My own private wall....
Yesterday was race day, the San Francisco Marathon. Well, for me it was the half marathon this time. My full marathon is the Nike Marathon this year, on October 22nd.
I'm not sure exactly when I became addicted to running but I suppose it was inevitable. Knowing I'm of this personality type, I try to stay addicted to healthy pursuits. On marathoning, I guess I'd have to blame Abbott. A number of years ago, I met Mike and Martin for dinner at our favorite hang, Jing Jing in Palo Alto. Mike busts out with "Hey, we're running the Honolulu marathon, you should come with us!". Of course, I'm down for a trip anywhere with the boys. I went home that night and promptly signed up. The next day, my compatriots were surprised at my instant conviction, an indication to me that neither of them had actually entered. I made a serious attempt at training, suffering from chronic injury along the way. I ran the Nike Half Marathon as training, but suffered shin splints so intense that I was sidelined for a month. There was no way I'd be in shape for the marathon and as it turns out, good thing. When race day arrived, I was in Hawaii, but I was deathly ill with some kind of killer cold virus. By that time though, I could not be stopped. I would complete a marathon. As I have mentioned before, I'm a big guy, not naturally suited to be a distance runner (but that didn't stop me competitive cycling either). So, I focused on losing weight. I managed to lose 45 lbs and finish the San Francisco Marathon in 2005 in about 4:40. After I finished, I stated to my wife that I had checked it off of the list as a life accomplishment and I was not becoming a "marathoner". Yeah, right....
This year, I'm running multiple races. I guess since being able to run 10 miles or more, I've really come to enjoy the solitary, hypoxic time in the woods. It's a great time to focus, to think, to create. The downside is that when sidelined by injury or illness, I can become terribly depressed. I lost 4 weeks of training this year when I was felled by the flu, followed by pneumonia, followed by a cold. The comeback was tough, my lung capacity reduced to the volume of a walnut. I pressed through and even stayed committed to training while I was in Belarus. Even though I hadn't trained to the level I would have liked, I remembered what my buddy Saar said last year, it's all about the base. Finally, race day had arrived.
Part of what I love about racing is the atmosphere. In my experience, each type of racing has it's own feel. This is probably down to my relative level of competitive ability in the subject sport. Cycling, especially track cycling, is as arrogant and juiced up as they come. I loved my years cycling and the people I trained with, but race day could just be silly egos were so out of control. Auto and motorcycle racing are much more relaxed. You get the occasional clown attempting to handle way too much car, but not very often. Then there's running. A massive throng of insane people who willingly flood the streets at 5 a.m. for the privilege of torturing their joints, muscles, and general viscera for 2 - 5 hours or so. In some ways, it's chaos or at least some chaos theory. I find that if you attach yourself to the edge of the crowd, not unlike antibody to antigen, you'll find your way past the bag check and eventually to your start wave, no other directions required. This year, based on past experience, I started in a wave slightly faster than I intended to run. My first marathon, I started in a wave a bit slower than I intended to run. This was not a good strategy. Not only did I find myself dodging slower runners constantly, but when you get into the 4:30 and greater finish times, there tends to be a significant amount of chit chat between participants which I find completely annoying. I'm no Prefontaine, but I remain competitive and I'm out here to turn my PR. Following the same logic, I always commit to bring my Shuffle but change my mind at the last moment fearing that as the miles pass, any extra gear will become a distraction, eventually causing me to hear voices that result in ejection of the offending device over the nearest ledge. Next time, no matter what, the iPod will be in tow. Worse than the yammering pseudo-athlete is the danger that one of the most annoying songs in the world will become inexplicably stuck in my head, like this time. Believe it or not, I'm walking on air, theme song to The Greatest American Hero. I cannot remember the last time I heard the song, but there it was, by mile 3 I was screwed. Ouch.
I tried to focus on my pacing strategy but my Garmin, for the first time ever, never was able to locate satellites. So, I had to pursue the backup plan (find a hottie who's slightly faster and keep up). I was cruising along for the first 4 miles or so during which I had to make a small detour to hit the whizinator. I never have to pee after I start a race. I make a point of taking care of everything before the start, but my cab was late this morning and I didn't have enough time. I noticed many of the competitors ducking into driveways along the piers that line the Embarcadero to relieve themselves. I just couldn't bring myself to do the same. Not because I'm embarrassed to do so, but organizing a race of this size in the city of San Francisco requires the full cooperation of it's citizens, local government, an army of volunteers, and local business. What impression of the running community will be left with those who arrive to work only to find that the entrance has been engulfed by lake peepeekaka? I think it shows a complete lack of respect for the good people who tolerate our temporary take over of the streets. I waited until the Maria where there was a public bathroom available.
After the short detour, I made it up the climb to the Golden Gate Bridge in good shape, mile six down as I passed under the first tower. Feeling loose, I started turning faster splits, 8 minutes to mile 7. Mile 8 and 9 were similarly smooth and quick. Then, it all came apart. One step down onto my left foot about 200 yards from the end of my bridge and just before mile 10 and it felt like something snapped in my left calf. The pain was instantaneous and what my wife would call, exquisite. Crushed, I hobbled the rest of the way off of the bridge. I had to try and stretch out whatever had just happened. I had experienced the same injury in the past and it kept me down for 2 weeks, but the thought of spending the next hour walking the remaining 3 miles was just too much. I shuffled down the hill to the 10 mile water table and walked through the zone, things started to loosen up. Encouraged, I started running again. I thought I might actually make it back in short order until just before mile 11 when something else, deeper, felt like it snapped. Oh boy. At this point, I wasn't able to fight through the pain, each step generating a shock from my Achilles to the back of my knee. There was medical at mile 11. I had the tech wrap my left calf with Ace tape as tightly as possible. That was enough support to allow me to drag my butt home.
To all of you crazy folks who line the roads cheering at such an early hour on a Sunday morning, you rock. I have to say that the crowd gathered after mile 11 had a huge effect on my resolve to finish. You guys are insane, but God love you. I was forced to walk again for a short distance before heading into the neighborhoods that border Golden Gate Park. Mile 12 seemed to drag on forever with mile 13 coming not too long after entering the park, up the last climb. About 200 yards from the finish, I spotted Calvin standing with my Mom. I yelled to him and he started to run after me along the sidewalk. Next time, I'm definitely inviting him onto the road with me. The kid can already run a couple of miles so I've just been delaying the arrival of that inevitable day when he can outrun his old man. I managed to finish in 2:07 despite the walking and delays, so I'm very happy with my performance. Certainly without the injury I would have achieved a sub 2 hour 1/2 marathon.
I'll be convalescing for a couple of weeks with ice and yoga. Then it's back on the road to October 22nd. I can't wait. And next year? Pikes Peak w/ the Abbott.
Rack 'em.
Yesterday was race day, the San Francisco Marathon. Well, for me it was the half marathon this time. My full marathon is the Nike Marathon this year, on October 22nd.
I'm not sure exactly when I became addicted to running but I suppose it was inevitable. Knowing I'm of this personality type, I try to stay addicted to healthy pursuits. On marathoning, I guess I'd have to blame Abbott. A number of years ago, I met Mike and Martin for dinner at our favorite hang, Jing Jing in Palo Alto. Mike busts out with "Hey, we're running the Honolulu marathon, you should come with us!". Of course, I'm down for a trip anywhere with the boys. I went home that night and promptly signed up. The next day, my compatriots were surprised at my instant conviction, an indication to me that neither of them had actually entered. I made a serious attempt at training, suffering from chronic injury along the way. I ran the Nike Half Marathon as training, but suffered shin splints so intense that I was sidelined for a month. There was no way I'd be in shape for the marathon and as it turns out, good thing. When race day arrived, I was in Hawaii, but I was deathly ill with some kind of killer cold virus. By that time though, I could not be stopped. I would complete a marathon. As I have mentioned before, I'm a big guy, not naturally suited to be a distance runner (but that didn't stop me competitive cycling either). So, I focused on losing weight. I managed to lose 45 lbs and finish the San Francisco Marathon in 2005 in about 4:40. After I finished, I stated to my wife that I had checked it off of the list as a life accomplishment and I was not becoming a "marathoner". Yeah, right....
This year, I'm running multiple races. I guess since being able to run 10 miles or more, I've really come to enjoy the solitary, hypoxic time in the woods. It's a great time to focus, to think, to create. The downside is that when sidelined by injury or illness, I can become terribly depressed. I lost 4 weeks of training this year when I was felled by the flu, followed by pneumonia, followed by a cold. The comeback was tough, my lung capacity reduced to the volume of a walnut. I pressed through and even stayed committed to training while I was in Belarus. Even though I hadn't trained to the level I would have liked, I remembered what my buddy Saar said last year, it's all about the base. Finally, race day had arrived.
Part of what I love about racing is the atmosphere. In my experience, each type of racing has it's own feel. This is probably down to my relative level of competitive ability in the subject sport. Cycling, especially track cycling, is as arrogant and juiced up as they come. I loved my years cycling and the people I trained with, but race day could just be silly egos were so out of control. Auto and motorcycle racing are much more relaxed. You get the occasional clown attempting to handle way too much car, but not very often. Then there's running. A massive throng of insane people who willingly flood the streets at 5 a.m. for the privilege of torturing their joints, muscles, and general viscera for 2 - 5 hours or so. In some ways, it's chaos or at least some chaos theory. I find that if you attach yourself to the edge of the crowd, not unlike antibody to antigen, you'll find your way past the bag check and eventually to your start wave, no other directions required. This year, based on past experience, I started in a wave slightly faster than I intended to run. My first marathon, I started in a wave a bit slower than I intended to run. This was not a good strategy. Not only did I find myself dodging slower runners constantly, but when you get into the 4:30 and greater finish times, there tends to be a significant amount of chit chat between participants which I find completely annoying. I'm no Prefontaine, but I remain competitive and I'm out here to turn my PR. Following the same logic, I always commit to bring my Shuffle but change my mind at the last moment fearing that as the miles pass, any extra gear will become a distraction, eventually causing me to hear voices that result in ejection of the offending device over the nearest ledge. Next time, no matter what, the iPod will be in tow. Worse than the yammering pseudo-athlete is the danger that one of the most annoying songs in the world will become inexplicably stuck in my head, like this time. Believe it or not, I'm walking on air, theme song to The Greatest American Hero. I cannot remember the last time I heard the song, but there it was, by mile 3 I was screwed. Ouch.
I tried to focus on my pacing strategy but my Garmin, for the first time ever, never was able to locate satellites. So, I had to pursue the backup plan (find a hottie who's slightly faster and keep up). I was cruising along for the first 4 miles or so during which I had to make a small detour to hit the whizinator. I never have to pee after I start a race. I make a point of taking care of everything before the start, but my cab was late this morning and I didn't have enough time. I noticed many of the competitors ducking into driveways along the piers that line the Embarcadero to relieve themselves. I just couldn't bring myself to do the same. Not because I'm embarrassed to do so, but organizing a race of this size in the city of San Francisco requires the full cooperation of it's citizens, local government, an army of volunteers, and local business. What impression of the running community will be left with those who arrive to work only to find that the entrance has been engulfed by lake peepeekaka? I think it shows a complete lack of respect for the good people who tolerate our temporary take over of the streets. I waited until the Maria where there was a public bathroom available.
After the short detour, I made it up the climb to the Golden Gate Bridge in good shape, mile six down as I passed under the first tower. Feeling loose, I started turning faster splits, 8 minutes to mile 7. Mile 8 and 9 were similarly smooth and quick. Then, it all came apart. One step down onto my left foot about 200 yards from the end of my bridge and just before mile 10 and it felt like something snapped in my left calf. The pain was instantaneous and what my wife would call, exquisite. Crushed, I hobbled the rest of the way off of the bridge. I had to try and stretch out whatever had just happened. I had experienced the same injury in the past and it kept me down for 2 weeks, but the thought of spending the next hour walking the remaining 3 miles was just too much. I shuffled down the hill to the 10 mile water table and walked through the zone, things started to loosen up. Encouraged, I started running again. I thought I might actually make it back in short order until just before mile 11 when something else, deeper, felt like it snapped. Oh boy. At this point, I wasn't able to fight through the pain, each step generating a shock from my Achilles to the back of my knee. There was medical at mile 11. I had the tech wrap my left calf with Ace tape as tightly as possible. That was enough support to allow me to drag my butt home.
To all of you crazy folks who line the roads cheering at such an early hour on a Sunday morning, you rock. I have to say that the crowd gathered after mile 11 had a huge effect on my resolve to finish. You guys are insane, but God love you. I was forced to walk again for a short distance before heading into the neighborhoods that border Golden Gate Park. Mile 12 seemed to drag on forever with mile 13 coming not too long after entering the park, up the last climb. About 200 yards from the finish, I spotted Calvin standing with my Mom. I yelled to him and he started to run after me along the sidewalk. Next time, I'm definitely inviting him onto the road with me. The kid can already run a couple of miles so I've just been delaying the arrival of that inevitable day when he can outrun his old man. I managed to finish in 2:07 despite the walking and delays, so I'm very happy with my performance. Certainly without the injury I would have achieved a sub 2 hour 1/2 marathon.
I'll be convalescing for a couple of weeks with ice and yoga. Then it's back on the road to October 22nd. I can't wait. And next year? Pikes Peak w/ the Abbott.
Rack 'em.
posted by Jaybeau at
7:38 PM
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