More details to come, but I can define TOU in two words: Bonk City. Yuck. Too bad, because the race is great and I loved the course, but the legs just were not there, and I wasn't tough enough to overcome them.
OK, here we go, 48 hours later. Splits are from the autolap on my Garmin, set for 1.01 miles (it read 26.48 total, so that is pretty darn close).
I slept pretty well, given how I generally don't deal well with hotels. Up at 4 a.m., got dressed, went to the lobby to get some breakfast and wait for the bus. Felt physically OK, but a little weird psychologically. Not the normal prerace butterflies, almost like I knew I wasn't going to run well (self-fulfilling prophecy?). Bus finally arrived, went to Olsen Park, got off one bus and right back on another one, then headed for Hardware Ranch and the start. Couldn't see any of the course in the dark, but Mike and I had already driven the course on Friday afternoon, so I'd seen everything already. We get to Hardward Ranch, and it's raining, but there's a heated tent there to keep us dry, and it wasn't as crowded as I had expected. I found Mike and his group inside (or they saw me and called me over, more accurately), so we chatted for a while. Went up for one more bathroom break -- Candace hit the portapotties, Mike and I found other secluded locations. Mike and Candace were going to wait until well after the start to let the traffic clear, but I was going to try to run with the 3:30 pace group, so I headed down the hill to find them.
Found them quite quickly, and the pacer told me he was shooting for a 3:00 positive split and handed me a pace band. Three minutes sounded a bit aggressive, but I thought I'd give it a try; maybe the downhill would allow me to do that without emptying the tank. The first gun went off for the wheelchair racers; five minutes later, the second gun for the rest of us. Then, about 45 seconds later, some idiot fired off a cannon or howitzer or mortar or something, just as I ran by. I thought for a second my right eardrum had burst, and that ear still isn't quite right.
Anyway, the pacer took off at a 7:45 pace, and I could not keep up. At all. Not just because of the traffic, but because the legs weren't going that fast. OK, I decided, forget the pace group, let's just try to even split this course, save some energy to have for the second half.
First mile was 97 feet net downhill, but I ran 8:03. OK, fine, chalk that up to early congestion, but things are starting to thin out.
Second mile, 78 feet down, another 8:03, but the traffic is thinning. I am noticing that the altitude (5614' at the start) seems to be having an impact in that I'm sucking a little air, but something that happens at sea level too for the first couple of miles before I settle in. Legs don't feel highly energetic, but nothing hurts.
Mile 3, 7:59, 44 feet down. OK, this is more like it. Course is very twisty and turny, and the pace bunny is long out of sight, so I give up any thought of catching him. I see a blonde with pigtails, a white running skirt and a wide-elbows stride, easily recognizable, so I lock on her and try to keep up/catch up. She would stay in my sights for about 14 miles. I'm also really trying to run the tangents on all of the turns, while the blonde is doing nothing of the sort. She's pretty much hugging the yellow lines in the center of the road. I'd be willing to bet if she wore a Garmin, it read at least 27 miles at the finish.
Mile 4. 64 feet down. I'd made one last bathroom stop before the start, but at this point the bladder is feeling uncomfortably full, so I hit the portapotty at the mile marker. Only took a few seconds, and I got the fourth mile in 8:14. Lost a few seconds, but maybe I can make them up now that the bladder is empty. This is the first time I've ever had to take a whiz during a race, BTW. Usually it's a little full, I ignore it and the urge goes away (or my body reabsorbs some of the fluid, not sure which). But not today.
Mile 5, 55 feet down. Legs still not very lively, but I seem to be settling into this pace, and I make up five seconds I lost in the portapotty with a 7:55. And we're now back below 5280' above sea level, so no longer mile-high, and the breathing seems to be getting easier, whether it's because we're lower down or because I've gotten through the early-race stuff.
Mile 6, 48 feet down. Make up another six seconds with a 7:54, and I'm really focusing on the tangents, while the blonde doesn't. At some point, don't remember exactly where, I caught her, but that didn't last long, maybe a mile.
Mile 7, 98 feet downhill, and I turn in a 7:56. Probably should have pushed that mile a little harder, but at this point I'm back on schedule with an average of just over 8:00, even with the bathroom break.
Mile 8, 110 feet downhill. This one, I take better advantage with a 7:45, and I'm now below goal average. One hour, four minutes into the race. Just have to hold this for 146 more minutes.
Mile 9, 58 feet downhill. It would be a mistake to assume that this course was downhill all the way. There is some rolling stuff in there. The constants are the mountains on either side, and the Blacksmith Fork River is usually close to the course. I turn in an 8:04 for this mile, as it flattened out a bit, but I'm still under GMP.
Mile 10, only 28 feet downhill, and I crept back up to an 8:10. In retrospect, this may be where I started sensing that the second half would not go well.
Mile 11, 27 feet downhill, and 8:04. Now the average is back over 8:01, which is basically what I need for sub-3:30. I didn't burn myself up on the downhill -- or did I?
Mile 12, 92 feet downhill, and I absolutely did not take advantage. 8:12. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned the weather since the start. It was probably low 40s, maybe high 30s at the start. It's warmed up a little since then with the sun coming up -- if you could see the sun. Which we haven't. It's been raining off and on, mostly on, and there's been hail and all kinds of fun stuff. I can feel the beginnings of a blister on my left foot from the wet socks, and my lightweight Kinvaras are no longer so light. Plus there has been thunder and lightning, lots of it. I would learn on Sunday that they considered stopping the race because of the lightning, but there was no good way to get 2000+ runners off the course in that canyon. By this point, the storm is actually easing off, but there are wet spots on the course that have to be dodged a bit.
Mile 13, 85 feet downhill. We're almost out of the canyon. But now I have another concern. The GI tract is starting to act up. I actually did not eat very much for breakfast, had my usual two pitstops before I got on the bus, and I've just had one gel at about mile 7, but now the colon is complaining. I've been known to ignore such urges in the past and they (sometimes) go away, so that's the plan for now. And it did ease off, temporarily. Mile 13 split was 8:08. We finally hit a timing mat for the tracking, and it was 1:44:49 at 13. Slightly over goal pace, but I'm still hoping I've saved some energy and can at least run even splits, which would get me a PR. I'm not sure, but I think at this point, the blonde is long gone.
Mile 14, 78 feet downhill. The legs are not feeling good right now. Glutes, hip flexors, IT bands all hurting. The quads are fine. People talk about downhills trashing their quads; it hasn't happened to me yet. But my last mile in the canyon is 8:04. And the GI issues are not going away. I'm not anxious for a chocolate mile, but I'll push this as long as I can.
Mile 15, 73 feet downhill even though we're out of the canyon. Another 8:08. Really needing to go to the bathroom, but both portapotties are full at the aid station. So onward I slog.
Mile 16, 48 feet downhill. I'm going to lose this GI battle at some point, and it's going to be now. I finally give up and hit the portapotty, and this mile winds up being 9:10. I'm hoping that the little 45-second break will rejuvenate my legs for a while.
Mile 17, 47 feet downhill. We're now out on the main highway in Nibley. Legs did feel a little better, and I did this mile in 8:07. Probably not going to get a PR, but maybe I can at least break 3:35 and be able to submit a Boston entry on Monday.
Mile 18, 46 feet downhill. Still on the highway in Nibley. The legs are not. Feeling. Good. I'm sensing an imminent bonk and there's not a thing I can do about it. 8:32 for this mile.
Mile 19, turned off the main highway and starting the last 8 miles of twisting and turning. And the bonk is here. The walk monster jumped on my back shortly after we turned off the highway. I'm trying to keep the walks short, but this mile is 10:32. This mile is also actually uphill 47 feet, but the hill is not why I'm walking.
Mile 20, and the bonk continues. Somewhere in here, the 3:40 pace group passes me. This was my worst mile of the day: 13:02. I'm starting to wonder if (a) I should just bag it and DNF, (b) if I don't bag it, can I finish in less than four hours, and (c) can I keep Mike and Candace from passing me before the finish? Mile 20 is basically flat, only 9 feet uphill, but when you're walking, it doesn't matter.
Mile 21, 70 feet downhill going into the community of Providence. A little more running and a little less walking, but it's still 11:22. Just don't let Mike catch me.
Mile 22, actually 12 feet uphill, but a bit of a recovery; I did this mile in less than 10 minutes. I'm sure there was a little walking in there, but better.
Mile 23, 26 feet downhill. Mike, Candace and I ran the last 3-miles plus of the course together on Friday afternoon, and I know exactly where we started, right around the 23-mile marker. At this point, my goal is just to run that last segment without stopping. I certainly didn't run mile 23 without stopping; time was 12:08.
Mile 24. I started running right where I had started the preceding afternoon. However, the goal to keep going for the last 3.2 without walking didn't happen. This mile (36 feet downhill) was 10:55.
Mile 25. OK, screw this. I'm going to break four hours, I'm not going to let Mike and Candace catch me, and I'm going to do these last 2.2 without walking. I may be in pain, but I can run 2.2 miles without stopping. And I did this mile, in 9:19. We're on Main Street in Logan here, and I'll be darned if I walk through downtown, even if there is an uphill here. Net for the mile was 7 feet up. I'm not running very fast, but I am running.
Mile 26. Turned off Main Street, over one block, back south for five blocks, then over a block to turn for the finish. There's a little downhill here, the same one we went up in Mile 25, but this mile is net flat. Thanks to that little down hill, I "sprinted" to a 9:03.
Mile 26.22. East on 200 South, north a block and a half on 200 East into the park and the finish. I guess I managed something impersonating a sprint, or at least back to what I should have been running. This last section was in 1:43. Across the line in 3:54:52. Sub-4, Mike didn't catch me, and I ran those last 2.2 without walking. Three minor victories.
Get across the line, get my cool medal with the moose engraved on it, and head for the food and fluid. The legs are really, really wobbly. I see some people coming across the line behind me who have blue lips and are shivering. I'm shivering a little myself, and I wouldn't be surprised if my lips were blue too. It hasn't rained in an hour, but it's still quite chilly and overcast. I thought about lying down and propping my feet up on a tree to drain some of the lactic acid, but I wasn't sure I could get up if I did that. I did find a chair for a few minutes to get off my feet. I also went over to get my bag from the bag drop and put on a longsleeved shirt, which felt much better. The shivering stopped once I got the shirt on, and I'm eating and drinking everything I can get my hands on -- ice cream, cheese, fruit. AMazingly passed on the cups full of goldfish crackers, which I usually eat by the handful.
Mike finds me a few minutes later. Candace didn't quite make her goal either, running a 4:01:14, and she'd gotten a little wobbly too. I wound up 108 places in front of her in the final standings, and 109 in front of Mike.
They had shuttle buses to take us back to our hotels, and I went over to catch one. But when no bus showed up in 15 minutes, I decided if I could walk back to my hotel in Boston, I could walk back in Logan. And I did. By now, the clouds are completely gone and it's a beautiful, clear, cool day (temp around 60 by this point). My path takes me by that one-block section of the course on 300 North where they turned off Main, and I'm cheering on the people who are still on course as I walk back to the hotel. And I'm really glad when I get to the hotel that there's an elevator -- and that I didn't forget to take my room key. But housekeeping is in my room when I arrive, so filling up the whirlpool tub has to wait. I update Facebook from my phone, then fill the tub with warm water when the housekeeper leaves.
What went wrong? So many possibilities. Too much indoor training. Too little hill work. Not enough taper. Bad carbload. The altitude. Too old? Maybe even too MUCH training. Remember, goofball, you got a BQ on a nine-week cycle. Maybe 20 weeks is just too much. But I don't have 20 weeks before CIM, I have 11. So if I nail CIM on a short cycle, that will answer a lot of my questions.
But, finally and for once, I DID NOT CRAMP in a marathon. | 