Lonely on Hains Point

Two days before the Cherry Blossom race, I took a last look at Hains Point, running 10 miles from my office in the afternoon. Saturday morning I ran an easy Park++.
Then came the race.

Never before has a PR felt so miserable. It certainly didn't feel like my best 10 mile. Every other PR I set, I do so with ease, but this one was a struggle.
I woke up at 3:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. The ride to the race was uneventful and easy. I felt fit and ready to go during the warmup, and figured out Evan, Wertz and Luke all wanted to run 5:20s. That seemed pretty ideal to me.

The first mile was a mess. Dudes with gray hair, idiots in costumes who started fast and were fading halfway down Independence Avenue. Evan and I cruised along, but I had a feeling the pace had to be too easy to be right. A shame, because I could have seen myself keeping that with no problem for 10 miles. I hoped there was a chance I was on pace and was in better shape than I thought, but as we made the turn to the Lincoln Memorial, the clock was passing 5:15 and we split 5:31.When we reached that point, Evan was ready to go, and I knew that staying behind would be a good way to lose my pacing help. We surged, launching around a pack getting onto the bridge and tracked down Dickson, moving closer on the cemetery circle and catching up on the way back to DC, splitting 5:14 for the second mile in the process.

We cruised up Rock Creek Parkway to the Kennedy Center and one of the unnecessary 180 turns that plague the course. We came through in 15:12 and hit the 5k in 16:30. I was hitting my goal splits of 5:20s, but we were obviously going a little faster, and I decided that running 5:15s with a group of people, which now included Wertz, Rich Saunders and Luke, would be a better move than trying to stick to 5:20s on my own.

We scooted down Ohio Drive and hit another 5:15. I tried to watch the race develop in the front with the Pacers. I couldn't account for everyone, but my attention was focused mainly on the pack we had going. Dickson had dropped us in the fourth mile, but I was now leading the group and still feeling pretty relaxed.

When we turned onto Independence, I pushed it a little bit and think I shook the pack up.I felt the slight uphill, but kept pushing, feeling like as soon as I stopped pushing, I'd start falling back. We hit the fifth mile in 5:27, but made it halfway in 26:40- dead solid perfect. I made up for the first mile's malaise and was in position to just pass the next five miles with this tremendous pack. Then the doubt crept in.

We actually started heading downhill a bit as we headed over to Hains Point. I remember my right arm suddenly flailing and nearly whacking one of the fences between us and Tom Jefferson. I fell a step behind. I heard Evan bid me continue, but I wasn't home to answer. I trailed by a few steps as we started toward the point, and even though I was close enough to lunge at one of the guys in the pack and tackle him, I was running a different race. My next mile was solid- 5:22, but the rest of the pack was 5:20, and the gap only grew from there. 10k in 33:10, mile seven in 5:34. I hit that awful turnaround at the edge of the peninsula that seems so excessive, when the old Marine Corps Marathon course turned through the parking lot prior. I don't really hate Hains Point, just the tip. I saw a runner pull over to the side shortly after. I tried to yell to him to finish, to help me, but I was wheezing and gasping and wouldn't have made much noise. I was going to be on my own. Mile eight in 5:35. I caught a few fading advance start women, and tried to reel in a guy who had fallen off the pack badly, but it wasn't happening. Mile nine in 5:35. At least I'm consistent when I'm dying. A crowd of GRCers waited near the turn toward 15th street, as encouraging as ever. Then, they started encouraging Matias. Oh man, I had no idea he was anywhere close to me. If there was any motivation left for my race, it was to avoid being outkicked, but this was going to be an effort. He was charging like hell, the bull that he is. The cheers got closer in comparison for him and me, like radar speeding up when the target gets closer. He charged up the hill near the Holocaust Museum and I climbed it like I was afraid of offending the ground by stepping on it too hard. He caught me and said it was time to go. I tried to pick my legs up but they wouldn't go. He told me again. I rejected his offer, with an  unspeakable oath for emphasis. He pulled away and we crested the hill and somehow I had a charge left to kick it in down the hill. That incline is a ball buster, but the slope is a hell of a gift. I somehow summoned the strength to finish in 5:31 for a 54:19 total, five seconds faster than 2010. As the public address system broadcast that I was from Falls Church, it only put an exclamation point on my fury and disappointment.

Yeah, I was having a rough time (pictured above)

I saw Nora standing near the chute waiting for Geoff and I unleashed my disappointment when she asked how I did. The whole thing had shades of Philly for me--I was ready to blow my old time out of the water and watched it fade away in the last miles. Sure, I PRed by five seconds, but that previous best was from two years ago, when I was just getting used to this training regimen. I am immeasurably stronger, but evidently in this sport, when you have a definite measure, it was only worth a five second improvement. Is that all I could improve in two years? I wound up 35th, it was a weak year. Two years ago I was 49th with practically the same time. How can I spend so much effort on something silly like running and not have more to show for it? Well, first of all, photos from Dustin Whitlow, Michelle Miller, Cheryl Young and Jimmy Daly, respectively.

With more time, I felt better. I realized that was the end of the fourth week since I started running again, a little more than two weeks after I came out from under the pall of my allergy problems. The first week back I was just trying to readjust to the impact and how it beat up my legs, the second I was constantly on the edge of feeling human. I had a solid 91 mile week two weeks ago, but in that whole month, I had one solid hard workout and one solid long run. Most importantly, my 27:39 second half was still faster than the 27:47 for which I got credit at Van Metre (when in reality I ran 28:17). So, I was able to run much faster for 10 miles than I was for 5 miles three weeks before.

Several people remarked that I looked solid whenthey saw me (they obviously saw me in the first half). I ran an easy five that afternoon to get the crud out of my legs.

Monday night I worked late and got home after dark, setting the stage for a Slade Run. I averaged 6:30s and did so with no regard for how fast I was running in the middle. I love that loop in the dark.

Tuesday night was the same situation, and I went out to the New Virginia Manor Loop, where I unwittingly ran 5:20s for the two four-mile loops sandwiched in the 13 miles.

Wednesday night, I felt bushed, and ended up just running six easy miles around BCC during the workout.

Thursday, I met up with Karl in Vienna and we took the W&OD west to the cross county trail. We stopped along the way to check out a parallel trail to the north, then caught the other trail. It was nothing short of marvelous. Soft, scenic and restorative. We eventually turned back and grabbed some greek food for dinner and ran back to his car for a total of about 13.5.

The office closed early Friday, so I had a little more sunlight for my workout- 2ks at McLean High School. It was a bit windy, though, and I misjudged my effort to fight the wind, coming through the first lap in 72, then calming down to a 4:55 mile and a 6:17 2k. Then I was a little more on track with a 6:19 second 2k. I hit the 1k in 3:06 for the third, right on, but couldn't breathe, so I gave up and took a long cooldown home for 12.5.

Fundamental failure

I had an opportunity to run a great half marathon this morning and I blew it by not being aware of where I was less than three minutes into the race.

I took Thursday off when I came home from work feeling exhausted. I ran a solid 10 miles the next morning on the Steelers loop at 6:28 pace. Got to sleep kind of early, then up at 8 Saturday to do a Fisherman's loop. The trip to Philadelphia with Dart, then the Millers, went smoothly, as did the packet pickup and dinner. I got to bed at nine, slept well until five, and felt great when I got up and warmed up to the start. I jogged a bit with Drea, Dart and the Butcher of Damascus, then waded around in the maroon corral (who was it who kept pronouncing it "coral" last year?).

After an unexplained delay, we got started. I had a significant blockade of women in the way, so I swung out to the right to get around them, but I was somehow behind some stupid little guy with his hair sprayed to look like an eyetalian flag. I caught up to a pack of dudes and settled in, and felt nothing out of the ordinary. I saw Wager, so I inched up to him and whispered "send 'em" and we exchanged a quick five. I slide back a little, and suddenly saw the first mile mark and looked at my watch- 5:02. JESUS H. CHRIST.

I immediately dropped back, terrified of the hole I had dug for myself. But in dropping back, I was firmly putting myself in no-man's land between the fast half-marathoners and the marathoners. This wasn't a situation like the GMU 5k, I made the right move in not trying to run with them. There were just so many guys up there, I didn't think they could all be running the half- I figured the majority of guys would be running the full to run 2:18. My plan was to just sit in a pack with them and cover real estate. I literally had no idea how fast I was running inthat first mile. I thought I might be cold and stiff from standing in the corral for so long and 5:17-5:19 was that fast. So, I ran by myself for four miles. 5:17, 5:19, 5:23, 5:31. I was pretty much on my five-mile goal time, but I got there the wrong way.

The group of guys chasing sub 2:19 passed me and I maybe hung on for 30 seconds, but I was tying up already. I hit another 5:31 and a 5:25 on a long straight. A pair of guys gapped me briefly, but I reeled them in and pulled away from them on a long uphill in mile eight, which I hit in 5:43. I was alone most of nine, hit that in 5:40, and thought I had a chance to at least match my 10 mile PR (54:24) with my 10-mile split, though my original pacing plan would have been more than 90 seconds ahead. Nope. Long uphill, mostly by myself, though I saw three guys in red ahead of me. Then, running down the road, with no pothole, my left ankle gave out and I yanked the hell out of it. I came though the 10th mile in 5:54, 54:50-- my second-fastest 10 mile, but not by much, and at this point, I consider my 10 mile PR to be my second softest, after the marathon.

The 11th mile was almost all downhill, but with my ankle probably sprained, I could bear only a 5:31. I came across a 180 turn, which, for some reason, this marathon/half-marathon had. That's ok in a little community 5k, but not in a metropolitan marathon, that's just lazy and unimaginative. I saw Curt Larimer, who I figured was doing the marathon, but did the half. Baressi passed me and I quietly encouraged him, but I was toast by this point. He was running the full, and him passing me was rough--he's very talented, but I should have been well ahead of most guys running the full marathon. I tried to hang, but it wasn't happening.

I thought maybe, with an 11-mile split of 1:00:21, I could keep things together for a pair of 5:30s and at least get in under 1:12. Nope. 5:48, 6:24 with the .1, and I lost ground to a guy in red in the last half mile. As it turned out, I had a healthy (90+) second lead over him at Freedom's Run.

It was just poorly done all around. One of the 13 splits was right. One was 15 seconds fast, the others were all slow. I was disappointed, but more embarrassed that such a stupid mistake, such unbridled enthusiasm led to my downfall. I was, for a while, a cockeyed optimist, thinking I could still run sub-5:20s on my own after a 5:02, but no. I tied up more and more as the race went on, and the last three miles, after stumbling, my calves got extremely tight, and following that, my shins. When I finished the race, I couldn't jog over to watch the marathoners go by.

Scott dropped out when I saw him, cramps forcing him to confront the misery of trying to push throug 13 more miles. We walked around, got some dry clothes and watched the finish. I saw Greg Byrnes, Brandon G., Michelle M., Dart, the Burhams, Mindy S., Katie Sheedy, Sam Howard (who qualified by a few seconds), and Jeff, though apparently I missed Cavanaugh, and left 30 secondds before Ali Belicose came by. I went back to the hotel, took a hot bath, packed and met the GRC people for a few minutes before Michelle Corkum and Andy picked me up. Michelle was eyeing a trials qualifier, having run 2:48 in LA earlier this year, but a last-minute cold left her feverish, achy and miserable and she dropped out at 13. Emily Ward thinks she broke her heel, and she was out at 14. Michelle M. felt the race slip away early and was out of it. Drea PRed in the half, and Dart PRed by more than six minutes, though she wanted to be two minutes faster. No men qualified, Kevin Pool once again coming close. In the marathon, the only person I think who made it was Sam Howard-- Liz Graham's protoge.

That all goes to demonstrate two things- Philadelphia is a hard course, and qualifying for the olympic trials is hard. As it should be. It's not something you can do on a lark, as a girl I met last year seemed to think when she said she and her sister were going to do it. You need to know exactly what you'll be dealing with as the race goes on, and I am positive that means overdistance training, a 30-mile long run. That all said, Hallinan and Blood ran under 1:05 in the half, which was pretty good.

That's disappointment right there

I rode in the backseat of Michelle's car, heading to Pittsburgh, knowing I let a great fall's worth of training, along with the summer full of misery while building my base, go to waste because I didn't figure out where a half-mile marker was so I could be sure I was going out appropriately. Part of what appealed to me about the race was that the marathon and half started together and shared the course for almost 13 miles. That seemed great to me, because I could run with Karl -- he'd have a good feel for the pace, and I could keep him company, help with the pace and he'd keep me calm. When he fell ill, the first thing I should have done was ensure that I had landmarks to check my pace, because I wouldn't know who was running 5:17s otherwise. It was simple preparation, and it was just as imporatant as the long runs, the track workouts, the moderate runs and progressions. A 5:02 mile, when I wanted to be runninr 5:17s, was devastating. I sat in the car, which was way too warm, wondering if I got too excited about club nationals after Richmond and lost focus, or if my heart went out of it when I found out Karl wouldn't be running--maybe I wanted to take responsibility for helping him out so I wouldn't focus on how easy it is to give up.

To be clear, I don't think I gave up, I think given what I did in the beginning miles, dealing with wind along the Delaware River in mile three, plus the trauma I put my legs through in mile nine, I was going about as fast as I could. And, in the end, I was 16 seconds off my PR. I should be happy that considering how much went wrong in several phases of the race, that I was a little more thana second per mile off my PR, but I just can't be happy with it. I was ready for more, much more, than I accomplished today. That PR, which I set when I was sick ,running alone in a cocurse that barely had a mile of flat stretch, let alone the 6.5 this had, in the rain, was from the hard 13-mile run Steve prescribed, it was more a time trial than a race, and I picked that course over Buffalo Creek because I wanted to be sure Philly wouldn't be harder and I would run faster if all went well. Getting congratulatory messages from well-wishers was tough, because if they took the time to care, I wanted to give them something worth seeing when the looked up my results.

Madeline suggested I peaked too early. Absolutely not, I feel like my training was spot on, but I just made the dumbest mistake possible, one that I had several opportunities to prevent, and the regret I feel going forward and the missed opportunity will go a long way toward ensuring I don't do it again. It will also haunt me until I take another crack at the half, probably in Pittsburgh. It starts on Thursday with the Gutbuster. As Mike Tomlin, whose quotations I relish for his locution, said after some boneheaded playing cost a few games in 2009, I'm about to unleash hell. That second loop is toast.

The fall is by no means a failure, I ran a great, strong race on my own at Freedom's Run and fough pretty hard in Richmond. If I had a blase attitude at all toward the race because I was looking ahead to nationals, well, time to seriously focus on that. It's a chance to make up for my failings in Philly.

Rough few days

I slept in Wednesday morning and spent most of the day watching heavy rain fall. The workout that night, 6xmile, was exactly what I had wanted to do for several weeks, but the weather was not looking good. On top of that, I had been having trouble breathing for the past week and a half. I noticed the previous Monday night, while reading in bed, that I didn't feel as though I was getting enough air when I breathed, despite deep breaths. The air didn't have the same fulfilling effect, like when I was struggling in at the end of the towpath long run a few weeks ago. I wondered if I would stop breathing while I was asleep and suffocate, which just mad me more anxious. I somehow survived the next eight days, running workouts and races with no ill effects. But I was still worried.

The workout started well. The rain stopped in advance and I felt okay in the warmup, and the first few miles were delightful- 5:08, 5:03, 5:00. I led the second almost perfectly, just a little fast for the last lap, and feeling like I could go at 5:04 pace all day. Within 200 meters of the 4:56 mile, though, I felt myself unable to get a satisfying breath. I once again did not suffocate to death, but I felt like I was on the brink. I also had a good amount of gastrointestinal distress before the first one, after the second one and when I was cooling down.

I did a Marymount loop Thursday morning, recalling the last time I did it, I listened to Very Tough Love, one of the better This American Life episodes I've heard recently. I was struggling in the humidity again, stopping at the top of the trail and a few times in the 11th mile. It was rough, I tell you. Then, on the way to work, I got up from my seat on the metro and rushed up the escalator at Metro Center. I just missed the red line train, and I had five minutes to wait until the next train. It was incredibly stuffy in there, and I started feeling weak. I looked over and saw I still had five minutes to wait and wondered if I could make it. Then I heard very loud noises and saw nothing. I opened my eyes and saw people everywhere looking down at me. I had evidently passed out, and realized I was soaked with sweat. I took off my windbreaker and instantly felt better, drank some water and felt better still. Chalked it up to my low heart rate and heat exhaustion, with which my cardiologist concurred, and felt better pretty quickly, back to normal by lunch.

I got home in time to run in a gnarly storm- 6 miles on the Seaton loop, sometimes going through ankle-deep water, averaging 6:29s. It eased up toward the end, but the most memorable scene from that run was water rushing across the W&OD trail between Grove and West.

Friday morning I did an easy Scott's Run for 11 miles, stopping a few times in the last mile. Still ridiculously humid. I saw my pulmonologist, and I had forgotten how at ease he was. He said it was hyperventilation syndrome. I'm getting plenty of oxygen, I just need to stop worrying about it.

Saturday morning was a big improvement- sun and a slight breeze to move around the damp air. Witty, Breezy and a dude named Rod joined me at the store for a Dalecarlia loop. Breezy left us for the trails before he could enjoy the fruits of our uphill running, and I think I pushed a little hard on the parkway hills, but it was all good. We ended up averaging 6:40s and I discovered Rod was a Hampden-Sydney alumnus, so we had some good laughs about times The Hill.

That afternoon, I wound around the corridor between Great Falls and Westmoreland for 4.5 miles to total 100 for the week.

Sunday morning, I did a punctuated Westmoreland for 6.5 miles, then in the afternoon biked to McLean High School for a workout. I planned to do 20 minutes at 5:30 pace, eight minutes easy and 20 more minutes at 5:20 pace. I was a little fast for the first segment-5:25, 5:29, 5:25 and change, and was pretty darned thirsty. An asian family was all over the place, including a guy I call YF2k55, and his grandson kept cheering from the stands as I ran by, which was kind of nice. The second segment was not so smooth- I hit my first mile in 5:23 and was done- lightheaded and thirsty. My cooldown involved a jog to a 7-11 on Chain Bridge Road where I purchased a pair of Gatorades and drained one before getting back to the track. Yep, I was pretty thirsty. It was a rough workout to try on my own, but I think having the constant feedback from the track made up for that.

Oh, this was amusing.

Distance hangover

Last week, I had a great workout despite feeling lethargic even after the warmup, so as I moped my way to the track this week, I hoped I was in for an encore. I finished my warmup with a 74 second quarter, and didn't feel too stressed, so things boded well. The workout was 6x1200 with two apiece at 74,73,72, certainly attainable, and I was eager to do it. I led the first one in 3:41, after a 76 second first 400. The second one, also 3:41 felt fine. Our pacing was perfect for the first lap of the third, but I suddenly got extremely tired, and I showed why running 21+ miles the day before a workout is a bad idea. I took Lily for almost two miles around the track, then did another mile or so before hitting the road for another cooldown.

I was still feeling wrecked in the morning when I did a Park Plus, so I cut off the second time on Highland and came up Grove instead for 6.5. Because I didn't push myself too hard last night, I will take another shot at the workout tonight at NOVA's fundraider 5k for Jerry. It just so happens I'll be doing one of my other coach's workouts- running the first mile hard then fartleking the rest, probably 1:15 on, 1:30 off. That should give me a good workout but not drain me for the Run Around the Square Saturday morning in Pittsburgh.

I've done that race three times- had my ass kicked once, run away with it once and done alright once. In 2004 I just couldn't handle the hot and humid weather that floored me before the first mile was over. In 2008, I ran with the overflowing enthusiasm of having returned to a job I liked, but in 2009 I had just done too much hard running that week, including a 12-mile tempo two days before, to be able to hang with Remix and an SOB from ERW.

The temperature has been cooling consistently, and soon I'mm feel secure in going out for 12 or 13 and can get back to some of the places I have been neglecting, Annandale in particular. And, with my new Zipcar membership, evening runs at Difficult Run are much more feasible.

Dragging

Last August was tremendous for training. This August, so far, has been horrendous.

Right now I can't imagine running hard for a long time. Which is why the framework of my season is so refreshing right now. As much difficulty as I am having running with ease right now, I'll be racing in a totally different climate. Last summer was no peach, either, but by the time I got to early October, and even the beginning of Chicago. I'll be doing the long workouts in September, October and November, all of which will be a lot more appealing to my delicate temperature sensitivity. ("Just get a skirt that wicks the sweat away, Nancy." - Joe Wiegner)

I have a week in Madison County, Va. to keep me motivated, I need it right now.

Tuesday night I did an Oak loop for 10 miles at 6:50 pace, with nothing significant to note. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't miserable.

Wednesday morning I got up to do my typical workout morning Park Plus, but 41 seconds into the run, I just had no desire to keep going, so I stopped. That afternoon it was cooler (high 70s) but extremely humid. I dragged through the warmup and decided against the 3x2 mile, instead planning on 5x1200. We started out with two 3:45s, and they went smoothly, though I noticed I felt no different during the intervals than I did during the recovery. This became a much bigger problem when I led the next one, intending to run 3:42,and I found myself two seconds fast for the first lap. I stopped running and just had enough. By this point rain was falling, but the temperature and humidity did not change. My head was mired in a cloud of heat and the rain drops did not help it at all. I certainly did not want to run anymore, so I went home in hopes of getting a good night's sleep.

Thursday morning, I thought I had it all figured out- a frozen squeeze bottle of gatorade should get me through my run to work without the crash I felt last week. For the most part I felt alright, though I stopped at 8.25 to completely wring out my shirt. I started getting overheated at 9.5, crossed the bridge and again stopped at Leo's at GW for more gatorade. I made it exactly 12 miles, then I stopped for a traffic light. When I took my first step off the curb when the light went my way, I started to lose my balance, so I stopped immediately and walked the last mile.

After a day full of rehydration, I went home and ran a Seaton, six miles at 6:40 pace. I was shocked at how fast I went without even trying, when just 10 hours before I would have just been happy with being able to run another mile.

My mom came to visit, and she wanted to run Friday morning, so after a good night's sleep, we drove to McLean high school, and I warmed up for what I planned to be 5xmile speeding up a second per lap starting at 5:16. I did so for the first mile, but I felt wrecked afterward, so I just did another 2k loop as a cooldown. Mom felt no better after four miles on the track. Suffice it to say, we will not be doing Riley's Rumble.

One-day rebound

The Tuesday afternoon following the Boston trip, I did an easy 12 miles out and back to Vienna on the W&OD, averaging 6:50s.

Wednesday night's track workout did not go well. It was warm and I didn't come prepared with enough to drink. I was exhausted from the weekend's lack of sleep and I was getting a little sick, and running did not help this time. I did the first two miles fine- 5:14 and 5:08. After a few steps of the 5:05, I stopped running. I tried a few other times to start up again, but my will to go on really wasn't there. I jogged a few cooldown laps with Beth and Dart.

I stayed in Bethesda Wednesday night in hopes of getting a good night's sleep and dispensing with the hour-long trip home, but I ended up being unable to fall asleep until after 1. I got up at 6 to go meet Jake, Luffy and Karl to run, but felt fine. The weather was superb. We did a little more than 7 and I continued to feel fine, then got totally manic at work before crashing at 3. I ran five more miles when I got home, but was pretty wiped out, despite continuing awesome weather.

I planned to run around Crystal City during the evening 5k and watch the race, but the cold rain made me reconsider, in hope of keeping myself healthy for my workout the next morning.

That night in Princeton, Luffy ran 14:15 and Tim Quinn hit 14:08. I know I say it a lot, but I remember when guys on the Richmond team were impressed with Hannay ran 15:07. Now we have three guys under 14:09 (Benford- 13:55, Llano-14:00 and Quinn). The best part has been Tim's consistent improvement. To paraphrase my high school coach, you can train Benford and Llano by having them drink beer and lift weights...Quinn's improvement, along with the rest of the Spiders' depth, is testament to Steve's coaching acumen.

I was a little bummed nobody was interested in running the four mile special Saturday morning, but no matter, I would achieve on my own! I did a good warmup, put on my old Nike Milers from 2004, which only come out for the cross country alumni race, and had at it. Great pacing in the first mile- 75.04, 2:30 on the nose, 3:45.17, 5:00.09. My recovery 400 was not good, though- 94 seconds, and I rushed to get it that fast. I did a few 400s and 800s, but never really felt up to continuing to run. I couldn't put together a decent workout. Surely my choice of hobbies needed some reexamination... I sat around with my friend's bird I'm minding, pissed off.

I went home and lied around for a while. After drifting in and out of a nap for 45 minutes, I checked to see if Alex would be up for keeping me company on his bike while I did a 10/10/10 p-word. None such luck, he was going out to dinner. I'd be on my own again.

It was 70 degrees and humid when I got going. I felt light and energetic, better than I expected. I got going too fast- 2:40 at the half mile mark, so I made a conscious effort to slow down- it worked moderately- 5:30 at the mile. Ugh, fast again, I always take this workout out too fast. Then I had to wait on the median on Route 7 to cross, the first time traffic interrupted one of these. I stayed loose into the Pinecastle neighborhood, but still came through 45 seconds soon, so I jogged around until I hit 10 minutes. I kept things more under control in the second 10 minutes- 2:52 at the half (right on), but 5:38 at the mile. I switched the second 10 minutes to follow Virginia and do and out-and-back on Hurst and Center, which is a lot flatter than going down Nottingham and coming back up the trail by Idylwood Park right before starting the third 10 minute interval. I started my last interval hoping to run close to five minute pace, though the last two times I have done this workout I have faded in the fourth quarter of the first mile and averaged 5:15 and 5:17. The entire stretch is on the W&OD Trail, which has markers every half mile, though they don't line up exactly with where I start, but I have a few landmarks that are easy enough to see when I am trying to keep my eyes up. I hit Virginia Lane at 75 for a little more than a quarter, which is a little fast, but downhill, though narrow. The next half mile rolls, and I managed to keep a consistent rhythm, coming through that measured half in 2:30 and getting a passing compliment from a biker. This is where these workouts usually falter, and I felt like the heat was going to give me trouble, but when I hit the second marker I was at 4:59. With less than four minutes to go, I found no reason not to just keep going. The trail crosses a few small streets, but there was only traffic at one, and I got through the intersection faster as a result. Time was counting up to 30 minutes, and I just wanted to get close to the telephone pole near the Great Falls intersection that marked a little more than two miles from my starting point. I made it.

In the end, I had what was probably my best workout of the season, not 12 hours after what I thought was the end of my competitive season, because I couldn't imagine trying to race after having run like I did in the morning. I have run under 10 minutes for two miles twice this year- 9:55 and 9:56, both in track races, in spikes, pulled along by other runners, after a dead start. This time, after running decently hard for 20 minutes, with nothing really pulling me along, I ran pretty much the same pace. I also felt great doing it. When I have raced lately, I haven't felt the same drive I had from 2004-2009, when I would just go out and lead road races and still be pushing at the end with nobody to chase, including races where I didn't have anyone contend with me at all. There are a lot of workouts when I wonder where that drive has gone, then I have workouts like these, where I know I've found it. In the end, that is going to be necessary for me to run a good time at Maryland next Thursday. I'm not going to have a huge pack to stick in and run with, even if I have someone else, a good portion of my race will require the same drive that this workout took.

Sunday morning, I ran with Jake, JARRIN and Tex on the trails behind JARRIN Manor. It was warm, humid, muddy and hilly and I was pretty tired. I did about seven miles and called it a day. I decided against running in the afternoon.

Monday morning, I got up to do 400s at the George Marshall track. It was muggy and I was tired, but I got up there and started off with 70,69,70,69, with a large goose watching me from the long jump runway. When I started number five, though, that same ambivalence and malaise hit me, and I was done. I did some 200s, but I felt empty and once again lacking the drive to keep going. Suffice to say, 400s are hard on your own.

At least I outkicked the GW guy

I knew Nightingale was going to take the race out fast, so I thought I was sitting far enough back.

Clearly, it was not far enough back.

When I heard my first lap split was 69, I nearly had an aneurysm. What in God's name was I doing? I thought I was in the second group, the one running at a more moderate pace. After two more 71s, it became clear that was not the case, and George Mason had the deepest 5k field in the last decade or two. These guys aren't going to slow down, I realized, so I needed to back off. It was then I probably ruined the race I had found myself in.

Upon hearing how fast I was going, I had two productive choices- keep it up and burn myself out and see where it takes me, or immediately slow down and get back on my planned 4:55 pace. I did neither. From there it just got ugly. Through the mile in 4:47, the 2k in 7:20, but I was going the wrong way. Conor and Adam passed me then. Adam said something I couldn't make out and I mumbled in response. Then they were gone. I ran the second half on my own, struggling and getting slower. The only thing that buoyed my race was kicking down a George Washington kid. Their former coach, Jim Something, was a dick to me in 1999, so I have been taking it out on GW dudes ever since. Otherwise, I ran a gutless race for 15:48. I also beat two VMI guys, but they barely count.

That said, it was my 14th college-level track race, and by far the fastest 5k in which I have ever been embroiled. It was nice, though, to have Murph, L. Diddy, Stubbs, Lori, Jenn, Nicol, Erin, Skipper Little Benford and an assortment of other Spiders cheering for me. I just wish I had run smarter. Either way, faster or slower. There was no smart middle ground.
The 4:47 was my fastest mile in two years. I know I'm reasonably fast. The only training tweaks I can think of is not wearing a watch for my distance runs and finding some way to keep the slower portions of my "p-word" runs under control.
Next Sunday's B.A.A. 5k will be the first race I run this year that I had run last year, so I will get a good assessment of how much I have progressed.

A bit of rest

I made the gut-wrenching decision to forgo the Cherry Blossom race this year in favor of a few additional days of training to tackle the 5k. Sticking with Cherry Blossom would have added 10 miles and another race to create a five-week block of races, which, while fun, would not have been great for my training in the long run. The GMU invite for CB was an entirely rational decision and will be better for me in the end.

But it didn't feel that way when our 15 men and three women ran by in their GRC singlets. Every one of the guys had a fantastic race. Even in the rare instance when their time was not faster than before, running those times under those circumstances was an achievement. To not have run among my teammates in a race that we dominated was torture.

Instead I planned on an early morning fartlek that pretty much didn't happen. I slept a little more than three hours to wake up at 5 and head to the city with Nate and Luke. Those two slept in the car while I tried to do 3x(8 min hard, 2 easy, 2 hard, 4 easy) on Hains Point and the Mall, but it was a disaster from the start. I was using my heart rate monitor, and it suggested I was north of 180 during my warmup. Given my lack of sleep, that might have had shred of truth to it. After my 15 minute warmup, I had at it, but 44 seconds in, I knew I was asking too much of myself. I cruised along for another 45 seconds then decided to take it easy from then on.

In the afternoon I ran around Wiggy's hood of Twinbrook, down the Trolley Trail to North Bethesda with Danielle. After running with her for a while, I turned back and headed to Karl's and did some drills.

I had to have some dental work done to fix the unfortunate effects of the mouthpiece I briefly wore to try to ameliorate my sleep apnea. I had never worn a retainer before, and had not developed the half-conscious awareness of warming the retainer with water before removing it. Unable to sleep one night, I tore it out, severely damaging a molar, which eventually had to be removed. So, Monday was the day, and when I slept until 7:30, a likely outcome after being out of the house for 15 hours on Sunday, I ended up skipping my run and taking a day off.

Tuesday night I went out and ran a Thomas, focusing on staying relaxed. That, evidently, meant going pretty fast, because I averaged around 6:00 for my first four miles until I slowed down, realized how fast I was going.

Wednesday was ripe for a good workout- I was feeling good, the weather was great, the workout got shorter (6,5,4,3,2,1) and I was confident I could hit the A group's target times: 75s,74s,73s,72s,71s and a 68. Some of the later ones were ambitious, but I felt I could handle them.

I felt sluggish on the warmup, but managed to do a 2:30 800 at the end to get my legs ready to go. I followed the dudes through the 2400 in 7:25, so a little fast, but I felt totally comfortable, though my intestines were giving me some trouble. About 500m into the 2k, I started to feel them again, and realized it would be untenable. I cut off at 800 in 2:28-perfectly on pace- and headed up to the bathroom. When I got back, the group was doing a recovery lap and I was relaxed and ready to go for the mile. I was at 3:40 through 1200, but had a rough fourth lap and finished in 4:56, four seconds slow. The other guys, having run about 4:50, were already well ahead of me on the recovery, which they were doing much faster than I was used to. I caught them, and we started the 3:36-goal 1200, but I was out of it by the 200m. I was still beaten from the recovery that didn't take place. I ran with everyone for the last 400m, which I did in 70.

I did another 400 in 71 by myself, then prepared to run the 68-target 400 with everyone else. I told myself to stay loose, no matter what, and if running that fast would mean I would lose my loose form, I would stop. I made it 200m in 33 low before I tightened up. Good enough for a workout that was already over.

It was disheartening to see that even if I had been able to match their interval times, the amount of recovery I needed still separated me from the A group. I wonder if I will ever get there. What are reasonable goals, anyway? Then I lost my wallet, which made me feel even worse.

Thursday afternoon I did a 30 minute "p word" run, planning for 10 minutes at 6:00, 10 at 5:45 and 10 between 5:00 and 5:15. I got very lucky with the traffic at each crossing and never had to wait to cross. I was a little fast, though. I hit 5:30 for the first mile (way too fast!) and by the 1.6 mile mark, where I was supposed to hit 10 minutes, I was only at 9:00, meaning I had run 5:37 pace to get there. I ran in a big circle for a minute to start the next 10 minutes on the right mark. I ran more evenly there, hitting the half mile in 2:52 (though it was uphill) and the mile in 5:38. I ended up averaging 5:42 for the next 10. The last went pretty well, though I surely would have run faster had I controlled myself more early on. I ran 1.9 miles, averaging 5:15 pace. I was happy with it as a whole, though I really needed to correctly estimate my first mile pace. That kept me from dipping under 5:05-5:10 at the end.

I'll then have an easy day Friday before running the GMU Invite's 5k Saturday evening. I hope that I can run a better race on top of fixing what went wrong in my pre-race routine at Richmond.

Dying too young...

A great workout died in its adolescence.

The 4x1.5 mile workout scheduled for Wednesday was going to be a great mix of speed and duration, giving me four chances to push through the fairly arbitrary mile mark of a hard run.

Jerry's plan for the B group was 79, 78, 77, 76, and I was ready for that, enduring what is now a thankfully slow track pace of 79-second quarters and slowly but confidently speeding up.

The first one went EASILY- 7:50 with a 5:14 mile en route.

I followed Dickson for the second and we started hitting 76s consistently, going through the mile in 5:05 (my fastest mile in I don't know how long) and continuing to 7:40. Those last two laps, however, I felt growing discomfort in my abdomen, and I was worried my hold on my digestive track was as tenuous as a North African despot's control of his county. Which county? Take your pick, really...

After crossing the finish line, I sped up to B-CC's lobby to use the bathroom, and managed to return just shy of the four minute recovery period. Maybe I could avoid disrupting the workout after all. I rejoined the group as they sped off, but 200 meters in I knew my hubris has gotten the best of me-- while my training partners were jogging relaxedly, I had been rushing back and forth, stressing out about finishing the workout, basically NOT recovering. I jogged back to the line, waited for the group to come through at 800 meters and joined them for the next 800 to stay loose and warm- 2:31. The civil unrest continued and it became necessary to exile more dissidents.

I joined Dickson and Dangerous Dave for the last of their 'peats, and was handling it pretty well, coming through 1200 in 3:50, but I knew my time on my legs was numbered. I decided to go for it and try to run a fast mile, but I wasted a lot of breath trying to explain to them what I was doing.I took off with 300m to go, but tied up with 100 left. I managed a 75 for the last 400 to finish with another 5:05. I jogged a bit then joined Brian for a 76/77 last quarter.

I wound up with 4.75 miles of quality speed work, but it was far from what I wanted to do or what I was capable of doing. Just as I knew I was in for a bad workout during my warmup last Tuesday, I was ready to handle it, probably run below 7:40 for the last two, but my digestive problems poisoned my chances.

Thursday I ran a Catholic 11 at lunch, averaging 6:25. I pushed pretty hard up Harewood Road, but for the most part was relaxed and focused on my form. I'm tired and need a good night's sleep.

That's enough...

I slept in a bit on Friday, preventing me from feeling comfortable enough to stop in Hancock for my run during my drive home. I made it to Pittsburgh with 45 minutes to spare before lunch with my dad at Tessaro's, so I ran a quick three miles in Frick Park. It was great to be back there, and crisp fall weather that I have come to associate with that park, but recent tree removals uphill from the Kensington Trail have left the northern edge of the park looking awful. My mom said they were diseased, but still...

I met up with Steve when the Richmond team arrived at Schenley Park to make dinner plans then sped off to Mt. Lebanon to catch Coach A and the Lebo cross country guys, who had just finished third at the WPIAL meet. North Allegheny and Baldwin ended up beating them, but they were on their way to states again. I wish I had been able to take Thursday off, too, so I could have watched the WPIAL race that afternoon. Lebo 2000 alumnus Tim Sofis is coaching now, along with Oscar Shutt, who has been there a few years.

I had a little time to take a hot bath at my mom's house, which I miss terribly since I don't have a bath tub. After visiting my neighbor and hearing about his Halloween costume, I joined the Richmond teams for dinner at their hotel. Pat Barkhuff arrived and I hung out with Steve, Molz and Dan Petty before the team meeting started. We ran into Coach Wright on our way out of the hotel.

The next morning I got another easy three miles in on the course and got ready to see the race that would pump wild amounts of adrenaline through my body. When I ran, I heard a constant bleeting of a horn and the humming of a vuvuzela. I had enough of those during the World Cup, but now it seemed an awful bunch of Duquesne guys were making as much noise as possible, to my chagrin. I turned to Barkhuff and said, "that will be even funnier when they come in fifth."

I've always had a distaste for Duquesne. Both of my parents went to grad school there, though they would be loathe to admit it. We never discussed it as an option when I thought about college, though I didn't want to stay in Pittsburgh anyway. Their cross country team once featured Dickie Hildebrand, a hated North Allegheny rival of my LCC teams, and for some collection of reasons, I always resented the school and the program in particular. Maybe part of it comes from Tim Wu, which I promise will come up later in the story. I take a lot of pleasure in the Richmond basketball team never losing to Duquesne, even in our worst years. Post-Gazette and Tribune-Review writers would write "the Dukes lost to lowly Richmond" but those homers rarely checked to realize Duquesne had never won in that rivalry, so it was Duquesne that was lowly.

The Richmond women got out well. George Washington's Megan Hogan lead from the start and pulled away throughout for a dominant win, but the Spiders looked great from my vantage point a mile in on top of one of the dirt piles in the wasteland, the sandy, open portion of the Schenley Park trails near the Anderson Bridge. Nicol Traynor and Amy Van Alstine were solidly in second and third, and Julie Rechel and Jill Prentice were in sixth and seventh, with Jenn Ennis slightly back. The collegiate 5k course at Schenley isn't terribly great for spectators, though it's great for runners. I ran up the hill and saw them finish, and Richmond scored a comfortable victory over LaSalle, 43-68.

Then it was time for the show to start.

Eight years, ago, sidelined with a stress fracture after two races that saw me in the team's top five, I drove to Pittsburgh from Richmond with Ian Woie and Angry to watch the 2002 conference championship. We were a motley group, most of whom had suffered for at least a year, some two, under a less-than-ideal coaching situation for collegiate runners before Steve and Lori Taylor arrived, typified by Jon Lauder, who developed from a gangly high school runner, whom his teammate bet his car wouldn't break five minutes in a mile, into a 15:23 5k runner in his first spring under Steve's coaching. The cross country team had improved -- we won the Overton's Pirate Invitational in North Carolina and had seven healthy guys who could break 27 minutes (that was good for us). After an eighth-place finish in our first year in the Atlantic 10, we were sure to climb the results. Right?

On a freezing morning, I hobbled around and watched my teammates race. We gave it our best shot, but ended up eighth again, demoralized. I missed the bus ride back because I drove back with my fellow travelers, but I could not imagine the mood.

When the gun went off, I assumed my normal routine for watching the race. Catching the guys 100 meters in, then scrambling down a hill to 700 meters where an absolute wall of runners heads down the trail.The first mile had to have been faster than 4:30. I ran over to the 2.25 mile mark and hung from a tree on the hillside so I could yell down to them. The pack was still pretty tight, Andrew Benford and Matt Llano in front, with the Lemon twins from Dayton close behind. Tim Quinn followed, with another Dayton guy behind him. It looked to be close with them. I was surprised to see Jon Wilson, continuing his comeback season, with Levi Grandt and Ryan Lee in pursuit. We looked to be in good shape. The course makes a loop that climbs a steep hill on a single-track trail, and Llano came out first.

As soon as the slower runners got off the trail, I headed back to about 900 meters left on the course to watch them come out of the woods and onto the flat oval. I stood at the top of the hill where John Ciccarelli broke Mike Didio in 2004 to win Richmond's first individual A-10 title. I heard Mrs. Benford shout "It's Andrew!" and got ready for what would be one of the heart-stopping moments of my life as a distance running enthusiast. Benford fights up the hill, Chris

Lemon a step or two back. Llano moving ferociously to catch them. Matt Lemon chasing him, keeping the team race close. Then Quinn surged up the hill, and another Dayton guy chased him. This was turning out to be more like a dual meet, which is what I worried about. With such a great top three, Richmond did well because Benford and Llano could score in the single digits with Quinn perhaps 20 back. In a smaller race, having the the two best runners in the conference didn't provide such an advantage.

After Quinn passed I saw a disturbing number of Duquesne runners and no Richmond. I finally saw Levi chasing the fifth Duquesne guy. What happened to Jonny? Did he drop out? Did he just fall apart? Get hurt? Go out too fast? I started spouting gibberish to my mom, who came to watch. This couldn't happen. Duquesne couldn't beat us- not with this team we put together. Not that awful school on the bluff!

I rushed over to see the finish. Benford had a five second lead on Lemon 1 and held it to the finish. Llano came in six seconds later. Lemon 2 followed. Quinn was sixth, just ahead of the first Duquesne guy. Then the second, third and fourth guys. Oh man, here comes reality, the unlikely defeat. Suddenly, Jonny popped up. I don't know how I missed him, but I was glad to see him now. Levi came charging behind Duquesne's fifth. That was five for us. I ran over to the chute. Quinn saw me sprinting and hugged me with whatever intensity he was able to muster. Llano was on the ground, exhausted. Benford was staggering around. Levi had saliva all over the place. Jonny had his hands on his knees, I slapped him on the back and told him great job, but I hit him hard enough that he vomited bright green liquid all over the place. Oops. I got away for a while to let them collect themselves and chewed on the tension. How did things shake out with Dayton? I stopped watching them completely.

I thought about where this team had been. In 2000, before I came there, the program was on the ropes. Richmond was moving to the A-10 from the Colonial Athletic Association, and the athletic department was examining its priorities. In November, a subcommittee of the athletic council met to make a recommendation on the future of the men's track and cross country teams to then-President Bill Cooper. The Athletic Strategic Plan stressed promoting the university through revenue sports, plus a return-on-investment analysis of the other sports. As non-scholarship programs, track and cross country were at risk. Athletic Director Jim Miller said at the time that it was probably the teams would remain the way they were -- non-scholarship with few roster spots, but fear remained.
"There decision could be made that this would be the last year of track, but that's not likely," he told The Collegian.
The cross country coach at the time reflected on the strategic plan's emphasis on winning A-10 titles.
"The chances of men's cross country or track doing that are nil," he said. "They're not going to do it without scholarships."

Over near the Richmond tent, the team was back in dry clothes and warmup suits. Steve motioned for me to come over. He gathered the team, and fellow alumni Barkuff, Garrett Graham, Sean McKinney, and Jon Molz and me in a huddle. With his voice low and somber, he said that we had indeed won the race. We quietly celebrated in as dignified a manner as I have ever seen.

The horns and vuvuzela fell silent.

What followed was among him and the men in the huddle, but it was hard to hold back the liquid emotion that was gathering around my eyes. I thought back to the day I met him in October 2001. He told me the team was focused on winning a conference championship. He believed it, and knew it wouldn't be a quick fix. Everything built on itself, and it took a non-linear journey -- the results of the A-10 meet show it- 8,8,4,4,5,4,2,3,8,1. We had guys finishing all over the place some years, but on the day that mattered, we put together a hell of a team.

1-3-6-19-22.

They learned how to be winners. Benford and Llano, already strong freshmen, became about as dominant as they could be. Tim Quinn improved steadily to the point where, as our third man, he finished higher than anyone on the teams for which I ran. Jonny Wilson endured a long injury last year and a comeback that started with him as the eighth man on our team two races ago -- he didn't even figure into the team scoring. Levi Grandt used every ounce of what he had to try to catch that Duquesne guy. Chris York and Jason Skipper finished together to be our six and seventh men. In 2002, their times would have made them the first and second men on our team. Ryan Lee was about 15 seconds behind them.

Dayton wasn't even an issue. Their fourth guy was 42nd, their fifth- 60th. Massachusetts snuck into third, but we had a 51-64 margin over Duquesne.

I walked over to the results and saw Timmy Wu. He said to me "Duquesne ran awesome!"
I responded, "Richmond ran better."
Lori heard me and laughed.

She and Steve were recognized as the coaches of the year. I knew it nine years ago, now the whole conference does.

On to regionals...

The Marathon Rebound

I drove back to Washington afterward, trying to get to the convention center in time to get my race packet. I made it, then skedaddled to Lauren's for dinner with her, Juan, Erin and Mike. I wasn't getting much better, health-wise. The cold that knocked me out most of the week was still there, and I took a Benedryl tablet to help make me able to sleep. It was 8 pm, so I had 12 hours to work it through my system. I drank water and Gatorade expressly to avoid the dehydration that comes with an antihistamine.

I woke up, took a shower, and braved the crowds on the metro ride to the Pentagon.

I spent 35 minutes waiting in line for the bathroom before the race, and found out that the people at the front of the line were only appropriating two bathrooms to our line, rather than three or four, as others were. I checked my bag and ran to the start, making it to the head of the pack with two minutes to spare. I retied my flats and looked around for Dave Burnham and Paul McCaffery, but saw neither.

The cannon fired and I tried to hold my pace while dozens of middle aged men ran ahead. I took it easy and stuck in a pack and came through the first mile in 6:07. I saw a crowd of GRC guys near the Key Bridge, specifically Murphy and Alex. I was already sweating, which was weird. The pack around me thinned, and I kept myself on pace up the hill through the second mile mark at 6:08. 12:15 was pretty much what I wanted for the first two miles.

I got some Powerade (fruit punch, turrible) and water. The third mile was downhill, so 5:45 wasn't alarming. I wound up with another pack and settled in with them. Mike Wardian said we were moving along at just under 6:00 pace, and I was happy with that. It turned out to be 5:50, but that was ok, I had people with whom to go.We crossed the key bridge and I got more Powerade and water, then I heard the shouts of the assembled GRC guys- particularly Texas Paul. As we turned left onto Canal, Jakes Klim and Marren ran alongside me, telling me that Ian was near the lead. I was really happy to be hanging back as I hit five miles in 29:49, with a 5:58 split. A fellow in black with white compression socks who looked familiar inched over and said "I thought that was Charlie Ban," it took me a second, but it was A.J. Kelly, the former IUP runner who still terrorizes the roads in western Pennsylvania. He said he was shooting for 2:35-pace for the half and then speeding up from there. That's exactly what I wanted to hear.

We hit the sixth mile in 5:52, then climbed in the seventh mile, where I took my first gel and had Powerade and water. We headed downhill and I hit 5:42, then I saw Sara "Science" Roberts at the Georgetown driveway. The scene in front of the GRC store on M Street was a zoo, I loved it. I saw a chap in a Richmond sweatshirt and yelled to him. Halfway down Wisconsin, we hit another mile in 5:42. That's where I first became aware of this stocky loudmouth from West Point, who proceeded to talk too effing much for the next few miles.

Another mile, in 5:42 again, got me through 10 miles in 58:59- 5:54 pace- perfect. I heard Mollie right before the mile mark, and she was indeed as loud as she advertised. The West Point guy was getting obnoxious, commenting on everything, trying to talk to people. The price for sticking with this pack was getting higher. Mile 11 went by in 5:53- I was very happy with that pacing. Mile 12 got boring quickly, 5:51. I saw Jake Klim and Chicken Finger Biker in mile 13, and I took another gel before having more Powerade and water- 6:01 at 13, 1:17:19 for the half. 5:48 for mile 14, the West Point guy was really starting to piss me off. We hit a slight hill after 15, which I hit in 5:56, and I let the pack go, figuring I would enjoy it more on my own.

Then I realized that was a mistake. Independence Avenue got really lonely, though Lindsey Jerdonek came to my aid with vocal support. I hit 16 miles at 6:06, and I figured I would just try to run 6:20 pace for the rest of the race. I saw Alex near the Lincoln Memorial, then started to pick up guys who were falling back. 6:13 for mile 17, feeling alright, another aid station. Mile 18 went by in 6:23. Then I started to get a little, I don't know...weak? I moved over to the right side of the course to get out of people's way. Wardian was escorting the women's leader and he kept yelling that people were passing on my right, but it didn't make sense because I was on the far right. They got out of the way eventually. Texas Paul was back, running around like a maniac, and telling me Ian was just a block ahead of me. As much as I wanted to catch him and chide him for running a marathon like that, I was hurting. I went through 19 in 6:52. Uh oh. I drank and had my last gel. Around the 14th Street turn I heard a crowd yelling "go Lebo!" and all of a sudden Neal Hannan was running alongside me. I was starting to get woozy, and I tried to make conversation. Someone had cups

of Gatorade near the bottom of the hill- that was awesome. Lemon-Lime, so much better than fruit punch Powerade. I savored it. I hit 20 miles at 2:00:50, for a 6:44 split. I was averaging a little over 6:02 per mile. Neal patiently ran with me until almost the 21 mile mark, then I was on my own. I hit 6:53 for 21. The friggin' bridge kept going, taking me into Arlington County, which I pretty much hate. I saw Mike Rossi. When I reached Crystal City, Klim popped up and ran with me. He kept me going, even though I couldn't converse much. He waited for me to make a loop at the turnaround and joined up with me again. I asked him but he didn't know how Dave and Jimmy were doing. 23 mile split- 7:21. A few seconds later, Dave ran by and I was powerless to go with him. I saw Rossi again.Then Jake left. 24 mile split: 7:50. Things were getting miserable. I was heading onto a long stretch on Jefferson David Highway. I hated this road when I ran it during the Pacers Half Marathon, and I sure as heckfire hate it now. I ran the 25th mile in 8:16. Just turrible. 1.2 miles left. The course turned down an exit ramp, and I sped up. I could push it to the finish- I was at 2:38 and would still PR. I ran under a bridge and could see the last stretch before the finish line hill. The shade washed over me, I shivered, and can't remember what I felt next. I just remember my legs feeling like they were dropping, even though I was still on my feet. I moved over to the sidewalk. I don't remember making the conscious decision to sit down, but I did. Then I thought about how much better it would feel to lie down. Two medical staffers ran over to me.
"Are you okay?"
"Yep!"
"Do you want to try to finish running?"
"Nope!"
I was freezing. The helped me up and just about 20 feet over to a medical tent I had run by a few seconds before. I wonder if my subconscious took note of that convenience.
They offered to walk with me to the finish. I didn't want to. If I walked, I would probably just finish around 2:50. That was way too much to do to run that time again. I think that I tried to push myself to run faster than my body was able at that point and my body rebelled. I was probably suffering from acute hypothermia. I was sweating from the very beginning, and my insistence on drinking Powerade and water at every aid station, sometimes two cups of either, probably accelerated things. I was soaked for almost the entire race, and I was never warm. It was an odd twist after the last 11 miles in Chicago...
I saw Paul McCaffery run by and tried to yell, but I think my timing was off.
The put me in a cot and covered me with blankets. The oral thermometer read 92 degrees. I was understandably freaked out and asked one of the workers how accurate it was.
"Well, when you've been exerting yourself like this for 2.5 hours, the oral thermometer isn't quite right. If you had passed out, we would have taken your temperature rectally."
I then responded to everyone in attendance, "Rectum? Damn near killed him!"
I saw Kelly Knicklebein run by, I yelled.

They gave me Gatorade (thank God) and a delicious strawberry muffin. I warmed up. After a half hour, they said I seemed fine and could go whenever. They gave me a mylar blanket and sent me on my way. I walked up the road, runners lined up behind me trailing me by hours. Derek Heiss bumped into me at one point. I technically could still finish, but I wasn't going to. The funniest part about it was that I didn't care. I wasn't devastated, nor even sorely disappointed. I was just glad it was over. It didn't work out, now onto something else.

I eventually walked off the course and straight to the baggage trucks, got my clothes and stretched out. I saw Jimmy Daly and looked for anyone else I could find. I found Lauren and Juan and we waited for Erin and Mike to finish. In the teamtime I saw Jessie, the old cross country trainer at Richmond, who mistook me for Hunter Willis. Billy Eayre, Jeff Tissue, Dan Kliefgen and Kristen Connolley came down from Ithaca and Toronto to run and I chatted with them for a while. At no point did I feel sorry for myself, and I was pretty happy with that.

The Richmond victories on Saturday truly made up for any marathon disappointment.

Mike and Erin ran 4:21, pretty good for neither having run more than 14 miles. She spazzed out at mile 15, but Mike kept her together.

I really like most of the Marine Corps Marathon course, certainly the first 20 miles. I just hate most of Arlington County. The bleak highway stretches and that stupid bridge are real kicks in the face after a great 20 miles.

The race was a Hail Mary. It had been five weeks since I had run 70 miles -- I had a five-week taper. I had a chest cold. I ran a marathon 21 days before. There were plenty of reasons the race wouldn't have worked, people told me I was crazy for trying, but I wanted to give it a shot so my fitness didn't go to waste. My fitness was gone, though. If it wasn't my confidence in it was. I missed the high mileage. I railed against the unfairness that now that it was cool enough for me to run far without overheating, I wasn't supposed to anymore.

I decided before this race that I was going to stay away from marathons for a while. I am glad I came to that decision before Marine Corps. I gave it a shot, and though I know the result didn't match my aptitude, I am fine with it now. Other people were fine with one mishap, like Dickson. I wasn't comfortable with chalking it up as a loss, I insisted that it be a spectacular failure, and that's what I got, even though it luckily doesn't feel like it.

I think the adizero adios was the wrong shoe for this race. I was too heavy- I should have stuck with the Manas. My feet were cramped when I was in the tent, and my right calf was tight.

The weekend overall was a pleasant celebration of running for me, though. I got to run in Frick Park, see my high school coach, run in Schenley Park, see college teammates and my college coach, plus the high point for my college team in decades, then run a mostly-pleasant marathon, cheered on by dozens of friends, and see one of my best friends finish her first marathon.

Now what?

I can't even think about running a serious marathon again. Nate, Pokey and Evan and I are doing a 30th birthday race in 2012, even though Evan will almost be 31 by that point, like the Hatfield and McCoy Reunion Festival Marathon. I don't know when I'll want to run another one seriously. I know I never wanted to run one, now I have almost run three. It's hard to rationalize. While I live in the D.C. area, I will never race a fall marathon again, though. Running so much in the summer was miserable.

I'm a little heavy for a marathon runner. Some of it is the junk food, but for the most part I am pretty muscular, which is great in terms of keeping my body resilient through high-mileage training, but weighs on every step in a race. I do enjoy high-mileage training, though. There's no reason I can't do it for half marathons.

Next year will be about short distances, the ones I love. The Fred Hardy Track Invitational 5k, the B.A.A. 5k (this time without a redeye bus trip the day before). The Shamrock 8k, the Pike's Peak 10k, and revenge on the Pittsburgh Half Marathon. Cherry Blossom, though I can't find anything wrong with this year's race. Monument Avenue will be a casualty, and thankfully so will the St. Patrick's Day8k in DC. Falmouth in the summer. Another half in the fall- perhaps Richmond or Philadelphia (not the Rock and Roll race) in November.

I should be getting my tonsils out in December, and I can't wait for that. I will be able to sleep again and not feel them blocking my throat when I am even just sitting down or running.

10-10-10: The date to humiliate

I did it! I ran a marathon!

It took a lot of dedication, discipline, training, focus and determination, but I did it!

Charlie Ban = marathon finisher

The jubilation that someone feels when saying those words with pride is so foreign that I can't comprehend it. I'm beyond it, I'm cynical. The Chicago Marathon was nothing close to what I expected on my worst day. 2:50:04. On one of the fastest courses around. With a deep field amped to run fast.

Things started well enough. An easy flight to Chicago after work on Friday, no trouble getting to Pokey's apartment in Hyde Park. I woke up Saturday morning and took an easy 4.5 mile run, then had breakfast with Molz and a haircut, a meatball sandwich for lunch and a nap while we waited for Bethany to arrive from Pittsburgh. Our trip to the expo was efficient and dinner with the team was delicious. Sleep was a problem, though, Saturday night. Pokey's apartment was a University of Chicago dorm that didn't have air conditioning, but historical temperatures did not necessitate it.

Maybe it was three people sleeping in one room on top of the mid-day high in the mid 80s, but we sweltered. I cooled off by lying on the floor for a while, which helped. At some point, however, I evidently got up and tried to leave, getting as far as into the hallway

before Pokey woke up, asked me what I was doing, and I answered "I have no idea what I'm doing."

All three of us woke up at 5, eager to feel the low in the mid 50s. When we got outside to catch the bus, we learned that those lows wouldn't be coming. It was already in the low 60s, and it did not feel cool.

We caught the bus and I met up with Molz and Garrett. Molz was in a much better spirit than before Richmond. We got off and I parted company with everyone and went to check my bag.

I met up with some of the GRC guys for a team photo that didn't happen and headed to the start with Scott Koonce. Time started moving a lot faster as the race approached and before I knew it, the gun went off.

I realized that a lot of people were way too far ahead in Corral A because just trying to keep a 6:10 mile meant swimming through a crowd. I saw Laura O'Hara briefly in the tunnel and just went with the flow for a while. 6:07.61 A little quick, but I was barely thinking, just trying to keep my breathing relaxed and stay away from crowds that could go down if someone trips. I wanted to see in front of me. 5:46.63 Even faster- I was thinking 5:52-5:55, but there was no use getting hung up on splits this early. 5:50.25 Much better, let's just move a little faster, it will all add up over a mile. Sloane was around here, he said something, but I couldn't understand him. 5:40.93 Perfect! Just maintain this rhythm and I'll be in the right place. Keep it up until mile 21 then start pushing. Wound up with Mark Buschman from the Howard County Striders, with whom I ran part of Parks. 5:35.09 Fast, but I didn't think I needed to slow dramatically. 5:44.04 Busch mentioned it was a little slow, again, I didn't want to overreact. The fast previous mile gave me a cushion. 5:39.30 Great. Had some gu. Heard Madeline Harms to my right! 5:44.33 Cruised along in the shade. 5:36.50 Oh deary me! A little fast! 5:40.20 Saw Javed Gangjee off to the side. Yelled "Happy birthday!" but he didn't hear me, so I got close, and yelled his name. He turned, I repeated my greeting and he yelled for me. 5:39.09 Started running with a big pack that included Tera Moody, one of the better US women and one with whom I identified because of a common inability to sleep. I think hers is chronic insomnia, whereas I hope I can fix mine once doctors rip my tonsils out. 5:41.90 Feeling great- still not breathing hard, just floating along.5:52.63 Woah, I didn't realize we slowed down, but I was hanging with the pack, and for once, I was acquiescent to a mob mentality. Passed the half in 1:15:16- a 3:03 PR! I have to let the good times keep rolling! 5:56.20 Slowed to take some water and gu, but caught up with the pack a little later. 6:06.49 Ok, I rushed too much to catch the pack. My god, it's sunny out here. When did it get so hot? I thought I was still recovering from my effort to surge back up to the pack.

6:08.93 I've been dropped and am running alone. 6:13.00 The wind is getting bad. I am dizzy. Maybe my sunglasses are too tight, I'll take them off. Gosh, it's so sunny. 13:11.74 I couldn't find the mile marker, just stupid kilometers. I was terrified I had dipped into the 7s 6:35.44 hit 20 miles in 1:58:49. Still under six minute pace. If I keep this up, I can run 2:36. Took some water and gu, this will be the last one. I start seeing runners milling around the sidewalks, some sitting down. 6:58.50 Oh carp! My right arm and foot are numb. Did I have a stroke? What am I going to do? Cotterell and Murphy pass me, and I initially see Charlie Van Gombos. What is he doing here? Am I going crazy? I stop and untie my right shoe- maybe it's too tight and is cutting off the circulation to my foot. When I try to start running again, my quads seize up. This is bad. 9:11.13 I see Molz, standing my the side of the road, dripping. He yells for me. Shit, he dropped out? I see Garrett a few yards ahead of him. I start to lose hope. After a while, I sit down on the curb for a while and try to catch my breath. It's not so much of a choice as it is the only thing my body can do. I am so hot. I can't think. Three minutes pass,I have to get going.

9:57.54 I see a water stop, I pass it and pull over behind it and help myself to five cups and lean against the rail of a bridge. If I am going to have water, I am going to enjoy it! 8:31.57 Took a while to walk, stretch out my calves. Man, this marathon blows. 7:04.02 Started running more constantly. Saw a Pacers girl. Aw man, I really am falling back. Saw Javed in here somewhere, or at least heard him. He yelled for me to keep my head up, I tried to comply. 8:00.43 Back in the shade, but I am tired. Stop to walk a few times- at this point, what does it matter? Maybe Kate will catch me and I can run with her, despite her efforts to avoid ever running with me. (she ended up running 2:52, a 10 minute PR) I stop for a while, then I see Pat Hughes run by. Maybe I should try to run in with him! I start to run after him, for five seconds. Then I stop again. Aw, screw it!! I keep jogging, though. Let's finish this abortion of a race. 1:31.70 Yeah, that's over. Thank God...

As I walked around, trying to keep my legs from seizing, I analyzed everything, the wrong way as it turned out. I had run almost a minute faster two years ago at Marine Corps, in trainers, starting in the back of the pack and forced to run 7:49s the first few miles. Without the long runs, without the 100+ mile weeks, without the workouts that I did this summer. Was I that colossal of a failure that with all of this marathon training, I still wasn't good enough? I was embarrassed that the neophyte marathoner that I was two years ago outperformed the seasoned distance runner I had become. Even though my memory is unusually sharp, I could barely remember most of the last three hours. Granted, I have recounted it here, but what I have written was just a sliver of what happened. I don't remember when exactly I saw Madeline and Javed. I saw Billy and Christiam a few times. I don't know why I didn't just slow down to a crawl, totally recover and try to still run under 2:35. Because I wasn't in my right mind. I thought I could just run harder and drop time when something was affecting me negatively.

But I knew I was better than that. What about that mountain run? What about the ease with which I had run some of my long runs?

So, what happened? Did I go out too fast? No, I don't think I did. The entire time I was averaging 5:40-high between miles for and 12, I ran completely within myself. Mike Cotterell, who ran a great race for a 10 minute PR, said it plainly to me on the walk to meet up with everyone else "You aren't a hot weather runner." Evidently it was 67? degrees at the start, and most of the first half was in the shade. It was 74 degrees by the time I hit 21 miles and most of the rest of the race was in the sun. It wasn't oppressively hot, but it was much warmer than I would prefer to be running anything longer than 10k. It snuck up on me, and before I knew it, it kicked me to the ground. Now it was after the race, and I was wandering, still sweating, and I came across a fountain. When I tried to jump in, two volunteers told me it was a bad idea, and I asked for directions to Lake Michigan. On my way there, Molz called, so I sat down to take it and looked ahead, right into the eyes of Timothy James Caramore, watching the race with his lovely new wife Elizabeth. It had been two years since I had seen TC Booyeah, so it was a pleasure to catch up. Eventually, Molz and Garrett found us, and we had a nice little reunion.

Men of the Spider track team

Should I have dropped out at 21, when I started losing my mind? Probably. Once I sat down in the street -- definitely. I don't think I hurt myself, though. I came the closest when I tried to run with Hughes after a dead stop toward the end. My feet were cramped like crazy and I had bad blood blisters on two toes, but nothing terrible. The mental kick in the balls, though, from suffering through the last few miles was pretty severe.

I caught up with Pokey, who was also disappointed with his time, but to be honest, the way his legs were feeling a few weeks ago it was great just for him to be able to run. And he's over the hump of his first marathon. I never saw Eric Anish, but he ran 2:42 I think. Murphy was happy enough with his time. Reaves wasn't, nor were Bain, Sloane and Shannon. Dickson and Ernst dropped out after 21. Laura gave up, Katie Jarocki blew up, Kylee almost caught up. Jess Gangjee almost didn't make it to the finish. Medical assistants had to walk her in before she pushed them away to run her last 100 meters, but when they put the medal around her neck, she passed out and spent the next four hours in the medial tent with a 102 degree temperature.

My unnamed rival ran pretty well. I was bummed to have not even realized he was in the race.

Anne-Marie Alderson had the biggest race- a 33 minute PR, after finishing an Ironman six weeks prior.

While having lunch with Bethany and Pokey a few hours afterward, I think Pokey suggested, "why not do another one?" Then I realized, I would be in DC for the Marine Corps Marathon. The weather has been great the last two years. What's to lose? Besides my confidence? I decided then that I would give it another shot in 21 days. I took a five mile jog around Hyde Park Monday morning and a one mile sprint through the Detroit Airport to catch my connecting flight home and then started organizing people to cheer and support me around the Marine Corps Course. Then I got a great message from Howard Nippert.

It wasn't a phone call, but he looks like a badass in this picture.

Listen up, Boy.
You had a great first part of Chicago.
I was hoping you would get back on the horse and race soon, but not too soon.
I can tell you right now that you impressed me, not only convincing me that you're in the best shape I've seen you in (of course I wasn't around you guys all the time) since I've known you, but your confidence was at an all-time high. It took a bucket of balls to jump out and lead the Alumni race and make those guys come get you. Now, take that preparation and confidence, temper it with a little taste of knowledge and experience, and perhaps a better idea of what you're capable of in terms of finish time and run a smart, calculated, properly executed race.
You went all the way this weekend, so realize that there isn't going to be much training this week or even in a week or two going into MCM. You've got 2 weeks and a taste and most of that should be recovery and some stuff to shake the doo-doo from your legs. Don't tap into your muscles as they try to recover with a long run or a long interval workout. Keep things short until next weekend if you want to do something a taste longer, but not long.
The big mistake you can make that can screw the pooch is to think you can add more training between now and then. A marathon that goes "bad" takes longer to recover from than one that goes "good" because you finished and ran it the hard way. The second half takes way more out of you when it lasts 20 minutes longer and you don't back out.
Just my 2 cents.
Keep the faith, son. You're in great shape. Keep the fitness up with little short things for staying sharp that won't tap into you while you try to recover. Keep your confidence up as you go because the training hasn't gone anywhere. You're still as fit today as you were last week and you'll be as fit in 3 weeks as you were heading into last week.
Be smart and don't be scared and try to "make up" for something that was lacking (because it doesn't seem anything was) going into Chicago.
HO

Great advice.

So, I'm ready to go. Five days later, I am feeling like I'm 95%, but true to Howard's advice I'm keeping it easy. I'm talking to Steve about some specific workouts to keep myself primed for Marine Corps later today. I'll get in a nice easy run with some GRC guys tomorrow and start in earnest to redeem myself.

I took Tuesday off, and ran a very easy 6 miles Wednesday around the Mall with Melissa. Thursday, I ran my typical Hains Point loop for 9.55, and today I will run around Falls Church until I feel I've had enough.