BolderBOULDER 10k 2010

I don't usually suffer from pre-race jitters, at least not so badly that I can't sleep the night before. But last night I didn't fall asleep until almost 11 and was up by 4:30. I think there were a couple of reasons for this. One was excitement for my sister, who was going to run her first 10k race. The other was excitement for myself--I was feeling pretty good about my chances for breaking 50 minutes this time. Of course, I was steadfastly ignoring the voice in my head that repeatedly pointed out that I'd run a marathon two weeks ago. And I refused to think about the last time I'd run the BolderBOULDER two weeks after a marathon--in 2007, after Colfax. After all, this year I haven't run at all since Cleveland, except for two very easy short Saturday runs with my friends. I was going into today's race rested and determined. But you know what they say about those who don't learn their history...

On the drive up this morning I discussed strategy and logistics with my sister. For one thing, my race started at 7:10 and hers at 8:55. Which meant that I would be done nearly an hour before she would even start! We agreed that she would position herself on the sidelines near the start to cheer for me when I went past, and I told her I would meet her at the 2k mark during her race, and run the rest of the way with her (at least, I told her I would try. I didn't know how much I'd have left after my own race!). When we got to the starting area (using a primo parking space suggested by a friend of hers), I gave myself a quick warmup mile and stretched. We hugged each other "Good luck" and I made my way to my corral.

As the clock inched towards my start time, I tried to quell the nervous energy I felt radiating through my arms and legs. I didn't want to let myself start too quickly and burn out. I tried to remember the lesson I'd learned last year, when I'd flared out after the first two miles following the angry burst of speed I'd used at the start to make up time (on a related note, I had learned one lesson, and double-knotted both of my shoes). I still intended to run an aggressive race, but I wanted to maintain control this time.

Even so, I let my speed get away from me a bit at the start of the race. Caught up in the excitement, I let my pace creep slowly up to around 7:30 for most of the first mile. I eased off a bit to finish in 7:44. It was a touch more aggressive than I'd wanted, but I felt confident that I could hold the 8-minute pace I wanted for the rest of the race. My split for the second mile was 8:13, which meant I'd lost all the extra time I'd built up in the first mile. At the time I figured I'd be able to maintain a steady pace and could still come in under 50 minutes. But as the course turned onto Glenwood and the 4k mark, the fact of my sleepless night (combined, I guess, with the fact that I was more tired after Cleveland than I thought) began to tell on me. My splits for miles 3 and 4 were both just under 9-minute pace, thanks to some (thankfully, short) walking breaks.

I have to admit, I was depressed. I told myself I'd let myself down, that I should have been able to keep my pace. I was still pointedly ignoring the voice in my head that was still pointing out that I'd run a marathon two weeks ago. In fact I rallied a bit in the 5th mile, which I finished just under 8:14 (8:13.99 actually). But then I slowed again, crawling along at about 9:15 pace for a quarter mile or so. I just couldn't get my legs moving any faster, and was resigning myself to a slow finish after all when I heard someone call my name. I looked and, coming up next to me, was Laura from Runner's Edge! Somehow, out of all the 50,000+ participants each year, she and I always manage to find each other. "How are you doing?" she asked. "I'm dying," I replied. But, somehow, seeing her (again!) gave me my third wind, and I increased my pace slightly for the last hill on Folsom. I turned onto Stadium Road, drawing on everything I had left to finish as strong as I could. That last little rally helped me run mile 6 in 8:55. I kept pushing as I ran through the stadium, finishing triumphantly in 52:30. It wasn't a PR, but it was my second fastest 10k.

After spending about 45 minutes recovering in the stadium and chatting with some friends, I made my way up Folsom to meet Sara at the 2k mark as we'd agreed. As it happened, I got there just in time and still nearly missed her. She called my name and I joined her on the course. We ran along at what was, for her, a solid effort that she'd have to work to maintain for the whole race, taking regular walk breaks. Personally I was glad for the breaks...In due course we made it to the last hill up Folsom. At the 9k mark (bottom of the hill), I told Sara, "Okay, that's it, no more walking. We're going to run out this last 'k'." "No problem," she said.

As we turned onto Stadium Drive, I exhorted her to pick up her pace even more. This, however, proved problematic as for some inexplicable reason people were walking! Seriously, I don't get it. And I'm all about the walk breaks. I understand making them a regular part of your run (I've done that in my last 4 marathons and PR'd each time), and I definitely understand doing that when you're tired (that happened to me 3 times today). But when you've got less than a quarter mile to go? Why would you walk? Slow down if you need to, but come on! You're so close! Sara and I bobbed and weaved our way into the stadium as I continued to urge her to run as fast as she could. She did, giving herself a very strong finish for her first ever 10k!

Official Time: 52:30
Total Races: 6
YTD Race Miles: 85.9
YTD Total Miles: 502.3
Most Inspirational Moment: The first three finishers of the Men's Elite race, all from Team Ethiopia, crossing the finish line together, hands clasped and raised skyward in victory.

Cleveland Marathon 2010

"Why Cleveland?" a lot of people asked me. "Why not the Cincinnati Flying Pig?"

I had a few reasons for running the Cleveland Marathon. One, it was very cheap: cheap entry, cheap flight, and (thanks to my Dad) cheap room. Two, it was low and flat, at between 500 and 600 feet elevation. Three, I was running it for a girl: my friend JaCinda who, with a bunch of her Royal Oak MI running friends, was driving down for the race. Four, I would have a chance to visit a small, recently-renovated house on Kimberly Ave--the house where, in 1938, a young boy named Jerry Siegel conceived the idea of the greatest hero the world has ever known: Superman.

Monday I did take some time to visit the house. I got some great pictures of the front, which as I said was recently cleaned up and repaired and repainted thanks to author Brad Meltzer and the Ordinary People Change the World Foundation. I knocked on the door, but nobody was home. My kid sister says that was weird, that I wanted to look into some total stranger's house. She doesn't get it.

But before I made my little pilgrimage, I ran a marathon!

Sunday morning dawned with a clear blue sky and promises of a gorgeous but still cool day. This sounds nice, but the forecast for all of last week had promised mostly cloudy skies! So, that was BS. Instead of mostly cloudy, it was all sunny. Fortunately it was still plenty cool; and, as I'd learned on the course tour on Saturday, there would be plenty of coverage and shade as I ran. I will say this much for Cleveland, there's a lot of trees.

I started out feeling strong and very ready for a great race! I kept the 4:00 pacer in my sights (in the distance) for as long as I could, and covered the first 10k in 58:56. I was definitely on track for a 4:05 marathon, maybe even sub-4! I told myself this for the first 9 miles as the course wound through downtown and into one of the small neighborhoods to the west before heading back to downtown. I was pleasantly surprised at all the spectators out cheering--it almost seemed like every house in that neighborhood had someone cheering for us. Although, I do wish they'd had more diverse music tastes. Seemed like every house was blaring either "Beat It" or "Sweet Home Alabama."

At about mile 9 I developed a bit of an interesting problem. Thank to some frustrating headphone issues, I was running without my iPod and my Star Wars. I'd been doing okay without it so far, listening to the cheers in the neighborhoods, the music, and the conversations around me. But at this point, out of nowhere I started having serious self-doubt. Despite the fact that I was running a great race, I was just not feeling it. I have no idea what brought it on, or why; but I found myself contemplating turning off to follow the half marathon course to the finish and quitting. I knew I'd never be able to live with myself if I did that; but try as I might I could not shut out the voice that was telling me to give up. Making this worse was the fact that, as I approached that point, spectators were shouting "You're almost finished!" Of course they weren't talking to me, they were cheering for the people running the half marathon. I had to tune them out and focus on convincing myself that I did not want to quit.

In the end, of course, the part of me that knew I'd never live down giving up halfway through the race won out, and I kept going straight when the half marathoners turned right. Still, I wasn't entirely sure I'd made the right choice until I reached the halfway mark and glanced at my Garmin. According to that, I'd been running for 1 hour, 59 minutes, and 58 seconds! That did it. Reaching the halfway point in less than two hours gave me a huge burst of confidence that was sufficient to blast that negative self-talk right out of my head. Taking its place was a wild thought: could I possibly finish the marathon in less than four hours?

Of course, loyal readers (and my friends...and anyone who will listen) will know that my goal is to break four hours when I run the Chicago Marathon in October. But this new thought, that I could do it in Cleveland, led me to several interesting mental scenarios that kept me occupied for the next several miles as the course wound its way east, parallel to the shore of Lake Erie. If I broke 4 hours in Cleveland, I said, I could take it easy at Chicago, and just stroll along. Or, alternatively, I could throw myself even deeper into the water. I could take a page from my Olympic hopeful friend Jason's playbook and ramp up my mileage and increase my training intensity and hope to shave off another 55 minutes and qualify for Boston! I was so caught up in these visions that I'm afraid my pace started to get away from me. I wasn't sprinting, but I was definitely moving a bit faster than my pace band dictated. More than once I had to force myself to slow down a bit or risk burnout.

Miles 18 to 21 were in Rockefeller Park on the east side of town. This is a very pretty park that's very nicely shaded, with some fantastic gardens, and a very Central Park vibe to it. Unfortunately, in contrast to the neighborhoods where every resident seemed to be on his porch cheering, the park was virtually deserted. It was a good spot for some quiet contemplation, but I was needing some more distraction. I started to slow down, although I was still on pace to finish sub-4:05 as I climbed out of the Park and onto St Clair Ave. Then I was in for a VERY LONG 2 1/2 miles. St Clair is a major road into downtown, so there were businesses lining the wide street. Translation: very little shade. The sun, of course, had been shining all day, and now I was starting to feel it.

There was one amusing moment on St Clair. Several times during the race, spectators had shouted "Go Superman! Batman and Robin are just ahead of you!" I thought they were all just having some fun with me. But as I ran along St Clair, I saw two men ahead of me, one wearing a grey shirt and blue cape, and the other with a black cape, red shirt, green tights, and a mask. Batman and Robin! I caught up with them in short order and we laughed and hi-fived. I briefly toyed with the idea of hanging back with them so that we could all finish at the same time, but soon discarded that idea. In fact, I have to admit, as much as I was starting to hurt by that time (and I was), and as much as my pace had slipped, I didn't want the Dynamic Duo to beat me to the finish! Just as the thought of how I would feel if I'd quit got me through the halfway point, the thought of being beaten by those two pushed me through the final miles.

At about 25 1/2 miles, my Garmin died! When that happened in St George, I'd poured my frustration in to my run and picked up my speed. This time, I didn't have enough left to do that. Instead, I just slogged along at what felt like a snail's pace. I turned onto Lakeside for the last half mile. I could see the finish line in the distance...it seemed so very far away! I studiously looked anywhere but directly in front of me. At the 26 mile mark, I first heard and then saw JaCinda and some of her friends cheering for me on the sidewalk. Then I focused all my attention on the finish line. As I drew closer, I could see the finish line clock. It was slowly creeping up on 4:12:00. I'd been about 3 minutes behind the clock for the entire race, and even though my Garmin was dead and I was running slower, I figured I was still pretty close to that range. I managed a slight increase in speed, crossing when the clock read 4:11:54.

I made my way to the Live Results tent, where I was told my final time. He had to tell me three times, partly because I could barely believe it, and partly because I'd need the repetition to keep from forgetting. Four hours, eight minutes, and forty-nine seconds. Fantastic.

Official Time: 4:08:49
Total Races: 5
YTD Race Miles: 79.7
YTD Total Miles: 481.1
Seriously, United?: My flight out left from gate B92. My flight home arrived at gate B88. I've never had to walk across the entire concourse before, much less twice!