Background
This is it. I know it. My 5th attempt at 26.2 and if the trend of the previous 4 are any indication, this will be my first sub-4 finish, hopefully well below 4 hours. A lot of things going in my favor right now:
-I'm another year older as a runner, and another year stronger
-the course has changed to become pan cake flat at the finish
-I've trained. a lot. I even read a book by Jack Daniels and have been following it to the letter.
This is going to be easy peasy lemon squeezy...
Pre-Race
I woke up more rested than I've ever been before a race. I must've crashed out a 9 and Zoey must've known the importance of a good night's rest; she opted not to kick me in the face in the middle of the night. Score.
The plan: meet at running bestie Janelle's house so she can bus me and 4 others (Na, J-Nice, Lyn and tRACEy) to the start. side - Janelle hasn't run since February. Slacker, right? pregnancy has her sidelined - end side. Simple enough, right? Simple quickly turned into a debacle, which included tRACEy running out her door and jumping in the bus half naked.
We arrived just minutes before the gun to find the largest crowd I've seen in my 5 years of marathonin'. The half marathon addition to this event has brought everyone and their mothers to Balboa Park at 5am in the morning.
The National Anthem. Some stretch. The gun. We were off...sorta.
Race
With the addition of thousands of Halfers (yes, that's what I call them), the corrals were packed and had to be at least a half mile deep. It was a mess and I was glad I was closer to the front w/ my expected finish time.
This is me, just after the Halfers split from the fullsies heading into downtown. The nice mile gradual downhill is dope.
For the most part, the new course was the same for the first half. Some slight tweeks lead the full marathon runners through Petco Park, home of the San Diego Padres. After a few miles downtown, the race starts. Here's me seeing my friends at mile six or so, smiling as I spot my giant head plastered on poster board. based on the smile alone, you can tell I'm in pretty good spirits.
I say 'starts' b/c after the Fullsies (patent pending) make the left turn on 10th street, we start to ascend the only real 'hill' in the race. It's gradual, but it still a challenge and with race day temperatures being 10+ degrees higher than the average for this time of year, it hurt a little more than usual. At about the same time we reunite w/ the Halfers again. But not the halfers we broke apart from earlier. Those guys are well ahead of us and probably on Friars road by now. Mile 9 for the full marathoners abrutly merges w/ mile 5 of the halfers. If it's possible to road rage as a pedestrian, this is where it would happen. I got to mile 9 in approximately 81 minutes (a 9min/pace). thousands of other got to mile 5 in the same amount of time. I'm just saying, that's not effective. I'm used to bobbing and weaving in the early stages of a race, but miles 9-10? I was fatiguing fast.
I got to the half marathon point just as the sun came out. It was hot, but now it just got almost unbearable. 14 is where I strategically placed the wife and kid to refill my bottles (perpetuem goes bad after 2 hours), still technically on pace, I knew i didn't have much left in my tank. My legs were shot, from my feet to the top of my thighs. I felt broken and I had only run 14 miles? The physical shortcomings turned me into a mental wreck. Jg excited to see me, was met w/ 'I can't...' she was to meet me at mile 21 just before Fiesta Island, but I advised her to abort; I was going to be able to get there by our predetermined time.
15-20 were long miles. Long sad run/walk miles. I walked through an aid station where a volunteer decided I looked like I needed some encouragement. "let's go man, you're stronger than this! let's go!" (obviously using my exposed arms as a basis for judging my physical fitness). And as he patted me on the back I mustered up enough energy to trot out of his eye sight. I needed more than encourangement.
At the top of East Mission bay, I saw J-nice as I made my way back from a short out & back at 18 or so. She had a tremendous amount of pep in her step for her itty bitty frame and for someone who was on mile 17 of 26.2. She was going to catch me. And catch me she did, right before Fiesta Island at mile 21 or so. J-nice (so aptly named), made a futile attempt to get me going, saying 'I'm not leaving without' and other nonsense. Even Kate Winslet had to let go of Leonardo. My race had ended miles ago, there's no way I was going to end hers. I've never been so proud to have anyone pass me during a race and was happy to have been a part of her first marathon journey.
The Fiesta Island loop, I've trained for. I knew it was going to suck. As much as it sucked in training, it sucked much more knowing I was running w/o a purpose and that I had 4 miles worth of time to reflect on my failure. I passed the SDTC aid station w/ .8 miles to go and picked it up some, might as well make the finishing pictures look good right? This is me w/ less than a quarter mile left.
4:39:46. wow. what a melt/let down
Post-Race
I grabbed my medal, a water and a wet towel from a volunteer. The towel's presumably to cool you off, maybe clean you up a little. I used it to conceal my tears. That's right, that grown ass 31 year old man who found himself an isolated spot just past the finish line to weep, was me. Heartbroken w/ dissappointment, I could have sat there forever with no direction. Not just immediately (i.e. do I hit the beer garden or do I back track to my friends and family), but for the days, weeks and months to come (i.e. am I really a runner?).
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