So, let’s answer a few questions?
After you crossed the finish line, what happened? What did you do? How did you feel?
Tired, but you probably knew that. J In all seriousness, the 26.2 was not nearly as punishing as the additional 1 mile walk UPHILL on West Drive to the UPS truck to pick up my bag. It was 42 degrees, I stopped sweating at 22mi and was full-on teeth chattering and shivering. I was thankful for the mylar wrap, but it was wholly insufficient as my body stopped regulating temperature and was just pissed off. After devouring whatever food/drink they gave us while we staggered like boxers in line, I thought about jumping into the ambulance for warmth, but it was occupied. I finally made it to the truck and threw on warm clothes. I received a ton of congratulations, and for the life of me could not figure out how strangers knew I just raced … ummm, I forgot about the medal around my neck. The neurons stopped firing somewhere in the Bronx. Next, I walked thru CP to meet my family and we took one of the better pics ever … the girls were all smiling:
My ING NYC Marathon pace setters.
On the walk home, my wife kept asking me, “What do you want to do now that it’s over?” [more on this in a minute] Once we returned home, I forced Endurox down my throat and ate the food of champions … McDonald’s. Horrible, I know. But I had no interest in food at this point. I showered, dressed and left to celebrate with CPTC at a local pub. Of course, I couldn’t get a taxi so I had to actually sprint to catch the bus as it was pulling off … so ridiculous.
Adrenaline was still coursing thru my veins as I went to sleep at 9:30pm and awoke (for good) at 3am. Awful. At this point, the first signs of soreness hit me. Nothing terrible, but not great given that I always get delayed soreness 48 hours after a hard workout. Meaning, if the Monday after was bad, Tuesday would be crippling. As it turned out, Monday my quads were absolutely shredded. I wobbled around like an egg for about 4 miles to get any kind of circulation going. I was a mess. Today, I’m 50% better. I can walk slowly and you would not otherwise know I ran a marathon, unless you ran one too. The only trouble spot is the side of my right heal, which I’m icing.
What did you learn about the experience?
I’ve adjusted expectations so many times for this thing, it’s honestly difficult to benchmark what I set out to do vs. what I internalized during training and the race. Some folks are verbal learners. Others are visual. Still others are experiential or some combination of the three. I tend to be on the extreme visual and experiential side. According to everyone except my now famous wife, I’m a decent listener, but I internalize only after seeing and doing. What does this mean for the marathon? I had a tremendous training cycle and built a great base. More importantly, I was 100% physically healthy as I crossed the start line. However, mentally, I was probably at 60-70% of what was required. I believed I did all that I was capable of doing to physically tackle the distance, but significant doubt remained whether I would actually cross the finish line. As a CPTC legend (51 marathons, 53 years old and still a sub-3:00 marathoner) told me in the aftermath, “26.2 miles is a long f***** way.” Many folks reminded me that the halfway point is at 20 miles. I disagree. There is no halfway point. There is the start and then the finish. That’s it. Contrary to the view of the enthusiastic fans, I didn’t feel like I was going to “make it” until I crossed that line. The point is that I was carrying a burden that hung on my back like a gorilla … not a sense of doom or impending failure, but a nagging “Can I really do this?” That pressure was increased by the reputation and visibility of our club. Wearing the CPTC singlet brings a tremendous amount of pride (certainly to me) and lofty expectations. A DNF or walking would have been horrendous and unthinkable. Frankly, since August 2009 (when I started this blog), my entire existence has been 11.7.2010. I had a picture of the finish line on my phone and as laptop wallpaper. I even had 11.7.2010 as the screen saver at work. That’s motivating and, in hindsight, very dangerous and unhealthy. In the days before the race, teammates asked me, “So what are your plans after the marathon? Brunch? Family dinner?” My wife basically asked the same thing on the walk home. Hmmm. Since August 2009, I never visualized life in ANY form after 11.7.2010. I had no idea what post-marathon life would be like. Now that, my friends, is tunnel vision. Not good.
Any lessons learned?
Most competitive marathoners, including the elites, employ a bottoms-up approach to training and racing. They would start with say, 1500m, work their way up to 5k and then 10k, etc. Like most “bucket list” folks, I went for the brass ring and tried to hit the projected times to prove that I could achieve a certain time in the marathon. That’s just not how it should be done. At some point in 2010 (with the help of teammates and coaching), the light went on and I realized, that to run a great marathon, you need to master the shorter distances first. Also, along the way, I realized that I’m not too bad on the track either. The irony is compelling here … I started out as hopeful marathoner … became an ok runner … and completed an ok marathon. A lesson for the kids out there … crush, not run, but really crush a few 10k’s before you stick your neck out on the most challenging course among the 5 marathon majors. A number of folks commented how hard I worked. Relative to “bucket list” folks, sure … I put 55-60 mpw for 4 months. However, when I joined CPTC, I stopped being a “bucket list” guy and started laying the foundation to becoming a runner. With no base, I tried to jam in 2 years worth of required work into 10 months to achieve a fairly aggressive goal (3:30, 3:20 debut). That is just too much to ask too soon on too difficult a course. That said, I still finished 8,181st out of 44,829 or among the top 20%, which does not suck for an old guy making his debut who completely blew up in the final 10k. Funny, when I get away from my teammates (who I love) and mention “debut” and “3:42,” my non-CPTC friends nearly pass out with praise. Talented group I run with … btw our top guy placed 24th with a 2:25, in his debut. A 2:28 debut from another guy with who had a pinched nerve in his foot after mile 1.
What’s next?
- No running this week. I may start shuffling again on Saturday.
- 4-week recovery, building up from 3 days a week to maybe 4 days.
- Press the delete button on 2010 and anything before it. Not a typo in that previous sentence. I’m not using 3:42 as the benchmark for my next marathon (other than stating the obvious – it is waaaaay too much time on your feet – more on this in a bit) or any other past performance. Notice that race results and PRs are gone from this blog. I’m starting over. Complete reset. When I fully recover and I rejoin my teammates indoors in mid-December, I intend to go out with the fastest group I can without literally passing out and thrash. I’m not anchoring myself anymore. Whether coach says 3k or 5k pace, I’m going out harder. The only way you run a fast 5k or 10k is to run much faster than both. Same deal with tempos. More hill sprints and bridge work on my own. And when I start the next training cycle, no more “easy” runs, per se. Easy means warming up properly, and then join up with the A group and run at their “easy pace” i.e., 7:15-30s. In time, that will become easy to me. What will really change is the emphasis on distance. In the “off season,” 30-35 mpw at high intensity with 2-3 rest days is moving the ball further down field than 45 mpw at slower pace. I’m blowing up my training program completely. More on this in the future.
- In keeping with the speed theme, I will not be running 26.2 in 2011. I’m giving myself at least 12 months of complete focus on short distance … save for 1-2 target HMs (not sure which or when yet). Regarding the next marathon, it’s very early in the aftermath of NYC, but I’m thinking either Houston or Miami in January 2012. Houston might be fun as it’s a completely different scene 6,000 runners vs. 45,000. I might be able to meet up with See Jess Run, too. Miami is even smaller <3,000 finishers. The timing is great because I can start training in the fall along with the crews getting ready for (2011) New York, Philly and Boston, recover in time for Spring/Summer racing season and still leave myself open to do NYC 2012 in November.
In total, I feel good. Happy with how much I pushed myself and given all of the lessons learned, I can live with the result. In time, I will savor what I just did, but it is still too fresh. That said, I can now turn the page and start over.
I may now be “a marathoner”, but I just started becoming a runner.