Today was day four of the Savage Seven. I skipped day one, so for me, it was my third
consecutive race in this series. After
yesterday’s race, I committed to a goal of breaking four hours again. I suffered through an ice bath. I didn’t want that to be for nothing.
I remember the first time I did a five day series. That was the New England Challenge, which
coincidentally was also organized by Chuck Savage. My goal was to break four hours every
day. The first two days were fairly
easy. The third day wasn’t. Five miles into the race, I was already
struggling to stay on pace. Then I asked
myself how badly I wanted it. I expected
today to be like that.
One problem I had in the New England Challenge was lack of
sleep. The races all started at 5:00 AM,
and I just wasn’t getting to bed early enough to get a full night’s sleep. By the third day, it caught up to me.
For this series, I’ve done a good job of adapting to an
early-to-bed, early-to-rise schedule.
Last night, I got close to eight hours of sleep. My alarm woke me up, so it was tough getting
shaking the cobwebs loose, but by the time I left the hotel, I was feeling more
alert.
My legs were another matter.
My quads were sore and stiff. My
Achilles tendons were tight. I had to do
some stretching. I didn’t know how
everything would feel once I started running.
I just had to wait and see.
As I drove to the race venue, it was drizzling. It stopped just as I got there. It was 70 degrees with 100 percent humidity,
but we were supposed to have more periods of rain. It was warmer than yesterday, but I assumed
the rain would cancel out the warmer temperatures.
After my scare yesterday, I started today’s race with fresh
batteries in my flashlight. Before the
race, I tried to turn on my flashlight, to see how bright it was with the new
batteries. It didn’t turn on. I pressed the button again, but it still didn’t
turn on. I checked to see if anything
was loose. On my third try, it came on.
I didn’t need the light until the race started, so I turned
it off. Then I decided to turn it on
again, just to test it. Again, it took
two or three tries before it turned on.
Not wanting to take any chances, I left it on this time.
I had noticed earlier that the safety pins holding my race
bib were rusty after using them for only two days. That had to be from the humid
conditions. I wondered if moisture inside
my flashlight was causing a problem. I
made a mental note to check for rusty connections after the race. For now, I just had to hope that it would
work long enough to get me through the first lap.
As I started running, the drizzle returned. Now that I was moving, I didn’t have to worry
about getting cold. I was glad the
drizzle stopped for the brief period before we started running. Standing around in the rain isn’t fun.
I noticed some soreness in my legs, but no worse than yesterday. I used the initial out-and-back to get warmed
up. I didn’t worry too much about my pace. As I started my first full lap, I looked at my
watch. The half mile out-and-back took
4:30, which was about the right pace for a four hour marathon.
With the wet conditions, I wondered if the course markings
would dissolve. They weren’t as bold and
bright as usual, but you could see them.
The shape of the arrows was still distinct enough. I kept my eyes glued to the pavement to make
sure I saw every course marking.
About a half mile into my first lap, I started having
trouble seeing through my glasses. The
lenses were getting covered with small drops.
After another mile, I had to take them off and put them into my fanny
pack.
The most important turn is the one where you leave the 5K
loop to start the long out-and-back that takes you to the farthest point on the
course. Yesterday, during daylight, I
made sure I would recognize this turn.
We turn right, but there’s a small brown sign indicating you bear left
to stay on the 5K loop. When I got to
this turn, I saw the white arrow pointing to the right, but also made a point of
looking for the brown sign. When I saw
it, I knew for sure I was starting the out-and-back. That meant there wouldn’t be any more turns
until just before the aid station. For
the next mile, I didn’t need to worry about missing a turn.
When I got to the aid station at the end of the out-and-back,
the volunteer told me there weren’t any cups.
There was a big Gatorade jug with a spigot, so I cupped my hand and used
it to catch some Gatorade from the spigot.
I did that three or four times.
Normally, that would have left me with a sticky hand for the rest of the
race, but the rain quickly rinsed away the Gatorade.
I checked my watch as I left the aid station. I didn’t check my time yesterday, but I was
two minutes faster today than I was on Friday.
The most important turn coming back is the first one, where
you leave the road to get back onto the paved trail. As I was about to make that turn, I stepped
in a puddle. After that, I made a point
of watching for puddles in addition to the course markings.
On my way back, I easily recognized all the turns. By the end of the first lap, the sky was
beginning to lighten. I could now see
the trees and other landmarks around me.
The light was still fairly dim, but I no longer needed my flashlight. I turned it off and put it in my fanny pack. It was tough to find room for both the
flashlight and the sunglasses.
When I finished my first lap, I checked my time. I was three
minutes faster than yesterday. That
meant I was already five minutes ahead of a four hour pace. I was surprised how easily I was running at
that pace. I suspect the constant drizzle
was keeping me cool, so I wasn’t expending as much energy. On the other hand, my clothes and shoes were
now wet. The extra weight of the wet
shoes would cause me to expend extra energy.
For now the rain seemed to be helping, but I wasn’t sure if it would
eventually slow me down.
As usual, I told myself to relax. I didn’t need to be running that fast. I was pleased, however, that it wasn’t a struggle.
In my second lap, there should have been plenty of
light. It was daylight now, but the rain
and clouds limited the amount of light reaching the ground. It still seemed like twilight.
On my first lap, I gradually caught up to all the people
doing the half marathon or 50K race.
Then on my way back, I saw all the other people doing the marathon. On my second lap, I wasn’t seeing anyone
until I got to the out-and-back section. Then, finally, I saw people near the back of
the pack, who were still coming back from the aid station at the far end.
When I got to the far aid station again, they still didn’t
have any cups. I used my hand again. It wasn’t convenient, but it worked. I forgot to check my time. I knew I was ahead of my target pace, so I
was content to wait until the end of the lap.
On my way back, I was finally noticing more light. It was still overcast and drizzly, but now it
seemed like daytime.
Toward the end of my second lap, the drizzle stopped. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. At the end of that lap, I finally checked my
time. I was two minutes faster than
yesterday. I was flying.
I told myself again to relax. Realizing that never works, I tried something
different. I told myself, “Keep up the
good work, but don’t push it.” That
message seemed to sink in. I’m always
reluctant to deliberately slow down.
Deep down, I’m afraid I’ll slow down too much, and then I won’t be able
to get back on pace again.
It wasn’t long before the drizzle returned. I still wasn’t sure if that was good or
bad. It would start and stop several
times before the end of the race.
When I got to the far aid station again, they finally had
some cups. After drinking some Gatorade,
I checked my watch. I was on pace for
about 3:49. That was faster than the
previous two days, but not by that much.
I was much farther ahead of yesterday’s pace at the beginning of the
lap. Did I slow down? I had to think about it for a while, but I
eventually realized I had run that half lap at exactly the right pace for a
four hour marathon. I didn’t lose any
time. I just didn’t put any more time in
the bank. That was good news.
It helped to know I was more than half done, but I still
didn’t feel confident enough. I’d feel
more confident when I just had two laps to go.
I tweaked the message. Now I told
myself, “Keep working, but don’t push it too much.”
After three laps, I was a minute faster than yesterday and
two minutes faster than Friday. I was
pleased to be having such an easy time of it, but I didn’t want to run too fast
today and then have sore muscles tomorrow.
As I started my fourth lap, I told myself, “Float through the next half
lap and check your time at the other end.”
At first that worked.
I was maybe a mile into my fourth lap, when I felt something
odd in my left shoe. It seemed like my insole
might be moving. That often happens in
wet conditions. I have a hard plastic
orthotic. I wear a foam insole over it. The insole is flexible enough that it can
fold. When moisture gets between the
insole and orthotic, the insole can easily slide forward and bunch up under my
forefoot. I wasn’t sure at first, but
then I could feel it bunching up under my toes.
Now, finally, I had an opinion about the rain. It wasn’t helping.
It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable. It distracted me from my “Float through the
next half lap” message. I wanted to
hurry up and be done.
I wanted to stop and fix it, but I would need a place to sit
down. Right on cue, I saw a bench. I didn’t remember seeing this bench on any of
my other laps. It was like it magically
appeared when I thought of it. I still
didn’t stop. I certainly had enough
time, but I knew from experience that the insole would begin slipping again
within a few minutes. Any time I spent trying to fix it would be wasted. I just had to do my best to tune out the
discomfort. It’s not the first time this
has happened.
After about 10 minutes, the discomfort lessened. I knew better than to think the insole had
shifted back into position, but it seemed like it shifted in a way that made it
less uncomfortable. I could live with
that.
At the midpoint of my fourth lap, I was back to being on the
same pace as yesterday. What should I
tell myself now? I considered, “Float
through this one and check your time again with a lap to go.” I considered, “Push hard through this one, and
you can float through the whole last lap.”
I considered, “Keep working, but don’t push it.” I finally settled on “Keep running and don’t
overthink it.”
It had been drizzling off and on. It started up again, but quickly changed from
drizzle to a steady rain. I could feel
my clothes clinging to me. I was worried
there’d be more puddles. I had an
opinion about the stronger rain. I didn’t
like it. Fortunately, it only lasted for
a few minutes.
One of the runners who has been encouraging me is Justin Gillette. Justin is an elite
runner. He’s won more than 100
marathons, and most of his wins are in larger races like Marathon Bahamas and the
St. Jude Memphis Marathon. I feel
honored that Justin knows who I am. Justin will be in town for tomorrow’s race. (Spoiler alert: I probably won’t win tomorrow.)
As I started my last lap, I checked my watch. With one lap to go, my time was about the same
as the last two days. I had 57 minutes
to run 5.14 miles. Easy peasy.
I wanted to tell myself to just go easy for the last lap. Knowing Justin was rooting for me made me
want to finish strong. That wouldn’t be
smart, however. Today’s sub4 finish was
already in the bag. The race I needed to
worry about is tomorrow’s race. I
compromised and decided to just maintain my current effort.
When I reached the far aid station, I stopped long enough to
drink a large cup of Gatorade. I checked
my watch. If I maintained the same pace
coming back, I would run even splits. As
I resumed running, I felt stiffness in a few different muscles. That was enough to persuade me to go easy on
the last half lap.
With only a mile to go, It started raining harder
again. Seriously? It couldn’t wait until I was done? I pressed on, and the rain stopped before I
finished. Then it started drizzling
again. I’ve never seen such fickle
weather.
I finished in 3:49:33.
I ran positive splits, but by less than a minute. I was the overall winner for the third day in
a row.
I didn’t eat much in the finish area, because I didn’t want
to stand around in the rain. I had
chocolate milk and cinnamon bread back at the hotel.
Before leaving, I told JC that I’ll be attempting to run my
250th sub4 tomorrow. Now that he knows
that, he’ll include it in his pre-race announcements. Everyone will be cheering for me, but now the
pressure is on.
Now that I was no longer moving, my wet clothes made me get
cold. By the time I got back to the hotel,
my hands were white. I was expecting to
have a “How badly do you want it?” moment today. I did, but it wasn’t during the race. It was after the race. I had to decide whether I was taking another
ice bath today. I really didn’t want to,
but I knew I needed to.
I hate ice baths. My
friend Francis says they’re evil. I don’t
think they’re evil, but they’re certainly unpleasant. I can only think of one reason why anyone
would take one. They work! The really help with delayed onset muscle
soreness.
I could make excuses.
I was already experiencing Raynaud’s in my hands. I usually follow an ice bath by hopping in
the hot tub, but it’s outside and it was still raining. Oh, in case I forgot to mention it, I HATE ICE
BATHS.
How badly do I want to break four hours tomorrow? Badly enough that I took another ice bath. Then I took a warm bath and massaged my
legs. For the rest of the day, I’ll go
out of my way to make sure I’m using my legs, so they don’t get stiff. Tomorrow won’t be easy, but I’m doing
everything I can to make sure I won’t wake up feeling like I was run over by a
truck.
The last thing I needed to do was inspect my
flashlight. The batteries and contacts
are dry. I tested it, and it seems to be
working. All I can do now is go have
some pizza.
Race Statistics
Distance: 26.2 miles
Time: 3:49:33
Average Pace: 8:45
Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:
397
Sub 4 Hour Marathons:
249
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