I was registered to run
the Revel Big Bear Marathon last November.
That race had to be cancelled because the road was washed out by heavy
rains. I had three choices. I could switch to the half marathon, I could
defer to this year, or I could get a credit, which could be used for any other
Revel race. I chose the credit. I used my credit to register for the Mt.
Charleston Marathon, which is in the Las Vegas area.
Like all Revel races,
this one has a course that starts in the mountains, descends through a valley,
and finishes in the city, at a much lower elevation. There are uphill sections, but the vast
majority of the course is downhill. In
all, there’s 5,126 feet of net descent.
I ran this race once
before. It’s the fastest marathon course
I’ve ever run. When I ran it in 2017, my
time was 3:21:57. To put that in
perspective, my fastest recent time that year on a normal course was
3:49:33. I was almost 28 minutes faster
in the Mt. Charleston Marathon.
One of the reasons I ran
at an aggressive pace in my last race was to see if I could run a time under
3:50 on a “normal” course. If I could, I
might be able to run Mt. Charleston as fast this year as I did in 2017. The time I ran that year is roughly the time
I would need to get into next year’s New York City Marathon as a time
qualifier.
My last race didn’t go
well. I’m just not in good enough shape
to break 3:50 on a course that isn’t downhill.
That told me I probably shouldn’t try for a New York qualifier this
weekend. Giving up on that goal was
disappointing, but it was also liberating.
I could go into this race with the attitude that I would run whatever
pace felt right and not try to push an unrealistic pace.
I flew to Las Vegas on
Friday. Rather than stay at a hotel on
the “strip,” I chose to stay at a hotel near the finish line. I’ve been to Las Vegas enough times that the
hotels on the strip have lost their novelty.
I don’t gamble, and I wasn’t planning to see a show, so there wasn’t any
good reason to stay there.
Before driving to my
hotel, I stopped at the Rio Hotel & Casino to pick up my race packet. An email from the race organizers showed
which parking lot was closest to where the expo was located. The Rio is as large as a shopping mall, and
there are parking lots all around it, so it was nice to know where I should
enter.
I saw a few people I know
at the expo, including a member of the pacing team I ran with in San Antonio
four weeks ago.
After checking in at my
hotel, I went through my race packet and organized my clothes for the
race. Besides my race bib and T-shirt,
the race packet included a pair of gloves and a few food items.
I had dinner at a
Mediterranean restaurant that was a short walk from my hotel.
I needed to be up early, so I was motivated to get to bed as early as I could. It helped that I was adjusting to a two-hour time zone difference. My body was ready for bed right after dinner.
The race started at 6:00
AM at the Mt. Charleston Lodge, which is near the top of Kyle Canyon. To get to the start, I had to take a
bus. Buses started loading at 3:15, with
the last bus leaving at 4:15. I had to
drive a short distance from my hotel to get to the bus loading area, so I set
my alarm for 2:30, with a goal of being on a bus by 3:45.
The bus loading area was
close enough that I could have walked, but that would take longer. Also, I didn’t know if I would feel like
walking back after the race, so I drove there and parked.
When I got there, there
were lots of cars already in the parking lot, and I saw people standing
around. Nobody seemed to be in any hurry
to board a bus. Finally, one of the volunteers
started pleading with us to start getting on the buses. It was almost 3:30, and the first bus had not
left yet. I ended up boarding the first
bus, which left just a few minutes later.
The ride to the start
area took about 45 minutes. I assumed,
since we were the first bus, that there wouldn’t be any lines for the
port-o-potties. I was wrong. I forgot that there were also buses
transporting runners from the “strip.” A
few of those buses had already arrived.
At this point, the lines
were still fairly short. I got in line
and made my first bathroom stop. Then I
found a place where I could sit down. I
still had a long wait before the race started.
There were cabins
surrounding the start area, and there were benches outside of some of the
cabins. I was lucky enough to find room
on one of the benches. I waited there
until it was time to make another bathroom stop. By now, the lines were longer.
One of the challenges
with Revel races is the extreme temperature range you experience during the
race. It’s typically 20 degrees cooler
at the higher elevations, so it’s not unusual to experience a difference of 30-40
degrees from start to finish. Normally,
that makes clothing decisions tough, since it’s freezing at the start, but hot
in the late miles.
This year was an
exception. It was an unusually hot
weekend. The overnight low in Las Vegas
was 70 degrees, so I expected the temperature in the start area to be about 50. That’s warm enough that I could start the
race in shorts.
For the long wait in the
start area, I still had to wear extra layers.
The race organizers provided a gear check, so I didn’t have to rely on
throwaway clothes. I checked a gear bag
with my wind pants and a warm hat, but I kept my jacket on and waited until
just before the start to take it off and tie it around my waist. I also started the race with gloves.
As I lined up to start
the race, I could see the sunrise in the distance. It was an obstructed view, but it was
colorful.
The driveway out from the
start area had us starting in one direction, and then making a U-turn onto the
road. As we came back on the road, the
floodlights in the starting area made it difficult to see. Race starts are always crowded. When you can barely see the other runners,
it’s even harder to avoid bumping into people.
Most of the course is
downhill, but we had to run uphill for about a quarter mile before the road
turned downhill. With an elevation above
7,600 feet, you tire quickly running uphill.
I knew from experience that I should be patient and take this hill at a
pace that wouldn’t tire me out too much.
There would be plenty of downhill miles where I could run fast.
I must have slowed down
more than most of the other runners, because everyone was passing me on the
hill. Even though I was going slow, I
still quickly got out of breath.
When I reached the top of
the hill, it immediately got easier. As
I started running downhill, I made a conscious effort to keep my stride short
and move my feet as quickly as I could.
I call that “spinning the wheels.”
I didn’t have to put effort into my forward progress. Gravity took care of that.
I quickly caught my
breath, and I got into a good rhythm. I
didn’t have any sense of what my pace was.
I just ran at a pace that felt right.
I didn’t overthink it or try to control it.
Now that we were
descending, I noticed a cold draft. It
felt much colder on the road than it did in the start area. Even with gloves on, my hands were getting
cold.
My time for the first
mile was 9:03. That was slower than I
expected, but it included a slow uphill section. Mile two was all downhill, so that mile was
faster. I ran that mile in 8:03.
Those two miles were
considerably slower than my starting pace nine years ago. That framed my expectations. I wouldn’t be running a time in the 3:20s
this year. I already expected to be
slower this year, but now I knew for sure.
There were several turns
in the first two miles. When we were
heading in the right direction, we got more views of the sunrise. It was more colorful now, but I wasn’t going
to stop to take pictures.
For the next two miles,
my pace was just a little bit faster.
Then, right at four miles, I reached another uphill section. This hill wasn’t as long or steep as the
first one, but it forced me to slow down, and it also had me breathing harder.
At the end of that mile,
we briefly left the road to run into a parking area, where we ran a short loop
and then came back to the road. The
first half of that was uphill. The
second half was downhill.
Going uphill, I slowed
down again, and the 3:40 pace group went by me.
That caused me to revise my expectations again. I thought I would run a time in the 3:30s,
but now it seemed more likely that I would run a time in the 3:40s. That would still be much faster than I can
run on a flat course.
As we got back onto the
main road, I noticed that I was starting to catch up to the pace group now that
I was running downhill again. I
eventually caught them, and for a few minutes I was talking with the 3:40
pacer. I had run with him four weeks ago
in San Antonio.
It was warm enough now
that I no longer needed my gloves, so I took them off and stuffed them in my
fanny pack.
There wasn’t much of a
group with the 3:40 pacer. That’s not
surprising. I never run with pace groups
in downhill races, because your pace ebbs and flows depending on how steep the
grade is. It’s a mistake to try to keep
your pace consistent. To do that, you
would need to resist the hill on the steeper sections. That’s a good way to trash your quads. In a race like this, the pacers serve as
benchmarks. You know how you’re doing by
seeing which pace group you’re near and whether you’re ahead of them or behind
them.
I stayed with the 3:40
pacer for a few minutes, but as the grade became steeper, I found myself speeding
up and getting ahead of him.
Somewhere around seven
miles, my friend Eliot caught up to me.
We ran together for the next five miles.
At one point, Eliot said he needed to slow down. I was relieved, because I was finding his
pace to be a bit tiring. I was just
trying to keep up with him, but he was trying to keep up with me. Between us, we inadvertently pushed each
other to a faster pace.
The aid stations had
water and Gatorade, but the cups were small, and often they were only half
full. I realized by now that I wasn’t
drinking enough. For the rest of the
race, I drank both water and Gatorade at every aid station.
The sun was getting
higher in the sky, and we were often exposed to it. When I was in the sun, I could feel its
warmth. I was already beginning to get
hot.
Eventually, I started to
feel pressure in my intestines, and I realized I would eventually need to make
a bathroom stop. The aid station at 11
miles had a row of port-o-potties. I was
tempted to stop. I didn’t because I
wanted to keep up with Eliot.
Almost immediately after
that aid station, I regretted not stopping.
I was more certain than ever that I would need to stop at the next
one. Eliot pointed out that there would be
lots of port-o-potties at the halfway mark, because that was also the half
marathon start.
I kept up with Eliot for
another mile, but then I had to slow down and let him go ahead on his own. I don’t know if the pace was getting too
tiring or if it was tough to maintain that pace when I was trying to hold out
until I could make a bathroom stop.
Earlier, the 3:40 pacer
had told me the next uphill section would come at 12 miles. Shortly after passing the 12-mile mark, I
turned a corner, and I could see a section of road ahead that was uphill. This hill slowed me down a little, but not as
much as the earlier hills.
My next opportunity to
make a bathroom stop came shortly after the 13-mile mark. The port-o-potties were just before the water
tables at the halfway mark.
Some bathroom stops are
longer than others. Some are messier
than others. This was a messy one, which
also made it a long one. I was losing a
lot of time, but that couldn’t be avoided.
When I was done, I was happy to see that the port-o-potty had an ample
supply of hand sanitizer.
After my long bathroom
stop, I paused at the aid station to drink a cup of Gatorade and a cup of
water. Then I used another cup of water
to do a better job of washing my hand.
As I left the aid
station, I was at the halfway mark. My
time for the first half was 1:51. While
I was running with Eliot, we were on pace for a time in the low 3:30s. Now I was on pace for 3:42. It was actually worse than that. I had every reason to expect the second half
to be slower. There’s less total descent
in the second half. Also, it would keep
getting hotter.
The temperature was
climbing rapidly as I descended. By now,
the temperature was in the upper 60s. By
the time I finished, it would get up into the 80s.
After my bathroom stop, I
started to feel soreness in my calves.
My left calf was unusually tight.
I think some of my muscles tightened up when I made my bathroom stop. For too long, I wasn’t moving, and my muscles
had time to cool down.
Running downhill works
your calves more, and you also strike the ground harder. For the rest of the race, my calves were
causing me discomfort.
Up until now, I hadn’t
noticed much wind. Now, I noticed a
headwind. Between my bathroom stop,
which caused me to cool down, and the cooling effect of the wind, my hand
started to get cold. A short time
earlier, I was getting hot. Now, my
fingers were turning white. That lasted
for about a mile.
When my watch gave me a
split for mile 14, I finally found out how much time I lost during my bathroom
stop. It was at least four minutes. I had to wait for my next split to find out
how fast I was running now.
My pace for mile 15 was
in the 8:20s. In mile 16, I slowed to
the 8:30s. Then, in mile 17, I slowed to
the 8:40s. Interestingly enough, I was
still keeping up with most of the runners around me. I was even passing a few of them. The course just wasn’t as fast here. It was still downhill, but the grade was much
more gradual now. The same effort
resulted in a slower pace.
I saw one runner who
seemed to be passing people, so I lifted my effort enough to keep up with
her. That resulted in bringing my pace
back down into the 8:30s. Then she
suddenly moved over to the shoulder and stopped to catch her breath.
I saw a lot of that in
the second half of the race. Runners
would suddenly stop and walk or stop to work on a cramp. As it got hotter, everyone was struggling.
My pace slowed into the
8:50s. I knew I couldn’t run as fast in
the late miles, but I worked hard to keep my pace under nine minutes per mile.
At 21 miles, we left the
road we had been on and turned onto one that was flatter. From here on out, it no longer felt like a
downhill race. Now, it was a normal
race, and I could only maintain my pace by working harder. I couldn’t quite maintain the same pace, and
I wore myself out by trying.
In mile 22, I slowed to
9:11. I did the math and realized that I
wasn’t even going to break 3:50. It got
worse from there. In mile 23, I slowed
to 9:48.
I was getting desperately
thirsty. I drank as much as I could at
each aid station, but a few minutes later my mouth would feel dry again.
Just past 23, we turned
and went up a ramp. I slowed a little
going uphill, but it didn’t cause me to get short of breath. We were at a low enough elevation now that
hills weren’t as devastating.
At the top of the ramp, I
turned a corner and saw that it was still uphill for as far as I could
see. It was gradual, but I still had about
half a mile of uphill running.
I worked hard to keep up
with anyone else who was still running.
I passed anyone who was walking the hill.
By the time I reached the
top of that hill, I could see the “24” sign in the distance. When I got there, I found out that I had
slowed to 10:33 in that mile. I was
relieved that I didn’t slow down more.
It was only now that I
realized how hot I was getting. The air
was so dry that perspiration evaporates quickly. You don’t realize how much you’re sweating. For the first time, my clothes actually felt
sweaty.
It occurred to me that I
had been overheating for several miles, but I wasn’t consciously aware of it,
because I didn’t feel sweaty until now.
It also occurred to me
that I should have been pouring water over my head or onto my shirt at the aid
stations. In these dry conditions, that
would be very effective in cooling me down.
Now, it was too late.
The next mile was flat,
so I knew it wouldn’t be any slower than the previous mile, which was mostly
uphill. I sped up a little, but it was
still my second slowest mile of the race.
As I started the last
mile, I saw I was about to cross a bridge.
It was slightly uphill getting onto the bridge, but then it was
downhill. As soon as I reached the
downhill section, I worked to pick up my pace a little.
Just around the next
turn, there was an aid station. I had to
stop briefly to drink, but as I resumed running, I noticed this street was
slightly downhill. The pavement was
rough, which made it uncomfortable, but I tried to use the downhill slope to
pick up my pace.
A volunteer said we would
turn at the next light and then we would see the finish line. I could see where the light was, but it was
still several blocks away. When I got
there, I still couldn’t see the finish line.
The road we turned onto
curved to the left. I had to get partway
around the bend before I could see the finish area. I could see tents, but I couldn’t see the
finish line.
I passed the “26” sign
and continued around the bend until the road straightened out. I could see the finish line now, but it
wasn’t in front of me. We had to run
past it and then make a U-turn before finally running toward it. I finished in 3:52:27.
It seemed like they were
doing triage at the finish line to identify runners with medical issues. One person handed me a wet washcloth, another
handed me a water bottle, and a third seemed to be checking out whether I was
OK. I must have looked like hell, but I
was OK. Mostly, I needed water. I drank as much as I could during the race,
but I was definitely dehydrated.
I was almost done
drinking my water when I reached the volunteers with the finisher medals. The medal has a spinner inside of another
spinner.
Before I left the
finisher chute, I was handed a bag with post-race snacks. It’s nice when they have pre-assembled bags,
so it’s easy to carry everything.
Another nice feature of
this race was the results tent. Right
after finishing, they’ll look up your result and print a card like this one.
Downhill courses like this one have become a cottage industry in recent years. Everybody is trying to get an edge for qualifying for Boston, whether it’s faster shoes or a faster course. The organizers of the Boston Marathon recently changed their rules to try to level the playing field. For races that descend more than 1,500 feet, they add five minutes to your time. For races than descent more than 3,000 feet, they add 10 minutes. For races that descend more than 6,000 feet, they add 15 minutes.
For this course, the time
“penalty” is 10 minutes. The qualifying
standard for my age group is 4:05, but on this course, I needed a time of 3:55
or faster. I did that, but not by a wide
margin. Still, it was nice to see that
on my results card.
Next, I made my way to
the beer garden. I saw several friends
at this race, and a bunch of us were hanging out in the beer garden. We sat at the only table that was in the shade. I ate a few items from my bag of post-race
snacks, but I saved the rest for when I got back to the hotel.
The finish area was about
a mile from where I caught the bus to the start. They had shuttles to take us back there. Ordinarily, I could have walked, but my left
calf was so tight that I could only take tiny steps. On the bright side, I wasn’t noticing any
inflammation in my Achilles tendons.
They’ve been chronically tight for the last few months, so that was a
concern.
After getting dropped off
by the shuttle, I drove back to the hotel.
I was glad I didn’t have to walk that distance.
When I got back to the
hotel, it was noon. I made a lunch out
of my remaining post-race snacks.
After taking one of the
longest showers of my life, I worked on massaging and stretching my calf
muscles. I also did some gentle
stretching of my Achilles tendons.
When I was sufficiently
rehydrated, I went to the hotel’s hot tub.
The pool area was outside, so I was happy so see that the hot tub was in
the shade. I was able to position my
legs so the jets helped massage my calves.
My calves were starting to feel better, but my Achilles tendons got
tighter later in the day.
I was still on an early
to bed, early to rise schedule, so I had an early dinner and went to bed early
again. I wasn’t sleepy yet, but I was
too tired to do anything else. It took a
while to get to sleep, but then I crashed pretty hard.
Most people who ran this
race probably woke up the next morning with sore quads. I hardly noticed my quads. Instead, I had sore glutes. At first, I could barely maintain my balance
to walk to the bathroom.
By maintaining a rapid
cadence during the steep downhill miles, I was able to keep from beating up my
quads. The price I paid was overworking
my glutes. In the past, I’ve kept those
muscles strong by race-walking, but I haven’t done any race-walk training this
year.
The soreness in my glutes will be gone in a day or two. I’m more concerned about my Achilles tendons. My left Achilles tendon is especially tight. Until it gets better, I’m putting extra padding under my left heel to reduce the tension when I walk.
No comments:
Post a Comment