Of course, in the past year or so, with the release of Born to Run, and the Harvard Study on barefoot running: http://www.barefootrunning.fas.harvard.edu/index.html barefoot running has developed into a fast-growing movement.  So we’ve had a large number of people quickly adopting it.  More recently, this has resulted in an uptick in barefoot running related injuries, according to Matt Fitzgerald’s article in Competitor Magazine.  As the article points out, it’s hard to say whether barefoot running causes more injuries or if it causes a proportionate number of injuries, but there’s just more people running barefoot now.

I do think starting to run barefoot poses some unique challenges that elevate injury risk.  Muscles, tendons, and bones that have been greatly underused for most of your life are inevitably weak and vulnerable to overuse.  Overprotected skin is soft and vulnerable to puncture.  Using a different running form can also cause adjustment problems elsewhere in the body.  The recent barefoot running movement, and the rash of injuries that have come with it, have afforded me the opportunity to step back and take a look at the challenges and injuries that others have incurred on their attempts to transition to barefoot running.  The Huraches/minimalist/barefoot running Google group has been an excellent resource.  Here’s a list of possible barefoot-running related injuries that I’m going to bear in mind as I make the transition:

• Skin puncture – This is an obvious one, and something the scares most people away.  By shedding the huge layer of protection, the skin of my feet will be vulnerable to puncture by sharp objects.  To prevent this, I plan to start my running on grass in rather desolate areas where I’m less likely to encounter man-made sharp objects – glass from bottles, shards of metal, etc.  I’ll also be keeping a keen eye out for objects as I’m starting.  My skin will tough up over time, and be more puncture resistant.  Ultimately, I will be transitioning to minimalist shoes, which will make this a non-issue.
• Ball of the foot (BOF) pain – running barefoot puts more direct pressure on the ball of the foot.  This may result in some initial discomfort in the region, in particular if I step on a small rock directly in the middle of the BOF.  This is definitely something to watch out for, as it’s rather difficult to run with good form if the BOF is hurting.
• Calf/Achilles’s tendon pain, inflammation – barefoot running also utilizes these groups more.  I think this tends to be more of an over-use kind of issue, so taking it slowly and gradually should help me steer clear of this.
• Plantar Fasciitis (PF) – Similar to calf and Achilles’s pain, I think this is more of an over-use issue for barefooters.  It’s interesting because barefoot running is typically recommended as treatment/rehab for PF because it will strengthen the tendons long term.
• Top of the foot (TOF) pain – this seems to be a big one.  Obviously, you’re not directly contacting the ground with the top of the foot, so top of the foot pain is usually indicative of something more internal – perhaps a stress fracture.  If I feel this kind of pain, I’ll definitely hold back, maybe even take some time off.
• Toe fracture – This is what I’m most afraid of for trail running.  You’re moving along pretty well on a rocky trail, and then you slam your bare foot into a rock, fracturing one or many of your toes.  I’m going to hold off on trail running for a while because of this one.  I’ve heard of some trail runners being able to run through mountains barefoot, but I’ve also heard of people really messing up their toes.  I might just stick to using shoes on the trail, though I’ll be looking for minimalist trail shoes that offer adequate protection (I find right now there are few choices).

I hope to mitigate these problems by taking a very gradual approach, and listening to my body.  I won’t increase distance, speed, or change surfaces until I’ve given it a couple of days rest to see how my body responds.  So far, after running barefoot for 20 minutes Yesterday, which was actually more than I intended to run, I’ve had some mild soreness Today in the expected regions – calf/Achilles’s, hips, feet muscles.  Seems like I have it just right, but will probably ease off a bit this week.  I’m hoping that I can get past the initial hurdles unscathed and reap the long-term benefits of injury prevention and efficiency.

So I guess the big question is why?  Well, here are my reasons, and the goals I’m hoping barefoot running can help me achieve:

• Strengthen my feet.  This one is pretty obvious.  While the rest of the benefits of barefoot running may be debatable, it’s hard to argue against it improving strength in my feet.  Barefoot advocates say that wearing shoes your whole life is much like wearing a cast, and by shedding your shoes you allow your feet to strengthen.  Without shoes, muscles and tendons are forced to bear weight in a manner that they wouldn’t otherwise.  I’m looking forward to stronger muscles and tendons in my feet, which I think can lead to more power and fewer injuries.
• Strengthen my lower legs.  This is also hardly contentious either – running barefoot stresses the calf and Achilles tendons greatly, and over time that means strength.
• Improve my running efficiency.  As I’ve mentioned before in my discussion of barefoot running, it allows you to use your natural “lower leg spring”, which comes with stronger lower legs and feet.  Tendons are amazingly efficient at storing and releasing kinetic energy, and by developing my plantar fascia, Achilles tendons, and other tendons in my lower leg, and the running form needed to utilize them, I can generate more forward movement without as much of an oxygen debt.
• Decrease running injury risk.  Now, this is the most debatable position, and really, it depends on the individual a great deal.  I can only know if barefoot running will decrease my own injury risk if I do it myself.  I know that early on the risk is heightened a great deal, so I’ll need to be careful.  I’ll need to run slowly and keep my distance low.  More on that below.

So next is the how:

I’m going to start very easy.  This will be a challenge.  I’m still in reasonably good shape, so it’ll be hard to pull back when I’m feeling well.  It’s like putting a spare tire/donut on a sports car.  The engine is strong, but that if you go too fast, the tire won’t able able to handle it and the results would be disastrous.  I’m going to slowly build up to a half hour every other day.  I think running every other day is important because it takes about 48 hours for broken down muscle tissue to repair.  Needless to say, I’m going to keep the pace very easy.  I’m going to do my runs for time, and not measure distance, that way I won’t even know how slow I’m going.  I’ll run on grass just to start.  I’ll let my form come naturally to me, and not really try to force anything.

After a month of running easy on grass I’ll start to run on other surfaces – dirt, pavement, maybe some modest trails.  I’ll also start trying out some minimalist shoes, and figure out what works best for me.  I’ll start focusing on form more, going for a short, frequent stride, a slight lean forward, and a mid foot strike.  I’ll start to measure pace and distance.

By the fall, I hope to have figured out some good shoes to run in, that allow me to keep running with good form.  If I’m running well, and my training runs are where they need to be, I’ll sign up for some races.  Right now, I don’t want to commit to anything because I don’t want to push myself too early.

I’ll blog about the experiment here regularly, and will also be tweeting all my runs: http://twitter.com/runningsoules.  I already did a run early Today, 20 mins on grass.  It probably was already too much, will need to ease up on my runs the rest of the week.

I was in perfect position, right behind the 3:10 pacer when the race started.  With the half marathoners starting with us, the crowd was rather thick, and I found my position was not so perfect after all.  It wasn’t even the first mile, but I could still feel that heat.  I needed to get out, find some open space away from the pace group.  I knew I’d loose the effect of drafting, and the comfort and steadiness of a pacer, but these were trade offs I was willing to make in favor of getting some separation from other mobile heat-generators.  I found my opening, ahead of the group.  I’d stay here for a while, and let the pace group catch up to me, hopefully when it had thinned out a bit.

My first mile was a 6:51.  Of course this was unsustainable, it was just part of the maneuver I made to get away from the group.  I needed to slow down.  7:03.  Fine.  7:11.  Perfect.  7:00.  OK.  7:09.  I was starting to put some time “in the bank”.  The first half of the course was rather flat but the second half was hillier.  It was also going to get hotter.  Having some cushion for a second half slow-down was not a bad idea.  This was the way to do it – a few seconds at a time.  7:13.  6:55 – perhaps a downhill mile?  I drank at every aid station along the way.  I’ve mastered the art of drinking while on the run, so even though I drank every 2 miles, it hardly slowed me down.  The key is to pinch the top of the cup shut, leaving only a small opening at the bottom.  That way as it’s splashing, it stays in the cup.  The small opening makes it like drinking out of a water bottle.

7:14.  7:02.  I was steady.  7:22 for mile 10, after a slight uphill.  If this hill was insignificant, then the hills in the second half must have really been something.  I focused on keeping my form light and easy.  If it doesn’t come easy, it can’t be sustained.  7:06.  7:04.  Another slight hill getting back into the Fairgrounds for the halfway mark -7:32.  I had built myself a cushion, but it was a measly 1 minutes, 13 seconds.

There was a a turnaround in the park along the canal.  This gave me a chance to see how far ahead of the pace group I was.  Not very much at all.  I knew they were trying to also build a cushion before hitting the hills.  I knew it was only a matter of time before the pace group watch catch me.  7:26.  I was slipping.  7.20.

When I had swung by the pace group table at the expo, I saw 9 people on the list.  That’s how many had signed up at the time.  At this point of the race, there were 4 people.  Two of them were pacers.  The group paced me, and then one of the pacers dropped out.  I swung behind the remaining pacer, latching onto his pace.  I knew I had to keep in lock-step or I’d be dropped.  7:14.  We thanked our pacer for being spot-on.  There were only two of us behind the pacer.

We hit the first major hill.  I stuck right behind the pacer, but could feel myself laboring to keep up.  My heart was pounding, breath was hard.  I was clearly entering an anaerobic state.  All that just to be 7 seconds off pace: 7:22.  After that, there was a major downhill.  I have a tendency to run downhills faster than other runners, so I thought this was a good time to put some distance on the pace group, before we’d be going up again.  7:13 – I had passed the pace group and the person ahead of them.  We then made a turn toward a residential area.  The volunteer said “the next three miles are the steepest”.  He wasn’t kidding.

One of the best-known characteristics of the Boston Marathon course is Hearbreak Hill.  It’s around mile 20.  It’s not the steepest hill, but it earned its nickname because of the its placement in the race – it’s right around when runners are hitting the wall anyway.  It’s somewhat ironic, and fitting, that a similar hill in a similar part of the Frederick Marathon would determine my fate.

As soon as we headed uphill, the pace group caught me.  I tried to keep up, but lost a little ground.  I figured as long as I could keep them in my sight (at this point it was the pacer and one other runner) I had a chance.  Either they’d be a little ahead of the 3:10 pace, or I’d be able to make up the lost time with a made dash at the end.  7:42 – it was obvious the damage the hill did.  They were still in my sight, I tried to close in on a downhill, but I had spent too much getting up the hill.  I had no energy to close with.

7:56.  I came in 20 miles at 2:25:04, still on pace for a 3:11:50.  If I could get through these hills, and make up some time on the final stretch, I’d have it.  But I had been here before.  In fact, doing the Tucson Marathon two years ago, I arrived at 20 miles 26 seconds faster.

I could hardly see the pace group.  8:45, Uphill.  I didn’t feel pain in any particular spot, nor was I directly feeling the effect of the heat.  My body simply wouldn’t move forward when I’d tell it too.  9:50.  At this point, I figured a 3:10 was out of reach, unless I had some incredible rebound.

Somewhere around mile 23 I reached a water station.  I had stopped for water at every aid station, and at this point, I wasn’t sure how to make myself feel better.  Was I not feeling well because I was dehydrated?  Or because I had drunk so much water?  Was water intoxication a concern?  I took a small bit of water, but knew I couldn’t handle any more.  I knew I had to just hold on a little bit – maybe I could come in under 3:20.  I hit mile 24 in 9:47.  I was starting to feel somewhat better suddenly – why couldn’t this have come sooner?

I hit mile 25 in 8:36, and soon after the 3:20 pacer passed me.  I had nothing left in me after that.  1.2 miles might as well have been 12.  I was able to put together something that resembled a sprint at the end.  The finish line at Frederick is perhaps the best in any marathon I’ve done – it’s on the horse track in the Frederick Fairgrounds, where the roaring crowd cheers on runners as they bring it home.  I finished in 3:23:47, 27th overall out of 731 finishers, 5th in my age group out of 56.

It’s hard to say whether I would have qualified for Boston if the weather were better.  A bank sign along the course around mile 25 said it was 82 degrees.  I certainly felt like I was fit enough for a 3:10, as indicated in my previous post.  I can take some solace in some of these stats:

• Only 8 runners in the whole race came in under 3:10, two of which were in the 25-30 age group (my age group)
• In the year prior, when they weather was more favorable, 24 runners came in under 3:10
• The overall winning time was 7 minutes slower that last year
• Last year’s average finish time was 4:16:29, this year it was 4:38:52

What’s Next?

I’ve had a pretty good recovery, which I attribute to having done so many 26 mile training runs.  I’ve decided to once again do the North Face Challenge, but this time just the marathon.  I also may be doing a 5k next weekend.  Additionally, I’ve been doing some light barefoot running and walking.  I hope to experiment further with it this summer.  I still want a Boston Qualifier… Steamtown will fall on my birthday this year… hmm…

• Be able to run a half marathon in 1:30:00 or faster
• Be able to run a 26 mile training run at an 8:15 pace
• Be able to run 16 miles at 7:15 pace
• Be able to run 10 1 mile repeats at a 6:15 pace

In the past couple of months, I’ve met all but the last of these goals.  I’ve had a number of amazing runs for myself.  Without further ado, here’s a summary of races and key workouts:

National Half Marathon

I was rather nervous when I started this race.  1:30 was a pretty ambitious time, and I failed to come under it during my last half marathon.  I knew how I performed here could set me up for the rest of the season.  I looked for the 3:00 marathon pace group at the start, but couldn’t find it.  I settled in near the front.  I started out fast and controlled, but had no judgement of my pace, since there were no mile markers for mile 1 or 2.  The first mile marker was #3, where I checked my time: 19:33.  I thought I was setting myself up for a disaster – that was way too fast.

Soon after that, I heard the cheers, “Go Joany!” and soon after I saw her.  The legend herself, Joan Benoit Samuelson.  I knew she was running this race, but did not think I would be running alongside her.  She was, of course, moving right along.  I was more than halfway tempted to see if I could keep with her, but already thinking that I had gone out to fast, I had to ease off.  I felt no shame in letting that 50 year old lady pass me.

Running with the legend, I came in mile 4 at 6:23.  I knew with my first 3 miles coming in at 19:33, I could run the rest of the race at a 7 minute pace and still come in under 1:30.  I also knew I was going too fast.  I didn’t want to face the embarrassment of hitting the wall in a half marathon.  I kept telling myself to slow down.  We hit a turnaround, and I could see the runners behind me… including the 3:00 marathon pace group – I was way ahead of them.  I never though I would see a 3:00 pace group behind me, let alone by that margin.  That was another indicator that I was going too fast.

I told myself to slow down.  Just a 7 minute pace and I’d have this locked up.  6:45.  Ok, a little slower, but still faster than needed, slow down some more.  6:46.  6:59.  Ok, that’s more like it, just settle in there.  6:32.  6:28.  They felt like 7′s.  6:27.  Ok, just 3.1 more to go.  If my inability to slow down were going to punish me, it would have already.  I knew I had this locked up, but I didn’t want to ease up, and of course that’s when the pace didn’t feel as easy.  6:44.  6:49.  I brought it home during the final 1.1, sprinting to the finish, 6:26 pace.  My overall time was a 1:26:32 (6:37 pace).  Needless to say, I shattered my goal, and it was far easier than I could have imagined.

10 x 1 mile

My final track workout was ten 1 mile repeats with a quarter mile jogging recovery.  This is a tough workout that I’ve failed to finish in the past.  Two weeks after the National Half marathon, I felt confident I could run in the mid 6′s.  6:22.  6:23.  6:29.  I was starting to feel it here.  6:40.  Just four miles in, and I was having my doubts.  I might have to ease off, or even cut the workout short.  6:35.  6:31.  This was slower than I was hoping for, but I let myself have it easy, just as long as I started to relax.  6:17.  I relaxed, and it came easy.  6:16.  Still easy.  6:06.  With just one more to go, I wondered if I could come in under 6 while relaxing the way I do.  6:03.  Not quite.  The strangest thing was, as the workout went along and I got faster, I took shorter recovery periods.

I didn’t hit a 6:15 average – it was about 6:22, but I felt great about how the workout went, especially with how easy the last few repeats felt.

26 mile training run

This was my third 26 mile training run, and fifth training run of 20 miles or longer.  My idea here was to eliminate the wall by getting comfortable with running a full 26 mile run.  I wanted to come in near a 3:30, which was again an ambitious goal, considering my best marathon race time was just slightly under that.  In one of my previous 26 mile runs, I started off fast, but hit the all-to-familiar wall at 20 miles.  I started this run out a little slower, a little over 8 minutes a mile.  I even stopped to refill my water bottle at just 6 miles in (I drank nearly half of my water bottle at this point, having drank a lot of it during my warm up). As I approached the halfway point, I started struggling, dropping to nearly an 8:30 pace.  I came in at 1:47:19 halfway, on pace for below a 3:35, which I’d certain take. I picked up the pace, but feared the wall.  Again, I relaxed, sipping water every two miles.  The miles again came easier.  The wall never came.  My second half was a much stronger 1:41:21.  My overall time a 3:28:40, – 8:06 pace.  This was less than a minute off of my marathon PR in a training run!  Again, I shattered my goal, and had run the full marathon distance, save the .2,  only 51 seconds per mile slower.  Most importantly, I didn’t hit the wall.

Long Tempo Run

Long tempo runs have become a key fixture in my running.  I feel they’re a great way to get used to running fast over a long distance.  I felt that running 16 miles at race pace in a training run would indicate that I may be able to run that for a full marathon.  I had attempted to run a 16 mile tempo run after building up for it back in ’08, but came well short of my goal of 1:56.  More recently, I had been struggling with early morning runs, and since I do my long tempo runs mid-week, I had to get up exceptionally early to get in this run.  I started off aggressively, running the first mile in 7:08, and the second in 6:39.  I settled into a grove at 7 minutes a mile.  I came in halfway at 56:59, on pace for a 1:54.  I had some time “in the bank” and knew I’d have to spend it on the way back.  11 miles in my 7 min pace gave way to 7:20′s.  I continued to fade in the last three miles, running the 14th in 7:46, the 15th in 7:54.  I had to put together a finishing kick in the last mile (6:26) to finish in 1:55:42.  I did it, but it was by no means easy.

10k Race – Fairfax Five and Dime

I like doing some shorter races leading up to a marathon to “stay sharp” and get some faster miles in.  I signed up for this race in particular because it was in Fairfax, where I grew up, and it was small.  I knew I had a realistic shot of winning the race, but that of course depends on who shows up.

The race started, and I positioned myself behind a fit-looking guy in Newtons – I figured if he was serious enough about running to pay $150 on shoes, he’d be near the front of this race too.  We made an early turn, following a kid on a bike wearing a bright neon vest.  I thought we were going the wrong way.  Maybe I misread the map.  Obviously, the kid knows the route.  Some local high school cross country kids caught up to us.  That was fine by me.  I just wanted to stay in the lead pack and make a move later in the race.  A police officer on a motorcycle pulled in front of us.  A police escort?  Sweet.

“You guys weren’t supposed to make that first turn.  Follow Me”

I was right after all.  Now I didn’t know what was going to happen.  Maybe the officer was going to route us back on the course and we’d end up running a rather random distance, maybe more, maybe less, than a 10k.  Maybe we were just going to start the race over.  I was starting to loose ground on the cross country runners.  I didn’t know whether it would be worth the effort to keep up with them.  We soon came back toward the start, where we were told immediately to stop.

There was hysteria and confusion, no one sure who to blame for what happened.  The lead runners – myself included, for not following the instructions?  The kid on the bike for taking us out on the wrong course?  The police officer, who was stopping traffic at that first turn, but seemed to be pointing us to turn?  It didn’t matter.  It happened, and we were all there, ready to start again.  This time we promised to go straight unless we saw a chalk arrow pointing us to turn.  The police officer was also kind enough to escort us through the course this time.

The race started completely differently this time.  The guy with the Newtons suddenly couldn’t keep up.  Two of the cross country kids shot out of the gate and took the lead.  This time, there was no lead pack – it was every man for himself.  I worked my way up to the 2nd place runner, using an aggressive downhill acceleration to pass him.  I had my sights on the first place runner.  There was a margin, and I struggled to close in.  I figure I’d be able to pass him in the second lap if I stayed close in the first lap.

As we came up on the road that lead to the finish of the first lap, I still had the lead runner in my sights, but barely.  That’s when I saw him turn into the finish – he was just doing the 5k.  I suddenly found myself in the lead of a race, midway through it – the first time I’d ever been in the lead that far into any race.  I had no idea how far back my nearest competitor was.  I kept trying to push the pace, since I did not want to relinquish the lead and I wanted to run a good time.  I could sense my motivation dropping when I didn’t have anyone around to compete with.  Again I came up on that same road with the finish line in sight.  I sprinted to the finish, and broke the tape for the first time in a race ever.  I had blown away the field.

The victory was bittersweet, however, as my finishing time was 40:13, far slower than I was expecting.  I figured I’d at least be under 40 minutes, and was more optimistically hoping something in the 37 minute range.  Oh well, I’d still take the trophy anyway

So there you have it.  In the past couple of months, I’ve run a half marathon at a 2:53 marathon pace, I’ve run 16 miles at the pace I desire to run my marathon in, I’ve run a full marathon (save the .2) training run nearly as fast as my previous past marathon race time, I’m able to crank out miles in the mid 6′s at will, and I even won a small local race.  So why wouldn’t I be able run a Boston Qualifier Tomorrow?

If you want to see how I do, my time will be tweeted on my brand new twitter account: http://twitter.com/runningsoules

Clifton Caboose Twilight Run 5k  - May 30th

Yeah, it’s perhaps a little odd that I’m starting off with a small-town 5k, but I felt pretty good about this race.  I surprised myself in recovering from the aforementioned injury, and retained a great deal of speed.  I was coming in under 6 minutes in some of my mile repeats, so I thought a short race like a 5k would be ideal.  I hadn’t run a 5k race that I was really satisfied with because I generally don’t put a lot of effort into preparing for a 5k; they generally serve as quick training runs.  I ended up with a PR: 18:27 (5:56/mile), good for 2nd place in my age group, and 11th overall in the small field of 219.

Rosaryville 50k – July 12th

This may very well be my favorite all time race, both in terms of how fun the course was and how the race went for me. The race started on a major downhill on grass.  I took advantage, leaning forward and letting the hill carry me, knowing I didn’t have to worry about roots and rocks tripping me.  I quickly found myself in the front pack.  I assumed I was going too fast, but somehow foolishly tried to keep up.  I knew it wouldn’t last long, that I’d have to let them go, and I’d soon get swallowed up by the rest of the racers.  To my surprise, I never got passed after the first half hour of the race.

It was a looped course with a small out-and-back in the middle, so it was easy to gauge where your nearest opponents were.  By the first out and back, I could still see the top three racers.  By the second I could no longer see them, but still saw members of that initial lead pack.  By the third lap, the race had really thinned out.  I couldn’t see anyone ahead of me or behind me.  I still was in a very competitive mindset, and when I saw a group of young mountain bikers, I took it upon myself to pass them.  I did – on a downhill section.  It took a lot out of me, and maybe was again foolish, but I had to take any motivation at that point.

When I got to the turn around, I refilled my water at the aid station, and could see that my nearest competitor was not all that far behind me.  I knew I had to keep running hard to stay ahead of him.  In the last third of the final lap, I was starting to run out of gas.  I could hear my chaser’s footsteps echoing through the trees.  I tried to demoralize him by picking up the pace in more open sections, hoping that I’d just be out of the picture in time for him to not see me, or if he did see me, he’d see me going by at a pretty fast pace.  I was struggling to hold him off when I got to the final aid station, so I simply ran through it, back out onto the road straight to the finish.  He finished a great deal later, so I assume he stopped for aid.  Nevertheless, the motivation helped me finish with a great time.  4:49:37, 5th overall in a field of 40, and again 2nd in my age group.  I had never run this distance before, so it was  PR, but it’s one I feel pretty good about.

Supernova Track Classic – Aug 7th

I ran the mile here, first time I’ve competed in a race on a track since high school.  I came away with another PR, 5:24.  Not bad considering my training had been for much longer races, so I didn’t have a lot of low-end speedwork to prepare me.  I’d like to break 5:00 in the mile, maybe something I’ll try for this year.  I’d like to do more track meets in general; it’s a great way to develop speed.

Blue Crab Bolt 10k – Aug 15

I’m a huge fan of Ex2Adventures and the Backyard Burn trail racing series they put together twice a year.  They’ve now expanded their reach into Maryland, adding two 10k races in the summer, a series called the Blue Crab Bolt.  I made it out for the 2nd race in the series, hosted at Little Bennet Park.  Since it was the inaugural race, I wasn’t sure what level of competition to expect.  Usually at the start of a race you can pick out who’s going to be in that front pack.  I looked around, and didn’t see a whole lot of sure-front runners.  When the race started, I sensed some tentativeness in the whole field.  I quickly found myself drifting toward the front, where I still found the pace was a little slow for a 10k.  I knew I could run faster, so I got out into the front – first place – for the first time in any race ever.  It was early, and I was unfamiliar with the course, so I knew it wouldn’t last, nor did I want it to.  I quickly found someone willing to take over the lead position, and settled in behind him.  It was a pace I felt I could sustain, and apparently four other runners did too.

The course ended up being hillier than I anticipated, so the initial pace maybe really was about spot on.  I got passed by the remaining four runners in the lead pack on a moderate early hill.  I was used to taking hills easy from my ultra training.  In shorter distances it’s probably better to just charge up the hill, rather than conserving energy by slowing down.  Ultra running did, however teach me how to maximize my downhill runs, and I used this to propel me back into 5th place.  I again finished in this position (out of 202 finishers) , with a 47:13, and again 2nd in my age group.

Patrick Henry Half – Aug 29th

I managed to squeeze in this race while tapering for my main race for the year, the North Face 50 miler.  I had been running well in smaller races, so I was curious how I’d do in a bigger race with more competition.  I was also trying to set myself up for a marathon following the North Face race.  I targeted a sub-1:30 time, but was unable to reach that goal, finishing in 1:32:54.  This was good for yet another PR, 12th in my age group out of 87, and 43rd overall out of 1,271 finishers.  The 7:04 pace was well below the 7:15 I’d have to sustain for a full marathon to qualify for Boston.

North Face 50 mile – September 19th

This was the main race I was training for.  I had a lot of high expectations and confidence coming in to this race.  The Roasaryville 50k went well, I had put in training runs up to 9 hours on the actual North Face course, and had a couple of fast 20 mile runs on the Bull Run-Occoquan Trail.  I’ve found that that distance on that trail is a good predictor for road marathons.  One run I came in at 3:04:43, starting and finishing at the Centreville end of the trail.  A couple weeks later I started and finished at the Fountainhead end and came in at 3:16:49.  I felt my marathon fitness was probably somewhere under a 3:20, so I felt a 50 mile PR was certain, and that I should raise the bar even further.  My PR was a 10:55 I ran at JFK, but going into this race I thought it was perfectly reasonable that I could break 9 hours.

The beginning of the race was unforgettable:  running on a course lit only with glow sticks and our headlamps in the predawn hours.  We were running right alongside the Potomac River when the sun rose.  My familiarity with the course helped early on, when a lot of runners made wrong turns.  I was thirteen minutes ahead of a 9 hour pace fifteen miles into the course, and increased that margin to fifteen minutes after the first of three Great Falls loops.  By halfway, I was in the 4:10′s, on pace for a sub 8:30.  At the very least it was a wide cushion for a 9 hour run.  That’s when it started to unravel.

I could feel some tendinitis acting up in my left knee.  It’s a problem I’ve dealt with on and off since high school, but it hadn’t bothered me for a couple of years.  When it had, it was something I could work through.  Generally the strategy in an ultra is to take the uphills easy and make up time by charging down the downhill sections.  With me knee, I found myself reversing that strategy.  I could only walk downhill, but found that I could run the uphills without pain, though it was quite taxing.  I figured I’d work through the injury, it would go away, and I’d be back to normal eventually in the race.  In the meantime, I was losing a lot of energy due to this inefficient strategy.

The trip between Great Falls and the nearest aid station afterwards was the longest between aid stations – 6.7 miles.  Beforehand, I knew that this would make or break my race.  By the time I got to the aid station, with a little over over 8 miles to go, I knew my dream of a sub 9-hour race were well over.  I had resorted to walking for great stretches.  My knee was getting worse with every step, and I was utterly sapped of energy.

A few miles after the aid station, my knee finally started to feel better.  I could finally handle moderate downhills with some degree of speed.  I was desperate to make up time, and knew a big downhill section was coming up.  I let loose, flying downhill, only to foolishly deliver myself a final blow to my knee.  By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, it hurt even to walk.  I found another runner as foolish as myself – grimacing in pain at the bottom of the hill, unable to take a step forward.  We acknowledged our respective stupidity and determination to continue.

At hits point, I knew if I didn’t keep moving, I wouldn’t even break 10 hours.  This was my new goal, and I was going to get there no matter what.  Walking didn’t work, limping didn’t work, so I hopped on my right leg.  This worked, but was also very exhausting.  Runners passed me by asking if I was ok.  I told them I was fine.  The knee started to have some partial recoveries as I found myself cycling between limping, walking, and hopping.  With two miles left in the race, I knew I was close to the 10 hour mark, so I told myself to keep moving.  I speed-walked, and eventually coaxed myself back into a slow jog.  I was able to bring myself back to a run at the finish, were I came in at 9:55:20.  Another PR, 13th in my age group out of 48, 59th overall our of 191 finishers.

Aftermath

I had planned to run the North Central Trail marathon a couple of months after North Face.  I had a pretty good track record of recovering from ultras, so I figured I’d recover quickly, and with the kind of shape I’d gotten into, I’d finally have a Boston Qualifier.  But alas, in a year where I set 5 personal records (including a distance debut), I would not run a marathon.  Oddly enough, my foot hurt a great deal after the North Face 50.  My knee continued to be an issue, but my right foot, which I spent a lot of time hopping on in the final 7 miles of the race, was a stronger impediment.  It was likely a stress fracture or something similar.  I went to my chiropractor again, but alas, there was no quick fix for this injury.  I rested/cross trained for a couple of weeks and it eventually went away.  It was too late though, as I was not able to recover in time to get back to strong marathon form.  I figured my best bet was to just take a few weeks off, then start building toward a Spring race.

And that’s where I stand now, preparing yet again for the Frederick Marathon.

It was the culmination of all my training this year: an attempt at a Boston Qualifier on a fast, downhill course.  Coming off of my run at the Harrisburg marathon only a month earlier, I had some confidence going in – there I had run the BQ pace (7:15/mile, a 3:10 marathon)  through 13 miles, and wasn’t far from it through 16 miles (3:11 pace), before falling to a 3:14 pace at 20 mile, and hitting the wall there, dropping to finish at a 3:27.  It was a confidence builder, however, since it was the first time I held that pace for that long, and it was on a flat course.  Tucson is a notoriously downhill, fast, Boston Qualifier course, so I thought that the fitness gains I had made leading up to the race, combined with a more favorable course would be just enough to get me my BQ.  

I had one injury concern leading up to the race.  To prepare my body for the downhill course, I did some downhill repeats in the weeks leading up to it.  I knew it was a bit of a risk, but I thought to get a BQ, it was a risk I had to take.  It did not pay off, rather, I hurt my lower back, glutes & hamstring.   Thankfully, the hamstring trouble ending up going away pretty quickly, but the lower back & glute pain persisted.  I had some chiropractic adjustments, and curtailed some of my mileage, but it continued to be an on-off problem.   I went easy on a particularly important weekend – two weeks after Harrisburg, two weeks before Tucson, right in that sweet spot between recovering from one race and tapering for the next.  I did manage to get a good 8 mile long-tempo run in a week before the race, which went well.  I came in at a 57 mins, a 7:06 pace.  The miles came easy, and I finished strong, with my last mile in a 6:16.  Leading up to the race I went easy, but even a little 3 mile run on a treadmill was enough to aggravate it.  The injury on a whole was rather minor, not a lot of pain, rather, just some discomfort, but it can be hard to know how something will hold up after 26.2 miles, especially on a downhill course.  

The Race

The day began with my first and only complaint about the organization of the race – the burden of getting to the start.  The traffic getting to the shuttles that would take us to the start was just horrible, but not entirely unexpected.  Once we got there, we found the correct shuttle, and waited on the bus for forty minutes.  We ended up getting to the race start just 20 minutes before the start.  I typically like to have an hour, so I can use the rest room (takes a long time w/ those lines!) and warm up.  Of course, this wasn’t ideal, but I did have enough time to run around a little bit while shedding my warm up clothes, putting them in my drop bag, putting that on a drop bag bus, and to give some dry desert plants some much needed moisture

The race started, and I was right with the 3:10 pace group.  This was generally a strange feeling.  Strange, first of all, that there even was a 3:10 group.  Most races don’t have them.  Stranger, secondly, because I was actually keeping up with them.  I soon fell in to a pattern of passing/catching up to the group on downhills, keeping pace with them on the flats, and letting the group pull away a little bit on the uphills.  I was willing to take the pain that I knew would come from doing these downhills fast, and didn’t want to tax my energy early on the uphills.  Knowing this, I begun to strategize.  I knew that from miles 10-13 there would be some rolling hills before starting the massive descent (800 ft over 11 miles).  I decided I’d pull away from the group, especially on downhill and flat sections around mile 7, let them pass me during the rolling section, but stay close behind.  I’d then catch back up to them on the downhill section.  

Passing a 3:10 group seems like a tall order.   It came easier then I could have ever imagined.  I pushed forwad during this downhill section, passed the pace group at mile 6, and kept passing other runners.  I felt invincible.  I felt like I could run a 3:00 marathon.  I wasn’t too far off – I ran my first 9 miles in 1:04:14, which was a 7:08 min/mile pace, a 3:07:45 marathon pace.  I’m an experienced runner though, so I knew it wouldn’t last, and I knew it would be highly unwise to go any faster, if it even was to be going as fast as I was.  I kept the pace, and felt encouraged by how the race was going.  

Inevitably, the group caught me as we turned onto biosphere road, where the rolling hills started.  I tried to keep up with the group, but I had to let them pass me.  The hills certainly slowed me down in this section – after runing no slower then a 7:17 mile through my first 10 miles, my 11th mile was a 7:45, and my 12th mile was a 8:01.  I didn’t let it affect me, because I knew I had built in some padding, and that I was right on pace.  In the 13th mile, the descent started, and so did my resurgence.  I ran a 6:52 there, and was at a 1:34:05, enough for a 3:09:42 pace.  

The 11 mile downhill stretch from miles 13-24 is what I came out to Tuscon for.  A long decent at this stage of the race certainly makes things easier.  I was right on pace at mile 14, and had the pace group in my sites.  I wanted to catch up to them gradually, rather then make a sudden move that might just send me tumbling into oxygen debt.  Through 16 miles I was at a 3:09:31 pace, ahead of my Harrisburg time.  I kept the pace through miles 18 & 19, but was seriously starting to wonder how long I could keep it up.  The ubiquitous wall had hit me hard in each of my previous races somewhere around miles 20-23.   

At mile 20 I was still miraculously on pace.  2:24:38, a 3:09:36 pace.  It was truly amazing that my race pace at 13 miles, 16 miles, and 20 miles had only varied by only 11 seconds.  I knew the wall was coming, but I was also willing to fight it.  Having been there so many times before in just the past few months, I wanted to battle it again, and push past it.  It came, and it hit me hard.  My pace dropped from mile 20 at a 7:37 to a 8:39 at 21.  A BQ was still salvageable in terms of pace, but I was fading.  I tried to motivate myself by trying to keep up with other runners, but it was hopeless.  Mile 22 I dropped to a 9:20.  A runner with a pi symbol on his back passed me.  I knew I wasn’t going to run better then a 3:14…

When you’ve hit the wall in a marathon, your goals very quickly change.  At this point, I was hoping to just run under a 3:20, but I continued to fade.  I would pick up water at aid stations, though I didn’t need it.  I was perfectly hydrated.  I think my body knew that by picking up water I’d slow down a little bit, and thus grant it some mercy.  Mile 23 was a 10:07.  I kept telling myself to go faster, but my legs just wouldn’t respond.  The 3:20 group had passed me, without much of a fight from me.  Now I just wanted a personal record, something I had done in each of my marathons this year.  At mile 24 I came in a 10:48, and 25 I was completely done, a 12:25.  I just kept hanging on, knowing the end was near, and that I still had a shot at a PR.  I ran my last 1.2 miles in 12:19 (translates to about a 10 min mile), including my usual dash to the finish.  My overall time was a 3:28:11, 23 seconds off of my personal record.  

There’s always a swirl of emotions after finishing race.  You always feel good on some level, knowing what you have just accomplished.  Of course, physically, you feel exhausted, especially if you ran well.  It’s hard to even walk, especially down hills and stairs.  It’s even harder to pick things up from the ground.  After this race, I felt disappointed, just knowing how much I put into it all year, and how close I came, before falling apart.  My final time does not reveal just how close I came.  I still think of it as being on pace through 20 miles.  That’s a start.  I can say that I have done something amazing this year, and that the training adjustments I made really paid off.  I went from a personal record of a 3:54:59 to having run 4 races faster then a 3:36 in a period of 4 months, and have really put myself in reach for a Boston Qualifier.  Next up: Year end review/analysis of how I improved drastically, and how I intend on improving further.

Anyway, just thought I do a big recap of some of the key runs I’ve had in the past couple of months, as I start to get ready for my final marathon of the season.  

New Mexico Recovery/Transistion to Toronto Waterfront Marathon

I had a tough time recovering from New Mexico, mainly because I hadn’t quite built my mileage up before the race, and because the race had a lot of downhill.  This was a big concern with Toronto Waterfront only a month later.  In particular, I had a discouraging run just 2 weeks after New Mexico, suffering in the heat through 14 miles at over a 10 min/mile pace.  I started to grow pessimistic about my ability to recover in time for the next race.  Only three days later, however, I turned in a 34:06 for a 5 mi tempo run.  I had a pretty good track workout that week as well, coming at a 6:30 pace through 6 1 mile repeats w/ jogging rest, but had to cut the workout short with some injury concerns.  Fortunately, I give myself a lot of rest after doing speedwork, so nothing bad came of it.  

Toronto Waterfront Marathon – September 28th

With a 3:35 marathon under my belt, I wanted to make the next step towards my goal of a Boston qualifiing 3:10, so I decided I’d pace myself for a 3:20 for this race, even though I knew I could of paced myself for a 3:30 and come up well under.  It being an international marathon, there were only kilometer markers, and no mile markers.  I double-checked my math several times in the first half of the race, but ended up coming in at a little under 1:40, on a perfect pace for a 3:20.  I kept a pretty solid pace in the third quarter of the race, but in the final quarter I struggled.  I got confused and thought that a marathon was 44k – your mind is extremely easy to fool 20 miles into a race.  I got discouraged, and thought that not only was I not going to run a 3:20, I might not even beat my old time.  I tried to keep running well even in spite of it.   I was keeping ahead of the 3:30 group, and was surprised they had not passed me.  I kept looking out for them.  As I came up on the 39k mark, a spectator shouted “just 3k to go!” and then I realized, hey, he’s right, it is just 42.2k, not 44k.  I felt better knowing this, and tried to push hard toward the finish.  I had nothing left in me.  Then I heard a loud group of footsteps – the 3:30 group.  I fought to keep ahead of them.  I saw the 3:30 leader come up right next to me.  I knew I had to keep ahead of him to get that elusive sub-3:30 time.  He passed me in the final 1k.  

My final time was a 3:30:29.  I couldn’t help thinking if the course had mile marker instead of kilometers, that I would have come in under 3:30.  It was much like New Mexico.  I ran aggressively, and paid the price at the end, really suffering in the last 6 miles, and really slowing down.  I ran another personal record, but still came up well short of my goal.  With this time in books, I was pretty certain that I wouldn’t be able to qualify at the next race I had lined up, in Harrisburg, PA, a month an a half later, so I was seriously considering doing the fast, downhill Tucson Marathon in December.  

Toronto Waterfront Recovery/Harrisburg Transition

My recovery from the Tortonto Waterfront Marathon went a lot smoother then New Mexico.  Because I had done the distance recently, the 2nd marathon was less of a shock to my system.  The best evidence of this was 8 days after Toronto, I put in a good tempo run of 6 miles in  40:36.  I was encouraged by this and sought to achieve my goal of 16 miles in 1:56 a few days later.  This would have been a 7:15 pace, the same pace needed for a 3:10 marathon.  I came up well short in a 2:04, a 7:48 pace.  

The following weekend I had greater success in achieving my goals.  I did Yasso 800′s – 800m repeat, with 400m jogging rest.  The idea with these, if you haven’t heard from Runner’s World, is you do 10 of these and the average time in minutes and seconds will tell you what you can run a marathon in hour and minutes.  Naturally my goal was to hit them in a 3:10.  I felt that this was possible since I was hitting 6:20′s in my mile repeats.  I ran my first half conservatively, but kept them all under a 3:10.  I was very strong in my last two, hitting them in 2:55, and 2:56.  I averaged a 3:02.7.  Does this mean I can run a 3:02 Marathon?  I wish…I also heard that you may need to add 5 minutes for it to work.  3:07 would work for just fine for me too…

The week after that I ran in DC Road Runner’s predict-your-time 5 mile race.  I wanted to be aggressive here, so I put down 29:59 for my time, hoping that I could hit the amitious time.  I probably could have played it safe, but since I had been running faster then I’ve ever run before, I thought I was being reasonable.  I ran a 32:48…about what I would have predicted if I weren’t being aggressive…oh well.  

Harrisburg Marathon – November 9th

I really looked forward to this race, since it was the closest to home.  The drive was only a couple hours, and it sure beat driving to Toronto!  I also had more time to do a full taper leading up to it.  WIth this added rest, I again wanted to be ambitious.  I considered only for a second trying to pace myself for a 3:20, knowing that if I did, I would certainly come under it.  Instead, I decided to go for the BQ pace.  Either I’d hit it then, and Tucson would be nothing but a celebratory run (or a chance to push for a sub 3:00!), or I’d at least come close, and really set myself up for Tucson.  

I found the pace surpisingly easy early on.  My first mile was a 7:00 even.  This was a good sign, but I knew that I’d have to fight hard throughout this race to keep it up.  6:42 was my next mile.  My new record for fastest mile in a marathon…and this wasn’t downhill either!  It was certainly time to slow it down.  I settled into a grove, running just over the 7 min/mile pace.  Thriteen miles in, I came in at 1:34:07, a 3:09:30 pace.  Things were looking good, and it was feeling surprisingly easy.  After not being able to do my 16 mile run a few weeks prior in under 2 hours, I came in at 1:56:57, on pace for a 3:11:15.  I knew I was close, and told myself “I’m 10 miles away from Boston”.  

I tried to keep pace as we entered a park, which contained the only significant uphill of the course.  I was a little off the pace here (7:58, 8:10, 7:49), but I wasn’t completely out of it.  I knew I had to pick things up for a Boston qualifier, otherwise I was at least looking at a sub 3:20 performance.  Twenty miles in I was still holding a 3:14:22 pace.  I knew that this was when I started to drop off in previous races, so I just focused on a fellow race.  We kept battling.  He would start to pull away, and then I’d catch up to him.  We’d take turns differntly, but always end up side to side.  He slipped past me at a rest stop, and I couldn’t catch up to him.  That’s when a man in a tutu passed me.  Yeah, that was kind of weird.  I’d expect that in the back of the pack, but don’t expect someone to come flying past me in under a 3:20 pace, 21 miles into the race.  

Twenty Three miles in I was still on pace for a sub 3:20, in fact a 3:17:41.  I was determined not to have the same kind of fade I’ve had in previous races, but I had absolutely nothing left in the tank.  I kept moving, and kept telling myself to go faster, but my legs were not responding.  At this point I knew I was toast.  I ran some awful finals miles: 9:04, 9:52, 11:07, 11:13, and 2:01 in the last .2.  I had again faded at the end.  My final time was 3:27:48.  After being in 3:10 range for so long, I felt distraught that I had lost 10 mins of my time in the final 4 miles.  Once again, I ran my fastest time ever, but still felt disappointed.  

So, that’s everything, up until my last race.  More on how things have gone since then, and my preparations for Tucson are coming up.  Tucson is next week!  It’s mostly a downhill course, so I’m hoping I can finally get that 3:10!

I arrived on Friday in Albuquerque at 12:30AM, eight hours later then expected, due to bad weather at the Dallas Airport, and the ensuing flight cancellations.  I woke up the next morning at 5:30AM, with my jetlagged body thinking it was 7:30AM.  So I didn’t get a lot of sleep then, nor did I the night before the race because of the 3:45AM start.  

Talking to other runners, many of them were curtailing expectations for the race because of the high elevation (went up to 6100 ft), the hill at the beginning, the possibility of heat, and the early start.  I kept my expectations the same, shooting for a 3:30, even though my best time was a 3:54::59, and I had to deal with all those factors I just mentioned, and far less then an ideal amount of sleep.  I didn’t think the eleveation was high enough to be a factor, the downhill section would be steep and long enough to make up for the uphill, and I just kept reminding myself that my legs had not felt better before a race ever.  I was completly healthy, and wasn’t about to make any excuses, I just wanted to go out and run the race I knew I was capable of.

The race was to start at 5:30AM, so I took the earlier shuttle out there, and started my warm up and drills.  It’s the first time that I’ve actually done a warm up before a marathon.  I was hoping that this would help me run faster in my first 1-3 miles, rather then spending those warming up.  

The race started in the dark, on the far right lane of a desert highway.  There weren’t any pace groups, and people weren’t necessarily lining up in order of likely finish, since there were only 260 runners, so few that the starting position really didn’t make much of a difference.  With no sense of how fast I was going, I came through my first mile in 9:30.  This was slow, as I was hoping to keep an 8:15 going up the initial hill.  I started to hear the voice of common sense – it’s high altitude, it’s uphill, it’s the first mile of the race.  Then I told myself, “no, I’m not running that race”.  I’m going to run that 3:30, not settle for another 4 hour race.   I picked up the pace, but still had little sense of how much.  I didn’t see a mile marker #2, so I checked my watch after that, 7:30 pace for #2&3.  I had overcompensated.  I tried to slow it down, and settle into a good pace, but then I came in at a 9:22.  I didn’t feel like the early hills were all that steep or were taking a lot out of me, but I do think they were a big part of why my initial pace was so erratic.  

I started talking to runners, trying to figure out what kind of pace they intended to run.  I kept getting the same answer “oh, I’m just trying to finish”.  That made want to run faster…I wasn’t just looking to finish Today, I was looking to run a 3:30, and I wanted to be running with people that wanted to do the same.  I started to get into a groove as I was passing people, running an an 8:14 pace for miles 5 & 6.  That’s when I caught up to one runner in particular, who I also asked about expectations.  He gave me the usual answer, but also asked me if I was planning to run a 3:30.  Finally, I had a clue about where I was in the pack of runners.  

I kept pace with this runner, who I would come to know as Sergio, for a few miles.  We talked about his home town of Albuquerque, his 5 year running hiatus, how I lost 20 pounds, and the running stuff marathon veterans usually converse about while pounding the pavement.  The conversation put me at ease, and as we came to the end of the uphill section, the sun was rising, and we began the 8 mile descent, one of the main reasons for doing this race.  

I quickly made up ground.   I pulled away from Sergio, wanting to let gravity pull me forward.  I ran spectacularly fast miles, including a 6:47 10th mile, my fastest by far in a marathon.  This put me at just over a 3:30 pace.  By halfway, after more fast, downhilll miles, I pulled into a 3:26 pace.  I would be ecstatic if I could run that.  

Sergio caught up to me at a rest stop, and we started a patern.  I’d slow down at a rest stop, take a gel, he’d pass me, then I’d catch up to him, pass him, then slow down at a rest stop.  This was a great dynamic throughout the race, and really motivated both of us.

I kept it steady throughout the flat third quarter of the race, running sub 8 minute miles.  By mile 18 I noticed a slight slowdown to an 8:06, but would have been fine if I could sustain it.  I planned to take my fifth and final gel shot at 20 miles, forgo the remaning rest stops, and pick up the pace.  I ended up taking the gel at 19, since there was a rest stop there, and I didn’t know if I’d have one at 20.  There would be one at 20, and I tried to see if neglecting stopping there would be enough to increase my pace.  It wasn’t.  With 6.2 miles to go, I knew I just had to run faster and ignore the rest stops.  This had worked well for me in the past.  I came in the next mile at a 7:50, keeping me at a 3:28:05 pace.  At this point I knew a 3:30 was in my grasp, and that I’d shatter my PR no matter what happened.  I still wanted that sub-3:30.  

That’s when it all started to fall apart.  That 7:50 maybe was a little too fast, perhaps I overesitmated what I had left.  The next mile was an 8:30.  Fine, just keep it there, still could come in under 3:30.  The race was starting to take its toll, especially on my left groin, which had been hurting since mile 8.  I was starting to fade.  

9:08  If I could just keep it strong the last 3.2 miles…I’d have a sub 3:30…

9:32  People were passing me, a rarity in the late stages of a race.  I tried to fight back, tried to catch up, but it was hopeless…

10:36  We had long ago started passing the slower bunch of half marathoners.  At this point I had trouble keeping pace with some of them.  

I ran the final 1.2 in a 9:19 pace, sprinting, as always, to the finish.   

I felt like crap when it was all over.  I couldn’t walk, sit, eat, drink, go up or down a curb.  Really the worst I’ve felt since doing my first marathon.  It was great.  I ran a 3:35:41, beating my previous best time by nearly 20 minutes.  I place 2nd in my age group, and took home a beautiful prize (which fortunately survivied the flight home):

Originally I had thought about running a 7:15 pace for a long as I could hang on for, then just hanging on to finish.  I think that’s a little risky, certainly at this point in my training.  Instead, I’m hoping to keep a solid 8 minute pace, staying with the 3:30 pace group for at least the first 20 miles, then do an assesment.  I’ll see how I’m feeling.  If I’m feeling well, I’ll make a move, charge ahead of the group, and run the remainder of the race solo.  Otherwise I’ll try to hang on with the 3:30 group until the end.  In either case, I should shatter my previous marathon PR (3:54:59).  I think if I can do this, it will be a big confidence boost, and will validate how I’m training.

I’m happy with how my training has gone lately,  particularly in the past couple of weeks, where I’ve put in a 1:29:36 12 miler (7:27 pace), a 30:18 4.5 mile race on trail (6:44), a good set of 8 800m repeats w/ 400m rest (all at or under 3:15), and a memorable run on the Appalachian Trail where I somehow was able to run the second half of my run, which was uphill, faster then the first downhill half.  The only question mark is if I’ve put in enough miles.  Because I’ve been doing my long runs on the Appalachian Trail, including some very hilly rocky sections, and doing my runs based on time, not distance, my longest long run has been only 15 miles.  This run took me three and a half hours.  That’s just how much the conditions of the trail slow me down.  I’m hoping that the length of time and the mental toughness forged on the trail will be a good trade-off over mileage.  This race will be the test.

There were a ton of runners out there Today… maybe because of the gloomy-but great weather, or maybe it’s just that time of year where more runners start popping up on trails, training for fall races.  I saw a few runners go by while I was warming up, probably from the Ashburn Running club, and wondered if I’d be able to catch up with them during my run.  Motivated by this, the good weather, and the need to prove to myself that I was faster then the times I had been running this summer, I ran a quick first 1.5 miles, all of it under a 7 minute pace.  During my runs in the normal summer heat, I’d struggle to get out to a good start.  Satieted by this start, and feeling good, I then decided I’d slow it down a little bit.  I knew I had 12 miles to run Today, and I knew my body wouldn’t be quite used to the faster pace.  I also figured it may start to warm up later.  I got into a good rhythm running about a 7:30-7:40 pace (really should start keep track of mile splits…).  I started passing runners left and right.  I even caught up with one runner who I saw with a pair of Newtons.  Unfortunately I caught him at the end of his run, so I didn’t get to ask him how he liked them

As I approached halfway through my run, I wondered how long I’d be able to sustain this pace.  It certainly felt like the runs I was doing last spring, which were some of my best training runs of my life, but again, I wasn’t sure how my body would respond to the faster pace, after running a snail’s pace all summer long.    I tried to keep it together as I turned around, and tried to hold a good pace until 3 miles to go, where I’d pick up the pace.  When I got to that point, my left groin, a troublesome spot for me the past couple years, started to feel strained.  Since my hamstring injury came on a run like this, and when my groin was bothering me, I backed off the pace.  I think I very reasonable could have run a negative split, or at least a sub-1:30 time if I picked it up even a little bit in the last 3 miles, but prudence over valor, as they say, and I still ended up with a respectable 1:30:49, a 7:34 pace.

To put things in perspective, in my half marathon last Spring, I came in at 1:38:20, a 7:30 pace.  I’m usually a lot faster in races, so the fact that I’m even close to running that is a good sign, even if injury kept me from training much leading up to the race.  My goal this week was to run a 1:33, and two week later run a 1:31 at 12 miles, but I’ve already done that.  If there’s good weather two weeks from now, may be able to press for sub 1:30.  In any case, I’m well on my way toward my next goals, 14 in 1:45 (7:30 pace), 16 in 1:56 (7:15).  My hope is that if I can sustan a 7:15 pace through a 16 mile training run, I’ll be able to hold it for a full marathan if I come into it well rested.

Good weather helped me run a good time Today, hopefully that means even better times come Fall, when a day like this is the norm.