Erie Marathon at Presque Isle - RunMarathon

Marathon #18
I lined up about 3 deep from the front of the start, just behind the 7 minute mile marker. I was really unsure as to how this was going to go. I hadn't run a "marathon" in over 2 1/2 years, and the races I HAD been doing since then were either ULTRAS or IMs, with not much speed training to speak of, at least not for a marathon. PLAN A was to look at a 3:10 marathon. That was a 7:14 pace. Plan B was to at least PR, which was a 7:25 pace. PLAN C was to get in a Boston Qualify Time of finishing before 3:25. I'd been doing my speed workouts and pace runs with the 7:14 as a target, but there was so little time between my IRONMAN and this race, I wasn't sure it was enough to get me up to snuff. I was about to find out.
The gun goes off and the race begins. The crowd was small enough and I was close enough to the front that there wasn't any problems getting boxed in or waiting long to find my pace. I let about a half mile go by and checked the Garmin...6:57...to fast...so I eased back a bit. We turned right on to the main road and headed towards the mainland. After the first mile I checked my pace...7:04. Still fast, but I felt crazy comfortable, so I decided to just hold this pace to see what mile 2 would bring. Everyone around me seemed like they had seeded themselves properly and didn't appear to be pushing hard, but I knew this was a top level bunch of people who were dancing with a near 3 hour finish time if they held this pace....something I could only dream of. Mile 2 came and my average pace was a 7:04....I still felt good, but decided to relax a bit. The sun was just coming up as we ran down the road, which was lined with tall trees. People were still chatting, so no one was hurting yet. I wasn't being social this race. I was on a mission, and being chatty wasn't in the cards. I was continuously checking in with myself. Breathing was good. No pain. Didn't feel tired or like I was out of my comfort zone. As the miles 3, 4, 6, 8 and 10 progressed towards finishing the first of 2 loops, I just kept playing with that sub 7:10 pace. I hit 7:10 a few times, but brought it back to 7:06 easy enough later. At mile 12 I was feeling so good that I decided that if I felt this good at mile 13, the end of the first lap, that I might try to negative split this race. Silly me.
At 13 I flew through the finish line crowd at 1:33 and some change. That was only 5ish minutes off my best half marathon pace. THAT should have been a sign....but it didn't deter me. I thought to myself....maybe the 100 miler and the Ironman earlier this year has prepared me to run THIS fast and those few weeks of speed training WERE enough. Ahhhhhhh, delusions of grandeur.
I held on for a couple of more miles, but as I approached mile 16, I knew this pace was done with. I've done this enough now to recognize the signs when my body decides to battle itself, and this was the beginning, but this was WAY TO EARLY. I usually don't want to feel this for 4 or 5 more miles, because it's not just a physical battle, but a mental one as well. The later stages of a marathon is all about HOW LONG CAN YOU PUT UP WITH A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF PAIN. A lot of mental bargaining goes on at this point. At 16, the pace dropped to 7:08, and by 17, down to 7:10. I picked up the pace, or at least I tried. I knew that if I continued to drop my pace this quickly, I'd not make any of my goals. So I dug a little deeper....and for a few miles it helped. I was still slowing down, but not so dramatically. Every mile, I saw my average pace slip away. By mile 19, I hit 7:14, which meant my 3:10 goal was gone. At mile 23, I looked down to see my average was now a 7:25...so my PR was about to slip away too. I turned on some speed, but I knew that even that wasn't going to be enough to keep that PR. CRAP! Everything from the waist down was in some crazy ass pain, but I knew that I only had a couple of miles left. I was actually counting it down as laps on a track....anything to give me some bite sized pieces I could deal with. My last goal was the Boston Qualify time. The devil on my left shoulder was telling me to just slow down and relax....I wasn't going to go to Boston even if I DID make the time, so what's the big deal? The angel on my other shoulder was telling me that I NEVER give up or give in and that TODAY isn't going to be any different. So I pushed. It's what I do. Screw the pain. Tick, Tick, Tick. As I approached mile 26, I saw 3:20 come .....and then go...geez. Now the crowds were getting pretty thick, and as there was no reason to really push harder, since I'd make the 3:25 Boston Time, but how can you slow down when everyone is yelling your name (it was written on my bib) and telling you to finish strong. I saw the finish line ahead, with it's banner, and I just focused in. This was NOT the race I wanted it to be, but ya know, it wasn't a BAD race either. I heard Karen yell at me, which made me smile for a second, and I crossed the line. Done. 3:21:19.
OH, MY, GAUD! I hadn't felt this kind of pain from a race since my first race in New York back in 1994. However, this time, I knew it wouldn't last forever and I could suck it up and deal with it. I felt dizzy and I knew my body was going into it's funny little "shock" that sometimes happens after a hard race, but I was still standing, so I was good enough. I just gritted my teeth, took my medal, and even posed for a quick pic with the flag. Hell, crying wasn't going to help, so I figured I'd just laugh out loud when the pain really started ramping up....so laugh I did...A LOT! Karen thought I was loosing my marbles...except that I kept yelling curse words between bouts of laughing...I was like some lunatic.
I slammed some chocolate milk and was lead to a park bench to sit for a few minutes. I know...I know...I'm supposed to walk...but fuck that....I was going to sit, and when I did, the pain dropped off by about 30%...ahhhhhhhh.
I stayed on the bench for about 10 minutes...or so...but then it was time for the LONG walk back to the car. Laughing....cursing...and taking 4 inch steps, I made it to the car. My fingers were numb and I was shivering, but I made it....almost as big a milestone as finishing the race itself!


Lessons were learned....again. I was and still am unhappy with myself. I should not have gone out that fast, or set such lofty goals. I should have just tried to PR by a minute or so, and set my pace accordingly. Stupid...but I really didn't have anything to loose here, so what the hell. Live and learn...and learn...and learn.

It was all I could do to hobble over to that freaking park bench and collapse for a few minutes. Walking back to the car was wonderfully painful.


Stupidity.


I'd do this one again. Nice area. Good course if you want a fast time and don't try to be stupid.