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| My medal and pre-race notes. |
Earlier today I finished the Dublin marathon. I had trained (reasonably) well for it and felt I should be able to come in well under four hours. But things didn't work out that way and now I am vacillating between "I hate running, and marathons in particular" and "Dang it, now I have to do it again next year to beat four hours."
This was my first race ever where they had pacers. These were runners who would run the marathon at a certain speed and ensure that they come in just a few seconds before some fixed time. They carried backpacks with flags sticking out of them with the goal time printed on them.
My plan was to follow the 3 hour and 45 minute group as long as I could and not let the 4 hour crowd pass me. That might have been a little bit ambitious, but I felt it was a reasonable strategy. My training in recent months had gone OK, and my training plan predicted a 3:35:31 race. I knew I could not do that, but thought 3:45 might be possible and in the worst case I fall back and cross the finish line just under four hours.
14,350 people registered. I have never taken part in an event this large. By the time I showed up for my wave, the corral was packed. I was about 30 yards behind my pacers. Then the whole group moved to the start line and I was about 100 yards behind them. For the first two miles I didn't see them anymore and it was hard to catch up. There were runners everywhere and where the streets narrowed it was impossible to pass. It was easier on the wide boulevards, but even there you had to time your steps, wait for an opening, and squeeze through. After two miles I caught a glimpse of their flags going around a corner in the distance. It took me another four miles to catch up. When I did, I was able to slow down a little, but it seems a lot of people wanted to finish this marathon in 3:45. The space around the pacers was packed.
At eight miles I did an assessment. I had to work at it, but it was not impossible for me to keep up with the pacers. I was careful no to get ahead of them because I knew that going even faster would kill me in the last third of the run. Things were going great. I was dreaming of taking off near the end and leaving the pacers behind, and happy thinking that even if I had to slow down to a more comfortable pace, I had plenty of space in front of the 4:00 group.
When I run, something always hurts. This time it was the ball of my right foot just behind the big toe. But adrenalin was flowing, I was passing people, and I kept with my pacers. In hindsight, I should have paid attention to this pain. By the time I got home, it was a big, huge, bloody blister. I say four inches in diameter. Lee Ann thinks it is less than that; more the size of a grape. Still large and very painful, though. I haven't had a blister that size in decades, and I'm not sure why I got it. I worn these socks many times. The shoes are fairly new, but I used them in training for some short and medium runs and one twenty miler.
While I was ignoring my foot, I think my subconscious was adjusting my gait to minimize the pain. At mile 14 immense pain shut through the back of my right upper leg and I had to stop. Standing hurt; walking hurt; a lot. I stretched and walked for a bit. Then I tried a light jog, dropped back to walking, and tried again. By mile 16 I was able to do a light jog, but my leg hurt, and every time I put my right food down onto that blister I saw stars. I'm used to things not going well in races, but this was the fastest transition from feeling great to completely miserable I have ever had.
I kept working on my "speed" and after a few more miles things improved a little, but the pain in my foot stayed for the rest of the race. My running form was not good and pretty soon pretty much everything hurt.
I had still a little bit of hope to make four hours. I promised myself that I would never, ever have to run another marathon, if I finished this one below that mark. Then, four miles before the finish line, 4:00 pacers and a million other runners passed me. That was a horrible feeling and I slowed down even more. From that point on, it was just about finishing the damn thing.
I came in just under 4:10. According to the results posted so far this puts me in the first half overall, first half of men, and first half of my age group. I'm happy about that. I beat more than 7,000 people plus all the ones who didn't participate. But it is still disappointing and it came at a price. I haven't been in this much pain for a long time. It's hard to judge, but this might have been worse than the Ironman last year.
I limped through the finish line and could only shuffle to the bag drop and the rendezvous point where Lee Ann was waiting. Everything hurt, I was dizzy, and I had to sit down for a while before I could exit the race finish area. It was fairly cold, but until now that was no problem. Now that I could not move fast enough anymore to keep myself warm, I was beginning to shiver and started to worry about hypothermia. It seems it took for ever, but we finally made it to the car, cranked up the heat and eventually got home.
Every time I do one of these races I get reminded that I actually don't care much for running and certainly not at the speed and distance these events require. I do it so I can eat what I like. I try to eat healthy, but when something is good I tend to eat too much of it. And once in a while I can't resist a magic muffin. A day like today easily burns the calories of several of those ;-)
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| Mgic muffins for sale at the local Spar. |
