Thoughts on Thirteen-Point-One

Random thoughts from an hour and a half of running....

5:00am: Alarm. Coffee. ‘Submarine’ shower. Then force myself to eat a bagel with peanut butter and Nutella, really sick of carbs by this time. Also trying to down some water at least an hour before the race to ward off hyponatremia (it's a big word, Google it).

5:50am: My support crew, Jennie and Ritter, in the car, the heater turned way up, and the wheels are rolling to RFK Stadium.

6:25am: Hit RFK Lot 8 exit, traffic is backed up for miles on the freeway; this is where my stress hits. 35 minutes to the gun, and we’re in bumper-to-bumper traffic. This is also where poor race organization shows; for soccer games at RFK, there are two lanes of traffic into the parking lot, funneling thousands of fans into the lot with relative ease. The race organizer had just a single lane in, choking off the lot’s entrance and leaving thousands of runners stressing in their cars.

6:45am: Finally enter Lot 8 and cars are already parking illegally, in aisles, on grass, just complete chaos. I pull in the grass at the very end of the lot and make a break for the closest portojohn (darn you morning hydration!)…the line is crazy and loudspeaker announces the second call to the starting line. Thankfully, I have years of tailgating experience at this stadium and know all the overgrown spots on the Anacostia River bank; winning.

6:50am: I run the half-mile to the starting line. More poor organization at the start; bathroom lines create bottlenecks of lines and the corral system funnels me into a tight channel, there’s no way I’m getting to corral #2 through 15,000 runners. No worries, I hop the spectator railing, make my way up the side, and hop another Jersey barrier into my orange-tagged corral.

6:55am: Stretch out, toss my extra shirt on the charity stack, starting to feel like the race organizer slept in. There are no pacers with flags for the half marathon in the corrals around me, one full marathon pace flag was hand-written and unreadable, and I see the pace flags for 3:10, 3:15, and 3:20 standing together in corral 3. I have my cheapo watch, guess I can keep on pace based on mile markers.

7:00am: The mayor speaks, and gets booed heartily. Not the reception he was hoping for this morning.

7:10am: 15,000 runners surge slowly towards the line. Get a few jumps in the legs, feel the timing mat under my feet, and give a thumbs-up to the overhead WUSA9 television camera. Let’s do this.

MILE 0: Trying not to get caught up in the speed, trying to maintain pace. Swiveling my head left and right to find gaps to shoot through and avoid traffic. See my support crew and give a wave to the wife…Ritter looks confused.

MILE 0.5: Quickly realize DC doesn’t have the nicest streets to run on. Chunks of blacktop and potholes are a common threat, and more surprising are the speed humps. Unmarked on the pavement, I consistently find myself being jolted forward by my leading foot striking a speed hump. For foot traffic, they definitely accomplish their designed intention.

MILE 1: See a race clock with ’00:08:40’ displayed, but I don’t see a mile marker. Does this mean mile 1 is complete? My watch is 30 seconds behind that, reasonable for my corral delay, but did I really just run an 8:10 mile? I wanted negative splits, but it felt faster than that.

Hit the first hydration station and it looks like a bloody scene from a horror movie…the first volunteers are holding red Powerade, and cups of red dye #40 are flying through the air, splattering red stains on white running shoes, socks, volunteers. I fly through the middle lane to the water, grab the last cup, say ‘thank you’ to the lady holding it (good race karma!)  There’s only an inch of water in the bottom; well, I don’t need it yet, but hope there’s more later.

MILE 2.5: Run near the Capitol, heading down Constitution Avenue just a short block parallel to the National Mall.  Though the race’s tagline was “Running Through History,” it really should’ve been “Running Near History” since the course was always just a short block or a building away from the key monuments and the best views.

MILE 3 (maybe?): Okay, now the watch says ‘0:22:14’ and I haven’t seen a mile marker. Even if the clock I saw was mile 1, I know I’m well past mile 2.

MILE 3.5 (hopefully): This is where some panic sets in regarding my pace time. I know I’m deep into mile 3 and haven’t seen a mile marker yet. I don’t have a Garmin and have no idea how I’m doing on my pace; I feel like I’m on pace, but that’s easily skewed by race-day excitement or runner traffic. This was a bad moment and a bad half-mile mentally. A feeling of frustration sinks in.

MILE 4: See a yellow pacer shirt up ahead of me, a welcome beacon, his ‘3:15’ full marathon flag above him. As my half marathon goal of 1:40 is half of a 3:20 full marathon, as long as I stuck near this guy, I’ll be okay. I surge ahead and overtake the pace group, just need to keep them on my heels and I’ll be a couple minutes ahead of schedule at the finish line.

MILE 4.5: Is that a barefoot runner? No, not a five-finger shoes runner…a legit barefoot runner. 30-degree weather, and this guy’s running along on a DC side street with no socks, no shoes, nada. And he’s passing me.

MILE 5: Still no mile markers, but I just hit the mile 5 water stop (I think it’s a half-mile early). Planned for a few Shot Blocks at mile 5 and 9, but the water stop is on me too fast and I don’t have time to chew and wash down three square inches of gummi energy. Guess I’ll refuel carbs at miles 7 and 11.

MILE 5.5: Hit Dupont Circle and the first “motivation station” set-up by the race. Spectators at these stations receive food, drinks, noise-makers, and music. Must’ve been too early in the race, or everyone wasn’t awake yet…kids holding signs, but I don’t get any music or motivation.

MILE 6: Look at the split times written on my arm. Yeah, these are kinda worthless without mile markers.

MILE 6.5: After a couple miles alternating between being overheated and chilled by the wind, I launch the freebie cotton gloves to the side of the road. “Heads!”  My gift to Columbia Heights. Pumping through the final push of a major uphill section from miles 4 through 7.

I never thought about why they called it Capitol Hill and Columbia Heights
until I was running up inclines from mile 4 through 7.


MILE 7: Still no mile markers, but hear a Metro Police officer saying “almost at the top, water ahead,” and sensing an opportunity, pop in three Shot Bloks and hit the hydration station with a mouth full. Get out a “thanks!” as I grab an overflowing cup of H2O. Volunteer yells an encouraging word and I’m trying to drink while running what I later find out is a 7:16 pace. Quickly realizing the cup and my mouth aren’t working together, so I half-jog and half-walk to drink the entire cup, watching the ‘3:15’ flag pass by. Toss the cup and crank up the speed to get back in front of the pace group.

MILE 7.5: Starting a gradual downhill and really moving through Adams Morgan. The motivation station DJ is blasting Black Eyed Peas…”I gotta feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night…”  I got a feeling it’d be a better night if someone put up a few mile markers. Run past the AMo pizza joints. Anybody up for a big slice?

MILE 8.0: Make the turn by Howard University. Some students woke up early to cheer on the runners. One parked an SUV by the course, tailgate open and house music pumping.

MILE 8.5: Really in the groove and hitting my stride. Feels great to look back and notice I’m putting a little distance on the pace group. I’m ahead of schedule and kicking.

MILE 9.0: As I hit the turn for North Capitol Street, I finally know where I am. Turning back towards RFK, I know this is the end of mile 9. A quick look at the mile splits written on my arm tell me I’m well ahead of the 7:45 pace plan, I’m closer to 7:15 and feeling good.

MILE 9.5: Did I really just see a Metro Police officer high-five a group of runners? Wow, surprising support from the MPD, goes right along with all the great volunteers this morning (the saving grace of the race).

MILE 10: The epic mile. Mile markers have returned!! Run past a mile marker proudly announcing ‘10’ and the watch reads ‘1:12:25’…about three minutes faster than my 2010 Army 10 Miler PR. In the groove.

MILE 10.5: A full marathoner runs by the ‘3:15’ pace group and yells at the flag runner. He’s apparently running two minutes fast. I quickly realize I’m now even further under my goal time. Just gotta keep ahead of this pace group.

MILE 11: The motivation station is set-up on a curve, and I’m flying along the edge. Crowds have grown along with the volume, running through a tunnel of noise. At the end of the crowds, refueling attempt #2 fails spectacularly. Trying to get a few Shot Bloks in my mouth with a cup of water again a tough task. Walk a few strides to hydrate and refuel…it’s not working, so I spit half out and quickly hop back on the pace. (Note to self: next 10+ miler I’m carrying my own water; at my pace, it’s easier to drink from a sports bottle than a Solo cup)

MILE 11.5: A hard stretch mentally and physically, crushing my pace time may be coming back to bite me. Peek at the camo ‘Army Strong’ band on my left wrist. I have to dominate this mile.

MILE 12: Spot my support crew (obvious blonde hair and red jacket), give a yell and a wave. I see mile marker 12 being carried down the street, presumably to get in position for the wave of 14,000 people behind me. Come on race organizers, step up your game.

Passing Mile 12. Enlarge the picture to see (1) me, (2) a guy with a bad calf tattoo
that I ran behind in a 10k in February (small world), and (3) my hero; though he's hidden by
the runner in blue, you can make out the small, sideways red '3:15' flag I followed to the finish.

MILE 12.5: Recognize the streets around RFK. Getting close to the finish line. Still sticking with the 3:15 pace group, but lost my slight lead on them. Finish strong!

MILE 13: Stadium parking lot is ahead, volunteers are yelling “marathon left, half marathon right,” and it suddenly enters my mind that I’m really happy to go right. Can’t imagine the pace group I’m running with has another 13.1 miles to go.

MILE 13.1: Turn the corner to the finish line and hit my finishing kick. Fly across the mat in 1:35:07 (chip/tag time), crushing my target of 1:40:00. In the groove on this day. My final 7:16 per mile pace is better than my 10 Miler pace and just seconds slower than my 10k pace.

The finish line area was poorly designed, bottlenecking together with no run-out, in my post-timing-mat strides I ran straight past the heat shields and medals (about 20 feet after the line) and ran right through the food tent. After five or so minutes of cool-down jogging, went back to collect my heat shield (space blanket), finisher medal, and food.

Waiting for my support crew at the finish line festival, and at this point I realize how cold I am now that I stopped running. The heat shield isn’t doing much. When my dedicated wife showed up, I immediately tried to hug the dog for warmth. Followed quickly by taking my gloves and running jacket from Jennie’s backpack and bundling up.

Portable heater and support crew member.


Finishing Thought... It was a fantastic run and I felt great once I found a pace group and hit my stride. I owe a lot of credit to the US Naval Academy marathon club member who held the ‘3:15’ flag that brought me out of the 3-mile funk and guided me to a seriously fast haul. After crushing my goal time, and eclipsing my per-mile 10 miler pace, I have new targets in sight for the upcoming GW Parkway Classic 10 Miler on April 10 and definitely have plans to add another couple half marathons to 2011.

CareFirst National Half Marathon
Finishing Time: 1:35:07

Race Organizers Didn't Set a PR

Unfortunately, the CareFirst National Half Maration wasn’t run well by the event organizers. I already touched on the awful packet pick-up lines and in my next post I’ll discuss inefficient driving and parking logistics, poor starting line organization, blocked corral entry, no mile markers (inexcusable), and bottlenecked finish line, but there were complete horror stories for those that came behind me.

Thankfully I outran some of the races biggest problems – running out of water, long waits at hydration stations, the finish line became so crowded racers couldn’t cross the final timing mat, racers received the wrong medals (half versus full), they ran out of medals. Other complaints at the finish line festival included the race organizer’s own printed directions being wrong, Metro cards for the relay racers were short on return fare, the “official shuttle” never made it to the “official hotel”, there was no GU energy gels where they were supposed to be (I wasn’t looking for it).

And the ultimate sin, the shirt was ugly. The 2010 Training Tee was a great design (I bought one on sale for $10), and the 2011 Training Tee was also a nice graphic, but the official race shirt was a muddled map of DC with a bunch of locations listed (many of which were for the full marathon and the half never hit). I run for free shirts and bananas, and I demand satisfaction.

At least the race crowd, volunteers, and even police officers were supportive and that made the whole event. I didn’t find it a particularly scenic course, but to be honest, I was focused primarily on my speed and my time. But for a race with only 15,000 participants and with the lofty title of “National Marathon,” the poor race organization and logistics were unexpected and unacceptable. I think I'll skip town and run my 2012 spring races in either Virginia Beach or the Outer Banks.

The Recipe for Running

Since someone asked me recently what went into my training schedule for the half marathon, figured I'd throw out all the gory details.

Winter Preparation
After taking seven weeks off running through November and December, I needed motivation; I’d never run through the winter before, and this year I was determined to not lose the endurance gains from last year’s base mileage. So in mid-January, I signed up for a February 10k, March half marathon, and early April 10 Miler…essentially putting my money where my mouth was…or shoes were…something like that. With $250 in race fees paid, I suddenly became more engaged in getting outside, leading promptly to another $250 in cold-weather gear from Pacers.

The key race in the trio was the National Half Marathon, a new distance for me in an official event, and a distance that wouldn’t be daunting if not for my long winter lay-off. My first run in mid-January would be a 2-mile run in 25-degree weather, with a 1-minute walk in the middle to catch my breath in the cold air. Uh-oh…13.1 miles suddenly loomed large.

After gaining ‘cold-weather lungs’ in January, I found the familiar groove of training runs on the W&OD Trail and started a slightly accelerated version of Hal Higdon’s half marathon training plan, leading to five days a week of hitting the ground, trail, or treadmill.

Much to the chagrin of my wife, Saturday mornings became pace runs; the farmer’s market or errand du jour could wait, I was running. And Saturday nights became pasta dinners, trying to keep fueled for Sunday’s long runs.

Final Preparation
After logging 175 miles of training in 2011, despite not feeling my groove in the 10k a month prior, the National Half Marathon was quickly on top of me, just a couple weeks away. After a confidence-boosting 12-mile training run on March 13, it was time for two weeks of taper before a March 26th race morning.

I tried a few new tricks for this distance, including drinking a few servings of 100% pomegranate or tart cherry juice every day for a week prior to the race. Preached by Jeff Galloway and Shalane Flanagan, it’s thought that the phytochemicals (antioxidant vitamins) and in particular, anthocyanins, in these juices help the body resist damage and repair itself. It’s really less about having a faster run and more about the body recovering and resisting new damage so you don’t feel destroyed the day after the race. Worth a shot.

I also tried to make sense of ‘computational marathoning,’ estimating the calories and carbohydrates I needed to load for optimal performance (based on VO2 max, heart rate, etc) and increasing the loading period from one night to 36+ hours. According to the calculations, which contain too much advanced math for me (thank you internet-based calculator), I apparently needed 1,250 calories (about 400g) of carbohydrates in the 12-36 hours prior to race day. I didn’t keep track too well, but I did expand my carb-loading into Thursday. So what did my Friday look like? It was a 2-bagel breakfast (Bodo’s FTW!), 2 servings of spaghetti (enriched; not whole wheat) for lunch, 3 cereal bars in the afternoon, 3 servings of spaghetti for dinner (12 hours out from the gun), and sipping on H2O all day. Why non-whole wheat pasta? Because to prime my glycogen reserves, foods higher on the glycemic index are much more effective in loading muscles. Extra fiber, olive oil, and whole wheat pasta are great for healthy weight loss, but before a race, you shouldn’t be worried about the size of your @$$. I wanted the highest glycemic load possible.

Related to carbs, I also carried two servings (one sleeve) of Shot Blocks on race day for midrace fueling to keep the glycogen reserves up for as long as possible. I try to replenish 30-50g of carbs per hour of racing, and don't want to rely on race-day Powerade/Gatorade or the mass quantities volunteers mix them in (often too concentrated or diluted).

The final preparation required a credit card. After two weeks of 60-degree weather, race morning was looking like 30-32 degrees. Though I already owned winter running pants, I was worried about over-heating halfway through the race and being miserable for the final kick. So on the eve of the race, I picked up a pair of CW-X Ventilator compression tights as a lightweight base layer to keep the wind at bay and keep my muscles warm. Turned out to be a very expensive, but also a very essential, addition to my race-day arsenal. Thankfully the race organizers gave out cheap cotton gloves which I could trash mid-race (No Impact Man would not be happy). Fully geared up for the arctic blast, the only thing remaining was a 5:00am wake-up and a 13.1-mile walk in the park.

Mission 1/2 Accomplished (CareFirst National Half Marathon)

Fantastic race through the city today. There were a lot of logistical failures by the organizers, but in the end, can't complain about my time. As I ran through the 10-mile marker and my watch hit 72 minutes, I already knew I was in the groove today (my PR 10 miler is 75 minutes), but never though my finishing pace would be within seconds of my PR 10k pace. Guess that means I need to stop slacking off and run faster on my next 10k and 10 miler...haha.

Official Race Results:  1:35:07  (7:16/mi)

Although there are better organized and executed spring races I'd choose over this particular event in the future, it was a good experience at the end of the day and the volunteers on course were very friendly and fun.

'Twas the Night Before 13.1 Miles

'Twas the night before 13.1, when all through the place,
The carbos were loaded, the watch with set pace.
The shoes were laid by the race bib with care,
In hopes that a 5:30 wake-up soon would be there.

Hoooah.

Ready for 13.1 Miles

After signing the good ol' race waiver and acknowledging that "running is a potentially hazardous activity"...guess I'm as ready as ever for a little 13.1 walk in the park. First half of the course should be fun, passing by all the monuments and the Capitol; the back half may be boring as it takes a meandering northern loop through the city and back to the "scenic" neighborhoods around RFK.

My expected finish time put me in corral #2 of 10 (color orange), so I'll need to be disciplined and not get caught up in the speed up there. I'd like to run negative splits and see if I can go out in the first 8-10 miles a bit slower than target pace, leaving some energy for the final push to make target. I'm rocking orange bib #15550 and my corral position means I thankfully won't have to weave through too much traffic.

To paraphrase Rebecca Black's awful 'Friday' anthem..."it's time for run, run, run, run, lookin' forward to the weekend...."  (ugh, feel so unclean; need a shower after that pop-"star" reference)

Packet Pick-Up Fail

I hate everything about packet pick-ups at DC Armory. Traffic outside. Parking at the arena. Lines inside. It's harder to pick up a bib than to actually run it.

Taper Over; Time to Eat! (and find my gloves)

My taper weeks are over. Nothing left to do now but enjoy the fun part of training. EATING.

Taper Week 1
Wed	Speed work; 10 x 400m at 5k pace (est. 5 mi)
Thurs	3 mi
Sat	4 mi (half marathon pace)
Sun	8 mi
Taper Week 2
Tues	4 mi (easy pace)
Wed	30 min tempo (pace up 5', 15'; down 20', 25') (est. 3 mi)
Thurs	Eat. Jog.
Fri	Eat, eat, eat.
Total Two-Week Taper Mileage: 24 miles
Sat	Washington DC National Half Marathon

And after warm March weekends, even needing sunscreen one Sunday, the weather for this Saturday's race is cloudy, sub-freezing, with a chance of FAILstorm.

Don't think I can run 13.1 miles in my winter running pants without overheating, so there may be a late Friday trip to Pacers for a lighter-weight option or compression three-quarters to keep the wind off my legs. On top, I'll probably go with removable sleeves and start with light running gloves (which I'll no doubt end up carrying or uncomfortably wad up in my pockets for the final 6 miles).

Eh, if it was easy, everybody would be doing it.

I'd Like to Thank My Understanding Wife

This was a good weekend.

Dozen Miles and Dirty Diapers

Another Vienna to Reston round trip. Absolutely gorgeous day for a simulated half-marathon, clicked off 12 miles in my final long run before the National Half Marathon. The weather was sunny and warm, although the winds picked up at times. Felt great throughout and still have trouble slowing down on my long runs...clocked in at an 8:40 average pace and felt pretty relaxed. Maybe I should revise my half marathon target pace downwards.

Hardest Part of the Day, Part 1: Around mile 8, just about the time I was jonesin' for a Shot Blok or two, I ran past a family pushing a stroller with a dirty diaper on board. As the wind blew with me, I endured ungodly chemical warfare for the next quarter-mile...could barely breathe. I hope those poor parents were close to home.

Hardest Part of the Day, Part 2: Running past the Pizza Hut and McDonalds (during lunch hour) on Wiehle Avenue at mile 5 and again at mile 7.  Never has grease and GMO-fed beef smelled so good.

Definitely need new shoes, but too close to the fire to switch now. I'll power through the half marathon in a couple weeks and retire my shoes at the end of 13.1 hard miles; it's the way they'd want to go out.

Week in Summary
Tues	5 mi
Wed	45 min tempo (pace up 5', 30'; down 35', 40') (est. 5 mi)
Thurs	Skipped due to biblical flooding
Sat	5 mi (half marathon pace)
Sun	12 mi
Total Week's Mileage: 27 miles

Beautiful Day for a Run

Beautiful Sunday morning for a dry-run of the National Half. Headed out for a dozen miles; earning my beer today.

15 Meats & 5 Miles; Both Under the Belt

There's a reason you carb-load before a run and don't protein-load. It's bad, mmmkay.

Had an all-you-can-eat business dinner at Chima Brazilian Steakhouse last night, conquering a marathon of fifteen cuts of delicious meat. Woke up this morning and decided to log a quick five-miler. I wouldn't classify it as my best run.

The Chima Menu Marathon

11 Miles Closer...to New Shoes?

After today's long run, I'm another 11 miles closer to the National Half Marathon in a few weeks. Weekly mileage up to 35-40 per week. Another decent day for a long run, 60 and sunny, and gave me a chance to experiment a bit with my hydration plan for the half marathon. Once again found it hard to pull back on the pace, ended up averaging 8:35/mile; really need to get my training runs under control and well below target pace to keep healthy for the long haul.

Also another 11 miles closer to new shoes. Starting to feel some aches and soreness in spots that are signaling it may be the shoes. Current pair have about 360 miles on them, but they'll have 450 miles logged by the time the half marathon is over. Maybe I should pick up a second pair to rotate for a few weeks, breaking in one pair and putting the other out to pasture without running 13.1 miles on the last laces.

Week in Summary
Wed	Speed work; 9 x 400m at 5k pace (est. 4.5 mi)
Thurs	3 mi
Sat	11 mi
Total Week's Mileage: 18.5 miles