Notes
Houston Marathon.
65-68 degrees, 100% humidity. Wind mostly below 10 mph.
I knew this one wasn't going to be fun, and definitely didn't plan on a PR. I'm thankful it wasn't even hotter, though I wish it would have just rained on me instead of being humid.
My hot/windy/humid run last week put my 160 HR pace around 8:00-8:10 to be conservative. That was a little warmer and windier but a good approximation. I planned on starting out at 8:20 and keeping it between there and 8:00 for the first 10. Then, if things felt OK I would work down from there. I did that and sort of hung with the 3:40 pace group through about mile 6. As it was, I felt better than expected after 10. I didn't even hit 160 HR until mile 11, so if it weren't for my worry over the weather, I would have said this was too conservative (chicken) pace. At 10-11 miles, I was feeling good effort-wise, and I didn't feel hot, but my left quad was hurting some unexpectedly. Not too bad, but I chalked it up to not running this slow of a pace very much and maybe the slight downhill combined with my complete lack of any hills for the last month. I remember enjoying the Rice University area. That's when I felt the best. My music player died around mile 11 though. Sweat, I guess. RIP, Sansa Clip.
I ramped it up to about 7:40-7:50 pace, trying to avoid shooting my HR up. I got a little scared at the overpass around mile 12 through about mile 13. If there would have been more hills, I think that would have killed me, just because I couldn't afford to expend much. I saw a guy with selfie stick narrating some kind of video as he ran around mile 12. He was speaking a foreign language, so not sure what he was talking to his camera about. 13-17 were boring but not difficult. I was just biding my time to see what 20 felt like. Somewhere between 15 and 16 there was a Brookdale home with old ladies out cheering, and it made me smile. I kept seeing people quit, though. The med bikes were everywhere. Guys, even elites, were needing help. Maybe cramps? Achilles?
It felt like roughly around mile 18, there was a lot of gradual downhill and I kind of just went with it. By this time, I was hoping to make my average pace be 8:00 by mile 20, then I could run 7:30's or so and maybe beat my PR (3:26). I didn't realize it at the time, but my calculations or memory of what paces I needed were off. Anyway, mile 18 was a faster one, and I had figured I needed to hit 7:36 for the rest of the race, so tried to keep it there. I finally passed the 3:30 pace group at mile 21. I had been wondering where they were, since I figured I was ahead of 3:30 pace by that point, but hadn't accounted for their gun time being a few minutes ahead. I stayed reasonably close to 7:36 pace through mile 23. Now that I look at my splits, it looks like mile 24 was close also, but I know mentally I was giving up by then. I think the last part of mile 24, I was slipping way down and just had no will to push any harder at all. There were several underpasses that were killer to come out of. I remember people cheering my name (which they could read from my bib), and it wasn't encouraging at all to me at that point. It just felt like taunting. I'm doing all I can, OK? I may just be remembering snippets of really slow moments, but I can recall seeing 10:xx pace on my watch at some point. Must have only been momentary. And good Lord, how long could that post-26 stretch be? It just went ages and ages. At some point in there, some of the 3:30 pace group guys re-passed me. I held on for like 4 seconds. I wanted to vomit for the only time I can remember while running, except for intervals. This is the weakest my legs have ever felt during a race, even though I don't think I taxed my heart as much as that DRC half in 2012.
Anyhow, over and done. Course itself does seem fast. Somehow feels like it's a lot of very gradual downhill, which is nice. The weather was not so good, though. And this is the most crowded, biggest race I've ever been in and I didn't appreciate being herded like cattle everywhere and being made to stand still in large rooms full of people with no room to move. The actual race they did a good job of separating slowies and walkers.