San Antonio Marathon Race Report - November 15, 2009
“The marathon can humble you.”- Bill Rodgers, winner of four Boston and four NYC marathons
Thanks Bill, now I understand!
OK. There are those of you out there that look at the races I’ve run and said, sure the times are OK (for a beginner), but the conditions had been ideal at each of the races. You know what, you were right!Call me naïve, or stupid, but I really didn’t think the weather would affect me. Sure, I was watching the weather websites just like everybody else for weeks before the race, but the numbers didn’t mean anything to me. Mid-60s? So what, I trained all summer for a marathon in the record Texas heat. 97% humidity? No big deal. If it isn’t 80 degrees, the humidity really doesn’t mean much, right? This was my mindset at the start line of the 2009 San Antonio Rock and Roll Marathon.
I had been targeting this race for many months as the race I would make my first, and hopefully only, attempt at qualifying for Boston. In the weeks leading up to it, I began to develop more and more confidence. My times were coming down ever since the summer heat broke and temperatures became more runner-friendly. I even ran a marathon as a training run (not all out effort) three weeks prior. No, a BQ wasn’t guaranteed, but I would certainly be able to give it a shot.So there I was at the start. Temperature at the start was 65 degrees with 97% humidity. My strategy was to go out for the first half running my BQ pace, if all felt OK, I would press on to mile 18. From there, I would push it to the finish. I was set up to start in corral 2 (out of 30+), so I had no issues with crowds. The first several miles went by very easily, and the crowds were plentiful, especially downtown. I even managed to zip past the Alamo without even noticing. I was in the zone!
Mile 1 7:50
Mile 2 7:39
Mile 3 7:27
Mile 4 7:47
For next next 2 miles or so, I ran with David, a guy I had met through my running group, the infamous “Ship of Fools.” I hadn’t seen him in a while, and when I asked where he had been, he said he was recovering from a stress fracture in his hip, and this was his first run since the injury. This made me a little upset (he was running the same pace as me after all!), so at mile 6 I increased my tempo a little bit. Other than a little added sweat, which at this time was a minor inconvenience because my Ipod ear-buds were falling out, everything was still going great. Again, the crowds in downtown SA were awesome, and the run through the King William district was beautiful. What a great day this was!
Mile 5 8:03
Mile 6 7:32
Mile 7 7:41
Mile 8 7:28
Mile 9 7:41
Mile 10 7:40
“Marathoning is just another form of insanity.”- John J. Kelly, winner of the 1952 Boston Marathon
Still cruising along, we pass the half marathon turnoff. I’m guessing 70% of the runners were half marathoners, so the course opened up a lot after that. I saw the awesome Ship of Fools cheering section, who even made a special sign just for me! That hasn’t happened since the spirit squad did that in high school. How sweet! Although I had my music going pretty loud, I did hear Jack say, “Great pace Joe!” Darn right Jack! I was just cruising through the miles and no more worse the wear for it. I mile or two later, I saw my kiddos there cheering me on. I was feeling so good, I spent precious energy zipping across to the other side of the street to give them high-5s. No big deal, I’m Superrunner!
Mile 11 7:47
Mile 12 7:40
Mile 13 7:43
Mile 14 7:52
Mile 15 7:41
“Marathoning is like cutting yourself unexpectedly. You dip into the pain so gradually that the damage is done before you are aware of it. Unfortunately, when awareness comes, it is excruciating.”- John Farrington, Australian marathoner
My first sense that things were about to change was somewhere near mile 16. I could definitely tell I was working harder. My legs had been tiring for a few miles, but now the pain was much more significant. I also looked around and saw people walking. Walking? At mile 16? What is going on? I’m no marathon veteran, but I have run 4 marathons, and rarely have I seen this many people walking this early in the race. I couldn’t tell if it was getting warmer or not (it was), but the sun was beginning to peek out here and there. When it was out, it was shining right in our faces, and it was uncomfortable to squint – little did I know this was the least of my worries! My splits were increasing, a phenomenon I could not explain, since in every other marathon, I have run even or negative splits. By mile 18, I had lost it. My strides were turning into a shuffle, and I was having trouble breathing, due to both the physical effort and the holding back of the emotional tears. I heard myself wheezing through my constricted windpipe, and even considered just collapsing right there to spare myself the embarrassment of the ugly finish that was certain to lie ahead. But yet, I trudged on.
Mile 16 7:56
Mile 17 8:12
Mile 18 8:23
Mile 19 8:23
Mile 20 8:45
“It hurts up to a point and then it doesn’t get any worse.”- Ann Trason
As I wrapped up a terribly inefficient mile 20, my next concern was where my kids were going to be cheering from on my way back to the finish. I certainly didn’t want them to see me struggling like this! I tried to look ahead through sweat-burning eyes to make sure I would look like “Superdad” for a few strides as I ran past them. Fortunately, our friend who brought them out to the course either couldn’t wait any longer or saw what the runners were looking like and thought, This is no sight for a child!” At this time, I also began taking walk breaks in between the water stops. It seemed like the most I could run at one time was about ¾ mile, although given my mental state at this time, my sense of distance perception could have been way off. My splits were slowing, and for the first time EVER I seriously considered pulling off the course and hitching a ride. However, I was not injured or hallucinating, so I decided to plug on.I knew I was coming up to the point where the Ship of Fools cheering section would be, so I decided to “fool” them. I took a walk break and began running/shuffling/hobbling again just before the point at which they would see me. I jogged by, and even managed some sort of smile as I trudged by. Once I was out of sight (hopefully) I took another walk break. (As an aside, I thought I was being real original with this technique. However, after hearing from a few other shipmates, this seems to be a common and acceptable practice.).
Mile 21 9:03
Mile 22 10:11
Mile 23 9:58
Mile 24 9:24
“To describe the agony of a marathon to someone who’s never run it is like trying to explain color to someone who was born blind.”- Jerome Drayton
The last two miles were a blur. The course took us back into downtown, and there were plenty of people along the course. I’m guessing my walk breaks were about every ½ mile, and I remember feeling bad for the people watching the runners. To the uninitiated, we must have looked like the walking/staggering/shuffling dead. I just kept thanking (with a grunt) the well wishers along the way who told me that I was almost there (they were wrong!). I thought as the number of spectators increased, my ego would take over I and would be able to make it the rest of the way without stopping. I’m not certain (and I’m probably wrong), but I think my last walk break took place at the last water stop around mile 25. I managed to shuffle without stopping the last mile or so, at which my legs seemed to loosen up a little (or was it all in my mind?). I made it up the infamous hill I had heard about at mile 25.75. Once I turned the corner, some woman had the nerve to pass me. I said out loud, “Oh, no you don’t” and ended up finishing about 5 feet in front of her. We shook hands at the end, and she told me she I had been pulling her during that last stretch! Was she kidding?
Mile 25 11:06
Mile 26 10:29
Mile .2 + Garmin Bonus 4:25
Final Time: 3:41:40
“You have to forget your last marathon before you try another. Your mind can’t know what’s coming.” - Frank Shorter
I believe I said this after the San Francisco Marathon, but this time I mean it. This was clearly the toughest physical, mental and emotional thing I have ever done. I am not at all upset about not qualifying for Boston. I am not upset with my time. I learned a lot about marathoning that day. I learned things that I can use for my next race, and the one after that, and the one after that. Houston in January is the next biggie on the schedule for me. Perhaps Mother Nature will allow me a legitimate attempt at a BQ then.
