Lehigh Valley Half Marathon

Let me just start off with the fact that I do not recommend any of the following activities:

1. Going from months of complete sedentary life to finishing a half marathon.
2. Being an out-of-towner, showing up at a bar full of out-of-towners and drinking whatever beverages the cute bartender brings over your way, even if it is free of charge.
3. I should really emphasize item 2.
4. I should also add over here that item 2 should NEVER EVER happen on the day before a long run, like, a half marathon.
5. Item 2 should really NEVER EVER happen on the day before a half marathon ESPECIALLY if said half marathon is your first run of the season.

So basically, I showed up in Allentown, PA this past Saturday afternoon for the race packet pick up and expo so that I could run in the half on Sunday. After I was done with the race things, I went over to the Allentown Brew Works for a quick little lunch. I sat at the bar and order their pulled pork sandwich and asked the bartender for a beverage to go with. He thought their Pilsener would go well, so that was what I had ... on my own volition.

While I sat there, I watched the game (Mets vs Atlanta) and sent a few text messages over to H. He decided not to come with me this year, and this was my first race without him, so I was missing him a little.

Since it was still quiet at the restaurant, and being alone, the bartender gave me some company and threw a sample of their Wit over my way. I freakin' LOVED the Steelgaarden Wit. When this became known to the bartender, I received a few more glasses of the Wit.

After a little while, the ladies next to me had ordered a very pretty mixed drink - it was a vibrant shade of pink. Seeing my intrigue, the bartender gave me a bit of the pretty pink concoction - a watermelon martini. It was incredibly tasty.

By now, it was closing in on 4 o'clock, and I desperately needed some water. So after paying my tab, and having pinky swore that I would return for dinner (the Roadrunner Pasta had me all sorts of intrigued), I stumbled my way back to my hotel room.

And there I remained for the rest of the night. I eventually started to puke, and it basically didn't stop until well past midnight. Somewhere between drinking bottles and bottles of water and puking, I had managed to place a wake up call in the early morning. After five hours of sleep, I woke up with the headache and nausea entirely gone. I decided to run in the half just for the sake of finishing and to ignore my time entirely.

That was exactly what I did. I'm not going to mention my time here because it is incredibly slow, but considering the fact that I did not train, and having had the worst hang over I have EVER had ... the mere act of finishing 13.1 miles (and not being sick afterwards might I add) isn't too shabby.

And a note to the cute bartender - I'm so sorry for not coming back, though I tried my very best. The thing is ... the Porcelain God just would not let me leave his alter.

Philadelphia Marathon

Each time I go to Philadelphia with a lot of uncertainty, I leave that City with the uncertainty left behind. In 2006, I showed up at the Jefferson Hospital Half Marathon in Philadelphia after being thoroughly beaten by the hills of the Runner’s World Half Marathon in Allentown, PA (now known as the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon) just a few months prior. I officially declared that if I didn’t finish strong in Philly, then I would only run for my own enjoyment and bow out of these half marathon events.

After the Jefferson Half Marathon, I not only felt great, but I really believed that on that day, I could have finished a full marathon. I remember seeing the 10th and then the 11th mile marker after a mere blink of the eye. Not only was I without uncertainty after that race, but I signed up for my first marathon shortly thereafter.

I ended 2006 with the Marathon of the Palm Beaches. Ground temperatures had reached 90 degrees by 10 AM on that course, and nothing more than stubborn pride made me cross that finish line. In 2007, a return trip to Allentown was made, and I had to redeem myself by ripping those hills to shreds. With that item checked off my to-do list, a more daunting task was ahead of me - the Quebec Marathon. Although I did beat my Palm Beach time, I did require medical attention after stubborn pride delivered me, once again, to the finish line.

Discouraged, a little heart broken, and uncertain about myself as a marathon runner, I half heartedly attacked my already relaxed training schedule for the Philadelphia Marathon. I left a lot of things get in the way of my training as I skipped numerous tempo and speed sessions. I clung on to my distance runs and some of my strength training, but I would go without those at times as well.

I’m amazed by how calm I was the night before the race. It even featured an unfriendly discussion regarding my marital arrangements with my fiancé. The morning of the race, I was a little panicky. I was unsure about how many layers of clothing I needed, and what I should strip at the half way marker, which ultimately asks the question, “So, where should I pin down this freakin’ bib number?” When everything was finally set to go, I had 15 minutes to show up at the starting gates. And I found myself, a marathon runner, mixed in the gate for the half marathon. I eventually figured a way to the proper gate, and five minutes later, we were off and running.

Me just before I got lost amidst the half marathoners gate

Feeling a bit more optimistic after the start horn

Course Highlights

1. Near mile marker 5 in South Philly

We were running through a residential neighborhood and there was a hand written sign that said something to this effect –

Running 26.2 miles for a t-shirt and a soft pretzel??

I thought to myself, Wow, there’s a soft pretzel too? Bonus. And at that, I laughed out loud.

2. Near mile marker 7

This is part of the downtown area emerging from South Philly. There were a lot of locally owned mom & pop type stores. One of the stores is called Condom Kingdom, and it had a very elaborate store front with a huge sign above the entrance. A group of middle-aged mothers were really interested in the store, and decided to gather around for a picture. Low and behold, one out of the ten of them had packed a digital camera. Again, I laughed out loud, and so did the guy next to me.

3. Around mile marker 8

This is when the outermost layer got stripped – the water repellent windbreaker. I also opted to take off the gloves, but within seconds, had to retrieve them. Right before my little strip, one of the volunteers on a Segway had a malfunction. She was spinning in circles, her battery pack was in tangles, and a spectator was trying to help her out, but he only got further tangled into the Segway mess. That one got a quiet internal giggle. Those Segway things seem a bit silly to me, but it would be wrong to laugh at somebody else’s struggles. Bad karma while in the middle of running a marathon just didn’t seem like a smart thing to do.

4. Drexel Frat Houses around mile 9

I wasn’t a fan of frats until this marathon. These college kids were out bright and early, banging away at pots and pans on their porches. This one guy completely won my heart within 25 paces. He would use his wooden spoon and point at a cute girl running by, and say, “You, I love!” and bang away at his pot just to point again when another chick passes by. I, of course, laughed out loud at this, and so, of course, he pointed at me and threw out a “You too, I love!” before banging away.

5. Somewhere in the midst of the 10th and 11 mile … was a hill

It was mild hill, nothing to really complain about, but you did become aware of your quads and a slight increase in the heart rate. Then a sign emerged saying something about the last hill before fast track hos, with a super tiny 2 in between the h and the o. That one got a chuckle.

6. A little bit after the half marathon point

I was very happy to see my picture taking fiancé at this point because he had a Snickers Marathon Bar ready for me. Out of all the protein bars out there, I’m a fan of the Cliff and Luna Bars, but the ones by Snickers tend to last a bit longer. It probably has something to do with the preservatives, but one bar for every marathon that you run can’t be too bad.

And then the test appeared without a notice- miles 18 - 21.

This was by far the most difficult part of the course. We were heading out to Manayunk, PA, which did not offer much in terms of spectators or infrastructure along the way. It was just a long stretch of road on a cold, wet, rainy day. I didn’t even notice how miserable of a day it was until I was heading out of Philly. I tried to focus on my breathing, took a few sips of my Gaspari Size On from my CamelBak, nibbled on the Marathon Bar, and tried to let go of my fears. Eventually, as we started to cross over on to Main Street, a little laughter was just around the corner.

7. A beer stand prepared by the local neighborhood bar.

I, of course, abstained.

And then, we crossed over to Main Street Manayunk, and were greeted by Navy Veterans declaring the view that we were about to see by the waterfall is the most beautiful view that the entire marathon had to offer.

I do believe the man was quite accurate in his statement. A little while later, mile 19 was right there.

8. And a few staff members of Le Bus were handing out brownies to the runners at miles 19 and 21!

Admittedly, the circumstances may have had an impact on my assessment, but I swear that those were the best damn brownies I have ever had.


So, now came the home stretch. Armed with a belly full of Creatine (compliments of Gaspari Size On) and brownies, I was confident that crossing the finish line without the need of medical attention afterwards was entirely achievable. I checked my time, and it was even feasible for me to finish this 26.2 mile sucker in less than 5 hours. If I could just get my mind to work with me, I can EASILY get in by 4:45 / 4:50. The problem was that the way back into Philly was just as desolate as it was getting out. I could not conjure up any positive thoughts, even though I saw the miles winding down. Even at mile marker 23, I was still holding back. It was until I actually saw the Philadelphia Museum of Art well after the 25th mile marker that I snapped out of my funk and started to turn it on. I bolted after the 26th mile marker and had more than enough left to sprint it in.

I felt like I could have done maybe another 5 miles, but certainly at least another 2. I wish I had given it up earlier at 23 miles, and I kicked myself for not doing so … but I was smiling the whole time.

I did cross the finish line strong at 5:00. It was a PR. I know I will do better next time around, and I will eventually get to Boston. And quite possibly, by way of Philadelphia in 2008.

Québec Marathon des Deux Rives SSQ

Québec Marathon des Deux Rives SSQ completed on Sunday, August 26th in approximately 5:24 – sun poisoning type problem, IV drip and finishers medal included. I signed up for this race because it was featured in the January 2007 issue of Runner’s World as the 6th top “ten marathon experiences you should have in your lifetime.” The views, in fact, breath taking, and I’m likely to run this event again.


The course, though beautiful, is not to be taken lightly.

I remember Pacer Dave telling me at my first marathon in the Palm Beaches that the test of the marathon comes after mile 16, when you still have ten more to go, and the race for PR comes when you have five miles remaining. The clerks at the Running Room, the local running store in Quebec, where I purchased an extra pair of socks cautioned me about the course and to keep an eye on my pace. Because the first half to two thirds of the course is a gentle downhill slope, it may feel easy, but it is actually straining your quadriceps in a way that you wouldn’t really notice until later on.

I recalled these words of advice while stretching, and lining up at the start line. I was nervous and scared, but excited about the promising views. Expecting to hear a gun shot, my heart rate jolted into the beginning of the cardio zone with the firing of a canon. Yes, they fired a canon. Have you ever been within 20 yards of a canon being shot? It’s amazing how mentally focused you become, and the adrenaline rush is entirely unmatched.

Approximately 30 seconds after the cannon, the 5:30 pace crew were off and jogging. I noted the crowd that was around the pace setter, referred as the Pace Bunnies because the pace were written on pink bunny ears strapped on to their headbands. I made mental notes about their clothing so I would have some idea as to who I should try to keep up with should I ever lose my group.

As time wore on, I came across two girls and hung with them for a little while. We were rolling along at 10:20 per mile pace according to Garmin. I don’t recall their names, but the one in the white tank is a personal assistant to two lawyers, and the one in the black is in PR for Neiman Marcus in White Plains. It was PR girl’s birthday that weekend, and her gift to herself is a few days in Quebec, the marathon, to a spa day to cap it all off upon her return.

At some point while the three of us were running together, my Beau magically appeared with my waist pack with a bottle of Pure Vitargo and a change of socks. The girls asked me if he was my husband, and I felt obligated to say that he was. We had found our wedding bands one night after dinner in the old city. He fell in love with the concept of a titanium band after reading a story that a guy had to have his finger cut off to remove the band when he died. While window shopping after dinner, I found a display of wedding bands that were a bit darker than platinum. So we went in, and after an hour of looking through the cases and working with the salesgirl, we walked out with our wedding bands. He was so excited about the purchase that he insisted on looking at them while we sat at the Pub Saint-Alexandre for our post dinner drink. Well, from just looking at the bands, it proceeded to wearing the bands, and finally, to pretending that we are married for the duration of our stay in Quebec. Staying true to our little game of pretend, that was the only time that I have ever declared myself married. It was an odd feeling, and it felt like a lie despite the fact that we’ve been together for over seven years.

After a mile or two, the girl in the white tank eventually dropped off from us in search of a lost friend from a few miles back, and I eventually dropped off from PR girl because she was increasing her pace. I would have loved to cruise with her, but I was worried about my heart rate. It was approaching 80%, and we had only covered 11 miles. From then on, I was going at it solo, minding my heart rate and pace. I was enjoying the views and the glorious day, and a little annoyed at having chosen a short sleeve instead of a tank top for the race. It was rather chilly before the race started, but it was warming up quite a bit well before the canon shot.

I was worried about the hill at around mile 14 / 15, and the beginning of the real test upon my approach. It was in fact, everything that I had feared. The climb was steep and curved. It wasn’t too long of a climb, but it was long enough. The clerks words came to haunt me as I ascended the hill – my quads were hurting in a way that I have never felt before. I’m accustomed to the pain associated with an uphill fight, but I understood the pain that comes with downhill running. Within a minute of this ascension, I felt the underside of my quads near the bone burning up, along with the exterior of my calves. It was such an unusual feeling. Then, as Pacer Dave had advised however long ago, the test was about to begin.

The sun was now thoroughly beating down, and we were heading into the major roadways that are without any sort of shade. I began seeing some of the faster members of the 5:30 pace group, and tried to keep pace with them. By mile 18, I was having hard time ignoring the headache that had been developing since the hill, so I started walking. I walked for a mile, and decided to sit down to change my socks. My bottle was nearly empty, and I started to drink Gatorade at the water stations.

After the sock change, I tried to start the running again, but it was more of sputtering jog than an actual run. I decided to give it a true valiant go when there was five miles remaining, but that effort didn’t last too long on account of the headache and a burning sensation that was running along my torso. The 5:30 pace group had passed me by, but the Pace Bunny was still nowhere in sight. Finally, with two miles remaining, I returned to my jogging pace that eventually evolved into my running pace as I approached my last mile.

My head was on the verge of exploding as I crossed the finish line, but I did finish strong. Normally, this is where the story would end, but in this instance, the story does go on.

I was incredibly uncomfortable, and all I wanted was a cab ride back to the hotel. Because my head was hurting so badly, I could only speak in a whisper, which was a problem because the years of high volume heavy metal has rendered my Beau’s hearing equal to that of a ninety year old. He thought that there was something wrong with my calves each time I asked for a cab. I was so frustrated and the headache was so severe that I nearly started to cry. Eventually, he caught on to my need for a cab, so he ran off to figure out a way to catch one that didn’t require me to walk several blocks out into the area that wasn’t closed off. While he was out searching, I sat under a tree trying to relax and get myself to feel better. There was a woman walking around me who was concerned about my well being. I insisted that I was fine, but after a couple of minutes, two French Canadian male medics came over to me. They basically didn’t speak English, and given my weak whispers of protests, they wrapped two different sorts of blood pressure equipment on me, and pricked my finger for a blood sugar test. Apparently, 31 units of whatever measurement the test uses is low, so a wheelchair came out and I was promptly shipped off to the medical tent.

There, I was given a cup of 7 Up since they were completely out of Gatorade. Two seconds after a tiny sip of soda, and I threw up more stuff than I thought I had in me. This whole while, I had kept my eyes shut to block out the sunlight that made me headache ever worse. I had no idea I had the attention of the entire medical staff. With eyes shut, they gave me an IV drip, which made me feel better within seconds though the headache persisted. I had been cold ever since I crossed the finish line, but I started to shake uncontrollably from the chill. This is when I started to turn blue, apparently. One of the medics that had carted me off into the tent kept asking me, calmly, “Madame? Are you okay?” I replied in my whisper that I was okay, but my Beau started to panic - HONEY! Open your eyes! Honey? Just open your eyes. Your turning blue and you look like death!

So for his benefit, I opened the eyes, and the headache really started to pound away. Eventually, I felt that I would be able to walk a few blocks to catch a cab as long as I kept my eyes closed. The medics was still concerned and gave us directions to the area hospital should my problems worsen in anyway. We thanked them, caught a cab, and hobbled off.

I was really hoping that I would be able to enjoy that one nice day of our stay in Quebec, but that didn’t really happen. I showered and slept for a few hours. It was well past sunset before I was ready to be out and about again.

That night, we celebrated crossing the finish line at Le Patriarche. That was where PR girl had her birthday dinner, and she highly recommended the place. It was, in fact, supremely tasty.

All said and told, it wasn’t a terrible marathon. Afterall, I did finish.

Lehigh Valley Half Marathon - The Second Try

I have been very nervous and anxious for this race. I was hoping to match my time in Philly, which would be quite an accomplishment given the topography of this course compared to Philly's flatness. Allentown has three rolling hills right before mile 9, a bunch of random slower inclines and declines, and one sever climb towards the track stadium at the end of the race. Given my recent toe problem, I restricted myself to endurance strength training with only an occasional treadmill run. I had to give up my goal and just try to beat last year's time, which I did.

Last year, I crossed the finish line at 2:21 and my chipped time was 2:19. This year, I crossed the finish at 2:12, and my chipped time was 2:09:53.

My Beau has been very supportive through this whole endeavor. All of yesterday while I was freaking internally, he was coming up with some of the wittiest things that I have ever heard from him, such as ...

"You know your old when your shits smell like death. Mine have a healthy, robust smell."

At the Pasta Dinner, Dottie Lessard-O’Connor spoke about her gruelling work outs in preparation for her lung transplant, and the importance of following your dreams. My Beau's comment - "Right now, my dreams are covered with extra cheese."

The race itself wasn't as bad as I had feared. I just remembered how awful I felt last year, but I believe I was better prepared this year. I knew the tricky parts of the course (where the climbs are, approximately when the gravel part ends, where the finish line ACTUALLY is, things like that) and I have an easier time dealing with hills now (thanks Janet!), so I had some semblance of a game plan.

7:58 AM Near the Starting Line

I was in the pack with the 2:10 Pace Setter for the majority of the run. She did a great job at maintaining perfect pace, and I told her so. I decided to break away around mile 7, which is the flat part of the course right before the hills because I thought I would be better off executing my own game plan for the rolling hills. Trying to maintain a steady pace up and down those suckers would probably be harder for me than dealing with it on my own terms.

So I approached the steep climbs with a tightened core, extreme control of the body, and I just powered through the climb with my legs - this maximizes efficiency in exerting all force forward, but it spiked my heart rate. I engaged in an active recovery on the declines by maintaining torso control and letting the legs loose. My heart rate fell slightly and I didn't have to give up my slightly accelerated pace. The tough part of executing this plan were the older ladies that blocked the path on the decline. They were afraid of falling, so they actually slowed down at the declines. There was this one particular pack composed of shorter ladies, and since their center of gravity is already pretty low, they seemed more precarious holding themselves back. They looked less balanced and I believe they would have better off if they had relaxed a little and followed momentum a bit. Then again, who am I to say what's right for them; fear sometimes can be a wise guide. In any case, they impeded my active recovery strategy, and I was annoyed.

Once the rolling hills were over, I regrouped and slowed down a bit for more of a recovery because I wanted to finish "like a rock star," as Dottie had put it. I saw the pace setter pass me a mile or two after the hills at a water station around mile 10, but I kept an eye on her pack. I was making plans to meet up with her at mile 12, when my Beau showed up and started to run next to me to take pictures. Yes, it was obnoxious. It was impossible to smile and chat with the boy while coming up with and simultaneously execute a strategy to take down the pace setter. He eventually left me alone, and I had a mile to meet and beat my intended pace.

These pictures are the product of my Beau's annoyance.

So I just picked up the tempo and kept at it through that last climb to the stadium. That climb was a nightmare and a half, and there was another half a mile of flat road (not a decline) before the finish line. It took a lot of will to turn it up after that last climb, but I did, and I passed the pace setter around this juncture.

I tried my best to sprint it in, but it felt like a slow motion sprint. My legs and feet were not being cooperative at all. It was worth it though, beating last year's time by nearly ten minutes, not feeling like death, and actually parttaking in some of the post race food. There were chocolate chip muffin tops!

After crossing the Finish Line, and before getting my eat on

Overall, I am pretty pleased given the circumstances. And this officially marks the beginning of my running season.

Races of 2006 ... A Recap

Runner's World Half Marathon

Allentown, Pennsylvania on April 29, 2006
2:19 Finish Time

I felt like death, and I looked like death too. Right after the race I thought that the sport of running was too hard, and maybe I wasn't cut out for it. My ambitions for a full marathon was greatly impaired, but I was glad that I was able to finish my first half. A minute later I thought it wouldn't hurt to give it another try, and something told me that things would only get easier.

I'm glad that I made that decision.

Jefferson Hospital Half Marathon

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on September 17, 2006

2:06 Finish Time

This is by far my proudest achievement this year. I felt great after the race, and I knew that a marathon was totally within my reach. Although I have to admit around mile 11, I thought that maybe I would be done with running (I was starting to feel a bit tired, and a little bored), but by the time I crossed the finish line ... everything changed. Thoughts of doing a full marathon before year end pounded my head, and once I had the blessing of Goddess Divine and the Spin Crew, I was set on that next goal.

Marathon of the Palm Beaches

West Palm Beach, Florida on December 3, 2006

5:36 Finish Time

This picture was taken before the heat stroke. It was a great run until mile 15, and by mile 20 I was walking. I wanted to finish at 4:30 or earlier, but the 90 degree weather set me back by an hour. It was wretched, painful, and my Beau told me that I was never to run another marathon again. If Allentown taught me one thing, it's always give a challenge a second chance. With that said, Marathon des Deux Rives SSQ-Lévis/Québec - here I come ... and I will finish during the 4th hour.

Marathon of the Palm Beaches

First and Foremost - A Disclosure

It was unseasonably hot on Sunday, December 3rd. It had been unseasonably cool during the week, and it peaked to 87 degrees, but the conditions along Flagler Drive (a long stretch of unshaded black top road adjacent to the ocean) was about 90 degrees. No world records or PRs were set among the Elite Runners (ie the Kenyans), and even they had problems.

Basically, the longer you were out there, the more problems you were likely to encounter due to the longer exposure with the sun and heat. The people that came in by 9 AM were fine. The people who planned on showing up some time after the 3 hour mark were the ones with the problems, and that includes myself.

My Pace-Setter (Dave - goal time 4:30) is a seasoned runner having completed about 20 marathons, which includes 6 ultras (so its more like 26 marathons), got sick after the second hour or so, dropped his placard and revoked his leadership.

I ran past a guy lieing on the sidewalk with EMT trying to hook him up to an IV despite his protests involving a sentence that was something like "I'm fine, just a little dizzy."

There were scores of people under the medical tent at the finish line.

With that said, I will now go into detail.

For photos, go to this site - http://www.flickr.com/photos/overpronator/sets/72157594362778936/

*****

It was a warm and dark at 6 AM, and we were corralled by our goal time as opposed to our race numbers. We saw the sun rise along Flagler Drive over the ocean around 7 AM ... half an hour into our race, and one optimistic fellow in a group near mine yelled, "Only 24 miles to go!" People cheered as the para-marthoners zipped by, and we cheered a little bit louder for this one man without legs sitting on something like a skateboard and propelling himself forward with his fists covered in hockey gloves.

I was right behind Pacer Dave, and we felt confident about finishing the race by 11 AM. The 10:20-ish pace was leisurely, and my heart rate stayed at 80% (160 beats per minute). The homes we passed by after Flagler Drive were things of beauty, and the architecture were various. New England style mansions with a brick facade and wrought iron fencing would sit proudly next to a stucco neo-Gothic castle-like structure of a pseudo Italian influence - wrought iron spiral stairwell wrapped around a tower included. The display of wealth were at times completely without reservation or inhibition of any kind.

Around mile 8 I had lost my pace group - Pacer Dave would speed up before water station to buy a few seconds to spend drinking the water before starting off again with the group ... on time and on pace. I figured out how to double cup (one cup in each hand) and maintain a slow stride while drinking, so I found myself a bit ahead at times. By mile 8, and I was swept up by a crowd, and I maintained the 80% heart rate at 10 minutes a mile, so I was a bit ahead of my pace group. Admittedly, I was caught up with the half marathoners who were excited about being close to done, which may have affected my sensibilities.

After a few water stations, I found Dave again, and rejoined the group. Then, it happened. We had emerged from the shaded residential streets, came back on Flagler Drive, and crossed the half way mark. We lost the majority of the running population, and it was getting HOT. With just a few people within my group trailing on, the visual realization of what was to come was mentally disabling. I tried to count on the things that I had going for me - I was VERY hydrated, my legs weren't hurting, and I had a bottle and a half of Pedalyte in my system to burn. I knew that I would be able to finish, but just not with Pacer Dave due to the heat. So my group was way ahead, and I was trotting behind under the hot hot Floridian sun above me, and the hot black top under me. I accepted that things might become difficult when I realized the puddles that were pooling in my shoes from water showers ala sprinklers and volunteers of the past hour had completely evaporated within 15 minutes. If that didn't spell trouble, then there were more signs to come.

Along Flagler Drive, I think I may have looked like death. A cop was trailing me for a couple of miles, and kept on asking my if I needed help. I looked at my heart rate ... 83% ... at a pace that is far from 10 minutes per mile. I gave him a nod, and he wished me luck and looped back. Sign of Trouble #2.

Eventually, we crossed into another residential neighborhood. This one less opulent, and a bit more Floridian. Capes and ranch style homes of the northeast with stucco exteriors, and roofing materials that are not the type I'm acquainted with. Some permanent trailers were thrown into the mix, and an inflatable snowball was anchored down as a lawn ornament. Then I saw him. A muscular black man, sprawled out on his back with an ambulance behind, and an EMT guy trying to give him an IV. Sign of Trouble #3.

The headache came on some time thereafter. The nausea followed. We are looking at mile 18. I just kept on going, thinking that under no circumstances can allow myself to throw up because my Beau would NEVER allow me to run another marathon again ... and I was already making plans for redemption.

At an unofficial water station, the people advertised beer. This wasn't unusual. Some of the residential supporters were offering water and Scotch, but without the Scotch. One group was dishing out water and vodka, but without the vodka. So I figured that this was like one of the others. I grabbed just one cup this time (I only double cup at official stations), felt a pleasant icy coldness, downed a gulp ... and realized ... it was in fact beer. I said thank you, gave the crew a thumbs up, but I went into a mental panic. Will the beer depart some type of chemical imbalance in my system that's a mix of Sport Jelly Bean, water, andGatorade? Will it suck up all the water and turn into something else entirely and cause my to fail? Okay, so I'm closing in on mile 20, will I have to call it quits NOW? Stupid, stupid beer ... contaminating the fragile system that's to carry me to the finish line. My only concession in case I do punk out is my second go at this excruciating physical test that is a marathon.

Somewhere around my planning for my second marathon, I came across Pacer Dave ... without his placard. Sign of Trouble #4. He said that he was really sick, and he was planning on run / walking it to the finish. He said that it was heat stroke, and that it's about 90 on the course.

This coming from the man on his 20th or so marathon, who trains with world class athletes, and finished about 6 ultra-marathons. This man ... this athlete ... this Ultra-marathoner ... is punking out. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSE TO DO NOW?

Well, I walked. From the 20th mile all the way till the 25th mile, I walked. The heat stroke started to settle in. The headache, the nausea, and the occasional wave of cold passed by me. Other marathoners ... all of whom are from Florida, complained about the heat. I learned that they have never experienced heat of this sort during their training at this time of year. All of them walked. So ... with a bit of shame, and plans for a second marathon, I walked. My heart rate dropped to 106 beats per minute (about 50%), and I felt wretched.

Sign of Trouble #5 - a flock of hawks circling the start / finish as I crossed over the 21st mile. I think they were waiting to feast on marathon carcass - it was just that scary and ominous. With that thought, I abandoned whatever lingering sentiment I had to continue running in spite of my buzzing Garmin Forerunner.

Around 25.75 I started to run again. I needed to look good for the camera after all. So I ran it in. The medical tent was full of people. My Beau was angry at me. He had wanted to go find me, yell at me for being stupid, and shove me into an ambulance, or in the very least, get some medical attention.

The thing is, I wanted to puke in private ... and I had failed at that. We went on the trolley to take us back to the pick-up for the shuttle back to the hotel. Apparently, I had scandalized a bunch of tourists who witness my puking out the side of the trolley. It was watery pink mixture of fruit punch Sport jelly and water. I puked again at the pick-up location a few times. By the time we got back, I had nothing left.

My finish time was 5:36, I placed 521 out of 615. I will be redeemed ... next year.

Runners World 1/2 Marathon

I finished my first half marathon in Allentown, PA on Sunday, April 30th. It was the perfect day and the run was the most beautiful one I have ever done. My goal was to complete the race just under or near two hours, but I had expected a much flatter course. The first part of the course was mostly flat and downhill at parts, but after the first 10K, there were some severe changes in the topography.

I crossed the finish line 2 hours and 21 minutes after the race started, but my actual finish time was 2 hours and 19 minutes because it took me a couple of minutes to cross the start line. My time for the 10K (6.2 miles) was 60 minutes exactly, which was my target pace for the whole race. Then the hills showed up. My overall average time came out to be 10:41 per mile, which means my average time after the 10K was around 11:30 per mile. Yes, it was THAT bumpy. At one point around the 9th mile, I heard water and prayed for some type of a man-made fountain, but no ... it was a waterfall.

It seemed like the 11th mile marker was never going to show up, but it did about 100 yards before I was going to call it quits. Then they did something REALLY evil - they didn't post the 12th mile mark. At that point, the volunteers and policemen were thinning out, so I was a little panicky. Thankfully, a random guy cheering people on from the side of the road informed us that we only had a quarter of a mile left. I then felt cheated because I had been conserving energy when I should have been burning it up for a stronger finish.

Oh well, there's always next year for redemption ... and the Philly half-marathon in September.

Jefferson Hospital Distance Run

This is me nearing the finish line at the Philadelphia half marathon on Sunday September 17, 2006.

The race itself was pretty good. The Allentown was better in that there was less herding (I totally felt like cattle during the start, and sweating cattle at the end of this one), and Allentown had pace setters, and the water stations was a bit more logical and evenly distributed. Philly also didn't offer gel-packs at the midpoint station, but the food was located right at the finish line, which is a better arrangement than Allentown where the food was located about a quarter of a mile UPHILL on an insane grade from the finish line.

The start time for the Elite Runners (a whole bunch was from Kenya) was at 7:45 AM. The Elites had their own isolated area to warm up, which was blocked off from the rest of the record breaking crowd of 13,045 runners. When you saw them warm up, they actually looked like an elite breed of runners. They had virtually no body fat on them, their form looked tight, effortless, and a little weird - somewhat antelope-like. I wish I could have taken some pictures of them, but I only had a little bit of time to be herded into my corral, and I got lost on the way - the line into the corrals was somewhat merged with the lines for the Johnny-on-the-Spot-s.

I was pretty pleased with my performance, even though I was nowhere close to my target range (8:30 – 9:00 minutes per mile) or my goal time (anything sub 2:00:00). I finished in 2:06:03 and my overall average pace was 9:34 minutes per mile. My pace for the first 5 k (3.1 miles) was exactly 10 minutes per mile, and decreased to 9:49 by the 10 K mark, and 9:42 by the 10 mile mark. I felt great after the run, I didn’t even notice any inclines (although I had been warned about them and I overheard a few runners complain about it later), and I was able to do the mile walk back to the hotel for a shower. This is probably because I kept my heart rate in check - I stayed in the higher end of the aerobic zone (between 75% and 85% of my maximum) for the entire race, until the last 2 minutes when I decided to sprint for the finish.



The gear that carried me across the finish includes the following:

Garmin Forerunner 305 .. aka Patrick
It was a present ... Cost Unknown

Best running buddy EVER. He tells your heart rate, average speed and distance covered. Patrick kept me on track by helping me budget my exertion level. After the race, I downloaded all the data collected from him, and I was able to produce the chart from above. The GPS feature also provides a map information of the course.

Ironman Triathlon Sunglasses
Target $19.99

The shatter-proof, polarized, anti-fog, anti-slip, UVA/UVB protected $20 sunglasses from Target were a GREAT idea for city running. Not only does it reduce facial tension (every little bit of relaxation helps when you're putting yourself under physical stress), but it also minimizes the impact of city blindness. Coming out from the shadows of a tall building into direct sunlight makes you lose of few seconds of clear vision, which can be really bad when there's concrete sidewalks and landscaped medians on the road. One guy COMPLETELY wiped out because of it ... and took a few purple pansies with him.

Under Armour Shirt
Dick's Sporting Goods $38

There was a little chafing around the neck, but it performed well in wicking the sweat away.

Nike Tempo Track Shorts
Dick's Sporting Goods $28

I have 5 pairs of these things. Built in briefs are wedgy proof, and they do they're best in staying dry, or in my case, they disperse the sweat evenly through out.

Asics Gel Kayano VII
Princeton Running Company $135

Love them. Great for those of us who overpronate mildly and looking for a well cushioned ride.

Toshikazu Kayano and Asics Project Team - Cheers to you! What you created is simply brilliant.

Wigwam Socks
Forgot to pay for them at the Expo

Best socks ever. No blisters, no toe wedgies, and offered additional cushioning. I'm totally stocking up the next time I see these suckers around ... and I fully intend on paying for them.