Perfect weather, my PR course, lots of training miles in, what could go wrong? Apparently, lots, as my race turned into a death march.
I ran a 3:19 at Steamtown in 2010, and was excited to return. I was hoping to get a BQ of under 3:30, hopefully well enough under to actually get in for 2016, as opposed to my BQ-0:23 for 2015.
Steamtown is a downhill race, from Forest City, PA to Scranton. It drops about 1000 feet, mostly in the first 6 miles. I looked forward to putting a couple minutes in the bank on those miles, and holding onto 8 minute mile pace or a bit better the rest of the way. 8 minute pace is almost a dead on 3:30. I felt like I possibly had a 3:25 in me. I wanted 3:28.
Pre-race, I slept restfully right up to the alarm, had breakfast, found a parking spot close to the finish, and hopped on a bus to the start, where we waited in a warm gym. Mid 30s for the start, so I wore a throwaway long sleeve shirt over my race clothes.
The race starts, and its clogged early. I remember this a bit from 2010 when I actually saw a guy in front of me walking in the first 200 yards. I checked the chip and gun times and 3 of the slowest 10 people started on or near the line, even though they have pace signs for where to line up. Frustrating, but within 1/4 mile or so I was running pretty free. Mile 2 is a big uphill, but mile 3-6 is a steady drop and I thought I was moving well. But at mile 3 I was right at 24:00, and at mile 6 I was only about 20 seconds under. Also, whenever I tossed my long sleeve, I lost my favorite running cap along with it, not noticing until I went to pull it down more to block out the sun and came up empty. Bummer.
After mile 6, the course flattened out. As we went over a bridge, a woman I was running near called out "Hole" to warn about a pot hole, and I told her to not call me names. Somewhere in here I felt a sudden clenching in my innards. I hated to lose time, but I had to find a portajohn, but it was a couple miles before one came, and there were a couple guys waiting. I took some advantage of the downtime to fish out an imodium, gel, and electrolyte. Once I took care of everything, I was about 3 minutes off. I figured I'd just chip away at it and hope I was back on pace by mile 20, when the toughest part of the course hit. However, I was barely putting a dent in the time each mile. Came into the half in 1:47 and a lot of change.
At this point I decided to stop looking at the watch until mile 16 and run by feel, and see where I was at then. I actually felt pretty good, and thought I'd at least get a minute back. 16 came, and I had lost a few more seconds. OK, let's check again at 18, while pushing just a bit more. Over 3 minutes off at 18, and I knew I wasn't coming back. 18-20 was at least respectable, but at 20 I was finished. Fatigue settled into my hips, my back and knees took turns hurting, while my feet ached full-time. I started walking some. Then more than some. Once things went off the tracks it came crashing down, and with a 50 miler coming 20 days later, I resigned myself to mailing the rest of the race in. The first of 3 hills hit and I walked it all. I remember that last time I handled the hills very well, but this time they defeated me. The 100 mile monster looms in my mind and I wonder if I'll feel like this with 75 miles to go in that race. On the second bigger hill there was a big neighborhood party going. I just wanted to stop and join in. Someone was handing out dixie cups of beer and I took one. We were running on one side of the road with the other lane open to traffic in both directions, which I couldn't really figure out. Neither could the pickup truck driver who came cruising down our side, right behind me even though I was off to the side with room to get by. Finally a volunteer yelled at him to get over. Pretty sure he knew him by name, assuming his name is Hey Idiot.
A bit later another volunteer told us "There's a light at the end of the tunnel." I replied "I think it's an oncoming train." Finally I made the final turn, about a mile left, and I managed to keep moving up the final hill and into the finish. 3:51 something. Nearly 11 minute mile pace for the last 10K. Ugh.
Post-race, I walked back to the car and had a beer and then walked back to the lawn by the finish. Found a bench and chatted a bit with others, and sat back in the sun and napped a bit. On my way back to the hotel I picked up a pizza and had half of that, and slept more, woke up for awhile, and slept more. Not sure I've ever been this tired. I think I just wasn't at full health. For my stomach issues, I had an instant breakfast drink as part of breakfast, and I think that was too much milk. I don't know if that ruined my race or just cost me 3 minutes. I feel like it was more the latter.
What else went wrong? I'm not trying to make excuses, just trying to figure out why my spring marathon I felt unprepared for went so well (3:29) and this one after a decent summer of training didn't. I think my lead-up to the race was bad for a goal race. No, I know it was bad. Two weeks before I did a 5K on a Friday and a trail marathon on a Saturday. Didn't race hard, but went harder than intended. Then the week before I paced a friend for the last 20 miles of a 100 miler. Lots of walking, but 2 steep 2500 foot climbs and drops. Usually that doesn't affect me much, but my quads ached for days, and I still felt them as late as Thursday. By race day they seemed fine but probably weren't all recovered. A couple days post-Steamtown, and my quads are fine but calves are sore, so go figure. In any case, I never really did feel a good spring in my legs.
Next up: Mountain Masochist 50 miler on November 1. I've had two pretty mediocre races here, with rough going for about 15 miles each time, so I'm hoping for some redemption.
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