Race Report: Atlantic City Marathon

On October 23, I ran the Atlantic City Marathon.  This was the first time I’ve done this race.  In fact, it was the first time I’ve been to Atlantic City.  I’m working on a fourth circuit of marathons in all 50 states, and this was my fourth New Jersey marathon.

I associate Atlantic City with the board game, Monopoly.  The names of the properties in that game were taken from streets found in Atlantic City, as well as the railroad lines that existed at the time.  A good portion of the marathon is run on the boardwalk.  I couldn’t resist staying at a hotel on Park Place.

I flew to Philadelphia on Saturday, rented a car, and drove the rest of the way.  The drive took about an hour.  I stayed at The Claridge Hotel, which was only a short walk from where the race starts.  Technically, it has an Indiana Avenue address, but you enter the parking ramp from Park Place.

Monopoly has a Free Parking space, but that space is a long way from Boardwalk.  That’s also how it is in Atlantic City.  If you want to find free parking, it won’t be close to the boardwalk.  I had to pay $10 a day to park in the hotel ramp.  I didn’t see any other ramps that were less expensive.

Packet pickup was held at Bally’s Atlantic City Hotel & Casino.  Often, when a race is held on a Sunday, the expo closes at early as 5:00.  This expo was open until 8:00, so I didn’t have to stress too much about getting there on time.  After checking in at The Claridge, I walked over to Bally’s to pick up my race packet.

Like most casinos, Bally’s is huge.  I knew which ballroom the expo was in, but I had to ask an employee for directions.  When I got my race packet, I was surprised to see that the T-shirt said, “Finisher,” even though we got it before finishing the race.

After getting my race packet, I stopped at The Claridge to drop off my race packet.  Then I walked over to the boardwalk to see how it would be as a running surface.  It’s mostly a runnable surface, but I could see spots where I could potentially trip.

I was hoping to go to a beer tasting event at The Yard, which is an atrium outside of Bally’s.  Their website said they would be having them every Saturday in October, but they’re right next to the starting line for the marathon, and setup for the race got in the way of setting up for their beer tasting event.  I saw their menu included pizza, so I still ate dinner there.

The remnants of a tropical storm moving up the coast brought rain and strong winds on the morning of the race.  It wasn’t raining yet when the race started, but I knew it would probably start raining before we finished.  I brought a plastic rain poncho with me, but I kept it folded up in my fanny pack until I needed it.

I was planning to wear shorts, but I made a last-minute decision to wear tights instead.  The temperature was in the 50s, but I was expecting wind speeds of 15-20 MPH.  I thought the wind would feel much colder that it did.  In retrospect, wearing tights was a mistake.

There were several members of 50sub4 doing the race.  We met for a group photo half an hour before the race started.

The race started on the boardwalk.  I didn’t pay any attention to other runners or to my pace.  I looked down the whole time, to make sure I didn’t catch my foot on any cracks or uneven spots.  We only ran on the boardwalk for about two minutes before turning onto a paved street.  Once I was on smooth pavement, I could finally look around more.

I was right behind they 4:10 pace group.  That’s similar to the pace of my last two marathons, so I thought it would be reasonable to run that pace until we got back to the boardwalk.

The first eight miles had a lot of turns, going back and forth through the northeast corner of the city.  There were a few bridges, which were the only hills on the course.  There was also a tunnel.

Going through the tunnel, I was sheltered from the wind.  Without any wind resistance, the pace suddenly felt easier.  For the first time, I found myself getting ahead of the 4:10 group.  It was also in the tunnel that I first started to feel hot.  Tights felt OK when I was out on the open, but without the wind, I felt overdressed.

When I got out of the tunnel, I noticed the pavement was wet.  I didn’t feel any drops yet, but it was raining lightly.

The early miles had lots of turns, so I felt the wind from different directions.  When I was going into the wind, I felt like I was dressed about right, but it took more effort to stay with the 4:10 group.  When the wind was at my back, the pace felt easy, but I started to get hot.

Running back and forth through the northern part of the city, we were almost always within sight of two or three of the large casinos.  I’ve never been to Atlantic City before, but it reminded me of Las Vegas.

After eight miles, we reached the northern end of the boardwalk.  Next, we ran the entire length of the boardwalk, which is about five miles long.  I had every intention of slowing down on this section.  My only goal at this point was to get through the next five miles without tripping.  Most of the boardwalk has good footing, but every now and then, I would see a board that wasn’t flush with the others.  There were large bolts holding the boards in place.  Most of them were flush with the wood, but a few stuck out a little.  They only stuck out by a millimeter or two, but that’s enough that I could catch my shoe on one.

All the way along the boardwalk, I looked down.  I didn’t dare take my eyes off my footing, even for a second.  As a result, I couldn’t see where I was.  That made this section seem much longer than it was.

Surprisingly, I didn’t slow down on the boardwalk.  The wind was at our backs, so I found I could pay close attention to my footing, yet still easily keep up with the 4:10 group.

The 4:10 pace group was led by Keith Straw.  I’ve seen Keith at other races before.  He’s an accomplished ultrarunner.  Because I was looking down, I didn’t see any of the mile markers.  I had to ask Keith what mile we were at.

I never really noticed when the rain picked up, but I noticed the boards were completely wet.  Wherever the runners ahead of me had stepped, I saw footprints with small bubbles.  I never felt like my clothes were that wet, so I never felt the need to put on my rain poncho.

The boardwalk goes through Atlantic City and Ventnor City.  Just before the halfway mark, we reached the southern end of the boardwalk and moved onto Atlantic Avenue.  I never noticed the banner for the halfway mark, so I didn’t look at my watch.  Keith said we were right on pace for 4:10, so our halfway split was about 2:05.

After we got onto Atlantic Avenue, I noticed the rain seemed to be letting up.  Before long, it wasn't raining at all, and the streets began to dry out.  I never needed my rain poncho.  If I had known most of the rain would come while we had a tailwind, I wouldn't have worn tights.

We continued southwest on Atlantic Avenue through Margate City and Longport until we reached The Point.  At one of the aid stations, I slowed down to drink some Gatorade, and I briefly fell behind the group.  It took an effort to catch up again.  We still had the wind at our backs, but soon we would turn around and face a headwind.  I knew maintaining this pace would be much more difficult when we were going into the wind.

About a mile before the turnaround, I started to see runners coming back from The Point.  I saw the 3:30 pace group.  A couple minutes later, I saw the 3:35 pace group.  Then the 3:40 pace group.  I commented to Keith that there were a lot of pace groups.  He said they had them in five-minute increments, starting with 3:15.  I’ve never seen a race with this many pace groups.

The turnaround was just before 16 miles.  As soon as I turned around, I felt the headwind.  I had mixed feelings about that.  On one hand, I knew it would be tiring running into the wind.  On the other hand, I had been feeling overdressed for several miles.  I really needed the cooling effect of the headwind.

Going around two quick turns, I briefly fell behind the pace group.  When I was right behind them, the other runners blocked some of the wind.  As I started to fall behind, I had to fight the headwind by myself.  Then catching up became much more difficult.  I had to give up on that pace and run the rest of the race by myself.

Between 17 and 21 miles, we left Atlantic Avenue to run an out-and-back section through Margate City.  On this section, I felt the wind from different directions, but I was still falling farther behind the 4:10 group.  Interestingly enough, I was started to pass other runners.  It seems like everyone around me was also struggling.  I was slowing down, but many of the other runners were slowing down more.

Somewhere between 18 and 19 miles, I started to notice a scraping sound.  With every stride, I could hear my left shoe scraping against the pavement.  If it wasn’t for the sound, I might not have noticed.  It was never the right shoe, only the left.  I obviously had some kind of imbalance in my stride.

If I worked at picking up my feet, I could prevent the scraping, but it took more effort, and I was already getting tired.  I knew this would be a problem when I got back to the boardwalk, but I resigned myself to having an inefficient stride until then.

The last time I saw the 4:10 group was near the end of the 20th mile.  I could see them in the distance, about two blocks ahead of me.  They were just passing the 20 mile banner.  I was still pretty close to them at 17 miles.  In the three miles since then, I had already fallen behind by two blocks.

Just past 21 miles, I finished the out-and-back section and turned onto Atlantic Avenue again.  I immediate felt the headwind, which seemed to be stronger now.  I knew I would be running into that wind for the rest of the race.

When I’m getting fatigued, I usually find it helpful to segment the remaining miles, so I can focus on one segment at a time.  For almost two miles, my goal was to get back to the boardwalk.  When I was almost there, I wondered why I was looking forward to it.  I was already struggling, but soon I would also have the mental fatigue of paying close attention to my footing on every stride.

As I got back onto the boardwalk, I made some adjustments to my stride.  I starting taking shorter steps.  I was too tired to increase my cadence, so shorter strides meant slowing down.  I also started picking up my feet more.  I never once heard or felt my shoe scraping on any of the boards.

Just before the 23 mile banner, I was passed by the 4:15 pace group.  I expected them to pass me sooner or later.  I was actually surprised it took this long.

The last three miles seemed to take forever.  Fighting the wind was physically tiring, and paying such close attention to my footing was mentally draining.  If there a bright side, it’s that I didn’t feel hot any more.

When I first got onto the boardwalk, the boards were dry, but it wasn’t long before I started to notice small drops.  It was drizzling.  Earlier, I never felt wet.  That’s probably because the wind was mostly at my back, and I was overdressed.  Now my clothes started to feel wet, and the wind made me feel cold for the first time in the race.

Because I didn’t dare look up, I rarely knew where I was.  I didn’t feel like I was making any progress.  I only saw the boards right in front of me.  I had no larger perspective.  That made those last few miles seem to take forever.

With about a mile to go, I started to hear what sounded like a group of runners behind me.  Eventually, one pulled alongside of me.  He was holding a 4:20 sign.  I didn’t want to be passed by another pace group, so I picked up my pace to stay ahead of them.

The last mile was a balancing act.  I did everything I could to pick up my pace, but I didn’t want to get careless.  My number one goal was still to finish the race without tripping on anything.

I stayed ahead of them the rest of the way.  I passed two runners on the approach to the finish line, and I finished in 4:19:44.  It’s always disappointing to run positive splits by almost 10 minutes, but I had to remind myself that I was actually planning to go much slower than that.  If you had asked me before the race to predict my time, I probably would’ve said 4:30.

After the race, I ate a banana.  Then I headed to The Yard to get my free post-race beer.  They were temporarily out of beer, so I had to settle for a hard seltzer instead.  I brought it to the food court, where I knew I could get a slice of Sicilian-style pizza.

When I got back to my hotel room, my fingers were turning white.  For most of the race, I felt like I was too hot, but now I was cold.  I spent a long time in the shower before the color returned to my hands.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll have to drive back to Philadelphia and fly home.  Until then, I have one more night in Atlantic City.  It’s time to find a good place to eat dinner.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:19:44

Average Pace:  9:54

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  468

New Jersey Marathons:  4

Race Report: 2022 Chicago Marathon

On October 9, I ran the Chicago Marathon.  It’s the fifth time I’ve done this race.  It’s one of the six World Marathon Majors.  Unlike London and Tokyo, it’s not difficult to get into the race.  Unlike Boston and New York City, it doesn’t have difficult logistics.  When I signed up, I knew I’d be giving up the opportunity to do one of the other good October races, but there’s another reason I come back to Chicago so often.

It's no secret that pizza is my favorite food.  I especially like Chicago-style pizza.  When I travel to Chicago for the marathon, I know I’ll also have a few opportunities to enjoy deep dish or stuffed pizza.

Chicago hotels are expensive, so I only spent two nights in Chicago.  With that in mind, I booked the earliest flight I could get.  I wanted to arrive in plenty of time for lunch, so I could enjoy one extra pizza meal.

When I registered for the race, I booked a room at the Doubletree hotel near Navy pier.  Most of the hotels near Grant Park were either fully booked or had blocks of rooms that were reserved.  Two weeks before the race, Deb suggested that I should check if any of the closer hotels had a cancellation.  Surprisingly, I was able to get a room at the Hilton.  The Doubletree is a reasonably close hotel, but no hotel is more convenient than the Hilton.  It’s right across the street from Grant Park  The rate was expensive, but I had enough Hilton points to get two free nights using my points.

I took the train into town from the airport.  The tickets had a special design for the weekend of the marathon.

I got to the Hilton by 10:00.  I was expecting to have to check my bags until a room was ready, but my room was ready when I arrived.  I took my time unpacking and settling in until it was time for lunch.

My room was on the west side of the building, and I was on a high floor.  When I raised the shade, I had this view.

The Hilton is an older hotel, so it has older style elevators.  The panels don’t have enough buttons for every floor, so different elevators go to different floors.  When I checked in, they told me which bank of elevators would go to my floor.  I’ve stayed at the Palmer House before, and it’s the same way.

I’ve been to several of the good Chicago-style pizza places already.  One of the best for deep-dish pizza is Lou Malnati’s.  One of their locations was just two blocks from the Hilton, so I went there for lunch.

I finished eating lunch in time to join some other runners for a group photo in front of Cloud Gate (a.k.a. “The Bean”) in Millennium Park.  One of the runners I met there also needed to go to the expo, so we went together.

The expo was at McCormick Place.  We walked over to the Hilton, thinking we could take a bus from there.  In the past, the Hilton was one of the hotels with buses to the expo.  When we got to the Hilton, we found out that there aren’t any buses this year, but someone forgot to update that on the website for the marathon.

You can take a train part of the way to McCormick Place, but you still have to walk about a mile.  Before we decided how we were going to get there, another runner who was taking a taxi to McCormick Place asked us if we wanted to share his taxi.  Splitting the fare three ways, it only cost five dollars each, and it was much quicker.

The two of us went through the expo together, first picking up our race packets and then visiting some of the booths.  One booth I always visit is the Goose Island booth, where they have free beer samples.

Both of us were staying in hotels near Grant Park, so we decided to walk back.  It was only two miles, and it was mostly through parks.  Our route took us past Soldier Field and the Field Museum, and through the south end of Grant Park.

After getting back to the hotel, I went through the contents of my race packet.  One of the product samples was a drink mix powder.  I was thirsty after all that walking, so I mixed it in a water bottle that I was keeping in the fridge.  It didn’t mix well with water that was refrigerated.  I mixed it as best I could, drank about half and left the rest for later.  The package said it was a protein drink, but it tasted more like Gatorade.

Next, I organized my clothes for the race, and picked up some food for breakfast in the hotel store.  Then I had an early dinner.

For dinner, I was hoping to go to Edwardo’s Natural Pizza, which specializes in stuffed pizza.  Then I found out that they’re only doing take-out and delivery.  Instead, I went to Giordano’s, which also has stuffed pizza.  They don’t take reservations, and there were lots of people already waiting for tables.  One advantage of dining alone is that I was able to get a seat at the bar without waiting.  While I was there, I had a wonderful conversation with three runners from Italy who sat down next to me.

Deciding how to dress for the race was tricky.  On the morning of the race, the temperature was in the low 40s.  With the wind, it felt like upper 30s. By the time I finished, however, it would get up to 60.   My legs don’t respond well to cooler temperatures, so I dressed for the conditions at the start, knowing I would get hot toward the end of the race.

When the temperature is below 50 degrees, I wear tights to keep my legs warm.  Since I was wearing tights, I opted to wear my cheetah ensemble.  This race has large crowds, and that outfit always gets lots of reactions from the spectators.

The marathon starts and finishes in Grant Park.  They have a gear check in the park, but I opted to wear throwaway clothes so I wouldn’t have to bother with the gear check.  To keep warm until the race started, I wore one of those ponchos that they give you when you finish the New York City Marathon.  I have two, so I didn’t mind leaving one behind.  My hotel was right next to the park, so I wasn’t worried about having warm clothes after the race.

I was in the second wave, which didn’t start until 8:00 AM.  The race organizers recommended getting to Grant Park two hours early.  Six years ago, I learned the hard way what happens if you wait until the last minute.  You take so long getting through the security checkpoint that you don’t have time to make a bathroom stop.  This year, I took that recommendation more seriously.

I left the hotel at 5:45.  Apparently, the wheelchair athletes were all staying at the Hilton.  At the same time I was leaving, several of the wheelchairs athletes were being escorted to the start area.

If you arrive too late, it can take 30 minutes to get through the security checkpoint.  If you’re early, you can get through in just a few minutes.  That was my experience this year.  After getting through the security checkpoint, I made my way to Buckingham Fountain.  I knew from past experience that there are benches there.  I didn’t want to spend two hours on my feet.

Most of the benches were already taken by runners who arrived even earlier because they were in the first wave,  I eventually found a spot to sit, and I spend the next 45 minutes talking to the runners next to me.  One was from Chicago.  The other was from Copenhagen,

As it got closer to 7:00, I got in line for the port-o-potties.  I was surprised how long the lines were.  It took more than 20 minutes.  When I was done, I started walking to my start corral.  They close the corrals 15 minutes before the start of the wave.  It didn’t take as long as I expected to get to me corral, so I was there more than 30 minutes before my wave started.

While I was in the start corral, I saw a runner wearing a zebra outfit.  I went over to him, showed him what I was wearing, and told him he better run fast, because I was higher on the food chain.

The first wave started at 7:30, but they waited 15 more minutes before moving the runners in my wave closer to the starting line.  I assume they were waiting until after they closed the entrance to the corrals.

We moved up closer to the starting line a little at a time.  I waited until I could see the starting line before taking off my poncho and tossing it over the fence.  Most of the other runners were also discarding warm-up layers shortly before the start.  Dozens of volunteers with large plastic bags were gathering up the clothes.  I assume everything got donated.

There was a large sound system near the starting line.  When they weren’t doing announcements, they were playing music.  I don’t recall most of it, but I remember what they played just before the start of my wave.

With two minutes to go, they started playing an instrumental called “Sirius” by the Alan Parsons Project.  That’s the music they always play before a Chicago Bulls game, as they’re introducing the starting lineup.  The crowd of runners got quiet.  I’m sure most of them, like me, were suddenly filled with anticipation.  It was about to get real.

During my last race, I experienced soreness in my lower back late in the race.  It was worse in the evening.  I didn’t understand why my back was so sore until I saw my race photos.  Almost all of them showed me leaning backwards as I ran, causing me to arch my lower back.  I suspect that was related to my running with an abnormally short stride and striking the ground differently.  For this race, I chose to run with a more natural stride.

The point of the shorter stride was to reduce the strain on an injured hamstring tendon in my left leg. During the week, I iced that area frequently, and I mostly rested.  I only ran once.  I knew running with a natural stride would be harder on that tendon, but I was hoping I had recovered enough that I could get away with it.

There were four corrals for my wave.  Mine was in front, so I didn’t have as many runners in front of me as I usually do.  The runners in the first wave started 30 minutes earlier, so those runners were already miles ahead of us.  As I started running, I was surprised how easily I could run whatever pace I wanted.  I wasn’t held back by thousands of runners who were starting slow because there was no room to run.  I quickly realized that I could easily start too fast if I wasn’t careful.

Early in the first mile, we crossed a bridge over the Chicago River.  The bridge surface was a steel grate, but the middle of the bridge was covered with carpet, so we had a better running surface.  I moved to the middle of the street, so I could run on the carpet.

After crossing the bridge, I moved gradually to the left, knowing we would have a left turn soon.  Navigating the turns is usually nerve-wracking, as we’re usually packed in like sardines in the early miles.  This year, it wasn’t bad.  Being in the first corral of my wave made a big difference.

The tall buildings in downtown Chicago can reflect GPS signals.  If you rely on a GPS watch to know your pace, you can get some misleading data.  I wore a plain stopwatch and checked my time when I passed the mile markers.  After one mile, I saw that I started way too fast.  I ran that mile in less than nine minutes.

If I was running that fast, then all the people around me were running that fast too.  I’m often influenced by the runners around me.  I tend to run with the herd.  If I continued to do that, I would continue to run too fast.

Early in the second mile, we made another left turn.  Then we got to an aid station.  I skipped this one, knowing that we would have aid stations every mile for the rest of the race.  Skipping the first one made it easier to avoid bumping into people as they moved to the side of the street to grab cups of water or Gatorade.

I was trying to disconnect myself from the runners around me, but I didn’t do a very good job.  My second mile wasn’t quite as fast as my first mile, but it was still under nine minutes.

Early in the third mile, we had two more sharp turns.  After those turns, I knew we would be heading north for several miles, and there wouldn’t be as many turns.  I finally focused on running my own pace and starting to drift back in relation to the runners around me.  I ran the third mile in 9:18.  That wasn’t as fast as the first two miles, but it was still faster than I ran in my last race.  Last weekend, my mile times mostly ranged between 9:25 and 9:35.

Early in the fourth mile, I reached the second aid station.  After slowing to a walk to drink a cup of Gatorade, I resumed running.  That gave me an opportunity to adjust my pace.  Instead of resuming my previous pace, I made a conscious effort to establish a pace that wasn’t as fast as the runners around me.  I overcompensated, slowing all the way to 9:38 in that mile.

Early in the next mile, a large pace group caught up to me.  It was the 3:50 group.  They must have started the race behind me.  I matched my pace to theirs just long enough to see what it felt like.  Then I drifted back behind them.  Although I only ran with them briefly, it caused me to run a little bit faster for the rest of that mile.  I got my pace back to the 9:20s, which is about where I wanted it to be.

All along the course, there were banners attached to the street posts.  As we ran by the Lincoln Park Zoo, I saw banners that had a pattern similar to the clothes I was wearing.  It made me feel like I found my home.

I never noticed the sign for six miles, so I didn’t check my pace again until I finished seven.  I sped up significantly in those two miles, averaging 9:07.  The pace didn’t feel sustainable.  In recent races, I’ve been running with a short rapid stride, which always feels tiring.  I think I got accustomed to feeling tired, even in the early miles of a race.  In the race, I had a much more natural stride.  It felt much easier, but I was now going so fast, that it felt just as tiring as my last race.

In the eighth mile, we reached the northernmost point on the course and made a left turn.  Then we crossed a timing mat.  They had timing mats every 5K, but this one was in the middle of the eighth mile, which was an odd location.  I think it was there to ensure nobody cut the course.

Before the end of that mile, we turned again and started heading south.  Over the next several miles, we would gradually make our way back to the downtown area.  I was finally feeling warm enough to take off my gloves.  For now, I was comfortable, but I worried that I would get hot in the second half of the race.

I ran my ninth mile in 9:11, and I started to get overconfident.  Two weeks ago, I ran at a pace that started feeling tiring after only about eight miles.  Amazingly, I kept up that pace for the whole race.  Last week, my pace felt tiring after only five miles.  I nevertheless kept up that pace until the last few miles.  That not how it usually works.  In general, you should never find the pace to be tiring in the first half of the race.

I found the pace to be tiring.  It didn’t feel sustainable, but my recent experiences gave me confidence that I could do it again.  I kept up roughly the same pace for the next two miles.

Somewhere around nine or ten miles, I heard someone shout my name.  I looked to my right, but it’s hard to spot someone in a large crowd of spectators as you’re running by.  Also, I was on the opposite side of the street.  From where I was on the course, I’m guessing it was my friend Eliot.  He lives on the north side, and I knew he wasn’t running the marathon this year.

Coming back into the downtown area, there were more turns than I remembered.  I lost track of where I was in the city.  In the next few miles, I didn’t have good situational awareness.  We crossed more bridges that had a steel grate surface.  There was carpet, but only a narrow strip on the right.  On two of the bridges, I was on the left side of the street as we approached the bridge and then had to slow down to cross over to the right side to get onto the carpet.

Through 11 miles, I was averaging about 9:10 per mile.  It seemed like a slam dunk that I would reach the halfway mark in two hours.  In miles 12 and 13, I averaged 9:23 per mile.  The bridges slowed me down a little, but that wasn’t the whole story.  I was beginning to find the faster pace too difficult to sustain.

In the next mile, I was on the left side of the street as I reached an aid station, and I had to slow down to cross over to the right side in time to grab a cup of Gatorade.  They had water and Gatorade on both sides of the street, but I’m right-handed, so I wanted to grab the cup with my right hand.  Knowing that, I shouldn’t have let myself drift over to the left side of the street.  Again, I had poor situational awareness.

In mile 13, I slowed to 9:38.  It was obvious at that point that I wouldn’t run the first half in two hours.  I got there in 2:00:50.  I couldn’t reasonably expect to finish the race in four hours, yet I was disappointed that I didn’t run the first half in two hours.

I expected to slow down in the second half.  I was a little worried that my fast pace would break me, and I was even more worried that I would get hot.  I was dressed for 40 degrees.  It was already in the 50s, and it would get up to 60 by the time I finished.  I didn’t know when I would start to feel hot, but I knew it would be a factor at some point.  I was hopeful that I could break 4:05, but I knew I would have to really work for it.

I was passed by another pace group.  It was another 3:50 group.  To be catching up to me this late in the race, they must’ve crossed the starting lane about six minutes after I did.  That seemed plausible, but only if they started in the last corral of wave two.

Occasionally, a spectator would dart across the street when they saw a large enough gap between runners.  One guy tried to do that, but he was crossing right in front of me.  I had to come almost to a stop to keep from running into him.  Making such an abrupt adjustment to my stride caused some soreness in my left hamstring tendon.  Before that, I had barely noticed it.  It feels OK when I maintain a nice consistent rhythm, but sudden starts or stops can still make it feel sore.

In mile 14, I put in enough effort to get my pace back down to 9:25.  My goal at this point was to keep my pace for the remaining miles below 9:30.  If I could do that, I would break 4:05.

By now, I wasn’t the only one who was slowing down.  Most runners were.  I started looking for the runners who looked the strongest, and I forced myself to keep up with them.  In the next mile, I sped up to 9:19.  That would be the last time that I got under 9:20.

We were now headed east toward downtown.  In front of me, I could see the tallest building in the city.  I knew we would turn before we got there, but it gave me something to focus on.

Along this street, I saw signs indicating we were on the historic Route 66.  Route 66 used to run from Chicago to Los Angeles.  I’ve seen similar signs while running races in Tulsa and Albuquerque.  I’ve also seen the sign where the highway ended, near Santa Monica Pier.

I faltered in mile 16, slowing into the 9:30s again.  Then I picked out a runner who I kept seeing moving up through the field, and I tried to catch up to her.  That enabled me to get my pace down to 9:23 in mile 17.  I worked hard to catch up to her and then suddenly she slowed down.  I went right by her, and I no longer had a rabbit to chase.

In the second half of the race, we ran through several ethnic neighborhoods.  I didn’t recognize all of them, but I noticed a Greek neighborhood, a Mexican neighborhood, and an Italian neighborhood.  We zigzagged west and back east a couple of times.  By the time I reached the Italian neighborhood, we were headed back east for the last time.

Mile 18 would be the last one where I still kept up the pace I needed to break 4:05.  In the next mile, I could feel myself slowing down.  I neglected to look at my watch at the 19-mile mark.  When I got to 20, I saw that I had slowed to an average pace of 9:53 in those two miles.  Someone in the crowd was playing “Gangnam Style.”  That briefly energized me, but I never got back to my previous pace.

With 10K to go, I had to adjust my goals.  To beat the time from my last race, I just needed to average 10 minutes per mile.  That sounded easy, but my previous two miles weren’t much faster that that.  I had to stop the hemorrhaging. 

As I neared the end of the 21st mile, I was approaching a bridge.  I saw the runners ahead of me all veering toward the right.  I followed them.  It wasn’t until I reached the bridge that I noticed this was another one where you wanted to run on the carpet, and it was only on the right side.

The bridge was a small hill.  I worked hard to keep from slowing down.  I actually picked up the pace a little in that mile.  I got back into the 9:40s.

Before the race, the announcer told us we would run through 29 neighborhoods.  Of those, my favorite was Chinatown.  We entered Chinatown somewhere between 21 and 22 miles.  Chinatown is the most easily recognizable neighborhood, and it always has great crowds.  I ran that mile a few seconds faster than the previous one.

As we reached Michigan Avenue, I saw runners heading north, but first we had to turn right and head south.  Shortly after making the turn, I saw the 24 sign, but it was on the opposite side of the street.  We would have to run south for almost a mile before turned and heading back.

Ahead of me, I saw a runner with a sign on his back.  It said his name was Edwin, and this was his first marathon.  I wanted to catch up to him, so I could say something encouraging.  I tried, but he was too fast for me.  Then we reached an aid station, and he stopped briefly to stretch.  I cheered him on as I slowed down to grab a cup of Gatorade.

Before long, Edwin caught up to me again.  For the rest of the race, we leapfrogged.  He was running a little bit faster, but he would sometimes stop to stretch.  When he passed me, I would tell him he was not only running a marathon, but he was running faster than a cheetah.

In mile 23, I slowed to 9:56.  I was slowing down, but I was doing what I needed to do to beat my time from last week.  That was my only goal at this point.

We turned and ran one block farter east before turning again to head north.  At the southernmost point in the race, I crossed another timing mat that didn’t correspond to a multiple of 5K.  Again, I assume it was there to make sure everyone was running the whole route.  They didn’t need to add an extra timing mat at the easternmost point, because that’s where the 25K point was.

After the next turn, I was passed by another pace group.  This one was a 3:55 group.  I was barely on pace to break 4:09.  Why was a 3:55 group passing me this late in the race?  How far back did they line up?

As we got back on Michigan Avenue, I tried to avoid looking at the street signs.  I didn’t want to know how many blocks it was to get back to Grant Park.  I knew it was a high enough number to feel intimidating.

When I got to the 24 sign, I was a bit disheartened to see that I slowed to 10:15.  I did the math and realized that I would beat my time from last week if I just held that pace for the last 2.2 miles.

I felt like I had a devil whispering in one ear and an angel whispering in the other.  The devil was telling me that I didn’t have to push as hard – that I could just coast in, and I would still probably beat the time from my last race.  Then the angel told me that I couldn’t afford to slack off.  To be sure I wouldn’t slow down, I had to keep pushing hard to the end.  At first, I listened to the devil.  Then I listened to the angel.

I heard another song that energized me.  It was “Rich Girl” by Gwen Stefani.  The lyrics mention Harajuku girls.  That put a smile on my face, because I was wearing a hat and tights that I bought in Harajuku.

It wasn’t just hard to maintain my pace.  At this point, it was hard to maintain my effort.  I was breathing much harder.  I didn’t feel hot, but in retrospect, I was probably overheating.  By now, it was 60 degrees, and we had sunny skies.  I was way overdressed.  I wasn’t consciously aware that I was overheating, but probably only because I was so focused on how tiring the pace felt.

Just before crossing a bridge, I accidentally noticed one of the street signs.  I was crossing 25th Street.  We would continue on Michigan Avenue until Roosevelt, which is equivalent to 11th.  I had to continue on Michigan for 14 more blocks before turning.  After crossing the bridge, I reached 24th Street.  The blocks were short, but I was running out of gas.

At 25 miles, I saw that I had brought my pace back under 10 minutes.  The devil in one ear whispered that I could slow to an 11 pace and still beat my time from last week’s Twin Cities Marathon.  Then the angel in the other ear told me I could break 4:08 if I maintained a 10 pace.  I listened to the angel again.

This is one of the few races where there a sign at one mile to go.  That gave me a chance to do another time check and see exactly what pace I needed to break 4:08.  That last mile seemed to take forever, but it helped that there was also a sign for 800 meters to go.  I knew at that point that I would break 4:08.

When I turned onto Roosevelt, I knew I had to climb a ramp up to a bridge over some railroad tracks.  Everyone dreads that ramp.  It’s not a big hill by any stretch of the imagination, but it comes at a time when you’re out of gas.  I couldn’t quite hold my pace, but I did the best I could.

After cresting that hill, I made the final turn and saw the finish line.  With just 100 meters to go, I caught my left toe in a wide crack between two sections of concrete.  I was thrown off-balance briefly.  I didn’t fall, but I shouldn’t even have to tell you where I felt it.  Yup.  The proximal hamstring tendon in my left leg.  I just can’t get through a whole race without doing something to aggravate it.

It only hurt momentarily, and I didn’t have too much farther to run.  I crossed the line in 4:07:57.  My time last weekend was 4:09:36.  My goal before the race started was to beat that time by at least a minute.  I did it the hard way, but I still did it.

I could’ve been discouraged by how badly I struggled in the late miles.  I ran positive splits by six minutes.  Instead, I felt good about my race.  I had a goal, I started too fast, I got greedy, and I had a wake-up call.  At the end of the day, however, I still beat my original goal.  With better pacing, I probably could’ve run about three minutes faster.  That gives me something to shoot for in my next race.  Breaking 4:05 is a realistic goal.  I just have to be more disciplined about my pacing.

They change the design of the finisher medals every year.  Usually, they showcase one Chicago landmark.  This year’s medal had a little of everything.

I could see Edwin was ahead of me as I made the last turn, but I lost sight of him after finishing.  I wanted to congratulate him, but I never saw him again.

I was selective about post-race food.  I ate a banana, and I picked up a couple other snacks to eat when I got back to the hotel.  Then I made my way to the end of the finisher chute to get my post-race beer.  They always have it in a commemorative can for the marathon.

You can’t take alcohol out of Grant Park, so I had to find a place to sit down while I drank my beer.  I was so full of Gatorade, that I could only drink a sip at a time.  When I was done, I made a bathroom stop and then walked back to the Hilton.

After I got cleaned up and did some stretches, I went to a post-race party at Eliot’s House.  I saw a couple runners I knew, and I met several others.  I enjoyed the conversations so much that I lost track of time.  Before I knew it, it was already dinner time.

Of the Chicago-style pizza restaurants that are frequently recommended, the only one I had never been to before was Pequod’s.  After the party, I was only a few blocks away from one of their locations, so I went there for dinner.  I got there later than I planned, so they were already busy.  For the second time this weekend, I was able to get a seat at the bar because I was dining alone.  After having their deep-dish pizza, Pequod’s is now my favorite pizzeria in Chicago.

Sunday night, I woke up a couple times feeling thirsty.  I probably got dehydrated.  The first time, I went back to bed without drinking anything.  The second time, I felt even more thirsty, so I went to get something to drink.  I still had half a bottle of that protein drink from my race packet, so I drank the rest of it.  Then I drank some water.

I tried to get back to sleep, but I had too much food and beverage in my stomach.  I couldn’t get comfortable.  After tossing and turning for the next hour, I had to rush to the bathroom.  I had a sudden attack of diarrhea.

After that, I never got back to sleep.  For the next two hours I rested in bed, but I had to make two more trips to the bathroom.  It’s possible that my digestive system was just fragile from the combination of exertion and overheating.  It occurred to me, however, that the protein drink was probably supposed to be refrigerated.  I left it out at room temperature for more than a day.  I didn’t know if I had food poisoning, so I was hesitant to eat or drink anything else until I was sure my digestive system had stabilized.

Thankfully, I didn’t have an early flight.  I was able to spend most of the morning in my hotel room.  I lost a lot of fluid, so it was important to rehydrate, but I waited until I was feeling better and did it gradually.  In lieu of breakfast, I ate a few snacks that I had in my room.

If I got there when they opened, I would’ve had time to have lunch at Lou Malnati’s before leaving for the airport.  That was the original plan, but I wanted to wait a little longer before putting that much food in my stomach.  Instead, I went to the airport early and ate lunch there.  Eating at the airport was more difficult than I thought.  Half of the restaurants were closed, and the ones that were open had limited seating.  I eventually found an open seat at one.  It wasn’t as good as Lou’s pizza, but it allowed me wait longer before eating.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:07:57

Average Pace:  9:27

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  467

World Marathon Majors:  23

Race Report: 2022 Twin Cities Marathon

On October 2, I ran the Twin Cities Marathon.  Lately, I’ve been running marathons every other weekend.  This was going to be an off weekend, but it’s hard to pass up a hometown race, and this is one of my favorites.

When I signed up for the race, I was cautiously optimistic that I would be healthy enough that I could run on consecutive weekends.  My sciatica has improved significantly, but I keep re-injuring the proximal hamstring tendon in my left leg.  It was showing improvement before the Tallinn Marathon, but I aggravated it when another runner stepped on the back of my left heel, just as I was lifting my foot.

I rested for the next week, and that really helped.  It felt better in the week leading up to the Heartland Marathon, but then I had another mishap.  During that race, I tripped on some uneven pavement and absorbed a lot of shock as I struggled to keep my feet under me.

Since that race, I’ve been icing it and getting more rest.  I only ran once during the week.  My plan for this race was to pace myself according to how my left leg felt.  I expected a little soreness, but I wanted to find a pace that didn’t seem to make it any worse.

In the meantime, I had an epidural steroid injection for my sciatica.  It hasn’t bothered me as much lately, but I still notice it.  I suspect the synovial cyst in my L5/S1 joint had already partially drained, but this injection should help significantly with any inflammation around this nerve.  I had the injection on Friday.  They wanted me to rest for the remainder of the day.  I asked them if it would be OK to run on Sunday.  The doctor said if I could run a marathon a week ago, there was no reason I couldn’t run one this weekend.

I waited until Saturday to pick up my race packet.  Packet pickup was at River Center in downtown St. Paul.  In addition to a long sleeve T-shirts, the race packet included a hat.  The T-shirt and hat each had designs noting that this was the 40th anniversary for this race.  It was my 14th, so I’ve run about a third of them.

I went to the expo just before lunch, so I could have lunch at Cossetta’s, which is a few blocks away.

One of the side-effects of the injection I had on Friday is insomnia.  I didn’t get much sleep Friday night, so I took it easy most of the day on Saturday.  I went to bed early that night.  I slept better than I did on Friday, but I had to get up pretty early.

The race starts in downtown Minneapolis and finishes in downtown St. Paul.  The race organizers discourage driving to the start.  Instead, they want you to take the transportation they provide.  You can ride the light rail for free by showing your race bib.  Alternatively, they provided buses from two of the hotels in downtown St. Paul.

One of the places I could catch a bus was the Radisson.  There’s a large parking lot next door where I’ve always parked in the past.  They charged $30 for event parking on race day.  I didn’t remember it being that expensive, but it’s been a few years since I last ran this race.  I didn’t have a backup plan, so I paid the $30 dollars.

I could’ve walked to the nearest light rail station, but catching a bus at the Radisson gave me an opportunity to go inside and use their bathroom before boarding the bus.

I was expecting a long line to board the buses, but people were getting onto buses almost as fast as they showed up.  I was on a bus and on my way within a few minutes.  As the crow flies, it’s only 10 miles from downtown St. Paul to downtown Minneapolis.  It didn’t take very long to get there.

The race starts on the eastern edge of the downtown area, next to the football stadium.  Once we were dropped off, there wasn’t any place to go inside to stay warm.  The race provided a gear check, so I wore warm layers and waited as long as possible before checking my gear bag.

The temperature at the start was 55 degrees.  That’s great weather for running, but I expected to feel cold once I took off my warm-ups.  Surprisingly, I didn’t.  There wasn’t any wind as we were waiting to start.

I was assigned to the second of three start corrals.  The first corral started at 8:00 AM.  My corral started six minutes later, so it wasn’t a long wait.  As I crossed the line and started running, I forced myself to take short rapid steps.  I’ve found that shortening my stride eases the discomfort in my left leg.  It’s not my natural stride, so it’s hard to keep it up.  The only way I can force myself to keep my stride consistently short is to maintain a fast cadence, which is tiring.

I didn’t have a good feel for how fast I was running.  The rapid cadence made it seem like I was running fast, but my stride was so short that I easily could’ve been going slow.  I didn’t know for sure until I finished the first mile.  I ran it in 9:36.  That’s pretty close to the pace I ran in my last race, but that was with a more natural stride.  Running that pace with such a short stride was more tiring.  I had doubts about sustaining that pace.

Anytime you’re running in a large race, it takes a few minutes to settle into your pace.  Before that, it’s too crowded, and you’re held back by people in front of you who haven’t reached their pace yet.  As a result, my time for the first mile was misleading.  I started that mile slower and finished it faster.  That became apparent when I saw the time for my second mile.  I ran than one in 9:15.

I knew that pace was too fast, but slowing down wasn’t easy.  I had difficulty slowing down while maintaining a fast cadence.  It didn’t help that I was starting a downhill section as we got close to Kenwood Park.  I wanted to slow down, but I actually sped up in that mile.  I ran it in 8:54, which was clearly much too fast.

Before long, we reached the chain of lakes in southwest Minneapolis.  The road here wasn’t as wide, and I sometimes found myself boxed in behind a few runners who weren’t going as fast.  I used that to my advantage.  Rather than try to get around them, I forced myself to stay behind them.  In was never long, though, before I found myself out in the open again.  There was an ebb and flow to my pace, but I gradually moderated my pace.  Over the next few miles, I slowed down to 9:05, then 9:15, then 9:25, and finally 9:35.  When I got to 9:35, I stopped slowing down.  That pace still felt tiring, but it didn’t seem ridiculously fast.

Running around the lakes, I found myself instinctively running the tangents.  I’m so familiar with these parkways that I never needed to look ahead to see when a turn was coming.  I just knew.  I could’ve run this part of the course with my eyes shut.  Besides running this race 14 times, I’ve also run numerous shorter races around these same lakes.

After seven miles, my pace stabilized in a narrow range.  For the next eight miles, I was never faster than 9:25 or slower than 9:35.  The pace didn’t feel sustainable, but I was doing what I had to.  My top priority was running in a manner that didn’t aggravate my injured hamstring tendon.  I knew I risked running out of gas later, but that was a lesser concern.

After leaving the lakes, we ran along Minnehaha Parkway.  The next few miles had some small hills.  Here, I found it easier to maintain a short stride.  Going up a hill, I naturally shorten my stride.  It’s like shifting into a lower gear.  Going downhill, I take short rapid steps to lessen the impact.

When we ran under the Nicollet Avenue bridge, there were drummers set up under the bridge on both sides of the road.  That brought back a memory of my first marathon, which was also on this course.  Under this same bridge, a four-piece brass band was playing the theme from The Muppets.  Musicians always set up under the bridges, so they can stay dry if it happens to be a rainy day.  That wasn’t a concern today.

At 11 miles, we briefly left Minnehaha Parkway to run a lap around Lake Nokomis.  This lake used to be the site of the FANS 24-hour race.  Over the years, I’ve logged more than 800 miles around this lake.  I’ll always feel at home there.

The Minnesota Vikings were playing the New Orleans Saints today, but the game was played in England.  Over there, it was an afternoon game, but in our time zone, the game started at 8:30 AM.  I was about halfway around Lake Nokomis when I heard a spectator say that the Vikings were winning 13-7 at halftime.

When I reached the halfway mark, I was more than two minutes faster than I was in my last race.  I was on pace to break 4:10.  It occurred to me that I never saw the 4:10 pace group.  I’m pretty sure they were lined up somewhere in front of me, so I should’ve passed them by now.  Maybe I passed them early in the race, and it was so crowded that I didn’t notice them.

I didn’t expect to break 4:10 today.  I wasn’t even confident that I would break 4:15.  Since the early miles, the pace had felt tiring.  Your pace should never feel tiring in the first half of a marathon.

Most of the aid stations had water and Nuun.  Just past the halfway mark, I reached one that also had pickle juice.  It might not sound appetizing, but I drank a glass of pickle juice.  For the first half of the race, it was cloudy.  Now the sun was coming out.  I expected the temperature to warm into the mid-60s, so the salt in the pickle juice might be just what my body needed as it got warmer.

When we got back onto Minnehaha Parkway, I found myself working harder to stay on pace.  That wasn’t a conscious decision.  I just did it.  I brought my shoulders forward and started driving with my knees.  As I did that, I realized I wasn’t maintaining the same fast cadence.  Realizing I was letting my stride get longer, I worked hard to force myself back into a faster cadence with shorter strides.

From time to time, I compared how I felt today with how I felt at the same point in my last race.  I felt like I was working harder than I should be at this point, but I recalled feeling the same way 14 miles into my last race.  For the first time, I had a faint glimmer of hope that I might be able to keep up this effort for 12 more miles.

When I drank at the aid stations, I usually slowed to a walk for a few seconds and then quickly resumed my previous pace.  At 15 miles, I started to notice most of the runners ahead of me were also walking through the aid station, but they weren’t as quick to start running again.  I had to get around them and look for the people who were still running.  Then I had to match their pace.

It was getting warmer, and I started to notice more and more of the runners around me were either walking or slowing down.  I could no longer rely on anyone around me to run a consistent pace.  I had to do it on my own.  I had to keep lifting my effort to stay on pace.  That often meant gradually moving past most of the people around me.

I was running north along the west bank of the Mississippi River.  When I ran under the Lake Street Bridge, I knew it was only one more mile to the Franklin Avenue Bridge.  That’s where we would cross the Mississippi.  I could no longer think about all the remaining miles.  I had to segment the course.  My immediate goal was to stay on pace until the Franklin Avenue Bridge.

When I finally got to Franklin, I had to go up a ramp to get to the bridge.  It was tiring, but I worked hard to sustain the same pace.  As I neared the bridge, my watch recorded a split.  Despite the ramp, I ran that mile in 9:25.  I was getting tired, but I was still keeping up the pace.

As I crossed the bridge, I heard a large group of spectators cheering loudly.  The cheering seemed to follow me as I crossed the bridge.  I looked to my right and saw about 30 young men running across the bridge on the sidewalk, while continuing to cheer.  It turns out they were all cheering for one runner, and that runner happened to be just in front of me.

After crossing the bridge, I saw the number “3” painted in the street.  That was the three mile mark for the 10-mile race, which started 40 minutes before the marathon.  Both races start in downtown Minneapolis, and they share the same finish line in St. Paul.  The 10-mile race takes a direct route, while the marathon takes the scenic route.

I had seven miles to go.  Up until now, our route had been somewhat circuitous, but the last seven miles would be much more direct.  Knowing that made the remaining distance seem more manageable.

As I came off the bridge, I reached another aid station.  The cup I grabbed was fairly full, so it took a few extra seconds to drink it all.  I was concerned that I would have difficulty getting back to my previous pace.  It helped that the next mile was slightly downhill.

Now I was running south along the east bank of the Mississippi.  For one mile, it was relatively easy.  Then I started a three-mile section that’s slightly uphill.

Mile 21 has a slight uphill trend, but it’s not that noticeable.  I put a little more effort into maintaining my pace.  Despite my effort, I slowed to 9:38.  That was my slowest mile so far, but only by a few seconds.

Mile 22 has a more noticeable hill.  There’s a point where you turn away from the river and run up a long gradual hill.  I saw a lot of people walking on this hill.  In the past, I’ve sometimes walked part of it.  Today, I was determined not to slow down any more than I had to.  I knew I’d slow down a little, but it wouldn’t be for lack of effort.

As I neared the top of the hill, I saw some of the buildings of the University of St. Thomas.  Then I made the right turn onto Cretin and the left turn onto Summit Avenue.  When I finished mile 22, I saw that I slowed down by another five seconds.  That wasn’t bad.

It was shortly after turning onto Summit Avenue that I noticed how much the balls of my feet hurt.  It didn’t feel like I had blisters.  There was soreness all the way across the ball of each foot.  After thinking about it for a second, I realized why they hurt so much.

I’m normally a heal striker.  I make contact with my heal and then shift my weight to the front of my foot.  Because I was keeping my stride so short, I was making contact farther forward.  I was striking the ground with the balls of my feet.  I’ve never run like this for an entire marathon, so it’s not surprising that my feet would hurt.  Late in the race, my painful feet slowed me down as much as my fatigue.

The next mile, along Summit Avenue, is also uphill, but only slightly.  Earlier in the race, you wouldn’t notice, but I was already tired.  I tried hard to regain my pace in this mile, but I couldn’t do it.  I slowed down to 9:59 in that mile.

I knew exactly where the high point was on Summit Avenue.  As I got there, I knew the rest of the course was be much flatter, and in some sections, it would be downhill.  I was running out of gas, but I fought hard to bring my pace back down.

It occurred to me that the Vikings-Saints game might be done by now.  Right on cue, I heard someone in the crowd say the Vikings won.  I saw some spectators on the other side looking at their phones.  I asked them what the score was.  They just said, “they won.”

It wasn’t until after I got home that I discovered how close the game was.  The Vikings won by a field goal, but in the closing seconds, the Saints attempted a field goal that would’ve tied the game.  The ball hit the upright and bounced out.

In the last three miles, I started to have some mild discomfort around my tailbone.  When My sciatic nerve gets inflamed, I feel the pain in my right leg or right hip.  This was different.  It was mild soreness right through my tailbone.  Maybe it was residual soreness from the injection I had on Friday.  Maybe it was sore muscles in my lower back.  All I know is it was something new, and that was disconcerting.

In better news, I still wasn’t experiencing any increase in the soreness in my hamstring tendon.  If anything, it felt less sore now than it did earlier.  Its possible, I didn’t notice it as much because my feet hurt so much.

In the next mile, I brought my pace back down to 9:36.  I slowed down during that tough three-mile stretch, but I wasn’t coming apart.

After the 24-mile banner, I saw the 8-mile banner from the 10-mile race.  I knew when I got there, I would have exactly two miles to go.  I was tempted to look at my watch.  I had been paying attention to my individual mile times but not my total time.  If I looked at my watch now, I’d have a pretty good idea whether I would break 4:10.  On one hand, seeing I was on pace to break 4:10, would give me more incentive to finish strong.  If, however, it was out of reach, I might be too discouraged to keep up my effort.  I decided I was better off not knowing.

To my right, I saw a large sign saying, “free beer,”  I’ll do a beer stop if I don’t care about my time.  I’ll also do one if I’m killing it.  At this point in the race, I cared about my time, and I was hanging on for dear life.  If it was any earlier in the race, I would’ve skipped it.  With less than two miles to go, I didn’t think it would hurt, so I paused for a second to have a beer.

At 25 miles, I reached the last aid station.  Having just finished a beer, I didn’t feel like drinking again this soon.  I pressed on.

My time for that mile was disappointing.  I slowed down to 9:45.  I knew the last 1.2 miles would be mostly downhill, so I fought to pick up the pace.

Halfway through that mile, I looked to my left and saw a cross above the trees.  It was the steeple of St. Paul’s Cathedral.  I would pass the cathedral just before getting to the 26 mile mark.  When I reached the cathedral, I had to turn my head to look at it.  It’s the second most majestic landmark on the course.

As I reached the 26 banner, I saw that I had brought my pace back down in that mile.  I could see the finish line ahead of me, and it was all downhill.

The runners around me were all passing me as they put on their best finishing kicks.  I was still taking short rapid strides, so there was a limit to how fast I could go.  I maintained my effort, but I couldn’t speed up like the people around me.

The Twin Cities Marathon may have the most majestic finish line of any race I’ve done.  Beyond the finish line, you can see the Minnesota State Capitol, and you’re running right at it.  I had my phone with me, and I wanted to take a picture, but there’s no way I was going to give up any time when I was fighting to break 4:10.  I crossed the line in 4:09:36.

This race is almost all on tree-lined parkways, and the leaves were just starting to turn color.  Appropriately, the finisher medal depicts a leaf.

There was a variety of finish line snacks, but I didn’t feel like eating much.  I ate a banana and picked up a bag of potato chips to bring with me to the beer garden.

As I neared the end of the finish line chute, I finally stopped to take a picture of the capitol.  It’s not the same view you have as you’re approaching the finish line, but you get the idea.

I knew the layout of the finish area, so I made my way straight to the gear retrieval.  I was impressed by the efficiency of the volunteers.  Within seconds of seeing my bib number, they were already handing me my bag.

Later, as I was relaxing in the beer garden, I took a picture of St. Paul’s Cathedral looking back from the finish area.

I ran more than three minutes faster than my last race, despite employing a stride that probably wasn’t as efficient as my natural stride.  I was able to maintain a rapid cadence and run on the balls of my feet for an entire marathon.  I’ve never done that before.

Throughout the race, I felt mild soreness in my hamstring tendon, but I never got the sense that I was making it worse.  That was my overriding goal.  I’ll have to wait and see how it feels in the next few days, but that’s encouraging.

It’s hard to believe that just four weeks ago, standing upright was painful, and I could only walk by hunching forward.  Today, my sciatic nerve was never an issue.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:09:36

Average Pace:  9:31

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  466

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  89