Monday, May 20, 2002
Heart & Sole 5K
This race was my 5K PR attempt on Saturday. It's a flat loop through a suburban neighborhood. It was a very boring place to run compared to most of the races I've done lately. There seemed to be a couple hundred runners there, but there was a 5K and a 10K. I haven't seen the official results posted yet, so what you see here is unofficial. The 5K and the 10K were run simultaneously on the same course. The 10K was just two laps instead of one.
I started close to the front, but not in the first line. Then some little boys crowded in front of me. Oh well, I think the only way to avoid this is to take a position on the line, and while I'm improving, I know I'm not an "elite" runner.
My objective in the first mile was to go under 7 minutes. I was sure I could do that, but I was not sure exactly what the pace should feel like. I went out hard, and I felt like I was doing well, but people were passing me, almost from the first block. After a while, I settled in a little bit, breathing hard but comfortably enough to keep it up, and not so many people were flying by.
I hit the first mile in 6:35.
I tried not to be shocked, and to hold onto that pace. I knew I slowed down some over the next mile, and people continued to pass. I think the ratio of people I passed to people who passed me in this race was about 10 to 1. I only passed about three people the whole time, and many of the people who passed me were running the 10K.
I did the second mile in 7:17, 13:52 for two miles.
I really felt like I picked it up on the third mile, but it turned out to be exactly the pace Doc recommended, 7:40, 21:31 for three miles.
It was quite discouraging to have people passing me on their way to the second lap for the 10K while I was finishing the 5K, but I was done in about 51 more seconds.
total: 22:22
That's my watch time, since I don't have the official time yet.
Well, I got my PR. Like Doc advises, I went out fast and tried to hold on.
This was kind of an odd experience. I did what I wanted to do in the race, but I didn't come away satisfied. It was good to run the first mile well under seven minutes, but it didn't seem like I was achieving that much because I was getting passed continuously. It was good to get a 5K PR, but because of the way the race was set up, it almost felt like I was dropping out early.
I didn't run anything close to consistent splits. I have issues to work out with my blood sugar.
I'm sure I can do better, but I won't try again real soon. The next two 5Ks I do will be dog and owner races, the Dog's Best Friend and the Mutt Strut. I'm going to try to bring my 10K time under 45 before I try to PR again in a 5K.
Based on some old numbers for my previous PR, these were Doc's original recommendations:
> 1st mile 7:15 (know you are ok at this speed)
race split: 6:34
> 2nd mile 7:30 (think positive and maintain)
7:17
> 3rd mile 7:40 (life will be wonderful shortly)
7:40 :-)
> .1 :44 (let the partying begin)
:51 :-(
>
> total 23:09
Then, after some review, he said this:
> Ok, after you run your sub 23's this weekend, why don't we start
> looking at sub 22:30's and work our way down?
Let's work down from 22:22!
Thanks again for your help, Doc. I'll let you know when I'm back in the hunt. I'll do some track work, but aiming for 10Ks for a little while.
Epilogue:
Okay,
My official time was 22:23. I had to correct my PR, darn it.
Then the other details are that I was 25th overall out of 205 runners and walkers in the 5K. Oh, and what's this? I was third in my age group?
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, the Bionic Man, Geronimo "Rucking Fox" Nairn, has won a medal in a race shorter than a half marathon! I take back all of the bad things I felt about this race before, because right now, I'm really thrilled.
I guess I've learned another lesson about racing: Hang around after the race at least until you're sure you're not in the medals. I'm sure it's better to get a medal on the day of the race instead of later in the mail.
I started close to the front, but not in the first line. Then some little boys crowded in front of me. Oh well, I think the only way to avoid this is to take a position on the line, and while I'm improving, I know I'm not an "elite" runner.
My objective in the first mile was to go under 7 minutes. I was sure I could do that, but I was not sure exactly what the pace should feel like. I went out hard, and I felt like I was doing well, but people were passing me, almost from the first block. After a while, I settled in a little bit, breathing hard but comfortably enough to keep it up, and not so many people were flying by.
I hit the first mile in 6:35.
I tried not to be shocked, and to hold onto that pace. I knew I slowed down some over the next mile, and people continued to pass. I think the ratio of people I passed to people who passed me in this race was about 10 to 1. I only passed about three people the whole time, and many of the people who passed me were running the 10K.
I did the second mile in 7:17, 13:52 for two miles.
I really felt like I picked it up on the third mile, but it turned out to be exactly the pace Doc recommended, 7:40, 21:31 for three miles.
It was quite discouraging to have people passing me on their way to the second lap for the 10K while I was finishing the 5K, but I was done in about 51 more seconds.
total: 22:22
That's my watch time, since I don't have the official time yet.
Well, I got my PR. Like Doc advises, I went out fast and tried to hold on.
This was kind of an odd experience. I did what I wanted to do in the race, but I didn't come away satisfied. It was good to run the first mile well under seven minutes, but it didn't seem like I was achieving that much because I was getting passed continuously. It was good to get a 5K PR, but because of the way the race was set up, it almost felt like I was dropping out early.
I didn't run anything close to consistent splits. I have issues to work out with my blood sugar.
I'm sure I can do better, but I won't try again real soon. The next two 5Ks I do will be dog and owner races, the Dog's Best Friend and the Mutt Strut. I'm going to try to bring my 10K time under 45 before I try to PR again in a 5K.
Based on some old numbers for my previous PR, these were Doc's original recommendations:
> 1st mile 7:15 (know you are ok at this speed)
race split: 6:34
> 2nd mile 7:30 (think positive and maintain)
7:17
> 3rd mile 7:40 (life will be wonderful shortly)
7:40 :-)
> .1 :44 (let the partying begin)
:51 :-(
>
> total 23:09
Then, after some review, he said this:
> Ok, after you run your sub 23's this weekend, why don't we start
> looking at sub 22:30's and work our way down?
Let's work down from 22:22!
Thanks again for your help, Doc. I'll let you know when I'm back in the hunt. I'll do some track work, but aiming for 10Ks for a little while.
Epilogue:
Okay,
My official time was 22:23. I had to correct my PR, darn it.
Then the other details are that I was 25th overall out of 205 runners and walkers in the 5K. Oh, and what's this? I was third in my age group?
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, the Bionic Man, Geronimo "Rucking Fox" Nairn, has won a medal in a race shorter than a half marathon! I take back all of the bad things I felt about this race before, because right now, I'm really thrilled.
I guess I've learned another lesson about racing: Hang around after the race at least until you're sure you're not in the medals. I'm sure it's better to get a medal on the day of the race instead of later in the mail.
Tuesday, April 23, 2002
Nicknames
Hi,
I've been going through some changes lately, and I'm thinking about my nickname. Geronimo has served me pretty well. My real name is Jerome, and Geronimo is to Jerome what Juan is to John. They called me Geronimo in my high school Spanish class, and it's the nickname my team mates gave me the first year I ran the Relay from Calistoga to Santa Cruz. When Nevada Nikki used this quote, it just struck me that Geronimo was a good name to use here, too.
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well preserved piece, but to skid broadside, thoroughly used up, worn out, and shouting GERONIMO!"
However, to be truthful, I am not totally reckless. Although I haven't avoided adventure, I'm not really a thrill-seeker, either. That quote doesn't completely match my philosophy of life.
So I've been thinking of other possibilities.
Back when I worked for UMAX helping to make Mac compatible computers, there was a game called "Marathon." Other than the name, this game had nothing to do with the marathon race, except perhaps for the fact that it required hours of concentrated effort to get through it successfully. After hours at UMAX, we had many marathon sessions of playing Marathon with each other over the LAN. Marathon was the first of the fully 3-dimensional computer games which has players enter and move around in a virtual world, much like the real world except that it is frequently necessary to shoot others.
When I began playing, I was less experienced than the other players, so I chose the name "Mrs. Much." It fit me because I did miss much.
Then one day when I decided that my skill level was not so far behind the others, I changed my moniker to "Rucking Fox." That day I ruled the net. Everyone wondered who this "Rucking Fox" was who blasted them to smithereens.
Lately, my training has really started to show some results in my times and the way I feel when I run.
I'm considering changing my nickname to Jerry "Rucking Fox" Nairn. Of course, I can understand if there are any objections. I don't want to offend.
The other possibility comes from another part of my life. I have known for a couple of years that other type 1 diabetics like me were obtaining much better control of their blood sugars using insulin pumps. I tried to get one a couple of years ago, but was told I just wasn't sick enough.
Recently, I have been working with my current healthcare providers (GP, CDE, and endocrinologist) and today I was told that I will be getting a pump, probably within a month! I am really excited about this. It will mean so much to the flexibility of my life and my ability to control my blood sugar and my health.
This pump will work much more like a normal pancreas would. I'm hoping it will make me better, stronger, faster.
So the other nickname I am considering is "The Bionic Man.
I've been going through some changes lately, and I'm thinking about my nickname. Geronimo has served me pretty well. My real name is Jerome, and Geronimo is to Jerome what Juan is to John. They called me Geronimo in my high school Spanish class, and it's the nickname my team mates gave me the first year I ran the Relay from Calistoga to Santa Cruz. When Nevada Nikki used this quote, it just struck me that Geronimo was a good name to use here, too.
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well preserved piece, but to skid broadside, thoroughly used up, worn out, and shouting GERONIMO!"
However, to be truthful, I am not totally reckless. Although I haven't avoided adventure, I'm not really a thrill-seeker, either. That quote doesn't completely match my philosophy of life.
So I've been thinking of other possibilities.
Back when I worked for UMAX helping to make Mac compatible computers, there was a game called "Marathon." Other than the name, this game had nothing to do with the marathon race, except perhaps for the fact that it required hours of concentrated effort to get through it successfully. After hours at UMAX, we had many marathon sessions of playing Marathon with each other over the LAN. Marathon was the first of the fully 3-dimensional computer games which has players enter and move around in a virtual world, much like the real world except that it is frequently necessary to shoot others.
When I began playing, I was less experienced than the other players, so I chose the name "Mrs. Much." It fit me because I did miss much.
Then one day when I decided that my skill level was not so far behind the others, I changed my moniker to "Rucking Fox." That day I ruled the net. Everyone wondered who this "Rucking Fox" was who blasted them to smithereens.
Lately, my training has really started to show some results in my times and the way I feel when I run.
I'm considering changing my nickname to Jerry "Rucking Fox" Nairn. Of course, I can understand if there are any objections. I don't want to offend.
The other possibility comes from another part of my life. I have known for a couple of years that other type 1 diabetics like me were obtaining much better control of their blood sugars using insulin pumps. I tried to get one a couple of years ago, but was told I just wasn't sick enough.
Recently, I have been working with my current healthcare providers (GP, CDE, and endocrinologist) and today I was told that I will be getting a pump, probably within a month! I am really excited about this. It will mean so much to the flexibility of my life and my ability to control my blood sugar and my health.
This pump will work much more like a normal pancreas would. I'm hoping it will make me better, stronger, faster.
So the other nickname I am considering is "The Bionic Man.
Monday, April 1, 2002
Monterey Bay Half Marathon
The Monterey Bay Half Marathon was at the California State University, Monterey Bay, on Saturday. CSUMB is on the grounds of the former Fort Ord, a large military base just repurposed for this four or five years ago. As I warmed up jogging near the start near the stadium, a lot of things reminded me what this place used to be, like the stenciled messages on a lot of these very plain-looking, windowless buildings.
"EXPLOSIVES - NO SMOKING WITHIN 50 FT."
"RADIOACTIVE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY"
The stadium is nice, but not extravagant. It dates to before the place was a university. It doesn't look old or new. A red, rubberized track, showing some wear, and an astroturf field.
Once again, I didn't have the right clothes. Last week, the weather had been cool, and I went to a race wearing a long-sleeved shirt.
Then it turned out to be a very sunny morning.
Saturday, we had had a very warm day Friday. The forecast was for more warm weather. But Fort Ord was foggy all morning.
(It was still foggy when I left, so I don't know if they ever got any sun over there, but it got into the 80s in Hollister both days this weekend.)
My favorite long-sleeved shirts were at home in the laundry, but I had one, too tight and purple, but coolmax, in the bottom of my gym bag. It did the job for me, so I shouldn't complain.
The race was very well managed, water stops every two miles, well-marked with volunteers at every point where someone might possibly make a mistake, and emergency vehicles on the course.
The race is named for the bay, but it really goes out into the hills away from the ocean. I didn't get a glimpse of the bay except from the freeway on my way there and back. From some of the peaks you might have seen the water on a clear day, but as I said it was foggy.
The fog was never really thick, but at points you couldn't see more than fifty yards. It did effectively block out any warming from the sun, though, and the air was always moist and cool.
I started out fast, as Doc recommended. It turned out to be a little too fast, as I ran out of breath. I had to slow a little just to breathe, but when I got to the first mile marker, it turned out I hadn't slowed down too much.
This race is an official tune up for Big Sur, and they use the same mile markers that are used for the Big Sur Marathon, big cello-shaped plywood cutouts. It really is great training for Big Sur, too. The hills are tough.
I'm blathering on here too much again, so I'm going to go through the race really quick:
* Between 7 and 8 I dropped and chased the cap to my glucose tablets, then had a slow water stop while I tried to wash down some glucose. So part of that long mile was a big hill, and part of it was clumsiness.
I have to believe that the mile between 11 and 12 was marked wrong, and that the last part was more than 1.1 miles. I did speed up quite a bit through that 12th mile, though, and the last mile or so was no longer predominantly downhill, just rolling.
As I turned the corner into the stadium parking lot, probably less than half a mile from the finish, there was some poor guy lying on the ground getting oxygen from the EMTs. It must be awful to get so close and not be able to finish.
I had a great day. I ran a 1:46:33. I can't remember any other half marathon times, though I know I did several in my teens and early twenties that were much faster.
But I'm calling this my over 40 PR for this distance, and I'm happy with it. Knowing that my legs weren't really fresh going into this, and this course is rolling hills from beginning to end, with some significant altitude along the way, I have high hopes for Big Sur. I just need to put in a couple of good long runs and I'll do well.
"EXPLOSIVES - NO SMOKING WITHIN 50 FT."
"RADIOACTIVE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY"
The stadium is nice, but not extravagant. It dates to before the place was a university. It doesn't look old or new. A red, rubberized track, showing some wear, and an astroturf field.
Once again, I didn't have the right clothes. Last week, the weather had been cool, and I went to a race wearing a long-sleeved shirt.
Then it turned out to be a very sunny morning.
Saturday, we had had a very warm day Friday. The forecast was for more warm weather. But Fort Ord was foggy all morning.
(It was still foggy when I left, so I don't know if they ever got any sun over there, but it got into the 80s in Hollister both days this weekend.)
My favorite long-sleeved shirts were at home in the laundry, but I had one, too tight and purple, but coolmax, in the bottom of my gym bag. It did the job for me, so I shouldn't complain.
The race was very well managed, water stops every two miles, well-marked with volunteers at every point where someone might possibly make a mistake, and emergency vehicles on the course.
The race is named for the bay, but it really goes out into the hills away from the ocean. I didn't get a glimpse of the bay except from the freeway on my way there and back. From some of the peaks you might have seen the water on a clear day, but as I said it was foggy.
The fog was never really thick, but at points you couldn't see more than fifty yards. It did effectively block out any warming from the sun, though, and the air was always moist and cool.
I started out fast, as Doc recommended. It turned out to be a little too fast, as I ran out of breath. I had to slow a little just to breathe, but when I got to the first mile marker, it turned out I hadn't slowed down too much.
This race is an official tune up for Big Sur, and they use the same mile markers that are used for the Big Sur Marathon, big cello-shaped plywood cutouts. It really is great training for Big Sur, too. The hills are tough.
I'm blathering on here too much again, so I'm going to go through the race really quick:
mile split
---- -----
1. 7:16 (Doc's fast first mile Rx)
2. 7:50
3. 7:27
4. 8:03 (Rolling hills to this point)
5. 8:23 (Hills start to get serious)
6. 8:15
7. 8:05 (A long downhill)
8. 9:29 (Steep uphill and other problem*)
9. 8:27 (Really steep up and down)
10. 7:58 (Starting the downhill trend)
11. 7:54
12. 7:18 (Huh? I sped up but...)
13.1 10:02 (9:07 pace for 1.1 miles)
* Between 7 and 8 I dropped and chased the cap to my glucose tablets, then had a slow water stop while I tried to wash down some glucose. So part of that long mile was a big hill, and part of it was clumsiness.
I have to believe that the mile between 11 and 12 was marked wrong, and that the last part was more than 1.1 miles. I did speed up quite a bit through that 12th mile, though, and the last mile or so was no longer predominantly downhill, just rolling.
As I turned the corner into the stadium parking lot, probably less than half a mile from the finish, there was some poor guy lying on the ground getting oxygen from the EMTs. It must be awful to get so close and not be able to finish.
I had a great day. I ran a 1:46:33. I can't remember any other half marathon times, though I know I did several in my teens and early twenties that were much faster.
But I'm calling this my over 40 PR for this distance, and I'm happy with it. Knowing that my legs weren't really fresh going into this, and this course is rolling hills from beginning to end, with some significant altitude along the way, I have high hopes for Big Sur. I just need to put in a couple of good long runs and I'll do well.
Monday, November 19, 2001
Santa Cruz Turkey Trot
I set a new 5k PR on Saturday, but by only 14 seconds. It was a great morning for a run, a little foggy, but not too cold. No strong wind or extreme weather of any kind.
My wife decided at the last minute that she wanted to go with me, which was nice, but she has anxiety about freeways, so we had to take an alternate route. We got there about fifteen minutes before the start of the 5K, so I had to jog from where we parked, a couple blocks away, to the registration table. There was a crowd of people registering, mainly for the 10K which started later. With 5 minutes to go until the start of the 5K, I got to step out of line and get a number so I could jog over to the start, toss my sweats by the side of the road, and start from the back of the pack.
There weren't many runners, fewer than 200, so I crossed the start line in a few seconds, and wasn't really packed in. The course is on a street by Natural Bridges State Beach, down to a paved trail that runs along next to West Cliff Drive, then back the same way. As the name implies, this trail is along a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It's a beautiful place to run or walk. The trail goes up and down slightly, but there's nothing you could really call a hill. I passed the 1 mile mark as the volunter was calling out 7:12. My watch said 7:05.
Then there were no more reliable mile splits. I hit the turn around point, halfway, at 11:30. I hit the 2 mile mark at 12:50, which was not right, and I never saw a 3 mile mark.
I was running with mostly the same people the whole race. I passed and got passed by the same guy several times. I passed him as we reached the 1 mile mark again. With about half a mile left, a little girl caught up with me from behind. She was running with two men, her father and a friend. They kept telling her what a great job she was doing, and I had to agree. They told a spectator that she was nine years old.
They got a few steps ahead of me. I decided to just try and keep a steady pace. I didn't want to pour it on and look like I was desperate to beat a nine year old girl.
Then I started to get passed by the guy who had been with me most of the race. With a few yards left to the finish, I found I still had some kick, but we were gaining on the little girl. I could see the time, and I knew I was going to get my PR. I thought I'd rather finish as far away from the nine year old as I could, so I just cruised in.
I was 53rd out of about 170 runners, 10th out of 17 in my division.
It turns out the guy who beat me at the end was also in my division, not that it matters since we were both well out of the ribbons.
So I was pretty pleased with my run. I don't know how to feel about getting my butt kicked by a little girl, though. I hope she had fun doing it. She is phenomenal.
I considered doing a double, but when they were announcing that the 10K would start in 5 minutes as I was coming out of the chute from the 5K, I decided I could do a training run at home if I still felt like it later. I really didn't have another race in me.
Even though I got a PR, I feel like the message I got from this race was, "Back to the drawing board."
My wife decided at the last minute that she wanted to go with me, which was nice, but she has anxiety about freeways, so we had to take an alternate route. We got there about fifteen minutes before the start of the 5K, so I had to jog from where we parked, a couple blocks away, to the registration table. There was a crowd of people registering, mainly for the 10K which started later. With 5 minutes to go until the start of the 5K, I got to step out of line and get a number so I could jog over to the start, toss my sweats by the side of the road, and start from the back of the pack.
There weren't many runners, fewer than 200, so I crossed the start line in a few seconds, and wasn't really packed in. The course is on a street by Natural Bridges State Beach, down to a paved trail that runs along next to West Cliff Drive, then back the same way. As the name implies, this trail is along a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It's a beautiful place to run or walk. The trail goes up and down slightly, but there's nothing you could really call a hill. I passed the 1 mile mark as the volunter was calling out 7:12. My watch said 7:05.
Then there were no more reliable mile splits. I hit the turn around point, halfway, at 11:30. I hit the 2 mile mark at 12:50, which was not right, and I never saw a 3 mile mark.
I was running with mostly the same people the whole race. I passed and got passed by the same guy several times. I passed him as we reached the 1 mile mark again. With about half a mile left, a little girl caught up with me from behind. She was running with two men, her father and a friend. They kept telling her what a great job she was doing, and I had to agree. They told a spectator that she was nine years old.
They got a few steps ahead of me. I decided to just try and keep a steady pace. I didn't want to pour it on and look like I was desperate to beat a nine year old girl.
Then I started to get passed by the guy who had been with me most of the race. With a few yards left to the finish, I found I still had some kick, but we were gaining on the little girl. I could see the time, and I knew I was going to get my PR. I thought I'd rather finish as far away from the nine year old as I could, so I just cruised in.
I was 53rd out of about 170 runners, 10th out of 17 in my division.
It turns out the guy who beat me at the end was also in my division, not that it matters since we were both well out of the ribbons.
So I was pretty pleased with my run. I don't know how to feel about getting my butt kicked by a little girl, though. I hope she had fun doing it. She is phenomenal.
I considered doing a double, but when they were announcing that the 10K would start in 5 minutes as I was coming out of the chute from the 5K, I decided I could do a training run at home if I still felt like it later. I really didn't have another race in me.
Even though I got a PR, I feel like the message I got from this race was, "Back to the drawing board."
Monday, October 29, 2001
Silicon Valley Marathon 2001
Sunday was a perfect day for a marathon in San Jose. The prediction had been for a big rain storm to come in some time Sunday, but it just stayed overcast enough to keep it cool for the whole morning. It was never too cold, either. I didn't feel the need to wear any more layers than a t-shirt and shorts at the start.
The places for different paces to line up were well marked behind the starting line. I started to line up toward the back of the pack, but the signs were spread out, and there was a lot of open space. So the announcer started to encourage everyone to move up, closer to the start. I ended up close to the middle.
When the race started, I was pretty well packed in, but no one was concerned because of the chip timing. We just walked slowly forward as a group. Someone said that there were three thousand registered for the marathon, but that doesn't seem right. It seemed like there were fewer runners than last year, and there are only results listed for about 1500 on the web site.
Then we got to the start line and as soon as people's feet hit those pads, they started trying to run. I spent a while trying to get to a place in the pack where I could go at a comfortable pace, but there were people dropping back from the front, going slow, and people sprinting up from the back.
I wasn't sure what my pace was like. I felt comfortable with my breathing and it didn't seem too fast. I didn't see the first mile marker. They are really hard to miss, because there's a big, white, helium filled balloon with the marathon logo tied to each one, and there's almost always a water station nearby. But I was on the left side of the road, the marker and the water must have been on the right.
I didn't even notice until I heard the sound of paper cups hitting the ground. I looked to the right and there were cups all over. I looked at my watch and it said 00:08:03. I never did see that water station or mile marker. I still wasn't sure we had passed the marker until I heard some other runners talking about it.
Ooops, Going out too fast again. What do you do when you go out too fast? Do you crank your speed back to where it should have been, or do you go even slower, because you know you put too much into the start? I tried, really, to slow down to my goal pace of 8:35/mi, but I was still cruising along at an 8 minute pace. I stayed pretty close to that through the first 9 miles, then I started to hit the miles at the 8:35 pace. I took a portajohn break, and came out only one minute behind what had been my target pace when I hit mile 10.
By the half, I was a little over my target pace, but I knew I was dropping fast. I was still thinking about 3:45 until mile 15, when I started to think about maybe coming in under 4 hours.
I hit 19 miles in about 3 hours even, which would have been okay, if I had anything left for the finish. Mental toughness might have gotten my a better time, but I had a couple of things working against me for the last three quarters of the race.
First, I had this negative internal dialog going on. I kept saying to myself, "Well, this is par for the course. You didn't put in enough mileage, you went out too fast, and you didn't pace yourself well." The other thing working against me was that all those things I was telling myself were true.
I did the last three miles jogging and walking. In miles 20 to 23, I could do stretches of a hundred yards or so at a pretty strong pace by making a conscious effort to switch from using my choppy, shuffling, "this is killing me" stride, to lifting my knees, pushing off hard, going through the full running motion. But after a while I would fall back into the shuffle. And after a while, I couldn't even bring myself to make the effort.
Still, I finished, and I was proud of myself for making it. I was glad to get my medal. I was smiling quite a bit. I'm sore as heck today, but I'm not depressed about it.
The Tech Museum is on the street between the marathon finish and the food tents in Cesar Chavez Park. The museum has inspirational quotes from Silicon Valley tycoons engraved in some of the outside walls. As I was passing it yesterday, I saw this quote from Gordon Moore, cofounder of Intel, "If everything you try works, then you are not trying hard enough."
I need to think about how much I want to invest in marathon running.
I think it would do me good to run more short races for a while. On the other hand, the California International Marathon is December 2, which is just about enough time to recover from this one and taper for that one.
:-)
SPLIT TIME PLACE
10k: 0:50:30
Half Marathon: 1:54:19
19.2 Miles: 3:00:30
FINISH: 4:34:29 967
Division Place: M 40-44 144
The places for different paces to line up were well marked behind the starting line. I started to line up toward the back of the pack, but the signs were spread out, and there was a lot of open space. So the announcer started to encourage everyone to move up, closer to the start. I ended up close to the middle.
When the race started, I was pretty well packed in, but no one was concerned because of the chip timing. We just walked slowly forward as a group. Someone said that there were three thousand registered for the marathon, but that doesn't seem right. It seemed like there were fewer runners than last year, and there are only results listed for about 1500 on the web site.
Then we got to the start line and as soon as people's feet hit those pads, they started trying to run. I spent a while trying to get to a place in the pack where I could go at a comfortable pace, but there were people dropping back from the front, going slow, and people sprinting up from the back.
I wasn't sure what my pace was like. I felt comfortable with my breathing and it didn't seem too fast. I didn't see the first mile marker. They are really hard to miss, because there's a big, white, helium filled balloon with the marathon logo tied to each one, and there's almost always a water station nearby. But I was on the left side of the road, the marker and the water must have been on the right.
I didn't even notice until I heard the sound of paper cups hitting the ground. I looked to the right and there were cups all over. I looked at my watch and it said 00:08:03. I never did see that water station or mile marker. I still wasn't sure we had passed the marker until I heard some other runners talking about it.
Ooops, Going out too fast again. What do you do when you go out too fast? Do you crank your speed back to where it should have been, or do you go even slower, because you know you put too much into the start? I tried, really, to slow down to my goal pace of 8:35/mi, but I was still cruising along at an 8 minute pace. I stayed pretty close to that through the first 9 miles, then I started to hit the miles at the 8:35 pace. I took a portajohn break, and came out only one minute behind what had been my target pace when I hit mile 10.
By the half, I was a little over my target pace, but I knew I was dropping fast. I was still thinking about 3:45 until mile 15, when I started to think about maybe coming in under 4 hours.
I hit 19 miles in about 3 hours even, which would have been okay, if I had anything left for the finish. Mental toughness might have gotten my a better time, but I had a couple of things working against me for the last three quarters of the race.
First, I had this negative internal dialog going on. I kept saying to myself, "Well, this is par for the course. You didn't put in enough mileage, you went out too fast, and you didn't pace yourself well." The other thing working against me was that all those things I was telling myself were true.
I did the last three miles jogging and walking. In miles 20 to 23, I could do stretches of a hundred yards or so at a pretty strong pace by making a conscious effort to switch from using my choppy, shuffling, "this is killing me" stride, to lifting my knees, pushing off hard, going through the full running motion. But after a while I would fall back into the shuffle. And after a while, I couldn't even bring myself to make the effort.
Still, I finished, and I was proud of myself for making it. I was glad to get my medal. I was smiling quite a bit. I'm sore as heck today, but I'm not depressed about it.
The Tech Museum is on the street between the marathon finish and the food tents in Cesar Chavez Park. The museum has inspirational quotes from Silicon Valley tycoons engraved in some of the outside walls. As I was passing it yesterday, I saw this quote from Gordon Moore, cofounder of Intel, "If everything you try works, then you are not trying hard enough."
I need to think about how much I want to invest in marathon running.
I think it would do me good to run more short races for a while. On the other hand, the California International Marathon is December 2, which is just about enough time to recover from this one and taper for that one.
:-)
SPLIT TIME PLACE
10k: 0:50:30
Half Marathon: 1:54:19
19.2 Miles: 3:00:30
FINISH: 4:34:29 967
Division Place: M 40-44 144
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