Two People and the People's Marathon

The blog below offers Stephanie and my separate observations of the our most recent accomplishment, finishing the 36th Annual Marine Corps Marathon. 

Pre-race

S: I stopped checking Weather.com on Saturday when it told me that it would feel like mid-20s at the start. I decided I was better off not knowing what awaited me. After a metro ride, a line for the world's shortest bus ride, and a security checkpoint, we ended up huddled under a tent in the Pentagon parking lot. I was wearing a headband over my ears, gloves, a tank top, a throw-away t-shirt, arm warmers, running shorts, sweat pants, a throw-away sweatshirt, and a fleece sweatshirt, and still muscles I did not know I had were shaking in the cold.  This didn’t give me a good feeling about the pace my body would hold.

During the very mild winters in Sacramento, I move at near crawling pace for the first two miles of any run.  My original goal for Marine Corps was to try to hold 8:45 per mile pace (this translates to a finish time under 3:50) for as long as possible with the real goal being to finish under 4 hours (9:10 pace). My first marathon led me to believe that fading in the last 6 miles was inevitable. I don’t run the kind of mileage that I should, and even sub 4 hours would have been a 10 minute PR. My challenge to myself was to stay tough and keep fighting as long as I could. All week I had been making a mental list of things to focus on when the miles got hard: (1) my grandfather, who is no longer with us but remains a source of inspiration, (2) my grandmother who is probably the toughest person I will ever meet, (3) my dad’s annoying “just one more” mantra, (4) Kyle and how I would want him to keep working in the same situation, (5) how I was able to sustain my pace during some tough training runs, and (6) my friends and family back home.  

K: My mind, dependent on a particular method, would have likely spent the hours before the race fretting over my less than methodical body. Luckily, I suppose, I had the freezing temperatures to preoccupy me. Beneath my Fleet Feet Racing tracksuit I wore my racing singlet, tube sock arm warmers, throw-away t-shirt, and a Marine Corps Marathon mock turtle neck. I also wore my neoprene gloves and a neon green throw-away beanie. 

I could see stars, so I knew the sun would eventually show itself. But I wasn't certain how long it would take to warm me up. The most comfortable I felt outside all morning was bunched in the security checkpoint lines. This is ironic now, since later I would be running in a race boasting tens of thousands of entrants and wouldn't have any sort of proximity to a bunched group outside the starting line.

Once Stephanie and I checked our bags, I darted in and out of the throng toward what I assumed would be the starting line. I considered this a warm-up, and actually ended up running about three quarters of a mile. Once I reached my corral--right behind the start line and the elite corral, I had plenty of time to stretch, stride, and move about. I found Erin, a Fleet Feet employee, just as they collapsed the first two corrals and moved us in together toward the start line, where I was about two rows back. I ditched the t-shirt, and waited for Drew Carey to fire the start gun.

Mile 1 

S: (8:40)  My watched beeped well before the first mile marker, so the first mile was definitely slower than this.  In general, my watch measured the course a little long, so take my mile times with a grain of salt.  Mile 1 has some uphill portions, but I was surprised by how quickly I got up to pace.  It was much less crowded than CIM, despite the extra 13,000 runners.

K: (6:43) I had no idea where we were headed. I started to recognize elements of Rosslyn, where our hotel was located, and seeing elements from the previous days. I didn't really anticipate the first hill on the Lee Highway, which made the hard left pretty tough. The first runners already darted off the street to use johns.

 

Mile 2 

S: (9:37) I knew there was another hill coming but when I saw the size of it I practically groaned.  My plan had been to run with even effort and not waste energy on the early hills.  I’m a good hill runner, but I have a tendency to charge up them to the detriment of the rest of my race.  Apparently, I jogged up this hill.  I wasn’t happy when I saw how much time I bled. 

K: (6:45) Coming up toward the two-mile marker, my cluster started passing a number of chair racers, especially those cranking with their arms. There were some chain issues, some weather issues, and some just showed fatigue. It was clearly going to be a struggle for some of them all day.

Mile 3 

S: (9:25) The uphill continued onto the third mile.  I had already conceded that I wasn’t going to hit 3:50, but I realized I needed to step it up to break 4 hours. I had a pace band that had the paces for each mile to break 4 hours, and I wasn’t on it. I was, however, warming up.  I started the race still wearing the headband ear warmer, gloves, throw-away t-shirt, and arm warmers, but by the top of the hill, I had ditched all of my extra layers and was down to my tank top and running shorts. Somewhere around here I passed a guy wearing a full shark costume.

K: (6:36) Before mile three we turned at a CVS pharmacy, I remember. There was a woman running on my side whose son cheered as he watched his mother competing for the first time. I recall congratulating her before cutting the tangent and heading down hill on Lorcom Ln. The sun was starting to assert itself a bit, and the creek and foliage looked beautiful in the autumn dawn.

Mile 4 

S: (8:14) This mile had a nice downhill which I love.  I can really let go and fly and it doesn’t bother my quads at all.  How fast and easy this mile was made me realize I was silly to go so easy up the hills when I was going to rest soon on the downhills.

K: (6:16) The downhill helps explain this split, but just before the four-mile marker we climbed a hill and crossed an old bridge off the George Washington Memorial Pkwy. The line of runners was noteworthy, but the spectators hadn’t made it out in full force yet. I say this because the bridge was frozen, and no one really knew it until their strides started sliding around. After the small bridge, we rejoined the main road and crossed the Potomac into Georgetown. 

Mile 5 

S: (8:51)  This mile went uphill a bit.  I passed a man who was running with a prosthetic leg and added that to my reasons not to complain.  I wanted to say something to him, but couldn’t think of anything good enough.  Throughout the race, there was a lot of passing and being passed by wheelchairs, which was a big production.  On the uphills, they were stuck or cranking at a crawl.  I felt bad for them.  On the rest of the course, people would yell for the runners to move to the left or the right as the wheelchairs passed.  It got confusing whether they were saying to move to the left or the wheelchair was on the left.  I took my first gel here.  I was trying to fuel better than in my first marathon by fueling early and often.  I took Gatorade at every water station before the first gel and water at every aid station after that.  I even drank some water and ate some Jelly Belly sport beans at the start line.

K: (6:27) Leveled out on Canal Rd. and passed a few groups. I ran with three or four in a pack, losing one to the pit stop in the high grass on the side of the road. Saw my first non-marathon, casual joggers along the river and thought their decision to run was a bad idea (although I didn’t have the same feelings about my own). Pace was regulated, and I was satisfied but a long way from relaxed

Mile 6 

S: (8:34)  This mile was a nice, slow descent.  This was the part of the course when I started thinking that I liked the course because it seemed to have more downs than ups.  I know that’s actually not true, but once I was over the early hills, it felt easier.  This was also one of my favorite parts of the course because there is a stretch where you can see the runners ahead of you coming down a steep hill on the right.  I looked forward to running down it.  We saw the wheelchairs and then a car with a clock on it and then the lead runners.  It was exciting to see how fast those guys were running and how good they looked doing it.  We all clapped as they passed even though we were running, too.  I moved over to the right shoulder in the hope that I could see Kyle if he came down the hill.  Alas, I only saw about the first 10 runners.

K: (6:33) Between 5-6 I caught my first glimpse of chair racers coming down the hill. No lead pack, so I was still making decent time, though I didn’t know how far away from that downhill I was at the time.

Mile 7 

S: (9:01) There is another set of hills going up mile 7.  I had learned my lesson and pushed up them slightly.  I passed a guy running completely barefoot.  No Vibram FiveFingers – just barefoot.  In light of the icy bridge we had already passed, I didn’t think this was a good idea.

K: (6:43) Doubled back and headed up toward the reservoir in Georgetown. A pretty sizeable hill. Passed more chair racers and ran directly into the sun, partly blinded. Topped out and fetched my first fuel, which I’d trapped in my watch, since I knew I’d have water again at 7.

Mile 8 

S: (8:44) I was a bit disappointed when we hit the downhill.  It was so steep no one around me was running at the right pace.  As a result, I had to slow down and dodge people, and didn’t get to take advantage of the steep descent.  Instead, it was like hitting the breaks.  Yuck.

K: (6:20)  The pace here speaks for itself. I was coming downhill through the suburbs. The cheering picked up here in Georgetown. I passed a team surrounding a blind runner. Very amicable, very supportive guys all around. Lots of chatter about who was stationed where.

Mile 9 

S: (8:34) I took my second gel and enjoyed running through the crowds in Georgetown.  

K: (6:17) I didn’t really slow off the downhill when leveling off into the central district through Georgetown. The town was a blast. The streets were caked with people and signs and noise. Turned right toward the Potomac and caught another downhill with a sweet view. Beautiful spot, until we were suddenly socked in under a raised freeway.

Miles 10 - 13

S: (8:57) Sara told me she would be waiting before the 10 mile marker.  As we approached, the street was lined on both sides with people and her puffy white jacket wasn’t as unique as we thought it would be.  I worried I would miss her, but ended up finding her and Andrew easily.  I was happy to see friendly faces.

 

(8:35) When I saw this split I told myself I was crazy and to remember that I had 15 miles left. Perhaps my body didn’t understand what it was in for?  In retrospect, I think this was when I found my grove.

(8:39) There were a few times when there was a break in the crowd and I felt how cold the wind was.  It occurred to me that Kyle might be having a different experience out in front.  The brutal cold was apparently the perfect temperature for me.  It was keeping me from being hot.  Only afterwards did I realize how much running in a crowd had saved me from the wind.

(8:40) The gel I took here came straight from the gel station.  It was awesome.  Marines were lined up holding boxes and shouting flavors.  In general, they ran the aid stations with the expected military precession, but the gel station was particularly impressive.  I didn’t hear the guy who yelled “raspberry” in time to get over and that is my favorite flavor.  I hate chocolate and mocha so I gave those marines the cold shoulder.  I was happy with vanilla.

K: 

(6:23, 6:32, 6:30, 6:36)

This blurs together in my mind. It was a pretty straight shot down an island in the Potomac. Pace didn’t waver much after Georgetown. We ran through park settings, some of which were clogged with people, and others that were desolate and empty. According to my map, I missed the view of the Lincoln Memorial here. My first conversation of the race was over one band’s stellar rendition of STP’s “Vaseline.” I crossed the mat at 13.1 at 1:25, nearly better than the PR I tried so hard to beat for the first 6 months of the year. I finally ditched my tube sock arm warmers here, though I probably could have gone longer.  

Mile 14 - 16

S:

(8:54, 8:36, 8:50): Somewhere around here I stopped checking my pace band at every mile.  It was also now loud enough that I couldn’t always hear my watch beep.  I was minutes ahead of my goal and my splits had been good, so I just went with the flow.  I also decided that because I was feeling so good, Kyle was surely feeling good, too.  I was sure he would smash his old time and I looked forward to conferring with him after his race.

K: (6:28) I planned to fuel again at 14, but I needed water to wash down the gel. This might have been another mistake, since there wasn’t any aid station on the horizon. I had the Gu open in my hand, but continued to hold off. I wasn’t desperate, but I wanted to follow a regimen, at least.  

(6:35) I realized I’d made a judgment error, so I started taking little plugs from the Gu and doing my best to digest them without water. I caught a quick sight of the new MLK Memorial here, which was enormous. 

 

(6:34) I finally got my water at mile 16, and charged through the rest of the Gu. There was a little turn around here, and spectators bounced back and forth across the median in order to get two viewings of the runners. Given the gaps in the faster pack, I actually had to dodge a few fans. After the water station, I lost sight of the person in front of me and had to ask a Marine if the route turned.

 

Mile 17 

S: (8:39) At CIM last year, this is where the wheels came off.  I wanted to get as far past this point feeling OK as possible, and I was pleased to still feel good.  I took another gel.

K: (6:24)  Just past 17, you go through something called the MCM Gauntlet, but I don’t recall of what it consisted. Maybe it was just a bunch of Marines? On the map, this section of the course is so phallic it’s not even funny. Seriously. Maybe that’s where it got its name? Anyway, I hit another water station, and tried to add crushed electrolyte tabs I’d packed in my Spi belt to a cup of water. The cup spilled, and the tab wouldn’t dissolve, so I had a sip and then a bite of the tab. The taste was bitter, and the plan was ill conceived.

Mile 18 

S: (8:42) The mall was chaotic in a good way.  I think this was about where I saw Sara and Andrew again.  There was so much going on that I’m not even sure exactly where I was at that point.  It was a blur of bands, people on both sides of the street screaming, and landmarks.  Not to mention the surreal feeling of realizing I was deep into the race and still feeling good.  Once I found them, even though she said she might try to see me again, I stopped looking for them because it was so crowded and scanning the crowd was taking a lot of effort.

K: (6:26) I still felt good at this point, and was optimistic about finally cutting the remaining miles to single digits. I emerged from a tree-lined street and caught a beautiful view of the Capitol Building, front and center, just as my watch hit 2 hours. 

Mile 19 

S: (8:31) I grabbed some sport beans from that station, and we did a circle in front of the Capitol. One odd thing about me is that despite how many years I have been running, I’ve never chaffed.  Ever. Before long runs, I put body glide in certain spots just because it seems like the thing to do.  At this point in the marathon, I realized the streak was broken. Underneath my arms stung a bit.  I was chaffing for the first time ever.  It didn’t hurt badly, so it was easy to ignore.  I blame the cold, but overall that it was funny to realize, “oh, so this is what chaffing is.”

K: (6:30) Just before 19, I had chance to rectify the electrolyte debacle with the Jelly Belly fuel station. I struggled to open the package with gloves, without gloves and cold hands, and in my teeth. It was so frustrating I even laughed aloud, prompting the guy next to me to look over.  
 

Mile 20 

S: (8:43) There’s a bridge around the 20 mile marker that I barely registered at the time. Batala Washington, Inc., an all-women percussion group was playing before the bridge, and I loved them.  I’m a big fan of any sort of drum line.  (Earlier, I also enjoyed the ‘90s alt rock covers that Kyle had.)  It made this stretch of the race a lot of fun and any incline on the bridge unnoticeable. 

K: (6:42) Hit another water station and opted for Gatorade because of the concern over electrolytes. I finally tore into the beans—though I lost three—and once I got them in my mouth realized they were pretty well frozen, which made for a tough chew. A hard left just past the Smithsonian, and we were heading toward the water again. 

Mile 21 

S: (8:31) When I passed the 20 mile marker, I remembered that one of Kyle’s teammates said to go all out from here on in.  I didn’t know how to translate that into the right level of effort, particularly because I still thought I might start to fade soon.  Nonetheless, I did start picking it up.  It occurred to me that Kyle was finished.  I had my final gel and the shark came back on me.  I was impressed, but then I realized that you must be a strong runner to think you can run a marathon in a shark costume.  This part of the course was a little strange because you are running on a freeway, which has some hills to it.  There were people stopping on the median to stretch their calves.  It pains me to see this happen to people.  I can’t imagine having to restart with so much distance to go.  I almost broke my streak of not seeing anyone throw-up, but luckily looked away in time.  My legs were definitely feeling the effects of having run for so long, but it was surreal how well I felt and how I was now dodging the slowing runners around me.  I was pretty certain I would break 4 hours at this point, and I was really happy about it.

K: (6:42) I finally ditched the free CIM beanie here, but mostly because I wanted some pictures in the last stretch without a neon orb on my head. A man on a bike, who I’m told was a one time Fleet Feet racer, caught me just after mile 20 and said, “Make Chad (my coach) proud.” The map calls this Beat the Bridge, but the only challenge seems to be the desolation. It’s a long bridge, yes, and it’s on a freeway, but there’s nothing out there to beat except your brain.  I opened another Gu just across the bridge, still operating under the 7-14-21 plan despite the fact that I just had my last packet at 16. Again, I made an error, and didn’t see water until 22. Again, I took small nips from the packet in hopes that I could do some damage control in the process.

Mile 22 

S: (8:45) In general, I would say that the aid stations were really good for such a crowded race.  I had to change my pace a bit and dart in to get a drink, but it wasn’t bad.  The exception was the water station before mile 22.  It was located on the outside of a turn and I went to the inside before seeing it. I had to make an abrupt change of direction to get water and slowed down a lot in the process.  It was a lot of chaos for that point in the race.

K: (6:42) Crystal City is perhaps the bane of my MCM experience. It was the kind of stretch that’s packed on purely for mileage. It’s urban, it’s odd, and it’s unfriendly. Runners pass you on the right, and you keep waiting and waiting to make the loop and join them. Once you see the spot, you can’t believe your eyes. It was about the size of a hotel valet loop, and it was surfaced in brick.

 

Mile 23 

S: (8:32) I had the sport beans I had been saving.  A few beans flew out of the package as I opened it, and I realized jelly beans are a silly thing to eat while moving. I wasn’t a fan of the Crystal City out and back, but was thankful there was at least some crowd noise.

K: (6:42) Despite hating this stretch, I maintaed steady 6:42s here, which might look like some sort of regulating. Unfortunately, it’s really just the precursor to the breakdown. I passed Erin on her way out, and she complimented my race. I thanked her, but thought she’d probably catch me. I made a few turns and felt serious fatigue. One or two passed me here, albeit slowly, and I complemented them as best I could. I was offered Dunkin’ Donut samples by a very pushy volunteer just before the 24-mile marker, and turned her down. In retrospect, I wonder if it would have helped?

Mile 24 - 25

S: (8:49, 8:29) It started to dawn on me here that I was approaching 3:50 pace.  I didn’t think I could break it, but it was going to be close.  It was strange to reconsider something I had given up on at mile 2.  Another weird aspect of running on freeways towards the end was running down a very twisty offramp.  

K: (6:54)  Two Gatorade cups here at this aid station. I remember reaching for anything that I thought might sustain me for two more miles. I kept thinking it would only take 14 minutes if I could keep it under 7s.

(7:22) I passed the Pentagon and cursed a bit, wondering how a location I had to take a train to could be so close to the finish line, the station from which I took the train in the first place. I caught some more Gatorade at an aid station near the start line, now strewn in shed clothing. I kept checking my pace as I felt myself slowing, and noted that I was close, really, really, really close. I recall imaging that I looked like a slow motion recording—either that or someone dragging around a wagon full of lead.

Mile 26

S: (8:14) I ignored the last water station because I figured it wouldn’t make any difference and it was better to get the faster time.  Since my watch was off from the course, I couldn’t calculate exactly how fast I needed to run the last mile in order to break 3:50 or if it was even possible.  My gut told me it just barely wasn’t possible.  I also didn’t know how to race the last mile.  MCM ends on an uphill I had never seen.  It would be dangerous to redline before that and then have to charge up the hill.  I was also really happy about what my time was going to be regardless.  I never thought I could come so close to 3:50.  I knew the wheels weren’t going to fall off and I would run in strong.  During this mile, I also realized I had not thought of any of the things I intended to think of when it went bad, because it never went bad.  I was so happy.  I was also dodging even more runners and it was getting harder to dodge some of them because our speeds were so different.  It was a good thing I was not going all out.

K: (8:09) My watched logged the 26^th mile before the map shows it—which is at a distinct left turn—and given the severity of my fatigue, I was pissed. Much of what I recall is a haze. I watched my shadow, now and what I assume is crawling speed, as I inched through an area that looked like bizarro-wasteland version of the start line. I was only passed by one or two folks, since at this point most that weren't breaking down nabbed me back near the Pentagon and the Key Bridge.

Mile 26.2 

S: (8:22 pace) As the 26th mile approached, I kept looking for the hill because I knew it would signal the end.  It was strange how not seeing it made me frustrated.  When I finally saw it, I was taken aback by how long and steep it was.  I had been feeling good, but as soon as I started charging up the hill, I felt instantly much worse.  I still finished strong in 3:50:13.  I was so happy with how good I felt, but I realized that my slow first miles and lack of aggression at the end cost me a sub 3:50 finish. As often is the case, I was faster than I gave myself credit for.  

K: (8:06 pace) Two men were walking (though they both started back up), and once I made the turn toward the final hill (yes!) and the Iwo Jima Marine Corps Memorial, I was at a crawl. My watch was over 26.2, my legs were done, and I slowed to a wobbly walk to climb the hill. It was one of those Disney movie moments where the crowd feels pity and starts to will you on, so I started running, only to slow and stop again. Near the top, I picked it up, and crossed to a somewhat lackluster closing. There seemed to be some setup still going on, and I don’t eve recall my name being said. I stopped my watch, and realized how really ugly the end had become. I was on pace for another 8:10 mile. It also indicates that the MCM course ran long, a fact that was confirmed by at least three other watches in our group and a number of suspicious runners at the finis.

Post-Race 

S: The finish was well-organized.  You had to walk a bit, but I think it prevented me from getting too sore later.  I also liked that they handed you all the food and drink you could want instead of you wandering around into different lines.  I’m not good at thinking and finding lines after a marathon.  CIM made me overwhelmed.  It was a long walk back to Kyle and I started to get anxious wondering how he did.  I was so excited when I saw him and his teammate Brian sitting on a curb by the UPS trucks.  I was so sure he had broken 3 hours and really happy for him when I heard he had.  I chomped on my post-race food as we waited for Sara and Andrew to show-up and then Dan shortly after.  I was so proud of Dan for finishing his first marathon.  Particularly after I saw his bloody shoe.  

It was so nice to feel good after a marathon.  Before I ran my first marathon, I had always thought that longer distances (and ultimately the marathon) were my strength, but the way I felt after CIM erased that belief.  Marine Corps made me think of myself as a marathoner again.  All in all, I thought this was a great race.  I loved the crowds and the course would definitely run Marine Corps sometime in the future.

K: I don't recall how I knew where to go, but after the finisher photo and a meandering pathway through stacked boxes and Gatorade sports bottles, I trekked nearly ½ mile down toward Rosslyn. I remember being extremely happy to be wrapped in my finisher foil. It cut the wind and, when hit by the sun, immediately warmed me. I found my assigned UPS truck at the bottom of a long, sloping hill, and tried to get into something warmer. My hands felt like blocks, and when I opted to kick my shoes off, I struggled to do so without allowing my calves to seize. It was a battle. I fought my compression socks for nearly 20 minutes, and count finally getting them on as the second major accomplishment of the morning. I found a street corner in the sun, transferred the wrap to my legs, and starting sifting through social media updates to see how far out Stephanie, Brian, and Dan were. We had planned to meet in the link-up corrals, but it wasn't necessary given the surprising ease with which I found them all coming down the street.

Other than the fact that the finish provided plenty of time to brood over the final miles, I was damn happy with the result. The sub-three time had, at one stage in the training, seemed like a pipe dream. I consider my myself lucky to have done so well for 24 miles, no matter what 25 and 26 and .2-ish ended up looking like.  

For more, check out Sara's video coverage of the event: