I really don't think it's fair to yourself to use today as a fitness predictor. Humidity over 90%, major wind resistance, being soaked from rain and patches of ankle-deep flood water ... all of these factors coalesced to make you slower and more tired. I'm almost positive that you would've broken 1:09:00 or come close to it if conditions had been more akin to what they were at the LPR10s 2008-2011 (it was clear last year, but there was still a big wind factor). Oh yeah, and don't forget that you did a long run just yesterday!

Over the years I've perfected a precise pre-race pump up plan. When there's a little over half an hour until race start time, I run 2 miles, then take a GU and attempt to fit in one final bathroom (or porta-potty just as likely!) visit before striding toward the start line. Thus as 7:45 a.m. neared I was really ready to roll --- only to be dealt an indeterminate delay due to flood-compelled course rerouting. So, while continuing to get more and more deeply drenched by the wind-whipped rain (which would be hitting us hard in the face right as we set out), for an extra 20 minutes I had to keep jogging around, swinging my arms, and jumping up and down a bit to stay loose. But too much of that, it turns out, has the opposite of the desired effect. And naturally my racing zeal, which had been fired up at 7:40 a.m., had grown impatient and then resigned in the rain as the wait endured. More like, "OK, let's finally get this over with already" rather than, "NOW is the time to commence the race to end all races!"

Last year I infamously went out like a rabbit, beeping off my opening mile in 5:20 and leading Demers all the way until the bridge. This time I was not going to be so foolhardy. Rather, I took off with restraint and promptly started drafting off of Brandon. My plan was to let him by my shield against the wind for as long as possible. But ugh, within seconds it was clear that my legs were feeling awfully heavy and tired. This surely had much to do with the highly humid, wickedly wet and windy conditions (my clothes were already sodden), but my immediately felt stiffness could also likely be attributed to those extra 20 minutes of trying to stay loose --- which ironically wore me out (furthermore I'd commenced my warm up run a good 50 minutes before the eventual start of race). So it was only half a mile into the race that Demers started pulling steadily ahead (there went my wind guard!), and there was nothing I could do about this without further fatiguing myself in the opening minutes of the race. Meanwhile John Piggott had been right up there with us for a bit, but all the huffing and puffing he was doing hinted that he would soon be dropping back (and he did). Double-meanwhile, Michael Wardian seemed content to take this 10-miler easy the day after running a 2:33 marathon.

Though it was no 5:20, an opening mile split of 5:28 was still a tad reckless --- yet Demers was already establishing a firm lead! And by the time we turned left onto Rt. 249 N for an extended out and back (the St. George's Island out and back would be subtracted by an equivalent distance), he was basically a spec in the distance ahead. This was more than mildly demoralizing. I'd known that my chance at challenging him was still a significant long shot, but I really thought that there'd be more of a legit rivalry than THIS. As in maybe this year I'd finish within 30 seconds of him rather than 58 like I did last year. I had an aspiration to break 57:00, after all. But clearly the opposite of what I'd hoped for was happening. Instead of me and Brandon both having gotten faster (except me at a more aggressive rate), it appeard that his progress in the past year matched my regression. Much like the Rt. 249 out and back extension vs. the St. George's Island out and back subtraction.

As my cumulative time in progress kept falling further and further behind where I'd been at corresponding distances in last year's LPR10 (11:16 at mile 2 rather than 10:59, 16:59 at mile 3 rather than 16:44), it became increasingly clear that I could forget about any chance at sub-57:00, because <58:00 was now perilously uncertain. This foreboded that, for the first time in 6 years at this event, I was at risk of not setting a landmark 10-mile PR. Before I knew what weather conditions I'd be dealing with, I'd barely considered the possibility that I might not best 57:57 (the returns have diminished each year, but in a sense having gone from 59:28 in 2011 to 57:57 in 2012 was just as big a deal as going from 1:10:16 in 2008 to 1:06:09 in 2009). And never in my darkest dreams did I think that beating my 2011 time might be any kind of a challenge in 2013. Yet the main focus of my frustration was that I was not living up to the promise of the several major workouts I'd done in preparation for this event (most especially that 14 X 800 set, which I'd declared to be my greatest interval set ever). "I thought I was better than this," I kept thinking ... as my splits kept getting slower.

Demers was long gone shortly into the race, yes, but I didn't forget that Piggott was still a threat to the rear. Thus imagine my alarm upon making the Rt. 249 U-turn to see that Piggott had already been picked off by ... Wardian! He wasn't here just to jog after all, and he was coming for me fast. My brief pretense of trying to keep him at bay was no use. As he drew upon me, I hung with him for all of a couple seconds before he pulled resolutely ahead. "Go get him," I said in regard to Demers --- though this was merely a polite sentiment, as Brandon was so far ahead that surely not even Michael Wardian could reel him in over the next 7 miles (that's what I thought!). Anyway, making that U-turn had also revealed that Piggott was in no hurry to make a move on me, and by the time I'd crossed the bridge onto the island and was passing by the hotel, an amusing front pack positioning had developed:  Demers, Wardian, me, and Piggott were strung along at equal distances apart from each other. That is, right at the midpoint of the race there were 30-40 second gaps between each of us (in the order listed above). Ah, and hitting mile 5 in 28:49 restored some confidence to me; I was still trailing myself from last year, but I'd still just run 5 miles sub-29:00, which is not so terribly slow (it bested the latter, hard tempo half of my recent TNT Tuesday 10-mile tempo by a second).

While there'd been some shelter from the nor'easter elements on Rt. 249 (save for the omnipresent, 90% + humidity), exposure was in full force on St. George's Island. Running over the bridge, my race bib was like a full sail caught in a cruel gale, and I actually feared that the wind might rip it right free from the safety pin fastenings and send it flying off in to the roiling river. The furious waves of creek and river were indeed ominous along that stretch where the island is little more than a narrow strip of land between two bodies of water. The waves seemed like they might swallow up the land at any moment! Presently, however, the biggest flood risk was oozing out of the marshes further into St. George's Island (where the road passes along the reeds bordering Storms End!). A swath of water had indeed drowned a section of road. No matter, I would just skip along over the double yellow line down the middle, where the flood waters would surely only be an inch or so deep. But sure enough I found myself splashing through with my shoes getting fully submerged --- and that made me recall the most dangerous aspect of a flooded road:  the water is always deeper than it appears! There was a second puddle, nay, pool to deal with just before and after the new U-turn at the Ball Point Rd junction, but by then my shoes and socks (and ankle brace on the left!) couldn't possibly have gotten soaked any worse.

After making the final U-turn, I was pretty certain that Piggott would not prove to be a problem. Thank goodness nonetheless that he was still back there, somewhere, because otherwise the factors of wind and rain and humidity and flood pits and severely slowing splits (over 6:00 on both miles 6 and 8!) might've conspired to make me really phone it in --- while knowing that finishing on the "podium" was still a sure thing (Perry and Katie Ogden were the next closest threats, some 4 minutes back). Thus Piggott's purpose was to keep me somewhat honest with my pacing. "I want that damn lighthouse [plaque]" was my determination (a $75 check for my troubles wouldn't hurt, either).

Coming back off the bridge and hitting 8 miles in 47:00-flat should've left sub-59:00 an enduring possibility --- despite the extra 0.1 of a mile (as the Forerunner flies). Basically I'd need to cover miles 9 and 10 in 11:30 (5:45/mi) so as to leave sufficient time for the "extra" bit. That really didn't seem so unreasonable; I'd run the opening 2 miles in 11:16, after all (and let's not forget that 5:15 I recently ended an 8-mile Breezily Brisk with). Alas, considering the sorry state I was in toward the end of this race (if the wind wasn't a headwind, it was a side-cutting wind), running 2 miles <11:30 would've been akin to <11:00 in a more favorable scenario (furthermore, even if I had found the wherewithal to crack 59:00, I still would've been finishing a good minute over my PR). And upon making the left onto Lighthouse Rd I looked back and saw ... no one. Piggott had fallen that far behind, and Wardian and Demers were surely just as far ahead. I was utterly alone in the race now (save for a woman on crutches who saw me coming but still slowly cut right across my path to get from one side of the road to the other). So at that point there was no concern in the world other than besting my 2011 LPR10 time of 59:28. There was some slight suspense when I was negotiating the last couple curves of Lighthouse Rd, but a sub-5:00/mi kick kept things from getting too close. I finished in 59:13 on October 13 of 2013 (in addition to the 3OA lighthouse plaque and $75 check, I was gifted a cool pair of shades in a case for having the first finish time to have a 13 in it).

I walked over to Brandon, who this year had finished close to 2 minutes ahead of me rather than 58 seconds (despite posting a slower time in 2013 himself), and asked if he'd held off Wardian. This question was posed half-jokingly, as Demers' lead had still been significant when I last passed him face to face when I was still heading out on the island. But to my shock, he answered no! Michael managed to pull abreast with Brandon with just a mile to go ... and proceeded to blast off (this means Wardian must've run mile 10 almost a minute faster than Demers did). I'll admit that I had a tiny bit of snickering satisfaction knowing that he didn't get to be the winner either, but moreso I felt sympathy for the tall fellow. Whereas I'd quickly quailed in the quaky conditions, Demers defied the elements and ran himself straight into the ground in his determination to win --- only to have it all snatched away from him at the very end by a sub-elite runner. Woe to the unwary weary one who wishes to ward away Wardian the Walloper!

The post-race BBQ was as delicious as ever, but it all just wasn't quite the same having to awkwardly eat inside in close, cramped quarters with a bunch of other rainy race refugee runners ... rather than outside on the picnic tables in crisp air under a clear sky. Yet, in post-race retrospect, what a delightfully absurd experience we all shared that very wet morning.

It's clear that mile 8 was the roughest for all of us.

I presume that Emily missed her (Saturday) race as well?

While you certainly could've avoided a lot of trouble by pre-registering well in advance, I can't argue with your decision to bow out once you realized the severity of the situation shortly before the race was set to begin (lack of funds and time, and too much flood water). I certainly would not have wanted to trouble Liza with any last second race registration bargainings, as she was driving all over to get the course rerouted at the "11th hour". But it wasn't until 7:47 a.m. that it dawned on me that you definitely weren't going to make it. As I remarked to Phil, "The race was supposed to start 2 minutes ago, yet there's no sign of Joe." Ah, and your presence certainly would've saved Dave Walser some confusion. When I first went up to Phil, he was nodding and smiling politely as DW discussed what sounded like details of the recent Blaine Whorl 5k (as though they'd run it together). When Dave walked away, Phil was like, "Uh, I think he thought I was someone else" and I was like, "He must've thought you were Joe!"

When approaching the Thomas Rd junction during the race, I wondered if --- despite whatever reason you had for missing the start --- you might still make the short walk out to see us go by. But the flooding surely made that impractical. Still, I looked over at your house, thinking that maybe you'd be out on your deck, viewing from afar ... but the deck was empty. Somebody must've gone back to bed!

Two things I know thanks to Perry:

#1 ... Before SMAC, David Strickland was 12-0 as far as individually winning races.

#2 ... The 1OA and 2OA spots at SMAC were claimed by runners who'd participated in the CBRC summer track series this year.

My legs failed me down the stretch yesterday.  At my first two marathons my weak point had been general fatigue down the stretch. By that I mean if I had the energy I could have run faster (my legs were willing, but I could get them the blood (and oxygen) to run faster.  Yesterday, I finished with some energy.  Like I was almost too tired to smile at people after Shamrock, but yesterday I was talking to people and giving high fives at the end, but I still gave it my all, my legs just were heavy, hurting, and not cooperating.  I had a rarity in that I had knee pain (which I rarely get) and my hips and quad were sore.  In general my legs just felt heavy yesterday.

12 weeks ago on August 4 I ran a 20 miler but since then my longest run had been 13 miles.  I think the lack of long runs hurt a lot yesterday. My legs never felt great yesterday even early, but it was at mile 13 that they really stopped cooperating.  The first half of the race was very crowded so my ad hoc strategy was to run negative when the runners became spaced out in the second half.  I was thinking I'll go with this 8 minute flow until things thin out then drop to 7:40 to 7:45 the second half.  But almost as soon I started to push in the second half my legs went on me, which probably should not have surprised me as much as it did because they were surprisingly heavy on the hills in the first five miles.  I think the lack of hills in miles 5 to 13 made me forget their early fatigue a little bit.

I also would have tapered two weeks out rather than week if I had a redo.  I was coming back from injury and I felt like I had to get my weekly mileage up so after having a five or six ranging from 0 to 20 miles weeks while I was injured, so the last 6 weeks went something 37, 34, 41, 53, 51, 56, 32.  As you cans see I was kind of in a base building phase where the mileage was increasing and that tires out the legs.  I ran with Joe Saturday morning and I was apprehensive because my legs felt tired, but I have had races where my legs felt tired the day before and the race went fine.  I think what got me was the length of the race.

That's still a pretty good race. You did a lot of sitting the day before. Sitting isn't necessarily rest if it constrains your legs for long periods of time. I'm just glad you've finished the race now. It's your new longest run in months! And you can look forward to the next race.

4A regionals results at running maryland: http://www.runningmaryland.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=7533:4a-east-regionals&catid=130c-2013&Itemid=407