AT&T Austin Marathon 2008 - Revitalized

”Something wonderful is about to happen to you.” Fortune Cookie from a week ago Monday 2/11/08.

There are many personal things I set out to do in this latest marathon, some of which I described loosely below. I’m not one to write down too many personal things for the world to read, but I think this could benefit others looking to rebuild in some type of endurance sport. Who knows, maybe it applies to other things as well.
My marathoning career so far has been less than stellar. I know dozens of people who would welcome the times I’ve posted in my marathons, but anyone who knows running, knows that it’s a relative sport. Fast to one person, isn’t necessarily fast to the person that posts the time. You set your own goals, and whether it is to run a sub 3 hour marathon, qualify for Boston or simply finish, you set your own personal goals.

You set your own goals… but train, gain and build as a team. Whether you train on your own all the time, or in a group setting, I firmly believe that you gain from a team, whether your team is a friend running next to you, or simply someone on the sideline, or an unknown runner that crosses your path on a trail.
This was never more pronounced than on Saturday morning when I went out to run my 3 or 4 mile leg-stretching run, to get the blood flowing and loosen up the day before the race. The weather was a pretty crappy (for Austin standards) 42 degrees, drizzly, dreary day. Normally, the hike and bike trail around the lake is overcrowded with weekend joggers, serious runners, dog walkers, cyclists and other types, but Saturday it was deserted at 10am. As I started my run, I felt a weird connection to the people I came upon. Almost everyone of these few runners would let out a small smirk, had a focused look in their eye, or was wearing past marathon race gear. We all knew why we were out there, and what lied ahead the following day. The interesting thing is, I did this run a year ago to the day. In 2007, it was a beautifully sunny day, and I was so emotional that I almost had tears in my eyes as I crossed other marathoners. But this year my goal was entirely different, and most of all, I know had 3 battle scars to show for and no longer a rookie.

After my Dallas marathon in December, I have never felt so low in my running career. I know it’s only been 2.5 years, but it’s been 2.5 years of hard training, and I honestly considered for a few days to take a long break from running, just get away, maybe even drop the sport all together.

It all started a year ago yesterday, when I pulled my body to the absolute edge of destruction, and still kept going for another 3 miles seeing 20 feet of tunnel vision, flirting with blackouts, and then came the dreaded full body “cramp down” that sent for 90 minutes to the finish line first aid tent. My time goal had been an obsession for the months prior to, and I can tell you that every single time I run past the North entry of the Capitol building, I think of that day in February of 2007, when it all slipped away from me 1,200 meters from the finish line. But it was my first marathon, and I was glad I finished, and I have looked at my finisher’s bib and my medal almost every day since.

I have a cork board in my office full of running maps (greenbelt), running macros (training schedules), pace charts, my medals dangling, and all my race bibs hanging off one nail one on top of the other. Then there’s the AT&T Austin Marathon 2007 bib, and Medal. Those two have a separate spot on that corkboard. The bib is on its own, the medal hanging next to it. For the few people who have seen the corkboard, surely the bib and medal represent a proud moment. Why would they not. But to me, they have never meant that. Sure, I’m proud to be part of the 0.25% of the population who has run a marathon, but that bib and medal represented Unfinished Business. Over time, I have sat at my computer and stared at those two things hundreds of times, reliving the "what-if's", re-strategizing, and planning how to finish what I set out to do.

Promptly after Austin’07, I knew I had to get my ass in gear, refocused and committed; so I signed up for Chicago along with Nedra and what we later would come to find out was a group 20 or so determined Austinites ready to kick some butt in October. I trained harder than I ever for that marathon. I ran the track workouts like I was possessed. I ran the long runs strong. I secured a nice little running team for our mid week 8-10 or even 14 milers. (who runs 14 milers on Monday at 5:30am before work? We did.) We wanted Boston, we wanted strong PR’s and I can tell you that had I had my day, there is no doubt in my mind I would have shattered my pre-requisite 3:15:59. Coach Sisson even said about 1.5 months ahead of the race that he could see a 3:05 in me based on how I was running. Confidence was oozing out of me. There is not a workout, or a long run I could not dominate. And then came the heat, and my Chicago race was destroyed. What had taken 24 weeks to build, was destroyed in 54 minutes (7.75 miles).

Licking my second wound, I signed up for Dallas, and my coaches wrote a new macro for me to get re-geared in 2 months. Primed, oiled and ready… this machine would kill it in Dallas. But adding another 9 weeks of training to 24 months was hard. It took its toll mentally, and well, Dallas was yet again, a failed attempt at <3:15:59. I simply didn’t have “it”. Mentally, I was drained, but more important, my morale was devastated.

So the road for me has now changed. Yes, that elusive Boston marathon is still a goal, but the wounds have taken their toll. Since December I’ve run a trail race that I loved, run the long runs with the marathon program, but then treated the rest of my running as a hobby. I’ve barely looked at my splits when I have shown up to track workouts, the weather has decided whether I get out of bed or not, and pace hasn’t mattered one bit. Anyone who runs with me nowadays knows that “Mike is on vacation”.
Anyone who has raced a marathon knows that it’s 90% mental, and I need some serious time to recharge. Fun trail runs, stress free long runs with the marathoners, meaningless track workouts, all for the sake of slowly determining if I really like running, if I really want to do this long term.

So I signed up for the Austin Marathon a few months ago, but didn’t really tell many people. (My coaches Ruth and Steve didn't even know till they saw the medak around my neck that I was running.) It wasn’t a race, and not something I was training for very hard. It was a place where a dream had begun and ended, and what has sometimes felt as a place where the curse began. But this time the goal was different. No Boston, no time goal, no stress, and no pressure. As stated previously, my goals were to: 1- not end up in the medical tent, 2- run the entire thing, and 3- have fun. All these being obvious parts of the bigger goal of slowly rebuilding mentally.

Based on recent prior long runs, I was pretty sure I could hang with the 3:30 pace group for a good 20 to 22 miles. An 8 minute mile is right around my easy long run pace, so it made sense to run with them, as it turned out JJ, and Jo Dee, and Mark, and David, and several other people I knew and they knew, where running there. The cannon went off and pretty quickly, I realized I would do myself no good by running with others I knew. After all, to rebuild mentally I just needed to prove to myself that I can remain positive throughout, and this journey was best experienced alone.
I was going to have a good time, and the best way to have a good time on a three and a half hour adventure, is to seek out the positives and embrace them, and so I did…. And…I actually enjoyed myself. I had conversations with complete strangers, but not about pace, and time, and goals, but about running stories… about Geezer’s fantastic food free marathoning, about my friend on the sidelines dressed up as a hot dog that had overcome a long battle with back issues…

My friends were on the course, and they were fantastic. KP in the French Fries costume, Tim the Hotdog man and Heather “the butterfly?” or “fireworks on her head”? Shorey, Kris, Kerry, Tim, Carrie and company on their bikes. The Rogue crew on Lake Austin… Nedra, Trey and others. Coach Amy on Exposition, Bryan, Brandon and Jill on Great Northern, the Rogue water stop (thank you all!). Sharon at 19'ish? (what a surprise!) Every runner always tells you how appreciated it is to see a friendly and familiar face on the course. The sight of seeing someone that cares, having taken time out of their lives to support you cannot be described, so unless you’ve experienced it, you don’t know what these "thank you's" mean.

I went and heard Dick Beardsley speak on Friday afternoon at the Marathon Expo, and one of the takeaways, I took from him was to find the positive in things you see and use it to pull you along.
There were posters that people had put on the side of the road with inspirational quotes, and encouragements to their families. I took those posters and found the positive in them, sometimes thinking for several minutes about who that person they were cheering on could potentially be, and how much time and effort they had spent preparing. The “Blue Thunder” posters on mile 23 and 25 were a nice surprise. I’m not even in Panther’s Blue Thunder training group, but I am an adopted friend, so those posters oozed energy into me. Some of the water stops had nice signs, random people waved things. I took positive energy from everything.

Coach Amy also gave a speech, and my take away from hers was to live “in the now”. She has the fortune of having the “toughest on the course when facing adversity” story I have ever heard, so she must know something! And I did live in the now. So much so that I had planned to run without a stopwatch. I wanted to leave my watch in the car, but I figured it was best to have a sense of time before the run, to appropriately plan out bathroom visits, get to the starting corral on time etc. After mile 13, I waited patiently to dump my watch with the next person I saw on the course. So at Mile 16’ish, Bryan and a couple of other colleagues from work were on the course, I threw my cap, gloves and watch to him. A little later, I tore my 3:30 pace band off, and decided to just enjoy my run. It was the best thing I could have done.

I continued to run, and thanked hundreds of people. I thanked everyone I could that was on the course. “Thanks for coming out”, “thanks for the support”, “Appreciate you being here”, “thanks for getting up early today”, “thanks for bringing out your dog!”, “thanks for the support”. What I thought might work out to just pass the time, quickly blossomed into this energy treasure chest. People were thanking me for being out there, they were cheering me on, they were telling me they were happy to be there. It was great, and for a good 8 miles, this had my brain in autopilot! When I ran by the Mile 18 Rogue water stop, I knew a good 8-10 people in there. I was loving life. I’ve never felt so good after 18 miles, and I let them know it! I saw the cycling crew again around 22 ( I think) and they claim I looked great!, other people as you can see in the comments in the previous post said I looked great and was smiling. Outside I was smiling. Inside I was smiling. I easily get an A+ in this class.

I went and listened to Coach Sisson’s speech last week, and one of the things I took away from his speech was to “never quit”. I must be honest… even though I ran a non race pace, I hadn’t put in the time to be fully ready, but I knew this and accepted it. However, my goal was to prove to myself that I could run an entire marathon, and I thought that if I wasn’t fully prepared, then it would pay back triple in confidence if I managed to do it. The last 3 miles were hard. Hard. Hard. Hard. But I was in no hurry, so I slowed to what I assume was around an 8:20-8:30 pace, and trotted along. No walking, No way. No walking, No Way. Left foot, right foot, left foot right foot. You want Mantras to repeat in your head, I got plenty!

As I reached the 25 mile marker I hid my emotions from my friend Jim, whom I had picked up out of the gutter by Double Dave’s Pizza on Duval. He’d had a bad day, Stomach issues, puking, walking... but I told him to run, and he did. I hope he’s happy he did. That last mile was hard emotionally. I knew I could run it, but I was overwhelmed by emotions of the prior year. I was going to defeat that demon, and I was running all the way in. I finally climbed the final hill on San Jacinto with a ½ mile to go, and now, it was just a nice downhill, and then the glorious 4 block run along Congress avenue to the finish. A run I had dreamed of for many months leading up to my very first marathon. A dream run that was disrupted. A run I so wanted to have the prior year. I soaked it all in. “Jim, lets pick up the pace and show these fans our form. We need to finish this and look good.” He complied and we ran towards the finish together. I finally could see the official time, and the competitive nature in me kicked in. “Come on Jim, let go shave some time!” as we approached the finish line shute, I felt like I had won the marathon. A year in waiting, 3 prior failed attempts at a happy ending had finally been exorcized. I smiled and I lifted my hands in the air. “Jim, raise your hands with pride! It’s not the time you’ll remember, it’s the journey it took to get here that counts!” I crossed the finish line with a chip time of 3:26:34, as I punched through the air like a cyclist winning a stage of the Tour.

Immediately after getting my medal were coaches Carolyn and Amy. Carolyn with camera on hand, and Amy. Amy knew what I was waiting for… the hug she had promised she’d have waiting for me at the finish. I hope I didn’t squeeze too hard, but man, I’d been waiting for a year for that elusive and well deserved congratulatory hug.

My running life continues.. my journey towards my goal of belonging with the ranks of Boston marathon qualifiers. Yesterday was not just an easy long run, it was a huge step towards a personal goal that I will someday achieve. There will be more failures along the way, but today was a huge boost. I cannot wait to run past the north entrance of the Capitol again, as from now it is but a distant memory, and no longer reality.

I came home yesterday, highly revitalized. And after 2 failed attempts (Chicago and Dallas) I was finally able to do something I have been wanting to do for a year… I replaced that haunting Austin Marathon 2007 bib and medal, with something I can be proud of.