I was humbled today at the Lower Potomac River Marathon. First of all, I was lucky I made it to the starting line today. No, not because I was late (I'm completely used to getting down there before 7 a.m. on Spring Daylight Savings day). I was put out of a commission most of last week due to a crippling cold (almost like a sinus infection), and its lingering snotty residue was still affecting me this morning. And even before the race, I had a woeful ... rawness issue going that put a sting in my stride (you wouldn't believe the bloody horror I beheld after the race). Oh, and my teeth were throbbing a bit, like a toothache (maybe I was gritting them in my sleep ... which had been poor the past couple nights). Yet still, I was there amongst the 200, balmy weather-attired runners as we lined up, many rows deep --- tensely awaiting the start of all starts. Let me make it immediately clear that this was a competitive field. I couldn't believe how many men and women shot ahead of me at the start, and I had to use all my discipline to hang back off a sub-8:00/mi pace. I was trying to stick to 8:15/mi. So, as I approached the first U-turn on St. George's Island, I tried to count all the front runners coming back my way --- and quickly lost track (though I noted that Perry was in about 25th). But thanks to the reckoning of a wizened old runner counter, I learned the appalling truth that, at 3.5 miles, I was in 51st place. Not even in the top 25 percent of a 200-runner field! And yes, about seven of my betters were women. Aside from poor placing, I had some other impediments going on. I had to constantly wipe my runny nose with my gloves (I was one of two or three people in the race wearing them), and occasionally I was seized by sneezing fits. And then, as I covered the bumpy and uneven pavement of St. GI, my left knee started bumming out on me. But I was still keeping true to the 8:15/mi pace, using a 1-2-3-4 footfall beat count to stay on track. Nearing the conclusion of the Light House Rd. segment, around mile 11.2, I checked my watch and realized I'd have to drop my pace significantly in order to hit the half in under 1:50:00. So I started risking sub-8:00/mi. And though according to my watch I hit 13.11 in 1:48:50 (my half time last year was 1:47:something), the course markers were so damn far off the GPS that I passed the official post in in 1:50:11. That made the severity of the situation clear: in order to beat 3:40:00 --- my bottom line goal --- I would absolutely have to run negative splits. Not easy to do in a marathon! Well, I kept up the quickened pace until the Cedar Cove, mile 14.6 station, where I took my first PowerGel pack. I thought things would start going smoothly after that --- but then, right around mile 15, I felt the first onset of fatigue. To put it in perspective, at mile 15 today I felt the same way I did around mile 20 in the marathon last year. In other words, my fatigue was accelerated by five miles. I'd fancied the notion of charging through the whole marathon without stopping to walk once, but that turned out to be a crock. I took a quick stroll after the big mile 17 water station (I believe I saw Perry for the last time in the race shortly after that ... he'd said earlier that he was on his way to crashing and burning but, with a 1.5-mile lead on me, he seemed to be doing just fine), and then absolutely had to stop when coming back to the sister station on the opposite side of the the road. I had a terrible cramp in my lower back that was getting to be quite debilitating. I knew I needed a good long walking respite, so I took up a hike --- all the way to the mile 21 marker (about 0.5-75 miles). My feet were killing me, even as I attempted to walk over the muddy outer fringe of the shoulder. Obviously, a few folks passed me (including a not unattractive girl in her 20s), though I did see a number of people taking walking interludes on both sides of the highway. Anyways, at this point I still seemed to have a chance of breaking 3:40:00. It would require, however, running the final five miles of the race in 40 minutes or less. Thus, after achieving the 21 post (at 21.2 as the Forerunner reckons), I earnestly resumed running whilst trundling tremulously down the long slope leading to Valley Lee. More poor stride was almost bowlegged, such was the brittleness of my knees. I made it all the way to the mile 23 station --- across the road from the Cedar Cove spread --- before I was compelled to stop again (and I was just yards away from catching back the aforementioned female in my age range. How the hell was she able to keep going??). My support team could clearly see that I was suffering, but I curtly dispelled their worries and gobbled up a banana as I marched from there to Tall Timbers Rd. Next I jogged from there to the final (de)st(in)ation, around 24.33 or 24.5, where I shamefully resumed walking. At that point I was passed by a presumably British fellow in his 60s, who cheekily admonished me, saying something like, "Only a mile or so left to go, mate. No more walking." I wish. As the running recommenced just before mile 25, I pounded my chest and declared aloud that there would be no more walking --- that it was time to put an end to this race. Oh, well there was something sapping my motivation. I'd already watched my ... watch tick past 3:40:00, so what was there left to do but finish under four hours? I had time to spare. And believe it or not, I took yet another walking break (albeit very brief) when there was less than a mile to go --- mainly because I happened upon a self-serve water jug. My shame was indeed amassing. I felt as though I'd given into apathy, that I was disrespecting the institution of the marathon itself, and that I was being plain lazy. But as I ended that final stroll, it became clear that I was indeed putting all the strain on my body that I could handle. My calf muscles and/or tendons --- particularly the left --- started contracting charlie horse-style, causing me to moan/gasp aloud with pain every few steps. The stretch along the seamanship school fence leading to the ultimate turnoff had never seemed so long. I honestly thought my legs might give out under me! Then, at long last, there was the straightaway leading to the finish. Last year I thundered across the line with emotionally charged fury, but this year ... I was in morbid misery, and just wanted it to be over. NOW. I still had an arguably strong final sprint, however. Anyways, I stopped my watch (which claimed 26.47 miles) at 3:54:20, a whopping 14 minutes slower than my time last year (yes, slower than my first marathon time). I do believe that's within seconds of Adubb's PR from back in high school. Club Secretary Sierra tore my bib, and I was promptly adorned with a fine finisher's medal hung from a sash of regal purple. That was the only thing I won (I finished sixth in my age group, and the really sad thing is that I wouldn't have placed in the women's 20-29 division). In worse pain than last year, I was a wreck, but luckily Katie, a member of my support team, was there to assist me with walking --- providing her shoulder as a veritable human crutch. Was it the sickness and lack of sleep? The sudden warmth and humidity? Did I taper too much? Was 24 miles too long of a training long run? Was it the fact that I only had two weeks with mileage over 40? Was it just not my lucky day to run? My under-performance could've been the result of any or all of these things. But after today's experience --- and my persisting inability to walk without brittle knee pangs --- I'm indefinitely retiring from marathon running. At least for a couple years. The post-race buffet was still excellent, though. Perry should have a far less depressing race report to share. Someone's going to Boston! Well, could if he wanted to, hehe.

As time passes and things fall into perspective, I'm being less hard on myself. I realize that most of the things that held me back yesterday were factors beyond my immediate control --- like the warm, humid weather (Perry had the unique advantage of having done most of his recent running in Okinawa, Japan, where it's been quite balmy). My training this year closely paralleled my training from last year, except my three longest long runs this time were 20 miles, 22 miles, and 24 miles (run nine weeks, six weeks, and three weeks before the marathon, respectively) rather than 18.75 miles, 20 miles, and 22.5 miles (run over similar calendar increments). And just as I can never be too disappointed about a 5k time under 20:00, I can learn to live with any marathon finishing time under 4:00:00. The next time I run will probably be a mild three miles on Saturday, followed by a couple more weeks of non-intense running. But then training for the Hospice 10k begins!

I'm looking at the results on Active.com. Men http://results.active.com/pages/displayNonGru.jsp?rsID=75560&orgID=234639&pubID=2 Women http://results.active.com/pages/displayNonGru.jsp?rsID=75561&orgID=234639&pubID=2 I see that my Chaptico 10k nemesis, Wayne Guy, ran the race in 5:34:39! That guy is dedicated. I hope I'm like him when I'm older. There were actually fifteen guys over 60 who finished. Wow.

Alden and I ran the Suquehanna Park 5K this morning. Three things sum up my first race experience with the RASAC of Harford County... Good: I finished second overall in the 10K division Bad: There were only two people in the 10K division Worse: There was no 10K division. The race director was almost cavalier with how low-key this race was. There were probably only 20 people total in the whole field, most of them members of the RASAC, so I guess he felt most were very comfortable with the course. Everyone seemed very timid to step up to the starting line, so it was just me and some other guy with 18 people behind us. I realized something after the start... I really have no idea of what kind of course this was. No real instruction was given. I assumed it was an out-and-back, and that there would be some indication of the turnaround when the time came. I jumped out to an early lead, but another guy and a girl kept very close. They overcame me after the first mile (6:31). The real difficulty came at 1.5 miles into the race. On our left was a small oval road connecting with the street on which we were racing. I thought it would be perfect for a turnaround. However, the two people in front of me never broke stride and sped right past it. They looked fairly confident, so I kept with them. After all, if I stopped to ask for directions and was wrong, any chance of victory would have been shot. I glanced behind me and saw one person, following close behind me. That was all I needed to see, and kept going. I started having slight reservations about my decision shortly thereafter when we hit hills. Lots of hills. The race director said this course was flat, but I figured he may have just been someone who chuckled at any hill not of monstrous size. Being that we were in a state park, I figured this may have been a circular road that we were on, and that eventually I would run down a hill and see familiar ground. My pace slowed tremendously on the hills. My mind focused less on stride and turnover and more on whether or not I was on the right course. Then, there was hope. As my watch ticked past 3 miles, I saw another hill in front of me. (I should note here that the starting line was at the bottom of a hill, running on a strait away from it). Surely, I thought, on the other side of this hill will be the start/finish line. I sped over the hill, and only saw a completely unfamiliar fork in the road. The race leader was no longer in site, and may have been halfway to Delaware by this point. I had past by 3.13 miles maybe around 22:15 or so. Not tremendous, but not horrible considering the hills and distractions of the course (or lack thereof). Now at 3.30 miles, the would-be first-overall-female and I resigned to being well off course. She made the remark, "I wasn't expecting a 10K today." I chuckled, and started to jog back. I figured I might as well just do a long cool-down. Then, I noticed she was serious. She took off to do a second 5K. I decided I could not come back from running off course 10 minutes behind someone else, and picked up the pace myself. It wasn't until the 4-mile mark that I realized the gravity of the situation. I hit 4 miles in about 29:00. I did some quick math and said, "Forget Hospice, I'm breaking a 45:00 10K today." Aided by hills we had run up during the first half of the run, I got my second wind. I hit pretty good times for miles 4 and 5, but the real test would be the final mile. True, from mile 1.5 - 3.3 was a lot of uphill action, but I got to run downhill on the way back. From 4.75 miles to the start/finish line would be all flat, so I would not be aided by gravity. I thought I was running into trouble shortly after the five mile marker. My mind began focusing in on the fact that I needed water. I cramped slightly, but did my best to run through it, and ran the sixth mile in 7:04. I decided not to kick-in the last 0.25 miles of the unofficial 10K, as I still had another quarter mile left after that. Instead, my watch ticked past the 6.25 mile marker at 44:41, well enough under to beat out a margin of error by the Forerunner. When I got back to the start finish, the race director called out my "time," and then added loudly, "... for a 5K!!!" I asked him if was joking, but didn't receive much of a response. I think a couple of club members may have been trying to argue that this was my fault, but were quickly silenced when I gave my arguments: (1) No official word was given by the race director of this being out-and-back. (2) No marker for the turn-around. Someone said he was yelling at us to turn around, but he was apparently 150-200 meters behind me (per Alden). Honestly, I was bitter at first (when I turned around after the first 5K), but got over it when I realized I would set an unofficial 10K PR. However, I started to get worked up when the race director gave me a "no big deal, better luck next time" attitude. He sarcastically suggested that he would have markers and people stationed at the turnaround next year. I told him, "Yeah, or just announce the turnaround at the start." It's safe to say that I'll probably stick with the BRRC for my local low-key races. One thing would have fixed all of the issues with this race: A cone. Maybe an arrow. Last time I checked, cones are not expensive. I'm trying to get past that again, but I keep coming back to the RD being a jerk. I'm thinking about writing an email to the BRRC to thank them for their low-key races being well-organized and well-marked, with enthusiastic volunteers at actual water stations. I'll try to be happier that I set an unofficial 10K time, but I'm worried about the not-so-great 5K split I ran. I wish I could say it was all because of the hills, but honestly I wasn't feeling it in the first 1.5 miles of the course. Can I chalk it up to not much work in past months of short, fast intervals? Most of my hard workouts have been either tempo runs or longer intervals closer to 10K pace. I'll likely still keep my goal for Hospice as breaking 45:00 officially, but at least I now know that it can be done. It'll be interesting to see what I can do at Hospice if I go out closer to 7:00 rather than 6:30 Unofficial splits: 1- 6:31 2- 6:55 3- 7:52 (Hills, mental blocks due to course) 4- 7:34 (jogging for a bit after the turnaround) 5- 6:58 (a lot of downhill) 6- 7:04 (flat, but a decent final mile considering I wasn't prepared to run a 10K) 0.25- 7:01 pace I didn't turn in a time card. This will be about as unofficial as a finish can get..

I'll let Alden tell his story, if he so chooses. He did better than at Hospice last year. Also, this would be Alden's first official victory over me head-to-head. I figure there's two ways of looking at this... (1) I was disqualified for going so far off course, or (2) I wasn't DQ'd, but I crossed the finish line in over 46 minutes. After the drop in his time, I told Alden it would probably be a matter of a few years before he's a better runner than me. I truly do believe that. I'm not saying it will be as a result of me no longer trying, but just because he doesn't seem to be leveling off anytime soon in terms of improvement.

Sounds like you had a productive weekend in terms of races. My knees feel banged up after today, so I can't imagine what it takes to knock out two races in one weekend.

Two races in one weekend --- the weekend after a marathon! I was content with the three mild maintenance miles I ran yesterday (first post-marathon run) and the eight miles I did on a bicycle today in the cold rain. The latter exercise actually messed my knees and shins up pretty good, as one can't cycle anywhere around my area without ascending hindering hills.

Congrats on your marathon, DR! My PRs: 5K - 23:27. 10K: 56:20. 13.1mi: 2:23:46. 26.2: 4:44:30. The Susquehanna thing today ended up being a bunch of old pals who like to get together for a race, or maybe several, each year. They happened to put this on a website, and we bit. We got what we paid for in terms of organization, I thought it was a kind of nice, low-key event. Don't need fanciness. I totalled about 19 miles today. After the race, I headed up to the NCR trail for my long run. Fell asleep in the car before opening the door. I slept for 2 hours. See, even despite trying I could not fall asleep Saturday night. Ideas kept racing through my mind. Finally at 5AM when Rick came down i had an excuse to go back to do some more reading. Back up a little bit. I'm trying to get back on a day cycle. I pulled an all-nighter Thursday night, hoping that by Friday I'd sleep soundly through the night. Didnt work, still slept 1am-1pm Saturday. Did not sleep Saturday night whatsoever. Dozed 2 hours at 10AM this morning. Now I'm wide awake at 1AM. Damnit. And on Tuesday I start an 8hr day course at 8:30am. Gonna be interesting.