Race Report: 2019 Savage Seven, Day 2

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

Series Preview: 2019 Savage Seven

Over the next four days, I’ll be running four marathons.  These races are part of a series called the Savage Seven.  This is a series of seven marathons in seven days.  This series is held annually, beginning the day after Christmas and continuing through New Year’s Day.

The Savage Seven is held in Ocala, FL.  To be there for day one, I would’ve needed to fly to Florida on Christmas Day.  I opted to skip day one, so I could wait until the day after Christmas to fly to Florida.  I also plan to skip the last two days of the series, so I can fly home on New Year’s Eve and be home for New Year’s Day.

Although I’m only doing four of the seven marathons, that’s enough for me to achieve my goal.  I want to run a quadzilla (four marathons in four days) in Florida.  Why do I want to run a quadzilla in Florida?  That goes back to a conversation I had with Steve Walters way back in 2013.

In 2013, I ran the Seattle Quadzilla.  On the second day of that series, I was wearing a T-shirt from the Firecracker Quadzilla in Oregon, which I ran earlier in the year.  Another runner saw my T-shirt and said, “Hey.  He’s a quadzilla expert.”  That started a conversation with Steve.  We were wondering how many states there were where you could run a quadzilla.

The Seattle Quadzilla was my second quadzilla state (Washington).  The first was Oregon.  In 2015, I ran the first four days of the Day of the Dead Series.  That was a seven day series in Las Cruces, NM.  That gave me quadzillas in three states.

In 2017, I ran the four day Aloha Series, giving me a quadzilla in Hawaii.  Earlier this year, I ran the four day Minnesota Brothers Trail Series, giving me a quadzilla in Minnesota.  Florida will be the sixth state where I’ve run a quadzilla.

I’m a member of the 50 States Marathon Club.  The goal is to run marathons in all 50 states, but you can join as soon as you’ve run marathons in at least 10 states.  I figured if I could run quadzillas in at least 10 states, I could be the founding member of the 50 States Quadzilla Club and have a special T-shirt made.

It’s not currently possible to run quadzillas in all 50 states, but you never know what the future holds.  Besides Oregon, Washington, New Mexico, Hawaii, Minnesota, and Florida, I can think of as many as eight other states where have been quadzilla opportunities at one time or another.  I’ll do as many as I can.  For now, it’s more of an amusing notion than a serious goal.

Delta had direct flights to Orlando, Tampa, or Jacksonville.  Rental cars were expensive in all three locations.  Considering both airfare and rental car rates, it worked out best to fly to Jacksonville and drive from there.

When I got to the airport, the line for bag drop was the longest I’ve ever seen it.  Apparently, the day after Christmas is the busiest travel day of the year.  Fortunately, I got to the airport really early.

When I got to Jacksonville, Alamo was out of cars.  I could either rent a truck or go to Avis, who agreed to match Alamo’s rates.  It took longer than usual, but I eventually got a car and started the two hour drive to Ocala.  Maybe traveling the day after Christmas wasn’t such a good idea after all.

The race venue is on the east side of Ocala, but most of the hotels are on the west side.  I think there are a couple of budget motels closer to the race venue, but I chose to stay at a hotel that’s 10 miles away, so I could have a kitchenette with a full-size refrigerator.  I’ll need to leave before the hotel starts its breakfast service, so I wanted to be able to buy groceries to fix my own breakfasts.  I also brought a loaf of home-made cinnamon bread from home.

Race Report: 2019 Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon

On December 15, I ran the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon.  This race is run along a coastal highway called Beach Boulevard, starting near Henderson Point and finishing in Biloxi.  In the early 90s, I made two or three trips to Biloxi for work.  I used to get up early and go for runs along Beach Boulevard before work.  I liked the idea of running a marathon along this same route.

I flew into Gulfport on Saturday.  This is the same airport I used to fly into for business trips.  From there, it’s about 15 miles to Biloxi.  The fastest route to my hotel would have been to take I-10, but I drove to the coast and took Beach Boulevard instead.  The drive along Beach Boulevard gave me a chance to see how much the area has changed since I was last here.

In 2005, Biloxi was hit pretty hard by Hurricane Katrina.  Deb and I were in this area in 2007 and drove this same stretch of Beach Boulevard.  Along that entire stretch of highway between Gulfport and Biloxi, I only saw one building that wasn’t visibly damaged.  Most of the buildings were completely destroyed.

When I worked here in the 90s, tourism was becoming a big part of the local economy.  The two main attractions were the casinos and a white sand beach that ran all along Mississippi’s gulf coast.  In 2007, I was pleased to see that the communities along the coast made an investment in cleaning up the beach.

Prior to Hurricane Katrina, state law didn’t allow casinos on land, but there were several operating on barges that were docked at coastal piers.  That was a legal loophole.  After Hurricane Katrina, the casino owners said they would only rebuild if the law was changed to allow them to build on land.  Recognizing their importance to the local economy, the state legislature changed the laws.  In 2007, we saw casinos under construction.  Today, there are several large casinos operating in Biloxi and nearby communities.

Today, everything along the coast looks normal.  Some buildings were rebuilt.  Many others are new.  They look different now, but I wouldn’t know that if I had never been here before.  In particular, you can’t tell that this area was completely destroyed 14 years ago.  Some of the historic buildings are missing, but the area has bounced back economically.

The host hotel for the marathon was the Beau Rivage Resort & Casino, but I stayed at a Doubletree hotel that was about a quarter mile away.  It was easy to see when I was getting close to Doubletree, because it’s right next to “The Loop.”  That’s what they call the ramps where I-110 meets Beach Boulevard.

After checking in at Doubletree, I walked over to the other side of the freeway to pick up my race packet at MGM Park.  MGM Park was the race village.  It’s where the marathon and half marathon both finished.  It’s also where I needed to catch a bus to the start on the morning of the race.

After dropping off my race packet at the hotel, I walked over to the old Biloxi Lighthouse and Lighthouse Pier.

Later, I walked over to the Beau Rivage Resort & Casino.  I don’t gamble, but I was still curious to see what the place looks like.  Biloxi didn’t have casinos like this 15 years ago.

I was here at the right time of year to see their Christmas decorations.

I had dinner at their Italian restaurant.  Their marinara pizza has shrimp.  You can’t go to the gulf coast without having shrimp, and I can’t go anywhere without having pizza.

I went to bed early, in anticipation of getting up early.  I slept well for a few hours, but then I woke up and had trouble getting back to sleep.  My hotel room was unusually noisy.  I could hear sounds from both inside and outside the hotel.  Outside, there was traffic noise.  Inside the building, there was some type of mechanical noise.  My room was right next to the elevators, so that might have been it.  Finally, I heard a train at 2 AM.  Even with earplugs, I couldn’t tune out all the noise.

Time seemed to be passing slowly.  I’d toss and turn for what seemed like an hour or two.  Then I’d look at the clock and only 20 minutes had passed.  My alarm was set for 4:15, but I got up at 4:00, so I would have more time to get ready.

At Doubletree, they always give you a cookie when you check in.  I saved mine to eat as a light pre-race breakfast, along with a cup of tea.

The course was point-to-point, so I had to take a bus to the start.  At 5:00, I walked over to MGM Park to board a bus.  We got there around 6:00 for a 7:00 start.  The first thing I did was wait in line to use a port-o-potty.  Then I got back on one of the buses.  The buses weren’t going to leave until after the race started, so we didn’t have to wait outside.  While we were waiting, we saw the sunrise.

The temperature was in upper 50s.  That suited me just fine.  My only concern was wind.  If there was a wind off the coast, we would be exposed to that.  We were running in the same direction for the whole race, so how the wind would affect us depended very much on the wind direction.  We’d feel it from the same direction for the whole race.

I had several good race results in September and October, culminating in a time of 3:21:48 in the Chicago Marathon.  Since then, all my races have either been on challenging courses or in tropical weather.  My training has gone well, and I had surprisingly good results in Cuba and Myanmar, despite the heat.  I was curious to know how fast I could run on a flat course in cool weather.  My goal was to beat my time from Chicago.

About 20 minutes before the race started, I removed my warm-up layers and checked my gear bag.  Then I got back on a bus until the police blocked the traffic on Beach Boulevard, so we could walk over to the starting line.

There wasn’t a pace group close to my goal time, so I was on my own to set the pace.  I generally prefer to start with a pace group and go ahead on my own after the first mile.  I’m good at staying on a consistent pace, but I’m not good at finding the right pace.

I accelerated until the pace felt a bit tiring.  Then I eased up until the pace felt too easy.  I went back and forth a few times in the first mile.

I could feel the wind.  It wasn’t a strong wind, but it was definitely a headwind.  I wasn’t sure how much it would affect me.  I had to get a few miles under my belt first.

I wanted to average about 7:40 per mile.  My first mile was 7:31.  I knew that was too fast.  As I was starting the second mile, a runner from South Africa recognized my Comrades shirt, and we started talking about Comrades.  I felt I should slow down, but I wanted to keep talking to him.  That problem was solved when we reached an aid station.  Slowing down to drink caused me to go a little slower in the next mile.

In the second mile, we left Beach Boulevard to run on Scenic Drive, which is a residential road that runs alongside Beach Boulevard.  Along Scenic Drive, we were surrounded by trees.  That gave us some shelter from the wind, and I didn’t notice it as much.  For the next few miles, my average pace was just a little bit faster than my goal pace of 7:40.

After about four miles, we returned to Beach Boulevard, and I noticed the wind again.  After another mile, my mile times deteriorated.  Over the next several miles, I slowed by about 10 seconds per mile.  Running any faster was too tiring.  I realized the wind was making the pace more tiring than it would be normally.  Beating my time from Chicago wasn’t a realistic goal.  I wasn’t sure what was.  Even after slowing down, I still felt like the pace was going to wear me down.  For the time being, I took it one mile at a time and kept all my mile times under eight minutes.

At most races of any size, you’ll see spectators holding up signs with amusing and/or motivational messages.  My favorite from this race was, “You’re tougher than a Waffle House steak.”

After eight miles, we ran through the central part of Long Beach.  I saw a tall flagpole with two flags.  Watching how the flags were blowing in the wind confirmed what I already knew.  It wasn’t a strong wind, but we were running directly into it.

At times, I tried to run behind other runners in hopes of drafting.  To do that, I needed to match their pace.  It helped a little, but not enough.  The pace was still too tiring.  I usually had to drop back to a slower pace, even though I noticed the wind more.  In a larger race, I could’ve tucked in behind a big group of runners.  This race wasn’t that big.  We were already getting spread out along the road.

Another runner asked me what my goal was.  I said, “At the start of the race, it was 3:21, but I don’t think that’s realistic in this wind.”  That’s not what he wanted to hear.  He was hoping to break 3:20 to get into Boston.  He eventually sped up to follow another runner who passed us.  I had to let them both go.  I knew I wasn’t breaking 3:20.

Although I had given up on 3:21, I didn’t initially set a new goal.  I just didn’t know how much more I would slow down in the second half.  I felt like the wind was gradually wearing me down.  I was still keeping my mile times below eight minutes.  If I could keep that up, I would break 3:30.

They had aid stations every mile.  I didn’t feel like I was sweating much, but I still drank a small amount of Powerade at each aid station.  In fact, I was sweating more than I realized.  The wind made my sweat evaporate quickly from my skin.  That not only kept me cool, but also kept my skin dry.  Later in the race, I noticed that my shorts were saturated with sweat.  It might have felt cool, but we were still running in high humidity.

The middle miles were in Gulfport.  At the halfway point, I was still roughly on pace to match my Chicago time.  I knew that wouldn’t last much longer.  I fully expected to run positive splits.  The only question was by how much.

There was a half marathon that started in Gulfport and finished in Biloxi.  Just a couple of minutes after passing the 13 mile sign for the marathon, I saw the one mile sign for the half marathon.  If they were simply running the second half of the marathon course, I wouldn’t see their one mile sign until after our 14 mile sign.

That sign wasn’t an aberration.  The relative placement of the mile markers for the two races was consistent.  At some point later in the race, the two courses had to diverge.

Since the beginning of winter weather at home, I’ve been doing most of my training on a treadmill.  My treadmill stops after an hour and 40 minutes, so I typically run as far as I can comfortably run in that amount of time.  It’s usually about 12 miles.  With 12 miles to go, I was able to tell myself that what I had left was something I do almost every day.  That would’ve been more helpful if I was confident I could sustain a consistent pace.

I still didn’t know how much longer I could keep my mile times under eight minutes.  I was taking it one mile at a time, but each mile was more difficult than the one before.  I grew in confidence that I would break 3:30, but I wasn’t willing to set a more aggressive goal.  I didn’t know if the wheels would come off at some point.

We constantly had views of the beach on our right.  One mile along the beach doesn’t really look that different from another.  For familiar landmarks, I had to look for the buildings and the piers.

Somewhere around 17 miles, I ran under a pedestrian bridge.  I remembered driving under this bridge the day before.  When I came here on business trips, I used to go for morning runs, starting at my motel and going out and back along the beach.  There was a pedestrian bridge that I would look for.  My turnaround point was just past the bridge.  This bridge looked different, but I think it's in the same location.  I think they had to rebuild it after Katrina.

At some point, I realized I wasn’t noticing the wind as much.  It seemed like it wasn’t as bad for the past few miles.  No sooner did that thought enter my head than the wind picked up.  It wasn’t going to get easier.

The next time I saw a flag, I noticed a difference in how it was blowing.  We were no longer running directly into the wind.  Now it was at about a 45 degree angle.  That was the good news.  The bad news is the wind was much stronger now.  On balance, it was more tiring than before.

With about six miles to go, I ran past Beauvoir.  This was the estate where Jefferson Davis lived from 1875 to 1889.  This was definitely a familiar landmark.  I remember running past here during my training runs in the early 90s.  There used to be more of these large historic homes, but many of them weren’t rebuilt after Hurricane Katrina.

In the late miles, I started noticing pressure building up in my intestines.  At times, I wondered if I could make it through the whole race without a bathroom stop.  Some of the aid stations had port-o-potties, but I worried that once I stopped, I would never get back onto the same pace.  Just before 22 miles, I reached an aid station with port-o-potties.  The aid station was next to the street, but the port-o-potties were a short distance away in a parking lot for the beach.  Had they been right next to the street, I probably would have stopped, but I pressed on.

As I passed the 22 mile mark, I realized I could slow down all the way to nine minute miles, and I would still break 3:30.  I was running out of fight.  The wind was wearing me down, and I was momentarily tempted to just go easy the rest of the way.  So far, all my mile times were under eight minutes, and I continued fighting to maintain that trend.

I wasn’t even to 23 miles when I saw the Biloxi Lighthouse in the distance.  It didn’t seem like it was more than a mile away.  As the crow flies, the lighthouse is no more than half a mile from where we would finish.  I knew we left Beach Boulevard for an out-and-back near the end of the race, but I didn’t think it would tack on that much extra distance.  As I got closer to the lighthouse, it became painfully obvious that we would still have more than two miles to go when we passed it.

Mile 23 took 8:01.  Keeping each mile under eight minutes had been my focus since the sixth mile.  Now that was gone.  Breaking 3:30 was in the bag.  I was on pace for 3:25, but I needed to average eight minutes per mile the rest of the way.  Even with my best effort, I didn’t think I could do that.  I allowed myself to ease up a little.

Shortly after passing the lighthouse, we reached The Loop.  Here, we left Beach Boulevard to follow the ramp onto I-110.  I knew we were going to do an out-and-back on the freeway before returning to Beach Boulevard.  I thought it would be shorter.  As I started up the ramp, I still had 2.2 miles to go.

The ramp was the first noticeable hill in the race, but that wasn’t what made it tough.  The turn was banked, making it uncomfortable.  Everyone I talked to after the race agreed that that was the toughest feature of the course.

Eventually, we stopped turning, but we were still climbing.  We got high enough that I could look down into MGM Park on my right.

We continued along I-110, past the ballpark.  Eventually, there was a turnaround for runners doing the half marathon.  Those of us doing the marathon had to continue much farther before turning around.

I checked my time at the 25 mile mark.  It was still possible to break 3:25 with a strong finish.  The pressure in my intestines was worse now, so I didn’t want to rock the boat by trying to speed up.

I didn’t realize it, but we were going downhill now.  When I reached the turnaround, I saw we had to go back uphill.  I definitely wasn’t going to break 3:25.  Still, I didn’t completely give up on it.  I did my best going back up the hill.

Earlier in the morning, it was mostly cloudy.  Now there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  The temperature was in the 60s now, and the sun was at a higher angle.  As long as we were running into the wind, I never felt hot.  This out-and-back section wasn’t into the wind.   For the first time in the race, I felt hot and sweaty.

I eventually crested the hill and started running down the ramp to Beach Boulevard.  Here, I was able to pick up my pace a little.  I turned onto Beach Boulevard and ran past the south side of MGM Park.  Then I made a left turn and ran along the east side of the stadium.

At the 26 mile sign, I checked my time.  For the first time, it was absolutely obvious.  I couldn’t break 3:25.  With the pressure off, I relaxed a little.

There was one more sharp turn before entering the stadium.  It was almost a U-turn.  Then I ran onto the baseball field and around the warning track until I got to the finish line.  I finished in 3:25:12.

The finisher medal is in the shape of Mississippi, but the artwork also features palm trees and a crab.

My first priority after finishing was finding a bathroom.  I looked around, but didn’t see any port-o-potties.  As I walked past the medical tent, I stepped inside.  I said, “I’m OK, but I need the closest bathroom.”  One of the volunteers pointed to where the stadium bathrooms were.  I had to walk up the stadium steps, but it was worth it.  The stadium had real bathrooms.

They had a variety of post-race food and beverages.  The food was all hot.  They had pasta, jambalaya with shrimp, and pulled pork sandwiches.  The beverages included beer, water, Powerade, and a protein drink.  On our race bibs, we each had six tear-off tags for food or beer.  The people serving the food weren’t collecting the tags, so some people got as many as six beers.  I had two cans of Coors Light, but I was far more interested in the food.

After eating, I retrieved my gear bag.  In the morning, I needed my warm-up layers.  After the race I didn’t.  I stayed in the finish area for a long time, talking to friends, and I was perfectly comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt.  It turned into a nice sunny day.

I went to the results tent, where I discovered I won my age group.  My award was a poster that I haven’t unrolled yet.  I’ll wait until I get it home.

While I was eating post-race food, I was in a position to watch runners who were still doing the out-and-back.  I saw two of my friend and later met them in the finish area.

In the afternoon, I went over to the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, which was right next to Beau Rivage.  They had a pizzeria that I wanted to try for dinner.  They also had a sports bar, where I was able to watch the Vikings game.

For weeks, I was anxiously awaiting an opportunity to see if I could run faster now than I could in October in the Chicago Marathon.  This wasn’t the right race to try.  It’s a fast enough course, but the wind made it too difficult.  I’ll keep training and wait for another opportunity.

Despite the wind, I enjoyed this race.  There were a lot of positives, and it was nice to see the Biloxi area again.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:25:12

Average Pace:  7:50 

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  394

Mississippi Marathons/Ultras:  4

Boston Qualifiers:  130