TNF Endurance Mid-Atlantic 50K - June 1, 2013

Warm Day

Barry, Shirley and Rebecca (l. to r.)

Saturday promises to be a hot day, with temperatures close to 90 degrees for my second North Face Endurance Challenge 50K (TNF).  Emaad B. cites the hot weather as a  reason not to start the race.  I look at the bright side: with hot weather the choice of clothing is very simple.  I just need shorts and a short sleeve shirt. No need to worry about long/short sleeves, layers, gloves, tights or hats.

Barry and Rebecca show up at my house right on time to head to Sterling VA for the parking for the shuttle to Algonkian Regional Park for the start of the race.  Rebecca, who believes that no one should go hungry ever, brings a box of colossal-sized donuts. Barry eats one, or at least half of one.  The school bus shuttle gets us to the park in plenty of time to check our bags, use the facilities and get ready for the day.  We meet Shirley S. at the start and the four of us decide to run together, or at least to start together.  Given the weather no one has a sense of urgency or desire to push the pace.

Outbound!
To help spread out the field for the single track that begins a few hundred yards from the start, TNF starts the field in three waves a couple of minutes apart.  The race is chip-timed so there is no penalty starting in the later waves.  The four of us start well toward the rear of the the third and final heat.

It is a bit warm but not particularly unpleasant at the 7:00 a.m. start.  We are grateful that we do not have to deal with the shoe-sucking mud from last year.  We chat amiably as we go along and make sure to keep an eye out for golfers, and more importantly, golf balls, as the Potomac Heritage Trail makes its way across the golf course at the park.  We cross without incident.  After the golf course, the trail alternates between flat stretches near the Potomac and climbing and descending some hills that move away from the river.

Rebecca and I stick together through the first aid station with Barry and Shirley not far behind. A mile or two later Barry and Shirley catch up with us.  We go on together for awhile and somewhere around mile 13 I unwittingly pull away from them for the rest of the day.

Staying Hydrated
One drawback of TNF for the unwary is that several of the aid stations are significantly further apart than some runners are used to.  The first aid station is 5.7 miles from the start (there is an unofficial one about three miles from the start), and then the next aid station is 6.7 miles farther on. The 6.7 mile section has to be traversed on the way back to the finish as well.

Barry snaps pic of the Potomac

Especially on a hot day making sure one has adequate nutrition and hydration is critical.  Rebecca is carrying a handheld bottle, but the other three of us are all using camelbacks.  Later in the day, on the return, Rebecca will run dry. Fortunately she was able to get water from an emergency medical personnel who she met on the trail between aid stations.

After my experience at the Bull Run Run 50 miler in April where I lost track of when I last ate a gel or took a Succeed! salt capsule I'm determined today to set a schedule and stick to it.  I decide on a gel every 45 minutes and a salt tablet every hour.  I stick to the schedule the entire day, regardless of how those times coincide with the appearance of aid stations.  As an added benefit, Clif Bar is a sponsor of the race, and the aid stations are stocked with Clif Shot gels, reducing the need to start the race carrying a day's worth of gels.

I carry six Succeeds with me.  Someplace around mile 22 or so I spot a small plastic bag on the trail.  I stop and pick it up and it appears to have two Succeeds in it.  I can't be certain of that, but they are intact and certainly look like the kind of thing a runner might have dropped.  When it is time for the next Succeed I decide to try one of the finds.  With no adverse effects over the next hour, I take the second found one.  I hate waste.

Newbies
As usual, I chat with folks as we run along and observe the runners that I pass and that pass me. (I text the description of one runner with Emaad to emphasize what he is missing, but there is no need here to repeat my observations.)

The first thing that stands out is that there are a higher than usual number of first time trail and ultrarunners than at most races.  Perhaps it is due to the commercial nature of the race and the fact that The North Face is a prime sponsor of the race.  The series is actually managed by Hawkeye, a marketing company that "designs, develops, manages and flawlessly executes experiential programs"  for its corporate clients, including TNF and the NCAA.  From the number of participants who tell me that this is either their first ultra or their first trail run it is clear that as part of "The North Face Endurance Challenge" the Hawkeye "experiential team is planning and executing live programs for clients [like TNF] who want to bring their brands to their consumers in unique, relevant and memorable ways."  If TNF is a brand that is supposed to be for customers interested in outdoor adventures (suitably attired and equipped, of course) they are succeeding in bringing people out to the trail.

The second thing I notice is that the participants are appreciably younger than the usual group of ultrarunners.  There is a bit of a joke in the ultrarunning community that as one gets older and slower one runs longer and longer.  Maybe that is because we have more leisure time or are more patient.  But the TNF clearly attracts a younger crowd.

One of the consequences of having newer and younger runners is that they are not prepared as well for this particular race as veteran runners.  During the long 6.7 mile stretch between the first and second aid stations I catch up with two women running together.  One has a camelback, but the other is running with no bottle or water carrier of any kind. I gently suggest that staying hydrated today will be important.  Fortunately they are sisters so they have already been sharing from the camelback.  But the time is still before 10:00 a.m. and the day will be heating up.  I urge them to be sure to take gels or eat salty foods at the aid stations.

There is Always One of These
Some trail runners are tough. Some are nuts. Some are both.  All three types run trails.

The trail by Mather Gorge of the Potomac

While running the convoluted but well marked loops and out-and-backs in Great Falls Park I spot a 50-mile runner walking with her knee professionally taped up but a hint of blood staining it.

"Close encounter with the ground?," I inquire.

She answers in the affirmative. "I've had it taped twice," she says. "The paramedics told me I need stitches.  I told them I still have 30 miles to go to the finish."

On that note she starts running again.

Trail Discounts
Rebecca and I are going to run Marathon du Medoc in September.  This year's theme is Science Fiction so we have ordered Steam Punk patterned shirts.  I'm wearing mine to try it out.

As I pass a shirtless runner wearing a kilt (see There is Always One of These, above) he asks if it is from  InkNBurn.  When I say it is, he gets excited.

"I'm an InkNBurn Ambassador," he says.  "Take these cards and enter the code "Christoldme" and you will get a discount on your next order at InkNBurn."

He sees me glance at his kilt, decidedly not an InkNBurn product. "I'm also an ambassador for kilts for running," he adds.

Getting Hot
Running in Great Falls Park give us an opportunity to see the 50 mile runners who started two hours ahead of the 50K runners.  They have to run three laps of the Great Falls section, while we only do one loop.  Marathoners, who start two hours behind the 50K runners turn around at the entrance to Great Falls. Leaving Great Falls about 19.3 miles into the race the time is about 11:40 a.m.  The day is definitely heating up.  While much of the race is in the woods, there are some fields to cross and the mid-day sun adds another  ten or more degrees to the heat.  During this 6.7 mile stretch to the next aid station I'm repeatedly glancing at my watch and trying to figure when I'll arrive at it, based on the time it took on the outbound run.  I'm disappointed when an hour and 43 minutes rolls around (the outbound time) and there is no aid station in sight.  It takes another ten minutes to arrive at it.  The pace is almost 17 minutes per mile, barely faster than a walking pace.

The pace to the next aid station at mile 29.3 is hardly better even though most of it is on a flat stretch skirting through the golf course. With the end figuratively in sight, and marathon relay runners now on this section of the course, I pick up the pace to a 12:41 per mile.  Even that feels harsh in the sun, and I take frequent walks on flat, level surfaces that are otherwise easy to run.

I cross the finish in 7:49:19, more than 40 minutes slower than during last year's muddy trudge.  I sit down at a shaded table and An, Rebecca's boy friend finds me and brings me shaved ice cones, which are greatly refreshing.

Rebecca crosses the line in 8:01.  Either she is barely coherent or I'm incapable of comprehension. Neither of us can quite understand each other for a short while.  Shirley finishes in 8:19 and Barry in 8:27.

Nice Guys Finish Last First.  So Do Old Guys.
Reviewing the results the next day bear out my suspicions that the TNF demographic skews young. Barry finishes second in the male 60-64 year old age group.  I finish first.

Barry, Rebecca, Shirley and I show off our medals
(courtesy of Barry S.)

But that is not so remarkable, it turns out.  We are the only two males in the age group.  And at 62 I'm the oldest 50K finisher, male or female.

One other 60+ male runs the 50 mile TNF race. So a total of only three 60+ males out of 482 male finishers ran the 50M and 50K at TNF (0.6%).  Compare that to the 17 60+ males out of 287 male finishers (5.9%) who ran Bull Run Run 50 Miler in April. And there is no 50K option there.

Unfortunately for us, there are no age group prizes, just the satisfaction of knowing that we still are . . . tough? Nuts? Both? Like all runners over 21, we got to enjoy our complementary beer at the finish area, although Barry had to show proof of age to be admitted to the beer area!

TNF50K swag: shirt, medal, Smartwool sox and bib

Bull Run Run 50 Mile - April 6, 2013

Training?  I Don't Need No Stinking Training!

Jennifer W. and I set out to run Bull Run together.  We last ran a race together at the Black Hills 100K last June, where I dropped out just short of the turn-around and she went on alone to finish the race.

Gandalf, aka Mark Z, at the start

Due to a variety of reasons Jennifer has been a bit short of training this year.  Well, actually way more than a bit short.  Since Black Hills Jennifer has run one 14-mile training run and a couple of 12-mile training runs.  And some shorter runs.  I believe in the "Bare Bones Training Theorem" which holds that if you can run half the distance you can run the entire distance. But we are talking about running three and a half times the distance.  Jennifer is one of - no maybe the - toughest runners that I know, so if anyone can do it, she can.

We carpool to the race together and I tell her that I will stick with her throughout the day.

Championship Three-peat?

Team MCRRC Absolute Zeroes is back in an effort to win the award for the slowest team for the third consecutive year.  Jim D., Larry B., Caroline W. and I make you the team.  We expect a challenge from Team Rocket, put together by (disgruntled?) one-time Absolute Zero Mark Z and consisting of Mark, Jennifer, Mike E. and Stephanie F.  Jennifer and I will cancel each other out, so it will depend on how the rest of both teams perform.  May the slowest team win!

Beautiful Day for a Run

Ken and Jennifer in the bluebells
(courtesy of Aaron Schwartzbard)

The weather is pretty much perfect for the race.  A little cool at the start but a day that warmed up a bit in the afternoon.  Rain earlier in the week had assured that the course would not be dusty, but there was not so much rain that the course was muddy or that the streams were high.  All the stream crossings were navigable without the need to get one's feet wet.

Normal seasonal temperatures also assured that the bluebells were in full bloom when we ran through them.

Fields of Bluebells

Steady as She Goes
Jennifer and I start out slower than I have in my previous four BRRs.  This is partly to give her a chance to settle into a comfortable pace for the day and partly for me to avoid my typical BRR strategy of going out too fast and having a miserable final 12 miles.

Crossing Rocky Run with Jennifer following
(courtesy Mike Bur)

We enjoy our trip through the bluebells.  A runner tells us of a story during a 100-mile race of hallucinating a small girl sitting by the side of the trail.  His wife assures him that there is no child so he goes on.  He credits the training from his U.S. Navy chief for preparing him for such moments.

Too slow?
Our slow strategy works almost too well. Through the first 16 miles and back to the Hemlock aid station (which is also where the race starts and end) we are on a pace well above 12 hours.  It seems to me that leaves little margin for error to make the 13 hour cutoff if we have a tough last section of the course.  On the other hand, if we can stay steady we'll be in good shape.

Jennifer alongside Bull Run

At Hemlock I change my shirt and get rid of my hat.  Mike E. of Team Rocket is there also changing some gear.  Because of the out and back nature of the first part of the course, we have seen the other members of the two teams on the course, with Mark and Stephanie of Team Rocket behind, as is Jim D.  Larry and Caroline are ahead.

Jennifer and I head out on the second, and far hillier part of the BRR course.  With the exception of a few stretches, it is almost entirely uphill or downhill.  None of the climbs or descents are particularly long, but it does start to take its toll.

We settle into a routine.  Jennifer speeds down the descents, and I power walk and catch her on the ascents.  It makes both of us faster overall, as I try to follow her down, and she has to hustle as I overtake her walking the ascents.

Piratical crew at Wolf Run Shoals
(courtesy Anstr Davidson)

As usual, getting to the Wolf Run Shoals Aid Station (mile 26 and 40) is a special treat as it has a special and different theme each year.  This year it was pirates, and I give out a loud "Arr, matey!" to greet the saucy pirate wench checking runners in.

Jennifer and I continue our routine.  Despite having gone more than twice her longest training run by the time we get to the Fountainhead aid station (mile 28) outbound, she is feeling fine.  We keep moving along and are running sections at a pace that, should we be able to keep it up, will allow us to finish under 12 hours.

But I keep reminding both of us, especially me, that this is a run that get determines in the last 12 miles, after leaving the Fountainhead aid station on the way back.  I've got the experience and data to prove it.  My times to there in 2011 and 2012 were within 90 seconds of each other, but it took an hour longer to run the last 12 miles in 2012.

Spiderman at the Do Loop AS
(miles 32 and 35)

In the meantime we enjoy our run through the Do-Loop.  We head in to the loop sucking on frozen ice pops,  run past the pair of slowly decaying cars, spy the crew teams on the water by the Sandy Run Marina and stop to plant a kiss on Hello Kitty.  Since she doesn't have a mouth, she doesn't return the favor.

Every Year the Do Loop Cars Look Worse

Finishing the loop we refuel at the aid station and head back toward Fountainhead.

A Hello Kiss for Hello Kitty in the Do Loop

The Real Race Starts Now
We reach Fountainhead AS (mile 38) in 8:45.  That puts us within striking distance of a 12 hour finish.  There are 12.5 miles to go and we have 195 minutes to do it.  That is a pace of only 15:36 minutes per mile, barely above a moderate walking pace.

On the other hand, we have been going for 38 miles, the hilliest part of the course has to be re-navigated and the day is starting to warm up.

We are definitely slowing down, but we get to the pirates' lair at Wolf Run Shoals in an elapsed time of 9:21.  That means a pace of 15:09 for the last 10.5 miles and we break 12 hours. (In case you are wondering about the arithmetic BRR is 50.4 miles, not 50 miles.  It's like getting almost an extra half mile for free!)

The next five miles to the Marina aid station are tough going.  This part of the course has the steepest hills, one after another, and although we did them outbound, its hotter now and fatigue is setting in.  In addition, I've lost track of how many Succeed! salt tablets I've taken and when the last one was, and I've also started to lose track of my timing for taking gels.  And the miles are starting to take their toll on Jennifer.  We have abandoned our team work of running downhills and walking uphills and are mostly walking.

My tweet as we leave the Marina aid station (mile 44.9) sums up our condition, "Out of Marina at mile 45. Jennifer nauseous. My left knee hurts. But finish awaits in 5.5 miles.  Worst section over."  But I also recognize that our chance for a sub-12 hour finish is pretty much gone.

It's true that the final section is not as bad, but it does involve some careful climbing over rocks that we had little trouble with when we had gone over them just a couple of miles into the race.  Now it is a matter of careful placement of tired feet and legs and using hands to steady oneself. The last long hill away from Bull Run and up to Hemlock Overlook is brutal.  I have to stop a couple of times to gather my strength to go on.

The tables are now turned.  I tell Jennifer that she can go ahead, but she sticks with me and after my insistence that she step across the finish line first, we finish in 12:09.

Who's the Slowest?
Jennifer and I have canceled each other out in the team competition.  But what about the others?  Caroline (11:56) and Larry (11:52) finished under 12 hours.  Since every member of each team must finish under the 13-hour cutoff for the team to qualify, it may come down to who can make the cutoff.  At 12:28, the three remaining members of Team Rocket appear and finish together.  It turns out that Mike E had waited for his teammates just around the corner from the finish in an effort to improve their chances. Jim comes in three minutes later in 12:31.

Oddly, the race director tells us that Absolute Zeroes are going to repeat as slowest team, but may win the oldest team award instead.  That depends on whether 69-year old and 18-time BRR finisher Bill Wandel can make it to the finish line before the clock hits 13 hours. Finally, with just 12 minutes to spare, Bill appears and crosses the finish line for the 19-time to applause from the crowd. That team averaged 66.5 years old (an aggregate 40 years older than the Absolute Zeroes) with a combined 76 BRR finishes amongst them.

Team Absolute Zeroes is announced as the slowest team, and we chant "three-peat" as we collect our blue  blankets.

The next day the race director announces that the scoring was fouled up and that Team Rocket was actually the slowest team.  He tells us to keep our blankets and that the VHTRC will order more blankets for Team Rocket..  We do.

Swag: Two shirts, cup, bib, bottle opener, face towel, handkerchief, 5-year finisher visor
and (undeserved) team champion blanket

Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K - March 2, 2013

The Course Turned Around

The 2013 version of the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail race was run in the opposite direction of the previous nine years editions, from Riley's Lock at the Potomac River to the Damascus Regional Park.  This is a mixed blessing.  On the plus side, it means that the one water crossing of the creek will come only three or four miles from the end, rather than three to four miles from the start.  On the down side, the race will be net uphill, although the net rise is only a few hundred feet.

After parking at the start I take the bus to the start.  Since all runners are pre-registered via an email all that's necessary is to hand in my registration form and a check for $15 to get my bib and chip.  Chip timing is a new innovation for the 350 runner race but it provides the race organizers a simple way to know who started and who finished.  Sweepers also keep track of stragglers.

The weather is a bit chilly - temperatures never get above the mid-30's - but there's no rain and the absence of snow or any significant amount of precipitation the previous week means the course is in fine shape, with no ice, snow and very little mud.

Happy Running Approaching Route 28

The race starts on time and I run at the rear of the pack with Mark Z. and Don L., who is attempting his first 50K.  Don has been having soreness in his hip and doesn't know how far he will get but he's starting out easy  as he doesn't know what to expect or what his pace should be.  We run easily up the gravel Tschiffley Mill Road, cross River Road onto Seneca Road before getting onto the trail after a mile.  I find the pace a bit to slow and leave Mark and Don.

The 5.7 miles from there to the Aid station at Route 28 pass pleasantly.  The footing is firm on parts of the course that were thick mud last year and the company is pleasant as I chat with runners I know.

Just past the aid station I come upon Stephanie F.  We exchange greetings and I move past her, looking for an opportunity to duck behind a tree for a moment of privacy.  I get what I calculate to be far enough away but I'm either a bit slower than I planned or she is faster than I calculated and I have to maneuver a bit to retain privacy.

Why Runners Have More Fun - Than Racers

Mission accomplished, I fall in with Monika B. as we head for Black Rock Mill.  She points out to me that this portion of the trial has been rerouted and was built by mountain bikers who were barred from the older section of the trail.  The bikers agreed to help build the trail if they could use it.

Jim D. Moving Along

We pass the mill, cross the road and follow the newer bike trail uphill rather than the blue-blazed Seneca Creek Greenway Trail that stays closer to the creek.  In a bit we catch up with Jim D., a teammate of mine on the MCRRC Absolute Zeroes, the two-time defending Bull Run Run 50 Miler holder of the slowest team title.  We are going back again this year and SCGT is a de facto training run for us.  He's doing the marathon distance today.

Up and Over

 Monika and I discuss various trail runs we have done.  She is beginning to embrace the idea of running for the enjoyment of the journey rather than the enjoyment that comes with winning races.  And she knows winning, having won the 2006 SCGT marathon distance and the 2006 Capon Valley 50K.  I tell her how much I like Capon, having run it five times.  She replies how much she disliked it, having raced it the three times she was there (with 6th and 8th place finishes to go with her victory).  Today she is out enjoying herself.

The Bone of Contention

Somewhere after crossing Route 118 I spy a bone near a tree.  I know a perfect prop when I see one and I promptly pick it up.  It appears to be a tibia (the larger of the two bones of the lower leg) and it is devoid of any soft tissue and appears to be free of any signs of having been gnawed on by scavengers.

As I pass some runners I exclaim "Caveman style running," waving my find.  There is a steel barrel alongside the trail and I merrily bang on it.  

Nothing Like a Snack on the Trail

As I approach the road crossing at Riffle Ford Road I stash it in the back of my shorts.  I approach the volunteer course marshal and tell her that my leg is bothering my and I may need medical attention.  A look of concern comes over her face.  Then, reaching behind my back and pulling the bone out I say, "but it fells better ever since I took this out."  Her worried look dissolves into a chuckle.

Getting to the Riffle Ford Road Aid Station I look over the cookies, candy and other things to eat, wave the bone and tell them that the food was better at the previous aid station.

Following Monika B.

 The bone provides hours of fun - at least for me - the rest of the day.  I try to get Monika to run ahead to the aid station at Clopper Lake and tell them a runner with an injured leg is coming.  But it turns out that the aid station has something worthy of my bone - bacon.  Admittedly it isn't warm, but it is the pre-cooked variety and to a bacon lover like me, it takes good.

Monika and I arrive at Clopper Lake at 11:20 a.m., ten minutes before the official cutoff to take the roughly three mile loop around the lake for the 50K distance. (A note here: according to those who use GPS devices the SCGT marathon is really 29.7 miles (not 26.2) and the 50K is 32.7 miles (not 31.1)). In fact, the cutoff is largely ignored as long as runners are making progress. Race founder and former race director Ed S. is handing out treats from the trunk of his car and I exchange some empty gel packets for a pretzel or two.

CSX Railroad Bridge over Seneca Creek Southwest of I-270  

After finishing the loop and returning to the aid station Monika starts to pull away from me.  I pause to take a picture of the magnificent stone arch bridge carrying CSX tracks over the creek and then get to see a westbound freight train cross it as I approach.

The Bone Collector

A little bit after crossing under the bridge I spy an animal skull on the ground.  I can't resist another souvenir so I pick it it.  Now I have a skull in one hand and a tibia in the other.  I have no idea what kind of skull it is.  It appears too small to be a deer skull but is clearly some sort of mammal skull.  The teeth and lower jaw are missing so there are no clues there.  Finally I decide that it is not up to my collecting standards and leave it balance on a post for others to admire.

The Bone Swings into Action at Route 355

 There is a photographer at the aid station at Route 355, around 22 miles into the race, and that provides an excellent opportunity to clown around with the bone as these pictures indicate.

The Bone Points the Way At Route 355

 Remarkably I catch up to Monika just beyond the aid station.  We go on a bit more together but this section of the course is hilly and she runs the uphills while I walk them.

Approaching Watkins Mill Road, about mile 25, I overtake a young man walking with a little bit of a limp.  He's a Naval Academy midshipman and tells me his knee is hurting.  I ask several questions and - non-medical professional that I am - diagnose his problem as an iliotibial band problem.  He is talking about walking to the finish but I tell him that he should drop out at the next aid station, or better yet, at Watkins Mill Road where there are course marshals.  I've had the problem and tell him that it isn't going to get any better today.

Go Navy!

A little bit further along I catch up with Larry B. another member of the Absolute Zeroes.  Larry is doing the 50K, getting ready for Bull Run.  He finishes five minutes after me.

Past the aid station at Brink Road I catch up with Zach W.  He's a plebe midshipman and this is his first attempt at a marathon or longer.  He tells me that he is doing it because he hopes to join the Seals or another part of the special forces branch of the Navy upon graduation and thinks that this kind of run will help his mental training.  I describe the remaining portion of the course to him and tell him that he doesn't have to stay with me as we walk up a hill.  He replies that his strategy during the day has been to stay with experienced runners and learn from them.

 Along Magruder Branch Trail approaching the final aid station at Log House Road (?) I spot a tempting treasure on the ground - a deer hoof with fur about the ankle and about six inches of bone protruding.  It clearly had been carried there by some scavenger.  But I reluctantly decline to pick it up, even by my lax standards of hygiene there is a bit too much risk of unpleasant surprises even with temperatures barely above freezing.

After the aid station I urge Zach onward telling him how most of the rest of the course is uphill and he can run it while I plan to walk the rest of the way.  He accepts the advice on the experienced runner turned walker and goes on and soon disappears from my view.  He finishes the last 1.5 or 2 miles more than three minutes faster than me.

Results 
I finish in 7:27:50 (4/6 AG, 135/180 overall) more than a half hour faster than last year's mudfest.  Mark and Don caught up with Stephanie and as she was not proceeding well they urged Don to go ahead.  He did and finished his first 50K in 8:16.  Mark and Stephanie finish in 8:57, but are only next to DFL, as someone else finished three minutes later.

Bib and Bone - SCGT is a pick up your own swag race.

George Washington Birthday Marathon - February 17, 2013

A Cold Day for a Run

Jim and me Keeping Warm Pre-race
Wearing Bull Run Run 50 Mile Gear
(Photo by Mark Z.)

Two nice things about the George Washington Birthday Marathon put on by the DC Road Runners Club are that it has an early start option and the early start is at a very civilized 9:30 a.m.  That allows me to pick up Mark Z at 8:15, get to the Greenbelt Youth Center by 8:30, park three spots from the door and register for the race without getting up any earlier than my usual 7:00 a.m. alarm.

The day promises cold and wind, so I wear a short-sleeve shirt under two long sleeve ones, don tights and shorts, a buff to keep both my head and neck warm and hat and gloves.  I bring along Little Hotties foot warmers to stick in my shoes before we head out to the finish.  They promise to work for "up to 5 hours" and the marathon will be a chance to test out that claim.

At the early start
Ken (center), Jim (behind in red) , Caroline (far right)
(Photo by JeanneLouWho)

There is Always Someone Crazier than the Last Most Crazy Runner You Met

Jim, Caroline W and I start out together at the early start. As we head down the long long about a mile and a half into the race (which you have to run up after 25 miles) Caroline comments that she hears someone with a very hard foot strike.  As she says it, Stephanie C. passes us and the source of the sound is immediately apparent.  Stephanie is running with an orthopedic boot on her left foot.

She tells us that she had a stress fracture last year and that it had healed, but she thinks that she has re-fractured it.  Since she had run a half marathon with the boot last year, she thought that running a marathon in it would be doable.  And then she goes merrily clomping down the road past us.

I catch up with her a little while later and run with her for awhile.  She explains that she had come down this morning with a friend from Philadelphia and didn't want to disappoint her by not running.  She adds that she ran a five mile race the day prior to the marathon - in running shoes, not the boot - and had to hide from the race director, who is also her orthopedist.  Stephanie further explains that after her foot healed last year she ran half marathons nearly every weekend in the Fall, and then ran the Goofy Challenge at Disney this year - the half marathon followed by the marathon the following day.  And now the stress fracture had seemed to returned.  She expresses regrets about running in the boot and thinks that wearing shoes would have been better.  She is alternating running and walking and I finally  leave her.

After the marathon I spot her sitting on a bench in the Youth Center.  She did two loops of the three loop course, completing 17 miles before calling it a day.  But the reason she stopped, she tells me, is not because of the boot but because of the cold.  She also points out that the straps on the boot had started to come apart.  I joke that she will have a difficult time explaining that she needs a new one because this one was failing because she was running in it.

A Tale of Two Courses

Mile 20, Lap 3, along Beaver Dam Road
(Photo by JeanneLouWho)

The course consists of  three 7.5 mile loops with a couple of miles of out and back at the beginning and the end.  The loop is more of a triangle, with a 3.5 mile side along Beaver Dam Road on the grounds of the USDA Agricultural Research facility, then roughly two miles each along Springfield Road and Powder Mill Road.  The stretch along Beaver Dam Road is nearly free of wind, and I remove hat, then gloves and finally a shirt.  The wind is out of the north-northwest, but due to the geography of the course, whether due to trees or being on the low side of a gentle ridge this stretch of the course is very pleasant weatherwise.

But no sooner do I leave the aid station at the end on Beaver Dam Road and make the acute left turn onto Springfield than the wind is blowing and gusting in my face.  I quickly re-don my shirt, pull the buff around my head, and put hat and gloves back on.  Gusts of wind make me turn my face away so that it is not directly in the wind.  I repeat the process each time I approach the turn onto Springfield.  For some reason the wind reminds me of a line from the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, "could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?"

Mile 13, Lap 2, approaching the turn to windward (Photo by JeanneLouWho)

A couple of snowflakes spit from the sky from time to time, but nothing to threaten visibility or even dampen the ground.  None of the brief moments of flakes last more than a couple of minutes.

The Little Hotties in my shoes work to perfection and my toes, which can often suffer greatly from the cold, stay warm the entire day.  The only mishap occurs when I go to remove them from my shoes in the Youth Center.  One of the packages had torn open and my toes are partially covered in black powder.  No great harm - the powder is non-toxic and is purported to be a combination of iron compounds and a catalyst to speed along oxidation, releasing heat in the process.

The Best Sponsor for an Aid Station

Best Marathon Aid Station Candy 

The National Confectioners Association (Motto: Making Life Sweeter since 1884) sponsors some of the aid stations.  Not only does this assure a supply of M&Ms, jelly beans and some of the other candies that often appear at aid stations, but at the very first aid station I snare a dark chocolate covered Peep.  I'm so stunned by finding such an unexpected treat that instead of gobbling it right down I stick it in a pocket.  Several times as the day wears on I extract it but I can't bring myself to eat it and return it to the pocket.  Toward the end of the I tell a fellow runner of my fortune.  Asked why I don't eat it, I say that it is a bit like a fire extinguisher or AED, and it is to be used only in case of emergency.  The emergency never comes and the Peep makes it home safely with me.

But it is only a temporary reprieve.  After being lovingly photographed it is devoured the next day.

Shirt, Medal and Bib

Results

The new, 2013-dated medal

My fourth George Washington Birthday Marathon is a pleasant and familiar run.  I treat it like a run, not a race, as it is the first long run of the year and is a way to get a nice long run in to prepare for the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K in March.  I finish in a comfortable 4:46:38, which turns out to be a 3-second PR for the race, while also being only 6:02 under my slowest GWB Marathon.  It is a run that I'm very consistent at: 4:46, 4:52, 4:50 and now another 4:46.  I'm 133 of 198 finishers, 107/146 males and 12/17 in my age group.

A nice upgrade this year is a two-color medal specifically for the 2013 race.  In previous years the finisher's medal was always a generic metallic GW Birthday Marathon medal usually, but not always, with a year sticker on the plain back.

Rosaryville Veterans Day 50K - November 10, 2012

Earned, not given.

Winner!
"And the winner in the men's 60 and older age group is Ken . . .,"  Race Director Tom D. peers at a slip of paper in his hand. He starts again, "The men's 60 and over age group winner is Ken  . . ." and pauses again.  I stand up and start walking toward him. "Swab," I say, "Ken Swab."

Two Goals
This is the third year I've run the three-year old race.  The first year was the first and only time I had run under six hours for a 50K: finishing in an official time of 5:59:58.95 or barely a second under six hours.

Last year I ran without a watch and was disappointed to run 6:07 when I hoped to better my 2010 result.  I was even more disappointed to see that the winner in the 60 and up age group ran 5:59, a time I had hoped to better.

Following my Marine Corps Marathon PR of 4:23 two weeks before Rosaryville I felt that I could go under six hours and that I had a shot at the age group award.

Leading up to the race I told people that I would be racing, not running it.  What I didn't them them was that I had to develop a plan for it.

Rebecca contemplates
how many drop bags to use

The course consists of a road section of about six tenths of a mile leading to a 10-mile loop of mostly flat to gently rolling dirt track without much in the way of rocks or roots.  Repeat the loop three times with aid stations at approximately the entry to the loop and about midway through, then retrace the road section back to the start-finish line.  The simple plan, I figure, is to run each loop in two hours, including the outbound and inbound stems in the first and third loop.

On the Way
Rebecca R. shows up at my house about 645 on Saturday morning for our 45 minute carpool to the race.  The weather promises a beautiful fall day, with cool temperatures early climbing into the high 50s as the day goes on.  Rebecca gets out of her car and begins to transfer her bags to my car - three in one hand and three in the other.  She stows them in the car and then goes back and gets the final item she is bringing along - a 2.2 pound panettone, the Italian holiday cake.   I have two bags - one with post-race clothes and the second with gels and an extra shirt.  But the second is along mostly as a drop bag than a carrier of supplies.

On the way we chat amiably and I remind Rebecca that today is a racing, not running day for me. And then I realize that my unconscious has formulated a plan that it is now announcing.

Jeanne prepares for
 the National Anthem

One Plan
A couple of days earlier I had been leafing through a running magazine and came across a column providing advice to a first-time 100-miler who wanted to run a competitive race.  The column provided some suggestions from ultrarunner great Karl Meltzer who advised the neophyte to not to try to run negative splits so that he would have something in reserve for the second 50 miles.  This sound advice had resonated with me and I told Rebecca that my plan was to run the first loop in 1:55, the second in 2:00 and the third in 2:05.  If I could hit those marks, I'd finish under six hours.

Loop One
For the third year in a row, Jeanne Lou Who sings the National Anthem and the race starts promptly at 8:00 a.m. (Jeanne then jumps in her car, drives to Chesapeake Beach where she sings the National Anthem at the start of the Pets for Vets 5K and runs the race before returning to Rosaryville to hang out at an aid station and the finish line.)

Ken and Rebecca on the first loop
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

Immediately I have a problem.  In my meticulous planning for my racing I forgot to properly tie my shoe laces.  Rebecca and I run the approximately .6 mile to the location of the first aid station where the course enters the trail with my laces flapping around.  We move to the side while I retie them and then get on the trail.  Since it is mostly single track we have to wait for appropriate locations to ask runners who passed us while I was stopped tying my shoes to move right so we can pass them.  This takes time and energy and is not an auspicious way to start an effort for a PR.

It's a beautiful day, though, and we are enjoying the park, the weather and the company.  As is usual, we chat with other runners who we overtake or who overtake us.  We share experiences with a runner wearing a Bighorn Trail shirt, which we had done in 2011.  He ran the tough 100 mile event there, as well as two other 100 milers that year.  After a brief chat, he says, "Gotta go now," and takes off.


About four miles in my left foot catches a rock or a branch and I pitch over to the right. I manage to tuck my shoulder in, hit the ground, roll to the right, pop up, and while continuing to run point ahead and shout, "Forward!"  Rebecca asks me if I'm alright.  I tell her I am, but check my pockets and tell her that I think I lost a couple of gels.

"These gels?" she asks, handing the missing gels to me.

At the mid-loop aid station a volunteer tops up my bottle, I grab potato chips and chocolate chip cookies and keep moving.  I walk while I eat, for today is not a day for schmoozing at aid stations.

Follow the arrows on the pie plates
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

Rebecca is right behind me.  We pick up another runner and the three of us continue to run on.

Suddenly I hear a thud behind me.  I turn around and Rebecca is picking herself up from the ground.  She has leaves stuck in her hair, making her look a bit like a woodland princess.  But she has dirt on her forehead and her nose is a bit bruised.  She has face planted directly into the trail.  She gets up, pronounces her nose "not broken," and brushes the leaves from her hair.  The other runner offers her a handkerchief and Rebecca brushes off her face.  She takes inventory of the rest of herself, including a bit of a scrape on her knee and pronounces herself good to continue.

The rest of the loop proceeds uneventfully for us but we do pass one runner who is using a branch for a crutch while a volunteer radios for assistance.

As we reach the aid station at the start of the loop I look at my watch. 1:53. Right on schedule

Loop Two

Looking happy in the second loop
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

We both go to our drip bags. I shed my hat and buff and change my long sleeve shirt for a short sleeved one.  Rebecca is headed to the porta-potty to change out of her tights.

"Gotta go," I say and she waves me on.

Not more than a couple of miles into the loop a voice behind says "on your left" and I jump to the right to let the leader go past.  A short blur with a pony tail, tattoos on both shoulders, a running singlet and she's gone in a flash.  I've gone maybe 13 miles and the leader is on the last lap, about ten mile ahead of me.

In just about the same place where I fell during the first lap, I repeat the performance: left foot trips, tuck and roll to the right, bounce up.  I'm alone this time so I take a bit of time checking for any damage.  I landed a bit more heavily on my right shoulder this time and I've opened a second cut on my right knee but there isn't any serious damage and I'm off running without hesitation.

Reaching the mid-loop aid station I take a split on my watch. Fifty three minutes.  It will give me a baseline to compare on the third lap, I figure. As before I get a refill, grab chips and cookies and get going.

By this point in the race the 133 runners (120 will finish) are pretty much spread out over the course and with the exception of occasionally passing a runner or two or being passed I'm pretty much running alone.  But since I'm more interested in time than touring - and this my third time on the course - I'm not put out.

Watch out for bikers
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

Finally the next race leader flies past me. "You're second overall," I yell in encouragement, "and first male."  A short while later another guy passes me and I give him a report on his position as second male and third overall.  Only when I finish do I find out that the winner, who I had somehow taken for a woman, is a male.

I come out of the woods for the second time of the day, cross the road and get to the aid station.  I've done the second loop in 1:53, seven minutes ahead of my goal.  I'm through two loops in 3:47, eight minutes ahead of my target.

Loop Three
After refilling my bottle and getting the potato chips and chocolate chip cookies I dive into my drop bag for a dry shirt.  In no time I'm back on the course.  Not 30 seconds out of the aid station I realize that I forgot to pick up the additional gels that I had put there for the third lap.

I hesitate a step and calculate whether it is worth the additional time to go back for them.  Adequate hydration, nutrition and electrolyte replenishment is an integral part of my race plan.  Hydration is not a problem as the temperatures are in the 50s and although the day is sunny, most of the course is in the woods providing shade.  And with an aid station every five miles my bottle never gets more than 3/4 empty.  I have Succeed! salt tablets with me and took the first one two hours into the race, and plan on additional ones every hour thereafter.  My plan for the gels is to take one every 45 minutes, and I've been doing that, but now I don't have any because I forgot to pick them up from the drop bag.  And I'm a few minutes overdue for one at 3:45.  A quick calculation shows that I'm scheduled to take two more after that during this loop, when I'll need them the most.

But I decide that rather than lose time going back I'll press on and hope that I can prosper without them.

Within a mile I come up on a runner whose walking up one of the rolling inclines on the course.  He's eating a gel..

"Any chance you have an extra gel you can spare," I ask.  "I don't want one if you need them for later, but I'd be much obliged if you could spare one."

"Sure," he says, "I don't need them."  He hands me one.  "You want more than one," he asks, "I'm pretty much done running for day.  Mostly going to walk it in."

I'd like two more, I think.  I say, "Thanks for the one.  That's all I need. I don't want to leave you short."

I'm taking short walk breaks on the uphills but I feel pretty good.  I successfully get past the place where I've fallen on the first two loops and feel a sense of accomplishment for staying upright.

Soon I'm to the mid-loop aid station for the third time.  I check my watch.  Fifty seven minutes this loop compared to 53 on the second loop.  Given some time back, but it's in the plan, plus I'm a few minutes ahead of plan based on when I entered the loop.

Approaching the finish
wearing the third shirt of the day
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

Time to be mentally tough for the last five or six miles.  I push a bit.  I've noticed on the second loop that the trail has some mile markers of the back of some of the trail posts if you know where to look.  I start looking for them and computing my mile splits as a means of keeping up the pace.

I also notice a group of two or three runners a bit behind me.  One of them looks to be a man of a certain age - my age.  I start to feel like the antelope being pursued by the lions.  In my mind, the hunt is on, and I'm the prey.  It is not a good feeling, but I use it as an incentive to keep pushing.  I've gone too long to get run down in the final miles.

Finally I'm down the final slope in the woods and turn onto the road for the final .6 mile to the finish.

A check of the watch shows that the third loop took 1:59.  That means, according to the plan, that I need to finish this road section in six minutes to hit my 2:05 goal for the third part of the plan. On the other hand, it is uphill and it took six minutes to run it downhill and before running more than 30 miles.

Posing with the bling
(Photo by Jon Valentine)

A male runner catches up to me.  I eye him, but it's obvious that he isn't anywhere near my age group.  He goes on, I briefly catch up to him, but the finish is uphill following a downhill and I let him go.  A look behind shows no one near.

Crossing the finish line in 5:53:49 I'm pleasantly surprised to receive a finisher's medal, the fist time the race has given medals.

And shortly thereafter, I get the age-group award, finishing first  among five in the 60+ age group and beating the next closest male by almost 19 minutes - the same man who beat me in 2011.

It was about as perfectly planned and executed race as possible.  My first loop was 1:53 compared to my goal of 1:55 (actually 1 minute 46 seconds ahead); the second loop 1:53 compared to a goal of 2:00 (6 minutes 9 seconds ahead) and 2:06 for the third loop versus a goal of 2:05 (behind by 1 minute 21 seconds). Overall pace was 11:23 per mile.

Rebecca

Bemedaled Rebecca at the finish

Having collected my medal, got my mug, and posed for pictures I began to wonder what had happened to Rebecca.  Last year she and I ran together and finished within a minute or two of each other.  As the clock ticked on she was nowhere to be seen.

Had her fall had a delayed effect?  There were no sounds of ambulances or reports of runners being taken to emergency treatment so nothing serious seemed to have overtaken her.

Finally she came into view on the road and crossed the finish line in 6:48:28.  She explained that she mostly walked the third loop because of stomach distress brought on by mixing the Accelerade powder she carried with her with Gatorade rather than with water like she usually did and for what the powder was designed for.  She really had no explanation for her behavior other than a smile, a shoulder shrug and an "it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Swag: Hat, Medal, Bib and the Mug.

Marine Corps Marathon - October 28, 2012

Concern about the effect that Hurricane Sandy may have on the running of  the 37th Marine Corps Marathon leads to much discussion during the week leading up to the race.  Race morning is cloudy and the drive to the MCRRC Hospitality Suite in Rosslyn sees a few misty drops on the windshield.  Before we set out on the mile walk to the start line, Rebecca R. and I go outside and check the weather.  It isn't raining but we decide that it will be prudent to carry jackets in case the weather changes.

Back in the suite I load up my Race Ready shorts with gels.  As I go to tighten the drawstring on the shorts, it pulls out of them.  Someone suggests pinning the shorts to my shorts and I put pins on either side.  I tie the lightweight windbreaker around my waist.

A group eight of us walk toward the start but gradually we become separated into smaller and smaller groups until only Jim Y. and I are together.  Since we approached toward the start line we  must walk past it and then away from it so that can get far enough back to be in a group appropriate for our pace.  We stop once we reach the 4 hour pace pylon and plan to wait there a bit to let faster runners cross the start line ahead of us.

While we wait I spot an wrapped disposable plastic poncho by the side of the road.  Not one to pass up a bargain, I pick up the 2x3 inch packet and slip it into another pocket of my shorts.

Promptly at 7:55 a.m. the howitzer marking the beginning of the race booms and the race starts.  Jim and I wait until we see the 4 hour pacer pass us and we start walking toward the start line. In about three and a half minutes we cross the line and begin to run.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Immediately I sense a problem.  Now that I'm running the weight of the gels and the poncho are pulling down  my shorts in the rear.  The pins on the sides are doing their job but the rear is sagging ominously.  Untying the jacket, I transfer the contents of my shorts pockets into the jacket pockets.  This takes enough weight off the shorts that they stay about my waist.

Through the streets of Rosslyn I pass several runners wearing fatigues and full packs.  I joke to them that they really didn't need to carry their things with them as they could have used the bag drop service and had the packs delivered to the finish for them.

On the uphill section around mile two we run pass one of the handcrank wheelchair racers working his way uphill. He's working hard - imagine having to lift the weight of your body plus that of the racing wheelchair up the 100 foot climb between mile 2 and 3 using only your arms without stopping to rest.

At mile 3 the course heads downhill on Spout Run to the GW Parkway. The course is only two lanes wide there and as it is early in the race it is crowded.  The wheelchair racer has a chance to pick up speed and enjoy the fruits of his labor from the long uphill getting there and maybe catch a bit of a rest while putting gravity to work.  His guide runner is yelling "Wheel chair racer, move left," but people are slow to get out of his way, some because they are wearing headphones and are oblivious to their surroundings.  I scream at the top of my lungs, "Move left! NOW!" and it helps a bit, but further down the hill there are still people who couldn't give a damn about being able to hear their fellow man.

Game On!

We cross Key Bridge into Georgetown and head out Canal Road, familiar territory and one I often drive on.  At mile 6 I look at my watch and then at the 4:30 pace band I picked up at the Marathon Expo on Friday.  Up until this point I had no plan for the marathon other than to enjoy the day.  I'm wearing the pace band mainly so that I can gauge my progress and not necessarily as a goal.  Last year I ran MCM in a PR of 4:29 but I have not set consciously set out to beat that today. But I see that I'm about two minutes ahead of the 4:30 pace and decide that since this is the Marine Corps Marathon, what better way to honor them than to run as hard as I can as long as I can, and when I get tired, to be mentally tough and overcome it.

Looking good before mile 19
(Courtesy of Ken Trombatore)

 This strategy, developed on the spot without any reflection is precisely the opposite of what I did at last year's MCM in running a PR.  In 2011 my pacing was even throughout the day, running  a nearly even negative splits of  2:15 - 2:14 and having enough left at the end to run mile 26 as my second fastest mile split of the day.

But today, in other words, I'm committing myself to the notorious - and usually doomed - fly-and-die strategy.  I try to convince myself that today it isn't a fly-and-die approach; it's the Marine-tough approach. "Today's pain is tomorrow's strength," I assure myself, even though I need the strength today, not tomorrow.

I run up Reservoir Road at mile 7, and clip through the slightly downhill mile 8 along MacArthur Blvd in 9:36.  Passing the Georgetown Pep Band in front of the University I yell "Hoya!" and get a "Saxa!" in return.

Along M Street I fall in alongside a woman running with a large knee brace. She's from Charleston, SC and trains cadets at the Citadel to run marathons.  This year she was challenged to run MCM.  It's her first marathon and she admits that her knee is hurting.  She also says that she has to have it operated on, but that she had to accept the challenge and that she would not be deterred by the knee. "That's the kind of toughness that this marathon brings out," I think, fitting her into my narrative of the day.

Through the cheering crowds along M Street, past the Kennedy Center and down towards Hains Point I continue the strategy of running miles at a mid 9-minute pace, appreciably ahead of the 10:18 pace of a 4:30 marathon.

A mile 12 there is a row of evenly spaced blue signs alongside the course.  Each sign has a photograph of a service member with brief biographical information.  The last line is always the same "KIA" with a place and a date.  When the signs end there is a row of 15-20 persons holding American flags.

Around the end of the point and the course turns northward.  The wind kicks up from the east. For a few moments rain seems likely to follow, but none falls.

Through the mid-teen miles my pace drops a bit into the upper 9-minute per mile range but I still feel good.  These are the dull miles of the marathon, after the exhilaration and freshness of the first quarter have worn off and before mile 20 when the end becomes achievable.  Run them, book them, and forget them.

Around mile 18, near the National Gallery of Art I move to the right-hand side of the course and begin looking for daughter Hilary who has said she would meet me there with treats. She spots me first. I take some Snickers from the offerings and she's off to the south side of the Mall to see me there as I head toward the Capitol to circle around the Reflecting Pool and the Grant Monument at the foot of Capitol Hill.

Before I get there I spot one of the legendary characters of the MCM, 70-year old Ray De Frees, better known as the Flag Man.  Ray is running his 20th MCM and he as carried the United States flag in each of them since 2001.  He encourages others to join him in sharing the carrying of the colors, and I ask him if I may.  He hands it to me and we run for some yards, before he says, "I can't run too far with you."  I thank him and return it to him.  This year he is featured in the MCM Program.

I realize that I may be getting a bit tired and I make a conscious effort to improve my form by picking up my knees.  It seems to work.  Just passed mile 19 I spot Hilary and she gives me words of encouragement as well as an offer of more Snickers, which I politely decline.

Mile 20 comes on the approach to the 14th Street Bridge as the course heads back to Virginia.  A glance at the watch and then the wrist band and I'm now about 10 minutes ahead of a 4:30 pace.  Thoughts of a 4:20 finish enter my mind.

Mile 20 is where a marathon starts.  The first 20 miles are nothing more than the preliminaries to get to Mile 20.  They are to strip the runner down to his core, to get rid of any stored glycogen, to introduce one to the place where body and will struggle for the upper hand.  There are 6.2 miles left, 10 kilometers. Not much by usual standards.  But it is where friend Jennifer S. described as a place where even thoughts of her only child could not make her happy or ease the pain.  Some runners talk about "hitting the wall" during this 10K.  That suggests a brief, sudden impact.  It isn't that at all.  It is more akin to falling into a well.  It isn't brief.  It doesn't let up.  It gets worse every step of the way.  And once there there is no way out other than to get to the finish.  The strong use that knowledge to press hard to get it over with more quickly.  The weak are left on the course longer to suffer more.  It comes down to how much pain can one endure now so one does not have to suffer any longer than necessary.  And sometimes the body doesn't care what the mind thinks.

MCM Mascot at finish
(Courtesy of Ken Trombatore)

Crossing the bridge brings mile 21 just a the Virginia shore.  It was a good crossing on a part of the course largely devoid of spectators and scenery - just a four-lane concrete roadway stretching ahead.  I'm back back to a mid-9 minute mile. The first mile of the last 6.2 finished and still on course for a shot at breaking 4:20.  "Stay strong.  Be tough," I remind myself.

It takes almost another mile of running on I-395 to pass the water stop entering Crystal City.  The four lanes of the highway yield to the one lane of the exit ramp and it becomes crowded.  Perhaps that contributes to taking more than 10 minutes to run mile 22.  Or perhaps it is the tightening feeling developing in my calves.

But the Hash House Harriers have their traditional aid station ahead and I grab a cup of beer and some pretzels.  To drink the beer I walk for the first time all day.  But the pretzels are dry in my mouth and after a few bites I spit them out and return to running.  The tightening calves slow the pace, but no worse than the previous mile.  At mile 23 I am still on pace for a chance to finish under 4:20.

Down through the streets of Crystal City I go.  There are big crowds here and they yell encouragement, clap, wave signs and make noise trying, it seems, to transfer their energy to the runners for the final 5K.

Rounding the corner to head back toward the Pentagon the 4:15 pacer carrying her balloons on a stick and accompanied by a pack of runners passes me.  It's a bit deceiving as they started behind me, so they are probably five or more minutes ahead of me based on their chip time.

I spot a woman wearing a MCRRC First Time Marathoner shirt and ask her how she is doing.  She's fine she replies and wonders about her pace.  I don't know when she crossed the starting line but assure her that she is well on pace to finish in 4:30.

Hell Begins Here
The truth for me is that things are not going well.  Both my calves are not only tightening up but feeling like they are on the verge of cramping.  I'm trying to stay tough and not let my body win.  While I've stocked and taken gels regularly I regret that I've forgotten to bring salt tablets.

I pass up the donut holes offered at the next aid station but drink down a couple of cups of water.  It's becoming harder and harder to keep up the pace and my calves refuse to stretch out my stride.  Passing under I-395 approaching the Pentagon I take a banana section offered at an unofficial aid station figuring the potassium may help.

I pass the marker for mile 24.  My pace has appreciably slowed - it is the slowest mile of the day.  So far. Then my right hamstring sends messages that it is on the verge of cramping.  I have visions of both calves and the hamstring all seizing up at once and dropping me to the ground.  I try to run but its any effort beyond a shuffle sends the muscles to the very edge of deep spasms.

The next two miles are sheer unrelieved agony. Any attempt to run up an incline, such as the highway ramp just beyond mile 25 threatens to lock up my calves.  Mile 25 is now the slowest mile of the day, and the first to take more than 11 minutes to complete.

As I walk, shuffle, try to run - do anything to keep moving forward that last mile one thought takes precedence over all others.  Get to the finish, and then I can fall to the ground.  Cross the finish line and I won't have to run another step.  Get to the end.  Be done. The quicker the better.

Mock turtleneck shirt, medal, bib and
USAA challenge medal

There are crowds the last half mile or so.  The path the last quarter mile or so is packed with spectators.  It is lined with them but I ignore them.  I don't look at them.  I don't acknowledge them.  I'm not sure I even hear them. They might as well not be there.  All I see is the road ahead.  Then the arch over the finish line.  Then the finish line itself.  Then I'm over it.

I don't collapse.  But I do go over to the railing on the side of the finish chute and lean on it.  I stay there for awhile.  One of the Marines lining the chute asks if I'm alright.  "I'm OK," I reply, "I'm fine."

I finish in 4:23:24, a personal record by more than six minutes.  I finish 82 of 395 in my age group, just out of the top 20 percent and 5729 of 13525 males.

A couple of days after the race I looked at pictures of me crossing the finish line.  My eyes are half closed.  My mouth is an open circle.  My shoulders hunch forward.  Both knees are bent.  It is not a picture that imparts the viewer with the joy of running.  But it is an honest picture, for at that moment, with left foot on the finish line and right foot above it I did what, 20 miles earlier I had determined to do. I ran as long as I could as hard as I could.  Then, when the day turned hard and the last few miles turned awful, both physically and in terms of performance, I persevered.   The reward was a horrible finish line photo in return for a PR.  And that is an exchange that most runners would make.