Seneca Creek 50K and B&A 13.1 - You're never over

A lot of icing and a week off from running after the Mid-Maryland 50K allowed my shin to recover pretty completely.  I eased back into running with mostly shorter runs and speed workouts to keep my mileage low that first week back (unlike during previous attempts at recovery).  I actually had some pretty sweet track workouts that week which indicated that I at least haven't lost any speed since the fall (endurance, maybe). 

The next week was the week of the B&A Trail Half Marathon, the single half marathon that I run every year.  This was to be my fifth B&A Half...and I'm pretty sure it's the only half marathon I've ever run.  Usually, I train somewhat through B&A but race it hard after taking a day or two easy beforehand, and every year my time has dropped.  With the injuries and on/off nature of my running the past couple months, I wasn't sure I'd be able to PR again, but figured I'd at least run it hard and see what happened.  B&A was on Sunday.  Six days prior, on Monday, I went out for a workout on tired legs.  It was 15 miles with 3 hard miles in the middle.  My legs were pretty trashed going in to this, so the first 5 miles and last 7 miles were substantially slower than usual, but I did manage 18:29 for those middle 3 miles.  But that was all-out, and last year my first 3 and last 3 miles at B&A were both under 18:20.  I thought my legs would recover a bit throughout the week, but still figured a PR might be a stretch.

Then I was persuaded to sign up for the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K.  It was kind of a tough decision.  Obviously it was tempting because it is a nearby trail ultra with lots of cool people.  CONS: really early Saturday wake-up, potential relapse into injury.  PROS: free for military, cool people, lots of training value if injuries don't flare up.  Of course in the end, the PROS outweighed the CONS and I was getting dressed at 3:45am on Saturday. 

Rain throughout the night on Friday promised muddy trails for the event on Saturday morning.  This was a cool event - nice and low key, but with a great turn-out.  There was a marathon and a 50K which were approximated to be 30 and 34 miles, respectively.  Energy was high in the crowd under the pavilion awaiting the casual 8:00 start.  At the RD's command, the swarm was off down a paved path for about a mile before being introduced to the muddy singletrack on which we would spend the rest of the morning.

I had nixed the idea of saving my legs for the weekend once I decided not to go for the 13.1 PR, so they were feeling pretty heavy.  I was out to have a good time, and I brought my camera along for the run:

Capt. Smith making haste in the early miles

Captain (Mosi) Smith and I ran together for a while and fell into a rhythm.  The trails were indeed muddy, which makes two slippery 50K's in a row now.  This one wasn't quite as bad as Mid-Maryland, and the mud was only bad for the first half and the last few miles - but I'm hoping this trend doesn't continue for Hat Run in a few weeks.  In any case, the mud is still a lot of fun.  Within a few miles, though, the best shoe-cleaning opportunity of the race came with a nice stream crossing.

The weather was actually pretty nice - overcast, but not raining and not cold.  In some of those early-middle miles, I tried picking up my pace a couple times to see how it felt, but I definitely didn't have it in my legs, so I just stayed calm and took in the trail.  Soon enough, I got to the aid station by the lake, where the "marathoners" continued down the trail and the "50Kers" took a tour around the lake. It was about two hours in and I was comfortable, but during that lake loop I started feeling it a bit.  So when I got to the aid station, I shoved a bunch of stuff into my mouth, saw some salt pills and took those, and filled up my bottle.  All that helped me for a few miles, but somewhere around mile 22 I entered a relatively low point.  It wasn't terrible, but I definitely slowed down.  Then, after a couple miles, I started taking short walk breaks up some of the little hills.   Again, not a terribly low point, as I remember running pretty strong for a mile or so during which I passed some spectators who said I was at mile 26. 

I was running decently, but tired, when I got to the second-to-last aid station.  This one had lots of good cookies and stuff, which I enjoyed.  Out of curiosity, I asked one of the vollies there what mile I was at.  He said, "We think this is about 22 miles if you're in the marathon, and there are about 7 miles to go."  Loved that response. 

There was about 4 miles to the last aid station, and then 2.5 or so to the finish.  Here is where I hit a legitimately low point, and re-learned something that I've already been taught multiple times in this sport.  I left the aid station slowly and was quickly reduced to walking through some exceptionally muddy sections.  The 4 miles until the next aid station seemed incredibly long.  I was beginning to pity myself and I felt like I couldn't run another step.  I was just out there to have a good time and take it easy; why was I feeling like this?  I hoped that I could do a walk/shuffle combo and cover those 4 miles in 45 minutes or so. 

Then I realized...I've been here before.  I've felt this, and much worse.  And if there's one basic thing that those experiences have taught me, it's that you're never over.  These things pass...just be patient, walk if you have to, and stop feeling sorry for yourself.  You're never over, and you know it.

That was some of my self-talk, I guess.  That, combined with a little bit of almost-done-so-just-get-this-over-with adrenaline, had me running strong for another two miles to the last aid station, and then 2 or 3 after that to the finish.  Those last 4 or 5 miles were definitely my fastest and strongest of the day.  Weird how that works.

I made a quick stop at that last aid station and got out quick when they said it was just two miles to go (was definitely more).  I was at 4:41:something, and I thought maybe a sub-5 hour time was possible.  I ran hard all the way to the finish, except for the steep little hill right after that aid station, and came across in 4:59:49.

That felt like a very good run and (most of) it was a lot of fun.  As I said before, there were a lot of great people to hang out with afterward.  Jackie, Alan, and Steve came down from Delaware, David and Meg came from Baltimore, and of course Capt Smith and Mitch (my carpool) from Annapolis. 

A full day in great company on muddy trails

The best news about this 50K was that none of my injuries flared up at all.  My shin and ankle felt perfectly fine the entire time.  And as an added bonus, I didn't chafe or get any blisters, either.

To get the full training value of the weekend, the next day was the B&A Trail Half Marathon with the team.  My legs were definitely sore, but I was happy with a very evenly paced 1:29:02.  Like last year, the first and last 3 miles were strikingly similar: 20:11 and 20:09, respectively.  I also had the privilege of running in the last half mile or so with my mom, who finished her first half marathon with impressive but not surprising strength.

All in all, I was very happy with the weekend.  With my first race of the year (race race, that is) coming up in a few weeks at HAT Run, this weekend showed me that I've still got some good fitness despite all those weeks off.  As long as I stay healthy now, I should be well on my way back into racing shape, and maybe even good for a marathon PR if I decide to go for one at Boston.  

Mid-Maryland Ultra 50k and other musings

The first ever Mid-Maryland Ultra 50k on February 11th was a big success, especially for an inaugural event.  I was very attracted to the idea of this event when I first found it online.  It was a five-loop course on reportedly fast trails in Elkridge, MD, just outside Baltimore.  The five loops made it very family-friendly, and it was the closest-to-home ultra I've done (or, closest-to-school, I should say).  I was expecting a small race, which it was - I think all of the starters fit under the pavilion at the starting line.  However, included in that small crowd were apparently some pretty good runners.

After Bandera, it took basically exactly two weeks to start running again injury-free.  That pain I had been experiencing in my foot was finally gone.  I did a couple of test runs at slow paces, and felt like it had completely recovered.  To convince myself 100% that I was healthy, I went out for a 20-miler on January 23rd.  I kept a pretty good pace and even splits, and felt no pain, just a little out of shape.  I was incredibly happy to be able to get back to running again.  So, of course, I didn't hesitate when LT asked me if I'd like to join him for 10x400m on the track at lunch the next day.

I did what every runner knows to resist doing.  On the afternoon of the 11th day running again, I began feeling a little pain in my shin after having done a hard tempo workout that morning.  On the 12th day, I rested it to see how it would feel - a little sore/stiff, but not terrible.  On the 13th day, I ran almost 34 miles on pavement to visit my brother in DC, and then my shin hurt a bit.

Somewhere in the middle of those 13 days was when I signed up for the Mid-Maryland Ultra.  I believe it was on Jackie's birthday, after our 24 miles for her 24th on the beautiful Mason Dixon Trail.

Jackie & Steve winding along a mossy stream

So basically, I had 11 days of good runs, followed by a rest day, followed by a long run that caused some pain.  There were some very quality miles in those 13 days though.  Two really solid 20+ milers on roads.  Two really good track workouts (each of them the day after the 20+ers.  24 looonnngg slow miles on the Mason Dixon Trail for Jackie's birthday.  That trail is probably the most scenic/challenging/generally fantastic trail I've run on anywhere in this area. 

Climbing one of many steep hills/rock piles

My favorite - pine trees! ...(I love pine trees.)

The other good memorable run was from Annapolis to DC to visit my brother.  It was a little bit of a gamble on my shin, and it turned out to be not such a great idea, but I wasn't in much discomfort during the run.  Definitely an interesting run, in bright green knee-high compression socks and my obnoxious red and blue plaid running jacket (had to be visible to the traffic).  It rained lightly for at least the second half of the run, and it was dark by the time I was approaching DC.  I got some looks from folks at bus stops, and my directions got wet and illegible, so I had to make several phone calls to my brother for directions while running.  It took about 4:40 and was actually a pretty safe route, traffic-wise.  Probably something I will do again when I am recovered.

After that, I took a week of icing every day.  My shin felt maybe slightly better each day, but not much.  There was no sharp pain, just soreness.  It's the same leg that was injured post-JFK/pre/post-Bandera.  So coming into the Mid-Maryland Ultra, I wasn't really sure if running the whole thing would be a good idea.  I thought it'd be okay though, since it was 5 loops and I could decide after each loop whether or not I wanted to call it quits.

To make things interesting, a mixture of rain and snow persisted throughout the night and into the morning, leaving the ground and the trees covered in a very pretty little layer of white.

The start - also the aid station and finish

Paying close attention to how my shin felt, I began jogging from the pavilion under which the race started (which I thought was kinda cool).  It felt pretty good actually, but didn't take long to start feeling slightly sore again.  I decided I would take the first loop very easy, and just play it by ear.  It didn't take long to see one familiar face - David Ploskonka.  During the first mile, I saw who I thought was David just a little ahead, and forced myself to stay back.  I had no business running with him, especially on what was supposed to be an easy paced experimental day.  Unfortunately, he was feeling pretty beat, probably from the 100 miler he ran the day before or something (okay, I exaggerate..but only a little).

During the first couple miles, I watched the small lead group run away.  When I signed up for the race, I wanted to run it relatively competitively.  My plan was to take a few days easy before it, and then run it relatively hard without all-out racing.  Instead, with my shin feeling the way it was, I resisted the race at the front and focused on staying comfortable and enjoying the mud.  The best part of the day was that my brother Billy, Jackie, Trent, and my parents were all there.  Getting to see them every 10k made the day even more fun.

I had to poop for most of the first loop.  About halfway through it, I was delightfully surprised by a lone portapot on the side of the path.  My excitement was soon crushed by a lack of toilet paper.  Alas, I continued onward.  Another few miles and the first loop was over, and I released my extra weight in the porta at the start/finish area.  I said hello to my family and got some powerade, etc. at the pavilion before heading out for loop two.

I should mention how slippery the trail was.  Whether it was the wet snow in the open fields of the first mile, or the mudslide singletrack of the second mile, footing was incredibly close to zero for a significant portion of the loop.  Then later in the loop, there were some nice shoe-sucking ankle-deep sections.  I'm not terribly experienced with trails, but I have definitely never run on anything that muddy and slippery.  I never thought running on flat ground could be so difficult.  Turns had to be taken extremely slowly and carefully, and increasing speed only made keeping balance more difficult.  At times, I admit that I was getting frustrated, but in general, it was fun.  The mud did get worse and more slippery with each loop, as 100 or so more pairs of feet had trudged and slid over it.  But I also got a little bit better at running on it and staying upright as the miles passed.

I left the aid station at 52:38 after the first loop.  That was very comfortable and reserved, so I figured I would keep doing that and try to be as consistent as possible loop by loop.

Heading out for another loop

 On the second loop, I noted my footprints in the snow leading up to that lone TP-less portapot a few miles in.  Apparently I was the only one who tried it.  That's the only thought I remember having on the second loop.

I rolled out of the woods again to the sound of my family cheering and had some animal crackers and powerade.  The cool temps meant relatively low hydration needs, so I wasn't carrying a bottle on this run.  A cup or two every 10k was plenty.  Loop 2 was another 52:something, almost identical to loop 1, still feeling comfortable.  My legs were actually feeling a little zapped, but the pace felt fine.  I think the mud was just sucking some of the energy out, and they seemed to loosen up a bit after 2 loops.

Animal crackers and Pepsi

During loop 3, most of the snow had melted.  My portapot footprints were barely visible anymore.  There was a certain turn on the course that I had established by this point as a kind of checkpoint.  I had broken the loop up like this:
1. snowy slippery field
2. extremely slippery mud
3. TP-less portapot (with fading footprints)
4. little paved path section that goes near the road, where people were playing music from a car for the first two loops
5. the 32 minute turn
6. shoe-sucking mud
7. the 46 minute bridge
8. the last few minutes

With these 8 mental sections, plus a couple more little checkpoints along the way -- like the steep asphalt downhill, the steep slippery downhill, the little paved uphill, and more -- each loop went by quickly and without boredom.  Anyway, the 32 minute turn was a certain turn where I looked at my watch for the first time on both the first and second loop, and it read 32 minutes both times.  Same for loop 3.  32 minutes.  That turn was followed by a few minutes worth of what I thought was the fastest part of the loop.  The trail was relatively smooth with a couple downhills, and the mud was less slippery.  Then it was ~15 minutes 'til the end of the loop, during which the shoe-sucking-est part of the course was encountered, followed by the 46 minute bridge (same concept as the 32 minute turn).

My dad told me when I got to the pavilion that I was in something like 8th place, I think.  But I was still totally unconcerned with place.  I left the aid station to begin loop 4 after another spot on 52:something third loop.  Jackie and Trent had run two loops of the course while I was running, and I saw them for the first time at the beginning of loop four.  Jackie decided to get another loop in and keep me company.  I knew her and/or Trent would join me for at least one of the laps, but didn't know which one, so this was a nice treat.

Jackie joins me for a loop!

Three fifths of the race were (was?) now complete.  My shin felt pretty much the same, sore but not painful, and my legs felt better than they did during the second loop.  So I decided to start pushing the push-able sections a little bit.  I was surprised a bit confused, then, that I reached the 32 minute turn at 36 minutes.  I guess I must have dilly-dallied a bit for the first mile or so when Jackie joined me, so I probably started out slower without noticing.  And also, like I said before, I think the course got a little bit harder each time around as the mud got turned up more and more; so a slightly higher effort level was needed to keep the pace consistent.  I took advantage of the faster section after the 32 (36) minute turn, and hit the 46 minute bridge at 48 minutes.  When I came out of the woods at the end of the loop, one of my parents asked if I was alright.  "I'm fine! It's only two minutes!" was my response - while I understand it, I was a little amused by the concern.

Oh, I forgot to mention...there were 2 or 3 times during that 4th loop when I suddenly experienced a sharp pain in my shin, in the same spot that was hitherto just generally sore.  The pain debilitated my stride but lasted only for a few seconds, during which I had to consider walking the rest of the loop.  It didn't last long though, and I think it may have actually made my shin feel a little better once it went away (maybe it just felt very relatively better now).

Anyways, I left the pavilion at 53:50 for my 4th loop, 3:31 for 40k.  Starting loop 5, my legs and shin actually felt the best they had all morning.  My dad told me I was in 4th (was actually 5th apparently) and that the guy ahead of me wasn't very far ahead.  So, what the hell, I thought.  I saw the guy ahead of me on sections of the field as the course doubled back over itself a bit in the first mile, and I was feeling relatively great.  I felt like I was flying across the mud, but apparently wasn't going that much faster than the other loops.  Every once in a while on a straightaway, I would see the blue-shirt-clad fellow up ahead.  I slowly got closer, and going up a little hill just before my portapot, I saw him look back twice, which made me wonder if the layer of brown covering the back of his legs was something more than just mud. He was scared.  (Joking, obviously...just a thought that I remember entering my head to keep myself amused.)

~2 miles into loop 5

Anyways, I trotted along and hit the 32 minute turn in 34 minutes, which genuinely confused me again because I really thought I was running faster this time.  Then I hit the 46 minute bridge in 45-high or 46-low.  Pushing the pace a bit gave me a little leg burn to finish out the race, and by the time I came out of the woods, I had moved up one more place by a comfortable margin.  I finished feeling good in 4:22 even, for a 50:28 final lap.  Then my shin started hurting.

As I write this, I don't know what the times ahead of me were, but they must have run good races because I don't think I ever saw any of them.  As David pointed out after the race, there must not have been anyone who went out real fast and crashed, which is definitely unusual (think: me at Bandera).

So all in all, I was quite pleased with the day, although this is now the second race report in a row that I've written while icing my leg.  The race was a lot of fun though.  I loved having my brother and everybody there.  I kept it very casual for about 3 and a half loops, then decided to pick it up.  My splits were very consistent, which always makes me happy, and my last lap was the fastest (maybe pretty close to the first lap if you take out the toilet breaks, but still).  All of that, plus the muddiest trails I've ever experienced, made for a really fun morning.  The only thing that could have made it better would have been if my shin didn't hurt.  But f*ck shins, life is always better after running a lot of miles.

"You know you can't take the course home with you, you've got half of it on your legs!" -another runner during loop 3

I limped back to the car and for the rest of the day.  I'm still limping a little today (race was yesterday), and I'm pretty bummed knowing that this will probably take at least another week of no running and lots of ice to feel any better before I try running again.  It was worth it, though.  Fun day.

Afterwards, went to Ruby Tuesdays for lunch with Jackie and Trent, then a little shopping and limping around the Inner Harbor.  After driving back to Delaware, I enjoyed some gourmet cupcakes and cheap wine while watching The Ring with my valentine (that movie's still just as scary as it was in middle school).

Oh yeah, I meant to put in a little plug for the race.  It's definitely going to become a great annual event.  Personally, I really enjoyed the 5-loop aspect.  It went by quick and didn't get boring (again, just me personally...some people hate that).  Had it been dry, the course would have been smokin' fast.  In those conditions, 7 or 8 people finished under 4:30.  If it were dry, I think that mark would have been moved down to 4:00, or very close to it.  Yeah, that sounds like a lot, but seriously, I really think the mud and snow made that much difference. ...So good, fast course (or fun and muddy depending on the weather), very spectator-friendly, and a nice central location in Maryland to make it convenient for folks from all over.  I'd definitely return.

Most over-used word of this post: loop. loop loop loop.

Bandera 100K

It's been a frustrating month or two since JFK running-wise, which led to lots of days off and some goal adjusting.  JFK left me with a sore tendon in the top-of-my-foot/bottom-of-my-shin/front-of-my-ankle region.  I started running again the week after JFK after a few days off to recover, and thought it was just residual soreness form the race and that it would go away soon.  But it continued to bother me, and was sore even when I wasn't running.  I would take a couple of days off, then try running on it again, and it would flare up after a mile or two.  Then I would extend the number of rest days between runs, still to no avail.  When Jackie and I went up to the Horseshoe Trail in PA for a fat-ass event in mid-late December, I had taken 4 or 5 days completely off from running, and I thought my foot was feeling good.  I could feel the injury after a few miles again, and it still felt stiff/sore throughout the run, so I stopped after about 23 miles of the 50K, as it was only 3 weeks out from Bandera.  Then I took a full week completely off, and my foot was feeling good in daily activity.  I ran 4 miles easy and felt good.  Seven miles the next day felt good.  Ten or so on some trails, with a couple miles hard, the next day felt good.  The following day I went for a moderate 20 miler on hilly roads and felt great.  I was running again and feeling good and healed.  The only problem was it was already only like 9 days until Bandera.  The next day was about 17 miles with Jackie back on the JFK course - it was really nice to get back out there. 

Love the hilly roads in northern Harford County

Back on the App Trail w/ Jackie

Now that I was running again, I was excited and wanted to keep running, but I figured I had better cool it in the week leading up to Bandera.  Originally, I planned on training hard and racing hard at Bandera.  I hoped to get at least a couple 90-100 mile weeks in between JFK and January 7th.  Instead, that one week when I started running again was the only week over 30 miles in that span.  Although I felt good running once I got going again, I had to come to terms with the fact that I most likely lost some fitness in basically a month off from running.  But that was okay, because I was pretty sure, the way my foot was feeling, that I'd at least be able to finish Bandera.  The trip was more of a vacation in my mind anyway: it was the last weekend of Christmas break, and we had a really nice, big house rented for me, Jackie, Trent, Gorie, Matt, and Alex.  It was a ton of fun, an extraordinary event and location, and a nice challenge to start off the new year.

Trent and Gorie were running the 50K, and the rest of us the 100K.  Before the race, Gorie asked me how long I expected to take, and I told him anywhere between 10 and 15 hours.  I really had no idea.  "Around 10 hours" was going to be my goal if I was trained and healthy.  I figured I would act like I was "trained and healthy" when the race started, and just see what happened.

So the gun went off, and I settled in, seeing the Texas Hill Country trails for the first time.  I was immediately introduced to the rocks that everybody talks about.  I will now join the ranks of all those who say that the course is unimaginably rocky.  I've never seen or run on trails like that before.  It was pretty cool, and I was having a lot of fun dancing around on the rocks and bouncing down the hills.  On the way up toward the top of the first climb, the sun was rising over the Hill Country and the weather was perfect.  That was my favorite part of the race (which I guess speaks to how the rest of the day played out for me :D )  I felt good for the first 2 or 3 hours of the race, but that's about it.  I definitely started out to aggressively for the shape that I was in, and was forced to back off after 20 miles or so.  I was by myself for the entire first 50K loop.  I don't think I ever really exchanged a word with anyone, other than at aid stations.  It was fun, though.  I loved the change in scenery, the rocks, and the aid stations. 

I took my only fall of the day somewhere in the middle of the first loop.  A rock actually jumped out of the bushes and grabbed my foot, laying me down hard on his rock-friends.  I saved my face, got a couple of scrapes or small cuts, and hobbled it off pretty quickly without consequence. 

I noted that the course was actually not as hard as I was expecting.  The middle 15 miles or so of the loop were rolling hills at best, with several stretches or relatively rock-less trails.  Usually when there weren't rocks, the trail was hard, misshapen mud (like petrified horseshoe prints), but it was better than the rock beds of the other 15ish miles of the loop.  The hills on the course were unlike any hills I'd ever seen.  In a panorama view of the Hill Country, they are shaped like mini-mountains.  But the climbs were not very long, just technical because of the rocks.

Now, that said, I got my butt kicked.  My first 50K loop was completed in 4:59:something.  Granted, that would probably not be unreasonable if I were in good shape (though, honestly, I started out faster and slowed down in the later miles of the loop).  I went out on my second loop, and I don't really know what happened.  Something just shut down and I decided I would be walking a lot of the second loop.  My feet were killing me, my stomach was feeling kinda weird after every aid station no matter what I ate or drank (which is very unusual for me), and I started feeling my foot injury again.  The injury wasn't exactly bothering me, but I did realize that the more I pushed it today, the more recovery (i.e. completely off) time I would have to take after the race for it to heal up.  My legs weren't tired, but I felt drained, and I could barely run.  It's hard for me to describe, because I've never really experienced that before. 

I was also incredibly lonely.  I kept thinking about Matt, Alex, and Jackie and wondering how they were doing, knowing they were out there on the course somewhere.  And Trent and Gorie, wondering how their 50K went.  I was hoping to see them at some point, either on the course or at the finish line when I finished my first loop, but I never did.  After the first aid station on the second loop, a guy named Matt caught me.  I hadn't had any company in hours, so I forced myself to run with him.  We talked quite a bit on that segment between aid stations.  I was very thankful for the company.  I felt like I was riding him to the next aid station.  After 4 or 5 miles, though, I had to let him go a little bit.  I would see him a lot throughout the remainder of the race. 

The next highlight was at the third aid station of the second loop, a little over 9 hours into the race.  I was feeling terrible.  In the segment leading up to that, I kept looking back over my shoulder in the open stretches, hoping to see someone I knew.  I thought about just getting to the aid station and waiting because I really wanted to run with someone.  I spent probably 10 minutes at that aid station, and sat down for the first time.  When I got up and was about to leave, one of the vollies said another runner was coming.  I turned around and saw Jackie come storming in.  She was excited and surprised to see me; I was excited and not surprised to see her.  She did her thing at the aid station and I left with her, running again.  I wasn't exactly comfortable with the pace, but it was great to have her.  It was a bit of a flashback to Burning River.  She felt better than me, I felt terrible.  After about 3 miles, though, I had to let her go, too.  She actually had something to race for, and I wasn't comfortable keeping up.  By the time I got to the next aid station, she was already gone from it.  From there, it was less than 10 miles.  I knew it was going to be a very long 10 miles. 

The second-to-last section of the race was only about 4 miles.  Night fell during this section, and I heard some coyotes egging me on.  The moon was big and bright.  I ran for what I thought must have been about 2 miles at a slow but steady pace, then stopped to walk for a bit, thinking I must be within 2 miles of the last aid station, called Last Chance.  Shortly thereafter, I began hearing the cheers and voices of the vollies at Last Chance, and they sounded very close.  Then, about 30 minutes later, I finally made it to that aid station.  I guess the trail winded very near the aid station and then went off for another couple miles before actually getting there.  That was frustrating.

That aid station was great, definitely my favorite of the day.  The volunteers there were energetic, enthusiastic buttkickers who forced electrolyte pills into my hand both times and didn't let me stay too long.  Again, I wanted to wait for Matt and Alex to come rolling in, but I had no idea where they were.  So I chilled at Last Chance for probably 10 or 12 minutes and, 11 hours and 30 minutes in to the race, left it at a walk.  It was 5 miles to go, basically up hill the first part, and then down to the finish, with rocks galore.  Shortly into the climb, I was walking up when another guy came up behind me and joined me at a walk.  Greg from Boulder.  I told Greg from Boulder I'd probably be walking most of this last section, and that he should feel free to go ahead if he wanted.  He said that he did, and I let him pass.  About a minute later, I decided to get it over with, and started running.  I caught up with Greg from Boulder pretty quickly, and we ran the whole way to the finish together.  It was actually my best section by far on the second loop.  Greg and I talked the whole way, and caught up with another guy shortly before the finish.  The three of us ran it in and crossed the finish line together.  Twelve hours, 35 minutes, and 49 seconds later.

I still don't really know what to think about this race.  I can only attribute my blowing up for the second half to not running for a month plus.  But that was okay.  Despite all these 'negative' comments about how I felt, I enjoyed the experience a lot.  Since I got injured, I never actually looked at Bandera as a race, but as a vacation.  I didn't really think about the fact that I was running a 100K until a couple miles into the race.  I thought of it more like the Grand Canyon spring break trip last year.  It was an adventure in a new place with some great people.  And it was different, in a kind of nice way, not to be racing for anything and just taking in the trails.

At the same time, it's frustrating, though.  When I finished the race that night, sure my legs were stiff and cramping, but the only thing really bothering me was the cold.  After an hour or so, I was fine.  I've been a lot more sore after a lot of other runs, even a lot of marathons.  The next day, my foot was sore in the same place, but not as bad as it was after JFK.  Under normal circumstances based on the way my legs felt, if I hadn't been injured, I would have started running again the next day.  So fitness-wise, the race left me remarkably unsatisfied.  But the course, the experience, the location, the trip, the several days with friends in a sweet Hill Country house, and the shiny belt buckle made this vacation extremely rewarding and well worthwhile.

Now, a week after Bandera, I sit here with my foot on my desk under two bags of ice.  I'm thinking about giving running a shot again tomorrow for a few easy miles.  This is the first real injury I've ever had, and I'm not good at this.  I hate not running, and I'm dying to get going regularly again.  Once I can do that, I can start picking races for this year.

JFK 50 Mile - 11/19/2011

I had a lot going for me heading into this year's JFK50 as opposed to last year: significantly more experience and exposure to the world of ultras, a lot more high mileage and quality training, a (new) faster marathon PR, and much greater familiarity with the course.  I have Jackie to thank for that last one, especially!

I decided after Burning River to make JFK my focus race for the fall.  Priority would be taken away from marathon racing and given to consistent training for a couple of months.  I was never really sure what to set as a goal for JFK.  Back in the summer, when we formed our team from the Naval Academy for this year, I had thought about breaking the military team record, which I thought would take at least one sub-7 or a few sub-7:10 finishers.  At the time, I thought that with some pretty serious training, I should be able to go for sub-7 hours.

Early in September my recovery from Burning River seemed to be complete.  Training amped back up and plenty of quality races and training miles came in the next couple of months.  I didn't really realize it as it was happening, but it was pointed out to me that I'd been traveling a lot to races.  It turns out I had gone somewhere to a race of sorts for six of seven weekends starting with the UBER Rock 50K on September 24th.  Of those six races, one was an unexpected marathon PR at NYC, and the only one which was less than a marathon was a 10 mile PR.  In between all of these came a lot of really good training runs and high mileage weeks (for me).  After all this, I was feeling primed for JFK in the best shape I'd ever been in.  Under 7 hours now seemed almost like an expectation I had for myself.  I told myself that I really should be able to do it, but I still wasn't sure.  So much would come into play.

As I continued to try and convince myself that I should be able to break 7 in the days leading up to the race, I also started conjuring up splits and potential race strategies for a 6:45.  The night before the race, my parents asked me if I could estimate when I would be arriving at each checkpoint where they would be along the course: miles 15.5, 27, 38, and the finish.  I spent like 20 minutes doing mental calculations and thinking about the race, and ended up writing down 2:15, 3:45, 5:05, and 6:45 and telling them these could 15 minutes off or more.

Whatever the case, I showed up to the start with legs feeling fresher than I could remember feeling in months.  I assembled with the rest of the team in the gym and, just like last year, we got a late start jogging to the starting line, which they said is a little over a half mile from the gym.  We began jogging over, in good spirits, not feeling particularly rushed.  Turned out we were a little late, because we were still jogging down the street in Boonsboro when a gun went off.  "Wait, was that...I think that was the start?"  It was indeed!  We continued jogging right up past the starting line and began the race.  Although we'd lost almost a minute right there, I didn't let it bother me.

The best races I had in the previous couple months were the ones I approached as fun runs without sweating all the pacing and racing details.  So I wanted to do the same here.  I've really come to enjoy uphills and technical downhills and rocky trails.  So I knew the first 15-16 miles of JFK would be the most fun part of the race.  I stayed completely relaxed, ran with Ted, and just enjoyed myself UBER style.  I wanted to hit the towpath feeling as fresh as possible.

Ted and I gradually made up for the minute we had lost, passing lots of people in the initial couple of miles up to the South Mountain Inn, including a nice looking girl named Jackie who we would talk to more after the race :-D.  When we got on the trail, passing people became a little less frequent, but still gradual.  Last year we were a few places out of the top 50.  I definitely wanted to be top 50 this year, and thought top 30 (maybe top 25) would be possible.

At some point on the App Trail, probably around mile 12, I had a strong urge overcome my bowels.  Once it settled, I discussed with Ted the likelihood of having to make a pitstop at the next aid station.  He was feeling it too, apparently!

Grabbing gels from Dad!

sweet new Navy Ultra singlets!

We came down off the switchbacks together and saw my parents at about 2:12 I think...right on schedule!  Another half mile or so and we came to the big aid station before the towpath.  That urge I had felt previously had not returned, but Ted had to hit the toilet real quick.  I expected I'd have to be stopping later on and that I would see Ted again.  I told him I'd continue onto the towpath and start out at a conservative pace.

The first couple miles were relatively eventful as far as running on the C&O Canal Towpath goes.  I was passing lots of early starters, many of whom were in cheerful spirits.  Once in a while, I would catch up with another 7am starter, run with him a little bit, and then continue on.  After a few miles I caught up with a guy named Wes, who I soon learned won JFK in 1987 (I believe).  We talked a bit and ran together for a few miles.  He guessed that we were in the top 25 or 30 at this point.  That excited me a bit, but scared me more, I think.  I was feeling really good, but knew that it wouldn't last.  And then, I'd surely be seeing lots of these people again.  Wes told me something like, "You see that guy up there in the red? And then up ahead of him there's a guy in green.  You can pass them and if you do that, then you can pass maybe 10 more people."  Well I didn't know where he got his information, but part of me did trust his judgement.  He'd won this race before, and run it several times...I liked to think he knew what he was talking about, as far-fetched as it may have seemed to me.

Eventually, Wes dropped back and told me to go on.  I told him there was a good chance I'd be seeing him again later, but he didn't seem to believe me.  One of the next guys I caught up to was a guy named Jesse.  I ran with him or near him for a bit.  I didn't wear a GPS watch, and I never even took any splits on my Timex, but I remember a few key points along the route.  One of them was the halfway-ish point...and aid station at mile 24.8 (I think).  I hit that with Jesse at 3:25 or 3:26 on my watch.  I thought about last year's JFK when I hit the halfway in 3:45, and came back with another 3:45 for a 7:30 finish time.  I knew that there was no reason the second half should be slower than (or the same as) the first half on the JFK course if I ran a smart race.  I hoped that would be the case today.

The towpath was as long and monotonous as ever, and I had multiple highs and lows along the way.  Sometimes, my legs, especially my quads, would cramp up for a mile or two at a time.  For nutrition, I was taking a gel basically every hour starting at about 1:15 into the race, carrying Gatorade in my handheld which I would refill every 10 miles or so, and usually grabbing an orange slice or two and sometimes a couple pretzel sticks at each aid station.  The gels became a little more frequent later in the race.

Sometime shortly after seeing my parents at mile 27, I definitely started feeling the pace.  I was getting tired, and the miles of the towpath were taunting my mental state.  It would be 11 miles before I saw my parents again, and I was really hoping to be looking good each time they saw me.  There was a guy up ahead of me who I'd been able to see for a while, but he appeared to be running stronger than I was.  I kept my eye on him up in the distance for the next few miles.  At one point, he stopped to pee, and I got a little closer to him before he finished and got back to running.  Then, a little later, he stopped to tie his shoes and I caught up and ran by him.  He finished soon after I passed and quickly caught back up with me.  He was definitely feeling better than I was, so I decided to let him go.  I started trailing behind him again, but not far back.  Soon enough, I came out of the semi-low point I was having.  Maybe it was the motivation of having someone to run with.  I caught back up with him and ran stride for stride with him for a few miles leading into the mile 34 aid station.  He was pushing the pace a bit for me, but I figured it was worth it to stay with him.  At one point, he looked down at his Garmin and appeared to be doing some mental math.  After a minute, he said that if we continued our current pace, we'd run a 6:25 or 6:30.

Hold up.  That's not me, I thought.  As motivating as that thought was, I dropped off a little and never saw him again after the mile 34 aid station.

Mile 34 to 38 was tough.  This marathon (26.3 miles) of towpath was painful both physically and mentally.  But after 34 miles, I knew I'd be seeing my parents again at the next aid station.  I probably slowed down a bit in this section to preserve myself for when they saw me. That was a long 4 miles, and I was definitely hurting when I rolled into that aid station.  But my dad greeted me telling me I was 16th  (later learned that it must have been 17th).

Coming into mile 38 (I think)

Sixteenth?  At JFK?  I believed it, but I think it was a little better than I was expecting.  Although I wanted to dilly-dally at the aid station, I couldn't let myself, especially after that bit of news.  I let the volunteers fill up my bottle, grabbed a couple things for myself, and got going again in short time.

I look tired...

Sometime back around mile 30ish, I had an interesting encounter on the towpath.  I passed a woman who I was pretty sure was Meghan Arboghast and thought, "Oh, God, what am I doing??"  I also noted that there was no lead bike with her, meaning that someone in the field was beating her.  I wondered who it might be.

Well, shortly after leaving mile 38, Meghan Arboghast caught up with and passed me back.  I was almost positive it was her, so I greeted her and found out I was correct.  She seemed like she was in a good rhythm, and kept on going to finish second for the women. 

I had to pee.  I looked at my watch and it said 5:21 or so, and decided I'd keep moving until my watch said 5:30.  Then I'd break up this last little section of towpath and reward myself with a little pee break.  I really wanted to...I was struggling.

So I did that, and then the end of the towpath aid station came sooner than expected!  This was my longest aid station stop (still probably only a minute or so).  I think I took a couple bites and sips of some random different things, then headed onto the road.  One guy who I had passed earlier in the race (I think at the very beginning of the towpath) passed me at that aid station.

I thought about keeping up a jog up that "hill" at the beginning of the road.  But then I got to it.  I welcomed a quick walk break up it.  I knew there were aid stations every 2 miles or so from here on out, and that was very uplifting.  Even more uplifting was how I began to feel once I started running again after that hill.  Then I looked at my watch when I passed the 8-miles-to-go marker.  5:40.  My watch was at 5:40.  I could run the last eight miles in 10 minute pace and still break 7.  That sounded perfectly doable.

The mile markers (now every mile) came and went quickly.  And with each one, my mental math comforted me more and more.  I felt "great" ...as much as I can feel "great" after 45 miles of hard running.  I recognized the spot right around mile 47 where Jackie came blowing by me a year earlier.  Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I actually turned to look behind me real quick at that point.  But there was nobody to be seen, and that last guy to pass me was still visible a half mile or so up in the distance.  I had slowly been closing on him, but he seemed to be finishing strong too and was out of my reach.

The only split I took on my watch the entire race was the last mile, just because I was curious what it would end up being.  It was a 7:04, which I considered a good strong finish.  The last eight miles was about 61 or 62 minutes, so under 7:45 pace.  Looking at the chip time splits on the results, it appears my 26.3 miles of towpath was covered in 3:18:29, or just over 7:30 pace.  I must have been moving when I was feeling good, then.

The clock read 6:42:36 when I crossed the line in 19th place.  I was glad that the minute or so we had lost before the start didn't come back to bite me in any way.  I was almost 2 minutes behind the guy in front of me, and not within a minute of any significant time landmarks (that is, I was a little worried in the beginning that I might end up running a 7:01 or something..).  The announcer had some nice things to say over the loudspeaker as I approached, introducing me as the first military finisher and the youngest finisher so far, or something along those lines.

It was a perfect race.  Everything went better than I could have asked for...I couldn't believe I was in the top 20.  Then, to top it all off, we clinched the military team trophy in what was apparently a close race with the National Guard team!  And Jackie came through with another top 10 finish, second year in a row! It was one year ago at this race that I met her - first when I passed her at mile 4, and again when she passed me at mile 47.  I have to say it must have been the Halloweeny 50k in the snow that was our most valuable training run on the JFK trails this year.  But seriously, Jackie and the Navy guys were such an important part of JFK training...lots of fun miles with them!

8 straight years!

 That Jackie girl I saw in the beginning of the race!

 Of course, my parents were there to support me the whole way.  Although I didn't have the huge numbers represented by Team Jackie, it was so good to see my parents at those three aid stations during the race.  My mom was taking some of the pictures seen here, and my dad would hand me a baggy with a couple gels to last me a another hour or two.  Seeing Team Jackie at those aid stations was an added bonus - the more familiar faces the better!

Chicago, Baltimore, Waffle Cone, Halloweeny, and NYC

Chicago

Basically since I recovered from Burning River, the race I've been focusing all of my training toward has been JFK50 on November 19th.  The focus race of the fall for my team was the Chicago Marathon on October 9th.  I was debating training completely through Chicago or doing a short taper for it.  A couple days after that Uber Rock 50K, I decided it'd be fun to give sub-2:50 a try at Chicago.  So I tapered and took it easy for about 2 weeks, feeling confident that I could PR in a marathon and get under 2:50. 

The goals I wrote down for Chicago before the race included hitting the half at 1:24-1:25, running 20-minute 5Ks, and "confident about PR, should go sub-2:50, perfect day=2:47/8".  Here is a basic rundown of the race:

• 6:32/mile average for first 5K
• Low 6:20s/mile average for next 20K
• 10 Mile split in 1:04:07
• 13.1 Mile split in 1:23:55

I was feeling great up to this point and thinking about 2:48.  The last time I was in Chicago, I ran very even splits, and wondered at the halfway point this year if I might be able to do something like that again.

• Mile 17-20 average 6:39/mile (beginning to fade)
• 20 Mile split in 2:09:09 (a PR for 20 miles...I struggled to a 2:14 a month earlier)
• Mile 20-26.2 average ~7:00/mile (crash)

The last 10K was tough and I ended up with a 2:52:28.  It was slower than I thought I would be able to run, but I couldn't complain - it was still my second fastest marathon and I didn't see myself as in peak marathon shape.

Baltimore


So after Chicago, I got back to training.  In building up to JFK last year, I raced Steamtown, then ran Baltimore the following weekend, then Marine Corps on Halloween.  But I did little to no training in between those 'long runs'.  I had the same kind of schedule this year, but wanted to keep up my running in between long runs/races.  The few days after Chicago, I basically just did shorter, easy runs; but I was running at least.  Then on Saturday I headed to the Baltimore Marathon with Jackie, another long run/race in her heavy racing and training schedule.  She ran very well with a 3:15 clocking on a tough course on a brutally windy day.  This was my second time running Baltimore, and it is definitely the most difficult road marathon course I have run.  On top of that, there was a serious headwind for much of the race, most notably mile 20 to 23 or so.  I ran with Jackie and had a lot of fun, and got a great training run out of it.  A couple hours on the White Clay trails with Jackie in Delaware the following day felt pretty good, too.

Waffle Cone

I continued to increase mileage after Baltimore, and continued to feel really good.  I began falling into this trend I've observed over the last several weeks with a lot of miles at a faster pace than usual.  A lot of my runs have been ending up under 7:30 pace.  This summer, when I was doing a lot of 80 or 90 mile weeks, my pace was usually around 8 minutes or slower.  Since taking a day off before Baltimore, I had done about 110 miles in 8 days, much of them at a decent pace.  I was in Delaware again on Saturday, and the following morning was the Caffe Gelato Waffle Cone 10 Miler (or something to that effect).  Although Jackie had just done some 35 miles or something that day, we both seemed to think it would be fun - just a small, local race on a very nice weekend weather-wise.  It turned out to be a trail race, which made it interesting.  A few miles of it were singletrack and as I was racing through those miles, I realized that I had never really run all-out on singletrack trails before.  I ended up running 1:02:02, an unexpected 10-mile PR.  I've been wanting for a while to try to run under an hour for 10 miles.  This impromptu race gave me confidence that I'd be able to do that.  Give me a road course that's not too hilly, and I think I could do it.  It was a fun race, and Jackie and I added a few miles afterward before cashing in our free waffle cone coupons.

Halloweeny Fat Ass 50K

This "race" was ridiculous.  I put race in quotes because it was really just an organized fun run, fat ass event.  Jackie and I saw it as a good training run for JFK and a fun way to spend Halloween weekend, running in costumes bought at Goodwill.  Much of the course was part of the JFK course, plus a loop up the Maryland Heights trail (which was awesome) and a loop through Harper's Ferry.

The race was schedule to begin around 8:00am.  Here was a look out the back window at about 7:00 am:

It was Halloween weekend and snow was falling and sticking to the ground.  Surely once the sun came up it would stop coming down and melt away.

After a meeting with all the runners and the race organizers in a pavilion at the start, the RD said something like, "Okay well I think that's everything, so umm...Go, I guess!"  Of the 100+ people who signed up for this freebie event, apparently only about 40 showed up.  Many of those no-shows were probably deterred by the weather.  It was still snowing at the start, and we jumped onto the Appalachian Trail from Gapland to Weverton Cliffs:

My 'Candace Corn' outfit from Goodwill was certainly not made for this kind of weather, nor was Jackie's pom-pom tutu.  Once we got moving, I warmed up enough, but the worst part definitely came when we got down onto the C&O Towpath.  Down there, the snow was more like sleet or cold rain blowing into us with a persistent headwind.  After the second aid station, we started climbing the Maryland Heights trail, for which I was very thankful because I knew the long steady ascent would keep me warmer.  We went up for a couple miles, keeping a watchful eye on the trees far above us.  It sounded like a gun range at times with high branches cracking and falling to the ground all around us.  Luckily, all the runners made it through unscathed.  It was seriously pretty dangerous; if it weren't for the loud, gunfire-like cracking noises which provided a few seconds of warning, at least a couple people would quite likely have fallen victim to these so-called "widow makers". 

On the MD Heights loop, the snow was several inches deep and still falling.  It was beautiful, and I couldn't believe it was October in Maryland.  The only thing that could have made it better would have been the added comfort I would have had from wearing actual clothes.  But the trails were awesome and peaceful, and I was reminded how much I love running in the snow, especially after a long hot summer.  After an overlook over Harper's Ferry, I was a little disappointed to descend back down the to Towpath where the weather wasn't so pleasant.

There were four aid stations on the route.  We stopped at them each for at least a few minutes, and I mostly ate cookies because I was hungry and they were delicious.  For the Harper's Ferry loop, I really needed to rely on the turn sheet that was provided at the beginning of the run.  It was kind of cool running on this unmarked route, though.  Once in a while we would come upon an arrow drawn in the snow on the ground by somebody's feet who was ahead of us, indicating the right direction.

Eventually, we were back on the Towpath and then heading up the switchbacks at Weverton Cliffs, back on the AT toward the start/finish at Gapland.  The AT was much more snow-covered at this point than it had been in the morning.  The running was slow and meticulous, but really peaceful and fun. 

Before we rushed into the bathrooms to change into dry/warm clothes, this is what we looked like after finishing:

And I don't think I'd ever seen snow on a pumpkin before:

New York City

If you ever get the chance to run the New York City Marathon with the NYPD Running Club, I highly recommend it.  Running through the five boroughs past hundreds of thousands of spectators with NYPD across the front of my singlet was a remarkable experience.  The NYPD is clearly appreciated and loved by the people of the city.

After Halloweeny, I continued my heavy training which was still going really well.  I had a better than expected, relatively hard 20 mile run on Tuesday, and felt good throughout the week.  NYC was to be my last hard training run before JFK.  As such, the time I ran was not really a concern to me.  I thought it would be cool to get another sub-3 under my belt, but really wasn't sure how my legs would feel.  I had a feeling even a 3-hour marathon would be a pretty difficult effort, and was realistically expecting something in the low 3 to 3:05 range.

I went up to NYC with Ted, Charlie, and LT.  Ted and Charlie were shooting for something fast, and LT was kind of undecided.  He seemed to be planning on going out at 2:55 pace or so (maybe a little faster), so on the starting line I decided I would just run with him until I dropped off pace.  When the gun went off, we began running up the Verrazano Bridge and my legs felt completely dead.  I was kind of confused because they had felt fine on our short shake-out run the day before, which granted was short and easy.  But I assumed it was just from sitting on the long bus ride to the start and then standing around for a while at the starting line, and hoped it would go away soon.  Or if it didn't, then I'd end up with a relatively slower time, but still get a good training run.  Either way, I'd have fun.

After a 6:58 first mile up the Verrazano Bridge and a 6:09 down the other side, LT and I settled in to about a 6:30 pace and enjoyed the massive crowds and beautiful day.  Before I knew it, we were at mile 9.  Those first 9 miles flew by.  I was genuinely surprised when I saw the 9 mile mark, expecting something more like 5 or 6 I think.  When I hit the 10 mile mark in 1:05:22, I think I started to think about how I was feeling.  Excellent.  I was feeling excellent.  I was going way faster than planned, though, and knew I would be feeling the pace sooner rather than later.  Somewhere around mile 10 or 12, I started pulling away from LT a bit.  Admittedly, I was pushing a little bit at this point...but it was comfortable and I didn't feel like I was setting myself up for any kind of huge crash later on.  So I kept going and went through the half at 1:26:01.  Around mile 14, I started to think about that, and realized that I only had to run a 1:29 second half to come in at 2:55.  That would be way more than I was asking for out of this race.  But I felt good enough and told myself there was no reason I couldn't run a 1:29; it might mean getting out of my comfort zone a little bit later, but I knew I would be able to if I wanted.

As I ascended the Queensboro Bridge at mile 15, I noticed that I was passing a lot of people and that I thought I had been doing so for several miles.  I would see a pack up ahead of me and think, "Oh, I can catch up to them and just hang on to their group for a while."  But then I would catch up to them and go right by them.  And that kept happening.

After that bridge, there was a sweet 3 or 4 mile stretch down First Avenue.  It felt like Boylston Street in Boston, but 3+ miles long.  Just a long straight stretch with several rows of spectators cheering alongside.  My pace dropped into the 6:20s for this stretch, and I was still feeling really good.  At this point, I started telling myself that if I hit the 20 mile mark within 2-3 minutes of my 20 mile split at Chicago, then there would be no reason why I couldn't beat my Chicago time.  I hit 20 miles in 2:10:59, less than 2 minutes slower than my Chicago 20 mile split.  I knew what this meant: I was going to run under 2:52 at least.  But if I was going to do that, then why not PR and get under 2:51:02.  I felt great, so I started realizing this would be a real possibility.  Forget that, I felt so good, I could go under 2:50.  So that's what I decided.  I felt almost fresh still going into the last 10K, so I felt like I could really start pushing and still sustain it for a few more miles.

Mile 21...6:17
Mile 22...6:19
Mile 23...6:06

I was at 2:29:43 at mile 23.  I told myself before then that if I hit 23 in 2:30 or better, I could definitely PR and probably go under 2:50.

Mile 24...6:31
Mile 25...6:10
Mile 26...5:52

I was having tons of fun running fast for that last 10K.  I've never finished a marathon feeling so good.  I was pushing myself hard, but comfortably.  I crossed in 2:49:31 with the most unexpected PR I've ever had.  Looking at my running log, I had run 164 miles in the 12 days before this race.  Ironically, this turned out to be the best race I've ever had in a marathon.

Previously, I viewed Chicago '09 as my best marathon race.  It is still the most evenly paced marathon I've ever raced, with half splits of 1:27:36 and 1:27:38, and only a 22-second spread among my 5K splits.  In New York City, though, I opened with a 1:26:01 and continued to speed up for a 1:23:30 second half.  I don't know the 5K splits exactly, but I closed with a 38:32 10K compared to 40:40 for the opening 10K.

Since my mindset for this race was entirely in training run/fun run mode, the fact that I ran a PR didn't, and still hasn't, really hit me I don't think.  I crossed the finish line feeling like I just had a really good training run.  It did much for my confidence leading up to JFK, which was already high.  And it makes me wonder what I could run for a marathon under normal racing and training circumstances (also, I was hungry and had to pee starting at about mile 5 in NYC and consumed nothing but one gel at mile 16 and a little Gatorade or water every couple miles).  Not sure when that will happen again, but I look forward to it.

Now it's two weeks of taper while I chomp at the bit to toe the line at JFK50...