Notes
Official half split is 1:28:28 so 2nd half was more like 1:27:03. Looks like only one other guy who was running with the sub 3 group made it through in time.
Wow, that was crazy. Going into this I didn't really have any expectations. Yeah, in the back of my head I was thinking it would be nice to pull off a sub 3 and keep the streak alive but after the attempt at sub 3 pace on Monday I thought it was pretty unlikely. Even with the heat I should have been able to pull of four miles at pace.
So the gun goes off and there is a pack of twenty guys ahead of me going 6:30 per mile or faster, really a big group considering there are maybe 300-500 marathoners total. I kept the pace under control the first mile or two to feel out the legs. After a while they were telling me they could handle more so I sped up just a little. By then there were maybe 12 ahead of me around mile 4. Still a big group but the pace for me seemed just about right. My legs were a little sluggish and fighting to maintain pace but the breathing was easy. Around mile 6 I finally caught the group of about six and we rolled for together until the half split. By 13 I legs were telling me they maybe could handle a little more and I went with it. I pulled away from the pack in 5th place overall.
Around 16 things were starting to hurt, the hamstring was tight as hell and breathing was getting hard. At first I was confused as to why effort felt harder already, but then I remembered I had picked up the pace. I started focusing on maintaining pace for one more mile and trying to block out the thoughts of how much pain I would be in by mile 20.
By 19 my entire right leg had reverted to my preinjury state of dead hamstring, tight glute, and upper quad barking at me. I had no idea how I was going to finish this thing off at all and the demons were telling me I could back off and settle for a nice 3:05. Then I caught sight of a runner ahead of me and focused on catching him. He was in my sights for maybe a mile when suddenly he started walking at the aid station. I yelled at him as I was running by, come on man, let's finish this. He didn't move but told me I was in 4th place and good luck.
Now around mile 20 I have 3 more miles of no mans land, or should I say the pain cave. It was really bad at that point. I remembered why I like trail races. At least when the going got tough you had the rocks, roots, and hills to distract you. None of that here, not even a hill. Around mile 23 I come through an aid station, they cheer for me, then someone behind me. I push the pace harder even though my right leg feels like it is going to fall off.
Finally he passes me, a relay runner right after mile 23. Thank god you are a relay runner I manage to mumble and he tells me, you and me, 6:30 pace to the finish. My brain can't really comprehend doing this but somehow I manage to keep within 30 yards of him the last 3 miles. There are times I am on his heels (like the slight uphills) and times when he is a quarter mile away (like the flats) but finally we are near the finish.
There is a guy maybe 100 yards behind and I have 400 yards to go. I give one last heave ho and give everything I have. The finish line comes and I am done in my 2nd fastest time ever. I'm shocked, happy, and yet this race is still bittersweet. A revenge race for a DNF, what could I have done if I actually trained for a marathon?