The Race

The national anthem was sung, the crowd was cheering and the gun went off. I was moving forward in the culmination of twenty one weeks of training and preparation. In fact, the mental buildup for this moment has been going on for years. I was not as nervous as I thought I might be and was glad to be underway.

The Ocean Drive Marathon also has a 10 mile event that ends on the Wildwood boardwalk. The runners for both races start and run the first 10 miles together. The first mile or so is on Beach Avenue in Cape May and was just a little crowded on the street. But it was not hard to settle into any pace you wanted. I finished the first mile in 9:05, then we took a turn to the west to head out of Cape May. Mile two was slightly faster at 8:56. Soon after mile two, we were running on the west end of Cape May Harbor making our way across the back bays and the first of the bridges. At this point I felt Ok with the pace. As we took a turn to the north, the fun started.

***

On Friday night, we went to see Maddie in her school play. She was wonderful to watch and the school’s production of My Fair Lady was a good show and welcome distraction from the upcoming race on Sunday. I got home from the show at about midnight, 33 hours before the race. I decided to check the weather one last time. The forecast for the winds was solidly coming from the North East and the wind speed forecast was now up to 15 MPH with gusts to 25 MPH. Whatever worries I had about the wind, were worsened.

Saturday morning came and went and I was off to take Danny to Millersville University to take a math placement test. Danny came through the school’s music audition process well and he (and us) had recently informed the school that he would attend in the fall. Millersville is a ninety minute drive and Danny and I were home in time to go to 5:00 Mass. After a pasta dinner at a local restaurant, Patti and Maddie were off for the second night of the show and Danny, Peter and I loaded up the car and headed to the shore for the race.

The three of us were staying at a friend’s house in Ocean City. The plan was for me to get on the bus in Sea Isle at 7:15 Sunday morning, while Danny and Peter waited for my brother John and my dad to come down and pick them up. The three generations of men from the family would then meet me along the course at the 10 mile, 18 mile and finish. At least that part of the plan went as expected.

***

Miles three, four and five were out along the bay heading out of Cape May and into Wildwood Crest. Out on the open road along the bay, I really felt the wind for the first time. My pace slowed to about 9:30 for these miles.

I was generally familiar with the entire course, but only specifically knowledgeable about the final 10 miles. I underestimated the amount of mileage that it would take to get from Cape May onto the Wildwood island. We were heading north east and the wind was strong in our faces. I kept looking for some relief in the form of a bridge to enter Wildwood. I did come to a bridge, but that was just followed by another long stretch of road around the bay and harbor only to be followed by another bridge, then more road and another bridge. The elevation of the bridges was not slowing me down, but the wind was.

I got to mile six at 55:30. I was already behind schedule by a minute and a half. My average pace was just below 9:15. At the time I was feeling good and had a positive outlook for a good race. I realized that 9:15 would not get me to the finish in under 4:00, but my mile six split was 9:07 and I had come through a tough part still feeling fresh and strong.

I had four miles to go until I would be greeted by my support team at mile ten. The sun was bright and the temperature was perfect in the 38 to 40 range. During this part of the race, I looked around and could see the drive on the faces of those running the 10 miler. They were in the homestretch.

We were running on a bike path that ran right along the beach in Wildwood in front of several large hotels and condos. It struck me as a great place to run in the summer. As we got on the boardwalk in Wildwood, I struck up a conversation with a woman who had the yellow bib number that identified her as a 10 miler. She caught me checking out the color of her bib, and she commented that I had a lot more ahead of me than she did. We talked a little about the wind. We wished each other luck and I went a head.

My splits for miles 6 through 10 were consistent in the 9:25 range. Overall I was approximately 4 minutes off my pace. The plan of running 9:00 miles, provided me with a 4 minute cushion to still break 4:00. I realized that I had completely exhausted that cushion. I also knew that my mile times were now slower than 9:00. But I was invigorated by the running and still fresh enough to stay positive and accepting of what was going on. I expected to reach a point in the race, where I would pick up the pace. I might not pick it up enough to break 4:00, but I was being patient for the right moment.

As the 10 miler participants went into their finishing chute on the boardwalk, I caught sight of Dad, John and the boys. They were cheering me on as I came up to them. I don’t know if they expected me to stop, but I did. I was wearing an old pair of sweats on top of my running shorts that I decided to get rid of. We talked briefly as I pealed off the sweats. I’m not sure of what we said but it was probably something about the weather. They gave me some encouragement as I took off again and they said they would see me at mile eighteen.

It was great to see them for obvious reasons, but also because it meant a large chunk of the race that was behind me. I was enjoying myself. Leading up to the race, I thought of the phases of the race and viewed the miles between 10 and 17 to be the hardest. I figured that it was too late in the race to feel really fresh but too early to think about finishing. I left my support team and headed off into North Wildwood trying to prepare for the lonely miles across the bay before I would hit the familiar streets and beaches of Stone Harbor and Avalon.

***

It was 7:00 AM on the morning of the race when I left Danny and Peter with the car and walked to catch the bus that would take me to the starting point. I gave them money for a WaWa breakfast and instructions to buy some hoagies for Dad and John. One of the buses pulled away just as I arrived at the designated place, but we were assured another would be around soon.

While we waited for another bus, I looked up and saw flags flying. All along I hoped the forecast would be wrong, but there was no mistaking the direction and strength of the wind. It was cold and they told a bunch of us to wait in the heated tent. I made a few friends to pass the time. We didn’t exchange names, just hometowns. They were both from New Jersey, both younger than me and both also running their first marathon.

One of the guys asked me if I was following a plan. I of course said Yes without hesitation. He then asked me which one. This was my moment of truth. I should have said:

“ I am glad you asked. I am running the BEST training plan. I am sure you have read all about it on the Internet. It starts with a Base building phase, then Endurance, followed by a Speed phase and a Taper. Would you like me to tell you more?”

But instead, I just said “My own” I blew it! It is my only true regret of the day!

They soon loaded us on the bus which was nice and warm and equipped with a bathroom. I had a cup of coffee for the ride and thought of the girls back home and wondered if it was too early to give them a call. The bus ride probably took about 30 minutes and was a relaxing way to collect my thoughts before the race.

We unloaded at the starting line at about 8:30 with a half an hour to kill before the start. The timing was perfect. The night before, I cut off a pair of sweats just below the knee. I had them to keep warm at the start and planned on trashing them at some point during the race. As the start grew near, I made a quick call to Patti and described how silly I probably looked in my capri’s. I wanted to be laughed at one last time so I wouldn’t take this too seriously; I knew I could count on my wife. I was getting ready as the guy on the loud speaker kept telling us that they would start promptly. And they did.

***

The next 6 miles took me from the boardwalk in Wildwood, through North Wildwood, across the bay and eventually to the southern tip of the seven-mile island that is home to Stone Harbor and Avalon. John and the gang drove by me on one of the bridges between Wildwood and Stone Harbor and I could see Danny trying to get a picture of me from the moving car. .My pace was very erratic during this portion of the race. Miles eleven and twelve were real slow (9:57 and 9:43). But I caught a break and the course turned away from the wind for a large portion of mile thirteen, which was my fastest mile of the day (8:55). I was feeling pretty good about the 8:55 when I dropped a bomb with a 10:15 in mile fourteen. I now fully knew that any cushion was long gone and it would take a solid second half effort to break 4:10.

The run was now starting to takes it toll on me. I was beyond the halfway mark, but was again running along the bay in between islands: this time going from Wildwood into Stone Harbor. The long stretches heading right into the wind were hard to take with no end in sight. The reality of my prospects for the day had settled in, but there was still plenty of positive vibes. I passed someone around mile fourteen and noticed that I had not been passed by anyone in a long time. I put off trying to re-predict my finish time until I hit the mile sixteen. I thought that with 10 miles to go, the math would be easier.

I got into Stone Harbor and arrived at the mile sixteen at 2:32:30. My average pace for the day was 9:35, but miles fourteen through sixteen averaged 10:00. I figured that if I could stick to 10:00 I would finish at 4:14. The next three miles were 9:56, 10:00 and 10:01.

While running up through Stone Harbor, I had the feeling that the end, while not near, was at least imaginable. I knew the streets that I had to run to get to the finish. There was only one bay crossing remaining, and I have run over that bridge and causeway several times in previous summers. I also knew that I would be seeing my crew at somewhere near mile eighteen.

I was running north on First Avenue in the area where Stone Harbor becomes Avalon. I was searching for mile marker eighteen when I saw the guys up ahead of me. By this time, I had become somewhat familiar with the runners around me. There was this tall guy with a Cleveland Browns hat who looked like he was walking, but his long legs were really eating up lots of ground with each awkward stride. There was also a woman who must have been ten years older than me. She was holding a bag of food while she ran with her windbreaker flapping in the wind. I exaggerated my form to a sprint past these dubious runners and ran up to my dad and asked if the I looked as slow as the people around me. I knew that my brother would be well aware of my pace and projected finish time. I told him that my best possible chance was 4:10. He generously told me that I was in good shape. I felt the need to explain that 4:10 was probably also not going to happen. While he was still talking, I said “4:15”. I don’t think he heard me. They offered me something to drink, but I refused. I was hitting every aid station and didn’t feel like carrying anything with me.

After the brief respite, I was on my way knowing that they would be at the finish line waiting for me again. I hoped it wouldn’t be too long of a wait.

***

Going into this race, I thought about the obstacles to reaching my goal. I am aware of the advice that you really should just experience the first marathon and learn from it. Then, armed with knowledge about the distance and your ability, you can set time goals for future races. But as I have said in previous entries in this journal, I accept that point of view as being valid, but boring. So I came up with three things that might cause me pain in the final miles and an unsatisfactory finish time.

Weather: This is something that is out of your control completely. It can be a factor in every race and this race is notorious. I took interest in watching this unfold.

Pacing: Go out to fast and you bonk at the end. Go out too slow and you will never make up the time. In order to do a good job of pacing, you need to know your ability. So this is partially out of your control. For a first timer, it is even more out of your control. Pacing is something that you must do for every race from 5K on up. I tend to think a lot about this.

Hydration: If you google “Marathon Hitting the Wall”, you will surely come to many articles about hydration. You need to drink enough fluids and take in enough useable carbohydrate fuel to last the distance. This is something that is in your control. If you practice this in training, it should not be an issue. I thought I learned my lesson during my 17 miler many weeks ago.

As I was pulling together my final race plans, I was hoping for favorable weather, trusting my body to properly pace and was confident that my hydration plan was adequate. I never gave much thought to how I was prioritizing these factors in my preparation.

***

I never saw mile marker eighteen. Some time after I left the guys, I looked at my watch and could see that my split time was over 12:00. I knew that I must have missed it and continued my trek toward nineteen. When I arrive at nineteen, my spilt was 20:01. I realized that I had continued to run consistently at 10:00 for the past several miles. At this point the pace was acceptable. My overall time was 3:02. I had hoped to be at mile twenty at 3:00. So now I found a new way to measure my deficit. Instead of minutes behind schedule, I now figured that I was a full mile behind schedule. Nevertheless, I thought the pace acceptable. I had been through a lot and if I was still doing 10:00 minute miles, I was Ok with that. I had over 7 miles left to run and realized that I would be on the road for over an hour before I finished.

I ran the last four miles in Avalon (20 to 23) in an average pace of 11:03. The 10:00 miles were nice while they lasted. There were two aid stations during this stretch and I stopped at each to drink water and take in an energy gel. I was now looking for that moment of inspiration to finish this thing off with some faster miles. But I was pretty sure that such a moment would never come to me on this day.

As I was nearing the end of my time in Avalon, I had been running for over three and a half hours. My butt was sore and the aching got gradually worse down my legs. There were some runners around me who would start walking, and I would pass them. Then they would start running again, and they would pass me. The thought of walking crossed my mind, but I didn’t stop. I would like to say this was sheer determination on my part, but I knew that walking a little would turn into walking a lot. In the long run, I was better off to continue what had now become a shuffle. I had 3 miles to go and wanted to finish as best I could.

I got to mile twenty three at 3:46. The mile marker was at the foot of the bridge that takes you into Sea Isle City. In all of my visualization of this race, this was the first of two triumphant moments. The other would be when I got to the boardwalk with the finish line in sight. Running across the bridge was not triumphant by any means, but it was satisfying and not without some pride.

At this point, I knew that my time would end up somewhere in the 4:20 to 4:25 range, probably close to the 50th percentile of those that would finish this race. But my mind was really not handling complex calculations at the time.

After the bridge we took a right turn up 93rd street and then a left on Pleasure Avenue. We would stay on Pleasure Ave until 57th street and then get on the boardwalk for the final .8 of a mile. The turn north was met with a gust which was sustained until the finish. My running on Pleasure Avenue was the slowest of the day. There would be no final push to the finish. But it was nice to see a mile marker with a 25 on it. I ran the final stretch on the boardwalk with the finish line banner waving in front of me. I watched patiently as it got closer and closer. There was nobody in front of me to even think about passing and I actually looked behind me to make sure I wouldn’t be passed. I finished in 4:24.

John. Dad, Danny and Peter were all there and cheering me on. Since this is a small race, and I was finishing alone, the entire crowd was watching me at the end. I walked through the chute; they put a medal around my neck and tried to drape a foil wrap over me. I opted to skip the foil wrap and headed for the benches. I didn’t care if my legs seized up for good. I wanted to sit down immediately. I did and it felt good.

Epilogue (Short)
384 people completed the race and I was the 218th to cross the finish line. My finish time was actually same as the average time for the race: 4:24.

I will naturally conduct a full analysis of the training plan and the race. But I put my finish time in this perspective. My conditioning at the time was probably in the 4:05 – 4:10 range (not a sub 4:00). The weather likely cost me at least 10 minutes. I should have eaten something more substantial during the run. My 11:30 miles at the very end should have been a minute faster, so that probably cost me 3-5 minutes also.

Aside from the finish time, there is simpler perspective. In my first post, over four months ago, I said that this was just something that I wanted to do. And so now I have.