Date: 01 Oct 2006 21:05:40
From: joe positive
Subject: ok, sort of a race report: Akron Marathon
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The only thing worse than writing a race report is writing a race report
about a race that didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I ran Akron
yesterday, and the short story is: 3:17:28, 7th female, 1st masters. This
was not a PR, and in fact was the first marathon I've run that was not a
PR.
Longer story, details inserted somewhat randomly:
This week I finally read "The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit," which I liked
more than I expected to. The main character has a sort of mantra that
goes: It doesn't really matter. Here goes nothing. It will be interesting
to see how this will turn out.
The Akron paper ran a story Friday with a headline something like "Even
modest runners have a chance this year," and went on to report that the
organizers were going to make the race a community event rather than an
elite-focussed thing. To me, this sounded like maybe they hadn't been able
to attract elites, but it didn't really matter to me. It would be
interesting to see how this turned out. Anyway, I got to the expo to pick
up my stuff, and behold! an F number had been bestowed on me for the first
time in my life! Apparently the decision had been really last minute,
because the bib didn't have a name on it like all the others. No matter.
Raceday morning was 48F, windy, and gray-skied. Rain and more wind were
expected by midday. I did not wear my (un)trusty GPS, because I wasn't
sure it would hold a signal the whole way. I was left with my regular race
watch and my own (un)trusty sense of pace. Here goes nothing. At the gun
we set off, with the wind and slightly downhill. In addition to the
marathon, there were also 2 separate relay races (2-person and 5-person),
and I felt lost in a sea of pink and blue bibs (marathon bibs were yellow)
I dared not pace off of. First mile was too fast, but I corrected and ran
the next 2 miles (uphill, into the wind) a bit slow. The first 6 miles
were generally uncomfortable, not least because of the wind and the
(early-arriving) rain. The course had more hills than I realized and I
just couldn't regulate my effort enough to regulate my pace. Also, my feet
started to hurt. I knew we'd turn around sometime after 10K so I told
myself it didn't matter. Miles 6 - 12 were the best in the whole race; I
felt relaxed and in control; I saw Mike; I had a brief conversation with
someone running nearby; a spectator called out "hey yellow [bib], you're
about 6th woman."
Around mile 11 the course left the streets for a crushed-limestone towpath.
After a few miles, the novelty of the surface wore off and my feet began to
hurt more (I didn't find out until later that this was due to bloodblisters
growing on the soles of my feet). By mile 13 I thought I might not make it
to 20 feeling good, and by 14 I knew it for sure. No matter. I'd just
try and make it to 20 without wanting to die. Here goes nothing.
15 - 19 were almost all uphill. Thoroughly demoralized, I passed some
relay-exchange point and a bike pulled out in front of me, and kept looking
over his shoulder - at me, it seemed. I puffed to someone running
nearby: "what's this bike?" The guy said "I guess you're the leader." I
smiled for what would be the last time that morning and said "old lady
leader, maybe." Oh man, that bike! Here I was, struggling to maintain
something under 7:45s (and later 8s) and there was a bike escort announcing
to all Hey y'all here's the masters leader! I felt like a total idiot and
pretender as the spectators (and traffic cops) clapped and whoohoo'd and
cheered and wanted to take my picture. I wanted to apologize to that poor
guy having to bike really really slow in 48-degree windy rain, but I
couldn't catch him. After a very steep hill just before 22, my legs were
totally numb except when my calves wanted to cramp (off and on until the
end, it turned out). The rest of the race was a blur: down a hill, up one,
try some powerade for those cramps, flat, oh shit low blood sugar - must've
been the powerade, up one last goddamn hill, that poor bike guy might as
well get off and walk his bike I'm going so slow, ok there's the finish.
Well that sure turned out interesting.
Though I saw Mike on the street just before the finish, we hadn't made
arrangements on where to meet, and we didn't count on the chaos of all the
families and friends of all the marathoners and 2-person and 5-person
relayers. Consequently, we didn't hook up for nearly an hour, by which
time I was shivering violently from hobbling around the outdoor stadium in
wet clothes, and in tears from the cold and fatigue and frustration. Some
wonderful man gave me a Cleveland Indians sweatshirt, may god bless him.
So this already-too-long report has been been mostly a human-interest thing.
Here's a brief analysis from a running point of view:
1) inadequate hill training, and not realizing just how hilly this course
was
2) too-fast, downhill first mile, as my quads have been reminding me all
day. Poor sense of pace and no one to pace off of (certainly not the guy
running a 5K leg of a relay)
3) training that included lots of quantity but not enough quality. Nearly
all my medium-long runs - last year's marathon-training staple - were at
recovery pace; I was too tired to do otherwise.
4) 48F and sunny is fine; 48F and rainy and gray and windy is too much for
me.
Anyway, my training partners asked me to run Disney with them, so I'm going
to. My mind wants to start training right now, but my legs are too sore.
But maybe by the end of the week I'll start. It will be interesting to see
how this turns out.
Karen
--
live! vicariously!
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