To your relief, I will not be analyzing yesterday's race mile-by-mile (the way I have done in the past), as I remember yesterday's marathon more in chunks than bite-sized pieces: ten miles, then three miles, then six miles, then seven miles.
My original plan was to run with the 4:15 pace group, but I was quickly convinced to go out with the 4:00 pace group instead. I lined up with Rusty, Amanda, and Bill. I don’t remember much about the start except that the confetti and fireworks were pretty cool. It took us two minutes to make it to the Starting line, and once we did, we were well behind the 4:00 balloons due to the dense crowd. Bill was gone immediately, and for the first few miles, Amanda, Rusty and I weaved through the crowd, keeping an eye on the yellow balloons ahead.
I'm not sure exactly where I caught up with the four-hour pace group--it was just past Utica on one of the neighborhood streets, somewhere around the three mile mark. At this point, I had lost Amanda and Rusty, and I was running by myself.
I have never liked the incline on Cincinnati, and the closer we got, the more I was dreading it. It's surely not the worst incline on the track, and probably not the longest either, but I was glad to have finally gotten to it, and even more glad once the long incline was over.
The run across 21st and around on Southwest Blvd. was uneventful, and I was kind of zoning until we hit the hill back across the river around Houston. I had forgotten the hills on the west side of downtown--I did not run them at the mock marathon, because I only ran 6 miles that day (the Saturday after the Springfield marathon). Regardless of the hills, I was glad to be in downtown Tulsa, one of my favorite places to run.
Skipping ahead, at the turnaround around 2nd or 3rd (I'm not sure), I saw my old high school friend, Scott, as I was heading back toward Denver. He caught up with me, and unfortunately, wanted to continue the pace he had employed to catch up. I was trying to, er, pace myself, but I did go ahead and speed up to keep up with him. The abrupt change in pace is apparent in the table below. So I found myself in an interesting dilemma: slow down and save my strength for a 4:15ish finish or speed up and utilize the inspiration of a good runner to push me closer to a 4:00ish finish--or a huge wall at about 17 miles in. I chose the latter, and after a couple of water stops, Scott's pace slowed to one more manageable for me.
At Mile 13 (the third chunk), we turned south and headed down the long Riverside stretch. I tried to maintain conversation in order to keep my mind off of the race. About 15-16 miles in, Scott saw his family and he veered off. It was at about mile 18, two minutes and forty seconds into "The Bleeding Heart Show" by The New Pornographers, just as the band started into the "hey-la, hey-la" section most people are familiar with (think University of Phoenix) that my heart literally felt lighter and the goose bumps and watery eyes became irrepressible, and I simply looked up to the sky and ran.
As if that moment wasn't enough, I soon heard someone calling my name. I looked to the east, and there were my wife and kids and my mother-in-law waving to me at about mile 19. As in Springfield, it was a breath of fresh air.
I hit the turnaround at about 20 miles, and I was feeling pretty good (relatively speaking). My left foot was noticeably sore, and I was having periodic stitches and cramps, but really, that was about all. My shoes were holding up really well (so glad I went with the New Balance over the Pearl Izumis). I saw my family again at about mile 21, and I mentioned to my wife that it was starting to get tough.
Now that I was heading back, I was able to see several of my friends--a very unique and special aspect of running a marathon in your own backyard. Scott caught up, and to my relief, he was as prepared as I was to walk a few water stops. I had made it farther without having to stop than I ever had previously in my life: 22 miles. We were still ahead of the 4:00 group, and I was getting kind of excited realizing that I might actually slip in under the four-hour mark.
Scott and I walked and ran, walked and ran ("OK, at the police car, we'll run again…OK, at the..."). I moved ahead slightly and was able to just sit in autopilot for a while. Again, Scott caught up to me, running, as he pointed his thumb behind us. I turned around to watch those yellow 4:00 balloons stride past, and I simply waved--not sure if the wave was directed at Scott or the four-hour finish.
I will probably always remember how impressed I was at Scott’s resolve that compelled him to muster the strength to finish the race just ahead of the four-hour mark. I'm sure he probably had to run those final few miles without stopping a single time. I however did not, but as I hit the 31st Street Bridge, I decided that I would not stop to walk again, and I didn't.
As I crossed the line, all I saw was 4:06. I believe it was 4:06:25, but my time from start to finish was 4:04:06. I was so happy to have shaved 18 minutes off of my Springfield time, and to have come in as close to four hours as I did, considering I really had no intention of even beating 4:15. (I was also glad to have beaten my OKC time by almost an hour.)
As I crossed the line, a boy walked up to me and placed a medal around my neck. I realized later that he had awarded me a half-marathon medal, a situation which the Route 66 officials were surprisingly quick to rectify--my full marathon medal is on its way to me in the mail right now.
Kathy commented in the Runner’s World blog that this was one of her all-time fun events, because of the presence of so many of her friends; and while the Springfield marathon was extremely special to me, I think I would have to agree that this one was indeed the most fun race of the 5 K's, the half, and the fulls that I have run, and it was because I was at home, with friends.
Activity
Pace (min/mile) Splits
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Great job and nice report.
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