"The Marathon Always Wins." Steve Sisson, Rogue Running
Chickamauga 2016, 5:01:28
Publix Georgia 2017, 4:48:13
I'm establishing a pattern of two marathons per year, a spring and a fall marathon. Although I appreciated the excellent organization of the Chickamauga Battlefield Marathon in 2016, I enjoyed the energy of the larger Georgia Marathon in March 2017, and decided to try for a bigger marathon for fall 2017. But I didn't get into the New York Marathon lottery (17% odds this year), and after determining that the Savannah Rock & Roll Marathon wasn't ideal timing for personal reasons, I decided that I had some unfinished business at Chickamauga. I had struggled a great deal in the last four miles of last year's marathon. I was a tiny bit disappointed that I needed more than five hours to finish, and was confident that I could do better now that I had a little bit of experience.
But, I decided not to join a formal training program this year, because I missed the experience of running some of the weekend 5K to half-marathon races in the late summer and early fall months. I set up a training schedule for the long runs on Saturdays or Sundays. In the end, the longest run that I managed was a total of 19 miles, four weeks in advance of the marathon. On that day, I simply ran out of time to run: I needed to get on with other activities for the rest of the day, but I was confident that I could have run 7 more miles if I had needed to. I felt that I might be a tiny bit undertrained, but mentally I was ready. I know what it's like to run 26 miles, having done it twice now. And the marathon is all about the mental preparation, right?!
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| With training partners Jennifer Butz, Carl Line, and Steve Friedman |
The final part of my mental preparation was watching the New York City marathon on television last weekend. I was inspired by Shalane Flanagan's breakaway from the pack around mile 23 and her strong finish, winning by a full minute over last year's winner, Mary Keitany. The men's finish was exciting, with Geoffrey Kamworor barely staying ahead of Wilson Kipsang's last-minute sprint to the finish, and Meb Keflezighi completing his 26th marathon, probably his final race as a professional.
Most of this year's fall marathons have been run in unseasonably warm conditions, from Chicago in October, to New York and Savannah last weekend. My choice of Chickamauga, on November 11, proved to be ideal: the temperature at the start was a little cold, 37 degrees F, but fortunately it wasn't windy at all. The temperature was forecast to rise to about 50 deg F by midday. Better a little too cool than too warm. And no chance of rain today! I was comfortable wearing two running shirts and tights, gloves with a chemical hand warmer, and just a cap, not needing any protection for my ears. I carried about 30 oz of Nuun in two bottles, one on a running belt and another in a recyclable water bottle, and would take water at every station, to stay well-hydrated. I had four packs of shot blocks, planning to take one every mile after 40 minutes, so that I wouldn't hit a wall due to lack of calories. I resolved to follow a strict 3:30 run / 0:30 walk interval plan, plus walking through every water station, and to start off with the 5-hour pace group for the first few miles. Once I was assured that I had not started off too fast, I would run with a relaxed rhythm, not pressing, not working too hard. The finale would be decided after the 23-mile mark, where I would evaluate and try to accelerate a bit to finish strongly. Not quite like Shalane Flanagan, but I could be strong and confident like her, motoring into the final miles. I was confident that I would improve on my 4:48 time in the Georgia Marathon, since I wouldn't have the big hills of the Atlanta / Decatur course. My "soft" goal was sub-4:45, and my "stretch" goal was 4:30, although I didn't dare share that with anyone.
Starting way back with the 5-hour pace group, I was beginning the marathon with a couple of friends. Heather Garner, a veteran of over 100 marathons, was serving as the 5-hour pacer today. The pacer uniform for this marathon was a bright orange shirt, very easily spotted from a distance. Lindy Liu, another friend with the Tucker Running Club, was running her second marathon. Her "soft" goal was a 5-hour finish. Lindy prepared by serving as a run leader for the Atlanta Track Club half-marathon training group this fall, and then adding miles as needed on her own. Lindy had shared her Garmin link with me a few months ago, so I could see that she had diligently completed all of the training, including a 22-mile run on the same weekend that I completed 19 miles.
Following long-standing tradition, the 38th running of the Chickamauga Marathon began at 7:30 am, with the loud report and orange flash of a cannon! It took about a minute to get to the starting line, and I followed Heather and the other pacer across the starting line. Then I discovered that my Garmin, which had been primed for the start, had disconnected from the satellite in the interim. It took between 45 and 60 seconds after my official chip start before I could start the timer, but I would be able to account for that as the race proceeded, just add a minute to the time recorded.
I was careful to take the first walk break at 3:30 elapsed, and walk for the full 30 seconds before running again. We made a loop around Barnhardt Circle, then due south out of the small town of Fort Oglethorpe, and with a couple of turns, entered the park, officially the Chickamauga Battlefield National Monument. I covered the first two miles at an 11 minute / mile pace, very conservatively, as planned. We reached the first water station shortly after the 2-mile marker, at which point I moved ahead of the 5-hour pace group. I didn't obsess too much over my watch, but was comfortably jogging at an average 10 minute / mile pace, including the walk breaks. The route was very gently rolling, a little uphill, then a little downhill, some level running, such a nice change from running in Atlanta. Bonnie was there to cheer me on at mile 4. The road through the forest was lovely, a few leaves gently falling from the trees, it couldn't have been a better day for running. A few miles into the race, I caught up to a pair of women in the orange shirts, pacing at 4:45. I easily passed them, hoping that I hadn't moved too quickly. Being careful not to work too hard, I just kept jogging along, taking the prescribed walk break every 3-1/2 minutes, plus additional short breaks through each water station. I was proud to pass Bonnie at mile 8, knowing that she would see the 4:45 pacers behind me.
Around 12 miles into the race, I spotted more orange shirts up ahead, the 4:30 pacers. Reminding myself that a negative split race would require that I didn't pass them before the half marathon mark, I tucked in behind them. OK, for a moment I had moved a few feet in front, I couldn't help myself, but on the next walk break, the pacers and a few other runners passed me again, and I followed them past the 13.1 timing strip. 2:14 on my watch, but adding the 45-60 second delay, that was probably just right. I passed the 4:30 pacers as I began the second loop of the race. My legs still felt good, as I saw Bonnie around mile 14. I had removed my gloves a few miles earlier, and handed them to her as I passed her, proud to show her that I was ahead of the 4:30 pacers. She will be impressed by how well I'm doing, I thought.
In the Publix Georgia Marathon, I had started to push a bit more after the half-marathon point, but today I resolved to stay at the same easy pace. After the 16-mile marker, I noticed that my legs were getting a little sore. I was slowing down a bit, but was still moving at about a 10:15 - 10:30 min / mile pace. No worries, even when one of the 4:30 pacers caught up to me around mile 18. He had lost his partner for some reason. I ran with the 4:30 pacer for a moment until the next walk break, no problem, I would catch up when I began running again. Hmm, I couldn't gain on the 4:30 pacer when I began running at the easy pace. And it was too soon to begin pressing. Stay with my plan, I told myself, as I wasn't expecting to run at the 4:30 pace until later in the race.
Then the other 4:30 pacer caught up with me around the mile 19 marker. He had turned his shirt inside-out, indicating that he was no longer able to pace the race. He told one of the other runners that he had been recovering from an injury and had also been a bit under the weather the past week, and probably shouldn't have tried to pace this soon. But he didn't look like he was having too much trouble. On the other hand, not only were my legs sore, the soles of my feet were also starting to really hurt. I told myself, this isn't anything serious, nothing is actually injured, this is just typical soreness. I took my first unplanned walk break. Then I realized that the best way to ease the pain was to get to the finish line as quickly as possible. I tried to speed up, but was so relieved when the watch signaled another walk break after a moment.
In the 20th mile, I saw a few men ahead of me leaning against a fence, stretching their legs. I had never before stopped in a race, but decided that 30 seconds of stretching might be just the cure that I needed. 15 seconds of a runner's stretch for each leg, as a bunch of other runners jogged by: OK, let's get going, time's a-wasting. Nope, that really didn't help. I didn't remember this much of an uphill struggle on the first loop. A leaf fell out of a tree and hit me in the face, that was really annoying. How far along am I? 19.75 miles elapsed. Suddenly, I'm really struggling. I remember that my longest training run in this cycle was 19 miles. Gee, could there be a connection with my difficulties at this point?
As my watch signaled completing 20 miles (a moment before reaching the 20-mile marker), I ran my first slower-than-11 minute mile since mile 2. 3:24 on the watch, 3:25 elapsed, adding the extra 45-60 seconds. Only a 10K to go, I can do this. I can run 6.2 miles in 62 minutes to finish in 4:27. In fact I can take one more walk break, 4:28 would be just fine. Oh no, this is really painful. And that hill is definitely steep. What happened to the gently rolling course? C'mon Frank, embrace the pain cave, it's supposed to hurt at this stage. There really isn't anything wrong.
Mile 21, 11:39; then mile 22, 13:17. A 4:30 finish is slipping away. Another extra walk break will help, remember my plan to push after mile 23. Mile 23 required 13:30. This is just as tough as last year at this point. I really don't want to run anymore. Why did I think that I could run a marathon? Walking feels OK, except for my burning soles. An ice bath for my feet will feel really good back at the hotel. And I can get back to the hotel more quickly if I run. Run. Run! In a minute. OK, RUN NOW!! Ouch, take a walk break. What happened to speeding up at the end? People are passing me. I passed them earlier in the race, so easily. Whose having the last laugh now? My race has completely fallen apart.
Mile 24 signaled, 12:51, about 4:17 elapsed; the mile 24 marker is way up ahead, around 4:18 on my watch. 2.2 miles to the finish line, still on track to finish well ahead of my 4:48 PR. Then one of the 4:45 pacers passed me. I said to her "I was hoping that I wouldn't see you again." She tried to encourage me, telling me that she was about a minute ahead of pace. But by my calculation, she is right on pace. I'm going to keep her in my sights. Then she pulls away out of view. My watch shows that I'm moving slower than 15 min / mile pace. No, NO, I can't let my Garmin show a 15 minute mile. Run, RUN, RUN! OK, public embarrassment averted with 14:29 for mile 25 on the Garmin, about 1.4 miles to go, but 4:31 elapsed. Bonnie must be wondering if I'm OK, I wonder if she realizes how much I've slowed.
Isn't this where I was going to sprint to the finish? But I can barely run, and then only for about a minute at a time. I walk out of the park to cross the highway, where the police have stopped traffic so that I can cross. So I had better run across the road. Thanks for stopping the traffic for me. Walk again for a moment. Now I can hear the announcer at the finish line, just a couple of blocks to my right. Yet another runner is approaching from behind me. Then he pulls up to walk with me. For some reason, he didn't pass me. I'm trying to will myself to begin running again, but am having trouble finding the motivation. Then I look at my watch, mile 26 elapsed on the watch at 4:44, but I know from last year that the mile 26 marker won't appear until I reach Barnhart Circle, with the finish line visible across the field. I say to the other runner, "I'll set a PR if I can get to the finish line in 3 minutes." He responds, "Let's go, then!" With his encouragement, we both begin running. As I turn onto Barnhart Circle, I pick up the cadence of my pace, and move ahead for a few seconds, then my new friend catches up with me. As we pass the mile 26 marker, I think that we're going to run in together, then I falter for a few steps, he looks back for a moment as I tuck in just behind his left shoulder. There's the 13 mile marker for the half marathon, 0.11 miles to go. We turn the last corner, there is the finish line, waaaay up ahead! Faster, faster, I think. Faster, faster, the other guy moves ahead. I tie an imaginary bungee cord to his back and pick up a little speed myself. I don't notice my burning feet, my hurting legs, as the magnetism of the finish line is drawing me closer and closer. I see the race clock turning over to 4:49, knowing that it took me a minute to cross the line, at least I will have a PR by some seconds. People are cheering, I'm almost there, and, AND, AND, I'M DONE! With the last bit of energy, I raise my right fist in victory, let out a Shalane-like cry of "Heck, YEAH!!!", knowing that children are around. I wobble to a stop, bending my head to accept the medal, "Thank you," stopping my watch, getting a bottle of water, bending over at the waist in exhaustion for a moment. Then standing up, saying to the other runner "Thanks for encouraging me to the finish." Then congratulating another runner accepting his framed bib for completing his first marathon.
Wow, today's race was really difficult. I limp up to Bonnie waiting just past the finish line, she gives me a big hug, then tells me to stretch. Yes, STRETCH! I find a tree and lean up against it. Oh, it feels so good to stretch. I feel tears coming to my eyes. Is it from pain? No, more from the intensity of emotion from having just finished 26.2 miles, as my shoulders shake for a moment. I'm thinking of the marathon motto, "Dream the impossible, do the incredible!" Official time 4:48:12.
In the next few minutes, I do quickly recover. I start mentally kicking myself, "Why couldn't I push myself a bit harder? I'm OK. I'm just going to be a little sore." I join Heather's husband Patrick and their 11-month-old son to watch the other finishers. Patrick spots Heather and the other 5-hour pacer in the orange shirts making the turn onto Barnhart Circle, around 4:57 on the clock. Then I see, in front of them, Lindy Liu, coming into the finish line at 4:59 on the clock! I start yelling, "Lindy, you've done it! You've beaten your goal! Great job, GO GO GO!" Lindy sprints ahead to cross the finish line. About 30 seconds later, Heather and the other pacer cross, a few seconds ahead of 5:00:00 on the clock. Perfect pacing on their part!
After the race, I checked my time in the March 2017 Georgia Marathon. Yes, I set a new personal record today, but by just 1 second! 1 second in the course of 288 minutes and 12 seconds, 17,292 seconds today vs. 17,293 seconds in March.
Did I run miles 3 through 16 too quickly today? I'm not sure that I did, despite "crashing" in the last quarter of the marathon. I simply wasn't really prepared to run more than 20 miles today. And I probably would have struggled after 3-1/2 hours on my feet, even at a slower pace, given that my body was probably feeling the number of steps more than the distance. My speed has improved a bit this year, evidenced by the recent 10K and 10-mile personal bests this year, but I've not worked enough on my endurance. The lesson that I take from this weekend's experience is that I can't skimp on the distance training if I'm going to continue running marathons. I don't want to suffer like this again, I want to enjoy a strong finish in my next marathon. And so, in preparation for the Publix Georgia Marathon in March 2018, I registered for the Atlanta Track Club training program today.
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| With Tucker Running Club: Patrick and Heather Garner, holding Seamus Garner, and Lindy Liu on the right. Everyone is smiling before the start! |
Following long-standing tradition, the 38th running of the Chickamauga Marathon began at 7:30 am, with the loud report and orange flash of a cannon! It took about a minute to get to the starting line, and I followed Heather and the other pacer across the starting line. Then I discovered that my Garmin, which had been primed for the start, had disconnected from the satellite in the interim. It took between 45 and 60 seconds after my official chip start before I could start the timer, but I would be able to account for that as the race proceeded, just add a minute to the time recorded.
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| At the start. Blue bib is for the full marathon, yellow bibs are for half marathon runners. |
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| Mile 4, I've settled into a good rhythm. |
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| Mile 14: I thought that I could run at this easy pace forever. |
Then the other 4:30 pacer caught up with me around the mile 19 marker. He had turned his shirt inside-out, indicating that he was no longer able to pace the race. He told one of the other runners that he had been recovering from an injury and had also been a bit under the weather the past week, and probably shouldn't have tried to pace this soon. But he didn't look like he was having too much trouble. On the other hand, not only were my legs sore, the soles of my feet were also starting to really hurt. I told myself, this isn't anything serious, nothing is actually injured, this is just typical soreness. I took my first unplanned walk break. Then I realized that the best way to ease the pain was to get to the finish line as quickly as possible. I tried to speed up, but was so relieved when the watch signaled another walk break after a moment.
In the 20th mile, I saw a few men ahead of me leaning against a fence, stretching their legs. I had never before stopped in a race, but decided that 30 seconds of stretching might be just the cure that I needed. 15 seconds of a runner's stretch for each leg, as a bunch of other runners jogged by: OK, let's get going, time's a-wasting. Nope, that really didn't help. I didn't remember this much of an uphill struggle on the first loop. A leaf fell out of a tree and hit me in the face, that was really annoying. How far along am I? 19.75 miles elapsed. Suddenly, I'm really struggling. I remember that my longest training run in this cycle was 19 miles. Gee, could there be a connection with my difficulties at this point?
As my watch signaled completing 20 miles (a moment before reaching the 20-mile marker), I ran my first slower-than-11 minute mile since mile 2. 3:24 on the watch, 3:25 elapsed, adding the extra 45-60 seconds. Only a 10K to go, I can do this. I can run 6.2 miles in 62 minutes to finish in 4:27. In fact I can take one more walk break, 4:28 would be just fine. Oh no, this is really painful. And that hill is definitely steep. What happened to the gently rolling course? C'mon Frank, embrace the pain cave, it's supposed to hurt at this stage. There really isn't anything wrong.
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| Look at how badly my pace dropped off after mile 19. |
Mile 24 signaled, 12:51, about 4:17 elapsed; the mile 24 marker is way up ahead, around 4:18 on my watch. 2.2 miles to the finish line, still on track to finish well ahead of my 4:48 PR. Then one of the 4:45 pacers passed me. I said to her "I was hoping that I wouldn't see you again." She tried to encourage me, telling me that she was about a minute ahead of pace. But by my calculation, she is right on pace. I'm going to keep her in my sights. Then she pulls away out of view. My watch shows that I'm moving slower than 15 min / mile pace. No, NO, I can't let my Garmin show a 15 minute mile. Run, RUN, RUN! OK, public embarrassment averted with 14:29 for mile 25 on the Garmin, about 1.4 miles to go, but 4:31 elapsed. Bonnie must be wondering if I'm OK, I wonder if she realizes how much I've slowed.
Isn't this where I was going to sprint to the finish? But I can barely run, and then only for about a minute at a time. I walk out of the park to cross the highway, where the police have stopped traffic so that I can cross. So I had better run across the road. Thanks for stopping the traffic for me. Walk again for a moment. Now I can hear the announcer at the finish line, just a couple of blocks to my right. Yet another runner is approaching from behind me. Then he pulls up to walk with me. For some reason, he didn't pass me. I'm trying to will myself to begin running again, but am having trouble finding the motivation. Then I look at my watch, mile 26 elapsed on the watch at 4:44, but I know from last year that the mile 26 marker won't appear until I reach Barnhart Circle, with the finish line visible across the field. I say to the other runner, "I'll set a PR if I can get to the finish line in 3 minutes." He responds, "Let's go, then!" With his encouragement, we both begin running. As I turn onto Barnhart Circle, I pick up the cadence of my pace, and move ahead for a few seconds, then my new friend catches up with me. As we pass the mile 26 marker, I think that we're going to run in together, then I falter for a few steps, he looks back for a moment as I tuck in just behind his left shoulder. There's the 13 mile marker for the half marathon, 0.11 miles to go. We turn the last corner, there is the finish line, waaaay up ahead! Faster, faster, I think. Faster, faster, the other guy moves ahead. I tie an imaginary bungee cord to his back and pick up a little speed myself. I don't notice my burning feet, my hurting legs, as the magnetism of the finish line is drawing me closer and closer. I see the race clock turning over to 4:49, knowing that it took me a minute to cross the line, at least I will have a PR by some seconds. People are cheering, I'm almost there, and, AND, AND, I'M DONE! With the last bit of energy, I raise my right fist in victory, let out a Shalane-like cry of "Heck, YEAH!!!", knowing that children are around. I wobble to a stop, bending my head to accept the medal, "Thank you," stopping my watch, getting a bottle of water, bending over at the waist in exhaustion for a moment. Then standing up, saying to the other runner "Thanks for encouraging me to the finish." Then congratulating another runner accepting his framed bib for completing his first marathon.
Wow, today's race was really difficult. I limp up to Bonnie waiting just past the finish line, she gives me a big hug, then tells me to stretch. Yes, STRETCH! I find a tree and lean up against it. Oh, it feels so good to stretch. I feel tears coming to my eyes. Is it from pain? No, more from the intensity of emotion from having just finished 26.2 miles, as my shoulders shake for a moment. I'm thinking of the marathon motto, "Dream the impossible, do the incredible!" Official time 4:48:12.
In the next few minutes, I do quickly recover. I start mentally kicking myself, "Why couldn't I push myself a bit harder? I'm OK. I'm just going to be a little sore." I join Heather's husband Patrick and their 11-month-old son to watch the other finishers. Patrick spots Heather and the other 5-hour pacer in the orange shirts making the turn onto Barnhart Circle, around 4:57 on the clock. Then I see, in front of them, Lindy Liu, coming into the finish line at 4:59 on the clock! I start yelling, "Lindy, you've done it! You've beaten your goal! Great job, GO GO GO!" Lindy sprints ahead to cross the finish line. About 30 seconds later, Heather and the other pacer cross, a few seconds ahead of 5:00:00 on the clock. Perfect pacing on their part!
After the race, I checked my time in the March 2017 Georgia Marathon. Yes, I set a new personal record today, but by just 1 second! 1 second in the course of 288 minutes and 12 seconds, 17,292 seconds today vs. 17,293 seconds in March.
Did I run miles 3 through 16 too quickly today? I'm not sure that I did, despite "crashing" in the last quarter of the marathon. I simply wasn't really prepared to run more than 20 miles today. And I probably would have struggled after 3-1/2 hours on my feet, even at a slower pace, given that my body was probably feeling the number of steps more than the distance. My speed has improved a bit this year, evidenced by the recent 10K and 10-mile personal bests this year, but I've not worked enough on my endurance. The lesson that I take from this weekend's experience is that I can't skimp on the distance training if I'm going to continue running marathons. I don't want to suffer like this again, I want to enjoy a strong finish in my next marathon. And so, in preparation for the Publix Georgia Marathon in March 2018, I registered for the Atlanta Track Club training program today.
