johnsjar

This is a quick post and will be edited over the next week on my blog to correct spelling, grammar and omissions, and to add pictures. Short Story: I completed my first ever marathon Sunday. Chip time was 5:54:26. The fastest runner ran his second half only 40 seconds slower than his first half! That’s amazing! He did it in 2:35:27. The slowest finisher ran it in 7:35:53 which is also amazing given the courage he had to stick it out in that heat! It is also interesting to look at the statistics as to what % of people run in times of 2:30, 3:30, etc.

As for me, I got up at 4 AM and drank two cups of coffee. I had one power bar and two whole grain toast with almond butter. This breakfast has worked very well for me in the past and it worked well for this race too.

I had prepared everything the previous evening. I laid out everything I would need, running clothes, shoes, hydration pack, electrolyte tablets, etc. I decided to run exactly the same way I did in training with exactly the same equipment. I have a hydration pack which holds a nominal 2 liters but I can squeeze in a little more than that. I mix up powdered orange Gatorade. I remove the bladder from the hydration pack. I put exactly one half liter of Gatorade in the bladder. Then I seal it and blow air into the bladder so that it is as round as it gets when full. Then I lay it in the freezer so that the Gatorade freezes solid. I lay it in horizontally in the freezer so that when it freezes, the frozen Gatorade does not block either the fill opening, nor the outlet to the bite valve. In the morning I fill it up full (for a total of about 2.25 liters) and place the bladder back into the hydration pack. This keeps not only the liquid icy cold, but also it keeps my back cool too! By the time it has all melted the race is over. When I am running it is a happy coincidence that the warmish liquid in the relatively uninsulated tube leading to the bite valve contains just enough fluid to let me know how much to drink. I mean to say that I drink about every two kilometers and when I’ve sipped enough liquid to draw out a couple of sips of the really icy stuff it is just the right amount.

Anyway, the race was very well organized from the point of view of a beginner like me. There were 348 runners in the marathon itself but many hundreds more during the two day event in various distance categories. This is the biggest event I’ve ever entered so I was kind of like a country bumpkin in a way. They had lots of hydration stations and even a misting tent at the end where you could walk under and get cooled off. They had a lot of other stuff, but I did not explore any of it, I did not even take part in any food after the race. I just went home.

So, after breakfast I had Marilyn install some moleskin on the two Achilles tendon blisters I so foolishly got when I did a bit of shoveling in the garden a day or two before. I had not worn any socks in my shoes and sand got between my heel cup and my Achilles tendons and created nasty open blisters. By the time I realized that it was too late. So I hoped the moleskin would do the trick and it did. That was lucky.

When I got to the race I felt strangely calm. I got into line at the back before the 7 AM start. I found a pace bunny (Rita) who would pace the group who just wanted to finish in about 6 hours. The race started and I kept up with the pace bunny group for a while. I know my pace however and I started to get concerned and express some self-doubts at my ability to finish the race when I noticed at the two kilometer mark that the elapsed time was just under thirteen minutes. We were running just about a 7:00 pace to start out with, over a minute faster than I wanted to start with. Not good. The pace group left me behind for another few km then I passed them on the downhill, then they passed me again. At that point I tried very much to focus on running my own race and succeeded to a certain extent.

Now I eventually I managed to run for a while with the pace group and they were all very nice people whose names except for two I do not remember. There was one bandit with us who was doing a 30 km training run. The pace bunny was Rita and I gave her my email address because we discovered we both wanted to train for the Grande Cache Death Race in the year 2010. I hope she emails me with her address. I also met Bob, who was part of her Running Room training group and brother to her husband I think. The details are a bit fuzzy, like my head.

At the turn around point we were about 6 or 7 minutes ahead of an 8 minute pace but that evaporated to around 3 minutes ahead by km 27. The reason was that everyone was getting tired, but for me, my knees, especially my left knee was threatening to swell up. Once it swells up to a certain point there is no turning back and I would be finished, a cripple. So it was a major concern by km 27. Remarkably, an interesting solution presented itself possibly by accident, I don’t remember. Since I was self-sufficient, I did not need refreshment at the aid stations but I got into the habit of pouring a cup or two of icy cold water directly onto my knees and that helped a lot to keep the swelling down and allow me to proceed cautiously. It turned out to be the main reason I was able to finish.

But: Water in your running shoes = bad. Very bad. Water on your knees = good. Very Good. But I was careless about it and a lot of water ended up running into my shoe. So, my blisters and calluses opened up and caused me a lot of grief AFTER the run not during. I must have just not been aware of what was going on in my shoes in the heat of battle. And it was hot, totally sunny and windy with a temperature of about 33 degrees C. I know, that’s nothing for the folks down in the deep south, but for me the heat is a big deal. There were a number of times that friendly folk offered to hose us down as we passed their lawns with their garden hoses and I always asked that my knees be given a good cool down. It worked.

I was honored to be greeted and cheered on by my friends, my wife Marilyn, and my insanely lovely daughter Morgan. A big thanks to them.

I had one incident, that caused me to email Mary D off list to express my concern about Terry, because I was thinking about Terry when it happened. Here is the email I sent her with my story about almost becoming road kill:

Mary,
I have been reading this saga and hoping against hope that the best comes out of the worse. I feel for you and yours and Terry though I do not know him. I hope you can somehow give him a word of encouragement and that now many will probably look up to him to learn how to handle a crisis in their own lives using the same courage he has displayed. In this way, whether he likes it or not, he has become a role model of grit and courage and maturity.

I was going to remain silent except for an incident that happened to me as I ran my first marathon yesterday. I was running down a busy road in downtown Edmonton around the 36 km mark. The lane had been closed with many traffic cones for the exclusive use of the marathoners. Occasionally runners would be surprised by a pair of motorcycle policemen patrolling in our lanes. It is disconcerting because in the hot wind and heat of battle, we could not hear them approach from behind and were often startled by them suddenly whizzing past us. It would have taken just a minor stumble at the wrong time to get hit by one of them. But that is not the incident I want to relate.

I was running pretty much solo when suddenly I heard the now familiar whine of a vehicle coming from behind. Thinking it was another motorcycle cop, I turned my head to look and was shocked to see an old man in a convertible speed past me as if he did not even know I was there. Of course he was driving in the closed runners lane and missed running me over by just two feet. I looked directly at him as he whizzed by and saw zero sign from him that he even saw me. If I had stumbled or weaved a bit I would now be road kill. The foot cops guarding an intersection several hundred meters down the road stopped him (too far for them to have seen him almost snuff me). I don’t know what transpired between him and the cops but they directed him into the proper lane. By the time I ran up to them I felt there was no point mentioning anything.

I blame the driver for not looking and paying attention, but I don’t blame him for making a mistake by driving in the wrong lane. Traffic cones are everywhere in the city due to massive construction projects.

I guess the moral of THIS story is that one should try to stay alert at all times. Traffic signs are designed to keep you safe, but even they can’t protect you from careless drivers…

Around the 37 km mark, I developed a severe side stitch in my right side. And I was getting pretty crippled. But I managed to make it in. So that is pretty much the story of my first marathon. At the end of it, after I crossed the finish line, I remember feeling absolutely nothing. I met my friends, handed over my pack and stepped into the misting showers for a few seconds, then sat down with them and chatted for a while. There was no feeling of accomplishment, no feelings at all. I was asked if I would ever do it again and without hesitation I said absolutely. In hindsight, it seems pretty weird. But now I am feeling it a lot more and I am very happy with the whole race. I did good and I am proud of it. But I could do better and I can hardly wait for my next marathon.

In terms of my performance, it was pretty good considering I am 55 and a half years old and 30 pounds overweight. I think I could do much better and have less stress on my knees and joints if I could lose that extra baggage. Someone told me that over the course of a marathon, each extra five pounds you carry adds 15 minutes to your time. I don’t know if that is true but I do know that my joints would certainly be relieved to lose that extra 25 or 30 pounds. And so I promised myself to not even consider doing another marathon before I lost at least ten pounds.

My number one priority now is to lose some weight. Other short terms goals now are to recover from this marathon, then continue to run about 30 or so km per week with a maximum of 11 km long run. There is a half marathon in Devon October 14th I really want to run. Between now and then we are driving to San Diego and slowly working our way up the coast to visit my daughter and to check out the wine country on a much needed break from work.

And that’s my story.