Race Report: Austin Marathon 2/20/2011 (Part Two)

The rest of the race is mostly a remembrance of the level of pain (or discomfort) I was experiencing, or the friends I saw along the route.

Miles 13.1-15
As I make the turn onto Bull Creek, I realize I'm not going to remember much from this race. I'm so focused on my effort level, what's going on with my body, and getting through each mile that I'm not taking in much of what's going on around me. That makes some sense because this is my town. I have biked and run these roads so much over years of training that it's familiar. But especially after the halfway point, a lot of the race is just as much a blur today as it was when I ran it. Things I do recall:

The musicians I thought would be an annoyance were absolutely wonderful. I got an energy boost and remembered to smile every time I saw them. Favorite group: the kids choir (Palm School, maybe?)

The aid station volunteers were also wonderful. Some of them had quite the knack for finding and reading names from race bibs and addressing runners (including me!) by name as they handed out water. By the time I got to Bull Creek, I was no longer with Devon and Christina, so that bit of personalized attention was very welcome.

There was one unfortunate volunteer at the aid station along Bull Creek who cheerfully told runners "it's all downhill from here!" I am sure she meant it to be encouraging, but I knew all too well there were hills waiting for me in mile 25 and plenty of false flats before that. I realize I'm overly sensitive to comments like this after all the time spent on the AT hearing people say "you're almost there" when I'm a whole state (or two) away from the end, or "it's all downhill from here" when, quite obviously, it's not. So as I passed, perhaps with a little more bite than necessary, I yelled back "Stop saying that!"

At this point, I'm working a little harder than "comfortably" hard, though "comfortably" in this sense has no relation to sitting on the sofa watching a movie. Then I remember that Amber, who I trained with for my first Half-Iron tri, lives along the course and throws a marathon-watching party in her front yard every year. It's epic - they practically drag their living room onto the front lawn. And there they are - Bad Amber, Amanda, and Mandy, standing in the street cheering us on (probably Shelley, too, but I didn't see her). They recognized me as I ran past and I got another surge of energy that lasted about 200 yards. I'm pretty sure I took in another gel during these miles, but, you know, it's a blur.

Miles 16-20
Making the turn onto White Rock, the only thing on my mind is the long false flat of Great Northern that's coming up. I'm totally zoned out when my buddy Noel from work yells my name from the sidelines and starts running with me. She lets me know the four hour pace group is a little ahead of me (I file that tidbit away with no comment - their race is not my race), asks me how I'm doing, tells me not to waste energy responding, then proceeds to ask lots of questions. I end up chatting more than I intended, which takes an energy toll. But I'm glad for the brief bit of company. I recover from the conversation by the time I hit Great Northern. I'm hoping to see Devon & Christina's crew along here, and sure enough, they spot me as I approach Greenlawn. Again, nice to see support along the route. I had only planned one gel during this section of the race, but take two (good thing I brought that extra) about three miles apart. I think both were caffeinated, so that's three caffeinated gels for the day. I'm still working hard, the quads are tightening up a bit more, but aren't yet painful, and around mile 17 realize that I'm no longer having any discomfort from the hot spots or my foot. I hit mile 20 a little slower than goal pace, but a lot can happen in 6.2 miles.

Miles 21-26.2
I take my last gel between miles 20-21. Five more miles seems like a loooooong way from here. I start gradually picking up my pace around mile 21. From here on it's a total guessing game. I'm trying to hit my splits on my watch but keep missing the roadside mile markers, so I really have no idea what my pace is. That probably worked in my favor to motivate me to work harder. Between 21-22 I wonder if I've had too much caffeine because I feel a little nauseous, but that works itself out within a mile. Alisha & Scott are at North Loop and Lamar with their pups, and a sign for me! Yay. And I see Vishal from training group! More yay! I chose to walk through each aid station to make sure I was adequately hydrating, but in those last 5 miles, it got harder and harder to start running again. By the time I hit mile 23, the legs are really tight. The best I can do is focus on quick, light feet. The less time my feet are on the ground, the less pain in my quads. Other than the quad pain, everything else feels ok, but I'm ready to be done. I am passing lots of people, but it happens in super slow motion. I feel like I'm either zoned out or that I have pinpoint focus on the work at hand (and it is definitely work), I can't tell which, probably doesn't matter.

When I hit mile 25, I am delighted to see that I am two minutes faster than goal pace. Which means I have 10 minutes to run the last 1.2 miles. At least that's how the math worked out in my head. I realize I've got my sub-four in the bag and the thought occurs to me that I could take it easy for the last 1.2. I quickly throw that option out the proverbial window. In all my years of running, I rarely put it all on the line, rarely raced, and am finally learning what it feels like to "leave it all on the course" so that is exactly what I will do until I cross the finish line. This last 1.2 is not easy, those San Jac hills are looming, so I keep something in reserve for them as I run through the t.u. campus. When I hit San Jacinto, I get a little unexpected motivation. Off to my right, two young women are cheering on a girlfriend of theirs, but I find them overly loud and annoying so I run faster to get out of earshot. Before I know it, I'm up & over San Jacinto and heading downhill to Congress. I wait to make the turn onto Congress to open up, but as soon as I do, my legs almost buckle, so I dial it down a notch, then keep pushing across the finish. First marathon done. 3:58:45. Tough, but worth it.

Post Race Thanks
The cheering sections - Devon's family, Christina's family, Noel, Alisha & Scott, Vishal, the volunteers, Bad Amber & Company - thanks for the motivation and encouragement!
Robin - my post-race domestique. That was an unexpected surprise. Thanks for schlepping my stuff, putting up with my rambling, and keeping me company.
Devon's Dad - my loaner dad for the day, who brought fresh garlands from Hawaii for Devon, Christina, and me. Incredibly sweet!
Emily, Nicole & Robin - for joining me for the impromptu celebratory steak dinner
Amy - for the coaching and for helping me create a realistic race plan
Me - for doing the work to train for and execute said plan
My body - for holding together for 26.2

I'm probably forgetting something or someone, but this report is as overdue as the marathon was, so I'm calling it done.

What's next?
I've already signed up for another marathon in the fall. For now, I'm spending the spring trail running - just ran my first 30K race today - and will return to triathlons (and marathon training) this summer.