HPb 84 - Austin marathon

You wouldn't know it by reviewing my training log and the zillions of nine and ten (and worse...) minute miles there, but I knew I was going to break 3:10 and qualify for Boston at the Austin marathon. So while it may have surprised a lot of people, it was just another day at the office for me.

Race started 15 minutes late, just one of MANY screw-ups by the folks in charge. But, no big deal, just tried real hard to survive the initial rush of 13,000+ runners and keep the 3:10 group within sight. Made it to mile one unscathed in 7:45. The 3:10 group was well ahead but it wasn't time to panic.

Continued running very easily. Slowly picked things up and caught the back of the 3:10 group around 2.5 miles. Feeling good, no sign of a lingering hangover at all. Ran south on Congress Ave for what felt like forever, but it was good to see my old town once again. We soon turned off Congress onto some back alley with a lot of dumpsters. I remember thinking, "I'd expect this on a hash, but it's not really what I think of when I run a big city marathon." I guess the entire group was thinking along the same lines, as someone yelled out, "If you're from out of town, welcome to Austin!"

Hit three miles in 21:30 and things felt too easy. I thought about throwing caution to the wind here and taking off, but I forced myself to remain near the pack. For the next few miles I would find myself getting ahead of the group, and would have to force myself to slow down. Saw an old trail running buddy, Jason, here. Nice to catch up with him. Also saw BLOS just ahead. He was running the half marathon, trying to keep BQ pace. I caught up to him several times and each time I'd yell at him to pick things up. He ended up PR'ing.

The next few miles were more of the same. I'd start to pull away from the 3:10 group, and I'd force myself to slow down and wait for them. I was running at least ten yards in front of them to avoid the huge mass of people there, but I always made sure they weren't too far behind.

Shortly after passing by the aid station at RunTex I saw a sign that made me laugh and would stay in my head for a good chunk of the race. It had the directions for running a marathon the right way:

1. Approach
2. Pass
3. Laugh
4. Repeat

Good stuff!

Continued down Cesar Chavez (I think it's a city ordinance that every race in the town must include that road), around SFA high school, and way out Lake Austin Blvd, a stretch that I always hate running. It was here that I could feel a change in the atmosphere around the 3:10 peeps. I didn't know it at the time, but I was about to start the "big" climb.

Looks like we went from about 450 feet above sea level at mile 7.5 all the way to 750 feet just after 18 miles. A whopping 350 foot climb in 10+ miles! If I get a shitty parking spot in Manitou I hafta climb more than that to get to my apartment. But hey, not everyone is lucky enough to live on a mountain.

So the fun began, though I missed out since it was pretty flat to me. Kept running well, feeling good. Hit ten miles in 1:11:27, decently ahead of my goal pace (1:12:31). So after ten miles I was looking at a 3:09 finish if I could keep up the pace. Boston or bust!

Shortly after 11 miles I heard, "why are you letting me pass you on a hill, brownie?" It was Wiley, who was busy running some weird varied pace workout that would take him painfully close to his all time PR. I originally let him go, but soon after he passed I decided not to keep running like a sissy. Slowly picked the pace up and soon caught Wiley. I was gonna talk some smack to him to get him to come along, but he was having vagina cramps. He looked pretty bad and I figured he'd run 3:45 or something lame but he must have rebounded pretty well, finishing in 3:10.

Kept picking up the pace and picking people off. Began to pass A LOT of folks at this point. Hit the halfway point in 1:33:33. This immediately made me think back to last year's Platte River half marathon. Despite staying up all night partying and feeling like shit the morning of the race, I ran 1:26. I'm in much better shape now than I was then, and I was feeling much better, so I had this brief moment where I really thought I could break three hours. And I went for it.

The next seven miles would be the best part of the race for me. I'd average 6:55 per mile through here. Was pushing about as hard as I could, thinking I had a chance to go sub three. Didn't care that my early surge could backfire and cause me to lose the BQ. I had a shot at glory, and I went after it.

But it's not a Disney movie, and after fighting to get down to a predicted 3:03 finish at about 20 miles, the wheels came off. I started to feeling twinges in my left hamstring and calf. Looked like the oxygen advantage I had received all day was finally giving way to the reality of training at ten minute pace. In 2005 when I ran Austin, I was on three hour pace through 20 miles when the same leg cramped up, forcing me to walk most of the final 10K and finish in 3:20. So when the leg issue looked like it may repeat itself, I backed off.

But backing off didn't mean giving up. I was still running hard. I was just paying for it a lot more now. Around mile 21 I caught Larry. Of course I made a snide comment about how he was falling back because his coach sucked ass.

Shortly after mile 21 the suffering increased greatly. My left leg kept getting worse and the pain started hammering the rest of my body. Luckily, I soon ran into the HCTR folks. I knew a group of trail runners would have salt out the wazoo, and Pete grabbed a few tablets and gave me a glass of beer to wash 'em down with. This solved the cramping issues for the next few miles, so in effect it may have saved my race.

I continued to run hard but it was tough to keep going. I ran right past one of my best friends, Twin Peaks (who was out cheering on the runners), and didn't even notice until I had passed her. I also suddenly became unable to do basic math, as I couldn't keep track of pace in my head and just knew the 3:10 group was right behind me, though in reality they were over five minutes back at this point. That was a blessing in disguise though, as it kept me running scared.

Ran down Duval, a stretch I've run countless times when I used to spend weekends in Austin. Ran past the Crown, luckily it wasn't open or I may have been tempted to drop out there. 24 miles, and even though I'm at 3:05 pace now I once again flub up the calculation and swear the 3:10 group is about to pass me. So I hammer up Dean Keaton and down Guadalupe, using the crowds on the UT campus to push me on. I'm now running about as hard as I can, leaving everything out there.

Coming down MLK we pass a church, and the pastor is outside holding a sign that says "The End Is Near" and it cracks me up. Religious people with a sense of humor! I can tell I'm not in Colorado Springs anymore!

I make the turn onto San Jacinto and hear the hashers cheering for me at the beer check. Nacheaux runs a can of PBR to me as I pass the 800 meters to go sign. I hit the hash beer check in just over three hours. I'm smoked, and after I climb the final hill I jog the last .1 mile down Congress Ave, finishing in 3:04:10. My third fastest time ever.

It was such a great feeling crossing that finish line, getting that BQ out of the way, and knowing that for the next two days I could drink myself into a stupor. Got my huge finisher's medal, got a bomber of Pabst, and then just hung out looking for old Austin friends of mine. Sure was glad I got to see a bunch of 'em.

Some thoughts:

-The altitude advantage was huge over the first 18 miles. Probably helped me run 30 seconds per mile faster than I could have had I been doing the Denver marathon instead. That advantage ended after the 18 mile mark though, and I had to push as hard as I've ever pushed in a race to keep from completely falling apart.

-At the 19 mile mark I passed, very quickly, two musclebound tri-dorks. As I went by the duo, I heard one of them say to the other, "you'll see a lot of carnage from here on in. People just don't know how to train. Look at this guy, he's fucking wearing trail shoes. What the hell is he doing out here?" What I was doing was embarassing the two, on their home course, right at the point that separates the men from the boys. Pussies.

-There was a lot of carnage though. Over the final 10K, which I was averaging a very hard fought 7:14 per mile, I passed a lot of people walking, one guy sitting on the curb crying, and at least two people who had stopped and were trying to massage out cramps. I often make fun of the marathon distance (oh, you ran a marathon? how cute!) but if you run it hard, as opposed to just run to finish, it's a fucking rough race.

-Not everyone is a hero on race day. As I was walking back to the hash beer check to root on some friends, I saw a runner who had collapsed onto the 26 mile marker. He was out cold, and the EMT's were about to put him on a stretcher, ending his race with less than a downhill quarter mile to go.

-It had the numbers, but Austin has a long way to go if it wants to be a big time marathon. A late start, retardedly deficient number of shitters at the starting line, running out of t-shirts, long and boring sections of the course with no crowd, and a bunch of other SNAFUs. Austin has the best running community of any place I've lived, but the marathon definitely didn't reflect that. Salida is run much better and I only pay $35 for that (and the shirts are much better).

-After this effort I don't think I'll need to change much in my training to PR In Boston.

-My quads are still hurting like hell today, three days after the marathon. Stupid road races. I'm a lot more sore now than after I finished Hardrock and Leadville. But I did get two hour long runs in on Mon and Tues, one at the Greenbelt and one on Town Lake. I've now run 11 straight days, 17 of the past 18 days, and 28 of the last 30 days.