Today was the second day of the Savage Seven, which is a
series of seven marathons on seven consecutive days. I missed the first day of the series. For me, today was the first day of four in a
row.
I went to bed early Thursday night and slept well for about
an hour and a half. Then I woke up and
couldn’t get back to sleep. I was too
hot. That often happens after I eat a
big dinner. In retrospect, I should’ve
set the thermostat a degree or two colder.
I should’ve slept under just a sheet.
I should’ve kept the ceiling fan on.
I made those adjustments during the night, but it took hours to get back
to sleep. When I did, it was just a
series of short naps. I knew I could
shake off the poor night’s sleep for one race, but I’ll have to get more sleep
before the other races, or it’s going to catch up to me.
The race started at 6:00 AM, but I had to arrive earlier to
pick up my race packet. The drive time
from my hotel was about 20 minutes, but I allowed extra time, since I was
driving in the dark, and I had never been there before.
I had to leave my hotel before they started their breakfast
service, but I came prepared. I made
some tea and had some of the home-made cinnamon bread that I brought from home.
These races were originally organized by Chuck Savage, but
now the race director is Jc Santa Teresa.
Jc knows me, so he knew I would be faster than most of the other
runners. When he saw me in the start
area, he went out of his way to make sure I understood the layout of the
course. I appreciated that, since I was
worried I might be out in front, running by myself. I was nervous about having to find all the
turns in the dark on a course I had never seen before. Jc sent us a diagram of the course a few days
ago, but I knew it wasn’t to scale and might distort the shape of the course.
Our course was a 5.14 mile circuit. For the marathon, we started with an
out-and-back that was about a quarter mile each way. Then we ran five laps of the full circuit. There was also a 50K that did six laps and a
half marathon that did two laps with a longer out-and-back.
The course consisted of paved trails through a local
greenway. We started with a short spur
than led us to the first of two loops that formed a figure eight. After the second loop, we had a longer spur
that led us to the turnaround point. Coming
back, we went on the other side of the two loops. There were several
intersecting trails that we didn’t take.
Turns were marked by arrows made with flour.
I’ll wear the same race bib for all four days, so today was
the only day I needed to do packet pickup.
One odd feature of the race bib is that the timing chip isn’t attached
to it. The chips can be reused for other
races, so we’ll keep our race bibs, but we’ll return our timing chips at the
end of the series. In my case, I’ll
return it after day five.
During pre-race announcements, Jc mentioned that Nick
Nicholson ran his 1000th marathon in four years at yesterday’s race. Then he introduced two other runners who are
doing their 1000th marathons during this series, as well as a few reaching
other big milestones.
Sunrise wasn’t until well after 7:00, so I had to start the
race with a flashlight. In some ways, a
headlamp would’ve been more convenient, but I only needed a light for the first
lap. If I wore a headlamp, I’d either
need to wear it for the whole race, or I’d have to take the time to drop it off
at my car. The flashlight would easily
fit in my fanny pack when I didn’t need it any more.
The temperature was 62 degrees at the start and warmed to 69
by the time I finished. That was warm
enough to take the guesswork out of what to wear, but not so warm that I had to
worry about getting hot.
The last time I ran a four-day series, I ran at a pace that
felt somewhat leisurely. I didn’t set
any time goals. I probably would have
done the same thing with this series, but I noticed something as I was sorting
my past results in a spreadsheet. I’ve
broken four hours 246 times. If I could
break four hours in all four of these races, I would reach 250. It was an ambitious goal, but it seemed
plausible. Many of my recent marathon
times have been in the 3:20s. I could
run a minute per mile slower and still be well under four hours. That seemed like a pace that shouldn’t take
too much out of me, so my goal for today was to break four hours.
As I started the initial out-and-back, I quickly got out in
front of all the other runners. Then I
noticed there was one other runner close to me.
I eased up a bit to let him catch up, and we ran together.
His name was Robin.
He’s from Switzerland, and this was also his first time running this
course. With two of us looking for the
course markings, we were less likely to miss a turn.
There were two aid stations.
One was where we started; the other was at the far side of the
circuit. Each one had water, Gatorade,
and a variety of snacks. I didn’t know
if they would have enough cups for everybody to be using new cups on every lap,
so I had a reusable cup clipped to my fanny pack. When Robin and I finished our initial
out-and-back, I filled my cup with water from the large dispenser, rather than
grabbing a cup off the table. When we
were both done at the aid station, we started the first full lap together.
From my effort, I suspected we were going faster than a four
hour pace, but I didn’t know for sure.
We were certainly going slower than my usual race pace. I just didn’t know how much slower. I was wearing a watch with GPS, but it would
have been awkward to read it in the dark.
I was content to wait until we finished our first lap. By then, there would be enough light to see
my watch.
The aid station at the start/finish area had a chip
transponder, but the aid station at the far end of the circuit didn’t. Instead, a volunteer manually recorded the bib
numbers of the runners each time they got there. There was enough light at the aid station to
read my watch. Without doing a precise
calculation, it seemed like we were roughly on pace for four hours. I was disappointed. I really thought we were going faster.
On our way back, we were initially by ourselves. Then we started to see runners who were still
outbound. I wasn’t expecting such a long
section of two-way traffic. On the
course diagram, it looks like the two loops made up most of the course, and the
out-and-back section beyond them was really short. In fact, the loops aren’t all that big, and
the out-and-back was about a mile in each direction. Not knowing that, I was afraid we missed a
turn. Eventually, we reached the first loop. When I saw the turn marked with flour, I knew
we were still on course.
By the end of the first circuit, there was enough light to
see. I put my flashlight in my fanny
pack. Robin turned his off. I didn’t notice if he had someplace to put it
away.
Florida has a reputation for being flat, so I expected a
completely flat course. It’s fairly
flat, but there are some gradual slopes.
I couldn’t see them in the dark, but I could feel the difference. Sometimes the pace felt more tiring;
sometimes it felt really easy.
When we got back to the main aid station, I drank some
Gatorade. Robin had to get something
from his drop bag. He might have been
dropping off his flashlight, but I didn’t know.
Looking at my watch, I noticed we were right on pace for four hours. I wanted to wait for Robin before heading
out, but I didn’t know how long he would be.
I also didn’t know if breaking four hours was a goal for him. Not wanting to fall behind the pace, I
started the second lap by myself. I was running
by myself for the rest of the race.
My intention was to check my pace at the end of one lap and
see how it compared to a four hour pace.
Then I was supposed to ask myself how that pace felt. Was it easy enough for the first day of four,
or would it take too much out of me?
Once I saw I was right on pace for four hours, it was like flipping a
switch in my brain. I committed to the
goal of breaking four hours. I forgot to
ask myself how it felt. In fact, it didn’t
feel easy enough. I felt like I was
working. I wasn’t working as hard as I
usually do, but I also wasn’t staying within my comfort zone.
On my second and subsequent laps, I could see the course
clearly. Already, I had a good feel for
where I was and what to expect.
Although nobody was running with me, I frequently saw other
runners. On a multiple loop course, you
have many opportunities to see runners who are going at different paces. That was especially true on the long out-and-back
segment before and after the far aid station.
I knew a lot of the other runners.
They’re the same runners you often see at other multi-day series.
With a firm goal of four hours and nobody alongside me to
temper my impulses, I sped up. The next
time I reached the far aid station, I got there quicker than I expected. I was also faster on the second half of the
loop.
Toward the end of my second lap, I felt a light sprinkling
of rain drops. It wasn’t enough to be a
big deal, but I was surprised. There
wasn’t any rain in the forecast. Looking
up, I saw a mixture of blue sky and thin white clouds. I didn’t see any dark clouds. Within a few minutes, the rain stopped.
Although I was wearing a watch with GPS, I really wasn’t
using it to keep track of my pace. It
beeps at the end of each mile and shows me my split for that mile, but I have
to look for it. The beep isn’t very
loud, and most of the time I didn’t even notice it. The only times I read my watch were at the aid
stations. I could’ve done that with a
plain stopwatch.
Because of the initial out-and-back, the midpoint of the
third lap was about a quarter mile past the halfway point. If I was on pace for a four hour finish, I
would get there in about 2:02. I got
there in 1:57. I was on pace for 3:50. I checked my time again at the end of my
third lap. I was still on pace for 3:50.
About half a mile into my fourth lap, I noticed some
tightness in one of my calves. Was I
running hard enough to start getting sore muscles with almost 10 miles to
go? That seemed unlikely. Usually the first muscles to get sore will be
my quads. My calves don’t usually get sore,
but they’re the muscles most prone to cramp if I overheat or have an
electrolyte imbalance.
Then it dawned on me.
I wasn’t concerned about temperatures in the 60s, but I didn’t take the
humidity seriously. Before the race, it
was 100 percent. I had no reason to believe
it had dropped significantly. That
explained why I felt like I was working to sustain a pace that should have felt
easy.
At this point, I could slow down by a minute per mile, and I
would still break four hours. I gave
myself permission to ease up, but I don’t think I was listening. I actually sped up.
Only one thing slowed me down. I heard my drinking cup hit the
pavement. I initially assumed the cup
came loose from the rubber strap that holds it in place. That happened once before in another
race. This time, it somehow came
unclipped from my fanny pack.
I picked it up, clipped it back onto my fanny pack, and
resumed running, but I made a decision.
For the next three days, I’m going to leave it at the hotel and just use
the disposable cups. They seem to have
plenty. It might not be as eco-friendly,
but this cup is a souvenir from the Beer Lovers’ Marathon, and I don’t want to
lose it.
At most of the aid stations, I just drank Gatorade. The next time I reached the far aid station,
I paused long enough to eat a cookie and talk to the aid station volunteer. As I resumed running, I looked at my
watch. If my only goal was to break four
hours, I had all the time in the world.
By now, however, I was starting to latch onto another goal. I wanted to run negative splits. If I was serious about breaking four hours on
four straight days, the smartest thing to do was to slow down. I shouldn’t expend any more energy than necessary
to break four hours. By now, I was
assuming that was no longer a realistic goal.
With that in mind, I was taking it one day at a time. I was having a good race, and I wanted to
enjoy the day.
As I left the aid station, I felt like I was going at a
sluggish pace. I may have been at first,
but it didn’t take long to get back into my rhythm. I wasn’t as fast coming back, but I was still
running at a four hour pace. It’s the pace I should’ve been running all along.
Toward the end of that lap, I felt rain again. It was still only a light sprinkling. I looked at the sky again. This time, I saw dark clouds.
The rain never got any heavier. It seemed like it sprinkled lightly for a few
minutes and then stopped again. For the
rest of the race, the pavement looked wet.
Was it still raining? I no longer
felt it, but would I? With the 100
percent humidity, I felt wet whether it was raining or not.
With one lap to go, I realized I would run negative splits
if I just kept running at the same pace as the second half of my fourth lap. In fact, I sped up. That wasn’t a conscious decision. When you run a multiple-loop course, you
naturally get excited when you start the last lap. The anticipation of finishing gets you pumped
up. Without intending to, I picked up my
pace. When I got to the far aid station
for the last time, it was obvious I would run negative splits.
I also ran fast coming back.
For the first time in the race, I noticed when my watch beeped to
indicate it was recording a split. I ran
the 25th mile in 8:27. From there on, I
could tell I was running faster. My
breathing was no longer relaxed. I knew
I was speeding up, but you don’t slow down with a mile to go.
I didn’t care if I was being smart. I was having fun. As I approached the finish, I yelled, “Number
30 to control tower: requesting permission
to land.” I finished in 3:46:47. I ran negative splits by three minutes.
Since leaving Robin behind at the beginning of the second
lap, I had been in first place. In a
series like this, most people aren’t trying to compete. There isn’t any award for first place. Everybody gets a finisher medal. That’s it.
Still, it’s a win.
I didn’t know what the finisher medals would look like. No surprise.
It’s the same logo that’s on the T-shirt. The 50K, marathon and half marathon all have
the same medal. I think it’s the same
medal for every race in the series.
I was still in the finish area when Robin finished. He didn’t break four hours. To stay on pace, I would’ve had to leave him
behind at some point. It would have been
nice to run together longer. I enjoyed having
someone to talk with.
As I was walking to my car, it started drizzling. Now that I was no longer running, it felt
cold. As I drove back to the hotel, the drizzle
quickly became a steady rain. I’m glad I
didn’t have to run in that.
Sometimes, in a series like this, I’ll take an ice bath to minimize
the inflammation in my legs. I
considered it, but my hands were already turning white. Instead, I just took a warm bath and massaged
my legs.
I don’t expect to break four hours in my remaining three
races. I expect tomorrow to be more
difficult. I’ll have to wait as see how
I feel tomorrow, but if I don’t think I can run at the same pace, I may just
stay in my comfort zone.
When I went to recharge my watch, I discovered my charging
cable isn’t in my bag. I apparently
forgot to pack it. I didn’t really need
that watch today, so I’ll use my regular stopwatch for the next three days.
For what it’s worth, Florida is the 10th state where I’ve
been either first overall or first male in a marathon or ultra. It’s worth noting that my marathon “wins” have
all been in races where most people aren’t trying to compete. I do have some hard-fought wins in fixed-time
ultras that were competitive.
Race Statistics
Distance: 26.2 miles
Time: 3:46:47
Average Pace: 8:39
Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:
395
Florida Marathons: 4
Sub 4 Hour Marathons:
247
States with Wins: 10
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