Notes
While the outcome of the race didn’t turn out as expected the overall marathon weekend was awesome. Last year, my cousin Ben also ran Maine, and this year his sister Amanda was running the full with me too. Amanda is living Brooklyn and I had the chance to pick her up in South Station on Saturday morning which meant we would have a couple of hours together to pick up bibs, have lunch, and catch up. This was particularly awesome because she is one of my favorite people, and her mother died a few years back so the time we spend with Ben and Amanda seem that much more important. Lots of discussion on the way up to Hampton, and lots of laughs. We get up to Hampton a little early so we grab some lunch, have a couple of Smuttynose Octoberfests, and meet a guy named Tim Poole who is apparently a member of the Winner’s Circle who knows Bob, Michelle, and a bunch of other people. He lives down the street and is a pacer for the 9 minute group in the half. We talk to Tim for about 20 minutes and then head over to pick up our bibs and the ugliest race shirts you’ve ever seen. The Smuttynose logo looks like some kind of mutant seal and the shirts are this nasty pee yellow color. Get to Sanford to watch Connor play soccer, and I can hear the moms whispering about Amanda, and the insinuation was almost like, “how does a guy like that have a sister who looks like that?” Um no, it’s my cousin. The reaction was like, “ok, that makes more sense”. Hang out for the rest of the day and overall very low key. Up early, and get to the course around 6:50 or so. It’s freezing on the water and the wind is whipping. Amanda is a little freaked out by this but I think it’s perfect. The majority of the course is inland and the cool temps will be perfect for us. Amanda is a great distraction for me, and I’m not really nervous at all and her company keeps me from worrying about my foot. There are so many people at Smuttynose I have no idea where the starting line is and I can’t see anything. There is a sea of people and I mostly see runners with the aqua colored bib that indicates they are running the Half. This is a little concerning because all I am looking for is the orange marathon bibs. I bet the ration of Half to Marathon runners in my general vicinity is 20 to 1. We have no idea where we will be going, and I honestly don’t remember the announcements, a gun, or the national anthem (I’m not even sure if any of these things happen). The group starts running and we are packed. As we cross the starting line I realize that my watch has power saved so I am not going to be able to get an accurate reading from the beginning. By the time I get a signal and start the timer a minute or 2 has gone by. No worries, I’ll figure it out as soon as I see a mile marker and clock. At the 1st mile marker I hit the split button but don’t see the distance that has ticked off so I can’t do the math around the start time. I figure I am around 8:45 – 9 for the first mile or so (turns out I’m at 8:44). The course is packed with people and the Half Marathoners are running very slow. I do everything I can not to start dodging these people because I know I will burn energy. The fact I am passing very slow runners gets me in a nice rhythm and I want to run by feel without going out to fast. I have not real goal but figure I will be somewhere between 3:45 and 4 depending on how the foot holds up. As I look at my splits after the race I had no idea that I ran that many miles around 8 or under 8 through 16. I don’t know if I lost focus or just got swept up in the moment but I felt great and didn’t think I would blow up. At 6 miles I’m just under 50 minutes and feel great. I think I can hold an 8+ pace through 10 and then will pick it up. Miles keep ticketing away and then I go just under 8 mins for the 10th mile and tell myself to hold this through 15 if possible. It doesn’t feel super easy but it’s certainly not a big effort either. Even at 8:29 for 15 I’m not worried or 8:53 for 16. I look at the watch and figure I am around 2:13 at worst, and even if run 10s the rest of the way I have a PR but don’t anticipate for a second what’s about to happen. 9:28 for Mile 17 and I’m still not nervous. If I can just keep running somewhere in the 9s thru 20, and then run 10s I’m good. A guaranteed PR. At 19 I run in the 11s and my legs feel are heavy. All I want to do is stop. By 20 I realize it’s over and there is nothing I can about it. Even at sub 3, I am just completely done. The lack of real miles of the last 7 or 8 weeks has caught up to me, and I go into survival mode. I walk some, retie my shoes a bunch, and really hurting. Kyle Robideaux from Sanford runs by me around the 21 mile mark and I say hello. He turns around and sees that I am walking, and starts to head toward to check in but I yell to him to keep going. My fear now becomes that my cousin is going to pass me. The last 3 miles or so I am on the coast and it’s a complete death march at this point. I want to stop, or finish, or just get this fucking thing over with. Around 26 I see my family again. All the same people from last year. They see me and start yelling but you can see it on their faces that I am not where I am supposed to be. I finish and see that the time on the clock says 4:27+. I know I am probably around 4:17 or so. They put a blanket on me and I notice how warm it keeps me. I am extremely tight, lightheaded, and very pissed off. I dread seeing my family. I walk around for a few minutes and Amanda comes in. We sit down on the benches by the beach, and she is really tight too. She’s not happy either and had a similar experience as I do with the walking and the death march. When the family sees me they know I am pissed off and it’s a little awkward and they don’t know what to say. My Uncle Jack and Mom focus on the accomplishment of the finish. Ask about my foot, etc. I explained that the foot didn’t bother me until it was already over. But they are great, and give me space because I think they understand how I am. Amanda and I walk to the car which is about a block away but I am very dizzy and hungry. I have to sit down 3 times on the sidewalk before getting to the car. When we get to the car we blast the heat try to put on dry clothes and get comfortable sitting which is impossible. After several minutes, I drink some water and Gatorade, and have some chocolate covered pretzels that Amanda has in her bag. I turn it around pretty quickly and then we have a few laughs about how the family wants us to go to this restaurant that’s “only .4 of mile down the street”. We can barely move but we are together and laugh about how ridiculous this is. Amanda tells me some horror stories about what happen to her on the course with gastro/female issue around mile 21. We laugh more. I’m glad she was with me because it would have been a pity party without her. We meet the family at the restaurant and they give us a nice ovation as we come down the steps to the bar. The place is filled with Halloween stuff and I sarcastically hug the dummy of the Grim Reaper on my left which is life sized. It seems fitting. Have a single Octoberfest and take my sandwich to go as I head back Sanford to watch Connor play soccer. The parents of the players on the sideline are great, congratulate me on the finish and it’s another good distraction after being pissed off about what just happened. I am somewhere between being pissed off and proud of myself. I know the running reason was far from ideal, and I made some big racing mistakes this year but it was another series of learning experiences for me. This sucks, and there’s no way around it. The only silver lining to this running season is that I finally feel like a runner, and I have the ugly race shirts to prove it.