The 2011 Seattle Marathon

Two years, seven months and seven days.

That's how long ago I ran the Boston Marathon, how long it had been since my previous marathon.

I had no idea when I started to prepare for the Seattle Marathon, which I ran Sunday, how the time between marathons would leave me.

I started with injury: six months without running due to a strained anterior tibula suffered at Boston. I finally got back to running, running smaller races, a couple of half marathons… Dealt with IT band, quad, and Achilles problems.

There's nothing quite like the marathon. I felt well prepared, though.

I originally decided to try to break 3:10 again, but as training progressed, I felt like I could do 3:08. If I used late-training benchmarks, I might even project myself to run 3:06, but I put together a pace-band a strategy for 3:08.

Seattle

As I did for Portland in 2008, I flew to the city of the race the day before, went from airport to the Expo, then to the hotel. My lovely wife came with me this time, though! Pre-race dinner with Dina, my "neighbor" from college days, and then a quiet night in the hotel room. Some sleep. Checked the weather: 50 degrees and rain. Decided not to wear gloves, but wore my hand-perforated garbage bag to keep me warm. Left for the race.

A couple of blocks from the hotel I had chosen I found the sweats-check. It was raining a little, and I had allowed plenty of time, so I just stood under an overhang for five minutes before moving on towards the starting area. I walked along the periphery and took a spot under an overhang and briefly chatted with a runner. I was troubled by the notion that I might have to back-track a couple of blocks to enter the starting area, as they had portable barriers up. Still, prompted by an announcer encouraging people to get into the starting area, I left the relative comfort of the overhang and made my way up a block, then hopped the barrier as I had seen others, making my way back to the front section of the start. The rain was uncomfortable, so I stuck to a side where there was a little tree-coverage. I had my pre-race GU and started to shiver. You never know exactly what it will be like, so the thought of having been in the hotel another 15 minutes where it was warmer was momentary but compelling.

At long last, the race was ready to start. There was plenty of space up front, and I stood midway between the 3 hour and 3:10 pace leaders.

The Start of the Race

Off we go! The course starts at City Center and takes Fifth Avenue south through the City to the Mercer Island Bridge. That meant we started with a bit of a an uphill, and I had allocated a little extra time to allow for a slow start. I tried to hold myself back and take it very easy, but the uphill was shorter than I anticipated and we were heading downhill already, The smattering of fans cheering towards the start were now gone, and we were running on mostly empty city streets.

Split for Mile 1: 7:03

Fast! Felt too easy to be going that speed. We passed under the Monorail tracks and I saw a monorail car passing overhead. We passed by the Westin (where the Expo had been). I could see the 3 hour group ahead of me.

It seemed the downhills were more significant than the uphills, and coming down a hill I felt some wind make my garbage-bag layer flap, so despite my mental desire to retain it for a few miles, I tore it from my body and felt the cool air on my singlet.

I was surprised that traffic control was letting cars cross the course at this point, but there just weren't that many runners around me. I felt a sensation in my left ankle, the Achilles, but it was soon gone.

Split for Mile 2: 6:48

Way fast! I had anticipated some downhill here, but not thought I would run that fast down it. Again, this felt easy and I wondered if I could be a bit more conservative.

We entered the I-90 Express Lane entrance at this point, heading towards the Floating Bridge. I was surprised that we reached this highway so soon: in my head, the entrance was closer to the water. Signs directed us to the left and half-marathoners to the right (half marathoners started 45 minutes ahead, but I still saw some, meaning it took them close to an hour to go about two miles??). I heard a vehicle behind us and suddenly realized that an ambulance was coming, so we moved over and let it pass -- a problem on the course already? Oh, the half-marathon, perhaps.

Split for Mile 3: 6:55

Still fast! I began to wonder what feedback my watch/foot-pod was providing. It seemed to be telling me I was going 7:20 but in reality faster than 7? That was supposed to be a slower mile (all uphill), but it breezed by easily.

Now, we were heading downhill a bit and approaching a tunnel. At least for a bit, there would be some shelter from the rain.

Split for Mile 4: 6:44

Some fans had taken post there, and the echos from the tunnel made it loud! There was a water stop and medical tent there, too, and the whole scene was a bizarre, apocalyptic scene of a sheltered space seemingly taken over for makeshift purposes. Through the tunnel and on to the bridge.

What is this fascination with running on bridges? There is no view to speak of, since the barriers that prevent cars are too high and you ought to be watching where you are going. It is very loud, since they never can get the whole bridge closed to traffic. It is completely exposed. There are no fans.

This bridge was no different. In fact, we were bordered by cars on either side since we were on the Express Lanes in between. Loud. Feh. I realized I missed the 5-mile marker, then took my first GU.

I reached the other side of the bridge and entered, uphill a bit, another loud tunnel with a water stop inside.

Splits for Miles 5 & 6: 6:50 apiece

Inside the tunnel, there was an inelegant, 180-degree turn around some cones (and I was surprised that there was no timing mat there to enforce it). Downhill back to the bridge road, I felt like I was clicking off fast miles.

Split for Mile 7: 6:59

I quickly compared my overall time to my goal to that point and realized I was already two minutes ahead of my goal! I felt like I should relax and not work so hard. I reached the other side of the bridge, uphill a bit.

Split for Mile 8: 7:29

"That's okay," I thought. I had built such a lead on my goal that one slow mile was not going to be an issue.

The course now turned off the bridge and onto a path down. I was confused to see people walking on this pathway, and it wasn't terribly clear that I was going the right way, but quickly the path dumped me downhill onto Lake Washington Blvd. which was actually a calm, tree-lined road. Very peaceful.

Of course, that didn't mean that I slowed down.

Split for Mile 9: 6:47

Here, I just started clicking off miles, realizing, the further down Lake Washington Blvd. I got, that I wouldn't see my wife and Dina before I came back this way.

Split for Mile 10: 7:01

I checked my overall time at the Mile 10 split and realized that I was under 7 minutes per mile to that point, and that meant I was ahead of my PR pace. I decided to file that thought away.

Towards the end of this mile, I realized that my water bottle was nearly empty. I drank the rest, dumped the detritus, unwrapped the second half of a Nuun tablet I had wrapped in foil, dropped in in the bottle and closed it back up. The tablet rattled around, but I was ready for the next water stop.

Split for Mile 11: 7:17

The road changed a little as we approached Seward Park, and then we were beginning the loop. I briefly chatted with a guy who was trying to understand the pace, and then the water stop came up. I veered behind the line of volunteers and a guy at the table saw me coming with my bottle open. He picked up a pitcher of water and poured it rapidly into my bottle, filling it in seconds, and I was back on the road with the fastest pit-stop I've ever done in a marathon. I caught back up to the guy I had chatted with and we continued along the Seward Park Trail loop.

Split for Mile 12: 7:01

There were a few people walking on the road, nothing to do with the marathon. Mildly distracting.

Photographer. I tried to smile.

Splits for Miles 12 & 13: 7:01

Reached the half-way mark and noted my off-set from the official clock (about six seconds). I also noted that I was still ahead of my PR pace, and I recalled what my Chiro-Med doctor proposed a few months ago: some people come back from injury stronger than before and PR. I never had really thought I'd get that close, but since I knew the road through mile 18 was flat, I figured I'd see if I could sustain a 7:00/mile pace through there and see where I was then.

Exiting Seward Park…

Spilt for Mile 14: 6:58

Now it was time to work the way back up Lake Washington Blvd., and by now, there were lots of runners coming the other way (behind me, essentially). I got to see the 3:30 pace group, the 3:45 pace group, the 4 hour pace group, the 4:15 pace group.

Footwork got a little complicated in that I had to avoid some puddles. Yes, it was still raining.

Split for Mile 15: 6:57

I was beginning to think "if I can hold on to 7s until Mile 20 or 22, I can gut out the final miles and maybe even pick up the pace." I was definitely thinking that I could possibly PR.

Split for Mile 16: 7:01

Cruising along, cookin'.

A slight uphill, and there I see my wife and Dina. They see me and start yelling, cheering loudly. As I pass them, I shouted "I'm killin' it!" but they were cheering too loud and I don't think they heard me. I heard them cheering long after I passed them. It felt great.

Split for Mile 17: 7:03

I passed under the expressway and was no longer facing other marathoners still heading south.

Split for Mile 18: 6:47

I noted that I had only 8.2 to go.

I started to see some people on the right side of the road, and one guy holding a sign that read "You Are All Kenyans!". As I passed them, I called out "that's a great sign!"

A short bit after, I saw about 20 to 30 people on the side of the road holding full-size American Flags and cheering. It was was a slightly odd sight, since it was almost like it was some sort of procession, but it was still pretty cool.

Split for Mile 19: 6:59

I suddenly recalled a theory that Galen had offered, that my lack of marathoning over the past two years had me faster than before, but possibly at the cost of the end of the marathon. He reasoned that I'd be solid through 18 or 20, but then might tail off.

The course took a brief uphill and started to wind a bit. The uphill cost me.

Split for Mile 20: 7:15

I figured that I was still pretty far ahead of my goal, so that mile wouldn't hurt me. However, after a brief downhill, the course took a 90 degree left turn and started up a long, merciless hill into the rain.

I had been warned by the 3:10 pace-leader when I talked to him before the race that the hill was worse than Heartbreak Hill in Boston. Turns out he was right. It is steeper and longer. Short steps, fighting. Passing people, though.

Split for Mile 21: 7:42

Yikes, yes, that hill was bad! But I reached the top and the reward was to start downhill again. Here, I saw my wife and Dina again, and they were cheering for me. I flashed a peace sign as I cruised by.

The downhill continued as I took a 90 degree right turn into Interlaken park.

Split for Mile 22: 6:49

This park road was windy: back and forth, curves, corners. And at this point, I started to see lots of people walking -- I didn't bother to look behind me as I passed them to verify that these were slow half-marathoners -- and the walkers were, predictably, in small bunches. In other words, they were a distraction and required me to dodge them as I passed them. One spectator was in the road, talking to one of the walkers and jerked herself out of the way when she noticed me bearing down on them.

I felt a small flash in my right calf, bringing back the specter of the cramps I felt in Boston and Portland.

Split for Mile 23: 7:06

Just 3.2 to go, time to push harder!

Out of the park and

onto a regular street that becomes an overpass, crossing over highway 520, and blasted in the face by a strong headwind. I fight my way across the overpass, and turn left. The wind abates, but inside of two blocks I'm crossing over I-5 on another overpass with another harsh wind, and then, on the other side, I turn south right into the wind, being battered by wind as I run alongside the freeway and pass back under it. The wind pushed against me every step of the way.

Another turn onto a road that takes us again over I-5 and more headwind to face. Passing walkers left and right, some even have umbrellas! The wind whips the rain into my face like pellets.

Another incline, and I reach the mile marker.

Splits for Miles 24 and 25: 7:14 each

Just a mile and change to go. The chance to PR is probably lost, but have to push hard to the finish anyway. A bit of decline as I turn left down Republican Street and it is urban now. Thinking I should push a bit more and as I start to push off on my right foot I feel a cramp in my right calf.

"No." I say to myself, refusing the cramp as I feel it roll through my calf and I force my leg to bend and keep running, though I have an irregular gait. Three steps, four, five… And it goes away.

I keep passing people. Some walking, some running. Not caring who they are. Zig-zag up Dexter and West on Mercer… We're so close to the finish and…

…there's an underpass. I look downhill and see the resulting uphill and say "really?" I stride downhill and try to fight uphill and I know I should be digging for the finish.

I see the turn ahead, and I head down 4th Ave towards the entrance to the Stadium. I have to dodge walkers as I enter the tunnel but a green field opens up in front of me.

A sign directs me to stay to the left and I tear across the field to the finish line...

... throwing my fist into the air as I see the time on the clock: 3:04:42. My smile is wide as I know I have run a great race, exceeding my goal by several minutes and ahead of my best projection by over a minute.

I slow to a walk and a volunteer places a medal around my neck.

I take a few more steps and have to stop while another volunteer takes off my pacing chip (really, Seattle: get the D-Tags!).

I go forward and see my wife and Susan on the other side of a barrier, cheering me.

It's done.

Graphs, how I love thee? Seriously, though, these graphs help me reflect on the race as much as my recollections do.

Variance from plan (where plan was to finish under 3:08, the same goal I had for Boston in 2009): It sort of flops around a bit, which is primarily an indicator to me how I couldn't plan very well for a course based upon a sketchy elevation map, and secondarily how I was simply going to race much faster than plan most of the way. The big spikes are essentially uphills I didn't count on affecting me much (and perhaps a lapse during mile 8), plus the last few miles being far more challenging (or something...). The standard deviation of my splits was 13.9 seconds, which is wider than Boston, which was wider still than CIM and Portland.

It does show how often I was ahead of my plan. It is the exceptions that are interesting.

Heart Rate:

I think I find this graph the most instructive, now, given that the shape of it tells me about effort. In my prior five marathons, the shape is exactly like this: starts climbing for a few miles, and then descends until about mile 8, stays relatively low for the middle of the race, and then starts climbing as I push towards the finish.

Hm. Where's the climb here? I can see a peak when I fought uphill in Mile 21, but then it settles back down to 165 or so for the next three miles (22-25). Also note, the peak heart rate during those miles separates far more from the average than, say, the middle of the course. This tells me that the combination of uphills and headwind I faced in those final three miles really shut down my overall effort. Perhaps I could have ground out a more potent finish with less wind or fewer hills, but the combination was like getting punched back and forth.

Time relative to Plan:

This shows how quickly I abandoned my plan, and how some combination of running by feel and thinking about a new goal (even a PR) had me marching towards a result three minutes better than goal.

Projected based upon pace:

I did this for my Boston race and thought I'd repeat it, and here I threw in my PR pace as a reference. It reflects what I was tracking in my head in the middle of the race: I had a chance to PR if I could finish strong (and overcome the rough finishing miles). However, it also reflects how I was never running for my goal -- right from the start of the race, my projected finish would be under 3:05 and stay there.

Marathon Record:

Two and a half years between marathons didn't see me lose much! Really, that's what I am most happy about: when I started to train for this, I had no idea what I could realistically run given how long a break it had been, and I had started with just wanting to break 3:10 again (the old Boston standard, the post-40 New York standard -- it is a good reference point). Now I'm in a place where I've been under that 3:10 mark my last three times, and under 3:05 twice in a row. It sort of sets me up to think bigger for New York.

New York City Marathon, November 4, 2012.

• • •

Satisfied.

I feel good about this effort, and it sets me up well for the future, assuming my legs come back to me without serious injury. I am happy to report on this race!

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The 2011 Kaiser SF Half Marathon

This was probably my best, tactically executed race I've ever run.

I don't believe I was in proper condition to break 1:30 today. On a normal course, I don't think I could have done it. On this course, with the right plan, and the right execution of plan, I did it.

[I'll give some more context on me and what brought me to this race in a later post.]

The Kaiser Half course has a few characteristics, one which favors the runner, another which can really hurt the runner. Miles 6 & 7 of the course are decidedly downhill as we traverse JFK through Golden Gate Park (advantage = runner). Miles 11, 12 and 13 are Northbound on the Great Highway, a path that often in this race is battered by race-destroying headwinds (advantage = nature).

I didn't feel that I had the speed to run this Half Marathon under 1:30, a time that would qualify me for guaranteed admission to the New York City Marathon. I felt like keeping a 6:52 pace for all 13.1 miles was not at all likely, so I crafted a race plan based upon my 2009 splits for this course. The main premise as that I would only aim to run 3 miles at or below the 6:52 average I needed, but I would leverage the main downhill section to compensate for my otherwise slower pace.

The Race

The morning was warm. Ordinarily, I'm waiting as long as I can to ditch my last layer of warmup clothes, then doing what I can to stay warm before the start. Today, I was completely comfortable in the shade wearing my singlet and shorts.

After a few minutes delay, with impatient muscles waiting, the starting bell was rung. I was too far up in the pack considering my plan for the first two miles, and I nervously glanced at my watch every 15 to 30 seconds to check my pace. It bobbled around between 7:15 and 6:45, and when I passed the first mile marker, I was pleased with my conservative start.

7:03 split (+3 seconds) for mile 1.

Around that time, I was picked up by a shirtless runner who liked my pacing, asking if I was running 7s. I explained that I was for the first couple of miles, and he asked to keep pace with me. Monica pulled up alongside me too, also complimenting my pacing. Truly, it was my constant glances at my watch that helped me understand how to keep on pace.

As we ran down Fell Street on one side of the Panhandle, I realized why my 2009 split for this mile was fast: it is a nice downhill mile. I remarked "what goes down must come up," at least, for this part of the course.

My breathing was easy, and we turned the corners to be heading back West on Oak Street as we clocked in a fast mile 2.

6:54 split (-6 seconds) for mile 2.

Sure enough, the next mile was uphill and it was taxing to keep what was supposed to be an even-split mile. I felt my breathing starting to accelerate, and kept finding my watch telling me I was going too slowly. As we re-entered the Park, I tried to speed it up a bit, but it didn't seem to make a difference, even after the surface leveled out.

7:11 split (+14 seconds) for mile 3.

Knowing I had lost a lot of time on the mile, I felt that I just needed to get back on pace and hope I could pick it back up on the downhills. I grabbed a cup of water at the first aid station, and used my marathon practice from 2006 to manage the cup so I could sip away at it for a quarter mile. I remarked to Ashley, whom I was catching up to at the time, that this was the first time I've taken any water during a half-marathon.

This mile, interior to the Park, had some twists and turns and a little downhill bit. That, plus running a little scared from losing so much time on the previous mile, and I marked a good split.

6:49 split (-6 seconds) for mile 4.

I knew the big downhill was coming soon, but I was beginning to feel more taxed that I hoped to be as we zig-zagged around back onto JFK. As we ran back past the starting line, I took water again, not getting as much in as the previous time since I was concerned about slowing down. I felt the downhill coming.

6:56 split (+6 seconds) for mile 5.

As I saw Crossover Drive above and we crested the hill before the downhill began, I said aloud, "here we go!". I moved to the outside of the throng of runners and picked up the pace significantly. I made sure I was in control, but I knew I was 10 seconds behind pace coming in, and so I didn't mind when I glanced at my watch and it told me I was running sub-6 pace at that moment. I kept passing runners, though other runners were gunning the downhill here just as I was.

I pushed and ran fast, maintaining a solid effort. Just before the mile marker, I saw my wife and kids, waved at them, and smiled.

6:08 split (-24 seconds) for mile 6.

The split was good, and I was just hoping I hadn't burned too much energy. I was now on the positive side of the ledger, though, and if I could meet my target for this mile, I could have a shot at my goal. I did slow down a bit, and this mile doesn't have the same steepness of downhill as does mile 6, so it took another solid effort to keep the pace.

I skipped the water stop this time, pushing the last downhill section as we went down the end of JFK (or Bernice Rogers Way). I heard someone's watch beeping like we had reached a mile marker, so I wondered where the mile ended… until I saw it around the corner on the Great Highway.

I turned into the sun, wishing I had worn a hat, and began the push.

6:33 split (-2 seconds) for mile 7.

The fact that the mile marker stand was bowled over towards the South made me wonder how hard the wind was going to be coming up. The sun beat down and I figured that I had about 15 seconds to spare relative to my plan, so if I could just keep to my target of 6:55 all the way down, I would be able to give back 5 seconds a mile on the way back up.

I kept looking at my watch every 20 seconds as I slowly eased up on my pace. 6:40… 6:45… 6:50…. 6:55 -- there, I had the pace I needed to keep, but it started to feel hard to keep. I pushed on, with some doubt starting to form, but was bolstered when I reached the mile marker.

6:52 split (-2 seconds) for mile 8.

I stared to spot Danielle ahead, and was surprised that I was starting to bring in Adam. I just focused on click off the mile, starting to see my breathing getting harder, and starting to feel like I might be losing my grip on the race as I glanced at my watch a couple of times and saw 7:12 for my pace. Still, I pressed on, battling the sun.

I took a cup of water at the next aid station, and, failing to get more than a sip, I dumped the cool water on my head. Again, this is nothing I have ever done in a half-marathon, but the heat was beginning to take it's toll. I had moments of fear of failure, remembering for a second how I tried to push in mile 10 of the San Jose Half and lost 20 seconds on my mile, pondering in a split second what I would have to do to qualify for New York when my race fell apart here. I knew I had to hold pace for the rest of the race, but I was bolstered by my split.

6:56 split (+1 seconds) for mile 9.

One more mile before the turnaround and the make-or-break of the race, I told myself. A good cushion could make this last. I bore down and started to push a bit harder, counting stride for pacing and checking my watch to keep on target. I kept pushing as I started to see runners coming back the other way on the other side of the Great Highway.

A mirage surfaced: the race-path merged left of the divided highway at Sloat, and I thought for a moment that I had reached the turnaround. Instead, there was more left. As we got closer to the turn, I saw Galen coming back. He said "catch me, Brent!" And I thought: "I don't need to. I just need to hold pace".

After the turn, I braced for the wind. It wasn't bad, and even a bit cooling! I marked the split.

6:53 split (-2 seconds) for mile 10.

I saw Danielle ahead, and felt like this race would never be over. The wind wasn't punishing, but my efforts to keep the pace were beginning to freak me out. I felt like I might not be able to hold on, and though I had a 20 second cushion, I could blow it with just one slow mile.

I kept Danielle in my sights and just tried to pull in a good mile. It felt like a long one.

6:51 split (-4 seconds) for mile 11.

The split surprised me. It was so hard to get there, and yet, now I realized that at any moment, my body would go into desperation-push mode and drive me to the finish. I kept my arms pumping a bit more, started counting off strides again, and reached Danielle. She gave me encouragement and I kept waiting for that instinct to kick in.

I looked down at my watch: 1.6 to go. It kicked in.

I no longer felt like I had anything to hold back, and I was pushing harder and harder with every stride. I was feeling slow, but knew I just had to keep going and I could make it. I was far enough ahead that all I had to do was not collapse or stop or slow down to a crawl.

I kept looking at my watch. 1.4 to go... 1.25 to go. I could see the mile 12 banner as I pushed along.

6:59 split (+4 seconds) for mile 12.

I was in striking distance. Though I had lost some ground, I knew I had enough of a cushion to do it. I just had to do it, now.

The stretch between Lincoln and JFK went by quickly, and before I realized it, I was heading back uphill into the Park and on my way to the finish line. I glanced at my watch and was surprised that I was heading uphill at 6:50 pace, and I kept pushing hard. Man, that hill seemed forever long, and I forgot that it came in two parts.

After reaching the leveling out part on the first hill, I kept wondering where the hell the finish line was. I knew it was around a corner and I wouldn't see it coming, so as I kept desperately trying to hold my pace and running with all I had left, I turned that corner and saw the finish line approaching. I pushed, I dug, I kept going hard, not wanting anything to fail me in the final stretch.

I frantically looked at the finishing arch, looking for the clock. There: 1:29:35! I can bring this in! I pushed harder and gave it my last set of strides, and...

...crossed the finish line before the clock read 1:29:45!

I was exhausted.

I was toast.

I was done.

I did it.

I have qualified to run the New York City Marathon.

Official Time: 1:29:41.