4.23.07 Wenatchee Marathon Recap

The Challenge

I got the idea in my head that I might actually be able to qualify for the Boston Marathon after finishing my second marathon in Portland in 2003 in a time of 3:30 (about 42 minutes off my first marathon time from two years earlier). I made an attempt in 2004 on the same course, but failed with a time of 3:18. I struggled with injuries during 2005 but attempted again to run the 3:15 qualifying time on the Leavenworth course but again failed, this time finishing in 3:24. I trained hard in the spring of 2006 and felt I was well prepared to conquer the qualifying time at the Seafair marathon in July when injury struck and I had to miss the event. I struggled with injury the rest of the season and was not able to attempt the time goal during 2006. So, for more than 3 years, the Boston qualifying time has haunted my runs.

Focused Training

I decided in October of 2006 that I was going to reduce my mileage, start from scratch, and focus 6 months of training on the goal of finishing the 2007 Wenatchee marathon in under 3:15. There are a lot of challenges to training through the winter in Wenatchee - ice, snow, cold and darkness being a few of the most obvious. There are also a lot of advantages - no lawn to mow or flowerbeds to weed for a start. With fewer distractions, I was able to focus more of my time on running and I ran every day from October 1 2006 until April 22 (marathon day) 2007 with the goal of running a sub 3:15. Every day, rain or shine, I headed out the door with this thought on my mind. This is a long time to focus on one thing. After a certain amount of time it surpasses focus and becomes obsession.

The Monster

In the final weeks and days leading up to the event, I realized how great this monster I created had become. So many days with this goal on my mind… the thought of failing became almost overwhelming. I got stressed out, my immune system bombed and I caught a cold two days before race day. I’m disappointed in myself for allowing this to become a source of stress. It was ridiculous and I need to find a new focus for racing, or I’m not going to do it anymore. It’s not worth what I put myself through in the days leading up to the event.

Race Day Plan

In good form, I had three time goals for race day. The first was to run a 3:15 to qualify for Boston. I felt like this was a very achievable goal after the months of training that I had put in. The second goal, which I felt was achievable but would require a hard effort and an undetermined amount of time in the “Pain Cave”, was 3:05. The third, the perfect day - tailwind in both directions time - was sub 3:00. I still think this is within my realm of possibility, but I know now that I’m not there yet. When I got up on race morning I didn’t feel good. I hadn’t slept well in a few days, I had a sore throat and sniffly nose and I was feeling really stressed. My resting heartrate was 10 or more bpm faster than normal and I knew that sub 3:00 wasn’t going to happen that day. I felt like 3:05 was still doable and I was going to reserve the right to slow to the 3:15 pace if necessary. I knew from my training that the maximum heartrate that I could hope to maintain through this distance was 166 (and, to be honest, this was probably pushing it). So, as I left the house on race morning, my goal was to keep my heart rate below 166 and try for 7 minute miles for the event.

Adrenaline

Something happened when I got to the starting line. I got caught up in the hype and I forgot my plan. There were three events on race day and the 10k and marathon shared the starting gun and the first 10k of the course. So, at the gun the 10k runners were off like blazes and in the whirlwind of race adrenaline, I was right in the midst of them. The first time I looked at my watch I was doing a 6:00/mile pace. I immediately slowed, but when I got to 6:40 I felt like I was standing still and couldn’t possibly slow to the 7 minute goal pace. My heartrate was crazy high after the first couple of miles (174). I don’t know why really. I’ve done lots of 10-14 mile runs at 6:40 with avg heartrate of 166 so I don’t know if it was the cold or nerves but I did know that it wasn’t sustainable. But, I pushed on - I abandoned my race plan, ignored the warning signs of my elevated heartrate and went out too fast.

Fueling

My fueling was actually pretty good before and during the race. I got up at 4:30 to eat a banana, pb&j sandwich, 16 oz water, and 16 oz gatorade. I waited until 2 hrs before race time and then had a cup of coffee. I sipped water until the 8:00 am start and then drank at every aid station except one that I chose to skip because I could hear water sloshing in my stomach and was afraid that I might push myself to a side-ache. I drank only water and ate a package of hammer gel at mile 10, 16, and 21. Thinking back, I wish I would have taken in some of the gu sports drink that they were offering because I think it might have helped with the cramping in my quadriceps that I experienced from mile 17 on. But, I had never tried, or even heard of, gu sports drink so I was afraid to deviate from what I knew wouldn’t make me sick and stuck with plain water. I’ve always walked through the aid stations but this time drank at each station without breaking stride. And, though I spilled at least half of every cup, I managed to drink without choking myself and got enough water down that I finished without feeling overly dehydrated.

The Finish

I finished mile 16 at a strong 6:45 /mile average pace and actually felt pretty good. I knew that I would drop a bit between 17 and 20 because of hills on the course and a headwind, but I slowed more than anticipated and at mile 20 I knew that I was in for a battle. One quad started to cramp at about mile 17. I figured it was normal and I could deal with it. The other one went at mile 20 and things started to slide. I had to shorten my stride to compensate for the pain in my quads, which immediately slowed my pace. The headwind and rising temperature only added to the torment. At mile 23 I had slowed to a 7:30 pace and I knew that the last three miles were going to be purely mental because my legs were completely gone. I never stopped running - it never even occurred to me as a possibility. I thought only about putting one foot closer to the finish line and then the other foot closer to the finish line and then, finally, one foot crossed the finish line: 3:05:12. The race director, who is also a friend, was the first face I saw as I crossed the finish line. He looked at the clock and then looked back at me “Holy shit, how did you run a 3:05!?”
One step at a time…