My original goal when I set out was to try and get somewhere around a 3:10 time. At the time, I had been doing a lot of threshold and similar speed workouts. My previous open marathon time was in the 3:50's, and I thought that with the speed improvements (which saw knocking huge chunks of time off my half marathon time, from 1:55 to 1:40 to 1:35 and finally to sub-1:30), I could potentially hit that range given the volume push at the end of IM training. As time went on, however, it became more and more clear that it wasn't going to happen. Although my VDOT for a half marathon supported the idea of a 3:07-3:10 marathon, I started to realized that training for an IM marathon was very different than training for an open marathon.
So with the idea of 3:10 pretty much out the window, I had to do what I could with the training time left after Lake Placid. After a 4-5 week recovery period, I ended up having time for two 2.5 hr long runs (around 18 miles each), one two hour long run, and three half marathons for a total of six core marathon training runs. The question was how to execute those half marathons for maximum benefit - go for time, or just treat them as a way to pile up mileage. In the end I decided to push them, thinking that 90-100 minutes at high intensity would be more beneficial than, say, 120 minutes at easy intensity. Additionally, those six core workouts were supplemented with a threshold workout, a hill workout and filler easy paced workouts throughout the week.
I flew down to DC the day before, checked into the hotel, and headed out for packet pickup. Once I got to the venue, and saw the ridiculous line for getting my bib number, I started settling into the idea that this might take a few hours. The line was that long. Eventually I found the end of the line (yes, it actually took some searching, as the line crawled and snaked around and around), and to my surprise, it was actually moving rather quickly. Everyone was orderly, and it moved at a slow walk pace. Pathetically slow for wanting to get mall Christmas shopping done, but downright speedy for a long line. Within 10 minutes, I was in the tent, and speaking with a marine behind the desk to get my bib. Within another three minutes, I was out. Yup - that long line was done with in < 15 minutes.
If this was a prelude to how well things were to be run, I was damn impressed.
After getting the bib, I found that I had to join another line to get into the expo, and the expo is where the shirt and clear plastic bags were. This line was a little slower (there was security screening), but it was also a lot shorter. All told, probably another 15-20 minutes.
Once inside, I found out that yup - there was yet another line for the shirt and bag pickup. By this time, I was wondering if there was a line to get in line - but fortunately everything overall was moving along swiftly, and this line did as well. However, about halfway through the line we hit what could have been a major snafu for me - we were told they were all out of clear plastic bags for morning clothes drop off. Normally I don't check gear in at the beginning of a race, but in this case, I was planning on heading out from the hotel around 6am, leaving about 2 hours before the start of the race to get to the provided shuttle, take said shuttle to the start line, get everything prepared, and drop off my clothes bag. And with it being late October, I didn't want to do all that in my running shorts and shirt - it'd be a tad cold. So, I was kinda depending on that bag. So when we were told there were none left, but that we'd still need to use a clear plastic bag, I was thinking my only option would be to randomly walk into stores and ask if they had clear plastic bags.
Fortunately, someone nearby was resourceful, and found a bag that someone had thrown out. There was only one in that trash barrel, but there were other trash barrels throughout the expo. So I did what I had to do - I went diving into trash barrels until I found one that contained a discarded plastic bag. I ended up scoring one that wasn't in too bad shape - it was relatively close to the top, so it only had a few wrappers on top of it, but was pretty clean otherwise. Score one for me, but minus one for the Marines - how can you run out of bags like that?
After getting the bib, shirt and bag, I headed back to the hotel for the night. After getting all my gear sorted out and ready, I set my alarm for 5am and was feeling sleepy and passed out by 10pm.
I woke up Sunday morning, grabbed my stuff and headed down to the lobby. After about 5 minutes of seeing other people waiting in the lobby for the hotel shuttle to take us to the MCM shuttle, I decided (with about 6-8 other people) to just walk it to the MCM shuttle location, a few blocks away. We got to the shuttles and guess what? Yup, another line! I actually debated walking to the nearest Metro station, but soon realized that this shuttle took us directly to the starting area (whereas the Metro doesn't). It was only like 6:15 anyway, so once on the shuttle, I'd still have plenty of time. Fortunately, once again, this line moved rather swiftly, and I was on the shuttle within about 20 minutes.
The shuttle dropped us off and we had a short 5-10 minute walk to the starting area near the Pentagon. I bummed around a bit, spending most of the time inside a tent (it was getting chilly outside, and though it was a tent without sides, it was still warmer than outside) until it was time to hit a porta-potty, shed the outer clothes and then head to the start line. I initially lined up in the 3:40-3:59 (or so) corral, but eventually decided to head up a bit more, because I was thinking I'd probably be closer to 3:30 or so. While waiting in line, I chatted with a person who had done this race multiple times before. I mentioned that I heard that the first five miles is a total cluster before it opens up, and he said that it is heavily populated, but you can still run - but don't spend energy bobbing and weaving around people. Just run at the pace and conserve energy. Seemed like good, simple advice. Somewhere around this time, I saw a pacer with a 3:35 flag, and figured that would be a good place to be. Additionally, I figured the cluster of people would help keep me honest with going at a nice, easy pace in the beginning so that I was properly warmed up.
After the gun went off, I did in fact find that I could run, but it was also pretty dense with people. I kept the 3:35 pacer well within view - sometimes catching up on a slight downhill or if there was clear room ahead of me, sometimes falling behind on an incline or if things tightened up a bit. The first few miles were in the 8-8:30 range, which was just about perfect. It also occurred to me at this time that this would be an opportunity to start testing execution strategies for a marathon. If I want to get to qualify for the Boston Marathon, I'd have to start figuring out my pacing strategy for the marathon distance - and that would mean running a few marathons as I tweak things. So, this would be my start - run the first three miles at an easy pace before attempting to setting into anything resembling a marathon pace (which, according to my VDOT, should be in the 7:09 range, but there was no way in hell that would happen - not with the training I've been doing, which has been very non-marathon specific). I'd be happy with 7:40, but realistically that might be a stretch as well. Basically, I decided to try the EN strategy - fairies, gum drops, unicorns, ice cream and running defensively until mile 18. At that point, I could assess what I had left in the tank, and start to turn myself inside out and get mean and nasty. I know it works for an IM marathon - but I didn't know if it'd work for an open one.
As three miles came and went at an 8ish pace, I decided to keep the pace until five miles. Partly because I wasn't feeling comfortable with being able to go faster and still keep things together for the long haul, but also because I was still pretty boxed in, and a lot of effort would have to be expended in order to go at a faster pace. Five miles became six, which became eight, still at the 8ish pace, and still fairly boxed in. It was around the 9-10 mile marker that I looked up and realized that perhaps there were so many people because we were all chasing the 3:35 pacer. Looking ahead of the pacer, it seemed that there was some more clear space - if I could get ahead of the pacer, I might be in better shape. So over the next half mile or so, I managed to squeak ahead of the pacer and found myself, finally, able to run with significantly more space. Still people around, to be sure - but no longer did I have to worry about making contact with someone else's feet.
Around this time I was heading towards Hains Pt, and this part of the course was a long stretch of flat, grassy park. Hand made signs came and went every 30 feet for the entire down and back segment along the East Potomac Park - about 4 miles worth. Some were funny, some not so much, some customized, etc. It provided a nice distraction, reading them every few seconds, for a good chunk of time (one of them even had a message eluding to that). At the tip of Hains Point was the halfway mark, and I saw that I was at about 1:47 - fairly on track for a 3:30-ish pace. I still felt pretty good as well, which was a good sign. I had successfully held back a bit in the start, and if I wanted to finish under 3:30, I'd have to pick things up a bit, which was within the realm of possibility. However, I kept reminding myself - not until mile 18. Which, incidentally, was getting closer and closer.
The half mile or so between 15.5-16 was along a stretch with loads of spectators. That is something I forgot to mention until now - the spectators. For virtually the entire course, there are spectators cheering. At many races, you just have spectators in a few key, central areas. Even an IM has long sections with no one but competitors. Not so with the MCM - the only stretch with few spectators was that out and back on Hains Pt. Every other section has spectators cheering. Sometimes a few, but sometimes - like between mile 15 and 16 - the crowd is 3-4 people deep. After that section, the course turns around and goes by the Washington Monument, and along the National Mall to the front of the Capital Building before heading back down the other side of the mall. All the while, filled with people.
By this time, it was about mile 19, and I was starting to feel it a bit. My legs were starting to tighten up, but all things considered, not too awful bad. One thing was for sure, though - up until this point I had not stopped at all, and I wasn't going to stop for a walk break now. It was obvious that other people were feeling it, too - the paces started to slow a bit, peoples strides were getting short, their form starting to fall. I concentrated on keeping my form up, and trying to stay as loose and relaxed as possible. After a few slightly faster (7:45-7:50) miles on the back side of Hains Pt and along the mall, I had returned to an 8ish pace - and while I could maintain it, it was definitely getting tougher. Along this back side of the mall, I saw a guy in front of me locate his family, run to the side, grab his son (at least I assume it was his), pick him up, spin him around, and put him back down. I yelled out 'IF YOU CAN DO THAT YOU AREN'T RUNNING FAST ENOUGH!' When I caught up to him about 100 yds later, he turned back to me and said 'Bullshit. That was all for show - I'm falling apart!' I laughed, said 'Nice work - you fooled me!' and was on my way.
Mile 20 of the course comes right at the foot of a bridge over the Potomac. At this point, it occurred to me that 'the wall' at mile 20 is largely mental. Yes, I was feeling fatigued, but recalling what I felt like at mile 20-21 during my first marathon, or what I felt like during the marathon in Lake Placid - what I was feeling on this day wasn't uncharted territory anymore. While my HR was solidly in the 160's now, I also knew I could maintain that intensity for the duration. The only thing I didn't know was whether the wheels would suddenly fly off the bus. They still felt solid, but there were a couple wobbles.
What was encouraging to me at this point, though, was the number of people who were just done. Either stopped totally to stretch, or taking large walk breaks. Once again, I was reminded of what Coach Rich at EN says - the suck is going to happen, the trick is to just push it back as long as possible. At this point, I was reaping the benefits of taking it easy in the beginning, as I saw a tidal shift in the field as they came back to me.
I didn't bother counting people I passed - I have no idea how many there were, but it was a lot. It wasn't that they stopped in droves, it was just a steady trickle for those last six miles.
I kept plugging along, but by this time I was getting a good idea that breaking 3:30 wasn't going to happen. As I maintained the same RPE, my legs were tightening up more quickly now, and my pace was dropping from the 8ish to 8:15ish or so. By the time I hit mile 23, I felt like I was just barely hanging on. I actually felt like I had the energy, but I was starting to get a tad concerned that a sudden hamstring cramp might develop. I was afraid that if I stopped, I'd really tighten up and suffer as I tried to get moving again, so I felt my best option was to keep moving, but just go slower. So that was the story from miles 24-26. The suck had arrived, and once again I repeated a Coach Rich mantra - it's only going to stop once you reach the finish, so just get it done. That, and the fear of crumpling up into a ball on the sidewalk if I stopped was what kept me moving.
As I approached the finish, I found that a cruel trick had been played on me. A steep hill was right at the end, just before the finish. It wasn't long - on any other run it'd be just another little incline. But after 26.1 miles, I looked at it and just said "are you friggin' kidding me?!" They did have motivational slogans on the pavement, though. One said something about taking that hill. It reminded me of Walter from The Big Lebowski, which made me laugh.
Finally, I crossed the finish line.
While I was a tad bummed that I didn't break 3:30, I also knew I executed really well, and all things considered, did the best I could have done. First, I negative split, which is tough to do. Second, I witnessed just how effective running defensively during the first 18 miles can be, as I saw people dropping off left and right after the wall at mile 20. So in the end, it seems like a way to summarize execution of a marathon can be summed up in two questions: did you negative split, and did you finish with nothing left? If the answer to both questions is 'yes', then a great performance was put up. I'm sure additional marathon-specific training would have helped, but that just wasn't in the training cards this year. It was very similar to the finish in Lake Placid - so relatively close to a milestone (under 12 hours), but in the end I'm very happy with the result because I know that I gave it everything I had to give, and really left nothing on the table.
Oh, one last thing. I'm not one to get emotional about race finishes or anything, but something happened after finishing that surprised me. After crossing the line, I walked through the corral for a bit before there were lanes set up. In each lane were 2-3 Marines handing out medals. Normally at a race, you cross, the volunteer puts your medal on, says congratulations, you say thanks, and move on. This was different. For every person, one of the Marines put the medal around their neck, stood at attention, and gave a salute. The other Marine extended his hand to give a handshake. Something about it seemed more... genuine... than you typically get from a volunteer at the finish line of an event. I don't know what it was, but it got to me a little.
Garmin Data: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/396799033
