Philly Marathon 2012 Race Report

This blog is more or less a race report of what I did for the Philly Marathon this year and where things may have gone wrong.

The week before the race I was under the pressure of shin splints forming. I think this was due to a lot of heavy running on sidewalks in the weeks leading up to the race. I took the week before the race pretty much off from running and did workouts on the bike to make up for my runs. I also wore compression socks during the week at work and sneakers to help be comfortable and relieve any pressure from my shins. Saturday I picked up my packet, a new pair of shoe inserts (to account for over pronating), and a new pair of compression socks.

Rule #1 of any race... NO NEW GEAR! I know I made a drastic mistake but I ran for the first time in my new compression socks on race day for the marathon.

I tried to run differently from how you're supposed to, how I normally would run. I decided to try to hold a fast pace from the very beginning. My goal was to push for a 3:15 finish. Mile 1 7:09. I felt good except for the need to pee (never chugging a bottle of water before a race again... probably). Mile 2 - 3 14:38 including a stop for a pee break. The average for these 2 miles is 7:19 and I was feeling great like everyone should in the first few miles of a marathon. At this point I was sipping gatorade from my fuel belt instead of taking a cup from the table. Mile 4 7:18 running by my house in Philly. Mile 5 7:16, I saw some familiar friends and was looking for an aid station which I didn't see until mile 6. I took in a GU just before the aid station near mile 6 and did a cup of water and a cup of gatorade. Mile 6 I ran 7:30. Mile 7 usually has a great crowd but this was only ok so this was a 7:21. At mile 8 7:32 I took in both water and gatorade. I got some gatorade in my eye, it burned. At mile 9 7:35 a fellow runner and I who were aiming for the same pace realized we've been together for a lot of the race and were both going strong. Mile 10 8:12 had a tough hill and walked to take a GU before the aid station. I took a water and a gatorade. Mile 11 7:17, I'm still feeling good and trying to make up ground for walking. Mile 12 7:40 my right calf starts to hurt. Not sure the pain at the time. I thought it was a potential cramp but it turns out it was not. Mile 13 8:11, I see my parents and my brother Steven. They say I look strong, but I didn't. I was in pain for 2 miles in my right calf and in mile 14 8:22 it moves to my left calf. Mile 15 8:02, I wanted to see how far I could push my pain which at this point is still only in my calves. Mile 16 9:07, I'm texting back and forth with Barbie who only encourages me to not get hurt and do what I think is best - my knee was hurting during this mile along with my calves. I took a GU here and almost a bottle of Gatorade on my race belt. Mile 17 7:36, I start encouraging myself to push and move out loud which I think also encourages other runners around me. Mile 18 8:06, still hurting, I head for Manayunk. Mile 19 8:53, going into Manayunk I'm just realizing that I'm going to finish and I don't care the pace. Mile 20 8:23, Mile 21 8:30, Mile 22 8:30 took a GU water and gatorade, Mile 23 8:27, feeling good and can maybe finish strong at a pace for 3:25. Mile 24 8:43, I get my last water and gatorade and I feel like absolute crap. Mile 25 9:15, still don't feel good in my calves but not actually cramping, just pain. Mile 26.2 9:41 for the last 1.2 miles (avg 8:04), I felt good so I tried to push knowing I can still make under 3:30 and what I ended up cramping in my right groin a little bit. I pushed through the end and finished in pain in my calves.

There was a water/gatorade station every 2 miles. I had water and gatorade at almost every station. There were a few stations in the beginning where I only had gatorade. The pain in my calves I think is due to wearing new compression socks for the first time and they dug into the top of my leg calves just below the knees. I actually had cuts and impressions there on both legs for a couple of days after the race and I was very sore there. Barbie said just the one side of my face was covered in salt. My jersey and shorts looked normal (aka not salty). I didn't take any salt tablets but I didn't feel lack of energy until the last 2 miles. I needed more gatorade but unfortunately that was all the water stations they gave was every 2 miles.

Lake Placid Devastation

The hurricanes going through the northeast have placed some damage in Lake Placid and the lovely surrounding towns. The following is a link to a report explaining some of the damage and other news reports for the surrounding area... http://ironman.com/mediacenter/ironmanfoundation/essex-county-site-of-ironman-lake-placid-devastated-by-aftermath-of-hurricane-irene#axzz1X6k4kRWk

Insomnia settling in

It has been 3 weeks since my failed attempt at the ironman, and there are 49 weeks until I get to try again. For the last 3 nights I've either failed to get a good night sleep or had a crazy dream of failing a second time. I'm not sure yet how to handle this feeling. I'm trying to think about upcoming races, distract myself with a night out on the town, watch something mindnumbing on the television, eat a package of oreos, play with my puppies, dance, climb, swim, run, ride, you name it I've probably tried it (except drugs) and I just can't stop thinking about how the race could have gone. I should have used the guys shirt as a temporary gauze wrap until I got to the medical tent. I should have just got back on the bike. I should have never been so close to the side. I should have refused the medic and kept going. I should stop watching all of the YouTube videos of the race. I shouldn't watch the NBC special that'll be on universal sports channel on 8/26. I shouldn't keep that ripped jersey from that day. I should figure out a way to deal with this for 49 weeks so I don't drive those closest to me crazier than I already am. I should... Go to bed! Sorry these are just my exact thoughts that are on a shuffle/repeat mode in my head. For now I know the best I can do is "If at first you don't succeed, tri, tri, tri again!"

342 days, 4 hours, 22 minutes...

Back In the Saddle Again!

I recently just swam for the first time since Ironman Lake Placid, 2 weeks ago. The shoulder and arm feel fine. No pain, no gain, but there actually was no pain at all so I'll still just be an average swimmer tomorrow. During the entire swim session, I was trying to figure out how I swam 2.4 miles just 2 weeks ago, how I did it in 1:26, how much faster I can get for next year, and what I need to do to get there.

The last 2 weeks were not the easiest for me. The empty feeling of not finishing an Ironman drove me nuts. I looked up every ironman race all over the world for the remainder of the 2011 season and there is one that is still not sold out, Wales September 11, 2011. I had the budget worked out for both my support crew and me, but eventually realized the trip would not be feasible. So how do I move on from the race and train for next years race? Just fill in the remaining 346 days with other races. It's like swimming 2.4 miles, you have to take it 1 bouey at a time and watch out for guard rails.

Right now my current schedule is the following:

Sept 3, 2011             Boulder Sunset Triathlon (Olympic distance)

Sept 23-24, 2011     Ragnar Relay Race ~180 miles, 12 people, 2 vans, no sleep

Oct 2, 2011              70.3 Ironman Poconos (1/2 iron)

Nov 20, 2011           Philadelphia Marathon

July 22, 2012            IRONMAN LAKE PLACID (leave your guard rails at home)

Here's a link to my photos from Ironman Lake Placid 2011: https://picasaweb.google.com/108020159960837106309/IronmanLakePlacid2011?authkey=Gv1sRgCKHj5tP43vG_-AE#

Ironman Goals Derail at Mile 51.4

After a long journey of training to join the elite Ironman club, everything unravels with a rusty guard rail and a close pass. The week/weekend up to the race went just like my training, perfect. Even the race was going perfectly up until mile 49 of the bike course.

Then, tragedy strikes! Another athlete with a freshly repaired wheel, performed a close pass to regain his position. Unfortunately this pass occurred, as my riding line was disappearing. To the right of me was a brick wall, but ahead of me was a guard rail jutting out from the brick wall, and no where to go on my left because of the passing biker. Light bulb, I'll use my right hand to push off the guard rail and keep my bike and me on the road. I overlooked the fact that I was cruising at 17-18 mph, so when I pushed off the rusty guard rail, I more or less jammed it with my right wrist. My front wheel hit the guard rail and I was launched from my bike with my left shoulder leading the fall. All would have been okay if my shoulder didn't land directly on the corner of the beam holding up guard rail. My shoulder sliced right open and I was on the ground yelling the F word for multiple reasons: crashing, the close pass, my bike potentially being screwed up, blood pouring out of my shoulder, and the inner layer of skin hanging out.

Luckily for me a competitor behind me and a spectator came to my aid and guiding athletes around the accident. They said I hit pretty hard and fast, and I was maybe a 1/2 mile from the next aid station. A couple of volunteers came from the aid station, and sacrificed a shirt to help contain the bleeding. Unfortunately neither volunteer had gauze on them so they called for medic support. While waiting for about 30-40 minutes, I had one volunteer go through my bike and fix any problems (dropped chain and shifted aero bars). At this point I realized that my time goals diminished in front of my eyes, but I should still be able to finish before midnight, and that I needed to get back on my bike so my support team would know I'm okay.

The medic arrives; I walk over to the ambulance ready to get bandaged up to get back on the hunt for the finish line. "What happened? Did you hit your head? Do you know what you're doing right now? Squeeze my finger? What's your heart rate?" Some of the questions that I answered numerous times to the same people. "Can you just wrap it up and let me back on the course?" The only question I asked about every 5 seconds I was in the ambulance. I tried to squeeze the guys finger off so I could get back on and prove that I just had a deep cut. Apparently the cut was too deep to continue and I no longer had the option. Final prognosis: deep cut tearing through 2 layers of skin and muscle. I received a couple of internal stitches and about 8 external stitches. They were concerned with how deep the cut was, potential nerve damage, infection, and blood loss.  I was worried about finishing.

I lost it, my day was over, my bike was transported to the transition area, and when I got to the hospital, they cut off my Ironman wristband. I had to make the call to a concerned support team (mom, dad, and Barbie), and let them know what was going on. They were waiting for about an hour, recalculating the time they should have seen me, growing concern for every moment that passed. Luckily they were awesome, walking to the hospital to comfort me.

I'm sorry that it took a while to get word out to everyone. I was more disappointed in myself for not being able to finish, and I'm still hoping that I can wake up and the race will be tomorrow. I would like to say thank you to well everyone! I know a lot of people were tracking me, looking for me to crush the race and cheering every step of the way. I'm sorry I could not pull through for everyone, but I did feel a world of support from every single one of you during the race. I would like to send a special thanks to my mom, dad, and Barbie for joining me in Lake Placid and taking such great care of me before, during, and even more so after the race. I don't even want to imagine what the race would have been like without any of you there; thank you SO much! I also have to thank my trainer Cami who started working with me at the end of March and whipped me into perfect shape for the race; I was well prepared for the event, and I'm only going to come back stronger. Thank you also to my roommates, and family who helped with the puppies, dinner, my sanity, and other things during my most bizarre training routines.

On a good note: I am signed up for Lake Placid Ironman 2012 (361 days, 5 hours, 19 minutes), I have the 1/2 Ironman at Poconos on October 2nd, and I'm looking for more with a vengeance. PS My goal times for next year are even more ridiculous being that I was on pace and feeling good enough to beat my goal times this year. If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again

I have many other stories about the race: days leading up, the morning of, swimming without a wetsuit, being part of a school of 2800 fish in my best swim performance yet, the amazing story of NY Firefighter Matt Long, and much more.

The Point of No Return...

...when you decide that there is no way you will turn back, quit, give up, no matter what! I went for my last bike ride the other day on my bike until I see it at Lake Placid. Needless to say I forgot about the weather of Colorado Springs where rain comes over Pike's Peak out of nowhere in the spring and summer months. Climbing on my normal loop through the Air Force Academy, I realized that the inevitable storm would commence as I would reach the descent where I normally hit 50mph.

This is when I realized I have officially hit the point of no return. I started thinking about everything that could go wrong: a car clipping me, losing traction at high speed and get launched into a guard rail, run over by the bucks staring at me on the side of road, miss judging a corner on the road, or anything else you can possibly think of. Thank you Tour De France for implanting these thoughts into my head. The funny part of this is, cars on back roads attempt to swurve into runners more than cyclists. This might be a problem just in Colorado Springs, but I've never had a problem with cars hating runners anywhere else.

With all of this going through my mind, I realized there is no way I'm not racing in Lake Placid on July 24, 2011. If I crash my bike, I'll buy/rent/borrow another one. If I break a leg or an arm, I'll get an air cast or something and tape it up. I was watching the Ironman 2010 World Championship, and there was a lady who did the marathon with a boot on her left foot because she suffered a stress fracture weeks before the race. Of course now I'm only encouraged to do the same if I ever find myself in a similar situation. So what I'm saying is I'm past the point of no return, which in actuality occurred when I signed up for the race, and refreshed it when I ran my first marathon, swam 2.4 miles in the pool, and rode a century in Denver.

Now what everyone should realize is the chances of any of those things happening are slim to nil, and I'm just freaking myself out because well if I don't, who will. My apologies to anyone I may have worried, and to ease your mind, I did receive my my RoadId this past week in the mail which has my name, birthday, emergency contacts, and a message, "I fell and can't get up, put me on bike or call:". So if god forbid, anything happen to me, I'll be well taken care of.

6 days, 5 hours, 41 minutes

Nobody likes you when you're 23... What's My Age Again?

This past weekend was my longest workout weekend before my first Ironman, and now the taper begins. There were a lot of positive and some negative moments, especially during my 3 hour run. The goal of this run was to correct my nutrition during a long run, for my last few runs my legs cramped up after 1 1/2 hours. Little did I know that other problems would arise.

With a new plan for nutrition I surged through my run carrying plenty of Hammer Endurolyte pills, GU, 2 small water bottles, and a 2L camelback full of Gatorade. I sipped on my camelback throughout the entire run, and I replenished with a GU gel and 2 Endurolyte pills every 45 minutes. With this new plan I made it through a 3 hour run, 21 miles, 1200ft of climbing, averaging 8:32/mile without even a simple muscle cramp. Success and definitely prepared for the Ironman in these regards.

So what was the major problem? Why did Blink 182's "What's My Age Again" play over and over in my head. Maybe this happened because I have ADD, amused by prank phone calls, act like I'm still in freshman year, but my friends say I should act my age... what's my age again? About four years ago I made a few bad decisions to say the least. After tearing my ACL and meniscus in a couple of shots, made a decision to hobble around on a soccer field 3 days before surgery in a coed indoor soccer game. Three and a half months after surgery, I jumped back onto the field fearlessly and re-tore unhealed meniscus in the same knee. Playing through that pain for another year and a half I finally had surgery to scope the knee. This is apparently a common trait for Tarrant soccer players, and are decisions I wish I made differently when I was 23.

At about mile 3, some little alien creature was hammering on my knee consistently until about mile 19, but this pain never escalated. Now the real test was on. I would cycle through the same questions over and over. Am I maintaining the same pace? What's my pain threshold? If I'm in pain like this on a 21 mile run, how's it going to be at Lake Placid after everything else? Can I finish the Ironman in the time I desire or even finish? Should I have a roommate pick me up and try again tomorrow? I don't have answers to all of these questions, but I did finish my run and in a reasonable time at elevation. My endurance session became a mental training session. I do know that unless a gigantic alligator sneaks up on me in Lake Placid, I will finish the race.

Now I'm in the homestretch where I need to basically stay healthy, keep going through the motions, and keep confident in my training. Right now I think my biggest mistake on race day would b something like running the marathon with my bicycle helmet on.

16 Days, 5 Hours, 33 Minutes