Race strategy
Yes, I finished the BSIM last year. As I told my wife, I ran a great half marathon in that race, the second half was a nightmare of walking and slow, shuffling that barely passed for running. This year I want to run the whole thing (I know, I worked with Ken Ottmar's story in Saturday's Herald about there being no shame in walking,and agree there is no shame there, but I want to run). To accomplish that this year, I have run further and taken on many more hills in my training. I feel a lot stronger than last year. If I have a regret, it was that I didn't lose weight during this time and I worry about carrying 220 pounds over 26.2 miles (I weighed about 210 last year). Oh well, too late now.
Mentally, I'm dividing the race into parts. The first 10 miles will be the most enjoyable. It's down hill and, of course, the energy of all the participants pulls you along (often faster than it should). The keywords for me here: patience and relaxation. I know I'll be plenty fast enough, I just don't want to be too fast. And I know there will be traffic challenges, but I can't spend too much energy on those.
You know what comes around 10 miles. The key words getting up Hurricane Point: have faith and stay within yourself. A whole lot of training gives me the strength to make the climb, but I don't want to race up this hill. It can feel like you're moving like a slug up the hill as other runners fly by. I've got to remember that most of those runners are on relays and are fresh (the exchange zone is right at the base of the hill).
Down the hill, recovery and focus. It can beat the crap out of your toes and burn a whole lot of energy trying brake going down the back side of Hurricane, at least, that's what happened to me last year. On the advice of one of our running columnists, I've done a lot of practice running down hill, worked on not leaning back, on rolling my feet heel to toe through the hill (rather than that jabbing braking motion, leading toes first).
Another climb around Mile 15.This is where it ended for me last year, where I had to walk. This is focusing and remembering all the training I did, practicing taking on hills when I was tired. Reminding myself, it can feel better climbing then descending. A crucial spot in the marathon for me (if I could, this is where I'd put my son and daughter to be yelling, reminding me I can do this "Go Dad Go!")
The 20 mile mark. I hit that last year as I was being passed by a pair of women. "Look, we're just a 10K away," they shouted as an encouragement. ONLY a 10K? Not so long ago finishing a 10K was a major accomplishment for me (that, and, when I hit this point last year I must have been be semi-delirous, because I kept thinking a marathon was 24 miles long). I'll probably think about my boss through here, because there are times I want to give up and that's when she tells me something to the effect of, "we will do this, we have no choice." And I get mad at her, but I do it, blaming all the pain and anguish on her. And in the end I should thank her for challenging me, for making me better.
The last two miles or so. D-major hill at D-minor time. I will have come through the Highlands, remembering last year and the hug the guy gave me last year, and how I felt it was the spirit of my deceased father when he said, "everything is going to be all right." And I'll be thinking of him and my mother, who holds my hand and strokes my forehead and makes me feel strong. And as I crest the hill, I'll be thinking of my wife and how when things get tough we find ourselves running toward each other, funny (in a lovely way) how God made our love that way.
I realize now, having written this, what a strange and wonderful journey it is, this marathon thing. I think I'll try to run the whole thing, and yet, savoir the wide range of experiences at the same time. I'm hoping you do too. Say hi when you run past. Good luck, God bless you.
Mentally, I'm dividing the race into parts. The first 10 miles will be the most enjoyable. It's down hill and, of course, the energy of all the participants pulls you along (often faster than it should). The keywords for me here: patience and relaxation. I know I'll be plenty fast enough, I just don't want to be too fast. And I know there will be traffic challenges, but I can't spend too much energy on those.
You know what comes around 10 miles. The key words getting up Hurricane Point: have faith and stay within yourself. A whole lot of training gives me the strength to make the climb, but I don't want to race up this hill. It can feel like you're moving like a slug up the hill as other runners fly by. I've got to remember that most of those runners are on relays and are fresh (the exchange zone is right at the base of the hill).
Down the hill, recovery and focus. It can beat the crap out of your toes and burn a whole lot of energy trying brake going down the back side of Hurricane, at least, that's what happened to me last year. On the advice of one of our running columnists, I've done a lot of practice running down hill, worked on not leaning back, on rolling my feet heel to toe through the hill (rather than that jabbing braking motion, leading toes first).
Another climb around Mile 15.This is where it ended for me last year, where I had to walk. This is focusing and remembering all the training I did, practicing taking on hills when I was tired. Reminding myself, it can feel better climbing then descending. A crucial spot in the marathon for me (if I could, this is where I'd put my son and daughter to be yelling, reminding me I can do this "Go Dad Go!")
The 20 mile mark. I hit that last year as I was being passed by a pair of women. "Look, we're just a 10K away," they shouted as an encouragement. ONLY a 10K? Not so long ago finishing a 10K was a major accomplishment for me (that, and, when I hit this point last year I must have been be semi-delirous, because I kept thinking a marathon was 24 miles long). I'll probably think about my boss through here, because there are times I want to give up and that's when she tells me something to the effect of, "we will do this, we have no choice." And I get mad at her, but I do it, blaming all the pain and anguish on her. And in the end I should thank her for challenging me, for making me better.
The last two miles or so. D-major hill at D-minor time. I will have come through the Highlands, remembering last year and the hug the guy gave me last year, and how I felt it was the spirit of my deceased father when he said, "everything is going to be all right." And I'll be thinking of him and my mother, who holds my hand and strokes my forehead and makes me feel strong. And as I crest the hill, I'll be thinking of my wife and how when things get tough we find ourselves running toward each other, funny (in a lovely way) how God made our love that way.
I realize now, having written this, what a strange and wonderful journey it is, this marathon thing. I think I'll try to run the whole thing, and yet, savoir the wide range of experiences at the same time. I'm hoping you do too. Say hi when you run past. Good luck, God bless you.
posted by dave kellogg at 1:42 AM
1 Comments:
Hey Dave. You'll do it. I have no doubt. Just stay focused and determined. Have a great race.
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