Crossing the finish line at the footsteps of the state Capitol after a 26.2 mile journey that began at Folsom Dam two hours, 43 minutes and 40 seconds earlier was more than just the completion of another marathon; it was the time of my life.
The months leading up to the California International Marathon were some of the most difficult I have ever known, both physically and emotionally. I was working off of an enormous base from the early season where my focus was on ultra marathoning and the calling to aid a friend on an epic 335 mile trail adventure run. This was followed by a summer of recovery running in cooler temperatures of Upper Michigan, through speed working and sharpening in the sweltering heat of the fall in Alabama to race day under ideal conditions of Sacramento in early December, I had trained at a new level of intensity for a single day in which to prove my valor as a runner. Even in my best attempts, the marathon had defeated me so many times before and had remained as my mortal enemy in which I was not even a worthy advesary. Two years after my last serious attempt at marathon greatness, I was now hitting faster times and setting personal records at nearly every race. I had some very dedicated training partners who were willing to meet at the track every Tuesday for VO2max workouts and every Thursday for tempo runs, which helped provide the motivation and accountability that I had been missing in the past. My on-again, off-again travel schedule with work that had me gone every week throughout the first half of the year was off-again so I had regularity in my life which enabled a normal training routine. An unfortunate late summer injury where I turned my ankle before a trail race left me with a partially torn paroneal tendon that was mis-diganosed several times but ultimately resulted in limited lateral movement in my right foot and a presciption for staying off of trails. Little did I know that this was a blessing in disguise as I was able to focus on road running in medium voloume and high quality.
As runners we can fall into a routine that feels comfortable but is counter productive toward reaching our goals. For me it was overtraining on high mileage without focus and lack of a plan for the season. When I have been able to settle into an actual training program it has had very positive results, but I can't say that I have ever truly kept my eyes on the prize, even while working toward a featured race; but this time was different as I had stayed on a single road were all signs pointed toward California.
Nearly a year prior I had written about my new years resolutions which included
- More quality running overall
- More running at marathon pace
- Weekly tempo runs
- Take more targeted rest time
Most of my resolutions fade with the cold weather and this year was no exception; but as the summer rolled around and I was able to spend it with family in Michigan, I began to apply these resolutions. The quality running increased and I began to look forward to (road) marathon training; something I thought I would never say again and in fact after the 2009 Rocket City Marathon, I would have been fine with not ever running another road marathon again. But the lure of possibly qualifying for a spot at Comrades 90km (road) ultra marathon in May 2011 had me excited to run fast again and Sacramento was the place to do it. Everything about CIM leads to fast times from the point to point rolling course with a slight net downhill (yet not quad crushing) to the large competitive field, to the average December temperatures in central California to the minimal turns of the course to the likely tailwind and sun at your back as runners head west toward the city. Everything was lined up for a perfect day; all I had to do was execute.
As race morning finally arrived, I was very nervous about the ominous skies and rain which began to fall overnight. As the buses pulled up to the hotel I had to hop over a few puddles to get on board. I tried to remain calm as I could not control the weather. Taking a seat on the bus and preparing for the 30 minute ride on the freeway out to Folsom, I was joined by a nice guy from Indiana, named Jeff Mescal. He was a masters runner who was aiming for 2:40 on this day and had plenty of stories that helped to pass the time. I figured that I would not see him again, but ironically we would run into each other again a few times!
On the streets near Folson Dam, the porta-poddies were lined up and numbered into the hundreds, making the wait virtually nill if you were willing to walk down far enough. I got off the bus and walked around a bit, but evenually got back on so that I could change into my race gear. I left the bus around 6:30 to log a few miles of warm up and toss my drop bag into a large moving truck that would transport the bags to the finish. It always makes me nervous that I won't get my things back but they have a pretty good system and it proved to be a non-issue.
The starting area was four lanes wide, but with the chute packed with 6,000 runners it felt very tight. I began to make my way toward the front with about 10 minutes to spare and finally made it to the starting arch with just a few minutes to go. Based on previous results, I knew that I would be in about the top 100 or so finishers if I had a very good day so I used that thinking to line up about 2 or 3 deep back from the line. I drove the course on the day before the race and having studied the course map in detail, I knew that at the first mile mark the course tunred to the right so I lined up on the right side to minimize the effort needed to get to the turn.
I couldn't find the American Flag while they sang the National Anthem, but we had a guy next to us wearing a USA singlet (from the Olympics) so we just looked at him! As we moved up to the line, low and behold, who was next to me? Jeff Mescal from Hebron, Indiana!
My general plan was to try to not be too aggressive early in the race; really I was hoping to run about 6:15 pace for as long as I could and then see what was left in the tank at 20 miles. If I was feeling good, then I would start a long push toward the end; if not I would hold on and safely run under 2:50. I was never really public with my goals for this race other than talking about sub 2:50; in reality I had my mind set on 2:45 and felt that given my training I had a very good chance if I executed properly.
The first mile (of a big and crowded marathon) was all about getting into an even effort pace while not trying to get trampled by the pent up energy of 6,000 runners who had been going crazy with taper madness for the last three weeks. Running along Folsom-Auburn Road, I stayed on the right, with the first turn looming ahead and managed to keep it around goal pace, maybe slight faster than planned; it was a 6:06 split.
One thing that I discovered from driving the course ahead of time was that despite the net-downhill of this point-to-point course, it was anything but flat. That was clearly evident in the 4-mile stretch from Folsom that headed directly west away from the rising sun. The course rolled along, which compared to flat and fast courses that force runners to use the same muscles over and over, provided a change of pace and was actually welcome. I noticed that I would slightly pull ahead of the pack on the climbs, and then they would catch up on the downs. There were not as many people lining the streets like in Chicago and Boston, but far more than recent marathons I have run in Huntsville. I never really felt like there were any significant stretches of dead-space. I continued to run even effort for the next 4 miles, splitting them in 6:10, 6:09, 6:09 and 6:0, which gave me a time of 30:40 through 5 miles. I suspected that I would not be able to hold this pace all day, but I was now locked into it. There was a checkpoint at mile 5.9 with timing mats streaming splits to the web, in which mine showed 35:50 and that I was running in 125th place.
The next section was again a long straight-away, this time 5 miles due south along Fair Oaks Blvd through Citrus Heights and down to Fair Oaks. The pack had thinned out and the once congested streets were now simply scattered with runners. I fueled for the first time in the race toward the end of this section by taking a couple PowerBar Gel Blasts that I had in my glove. I had been trying to hit the aid stations with regularity, taking mostly water as the temperatures started to warm. The early morning sprinkles had now faded and it had warmed up into the upper 40's and almost low 50's.
I thought that I was starting to feel stronger, but in reality I was hitting my stride and the miles were splitting with ease. All of the long 10-mile tempo runs that I had done with the gang on Panorama were paying off as my pace actually sped up in miles 6-10 with a 6:06, 6:03, 6:08, 6:08 and a 6:06, totaling 30:31 which was faster than the first five. It was quite possible that I WAS holding back at the start and now I was running the pace of my ability. My 10-mile split time was 1:01:11 and I was in uncharted territory, never having run so fast to start a marathon. I was also moving up in the pack and starting to a pass few people; it was certain that no one was passing me.
Coming out of a few slight turns in Fair Oaks, the course straightened out with a westerly bearing and after crossing Sunrise Blvd, featured a short but steep climb of a third-mile. I was not laboring, but focused on my form and arm swing; over-exaggerated arm-swing is something that I teach to all I coach, telling them that it feels funny, but helps to pull your knees up off the ground and power up the hills. Staying on Fair Oaks Blvd but just before a sharp left hand turn, we crossed over the half-way point at 13.1 miles. My split was 1:20:07, or 6:07 pace. I was starting to believe in myself that I could really run under 2:45.
From the half split down to 15 miles was all about trying to remain calm, yet not lose concentration in these "middle-miles." I made sure that I was running even, staying hydrated and fueled properly. It was really starting to warm up and I had long since thrown my gloves, but now pushed my sleeves down to around my wrists as well. Splits from miles 11-15 were 6:04, 6:13, 6:08, 6:10 and 6:13, leaving me at 1:31:59 total. Though I had slowed slightly, my pace was still averaging 6:08 as noted by the volunteers calling mile splits. This was a nice feature that they had people not only indicating the time, but also the pace at each mile.
My goal was now to get myself to Watt Avenue; the place where I had run from (when I was in Sacramento a few weeks prior for work) to the end. I kept telling myself that I had seen the last 10km and it was downhill, with the sun at my back and that this familiarity would enabled me to finish strong. What I did not count on was that my stomach started to become mildly upset by 17 miles. I could feel the pace continue to slip where I was hitting 6:15's, but they felt like 6's. Finally in mile 18 I decided that a stop at a porta-poddie was going to be required. Murphy's Law states that once you decide that you have to go, and that you are going to go, that you can't get there soon enough. I am sure it was just minutes until I reach it, but that blue and white disposal unit finally appeared and I peeled off the course toward it. I wondered what I would do if it was occupied, but luckily it was open. Like any true engineer, I watched the seconds go by as I sat down and went. It was somewhere around 38-40 seconds that I lost by stopping, but was time well spent; As I jumped out of there, it was no more than a minute until I was cranking out low 6's again with ease. It helped too that I immediately began running with local female, who people knew by first name and they were cheering for her. I know that they were not cheering for me, but I will take it anyway! I can only believe that had I not gone, it would have been like an 800 pound gorilla on my back and would have slowed me more and more as the race progressed. My splits from 16-20 were 6:12, 6:15, 7:01 (bathroom), 6;11 and 6:19, putting me at 2:03:57. I was starting to think about the math at this point; if I could hold onto 6:36 pace or better and split the final 10km in under 41 minutes, I would be able to realize my dream. I did not know it at the time, but I was in 114th place at the 20 mile marker.
Running past the Starbucks on Watt Ave, I was comforted by my location, but mentally struggled with the fact that the miles were not coming off as fast as they were early on. All of the self-doubt that runners deal with had set in as I started to question myself... Had I not done enough quality long runs? How was I not able to keep up with friends Marty Clarke and Candace Jacobs on a 20 miler a few weeks earlier when the pace was a minute slower than this? Would I fade badly and miss my goals? Miles 21-23 were the low points for me and I felt it all slipping away. Some people would just accept this as a predestined fate, that they falter in chasing their dreams and that it was simply meant to be. That is not me.
As I crossed over the bridge on the American River, I really concentrated on the matter at hand; I was on 58th street and I had 50 blocks to run before the final two-turn combination into the finish. I got my head on straight and thought about all of the people who had trained with me, my family and my friends; I was not about to let them or myself down. The defining moment in this race was around mile 24 when I thought back to a very special note that Anne Noble wrote for me before I departed and told me to read on the morning of the race. It brought back my confidence and reminded me that someone out there believed in my ability; someone out there was waiting to see the final results, knowing that I would not go down without a fight and that when all was said and done, I would have given this race everything I had, to the point of exhaustion. From thousands of miles away, Anne made me believe in myself again. So while my splits from 21-24 were a slow 6:27. 6:27, 6:31 and 6:29, I kicked up the intensity a few notches and started a long kick toward the end.
From I-80 (about 29th Street) I started to increase my effort and push the pace. I was living out my dream in real time; passing people like they were standing still and taking a little bit of energy from each one of them. I checked off the blocks in my head one by one from 29 to 28 to 27, all the way down to 20th as that was the 25.2 mile mark; one mile to go. At this point, short of a cramp, I knew that I was going to be under 2:45, but I had an outside chance at running under 2:43. I would need to run 6:20 or better which would not be easy but I was going for it; throwing caution to the wind, I picked up the race block after block and as I passed my hotel at 15th Street on onto Capitol Park, I was running all out. With a tight turn on 8th Street and then a wide turn back onto Capitol Mall, I was in the home stretch with the finish line in sight. Despite thinking I had nothing left to give, I somehow dug just a little bit deeper, going to the proverbial well one more time with a final kick to the finish, crossing over the finish line in 2:43:40.
With a few staggering steps, I meandered forward to where a kind volunteer covered me in a mylar blanket and placed a medal around my neck. This was not just another finishers medal, but it was a symbol of a dream realized. Back in the summer I had set a goal. Throughout the fall I dedicated myself to training for that goal and suffered some tremendous highs and lows. Now on the 5th day of December, in the year 2010, I stood at the steps of the capitol building in Sacramento, California as a sign that anyone can strive to do extraordinary things but it is only through hard work that can realize your dreams. I had met the goal of qualifying for the Boston Marathon, using the guidelines of yesteryear.
From my 114th place at mile 20, I had managed to pass 21 people and finish 93rd overall. To prove the quality of the competition at this race, the top 291 runners finished in under 3 hours and the top 151 runners were under 2:50. The top 14 women achieved the US Olympic Marathon Trials qualifying standard by finishing under 2:46. It was a great honor to run amongst all of these fine athletes on this day.
Praise should go out to so many people for helping me reach this dream; too many to name individually, but you all know who you are and I will pay you back some day.
This memory is forever sealed as the day I ran the time of my life.
My splits
| Mile | Split | Total Time | Ave Pace |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 6:06 | 0:06:06 | 6:06 |
| 2 | 6:10 | 0:12:16 | 6:08 |
| 3 | 6:09 | 0:18:25 | 6:08 |
| 4 | 6:08 | 0:24:33 | 6:08 |
| 5 | 6:07 | 0:30:40 | 6:08 |
| 6 | 6:06 | 0:36:46 | 6:08 |
| 7 | 6:03 | 0:42:49 | 6:07 |
| 8 | 6:08 | 0:48:57 | 6:07 |
| 9 | 6:08 | 0:55:05 | 6:07 |
| 10 | 6:06 | 1:01:11 | 6:07 |
| 11 | 6:04 | 1:07:15 | 6:07 |
| 12 | 6:13 | 1:13:28 | 6:07 |
| 13 | 6:08 | 1:19:36 | 6:07 |
| 14 | 6:10 | 1:25:46 | 6:08 |
| 15 | 6:13 | 1:31:59 | 6:08 |
| 16 | 6:12 | 1:38:11 | 6:08 |
| 17 | 6:15 | 1:44:26 | 6:09 |
| 18 | 7:01 | 1:51:27 | 6:12 |
| 19 | 6:11 | 1:57:38 | 6:11 |
| 20 | 6:19 | 2:03:57 | 6:12 |
| 21 | 6:27 | 2:10:24 | 6:13 |
| 22 | 6:27 | 2:16:51 | 6:13 |
| 23 | 6:31 | 2:23:22 | 6:14 |
| 24 | 6:29 | 2:29:51 | 6:15 |
| 25 | 6:21 | 2:36:12 | 6:15 |
| 26 | 6:10 | 2:42:22 | 6:15 |
| 26.2 | 1:18 | 2:43:40 | 6:15 |