Yes, it’s long, but it’ll take you much less than it took me to run the damn thing!
PRE RACE
I woke up at 1:17am needing to use the bathroom. I never went back to sleep spending the next 2.5 hours playing the race in my head, remembering what the course was like and imagining how I was going to run every hill, every turn, every downhill. I was at peace with my plan, coach Sisson’s course plan for us, and was ready to get up and get after it.
Unlike every other Boston Qualifying attempt I’ve had (all 2 of them), the feeling today was different; I wasn’t nervous, I wasn’t second guessing what would unfold. Envisioning the race was just strengthening my confidence, and every strategy I came up with for every mile, I quickly confirmed as the correct choice.
Eventually it was time to get up. I popped out of bed, threw on my race singlet, my Decker 2006 longsleeve, gloves, hat and cargo pants and went downstairs and outside onto mile 26 just outside our hotel and went for a brief run. The street was deserted, and I ran in the 2nd lane from the left envisioning how I would be retracing these footsteps a few hours later. Ran 3 minutes out 3 minutes back, just a slow pace, maybe a 9-9:30. I read many months ago in a Running Times how Brian Sell will go run as soon as he wakes up, to shake things loose from sleeping, and also just to get off “on the right foot.” I did this at Timberline in September too, and I will do it at every marathon I ever run again. It gives me a great perspective on weather, I pulled off my long sleeve, then my gloves, trying different clothing options. But most of all, it made me feel ready.
Returned, ate a bowl of cereal, drank a few gulps of water, and chatted with Larry as we got ready.
In the lobby I got that “heavy legs” “drained body energy” feeling for a few minutes, but it quickly subsided when we were called over to group up for Sisson’s last speech. A talk about how far we’d come, then runs we’d done, and how it was time to EXECUTE. I felt very emotional as he spoke and just hoped the tears wouldn’t flow. Today was my day, and he was just confirming that nothing was going to stop me.
A couple of the train and weekday run members took off for a last second bathroom break, but we all waited for them, thus getting separated from Team Rogue. It was OK. I had the people I would go to battle with around me, the people I had run over 2,000 miles with. Kamran, Ken, Larry, Jason, Tausha, Charles, Bruce, Keith, Damon (and his brother Dustin). He bus ride up to the start was about 45 minutes long, and Charles(geezer) and I sat next to each other. We had both looked at each other in silence while waiting for the bus, grins on our faces, but silent. We continued this on the bus. I didn’t partake in the chatter surrounding us, instead opting to look out the window and retrace my journey. AT&T Austin marathon 2007, 1200 meters from the finishline, 90 seconds under pace, the dreaded collapse. How that race played out, how far Nedra took me, and my deteriorating body, just pulling me along. Today, I was taking responsibility to pull people along.
I remembered the Chicago Marathon debacle with the heat. The quick regroup and attempt at Dallas, where despite all Larry tried, I was simply mentally drained. I then remembered all our long runs this season. I looked at every runner around me, and remembered those special moments I spent with everyone of them. 2,477 miles over 350 hours of running brings out many laughs, many pains, many many memories. I looked at Bruce, I looked at Tausha, Keith, Kamran, Larry, Charles, Damon, Jason and Ken. I spent quite a bit of time looking back at Ken. We’d spent the most time together, cranking out 100 mile weeks, our patented daily conversation as we ran, just the two of us. “Ken, is all this going to pay off? Yes, Mike, This is all going to pay off”. Kristen was missing, but her battle had been fought and achieved a few weeks prior, but it still felt like she was here with us.
What was nice about the start was the buses and the port-a-potties. They let us stay in the heated buses as long as we wanted, and they had 250 bathrooms available. 6000 runners, 250 bathrooms… 1 for every 24 runners. No lines at the far ones! I ran over to the bathrooms twice, and eventually at 6:35 it was time for us to depart. Kamran, Charles, Larry and Ken went their way, and we, the 3:10 went our way making sure we didn’t lose anyone. We then went over to bag drop and reconvened at the designated lamp post for the start. Keith, Bruce, Jason, Damon, Tausha and I. The 6 train members are ready.
THE RACE
Mile 1 started with a long downhill stretch where it was chaos as is any marathon. People lined up way too far in front that shouldn’t be, others freaking out because they’re not running fast enough, people cutting left and right in front of you. Tausha and stayed together and quickly built a 30 yard lead over the rest of the team, but we’re still way way slow, clocking in the first miles at 7:37, 22 seconds over pace.
Miles 2 and 3
Things are still crowded, and Tausha and I are just focusing on not get tripped up and finding our rhythm. I’m debating whether I should try and shave of a a few seconds over 6 or 7 miles, or pop a couple fast miles to get caught up, but get smart fast and remember, it’s a looong way and there’s plenty of time to get back those 20 seconds. Mile 2 clocks in at 7:09, not bad. Mile 3 yields a 7:15. perfect!
It was very foggy and cold out. Probably 37 or so at the start, and the fog impedes your ability to see more than maybe 100 yards ahead of you. I’ve never run in thick thick fog before, and I quickly come to like it. This course has long straight lines, and it’s nice to not to be able to see so far ahead of you.
By the end of Mile 3, the official 3:10 pace group come barreling past us. They are easily going 10-20 faster than we are, and we nailed our pace. We move over to the right where there’s more room to run, and let them go. We see Coach Sisson on the sidelines at this point, and I comment to Tausha on how he’s going to think we’re being bozos running with the pacer. There’s no way to tell him we’re actually 15 seconds slow and the pace group is in the process of running by us.
Mile 4 is a bit fast as the tail of the pace group pulls us along and it’s hard to cut the cord, but when I saw 7:03, it got real easy to just slow the hell down and let them run away. By this time the rest of the train has rejoined us, and the 6 of us are finally ready to make this happen. We have a new addition to the train, Jennifer (last name?) from Austin. I’ve seen her a million times at barton springs with her clan of runners, but never actually met her. She knows me, and my blog and my newly painted cat. (how many other blog lurkers are there?!). Turns out she wants to run a 3:10 pace as well, so she’s invited to join the train. We’re past the Pecos/Enfield type rollers and can finally get our groove on.
Miles, 5,6,7,8 & 9.
Tausha and I are still leading the pack, along with Jennifer. Sisson had given Damon and Jason clear instructions. “STAY BEHIND MIKE”. Damon has a tendency to get into “drone mode” and slowly pull away, and Jason sometimes will follow. It makes me smile inside repeatedly as we’re popping off perfect miles. 7:15, 7:16, 7:22(aid station mile)7:15, 7:15. Construction in the middle of the road divides the road in two for aout 0.7 miles. We took the right hand side of the road construction, as planned during the prior day’s drive which no one else did. Not sure why. It was great to have a whole lane to ourselves for half a mile while the rest of the runners are packed like sardines. It would turn out that Kam, Ken, Charles and Larry also went right. Hell yeah!
Conversation is good, not too much to get me going and use up too much energy, but it’s good. And it’s nice to have a new member as she’s in a great mood excited almost to disbelief on how fast the miles are coming up on us, and how we’re nailing the pace.
The pace group now is long gone. Maybe on a clear day we’d see the red 3:10 sign bobbing up and down, but in this fog, they’re non-existent, well over 100 if not 200 meters away?
The rollers along here and the next 4 miles are bigger; longer ups, longer downs, but not too steep where they’ll kill you. I never struggled on them, but you definitely notice them there.
Mile 10,11 – the big hills.
We’re still running well, Bruce up along side as well, Damon from time to time getting ahead of us, and even though I told him I wouldn’t stop him, I can’t help but yell out his name. “Damon!” and he complies coming back into the fold. We hit the little town of Fair Oaks and prepare for the big hill at 10.5. It’s surprising how many people don’t drive he course, because we find ourselves describing it to other runners. We hit the hill, and it’s all good. I’d equate it to running up from the Runtex riverside up south First fo the track at the school for the deaf. Maybe 3-400 meters long, it makes no dent in our armor. After the big hill, there’s a big down, then a big hill again. I actually felt like the 2nd was tougher. Nevertheless, the train can’t be stopped and our splits for 10 and 11 are yet again, 7:15, 7:15.
Mile 12, 13, 14
We’re finally out of the never-ending rollers. My quads are not warming up correctly, and I know now that they’re not going to be at their prime today. It’s simply too cold, and the rollers have not helped the cause in any way. I’m at my prime in temperature around 50 degrees, and 37-41 isn’t 50. This is the worst stretch for me of the marathon. I’m thinking about my quads, thinking ahead about the last 6 miles, and feeling fatigued. But I know that this point would come, it always does, and I also know that it will pass. By this point, 5 or 6 other runners are on to us and our pacing prowess, and have joined our train. I decide to let someone else hold the pace, and drop just behind the train to let the crap feeling subside. Damon’s now hitting his groove and I find myself repeatedly telling(yelling at) him to get back in line. He complies, and thanks me. He drifts away again. I tell him to get out of drone mode and wake up. Jason, Bruce, Tausha we look at each other in silence every time, and debate whether we should just let him go. I refuse. I can’t let a teammate make that mistake. “DAMON!” he slows down.
I have a little chat with Jason about our dear friend, and finally I snap” “GOD DAMMIT DAMON, THIS IS THE LAST FUCKING TIME I TELL YOU. GET. THE. FUCK. BACK. BEHIND. ME.” I yell at the top of my lungs. It catches everyone by surprise, and sends our guest runners in every direction. Hah hah! He slows and I tell him I love him, but dammit, I can’t have him run away. The team rallies behind me and we all tell him to conserve until 19.
Paces: 7:20, 7:12:7:11
Mile 15 and 16
Sisson has warned us to NOT pick it up here as there are loooong slight down hills here and others will get lulled into running faster here because everyone always feels good at 15-16. We comply, and we tell Jennifer about this, which then slows other runners that have now caught us and are passing us down too. Too funny! However, looking ahead, you can see people getting away from us. Sisson was spot on here. But we know we’ll see all those idiots again in the late miles. There’s simply no doubt about it.
Splits 7:16, 7:15.
Miles 17,18,19,20
These miles are pretty uneventful if you’re not paying attention to what’s going on around us. At this point all we’re doing is waiting for mile 19 and 20 to pass so we can start our race. Coach had told us to “go” at 19 or 20. I decided and openly told everyone I would wait for 20, Bruce I think replied with 21, and we “let” Damon go at 19. : )
We’re chatting a little, feeling fantastic. The road here is mostly flat and straight as an arrow. Imagine the straightness of Burnett road, but with the scenery and asphalt of Shoal Creek or Duval.
7:15, 7:16, 7:16, 7:18.
So what was going on around us. I’m starting to look at people around us, and I also find that we’re starting to pass people. Their faces are starting to crack, people we are passing are clearly laboring. People we have been running with are starting to fall off. We’re breathing easy, running along, starting t o get excited about the miles to come, and they’re starting to “hit the wall”. It’s honestly so hard to explain. We’re strong, focused and eagerly anticipating our “go time”, and these people around us are NOT in that position at all.
I had a band on my right hand with a few words on it, that can help me if I start to falter. I hadn’t looked at it yet, but now one thing comes in to play. Someone on the side of the road put this sign out there: “Your mother is watching”. I had the word” FAMILY” on my pace band, and for my running team members, my friends back home, but mostly for my direct family to draw energy from them. I also had my late stepmother’s name on my band. She passed away a few months ago as I was dedicating this marathon to her.
It was from this point on, that I knew there was nothing at all that was going to stop me today. NOTHING.
THE RACE BEGINS AT 20
I have no idea what coach yelled to us when we passed him around 19.5, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t need anymore motivation. At the mile 20 mark, I told the remaining train members that it was time for me to depart, tried a unconventional motivational speech for them, popped in my earphones, turned on my ipod, raised the main sail and off I went.
About 2hours 26 mins into the race…
BOOM!Mile 21 – 6:47… 28 seconds faster than MGP.
I’m passing people, but there are a few that are hanging tough. Two of which are young female runners. Maybe 20-23 years old at the most. I remember Kristen, and how she pulled me at Soul buster 2, and I decide to just tag on to this blonde workhorse in front of me.
The metal bridge. Coach had told us in the strategy meeting the day before to take that bridge hard, and when we reached the top of it, to yell out “IS THIS ALL YOU GOT!!??” and boy did I yell! I changed it up a little, but overall, it went something like this:
“IS THIS ALL I GOT?! I”VE GOT WAY MORE THAN THIS. THIS COURSE AINT GOT SHIT ON ME!” to which I got a roaring cheer from the crowds on the sidelines. Hahahaha
I’m now using the words on my band on my right hand.
SOUL BUSTERS - I was strong on all of them, and this isn’t a soulbuster. It pales in comparison. (at least that’s what I tell myself)
PROVE THEM WRONG – who’s them? Anyone who ever doubted me in life, the Boston gods, my inner demons. All of them.
2500 miles for what? – doubt I need to explain this one.
FAMILY -
MAINTAIN – 3 weeks ago, I struggled on a tempo run, terrible side stich, heavy legs etc. I kept saying to myself, HANG ON, JUST HANG ON. And then it dawned on me. HANG ON, makes you run like you’re holding on to something ahead of you, so you slouch over, and over all, it’s negative. MAINTAIN. Now that’s a strong word. MAINTAIN. Same purpose, much stronger meaning, upright running.
How bad do you want it - Yeah, I want is worse than anything I’ve ever wanted at this time.
Millie – My late stepmother, I’m thinking of you. This race is for you.
Mile 22 – Blonde pacer is still holding tough for mile 22, and at this point I’m right next to her. We’re picking people off like they’re annoying ankle biters. I tell her she’s running super strong to which she looks at me, surprised I guess as a complete stranger is fully awake, has all his capacities, and still has energy to look at others and hold a conversation. She smiles and says “thanks” very lightly. This is where I notice she’s red-lining it. She is NOT going to lead me to the promise land, but thanks for pulling me till you hit your wall! 6:57, 18 seconds faster than MGP
Mile 23 – my only mistake. I let up. I let up too much. Why? I caught a big clump of runners and for some reason decided to settle in with them thinking I could just get pulled along. I realized too late I was going to clock a 7+ min mile when I spotted the mile banner, and clocked a 7:05. Pathetic. Honestly. I’m at mile 23, and the only word I can think of is.. PATHETIC. How cool is that!? I take off telling them “COME ON!!!,,,ANYONE CAN RUN A 5K!” no one comes with me. Weaklings. Only 10 seconds faster than MGP. Booo!
Mile 24 –
This is the one where we run under a highway. At this point, I’m so freaking determined, I grab my three pace bands(3:10, 3:07, motivationals), and toss them all. I’m giving it almost all I got, still have 5% in me saying, DO NOT BLOW a hamstring and kill Boston. I also look at my watch and see that if Larry hit his goal of sub 2:50 he is now in. More energy coming my way! 6:50 25 seconds faster than MGP.
Mile 25 – same as 24. I’ve been grabbing Cytomax drink and water at every water stop since mile 20, popping more salt pills, and have also eaten 2 GU’s in the last 20 minutes. This time I also grab a water I throw at my face. I realize, oh shit, that was cold and now my shirt is soaked. Not the same effect as the hot races in Austin! But I’m picking people off, and I’m feeding off everyone of them. Some I even look at their faces of despair and I think. Yep, that’s because you are not a TEAM ROGUE. You don’t have a clue of what I’m capable of. I’m running for my life. Mile 25 comes in at 6:55 20 seconds faster than MGP.
Mile 26 – Oh hell yeah! My ipod song selection has ended and is restarting itself from the top. A little radio broadcast clip of Vince Young running into the endzone against USC, then my song I can’t get enough of “Time to pretend” MGMT.
I start this mile, right at the 3 hour mark and think of Ken and Kamran at the finishline. More energy. I’m going to give it all I got now. I’ve been on this road before, 6 hours earlier, it was only me and darkness. This is my road. I’m passing people like they’re standing still. It’s unbelievable how much stronger I am than these soul-less runners. They’re probably sub-3 hour wannabes, but simply didn’t have it today. I don’t care though, to me, they’re road kill, and I’m picking them all off. “A, always, B, be, C, closing; always be closing. A always, B be, C closing” I repeat incessantly for the next 8 minutes. I’m closing on a runner, picking him/her off, moving on to the next. BAM BAM BAM… There is no doubt now. I am going to Boston. I finally belong. Redemption. I AM A GOING TO BE BOSTON QUALIFIER. I’m soaking it in, as I’m running as hard as I possibly can.
I clock in a 6:43, THIRTY TWO seconds faster than MGP and the fastest mile of my whole race. TAKE THAT CALIFORNIA INTERNATIONAL MARATHON!
0.2, rounding the 2nd to last turn, then the last turn, I’m now thinking I may have sub 2:08 in me, but I came up a little short. The competitor in me is disappointed, but it’s a small fraction of my thoughts, as all I’m thinking now is I BELONG. I FINALLY belong in Boston.
Ken and Kamran are on the side as I turn that last corner with 40 yards to go, both super excited meaning they must have hit their goals too?!. Emotions overwhelm me as I do some fist pumps crossing the finish line. I’m done. I’ve hit it. I had envisioned that clock showing a 3:06, 07, 08, or 09 as I came across the finish line hundreds of times, and now it is finally real.
3:08:12 – I love it. I absolutely love it. I can’t stop looking at it. But I also know there’s more work ahead, because that’s the tip of the iceberg, and I’m no longer the Titanic. (cheesy… I know)
A 13 minute Personal Record!
* * * * * * *
The sacrifices were plentiful, but the sweet sweet reward is beyond compare.
Without all of you out there reading this, it doesn’t happen. Thank you.
Thank you Mer, for helping me understand my body, and what hydration, electrolyte and nutrition strategy it requires.
Thank you Team Rogue. We are the warriors, and we made it happen.
Thank you 3:10 train and extended 3:10 family. 5:30am at Barton Springs will always be a memory I’ll fondly remember. None of us will ever be the same.
But most of all, thank you, Steve. You told me in January that you could turn me into a monster. At first, I doubted you, and thought you were absolutely crazy. Not understanding what you were talking about, and not believing what you said this training program would do for me, I hesitantly jumped in head first into the deep end.
I doubt you no more. To be able to casually run 20 miles with people around me commenting on how relaxed I/we look, and then pull off my fastest miles while others are on death’s door is proof that what you have created is a monster; a monster of a program that re-writes how marathons should be approached by the mere-mortal that wants to get a taste of what elite can feel like.
We did it. You did it. Thank you.
Let’s go do it again!
(click to enlarge image)
