when I signed up for this. It was a bit of a long shot, but not impossible. However, for the past week or so, I haven’t felt that I was in condition to do that well.

After getting off the train at 125th street, I slowly jogged down to 102nd street transverse and immediately headed to the port-a-johns after arriving. Afterwards, I checked in my baggage and ran to the start as the star-spangled banner was being sung. I got to the back of the blue corral and it was packed.

First mile was surprisingly congested. Everyone was just going out super slow. I decided, since I’m here, I might as well try for that sub-60 15k, or at least see how close I can come. But, maintaining a target pace of 6:27 was nearly impossible. There wasn’t even room to bob and weave around others. I hit the first mile in 6:45 by my watch.

The second mile things started opening up. Towards the latter half of this mile, things were mostly downhill. I hit the 2nd mile marker in 6:11. A bit too fast.

Mile 3 consisted of the turn around back towards the start and included cat hill. Mile 3 6:33, and a bit off pace again, but I blamed it on cat hill.

During the 4th mile, I still couldn’t get my groove. Things felt too hard, or at least harder than they should have felt and I assumed I was going too fast. Then when I hit the 4th mile marker and saw 6:30 I began to realize sub-60 was not in the cards today.

Along the 5th mile, I was completely demoralized. This mile passes by the start and having to go out for a second longer loop, when things felt as bad as they did made me feel completely pessimistic. Along with that, there are three somewhat tough hills to get over before things get easier. I hit the 5th mile marker in 6:39. Way, way off pace.

At this point I was seriously considering dropping out. I was way off pace, I was hurting bad, and I really didn’t have it in me today. Besides that, my nose wouldn’t stop running (no pun intended) and there was just no place for all the stuff to go. After a while, I stopped bothering to wipe it off. Can’t wait to see the brightroom pics when they come out.

But, overall, I felt like a mess. From the start, I just didn’t really want to be here. Every hill, every turn, every mile, I’ve done countless times day after day, and this just felt like a hard training run. I didn’t have that race excitement. I bargained with myself. Don’t drop out, don’t DNF, perhaps sandbag it and jog it in. I dropped the pace a bit in hopes to recover, and being the 6th mile has some downhills things got somewhat easier and I hit the mile marker 6 in 6:32.

Mile 7 goes passed the turn around on the first loop, and at this point I knew I had to cover the complete race distance so dropping out was no longer a possibility. I hit mile 7 in 6:32. I began thinking I’m not even maintaining a pace for a PR, and my PR at this distance is kind of weak.

Mile 8, back up cat hill, and boy were my quads clobbered. But only one more mile to go. No, it’s 1.3 miles to go. That’s like 1.5 miles. Oh my god, when is this ever going to be over? Mile 8 in 6:45. Stick a fork in me.

Towards mile 9, back down the straight flat road a second time and my legs were feeling like jelly. I just held on, and towards the end of mile 9 things all of a sudden got a lot easier. I thought to myself, this is not so bad. Mile 9 in 6:39.

The last .3 miles I think were my fastest. Knowing it was over, I found I was able to push a bit harder than I realized. I actually passed a lot of people at this point. .3 in 1:48. (6:00 min mile)

I cross the finish line and see I PR’ed by a few seconds after all. Well, it wasn’t a total waste. Certainly, not what I hoped for. But, a PR is a PR. And, at the very least, I can put down a strong tempo in my log. 15K in 1:01:04 6:33 pace overall.

One thing I learned is that if I don’t have that hunger to race hard, I’m not going to do nearly as good as I can. In the future, if I’m lacking motivation for a race, I wont push myself to do it again. One thing though is, once this was over, I sort of wished I could do it over again.

I’ll sit with this for a while, and hopefully, it will add to my motivation for the Manhattan Half in January.

Philadelphia Marathon 2010 Race Report

December 2, 2010

herb race report, racing, running marathon, philadelphia, Philadelphia marathon, race report, running 5 Comments

So my marathon season has come to pass and as much as I was looking forward to getting this race behind me, I’m somewhat sad it’s over. It was also a bit of a drag that Philadelphia was so late in the season. There are a few people I know who ran multiple marathons this fall consisting of a mix of PRs and fun runs, all of which happened before I even did my first. It was hard for me to feel the excitement and exhilaration when I had my race still pending and the jitters along with it. And it seems after New York runs their race, everyone you know forgets at that moment that you still have a race coming up. I’ve lost track of how many people asked me multiple times if I was doing New York. One even asked me, “Hey um, you’re doing Boston instead this weekend, right?”

Right after New York happened, a few asked me when Philly was. … and then … nothing…. Philly, in some ways, was definitely off the radar. And you know, I think that’s the way I like it. It allowed me to focus on it without the added of pressure of other eyes. Yet, it’s a fairly large event. Certainly enough to justify a road trip and hotel room for the night. The organization, however, is somewhat clunky in spots. But, the course is fair, and easy enough, albeit somewhat boring towards the end. But, all in all, I would definitely do this race again and I left Philadelphia a much happier person than when I arrived.

For the few days prior I really had a lot of trouble figuring out what pace I should run this. My recent half marathon predicted 3:02 (6:56), and my 18mile race predicted 3:00 (6:52). But, my marathon PR was only 3:10:45 from last April, and I thought these paces would be a little aggressive. I also don’t have a lot of faith in these race predictors when it comes to the marathon. Anything between a 5k and half marathon they seem to do a good job, but the marathon predictions have always seemed aggressive.

In October, I tried running these paces for 20 miles and, on my best day, was only able to hold 6:58, and each time I was completely spent when finishing. This gave me a lot more confidence in what pace I felt I could do, but I still thought it would be nuts to target anything faster since I would have to be going 6.2 miles more. I asked some people advice and got a lot of conflicting feedback. The night before I decided, shit, I’ll just do it like I did my long run and find what feels good and hope for anything under 3:05 (7:04). Shaving another 5 minutes would be great.

But, going back to the day before the race, I grabbed my stuff which consisted of what I planned to run in, some gels, a change of clothes, toiletries, and traveled extremely lightly by car to the Holiday Inn in Philadelphia. When I arrived, I checked into a surprisingly clean room. Headed out to the convention to get my race packet.

After the convention, walked around, had a nice dinner, more walking around. Observed how friendly the locals were and was somewhat perplexed. Went to a self serve ice cream shop, which looks exactly like the one on St Marks in the city, and while there, was too much of a coward to try the cream cheese flavored ice cream.

After a while, I was approached by another runner making small talk and asked about my plans for the race and what sort of time I was targeting. I told him 3 hours before I even thought about it. It was somewhat of a shock to me because I wasn’t thinking about this race when I said it, but more about what I wanted to do eventually. Also, I didn’t yet have a hard number in mind this race. The decision for 3:05 I previously mentioned happened later on that night in my hotel room. I almost felt like I was lying when I said it. Nonetheless, he was impressed. He was hoping to break 3:50 and I told him with undeserved confidence that he’ll do it. We wished each other luck and I headed to my room and was in bed by 9:00pm.

Fell asleep probably before 10 and woke up a little after 2am. I was happy for four hours sleep and knew it was enough. I continued to lay in bed until it was time to get up. Unfortunately, Philadelphia is certainly not a city that doesn’t sleep, because EVERYTHING is closed at 5:30am. Finding the coffee maker full with water, and a floating hair on top, along with a slimy coating of algae on the sides, was enough to make me wait until 6:30 for coffee. Plenty of runners were in the hotel breakfast room at that time and I was in absolute fascination how some could pile the bacon on before running a marathon. My intention isn’t to pass judgement on their dietary choices, but man, if I ate bacon (and I don’t), I wouldn’t be able to run half a mile without burping it up for the rest of the day. I went the boring route of a bagel with a couple of hard boiled egg whites and 2 cups of coffee.

The walk over from the hotel to the start was about a mile and was exhilarating. It was dark out and the weather a bit cool. It just felt like a good day to run and I was feeling excitement. I knew this was going to be a good day. The closer the crowd got, the bigger it grew, as more runners joined by walking all in the same direction. I got lucky and spotted some port-a-potties on the way, so with the morning coffee, combined with the walking made this a real convenient opportunity. For once, everything was really going right.

Upon arriving at the start there was some chaos as to where to go. No signs whatsoever and I found myself just following the crowd as if I was part of a herd of cattle with no idea where I was going. Eventually I spotted UPS trucks and had to hop gates to get there. I don’t know which way I was supposed to go, but this worked. Packed up my brand new sweats which I planned to throw away at the start and checked them in. Took a couple of glucose shots. Stuffed my shorts with gels. Then headed to the start.

Getting to my corral was a bit tricky. As I was trying to get through the crowd, and unsure if I was going in the right direction they started playing the national anthem. I realized from the pace group with the balloons I was near the start of the 4:00 marathoners. I quickly pushed my way through the crowd, now even more unsure if I was going in the right direction. You could not go forward. It was either right or left. Luckily I chose left. and there was space to walk up to the front of the start as soon as I broke out of the crowd.

At the start I saw a 3:10 pace group and considered going out with them. Then wondered about a 3:00 pace group and asked the pace leader. They were a few yards ahead so I decided kept my eye on them. I figured I would go out at a comfortable pace and make sure not to pass them.

Well, the horn went off and that’s what I did. The beginning felt VERY slow. It was slower than what I though was target pace, but I would not pass them.

The first few miles I stuck right with them. We hit the first mile marker in 7:02, The second one I missed, so I hit the lap button late and recorded 7:00. I also missed the 3rd, but saw the 4th and hit the lap button twice. Along the majority of the course, the mile markers were actually hard to see and I missed quite a few.

I was prepared for something like this, and on my garmin display was the total time, the average lap time, and the lap number. The lap time and lap number would be accurate accounts of my lap pace and current mile. Even if I missed a marker, hitting it enough times so that the lap number was equal to the mile marker would give me and accurate overall pace, which was what I was more focused on, rather than time. For this race I was not relying on gps, but instead the mile markers. Missing a mile marker, like I did for mile 3, would be corrected if at the next mile marker I hit it once for the missed mile, and again for the current mile.

Miles 2 to 4 were along a flat highway by the water. No spectators and a large open street. I felt the group pick up pace significantly here, but it felt ok and I decided to stick with it. We hit mile 4 at 27:28 which averaged about 6:51, right on pace for a 3 hour marathon. I told the pace leader at this point I was impressed on how well of a job he was doing and let him know we were right on pace. Before the mile 5 marker, I took my first gel. My plan was to take one every 5 miles to 20 and had a 5th just anything went wrong.

Miles 5 and 6 were led back into the city along Chestnut street. Chestnut street was by far the most exciting part of the race. Things still felt really fresh and the largest crowds were lined up along the streets on this part of the course. Some water stops occurred and they were pretty sloppy throughout the whole race. I wasn’t able to grab water from a table at any of them, but instead, was only given an opportunity to take water directly from volunteers, which didn’t always work out so well. Being in a pace group was also tough since you arrive with a pack and everyone seems to get in each other’s way. This was also a problem just running along on the course. Frequently, I bumped into the side of someone, or was bumped in return, but only at the water stops were there disasters.

Back along Chestnut street I missed the 6 mile marker, but my 10k split was 42:31, still on pace for 6:51. During this stretch I had the pace group behind me. I would glance back every now and then to make sure they weren’t that far back until I decided to intentionally slow my pace down and let them catch up.

By mile 7, we were out of the spectator crowds on Chestnut street and shortly after that, turned to the right to climb the only hilly part of the race towards mile 8.

The climb up to mile 8 wasn’t anything that significant. It went past 8 and then back down where mile 9 was at the bottom. From there, back up towards mile 10. This was about the longest hardest climb. I was running more on my own but keeping the pace group nearby. At the top we ran for about .25 of a mile to the mile 10 marker in front of the zoo where they were handing out gels. I took a vanilla gu rather than grabbing one from my shorts. At this point things were feeling somewhat hard from the climb I just did. I was also psychologically getting tired because mile 10 is usually my turn around point on my long runs. Immediately afterwards, we had a steep downhill that allowed me to recover.

Mile 10 1:08:26 : 6:50 pace overall.

After the downhill we made a left and then soon after did a 180 degree turn. These sharp 180 degree turns absolutely suck, and to have three of them during a marathon is the pits. After the turn around, we headed to mile 11, and then to 12 along the water. It was here that we were running directly into the sun, which made everything a bit uncomfortable. Things weren’t as bad as they were at mile 10, but they weren’t as good as I think they should be. I had some serious doubts along these miles. I happened to have had some electrolyte tablets, which I received as free samples a couple of days prior. I decided to take them on a whim.

On the way to mile 13 things started to even out and perhaps the fact we were no longer running into the sun, I was feeling better. Before mile 14 the half marathoners split off to the right while the marathoners continued to the left. Not long after, we crossed the mat for the half marathon split.

Mile 13.1 1:29:12 : 6:48 pace overall.

When I saw the time for the half marathon split I was in somewhat shock. It had just occurred to me I’m on my way to running a sub 3 hour marathon. I’m still with the pace group and I forgot to let them go on ahead. There was some fear there and I wondered if I just blew it by going too fast. This was about my half marathon PR back in May and I just ran it as a split in a marathon.

On the way to mile 14, something strange happened. My right calf started spasming. Every so often it would seize up a little. It wasn’t anything unmanageable, but considering I was only half way done it was a concern. I don’t understand this, because I’ve done quite a few runs for 20 miles at a similar pace without any water and I never got cramps.

This began to add some mental pressure, but all I could do is keep going while I still could. Not long after I was thinking this, I saw something quite unfortunate. Some girl ahead of me ran off the course and into the woods to the right. She climbed up the hill behind what little foliage there was and squat down and pee. My heart went out to her, but I had quite a bit of admiration at the same time in a strange way, which I think other runners can identify with. Well, seeing this sort of made me realize things aren’t that bad yet with my leg spasming. If it comes to it, I’ll just do what I have to.

On the way to mile 15, the mile marker was actually inside out and looked like a 21, since it was backwards. This did add confusion since from mile 13 on, it’s an out and back, so we saw the 24 mile marker and the 23 mile marker already at this point and mile 21 could have made sense. Eventually I realized it was 15 and click the lap button and took out my third gel for the next water stop.

Mile 15 1:41:59 – 6:46 pace overall.

I realized at this point the splits from mile 13 on were going faster than 6:51. Looking back at my individual splits they were closer to 6:40s. I stuck with the pace group nonetheless. Things were still feeling mixed physically and towards mile 16 I saw a huge bridge that went pretty high up. I knew at some point we would be crossing a bridge and if the bridge I was looking at turned out to be the one, I would be done for. It reminded me of the 59th street bridge in the NY marathon, which also has the mile 16 split on it. I thought back to my race in 2007 where I blew up there after going out too fast and wondered if this was going to be history repeating itself.

We passed the bridge and I was grateful, yet leery wondering if the bridge we were supposed to cross would be anything similar. Luckily by mile 17 I learned it was not. The bridge had more of a quick steep climb, but nothing long and drastic. I actually got up it no problem. Ran over the bridge, made a left, went downhill, and then after about 1/4 of a mile out, did another 180 degree turn around. During this turn around my right hamstring seized up. I almost buckled, but quickly shook it off. I let the pace group go on a head at this point because we were climbing back uphill to go over the bridge again. After the bridge, we made a left and passed mile 18. By the 30K split I caught up with the pace group again and went over the mat.

30K (Mile 18.6) 2:06:57 : 6:48 pace over all

By mile 19 I was hurting. I saw a water table with a guy holding a sign that said beer only. I skipped it not 100% sure if it was really just beer. I remember going up a climb and we were headed into a town with a name that started with an M. The 3 hour pace group was ahead of me and nowhere to be seen. On the right side I saw an occasional person from the front of the pack heading back. Eventually we hit the town and did the third 180 degree turn around and boy did it hurt. Shortly after I hit mile 20 and clicked the lap button and got my gel.

Mile 20 2:16:48 : 6:50 pace over all.

From mile 20 on, everything hurt in my legs. This whole section is a blur and I can’t remember much, but this was pure torture. I remember bits and pieces like how when I went to check the time on the garmin my right hamstring would seize. This happened a number of times. Either one of my calves would begin seizing, or my right hamstring would seize. There was one or two times I really thought I was going to have to stop. I didn’t feel like I was running because I couldn’t maintain the stride I wanted. If I tried my legs would cramp up. I somehow managed to take all my splits for the next 5 miles. I was gradually slowing down on each mile, yet I can’t help but feel happy about the fact that each split here was still faster than my overall pace for my marathon just a year ago.

Mile 21 2:23:45 7:05 mile split : 6:50 pace over all
Mile 22 2:31:04 7:09 mile split : 6:52 pace over all
Mile 23 2:38:20 7:16 mile split : 6:53 pace over all

Cramping up bad on the way back from 20

At this point, I was no longer on pace for a sub 3 hour marathon and I knew it. In fact, at mile 20 I sort of knew sub 3 was not going to happen that day. My only concern was to keep going so that I can finish as fast as possible and cement the effort I put in so far with the closet time to 3 hours as I possibly can. All along the last 3 miles of the race, the spectator crowd began to thicken.

Everyone’s race bib has their name printed on it. Whenever I fill out a form, I always put down my proper name, Herbert. Which is what I filled out on the entry form. No one calls me that though. Herb is what most people call me. However, for these last three miles, all I could hear was “go Herbert!”. “C’mon Herbert!”. And I found this so utterly annoying, since hearing “Herbert” from a stranger makes them seem even more like a stranger, and these strangers were distracting me from focusing on mentally pushing the pain away. If I had the strength to tell them to “shut the fuck up”, I would have. Honestly, I’m not that much of an asshole, and I realize they’re trying to help, but towards the end of a race like this, I never find it helpful. At Mile 15 it would have been more appreciated.

Mile 24 2:45:43 7:22 mile split
Mile 25 2:53:07 7:24 mile split

Stop calling me "Herbert"

After mile 25 came a hill. I don’t remember this hill on the way out. We did pass it after the half marathon mark though. I got over it, and kept looking at my garmin counting down the 1/10ths of the miles. I started coming downhill. I saw some runners to the right and headed towards them and crossed a mat. I got yelled at by a course marshal to get over to the left where the marathon finish was. The runners I saw were half-marathoners I think. The marathon finish was on the left up ahead while the half marathon finish was on the right side. I was still coming down the hill when I saw the clock 3:02:xx. Ok, good enough. I cross the finish line. I’m greeted by my family shortly afterwards and I’m happy to see them.

In the days immediately following, I never had such a boost of confidence that I will one day break 3 hours. It might even happened this April in Boston, although I don’t want to put so much expectations on my races anymore. Does it bother me that I came so close to sub 3 and missed it? In all honestly, I didn’t expect to break 3 hours so to come this close is a surprise. Perhaps I should have had a little more faith in myself. Would it have made a difference in the result? Maybe, but probably not. I know had I not gotten cramps though, sub 3 would have happened.

I feel like a guy who won 5 million dollars, but could have won 6 million dollars instead had things gone differently. I would be very happy with 5 million. Almost as happy as getting a 3:02:25 in a marathon.

Oh, and later in the afternoon, when I was leaving the hotel, I ran into the same guy from the ice cream shop across the street. It turned out he did 3:45 beating his 3:50 goal and I was very happy for him. When I told him I did 3:02, he was impressed and equally happy for me. At that moment, I realized the irony that claiming 3 hours last night wasn’t so off base.

The end!

Hard work pays off

November 22, 2010

herb race report, racing, running 4 Comments

I was flirting with the idea of trying for a sub 3. I knew it was a long shot, but decided on a whim to go with the 3 hour pace group when I saw them at the start. Good thing too, because they held me back from going out too fast. I began feeling spasms in my legs starting at mile 13 despite taking an s-cap.

I was on target until mile 23, but cramping up bad. I never stopped, just hobbled. Had I stopped, I wouldn’t have been able to start again. In the end, 3:02:25. More than 8 minutes from my PR.

On a different day, this would have been my sub 3. But, I’m extremely happy. I can honestly say a sub 3 is no longer a pipe dream. A year ago, I wasn’t so sure.

NYRR 18 mile tune-up race report

September 23, 2010

herb race report, racing, running Leave a comment

The 18 mile tune up was a last minute decision for me. I mentioned this in my previous post. It turned out my friend and neighbor Tony was doing it, and the convenience of driving into the city with him and Wayne tipped the scales. Logically, it made more sense too. It’s a better race for training at this point.

Both Wayne and Tony planned to get there by 5:45 and do one extra lap of the park before the start of the race. That would make a total of 24 miles for them. Their planned early arrival would allow me enough time to register at nyrr on 89 street and make it to the start at 102nd st by 7am.

Sleeping the night before was surprisingly no problem. I passed out somewhere around 10 or 11 pm, and I slept almost straight through the night. I woke just once at 2:45 am and then again at 4:30 am. The alarm was set for 4:45, so I just got out of bed at that point.

After a quick breakfast, I threw on my running clothes. I almost forgot I was getting ready to race. It felt more like I had a pre-dawn training run planned. Since I didnt have a bib or dtag, it was like there was nothing to set off those pre-race jitters. It also occurred to me I had no idea or hint of a target time for this race. I imagined sub 7 minute miles would be a good target. 7:03 was the pace I did 3 years ago. Out of curiosity I used a race predictor and plugged in my Bronx half marathon time of 1:27:10 to see what the best I can expect to do would be. Heh, a 6:48 pace? No way. Best I felt I could hope for was 6:55 to 7:00.

At that point, I shut down the laptop, grabbed 3 gels, a cylinder of glucose tablets, a glucose shot, and ran out the door.

We drove in to the city, arrived, and parked in a secret location near 102nd street. Tony and Wayne decided to do their extra loop clockwise, which was opposite of the race direction, but in the direction of nyrr. We made our way over together and I said good bye to them as I exited the park through the engineering gate.

Made my way to NYRR and there were lots of people picking up bibs. I went upstairs to register, filled out the form, and the woman who took my form asked me “what pace?” Thinking back to what I determined right before I left home, I humbly announced, “uuhh not sure, I think ill be happy with anything sub 7″. She looked at me and then handed me a red bib.

I said “oh, hmmm” and was a little confused. I thought to myself “why red?”. Did they run out of blue bibs? Sub 7 for 18miles should surely be in first corral. If you’re not familiar with NYRR races, the corrals are color coded and your bib color dictates your corral. Blue is first while red is second.

I asked, “can I get into the first corral with this?” realizing the answer before I finished. Watching her shake her head no, her response was obvious.

“Um, I’ve always gotten blue bibs.”

“Not this race… 6:50″

Then I realized the question “what pace” meant “what’s your fastest pace for any race more than 3 miles”. Again, for those not familiar with nyrr, the answer to that question is what seeds your corral. So if you did a 6:50 pace or better for a 4mile race you would qualify for the first corral for this particular race.

Thinking quickly, I said, “my bibs have 6:17 on them.” That happens to be my 4mile pr back in 2007. I haven’t raced anything under 13 miles in nyrr for the past 3 years.

She sighs and then pulls out a blue bib. She proceeds to scold me about something as I watch her cross out the bib# on the wrong application and write my bib# on it. As I was about to point it out she says, “oh great now look at what I’ve done”

We then work together under pressure to figure out what number gets written on each application. She makes the corrections while continuing to scold me on something. Since I’m focused on what she’s doing I only catch the usual key phrases like, “Next time”, and “we don’t usually”, and “on the day of”, etc etc. The whole time I just nod my head smiling and thank her while I stay focused on what she’s doing. I make sure the right bib# is written on my application.

Now I discover tee-shirt pick up is at the start of the race. This complicates things somewhat since I have to first get to wherever shirts are given out, then to baggage, then wait for a port-a-john. The longer I delay getting to a port-a-john, the longer the lines will get.

Port-a-johns at nyrr races are THEE number one stress factor for me before a race. Read any other race report of mine and you will see that.

I run rather fast back to the start thinking of what Jack Daniels recommends as a good warm up for a race. Hard running for 1 to 2 minutes 20 minutes before racing. It’s always worked for me in the past and at this point 20 minutes is about all I got to get everything I need to done.

I get the shirt since I’ll want to change into it after the race when I’m all sweaty. I grab 3 gels from my bag stuff them in my shorts. I swallow about 6 glucose tablets and put the glucose shot in my shorts. I tie my bag to the fence. I run to the port-a-johns and find the shortest line. Things are moving quick enough. This is where I always remind myself its chip time. Its ok to be late to the start, but I’d rather not be.

I get done and head to the start. I have 5 minutes and they’re announcing the corrals are closing. I stay at the back of the first corral. I look at all the red bibs right behind me on the other side of the rope and think to myself how much my blue bib makes a difference. I down the liquid glucose shot and I’m already feeling the effects of the glucose tablets.

The announcements are short, and we’re off.

We head downhill to the start of Harlem hills. I pass by Chris, our female pacer for the 7:30 group at NYRR’s long training run #2. I say hello and have a brief chat about target pace. I move on and wish her luck.

Starting up hill it’s hard to assess how things feel. They’re not too bad, but it’s hard to determine if the effort is right this early on. The hill is a struggle but I am locked in and I continue. I’m passing quite a bit of people. Coming down from Harlem hills, I hit the first mile marker in 6:58. Sub 7 and not much more. If I keep this pace things should be fine since this is the hardest part of the course. I’ll have to do this hill two more times though, since the race is three laps of the park.

Speaking of which, I noticed the mile markers for 1, 7 and 13 were quite a bit a part. The full loop of central park is 6.02 miles. The lane which we are running in is quite wider than usual. I realize the gap is mile markers is due to the fact the lane is twice the width and they measured it assuming all tangents will be cut. I keep this in mind throughout the race. I concentrate on cutting all tangents the whole way.

I do the first 6 miles in 40:20 with the following splits.
1) 6:58
2) 6:47
3) 6:31
4) 6:40
5) 6:42
6) 6:39

I remember thinking things were going too fast. Most of what was going on in my head during this lap was trying to control the pace and adjust it to keep things appropriate for 18 miles. I took a gel between mile 4 and 5. Took water a few times but not every stop. Nothing else significant happened and most things are a blur.

Meanwhile, the second lap was mostly filled with fear and doubts as to whether I was going to be able to hold on for the full race. Before getting past the first half of the second lap, I started lapping the back of the pack. Is was a welcomed since things were feeling somewhat lonely. The splits on the second lap were the following.

7) 6:52 – faster than the 6:58 the first time
8) 6:52
9) 6:41
10) 6:39
11) 6:47
12) 6:38

Heading out for my third lap, mentally, things felt easier. One more lap around. If the second lap can be described as pessimism, this one was mostly optimism. I climbed Harlem Hills and was glad I wouldn’t have to do it again. I passed by the mile 13 marker. I saw the clock was 1:28 and change. I thought to myself, why was the Brooklyn half such a shit show compared to this? 1:29:05 was a struggle then. 1:28 was no problem and I have enough for 5 more. This is a tougher course.

I wasn’t able to get water at any part of the third lap. There were way too many others at this point, all people on their second lap. I zone out until I get to the southern most end of the park. Climbing back up on the first hill heading north, I start focusing on how much more to go. I usually do this towards the end of races and things start feeling tough along with it. I don’t know if one causes the other, and if so, which one. Does the feeling of things getting tough cause me to count the last 2 or 3 miles by every tenth of a mile, or is the fact I’m towards the end of the race and counting the final bits is what’s causing things to get hard.

I make it up cat hill and I feel it. My legs suffer, but I’m almost to the 17th mile marker. From there it’s flat. I’m grateful I don’t have to do cat hill again. I get to mile 17 and I push harder. I pick things up and although its hard, it feels good. I hold it and make my way past the engineering gate and to the minor rolling hills and then towards the transverse. I concentrate on just holding it from there and not pushing more than I am. I don’t want to drop things.

I turn left and start kicking a bit. I hear the announcer mention my name, herb carroll from white plains. I cross the finish line. I check my time and I’m very pleased. But more than that, I’m pleased with how I ran the race. It felt good the whole way through. Mostly, I enjoyed the experience of running it. It wasnt about pushing hard as much as it was about finding comfort and being able to make adjustments to keep things manageable. The last two races, this and the Bronx half have been really good performances for me and the irony is I’ve been caring less about the my times than the experience.

13) 6:55
14) 6:57
15) 6:37
16) 6:41
17) 6:59
18) 6:15 – last lap the fastest

My watch said 2:01:19. The official result is 2:01:15. 6:44 pace average. 6:48 was my half marathon pr at the beginning of the year. I did the Manhattan half in January averaging a 6:51 pace. Same course and only 2 laps instead of 3. This has been a good year for me so far. If it all stopped here I would be fine with that.

It turns out this race gives me a VDOT of 53.4. This is my highest VDOT so far. The fact it’s during a long 18 mile race is somewhat reassuring.

After getting my bags and such I go to the finish and watch people cross for about an hour before Tony and Wayne complete. We run into Frank and others as we head to the car and back home.

On the way back, Tony and Wayne wanted to stop off for junk food, and Tony, knowing White Castle is one exception I’ve made in the past to my no junk food rule, declares we are going to the one in Yonkers on the way home. Ironically, this happens to be right near the mile 23 marker of the Yonkers marathon. I decline getting anything to eat because I no longer eat red-meat, but I’m happy to see some marathoners as they finish their race about 3 miles from the finish. I look at this part of the course, as ugly as it is, and question what the hell is it that I like so much about the Yonkers Marathon? Maybe, I’ll get to figure it out next year.

Bronx Half Race Report

August 16, 2010

herb race report, racing, running Bronx Half Marathon, half-marathon, NYRR, race report 12 Comments

Well, I did it. I broke 89 minutes. In fact, I went completely through 88 minutes, winding up almost on the other side of 87 minutes. 1:27:10.

The morning of I had no idea this would be the day. In fact, the night before I got no sleep at all. Laid awake with my eyes shut the whole night opening them each hour to see what time it was. Same story as every other night before a race, but this time I didn’t get the 2 or 3 hours of sleep I’m sometimes lucky enough to manage.

It wasn’t nerves keeping me awake as much as it was excitement. At 3am I sort of wished I could just be at the start at that moment and get the race over with. At 4:45am I began getting ready to go to Mark with whom I traveled with for the previous two halves in the grand prix series.

When we arrived, parking was absolutely horrendous. The situation in the Bronx is always the worst. Seeing “no parking on Sunday” signs taped to trees all along the empty Goulden ave just added insult to injury. After circling around we found a municipal parking lot at 6:40am about a mile away.

After parking on the top-level, we get to the bottom, punch in the parking spot # and then realize the machine doesn’t take dollar bills. I asked the woman sitting in the attendant booth who was smoking cigarettes and talking the phone if she can make change for the machine. She told me to go to the store across the street. Bah! Right. I noticed the machine took cards so Mark and I ran back up to where the car was parked to get a credit card. No luck! Machine didn’t work. Then some guy who appeared to be maintenance or a janitor asked if we were parked upstairs, and upon confirming, he told us not to worry and that we didn’t need to pay on Sunday. I wondered to myself if the cigarette smoking woman yapping on the phone knew about that.

As we lightly ran to the start, we had 15 minutes. Plenty of time still. I purposely ran and bounced hard a bit to figure out if I was empty or if I should hit the toilets once more before lining up. Sure enough, a bathroom was in order. I began wondering what the port-a-john situation would be like being so close to the starting time. And then I saw a McDonald’s and told Mark my plans and that I’d meet him at the start. It only took about 7 minutes for someone behind the counter to slowly move and unlock the bathroom door for me. But, the wait was worth it. I got a semi clean toilet that flushes along with a sink and running water. The smell was only as bad as the food that they serve. I did my thing and felt much lighter running to the start thinking this was a proper warm up for the race.

When I arrived near the start the port-a-john lines were out of control. They seem to get worse and worse at every race, and I’m under the impression that NYRR is bringing less of these things out nowadays. I remember a time where you had port-a-johns in different sections and if the lines were too long you would go check the lines out at the “other port-a-johns”. Now, when you find where the port-a-johns are, those are them and that’s all there is.

I walked into my corral with still 4 minutes to go. I found Mark and greeted him, in which he replied, “oh good, you made it”. I assessed the weather felt it was a little warm and definitely humid, but nothing like Queens. I was thinking sub-90 minutes was possible, but not necessarily a PR. I ate about 4 glucose tablets and a gel. I had two more tucked in my short which I planned to take around mile 4.5 and 9 to evenly space things out.

The announcer begins and doesn’t bother with the directions on the course. It was somewhat refreshing to hear him admit it was pointless and said to basically just follow the guy in front of you. And honestly, I never thought these directions were of much use at other races either. The horn goes off, we start, and I take things pretty easy. Or at least they feel easy. I immediately find a rhythm that feels right. Not too hard and very comfortable. I pull up alongside Mark but my pace takes me past him.

Most of the race from this point is a blur.

Starting out, the road eventually became nicely paved. We hit a somewhat steep incline on a turn. Nothing too bad, in fact getting over it loosens things up. No sooner do we reach the top, a block later, it descends down the other side and we make a turn.

Mile 1: 6:32

The pace is faster than I thought. I focus on how I feel and just maintain effort that feels right. I decidedly slow it down a bit.

Mile 2: 6:36

Everything is still good. The tree-lined street is actually kind of nice and the majority of it has a slight decline keeping things fast. Occasionally there are parts that climb and there may have been a hill here or there. I just go with it because it continues to feel right.

We come to Mosholu Parkway which has a long decline. We pass by, I see the mile 12 marker on the other side of the parkway and being before the 3rd mile marker it feels a long way off.

Mile 3 comes at the end of the decline where we turn around and run up the other side. I see my average pace is in the low 6:30s. I’m somewhat intimidated by it since its much faster than my 6:48 PR pace. Also, I’m reminded of blowing up at the Brooklyn half as a result of pushing a similar pace too early. I decide though things still feel right.

Mile 3: 6:30

I focus on maintaining even effort and slow it down just a bit to climb the hill we just ran down. From there, we basically run the course back to the start. All the declines are now inclines, but they feel good the whole way. It’s just enough of an incline that I can comfortably lean into it.

before the grand concourse

Mile 4: 6:42
Mile 5: 6:43
Mile 6: 6:39

After mile 6 I realize I’m half way done. I notice the time is under 40 minutes and I think to myself pulling off a sub-40 10K is definitely doable. I make a mental note to target one at some point in the near future.

At this point we go on to the Grand Concourse for an out and back. It’s a bit rolling in the beginning, yet it reminds me of Ocean Parkway a bit. I’m very pleased with how far I’ve come in the race at this point and how good things feel. I know I’m way ahead of my PR. I begin to wonder how long I’ll be able to keep this. I easily find a groove and gradually push harder

Mile 7: 6:41

Mile 8 seems to come very quickly and its right before a steep dip followed by a steep climb. I see people struggle to climb out, but I find it easy knowing the climb will be short.

Mile 8: 6:36

The turn around point is right before mile 9. I’m running down the Grand Concourse fast and easily the way I wanted to do Ocean Parkway at the Brooklyn half. There’s a nice breeze that occasionally hits us throughout this whole part of the course.

Mile 9: 6:39

The turn around before mile 9 is a sharp 180 degree turn around a little orange cone. Not a turn where we run wide around a divider of some sort. This sort of turn is like a complete dead stop and then you start again.

At the turn around everything almost falls a part. Things all of a sudden feel difficult. It’s feels like everything came to a screeching halt and I can’t get it going again.

I start to do the math in my head trying to calculate the time I have left to complete the last four miles. What kind of time would I have if I maintained current pace and what kind of time if I fell into a slow easy pace? I figure if I maintain pace I do 1:26 something and then quickly dismiss thinking I’m making some arithmetic error. Sub 90 if I blow up and start doing 8 minute miles.

Four miles now seems long, while for the majority of the race, every mile just clicked off. I begin to think this is where my race might turn to disaster. I questioned whether or not I’d be able to keep it for the entire race and suspected I might blow up at some point. That point might be now.

I do my best to keep going and try find the groove I had throughout the race. There’s a guy who’s been running somewhere in my vicinity for the whole time and has been breathing loud and heavy. I feel like he’s right next to me. I have headphones on, but I still hear his loud breathing and it’s screwing up my rhythm. I’m finding my breathing pattern is matching is subconsciously like a metronome and it’s all wrong for me. It’s making the effort harder. There’s no way for me to get away from it.

Eventually, before I hit mile 10, I go down that same steep drop and back up in the opposite direction as before and realize things are feeling a bit better.

Mile 10: 6:47

I decide to play it cautious as I run towards the end of the Grand Concourse. I focus on trying feel good rather than pushing pace. I know I’m way ahead of a big PR and I don’t want to risk losing it all. It doesn’t count if I run a great half marathon to mile 10 and then blow up.

Almost done

Mile 11: 6:48

On to mile 12 we go down the decline on Mosholu Parkway again. The heavy breather passes me and I shout some encouragement “go, go, go!”. Glad to see him go! I guess he took it as clearance to do whatever he likes because he practically steps on my feet as he cuts right in front of me. “go, go, go” becomes “whoa, whoa, whoa – careful”, and I had to touch him a few times so he would know how close he was.

We wrap around the mile 3 marker again, and up the same incline and I see the mile 12 marker for the second time. I start to let it out knowing I have a mile to go and I got this in the bag.

Mile 12: 6:43

On to mile 13, as we turn off the parkway, its flat and you could see mile 13 way off in the distance. I lock in and just maintain the fastest pace I could keep for the rest of the mile.

Official time 1:27:10

Mile 13: 6:35
Mile 13.1: 0:35 (5:56 min/mi)

I check my watch and it says 1:27. I think wow, I hit my goal. Went right passed 1:28 all the way to 1:27. Then I fidget with the garmin to find out how far under 1:28 my time was. 1:27:13? I question if everything is correct.

Official results come out and its 1:27:10. At the beginning of this year, I wasn’t sure if I would go under 1:28 anytime soon, but I see I’m very close doing a sub 1:27.

This was a breakthrough race for me. I’m now confident I’m capable of eventually doing a sub 3 hour marathon one day. The race predictor calculators put me under a 3:02 marathon. I definitely can’t do a 3:02 marathon now, but what it does mean is that with the right training, it’s not beyond my limits. I’m sure I can squeeze a little bit more and then from there and make it 2:59:59.

The next and last half of the series is the Staten Island half. I grew up there and its one hell of a trip from where I live now. Ironically, there’s a half marathon right down the road on the same exact day. I’m having trouble justifying going out to Staten Island October 9th when I can walk to the Westchester half marathon from my house. The course is along the Bronx River Parkway and it’s the one where I ran my first marathon. In fact, I occasionally train on it during bicycle sundays.

It looks like Staten Island will remain the forgotten borough for me this year.

Queens Half Race Report

July 25, 2010

herb race report, racing, running NYRR, queens half marathon, race report 3 Comments

I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out why I was going through with the queens half. Given the forecasted 100 degree heat it was clear there would be no PR for this race, much less anything near a time I would feel good about. Days before the race I already decided it would be a 13 mile tempo run. Worst case, it would be good preparation for the Bronx in august.

The night before I didn’t have any pre race anxiety since I wasn’t holding myself to any expectations. In fact, I polished off 2 bottles of wine and half a pie of pizza with Tony while reminiscing about badwater. Waking up on race morning I still felt the wine and considered skipping this all together. The only problem was I had plans to carpool with Mark and I still had to give him his bib and D-tag. I considered driving out to him just to drop it off, but realized how silly it would be to not at least do a training run along the race course

Driving out to Queens was quick and easy, and the parking situation was absolutely fantastic. Many spots right under the Van Wyck. I can’t think of any other nyrr race where there was so much available parking near the start. For those travelling by subway, that was also close by.

Getting out of the car I noticed it was already 88F. I was secretly hoping the time spent during Badwater and Las Vegas would help me manage the heat. For all I know, it might have. I might have had a tougher time otherwise, but I certainly wasn’t immune to the conditions as you’ll see in my race result.

At the start the announcements were being drilled into our heads as to how we should take it easy and not go for a personal best. Seek medical attention if necessary and drink plenty of fluids. Yadda yadda, etc etc.

The new Queens Half Marathon Course

Finally we’re off, and starting out things didn’t feel so bad. Without the sun shining on us I thought this race just might be manageable. I was pacing along side Mark and saw a 6:36 pace on my garmin at the half mile. I mentioned this and stated I would slow it down. First mile marker hit in 6:45

By the time we hit the second mile marker we were out of the park in mostly direct sunlight. Things were still bearable while I was able to keep in the shade when there was some. The smells at this point were absolutely sickening though. I began to wonder if this was in fact the Staten Island half based on the odors. The first smell we hit was a cross between fried chicken and fried doughnuts and it was so strong I was gagging. Hitting Mile 2 nauseas in 6:52, I began to secretly hoping for sub a 90.

To mile 3 we pass through quite an industrial area. On the left side came huge billows of black smoke right into the course from some construction site. All runners gagged. Mark joked about this part of the race as improving is CO max. Even before this I noticed the air quality was pretty crappy. I don’t usually huff and puff during a half marathon but today I was breathing harder than usual. Mile 3 in 6:54

Before mile 4 we turned around and headed back. In fact, the mile marker for 4 might have been right where the aforementioned black smoke was. Luckily none of it seemed to be there as we passed by a second time. Although, at this point the sun was out full force, less shade was available, and I was beginning to lose motivation. Why push hard for a sub par time? My split for Mile 4 shows it too. 7:08

Mile 5 was without incident but completely in the sun and I was baking at this point. Mile 5 split was 7:09

The water stops for this race seemed to be between mile markers. And at the one that was on the way to mile 6 I stopped to grab 3 or 4 cups of water and walked a bit while slowly pouring them over my head. In past races, especially my last half in brooklyn, I’ve felt guilty when stopping and walking. Today I had no bones about it and I was glad to do it. I wasn’t the only one either. Picking it back up afterwards things felt easier, and although the stops slow my overall pace, my actual moving pace became faster. Mile 6 was 7:28 with the water stop.

Most of the rest of the race in the middle miles are a bit blurry. I remember thinking this was thee hardest race I ever ran. I continued stopping at every water stop to dump water on my head. There weren’t many areas along the course e where we weren’t in direct sunlight, but I noticed the one or two areas where we did have shade I was able to run much stronger. I was glad because it validated I would have been capable of more on a better day. I also noticed there weren’t many people passing and most who did I later passed before the end.

Mile 7: 7:32
Mile 8: 7:34
Mile 9: 7:47
Mile 10: 7:48
Mile 11: 7:52
Mile 12: 7:52

Right after 12 we got some shade along the course and things felt best. Ironic since the last couple of miles are always the hardest for me in a half.

The Flushing Meadows Park Globe floating in a pool of turpentine.

Just before getting to 13, I started pushing hard as we ran around the big metal globe. All of a sudden I began to feel faint and dizzy, but not from the effort or heat. But rather from the turpentine fumes coming from the guys painting the pool that the thing sits in. I held my breath as I finished making my way around the bend.

Mile 13: 7:15

Just as I passed 13 and as I was passing other runners, some guy came past me like a bullet. I decided I should do the same and stuck with him. As we approach the finish line we got cheers for kicking and the announcer shouted both our names to my surprise.

Mile 13.1: 0:39
Finish : 1:36:40

Overall, my splits look slow but my moving pace was actually faster if you consider the fact I stopped for every mile to pour water on my head and cool down. Several times throughout, I thought to myself it was a shame to have this race during the hottest time of July. Despite the first crappy 4 miles and the wet noodle look of the course on the map, the new course had potential to be a favorite, and may even surpass brooklyn in popularity.

In the end I was pretty happy with my performance despite this being an absolute personal worst.
I’ve seen debate about whether equivalent efforts in the heat have as much benefits as faster runs in better conditions. I’m convinced the benefits are not the same simply based on how my legs feel. Nonetheless, there are a lot of good tempo paced miles in there and I feel satisfied with a good workout.

Pineland farms 50 mile race report

June 1, 2010

herb race report, racing, running 6 Comments

Although I did the Caumsett 50k back in March, I feel like this race was my first real ultra. I learned a lot during this race, especially that there is a huge difference between a 50k and a 50 mile race. A 50k isn’t too far different from a marathon. A 50 miler is in another league completely.

I basically went in there with slightly more expectations for the 50 miler than I did for the 50k. For the 50k, I had no expectations. For the 50 miler, I was thinking I would maintain a pace of 7:50 to 8:30 per mile throughout. This is basically the range at which I run my easy pace or recovery runs with 8:00 being what i fall into most often. But, since this is on a trail and the course has a reputation of being hilly and uncomfortable, I decided to be extra conservative and stick to 8:30 miles. I later learned how naive I was about the distance, and got my ass handed to me as a result.

I travelled up to Maine with four other folks. Natalia, who is somewhat still new to ultras, but has at least a couple of 50s under her belt. Bob, who would not be running because he didn’t feel he was in racing condition, but would be crewing for us instead. Brian, who’s quite accomplished with 3rd place in Brazil’s 135 and is set to run Badwater this July. And Tony, who is also doing Badwater, and who I’ll be crewing for.

At the start, I thought to myself how I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was realizing how under prepared I was. I was the only one with no water bottle while most had two or a camelback. And, I had no gels or Perpetuum or any other kind of “nutrition”. I figured with the aid stations a couple of miles apart I’ll be fine.

The course was a 3.5 mile loop followed by 3 laps of a 25km loop.

I started out following Brian’s pace. I figured he knows what he’s doing so don’t pass him. Stick with him as long as things feel easy. We were maintaining 8:30s anyway, but it still felt slow. Because of congestion, he would get stuck behind on occasion, and before the first 3.5 miles, I lost him. He was behind me one minute, then he wasn’t the next.

Then I kept trying to find someone else to pace against. But, at this point everything already thinned out and there weren’t many around. Whoever I happened to latch on to, the pace would just be crazy with no consistency. Going uphill was ridiculously slow. Slower than I could run comfortably. Going so slow uphill actually felt harder than running an easy pace. If you’re the kind like me who prefers to run up stairs instead of walking them, you’ll understand what I mean. Then going downhill was ridiculously fast. Faster than I could run comfortably. Any faster I felt I would risk injury. Each time, I just wound up on my own again because I decided it was easier to keep even effort for up and down.

Somewhere around the halfway mark I saw a little over 3:30 on my Garmin. Average pace was slower than 8:30. I didn’t blow up at that point, but I knew it was coming. The surface of the fields were getting to me. With poor footing and running on slanted ground my feet were sliding within my shoes.

At the four hour mark, my Garmin gave a low battery warning. I also fell during the second lap and took a pretty nasty roll downhill a bit. Lucky, I wasn’t hurt at all. I cannot remember if I noticed my Garmin was off before or after the fall. But, I found out later the next day, the Garmin would never turn on again, which is why I don’t have splits for this report.

Coming around on the second part of the second lap with 20 miles to go, I stopped by Bob who was crewing for us and got some gels. I knew at that point I was going to crash and confided I wasn’t doing well. He gave me a salt tablet, along with a tylenol and words of encouragement.

Before I finished the second lap, climbing out of the second part uphill did me in. I was so nauseas, I considered calling it quits with 15 miles left. Then the thought of having to do just one 25km lap made it mentally easier, so I continued on.

The last lap wound up being a death march and I did my best to keep from puking the whole time. I was walking up hills and down steep declines. A lot of walking mixed into the running. I was dead tired and just wanted to stop. I never imagined it would get this bad.

Before finishing, Tony caught up to me and carried me out of the second part of the last lap (the same area where things went bad on the second lap). If he didn’t show up with Sid, who was pacing him, I would have easily dragged my ass along for an extra 15 minutes.

When we got to the aid station, he filled up his water bottle while I drank what I could and began sucking on oranges and kept sucking on oranges until he reminded me it was time to go. At this point we were on a mostly flat field and there was no way I could keep up with them, but with a mile left I knew I could get myself to the finish. Eventually, I did and was just so happy to be done.

The whole thing took me 8:50:40. I was out there for almost 9 hours. About 3:35 for the first half and 5:15 for the second half with the last 15 miles being the slowest. I’m not really happy about this. Not so much the time, but the execution.

I was toying with the idea of doing the Javelina Jundred 100 mile race in October, but I decided the time is not right for a number of reasons. I want to do another 50 before doing a 100, and I want to feel the 50 was successful. I wont put a time goal on it, at least not for now, but I’ll judge my success on how I run it. If I can maintain a consistent pace throughout the whole 50 miles, I’ll consider it a success.

Besides, a 100 mile race in October will take a different type of training than for a marathon. At the moment, I want to focus on another marathon in the fall. Training for a 100 will interfere with that. And, even if I could pull it off, I do not want to go out and just “do a 100″. I went out and “just did a 50 miler” last weekend, and in the end, I realized I was foolish for trying to wing it.

Despite that, I’m glad I did it and enjoyed the whole weekend as a result. The leg cramps, indigestion, and hiccups on the 6 hour ride home was even fun. I find people within the running community to be pretty cool, so naturally the people in the ultra running community seems to be ultra cool. The only regret I have is not better preparing myself for the distance; maybe more of a knowledge perspective rather than a physical one.

In the meantime, I’ve ordered a replacement for my Forerunner 305 and decided to upgrade to the 310xt instead of the new 405. I came very very close to getting the 405. I even had it in my virtual shopping cart, but after reading all the reviews, I realized everyone who loves the 405 never had a garmin previously, while everyone who hated it was comparing it to the forerunner 305. Plus, the fact that you can’t change things on the screen when it gets wet was the nail in the coffin.

And lastly, as a result of the poor footing and the 50 miles, I have something of an injury on my left big toe. It’s been cropping up, but I’ve been keeping it abated by taking a day off here and there. Now it hurts to walk so it might be a few days before I’m back to running. I figure, when the 310xt arrives, I’ll be ready to get back out there.

Brooklyn Half Race Report

May 24, 2010

herb race report, racing, running brooklyn half marathon, half-marathon, race report 3 Comments

As usual, I didn’t sleep much the night before the race. Having a 7am start meant waking up at 4am so that I could get out the door by 4:30. The pressure of having to get to sleep quickly so I can get enough hours of sleep always keeps me awake. I mostly just laid in bed the whole night somewhere in between sleeping and being awake. Each hour I would look at the clock to see if it was time to get up.

Some time after 2am I think I slept for a bit, less than an hour if at all, because I remember suddenly forcing myself awake to see it was 3:09am. The next thing I knew, the alarm was going off at 4:15am and I woke up in confusion from a deep sound sleep that couldn’t have been for more than hour. But, it was enough. I’ve performed fine on less sleep, so I knew I had nothing to worry about. Back in the beginning of the year, I mentioned I was hoping to break 89 minutes during this race, and hoping to be significantly under.

I made by way down to Mamaroneck to meet with Mark, and we would drive together to the start in Prospect Park. This race was a logistical nightmare, being a point to point, we would have to take the subway back to wherever it was we parked. Plus, finding parking by Prospect Park was something I was stressing about, and I believe Mark expressed concerns as well. It turns out the parking situation was not a problem at all. There seemed to be plenty of parking along Flatbush ave. If fact, there were hardly any cars that I could see. Nonetheless, we grabbed the first spot we could, which was quite a way from the start, yet right near the Grand Army Plaza train stop so it would make for a convenient return. We had plenty of time to spare and with things being a little chilly, walking to the start would be a good way to kill the hour or so we had. Plus, we had no bags to check in. Finding port-a-potties was the only task left to do.

While walking to the start, there was a long descent downhill. I saw the mile 2 marker and realized based on the direction we were headed, we would be going up this incline in the opposite direction. I found this somewhat intimidating. The only time I’ve ever run in Prospect Park was during the Brooklyn half in previous years when the course went in the opposite direction and ended in the park. I remembered things being tough in the park, but chalked it up to being the end of the race and going through the usual struggle one would expect. Now that the race is in the reverse direction and starts in the park, with two loops instead of one, I wondered a few days prior how Prospect Park compared to Central Park and found a thread on letsrun.com that seemed to say the two were comparable with clockwise of Prospect Park being easier. The race was counter-clockwise. And after the race, I would make my own assessment that two loops of Prospect Park is definitely more difficult than one lap of Central Park.

I decided my strategy would be to take it easy around the park, and find a fast pace when things flattened out for the last half. Thinking of the flat ocean parkway we were going to be running down in the second half, I was really looking forward to this race for weeks. I felt excited about the thought of finding a hard fast groove to finish out this race strong. I mentioned this to Mark, that I think it’s important to go easy at first and hit it hard in the end. I would then proceed to do the complete opposite as you’ll soon find out.

As we were headed to the race, the nausea I felt earlier from taking the doxycycline was coming out full force. I’ve been dealing with this since I found the lyme infected tick, and this is an expected side effect. It’s something I’m used to and hasn’t really gotten in the way of my running. Nausea is a familiar feeling for me during running so I just deal with it. Although, with no one else around, Mark had to hear my whining and complaints about it before the race.

At the start, I turned on the Garmin and couldn’t seem to get a signal. The status bar, which I question as to whether or not gives any real indication to the status, seemed to make it way to the right side slowly filling up, and suddenly jerk back to halfway. I’m convinced the status indicator serves no real purpose other than to give some entertainment to the person waiting for the Garmin to lock on enough satellites. I write software, so I’m guilty of doing things like this myself.

After resetting it and trying different things, I just gave up and decided to use it as a simple stopwatch to manually take my splits at the mile markers. I would have to forgo the luxury of knowing my average pace while running, and in the early miles, this would prove to be a problem for me.

Starting out, I tried to stretch out my legs and find a fast easy pace I could manage for the distance. The start was basically downhill so I had some trouble adjusting the effort. The first mile is always the toughest to gauge. And my split wound up proving that.

Mile 1: 6:30
When I hit the mile marker I was a bit surprised thinking I was doing something closer to 6:50. Unfortunately, since I didn’t have the GPS signal on the Garmin, I had to run a whole mile before realizing I needed to slow it down.

The second mile felt completely uphill. There might have been small parts that descended, but none of it was enough for relief. The whole time during mile two, I am managing my effort and I think its too early in the race to have an incline like this without a warmup.

Mile 2: 6:43
Although the second split is slower, its still too fast, especially considering the effort I’m putting into the hill. And the hill continues up to mile three. I made another effort to slow things down. It feels like the park is a spiral staircase constantly going up and around with out any downs.

Mile 3: 6:30
Gaah!! Still too fast! I almost got the first loop of the park done, but I’m questioning if I can do another loop. Shortly after mile 3, things are descending and the decent goes right past the start, but the incline begins again before mile 4. After mile 4, the hills during the second loop become tougher, and the pessimistic thoughts begin. I hope I can make it out of the park and that the flat course along Ocean Parkway would give me a chance to recover.

Mile 4 : 6:30
Mile 5 : 6:49
Mile 6 : 6:55
I’m putting a lot of effort in now, and the whole time I’m wondering if it’s because I’m running too fast or if the course is just tough. I’m typically strong on the hills and I cannot understand exactly what’s going wrong, but whatever it is, it’s too late to change anything. Should I be pushing harder to maintain pace, or slow it down even more which would be slower than target pace. I know, after this lap, I’ll be out of the park, and hopefully things will come together. I run downhill to mile 7, and exit the park.

Mile 7: 6:26
I almost have to remind myself that I still have 6 more miles to go and this is only the halfway mark, not the finish. Not only that, but things havent exactly flattened out yet. We have a couple of significant climbs to get to ocean parkway that seem intimidating but I get myself over them and on to mile 8. I asses how I feel. I compare it to how I typically feel when I have 6 miles left on my long runs at marathon pace. I know the exact point where I have 6 miles left, and if I felt like I did now I would want to slow things down considerably. I decide with only 7 miles behind me, the next 6 should feel easier than if I had 14 behind me. I decide I am not in good shape. I make my way on to 8 still hoping I’ll get out of this bad patch as I spend more time running on the flatter part of the course.

Mile 8 : 6:34
On my way to mile 9 things really don’t feel so well. I can’t pinpoint what exactly it is. My breathing is hard, my legs are tired, I was still somewhat nauseous, and things are getting hot. But it’s not clear what is bothering me most, but my pace was now slowing and I knew it. This is exactly the point where I should have opened up and did 6:30′s to the finish. Instead I was fading and people are starting to pass me. I’m angry at myself since I am now not going to get that opportunity to run hard at this point, which is what I’ve been looking forward to the most for this race.

Mile 9 : 6:50
I push on towards mile 10, wishing I had a reason to stop. I am mentally giving up now. I want to stop so bad and I cannot shake the thought from my head.

I think of conversations I’ve had with Tony, who does ultras. He spoke about dropping out of races and why he never has, and never will unless it’s a severe health issue or an injury. At the distances he races, a 100 miles or more for example, finishing is a real achievement, and in ultras, there is a high dropout rate. DNF’s are more acceptable in that genre.

But, to the point, I understood his reasoning. You drop out once, it becomes easier to drop out again. It sets a precedent and I completely identified with this when drawing my own comparison to stopping and walking a shorter race of marathon distance or under. I’ve never DNF’ed, but I’ve stopped in the past, walked it some, and even jogged it, which at that point, feels the same to me like a DNF.

Mile 10: 7:00
I hit mile 10. I’m disappointed to see I am so far off target of 6:45 pace. A minute later I stop. I am becoming that guy who walks when it gets tough. I’ve been setting that precedent. I can think of a time when I’ve wanted to stop so bad in the past during a race, but would always push through it. I can think of a time I never would have done this. Now it’s like a habit.

Stopping like this has always been the kiss of death for my race. NYC Half, back in August for example. It would be a constant struggle to get back on pace, or just give up and jog to the finish.

I’m now ashamed and pissed at myself for stopping during this race. I cough a bit and attempt to regain a better breathing pattern. I then pick it up. It feels so much slower, but I press on and concentrate on a feeling I can maintain rather than holding a fast pace.

Mile 11: 7:10
I realize the pace is close to the same as before I stopped despite the feeling of running slower. I determine this based on estimating I walked for about 10 seconds. I know I’m close to the finished, but the thought of two more miles feels like torture again. The last two miles of the Boston marathon didn’t feel this bad. I continue to get passed by many people and it’s throwing off my groove. I feel like kicking one guy who runs around me and then in right front of me. Ocean Parkway is huge and wide and I’m dead center with no one else around, so I don’t understand the reason for coming so close.

Mile 12: 7:02
One more mile to go. I remember at the start, the announcer saying the finish was by the parachute jump. I’m constantly looking for it. I finally see it and cannot gauge how far it is. I don’t have my garmin to give me an estimate of how far from the 12 mile marker I am.

We come to ramp of the boardwalk and I run up thinking I’m close. I decide to let it all out. I now pass a bunch of people, I make a right, but I can’t even see the damn mile marker for 13 when I make the turn.

I realize I just kicked way too soon. I run some more but I have nothing. I’m angry at the whole race. I’m angry at stopping at mile 10. I justify stopping again. I walk for a bit, unclear how much and just hoping the dizzy feeling goes away. A spectator screams at me “c’mon, you’re almost there”, as if I didn’t know. I cant even open my eyes to see her. Another runner, whom I passed prior, encourages me to go with him, and I do.

Mile 13 : 7:07
I keep going. I see three mats towards the finish. One mat is significantly in front of the start. I run past it hoping its the finish, and keep going to where the other two are. After passing both, I stop running and hit stop on my watch.

Mile 13.1 : 0:41 (~6:50)

My watch says 1:29:05. I missed it by 5 seconds.

I’m sure I spent more time than that walking.

But, I have a PR. But, who cares. It’s a shitty PR by 11 seconds, hardly significant. It”s not even a second per mile improvement.

Besides, what I wanted more was to be racing hard down Ocean Parkway, than necessarily getting a PR. I ran it like shit and I’ll be dwelling on it for a bit. I stopped. I can make plenty of excuses. I did that very well at mile 10. I won’t do it now because, in the end, it doesn’t change anything.

The saying “pain is temporary, but quitting is forever” comes to mind, and I swear to myself I’ll never stop so easily again.

Boston Post Mortem

May 5, 2010

herb race report, racing, running, training Boston Marathon, Boston Marathon race report 4 Comments

Ok, I’ve been putting this off a bit too long. I wanted to write a post mortem on boston just to get a few facts down. If I dont do that first, I wont be able to record anything that successively came after Boston because I’m too OCD. My trip to Kyiv has quite a bit worth blogging about for instance.

First off, I had a strep test after the race and it came back negative. On the one hand, it may just mean its inconclusive as to whether or not I had strep because I took a bunch of azithromycin beforehand. Yet, the possibility does exists that I didn’t have strep that day. I dont really know, and I dont think it matters from the perspective of the race. But, the more I think about it, the more I realize, with strep comes a fever and just an overall feeling of weakness I’m very familiar with. It’s unlikely I could PR with strep, much less get through 20 miles. That doesnt discount the fact I had something real going on that was painful however. I dont think swollen glands can be the result of something psychosomatic. Besides, imagined or not, I had real pain and swelling in my throat.

The Boston marathon is a PR course. You just need to run it right. Perhaps me being so conservative running Boston because of my fear of illness allowed me to cross the finish with the time I did. Perhaps ironic in a way. I dont know.

Boston is like a giant party. Everyone treats you like a rockstar and you need to experience it to understand why it’s so great. I think everyone should do it regardless of how you get there.

I think the qualifying times are an arbitrary standard and I have never disagreed with them more now than before. If you’ve ever done research as to why they were put in place, you would know they were done so as a way to eliminate the surplus of applicants that the race could not handle. Other marathons have better systems to accomplish this. Boston has (or had at one point) a false sense of belief that these time qualifications will weed out the less serious runners. These qualifying times became a standard people felt they need to hold themselves to.

Someone’s speed has little to do their passion. I don’t think someone who has talent is necessarily more deserving to run Boston than a slower individual who might be more dedicated. Raising money for charity to get into the race may be a fair way to measure dedication to the sport, but I think Boston needs to learn lessons from other marathons. New York’s 9+1 program is a perfect example of measuring one’s dedication, but locality of the participant gives an unfair advantage to those in the NY area. First come, first serve, or lottery is also fair IMHO.

I also want to record how I failed at Boston. One of my goals is to better manage the stress of these events (and life in general). When I think of the training, time, and money spent towards these events, I begin to place a lot of importance on the results. With so much invested, I better get a good result or so much is wasted. I think everyone who trains for events like this does the same, but for me, the importance becomes a source of stress and managing this stress has always been a challenge.

With this race, regardless of the reason, whether I really had an illness, or if it was in my head, staying up all night worrying about it was a failure for me. I need to learn how to better let go. In the end things worked out ok. Better than I could have ever imagined beforehand in fact. But, I believe for other reasons than due to how I coped with the curveball thrown at me.

With that said, Boston is done. I’m giving a lot of thought to what I want to be able to do in my running, and its more about being able to run far, hard, without much effort rather than getting PRs at races. Quite a different mindset to what I measured myself against before. But it’s really what I enjoy. I fell in love with running before I ever ran a race and before I knew what the initials PR stood for. Getting out there, feeling strong, and going as hard as I can over distance further than I have the patience to drive my car is what I really love doing.

I’ll still race. The Brooklyn half is next and I’ll attack it more out of curiosity. I still want to break 1:29:00. And, I’m trying to decide between the Hartford marathon and Philly for next fall. I still need a target to focus on, but now its going to be secondary to my training, rather than my training being a means to an end.

Boston Marathon Race Report

April 25, 2010

herb race report, racing, running Boston Marathon, Boston Marathon race report, race report, strep throat 7 Comments

After finishing peeing, I jumped back into the race full of nerves and a bit of fear. I kept thinking to myself, I’m not ready to run a marathon. Not that I felt I wasn’t trained for one, but in my current condition, I felt I should not be running. I also remember my thighs having a strange feeling of fatigue just starting out. I thought this early in the race it’s a bad sign for sure. I decided my strategy was to find a comfortable pace that I could maintain the whole way. My only goal was to not drop out and to not be forced to struggle by run/walking it in.

Mile 1 : 7:31
I remember the first mile being pretty steep downhill. I reminded myself to just take it easy. Nonetheless, I know I ran it faster than I should have. Including the 30 seconds or so for the pit stop, I hit the first mile marker in 7:31

Mile 2 : 7:06
Mile 3 : 7:10
Mile 4 : 7:08
I see these splits and I’m somewhat surprised I’m moving this fast, but I also believe I’m putting too much effort in too early on. I think to myself I should find someone to latch on to since I’ve been passing people with lower bid numbers than mine. I also begin to think there’s a chance I might actually have a good run today. I’m still not thinking race yet.

Mile 5 : 7:20
I ask a guy with a bib in the lower 5000′s (I was 7073) what his target pace was. I forget the answer, but I remember it was a faster pace than I wanted, yet, my current pace was taking me past him. I explained I was afraid I’m hitting this too hard too early on and asked if I could run with him a bit. He agrees.

I question him a few times as to whether or not we were actually doing our target pace and if we were going too slow. He claimed we were going up hill. I thought it was flat, maybe a slight incline, but ok. I decided he was wiser than I, so I stuck with him forcing myself to slow it down. After we hit mile 5 I see its significantly slower at 7:20. That was average for the whole mile and I figure we were doing a 7:40 pace for the time we were together. I lose him because he’s slowing down even more.

Mile 6 : 7:07
I remember a nice flat wide open street. My memory is still very foggy but I’m fairly certain there were train tracks running parallel to the left of the course. I remember the sun coming out and thinking I’m not going to last. Each time I take water it reminds me how bad my throat hurts. Swallowing is an effort since my throat is swollen and sore. At mile 6, or around the 10K mark, I take my first gel which is a coffee flavored Hammer Gel. It winds up being a mess and getting all over my hands. I usually take coffee flavored Gus and find them the easiest to get down in one gulp and avoid it having to mix around in my mouth.

As I take the Hammer Gel, I have a lot of trouble opening it, and never get the top completely off. I try and suck some of it out through the tiny opening. I try again, in vain, to pull the top off, but the bit of gel and spit on the top just made my fingers slip. Biting doesn’t work either since it slips through my teeth. I suck on it some more and throw it hard on the ground in frustration since its disrupting my rhythm and breathing. I considered opening one of the other two I have, but I decide it would be better to save them.

From here on through the middle of the race. I can’t remember the order of things or at what mile anything occurred. I mostly just phase out and try to focus on my ipod and ignore the way I feel. The sun kept coming in and out, and each time it comes out I suffer. Whenever it goes back in, it turns a bit chilly with the wind blowing, and this is a big relief and I feel absolutely great.

I remember all the water stops throughout the race and thinking, oh no, another one already? Probably a good thing considering it meant the miles were going by quicker than I realized. But, they felt more like a burden because forcing to get the water down hurt my throat. Each time I was also thrown out of my groove because of the amount of runners who did not know how to properly get water. Often, someone would shoot over from the left, grab water, and practically stop in front of me to drink it before I was able to grab my own cup. The fact that the water stops weren’t nearly as long as what New York only exacerbated the problem.

Mile 7: 7:05
Mile 8: 7:13
Mile 9: 7:03
Mile 10: 6:59
Mile 11: 7:02
Mile 12: 7:05
Somewhere in these splits, I run through a town, and a guy with a loudspeaker situated in front of a business establishment is doing a lot of talking, cheering, and maybe some advertisement. I hear him shout to the runners, “as you pass by, take a look at yourselves in the window (reflection), you look great!!” I take his advice, turn my head to the right and look. I think to myself, “my god, that’s what I look like?” I don’t think I move or look like a runner. I think my body type is all wrong compared to those around me. I look heavy, and feel heavy. My clothes are too tight, my ass is too fat, and my head is too big and too shiny.

Mile 13: 7:08
Mile 14: 7:06
I take my second gel shortly after the half marathon mark and I’m scared I will choke on it because of my swollen throat. It instead slides down without incident. I double the time on my Garmin and see I’m set up for a 3:08. I worry if I’m screwing this up royally. I wonder at what point will the time come where I’m reduced to walking.

Within these two splits is Wellesley College. I take off my headphones about a mile early to see if I hear the screaming. I hear lots of screaming, but it’s not clear where its coming from, whether it be the spectators or from what lies ahead of us. Eventually, we pass the college girls and the place called the “scream tunnel“, and I’m surprised to see there is absolutely no tunnel to run through. I thought there would at least be an overpass we would be running under.

I take a look at all the girls and I’m surprised how young they look, which makes me feel old. They’re all lined up and have big smiles and are holding signs above their heads encouraging runners to stop for kisses. I veer over to the left a bit. But, not far enough that I couldn’t see their faces well.

I’ve heard stories they reach out and grabbed runners to kiss. I make eye contact with a few as I pass and the smile on one of them very much tempts me to stop. But, even on a good day, I wouldn’t have done so. When I think of all the other runners they’re kissing, I see this sort of thing like kissing a petri dish full of the herpes simplex 1 virus. Then, combined with the fact I would give her my strep throat, and in turn, to every other runner she entices that comes after me, I decide to shoot her a corny wink instead.

I only see two runners who pull to the side. They looked like they were trying hard to get something from one or more of the girls they were talking to, but I dont witness any kissing. More like asking for kissing maybe.

Then comes a nice hill and I pass this runner wearing some sort of wings.

Eventually, I get to a long flat long decline, thinking the newton hills are coming and I feel like utter crap. I’m not ready for them. I think to myself, “I’ve failed miserably in my goal of keeping the pace easy.” I think to myself I’m going have to walk when I hit these hills and it’s too late to change anything. My throat is still hurting.

Mile 15: 7:17
Mile 16: 7:12
As I’m getting over the first hill I think to myself it’s not that bad.Thoughts of the Rockies go through my head. Getting up this first hill gives me a very familiar feeling like climbing up the hills in Rockwood Hall, but no where near as intense.

On the downhill, I see a platoon of army guys bouncing as they “jogged” in formation. Each of them have their left hand on the shoulder of the guy in front of them. Throughout the course I sporadically passed a lot these guys, but this is the first time I see so many together and doing something different from hiking. They don’t seem to move fast, but they’re carrying a load of gear. They do look pretty cool and I’m a bit impressed. As they pass the spectators, the cheers got louder.

Mile 17: 7:23
Mile 18: 7:25
Mile 19: 7:22
I don’t remember any of hills in any order and everything is a blur. I come to another hill and I see it curve around to left with no clue of how high it goes. I put my head down looked about 7 steps ahead of me on the ground and just focused on my form and feeling. I was doing quite a bit of passing still. I come to a group of three runners running side by side. I’m tired, miserable, and ticked they’re forming a wall that I now need to go around. Why do I have to now add more effort to this? Without giving any warning, I push through two of them… maybe harder than I should have.. Well, it’s not like they could do anything about it. They’re in no position to chase me down or anything. I leave them in the dust. At this point, I’m thinking I still feel pretty good considering.

Mile 20: 7:28
Mile 21: 7:47
I come to another hill and start going up. I think to myself, I better slow this down because I am now starting to feel the effort, and perhaps I shouldn’t be passing so many people afterall. It’s now somewhere after mile 20 and the thought of running up hills like this until mile 22 will finish me. I slow it down a bit and get to the top of the hill. Mile 21. I see a sign saying something about heartbreak hill. I lose count of the hills. Did I do three or four hills? I could have sworn the end of heartbreak hill was mile 22. I shout to my left, “was that it?”. No one answers me. I shout again, “was that the last hill?”. One guy turns to me looking very tired and replies “yeah”

I look at my Garmin. The distance is reporting longer than mile 21 so I’m not sure what my exact overall pace is, but I figure I might actually PR this thing since its way under 7:26. I just need to maintain my pace until the end.

Mile 22: 7:09
Then I go running downhill to Mile 22.

I pass the graveyard which was mentioned in the film at the expo the day prior. There are hills along the way and I welcome them because running downhill hurts. I’m reminded of the downhills towards the end of the NYC marathon. Uphill is now easier than down. I can lean into up and move the effort to a different part of my thighs. Going down I can’t accommodate anything. I see some people passing out popsicle sticks near a gas station and I wonder if its something to eat. I soon realize it’s vaseline.

Mile 23: 7:16
Mile 24: 7:17
I look at my watch and I think I’m going to finish under 3:15. I keep thinking to myself I cant believe this is going to happen.

But, things are becoming harder. Its more downhill than anything else. I’m exhausted. We run along some straight flat roads at some point. There are a bunch of idiot bandits on the course. Not bandits who are runners, but idiots who decide to run along with the crowd for thrills. They don’t know how to run and they take up a lot of room and are slow. The fatigue, and exhaustion, and pain of everything is making me extremely irritable and I hate everyone at the moment. I want to get done. I don’t need these jackasses in my way ruining this for me. I see a guy on the right side of the road walking. Just as I pass him, I hear some asshole spectator, who is drinking beer with his buddies on the curb, says something to him in a tone that is far from encouraging, but rather mocking. “C’mon on now Phil, that’s not the way to do it.”

Off in the distance I see the Citgo sign and it feel it’s too far away. I’m hoping to hold it together. It would be awesome to PR.

Mile 25: 7:22
Mile 26: 7:36
Before hitting the Citgo sign there’s an overpass of some sort. It’s a hill. It’s too steep. This type of up does not feel better than down. It’s not even that high, just feels steep. I slow down. I think to myself, I’m way under my PR. I can afford to slow it a little. My goal was just to finish anyway. I come very close to changing my gait. I consider walking just over the hill. I then think to myself, if I walk, it’ll be harder to start again and I’m only a mile a way. But it feels like a far mile. Before changing my gait, I pick it back up and get over it.

I pass Hotel Commonwealth where I’m staying and I do not see my wife. I’m disappointed.

We go under an overpass and then come back up. Please let this be the last incline. I regret slowing down like I did earlier and now I don’t dare go any faster than what I’m currently holding. In retrospect I regret not pushing harder here. I see 3:06 on my garmin. I know I’m not far but I don’t know how far.

I come out from under the overpass. I turn right, I turn left, I go up a hill and before I turn left again I hear my named being screamed several times under the roar of the crowd. It’s coming from voices that do not belong to my wife. No one I can think of could be a spectator knowing I’m running this. I dismiss it and convinced I’m hearing things. Then I turn my head quickly to the left and just see a mess of people. I wouldnt be able to pick any familiar faces out of the packed crowd so I turn back. I later learn my wife is to the right with a crowd of people who she has become friendly with while waiting for me.

I get up the hill and turn left. The finish still feels a long way off.

Official Time : 3:10:45

3:10 and change. Pffft. How’d I do that? I immediately push out any negative thoughts of what I could have done on a different day. I got a pretty respectable PR on a day I didn’t think I could even run. A significant improvement from NY no matter how you look at it. I have more left in the tank than I did in NY. When I finished NY last November, I questioned if I would ever be able to do 3:15 again. But this time, I feel stronger and I’m able to quickly go through the crowd. I get my medal. Get a heat blanket. Get some food. I’m nauseous, but I force myself to drink.

I get to the bus and get my bag. I’m fearful of whats to come later so I quickly dig out the Tylenol and take two. My throat is very swollen but doesn’t hurt as much. I call my wife. We meet.

She says I did great, and I reply, “you have no idea.”

Law of Inertia

Ted Corbitt 15K 2010 Race Report

Philadelphia Marathon 2010 Race Report

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