So I'd dumped my bottle, which was dry. I'd taken two Clif Shots, and i'd rounded the cone. I started chasing immediately. I was far back, too far back. I was in the high teens, I wanted to be top ten.
At thirteen miles, with the backs of three men right in my sights, I was at 1:31:34. That left me over 3:05 for the marathon, which wasn't cooing to work. My suspect Achilles tendons and hamstrings, sore for the last year since I hurt the right one on a training trip, all felt good. I opened it up and caught the three of them on the way to the fairgrounds. Next was a younger guy, in white, backwards cap on his head, who i'd seen was struggling as far back as the first turn around at the out and back. I went by him and quickly dropped him and set my sights on the next guy.
This was one of the great running race moments I have ever had. From mile 12.5, I simply turned up my effort a notch and the people in front of me dropped back, and they had no answer. Granted, there was still a guy twenty minutes ahead of me, running the kind of time I was once capable of. But I looked down the guys in front of me, I saw my family out there cheering me on, and I responded. When I got in the fairgrounds I was running hard. I passed one guy at t his point- I think it was here- who would not fall off the pace though. This was important, but not yet.
Popping back out of the trail grounds you almost immediately hit the downhill. I think a lot of runners miscalculate the downhill a bit- it's a serious downhill. You have to attack it, but you can't open up too much. You are pushing 15 miles and if you tear down the hill you will tear up your quads. So you really focus on form, and let a long but reasonable stride carry you down the hill.
You break around the corner and you are on the out and back again and there are a lot of half-marathoners going the other way, and spectators. The ski jump was out of sight at my back, and now I had a shadow, a runner in back pacing me, not like the first half of the race but different. He's using me...
And oh, you're lapping peole. Yes, they are probably walking but you've run 10 more miles than them. The people on the other side of the road are also quite a few miles behind. I reach across the middle of the road and sap hands with Darren McGeary's brother Dean, he yells 'Al' and then it's back to chasing the guys in front of me. From across the road a woman yells to me to drop my arms.
I am probably carrying them high. I know. Still, I have run 8 miles farther in the same amount of time as this woman has, and low so she can't hear me but definitely out load I say 'Bite me.' I am a completive person....
We passed another runner here, a marathoner, and now it was we. Not I. I was a two-car train, reeling people in...
Not what I wanted. I wanted to be working alone, but I wasn't, and there's nothing you can do in that situation but try to run your own race and is there a time it's ever harder than when someone else is working directly off your pace ? Not really. I mean, dictating the pace is easier in some ways to trying to follow someone, but like in a bike race, you would prefer to share the work and the guy behind me was not showing any interest in sharing the work. He was letting me do it all, breaking what little wind there was, giving him the opportunity to sit in behind me.
We head out on the out and back and I was in a really good rhythm. I picked off a couple more runners, and then went by the 'traditional' out and back.
That's right. Part of avoiding having you climb all the way back into town (why ?) is that the second out and back is rather severe out. The out on this route is always longer than you think. I was tracking four guys in front of me, which seemed like two guys too many. We ran and ran and ran. I know the entire length of the road, having ridden and run it all the way out to where it dumps you onto 86.
The turn around cone for the second back was within sight of 86, and the extra two guys I didn't think should be there ? They ran to the cones and kept going, then raised there arms and starting talking to the people camped out at the turn. Grrr....
Yeah, I was less than thrilled, having chased them down for no reason. But I went around the cone and set my sights on the next guy in front of me. The 19.0 mile mark was before the turn, and the 20 mile mark after. I went through that 20 mile mark and I felt really good. I have always been aware of that mark, and although I don't put any stock that there is anything special in 20 miles, I have struggled at that point.
I passed the mark and nothing changed. I was still running faster than the people in front of me, I wasn't struggling, my plan of a cliff shot every 40 minutes was working well, my stomach was good, my legs were holding up.
I was passing people now- occasionally, that were running pretty well, just not as well. I think my next pass came at about 21 miles, then there was more climbing, then I made one more pass on the back. There were still half marathoners all over the road, and on the other side plenty of marathoners headed out. That was the thing that changed after we hit the turn around, and I'll comment on that out of order. As I saw the people I had already passed, I was surprised by how much time I had put on them- no one was catching me.
No one but my shadow, that is.
I decided to attack on the hill back into town, figuring I would have 2 miles to either recover from a failed attempt or hold him off if I did get a gap.
Simply put, it didn't work. I attacked going up the hill, crested first, found myself very slowly gaining ground on the first woman, who was clearly losing time, and then I was passed. There was almost two miles left I think, when he made the pass and although we both started to close down the woman in front of us, he actually passed her, while I just kept getting very slowly and unsatisfyingly closer. We went through the turn-around from the first loop and then up the road you come down on at the start of the ironman bike. Although I was closing on her I was losing ground on my former shadow and I was spent.
I climbed the hill and headed for the speed skating oval and it seemed like maybe I had one more catch in me, but in the end I didn't. I ran as hard as could around the oval, the nearest guy behind me three minutes and change back, but the woman in front of me maybe 20 seconds in front.
I came around the oval, just like the ironman, and I felt pretty good. I was not blown up, I'd run a smart race, and while I was unhappy two people close in front of me were not held off or reeled in, as I crossed the line in 3:02:30ish I knew I'd run the second half of the race with about a 3 minute negative split, and that was something to build on.
I decided then and there I want to go back and do it again next year....
But what did I learn ?
Showing posts with label lake placid marathon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lake placid marathon. Show all posts
Monday, July 04, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Lake Placid Marathon, Part I
Let me start by saying that I have never been so relaxed at a starting line in Lake Placid.
That's probably because for the first time in my life I was actually standing at the starting line on pavement, as opposed to say, trying very hard to tread water in Mirror Lake.
This was huge really. I was at the starting line, for a marathon, and I wasn't nervous. It's kind of ironic. Despite my questionable swimming skills I usually get in the front at Ironman, so you could say I have about the same 2000 people at my back in that race as I did at the marathon and half-marathon. The difference is in a road race I can get off the line in a manner that encourages rather than inhibits self-preservation.
That's right. You basically can't hold a marathon outside of Boston or New York that isn't also a half marathon, and three-quarters of 2000 runners were in fact wearing the blue numbers of the half versus our bronze numbers. It's the same start and for most of the first loop we all run together. This presents a real challenge. After all, running a marathon and a half-marathon are totally different endeavors. I was doing my warm-ups and evaluating the top end of the half-marathon guys and it was pretty clear- there were some fast guys, college kids and whatnot, and that was going to make for a fast start on Main Street.
Not just a fast start either. A fast uphill start. Starting basically in front of the top end of the oval, it's a sharp uphill to start out and then a more gradual uphill through town and around to the top of the lake. If you look at the road around Mirror Lake the top of the lake is higher than the bottom, at least the road around it is. If you are doing IMLP, remember that the out on the second out and back at Mirror Lake is uphill going out and downhill coming back.
So it was going to be a quick start, and I didn't want to get sucked up in that. As a potential top ten marathon finisher, I thought I should start right on the line, and I did, but I didn't want to get drawn into the melee.
Overall, I did pretty well. I'd lined up my start up the hill and into town and of course, started running too fast.
I've always consoled myself with too-fast starts at every marathon by telling myself that I could either get the time earlier or later and might as well do it early, or that I could overclock the first mile and then still settle in and be fine. Only I know that isn't true. If the first mile is too aggressive it can throw off the pacing for the entire race. While it's true you should be able to run the first mile pretty much as you like and still recover a normal pace, that requires even more discipline than simply running a solid but unspectacular first mile. And the later option has fewer risks.
At about 3/4 of a mile I saw Darren McGeary, one of my closest friends from high school, on the right side of the road, up past the end of Main Street. I heard him yell my name and kept going.
I hit the mile mark at 6:34, for an uphill mile 1. Now, the worst part of this is that Mile 2 is a downhill. I could have run 6:34 easy on the second mile, but instead I had to back it off on the downhill mile to get back closer to seven minute miles- running hard uphill then easy downhill. Classic bad move. But still, I was able to use that downhill mile to get the race under control. I found myself chatting with one of the half-marathons about how he was carrying his arms too high (more on that later) and trying to run our own races.
This was definitely an issue by this point. Most of the athletes were either wearing race belts- more of us than the typical race, or they had their numbers pinned to the side of their shorts despite repeated instructions that numbers MUST BE WORN ON THE FRONT. (Have I mention how much I loathe the D-Tag and the 'wear on front' BS that comes with it ?) So people were going by me and I was struggling to evaluate half-marathon or marathon. Why ?
That's actually a good question and not one I can answer without admitting that no matter how hard I try to be a good athlete, a smart athlete, I am competitive. I shouldn't have been evaluating people at all, but I was, and yes, it's easy to fight the urge to let someone go when they are running the half. BUt not when they are running the whole marathon. Such as the woman that went by me between 2 and 3. I did check her out and instinct told me, as she put a major hurt on my pace, that she was going too fast. Of course I wanted to believe that....
We plowed out of town and I did a remarkably good job of keeping my desire to haul some ass down the big hill. That hill is a quad-ripper going down and there's no point that early in the race putting a hurt on your legs that you can't recover from.
Then we were on our way out of town, a lot of us, and I knew there were about fifteen marathoners in front of me, mixed in with dozens of half-marathoners. Someone settled in next to me, and despite my dislike of talking while racing, started talking. We started off with how his number was on the side of his pants, where I couldn't see it. He was a full-marathon runner, and he was from the Coast Guard Academy, just graduating. He asked me what I was planning to run as we went down the bottom of the hill and out onto the first out and back- the ironman out and back, and I said under three hours. But somehow, I'd slipped to a point that by around 6 miles, I was running a solid 7:02 pace. This made no sense, but that was that. He was looking to run 3:10. I was about 4 minutes over my pace. He was like 6 minutes under his.
It's a lot of pressure running with someone else in a marathon. You really want to do your own thing and you really, really don't want to talk. But you do. The kid- I mean at just over half my age, I think I am required to call him a kid- was nice. We joked about how when there are trees growing in your fields, you haven't planted crops in a while. I took water at the aid stations, but then just dumped it over my head. I was carrying my own bottle and it would last me through more than 12 miles.
I tried to encourage this guy to run his own pace, but he said he was going to do what he could while he could, which to me is not a great strategy, but hey, I have tried it more than once.
On the first loop the out and back ended at the same place, or about the same place, as the ironman. I had warned the guy I was running with that the 'flat' out and back wasn't. I've heard a lot of people suggest this section is flat, and well, if you take it as a whole, it's not far from flat. However, except for maybe the first mile, it's mostly rollers, and several of the hills are significant as far as what happens to your heart rate when you climb them.
There were a lot of people in front of us, and I wanted to close enough to the out and back to start counting the marathoners. I was steeling myself- at a plus 7-minute pace, it was going to be a lot.
That damn turn-around is always just a little farther than you think it's going to be. I counted more than a dozen guys and one woman in front of us, and the woman was at least 4 minutes ahead of me. That plus the pace I was running gave me pause, but I wasn't worried. I was drinking my electrolyte fizz, and taking a cliff shot every 40 minutes.
Some of the half-marathon people started coming back to me on the back of the out and back. This was a part of the course I was determined to stay disciplined on. There are a couple of short but decent hills and I was absolutely not willing to push. I was drinking regularly for the bottle of Electrolyte Fizz I carried on the first loop- I highly recommend trying some, and taking a gel every 40 minutes, which to this point meant taking one.
I still was running with the other guy from CT and he was holding up well, but I knew the hill back into town was coming. I hit the ten mile mark at over 70 minutes. I didn't panic- not yet, but on the other hand, I had a lot of work to do.
We turned back onto River Road and as soon as you turn, you are on the massive hill that so defines the run in the Ironman. That hill breaks people, that hill coaches tell their athletes to walk up. I attacked it, not hard, but steady, keeping my pace close to what it had been. The guy who had been running with me disappeared off my back. I would see him going the other way after turn-arounds but that was it.
I crested the hill and I felt pretty good, but I was behind and I knew I needed to be steady for a while longer but start taking some risks soon. I was quiet a ways back.
By 12 miles, the leading marathoners including the first woman was on her way back out, half a mile ahead of me in her case (and more for the top three men). I drained my bottle, reached the turn-around, and in about 15th place, tossed the empty bottle on the ground at Margit's feet. I waved to her and Ian as best I could, but as I rounded the cone i was looking at the people in front of me, and I wanted to start catching them.
Which I did....
That's probably because for the first time in my life I was actually standing at the starting line on pavement, as opposed to say, trying very hard to tread water in Mirror Lake.
This was huge really. I was at the starting line, for a marathon, and I wasn't nervous. It's kind of ironic. Despite my questionable swimming skills I usually get in the front at Ironman, so you could say I have about the same 2000 people at my back in that race as I did at the marathon and half-marathon. The difference is in a road race I can get off the line in a manner that encourages rather than inhibits self-preservation.
That's right. You basically can't hold a marathon outside of Boston or New York that isn't also a half marathon, and three-quarters of 2000 runners were in fact wearing the blue numbers of the half versus our bronze numbers. It's the same start and for most of the first loop we all run together. This presents a real challenge. After all, running a marathon and a half-marathon are totally different endeavors. I was doing my warm-ups and evaluating the top end of the half-marathon guys and it was pretty clear- there were some fast guys, college kids and whatnot, and that was going to make for a fast start on Main Street.
Not just a fast start either. A fast uphill start. Starting basically in front of the top end of the oval, it's a sharp uphill to start out and then a more gradual uphill through town and around to the top of the lake. If you look at the road around Mirror Lake the top of the lake is higher than the bottom, at least the road around it is. If you are doing IMLP, remember that the out on the second out and back at Mirror Lake is uphill going out and downhill coming back.
So it was going to be a quick start, and I didn't want to get sucked up in that. As a potential top ten marathon finisher, I thought I should start right on the line, and I did, but I didn't want to get drawn into the melee.
Overall, I did pretty well. I'd lined up my start up the hill and into town and of course, started running too fast.
I've always consoled myself with too-fast starts at every marathon by telling myself that I could either get the time earlier or later and might as well do it early, or that I could overclock the first mile and then still settle in and be fine. Only I know that isn't true. If the first mile is too aggressive it can throw off the pacing for the entire race. While it's true you should be able to run the first mile pretty much as you like and still recover a normal pace, that requires even more discipline than simply running a solid but unspectacular first mile. And the later option has fewer risks.
At about 3/4 of a mile I saw Darren McGeary, one of my closest friends from high school, on the right side of the road, up past the end of Main Street. I heard him yell my name and kept going.
I hit the mile mark at 6:34, for an uphill mile 1. Now, the worst part of this is that Mile 2 is a downhill. I could have run 6:34 easy on the second mile, but instead I had to back it off on the downhill mile to get back closer to seven minute miles- running hard uphill then easy downhill. Classic bad move. But still, I was able to use that downhill mile to get the race under control. I found myself chatting with one of the half-marathons about how he was carrying his arms too high (more on that later) and trying to run our own races.
This was definitely an issue by this point. Most of the athletes were either wearing race belts- more of us than the typical race, or they had their numbers pinned to the side of their shorts despite repeated instructions that numbers MUST BE WORN ON THE FRONT. (Have I mention how much I loathe the D-Tag and the 'wear on front' BS that comes with it ?) So people were going by me and I was struggling to evaluate half-marathon or marathon. Why ?
That's actually a good question and not one I can answer without admitting that no matter how hard I try to be a good athlete, a smart athlete, I am competitive. I shouldn't have been evaluating people at all, but I was, and yes, it's easy to fight the urge to let someone go when they are running the half. BUt not when they are running the whole marathon. Such as the woman that went by me between 2 and 3. I did check her out and instinct told me, as she put a major hurt on my pace, that she was going too fast. Of course I wanted to believe that....
We plowed out of town and I did a remarkably good job of keeping my desire to haul some ass down the big hill. That hill is a quad-ripper going down and there's no point that early in the race putting a hurt on your legs that you can't recover from.
Then we were on our way out of town, a lot of us, and I knew there were about fifteen marathoners in front of me, mixed in with dozens of half-marathoners. Someone settled in next to me, and despite my dislike of talking while racing, started talking. We started off with how his number was on the side of his pants, where I couldn't see it. He was a full-marathon runner, and he was from the Coast Guard Academy, just graduating. He asked me what I was planning to run as we went down the bottom of the hill and out onto the first out and back- the ironman out and back, and I said under three hours. But somehow, I'd slipped to a point that by around 6 miles, I was running a solid 7:02 pace. This made no sense, but that was that. He was looking to run 3:10. I was about 4 minutes over my pace. He was like 6 minutes under his.
It's a lot of pressure running with someone else in a marathon. You really want to do your own thing and you really, really don't want to talk. But you do. The kid- I mean at just over half my age, I think I am required to call him a kid- was nice. We joked about how when there are trees growing in your fields, you haven't planted crops in a while. I took water at the aid stations, but then just dumped it over my head. I was carrying my own bottle and it would last me through more than 12 miles.
I tried to encourage this guy to run his own pace, but he said he was going to do what he could while he could, which to me is not a great strategy, but hey, I have tried it more than once.
On the first loop the out and back ended at the same place, or about the same place, as the ironman. I had warned the guy I was running with that the 'flat' out and back wasn't. I've heard a lot of people suggest this section is flat, and well, if you take it as a whole, it's not far from flat. However, except for maybe the first mile, it's mostly rollers, and several of the hills are significant as far as what happens to your heart rate when you climb them.
There were a lot of people in front of us, and I wanted to close enough to the out and back to start counting the marathoners. I was steeling myself- at a plus 7-minute pace, it was going to be a lot.
That damn turn-around is always just a little farther than you think it's going to be. I counted more than a dozen guys and one woman in front of us, and the woman was at least 4 minutes ahead of me. That plus the pace I was running gave me pause, but I wasn't worried. I was drinking my electrolyte fizz, and taking a cliff shot every 40 minutes.
Some of the half-marathon people started coming back to me on the back of the out and back. This was a part of the course I was determined to stay disciplined on. There are a couple of short but decent hills and I was absolutely not willing to push. I was drinking regularly for the bottle of Electrolyte Fizz I carried on the first loop- I highly recommend trying some, and taking a gel every 40 minutes, which to this point meant taking one.
I still was running with the other guy from CT and he was holding up well, but I knew the hill back into town was coming. I hit the ten mile mark at over 70 minutes. I didn't panic- not yet, but on the other hand, I had a lot of work to do.
We turned back onto River Road and as soon as you turn, you are on the massive hill that so defines the run in the Ironman. That hill breaks people, that hill coaches tell their athletes to walk up. I attacked it, not hard, but steady, keeping my pace close to what it had been. The guy who had been running with me disappeared off my back. I would see him going the other way after turn-arounds but that was it.
I crested the hill and I felt pretty good, but I was behind and I knew I needed to be steady for a while longer but start taking some risks soon. I was quiet a ways back.
By 12 miles, the leading marathoners including the first woman was on her way back out, half a mile ahead of me in her case (and more for the top three men). I drained my bottle, reached the turn-around, and in about 15th place, tossed the empty bottle on the ground at Margit's feet. I waved to her and Ian as best I could, but as I rounded the cone i was looking at the people in front of me, and I wanted to start catching them.
Which I did....
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