Manchester City Marathon 11/4/07 (Caution: report is longer than the race) (Read 865 times)

If you’ve clicked this link hoping to find a normal race report, you should probably hit the back button on your browser now. There are so many small but significant moments I want to capture and remember. For me this was never an endurance race, it was an endurance event. Not knowing whether or not my first marathon would be my last, I really wanted to enjoy the whole experience as much as possible for as long as possible. What better way to commemorate the day than a report that is an endurance event unto itself? Should you choose to forge on, grab a cup of coffee and pace yourself dear reader for there are many miles to go.

I picked up my number and chip on Saturday, and was pleasantly surprised to see that Loco Running had a booth at the expo. I would be wearing a pair of Carumba trainers with about 300 miles on them, and knowing that they were approaching retirement I bought a new pair. With a brand new pair of shoes on hand, I figured it would be more difficult to swear off running forever after the marathon. A nice man and woman started asking me about them, I said I loved the cushioning and thought they were a very good value. He wound up walking away with a box under his arm too. At this point, I’m beginning to think I should contact Loco and ask about earning a sales commission.

The volunteers I spoke with at the expo didn’t seem to have good information on basic stuff like parking and bag check, and I left feeling a little nervous about the race. This was the first marathon in Manchester since the 1930’s, and I really hoped the organization of the actual race was going to be okay.

I had printed out an homage to my kids, “INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION BY TOAD & SQUEAK”. It was 72 point font, and I enlarged the T & S part 200% on a photocopier to make sure it was big enough for all to see. On Saturday night I pinned it inside the back of a short sleeved tech shirt and Squeak used her artistic abilities to trace it on with a permanent marker. Toad was going to be my on-course crew chief, but he wasn’t able to attend because of a last minute soccer club tryout. I packed my bag, went over my checklist a thousand times and tried (with little success) to get some sleep.



The weather on Saturday was miserable, as Hurricane Noel brought cold temps, rain and high winds to the area. The forecast on weather.com said it was going to move out, and called for a cool, partly sunny day on Sunday. Fortunately, that’s exactly what we got. I managed to rouse Toad and Squeak from their slumber, we piled into the Jeep and headed North.

I dropped the kids off at their house and headed for downtown. Apparently alerted to my approach, traffic officers started dragging saw horses into my path. I took evasive action, but found highly skilled teams darting out in front of me to cut me off several more times. I looked at my watch and figured they had orders to start their blockade at 8:00 sharp. My knowledge of downtown Manchester is fairly limited, but I came up with a couple of good guesses and Plan B was successful. I wound up with street parking not far from the host hotel and starting line.

I left the house wearing an assortment of shirts to allow adjustment for whatever the temp was at the start. I had a long sleeve tech, my customized T&S tech over it, and topped it off with a disposable long sleeve cotton T. I climbed out of the Jeep and stood in the street to get a feel for the conditions. I decided it was eventually going to warm up enough to run in short sleeves, so I removed the long sleeve UnderArmor and headed out.

I was going to head for the athletes village, when I decided to fly first class instead. Why go porta-potty when the host hotel has restrooms AND heat? It was here that I saw my first friendly face, a nice guy who runs the Good Times series in Lowell. He used to sit at the end of the bar by the trash can, dodging flying bottle caps when the barkeep’s no-look tosses were a little off the mark. We chatted for a bit, and I found out this was his fifth (or maybe sixth) marathon and he was hoping to break four hours for the first time. It was getting close to the start time, he excused himself and went off to find his companion. It really bothered me that I couldn’t remember his name.

I walked out the front door of the Radisson, and came to a pair of greyhound statues. I thought about the skinny beast waiting for me at home, and rubbed one of the statues for good luck. There wasn’t a banner or timing mat for the start, so nobody seemed to know exactly where it was. It was cold , because the downtown buildings blocked the sun. I wandered down the street and found a small patch of sun to warm myself.

I started hearing announcements, and reluctantly left my happy place in the sun and moved toward the back of the pack. I was wearing the cotton T over my T&S tech, but didn’t like the idea of covering up Toad & Squeak. I took ‘em off, and put the T&S on top. I thought for a moment about the stories of the seemingly innocuous material known as cotton turning into WND (Weapons of Nipple Destruction), took it off and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Short sleeves it shall be.

Friendly face sighting number two, I found my sister, brother in law and niece just before the start. They had emailed on Saturday to say they were going to try to attend. It was great to chat right up until the start, the distraction helped calm my nerves. I don’t know what actually started the race (gun? air horn? announcement?), but I heard a cheer and people started moving. I was glad I actually remembered to start the timers on my watch and started shuffling along. As it turns out, we would be shuffling like sardines for at least the first mile.

At six minutes my watch beeped and I took the first of many 60 second walk breaks. It really did feel kind of silly, but it’s the way I trained and I was going to stick with the plan no matter what. I was aiming for a 9:00 minute pace, and was pretty happy when I passed the first mile marker at 9:45.

I got to the second mile marker, and noticed that I was faster than my 9:00 minute target but not by too much. I just made a mental note to slow down a bit and turned to the serious business of enjoying the run. I waved my hands like a conductor, and got decent responses from the crowd. . Marathons are great fun I thought to myself. I decided that I would thank each and every group of spectators (and especially individuals) that cheered or clapped, and I managed to do so for the entire race What if I yell “awfully quiet over there?” Yup, that seems to work pretty well too.

I was cruising along, high-fiving every kid who stuck out a hand and having a grand time. Probably too good a time, as my mile times were consistently under my nine minute target. Even with the first mile shuffle, I got to mile five about two minutes ahead of my schedule of 45:00. Now I was getting mad at myself, pacing problems have been a problem for me in recent races.

I was delighted to find that my personal cheering section reappeared. My brother in law was clutching a course map and figured out where I would be. That was simply priceless. The crew from Keene managed to pop up at a number of locations on the course by jumping into the car and bombing around Manchester. No small feat considering the roads that were closed or moving at a crawl due to runners crossing, it was definitely above and beyond the call of duty by a LOT.

I came to a small and quiet group holding signs with a runner’s name on them. I yelled over “you need the practice, pretend I’m Sam”. By the time they stopped laughing I had passed but they gave me a great “go Toad and Squeak” cheer to send me on my way. Yup, that worked. At about mile seven I met up with three guys who REALLY know how to work a crowd. If you want to get the crowd going without waving your hands or saying a word, just run in a kilt. People go crazy for runners in plaid man skirts. I chatted with one of them, and it turned out he teaches seventh grade science at Squeak’s middle school. Maybe she’ll be in his class next year. He asked me what that noise was, I laughed and said my jelly beans were bouncing around in my pockets. The clan had run BQ times in the Baystate Marathon a month earlier, and were running Manchester just for fun and doing a damned good job of it.

It was about this point that I started refueling by eating three Sport Beans at the start of each walk break. The noise was probably driving my fellow runners crazy, but at least the volume would diminish as I made my way through the supply. On one walk break I decided to add the traffic control officers to my “must be thanked” list. I spotted a greyhound in the crowd, and stopped to say hi.

I had another friendly face sighting, the guy from the hotel lobby was walking up a hill. I said an encouraging “hang in there Good Times” and carried on. After ten or fifteen seconds, I turned around and trotted back down the hill. “Your name’s not Good Times is it?” After he laughed and told me (again) his name is Jim, I wished him well and headed off. I’m (obviously) not great with names but I don’t think I’ll forget his again.

We were on a main road for the next few miles, and there weren’t many spectators at this point. Then we turned off into a small side neighborhood at about mile eleven, and for the tired half-marathon runners it had to be paradise. No need to work these folks, they were doing their own cheering and clapping marathon. It was amazing, they just never stopped.

As I approached mile twelve, a guy says to his companion “he’s a Carumba guy”. Loco Running is a small local company, so it’s unusual for anyone to know the brand never mind the model of the shoe I was wearing. I looked at him and noticed he was wearing them too. Then he said “I’m one of the Loco cofounders”. I chatted with them for a bit, telling him that I really like his shoes. I was just about to make my sales commission pitch (or at the least beg for some freebies) when I saw a runner who looked familiar ahead. I wished Mr and Ms Loco well, and tried to close on the gentleman ahead. Can’t pass up a possible friendly face sighting.

As I pulled even, I said “That you George?” The reply was “I feel like shit”. Now I was certain my pace was too fast, even though it took me twelve miles I’d caught George the Good Times legend. I told him nobody would know how he felt, he looked great and we trotted along for a while. He seemed to be OK and my suspicion was confirmed when he again said “I feel like shit”, then followed it immediately with “but I’ll finish”. I wished my 71 year old buddy well, and continued toward the halfway mark. (George went on to win his age group by finishing the half in 1:53)

Shortly after, we were back at the start with half runners turning left to the finish and helpful volunteers steering full runners to the right. The nice woman smiled and nodded “yes” when I asked if I had to go right. It seemed like a good time for a basic systems check. Feet? Good. Wind? Good. Legs? Good. All systems go.

There were more half runners than full, so there were only a handful of runners visible ahead of me now. It was going to be a lot more solitary from here on out. As we left the protection of downtown’s buildings behind, a strong wind began blowing straight into our faces. What was that I said about marathons being fun? After crossing the river on the windblown bridge the course turns up a short but steep hill, and a nice man yelled out “welcome to the West side” as I shortened my stride and dug in for the climb.

At about mile fourteen I came upon a card table with carefully arranged Dixie cups and a gallon of spring water. As I got closer I could read “Kerriann’s Water Stop” on the hand written sign. I told the proud young proprietor that it was the best water I’d had all day.

Somewhere around mile sixteen I stopped to say hello to another greyhound, and give some scritches. I took a look around and there weren’t many runners to be seen. After this point I can’t recall many runners passing me. The course here was mercifully flat for a change, and the next few miles were uneventful. I’d been eating Sports Beans on each walk break since mile seven, and by now I was getting sick of them. I felt like a kid who didn’t want to drink some nasty prescription syrup, but knows its important to do so. I was still feeling pretty good, but reminded myself of the adage that the marathon doesn’t start until 20 miles.

Just beyond mile eighteen is the campus of Saint Anselm’s College, and there was a fairly small group of spectators. They might have lacked numbers, but not enthusiasm. That was some great cowbell, you can never have too much cowbell. A couple minutes later an enthusiastic campus police officer was clapping and yelling “only seven miles to go, keep it up!” Just beyond was a water stop staffed by the very enthusiastic young women of the Saint A’s cross country team. If you look up enthusiasm in the phone book, I think you’ll find its home address is Saint Anselm’s.

My plan was to run nine minute miles and cover twenty miles in exactly three hours, but my watch had 2:51 as I passed the marker. I would finish in less than four hours if I could just hang on and average ten minute miles from here, I was feeling tired but thought I had a good chance. As we emerged from the woods and headed back toward downtown I was passing runners who were walking, and others pushing against light poles or other fixed objects trying to work on various uncooperative body parts.

As I passed the mile twenty two marker I momentarily switched my focus from my shoes to the horizon, and saw the buildings of downtown Manchester rising up like the Emerald City of Oz. That seemed appropriate, as I was growing sleeeepy, sleeeeepy. A half mile later I allowed myself an unscheduled walk break for the first time, and those thirty seconds went by in a heartbeat. As I struggled to switch from walking back to running I realized I was quickly running out of gas.

As I passed the mile twenty three marker, a woman was holding a sign that said “Be Strong”. I managed a smile as I said “that’s a joke, right?” It would be my last smile for a while, as the next mile was determined to teach me what a marathon is about.

My steady rhythm was gone, and I found myself thinking about every step. My feet still felt good, but my legs and my gut were hurting and I found myself making involuntary noises occasionally. I’d never made noises quite like this, thankfully I didn’t have the strength for them to be loud. They were kind of a whimpered hybrid of a groan and a scream. My goal of enjoying the run was a distant memory, replaced by a simple goal of survival.

I looked up the arrow-straight street and saw a row of orange cones rising up a cruel looking hill in the distance. I’d completed a practice run on the course, but somehow this stretch was now much longer. How could that right turn still be so far away? At this point I’m really talking to myself, and I strike a bargain. I’ll allow another unauthorized thirty second walk break, if you agree it is to be the last. Done? Done.

Once again I found myself wondering how thirty seconds could pass so quickly. I decided to strike another bargain, this time with a group of spectators. I managed to croak out “I’ll run if you cheer” and those nice folks did. I had to hold up my end of the deal, and I started running at an agonizingly slow pace toward the foot of the hill. My usual “thank you” was out of the question, but I managed to produce something that hopefully sounded like “thanks.”

I always shorten my stride on significant hills, and this time I lowered my gaze to avoid seeing how much hill remained. I think I was about two thirds of the way up when my watch beeped for a walk break, but I decided to keep going and take the break after reaching the top and the mile twenty four marker. I didn’t know it at the time, but the day’s biggest challenge was now behind me.

The excruciating grind that was the twenty fourth mile gave way to a slow shuffle. As the twenty fifth mile progressed I got my second wind, helped by the slight downhill grade. I was now running slowly, and my stride was returning to normal. I’m guessing that it was about halfway through the mile that I had another friendly face sighting. Jessica from the Good Times series had run the half and came bounding off the sidewalk to say hi. We only chatted for a few seconds, but a friendly face at this point of the race is worth a million bucks. I got another great lift shortly after, as my brother in law appeared once again and trotted along beside me. I asked how far away Hanover Street was, and he said “it’s just up ahead, you’re almost there.” I could hardly believe it, I was getting really close.

Hanover Street isn’t long, and just after turning onto it I saw the magic mile twenty six marker. It somehow erased all my fatigue, and I picked up the pace and flipped my water bottle over my shoulder. My BIL made a nice catch and dashed ahead to let my sister and niece know I was approaching.

As I turned onto Elm Street I saw the huge blue finish banner. Oddly enough, the happiness I expected was mixed with a tinge of sadness that the run was coming to an end. I’d been having great fun with the crowd, grubbing for cheers all across the city. I wanted to make sure I earned the last ones, so I continued to pick up the pace and made sure I emptied whatever was left in my tank with an all out sprint to the line. I felt great, and I'm almost certain that I'll be back for more.

Place Age No. S Div/Tot City St Time Pace
152 45 270 M 15/49 ARLINGTON MA 3:46:26 8:39

Great work fella...oh, and the run wasn't bad either..

It took two cups of tea and a wee break to get through.....like you I managed a sprint as I got to the last paragraph.. LoL

You must be delighted with your time..

Great race & an excellent race report. That's a terrific time & an excellent pace strategy especially since you surpassed you own expectations. Wow. Definitely food for thought for anybody who'd like to crack 4 hours. Thanks for sharing & Congratulations.

I just peeked at your log. Please explain the entry in October "Manchester Marathon with one wrong turn." You literally ran a marathon+ distance less than a month before your actual marathon? I like your style.

Wow, what a treat...2 epic marathon reports in 24 hours. You did SO well...wow, what a great time for your first marathon! I'd be thrilled to be a half hour behind you!



k

Ed,

Excellent time. We were going to drive up there to watch, but couldn't make it.

Remember when you told us at the Table O' Champions that you don't run in the winter? I think that's about to change. Get some fleece and hit the road.

Dude, I just got a letter of warning for spending too much time in the loo reading print outs of strangers race reports!

Good job! Your training sked is interesting, I am tempted to try it. How do you feel today?

Dave

Quote from modal on 11/6/2007 at 7:31 PM:

There's actually more, but I don't want to get people fired (see Dave's comment below). I had to cut it off at the finish line, but I'll start another thread with the post race festivities and award ceremony.


Quote from Daddyo on 11/6/2007 at 7:56 PM:

My training plan is Galloway's run/walk from his book Marathon, You Can Do It! He has a number of different plans ranging from Off The Couch to a time goal of 2:39 (no thanks!) I've been doing my low mileage run/walk thing for a couple of years now (six minutes running/one minute walking), so I chose the "To Finish" plan which is the next level up from OTC. The core of his method is the long run, gradually increasing to a final training run of 24 to 30 miles depending on the plan.

That 26 mile marker actually WAS magic. I felt great as soon as I got to it. One thing Galloway does is emphasize the importance of beginning your recovery routine as soon as possible after any run. I kept walking around the village after the race, stopping only to grab some fruit and chowder. I didn't have any money on me (note to self...) but my sister bought me a cheeseburger from a nearby catering truck. I decided to suck it up and follow his recommendation of an ice cold bath within two hours. I can assure you that is NOT pleasant. Since this was my first marathon I don't have a baseline for comparison, but it probably helped. I went for several more fifteen minute walks on Sunday night, having a dog who needs to be walked helps to get you out the door.

The only effect I felt was in the middle of the night. I rolled over and my legs SCREAMED at me and woke me up. Thankfully they were quite tired, and they settled down and went right back to sleep. The homestead has plenty of stairs, so I was really happy that I had no problems going up or down them. I had played it safe and taken two days off from work, but as it turns out I could have gone in on Monday.

Walk, eat, walk, ice, walk, walk, sleep. Good stuff.

Damn impressive race report as usual!

Great job my friend!