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

Or, It's About Time!
(I finally run a marathon and finally post the race report - ok, part of it)

First, the week leading up to the race was the most intense pre-event week I've ever experienced. I don't recall being as wound up the week prior to my first Half-Ironman triathlon, which was my biggest event prior to the marathon. The last weekend before the race, I hardly slept Friday and Saturday nights, and I was on a low level adrenaline high most of the week. I repeatedly caught myself tensed up in anxiety mode and would take a few moments to calm myself down and relax. There were elements of fear (what if I reinjure my foot? how bad will the predicted heat be? is my time goal achievable?), but mostly it was nervous anticipation, or anxiety on the edge of the unknown, as I've learned to call it. It was fun to feel that "up" for a week, but I worried that I was wearing myself out before the race even began. Other than general pre-race anxiety, these were the most significant sources of worry leading up to the race:

• Hot spots and blisters that appeared a week and a half before the race. Same shoes and same socks I'd been wearing all through training, so why now?. To circumvent a full-tilt freak out, I emailed my coach, who talked me down and helped me with a plan to deal with them. I soaked my foot in concentrated epsom salts a couple of times and taped my toes for the remaining training runs. By race day the blisters were mostly gone and any possible problems (from those particular spots) were held in check by taping.
• First potential loss of a toenail. Really? I hike 2178 miles and run over 575 in training with toenails intact (a feat in and of itself), and a week prior to the marathon one nail begins to separate itself from my toe? Not the best timing. Looking on the bright side, I reason that losing a toenail makes it official that I'm really a runner, as if that wasn't already obvious. Another quick email to the coach for advice (did I mention my coach is patient?), and I trimmed the remaining nail as close as possible. After which I realized the exposed quick was not at all tender. I assumed I'd lose the rest of the nail during the race and was able to let it go and forget about it.
• Saturday evening, from 4-9pm, the night before the race, when I should be well hydrated and fortified, the salad I had for lunch came back to bite me on the butt. The most delicate way to put it: I did not stray far from the bathroom that night. I grew increasingly concerned that all my efforts to hydrate throughout the week were being foiled. Assessing the situation, I kept up my efforts to hydrate by drinking lots of Nuun and water and decided that if I was still having problems race morning, an Immodium was in order. Amy will no doubt be surprised that I didn't send her a panicky email about this, too. Fortunately, everything worked itself out by race morning, though I did have an Immodium tucked in my pocket during the race for insurance. I probably will never again dine out the day before a race.

Between trips to the bathroom, I forced myself to eat a reasonable dinner, set out all my clothes and gear for race morning, set three different alarms to wake me up, set a timer to remind me to take gels during the race, and reviewed my race plan. Best decision I made: to add an extra (insurance) gel to my nutrition plan. Race morning, my stomach seemed OK, I was able to eat my usual breakfast of oats, almond butter, and banana, and continued to hydrate with water and Nuun. As I left the house, Gracie looked awfully disappointed that I was clearly leaving for a run without her. Sorry pup, but running a marathon is not in your best interest.
Pre-Race
Christina, Kevin, and Matt met me at Rogue and we all drove to within blocks of Congress Ave. (curb service doesn't get any better), where Christina & I got out and started to make our way to gear check and then the porta potties. Kevin & Matt joined us and we met up with Devon and her entourage at the Rogue tent and headed to the start at 6:30. Despite the warm (for a marathon) temps, which were in the low 60s, I was chilly and kept my 2 extra shirts on until about 5 minutes before the start. Pre-race photos, nervous banter, National Anthem, first gel, a bit of water, the starting gun, aaaand we're off, sort of.
Start-Mile 5
Once the race started, we stood there for a couple minutes, then started to walk slowly toward the start line. Lots of people. I'm not a fan of big crowds, but that's what you get with a marathon, in most cases. It took just under 8 minutes to get to the starting line. We started to jog a bit probably 50 yards before the start. Those first two miles were spent trying, for the most part unsuccessfully, to find running space and rhythm. I wondered how much harder those San Jacinto hills would feel when I saw them again in the last mile. I was really glad to have a small water bottle that allowed me to skip the crowded water stops in the first five miles. I missed the first mile marker, so waited for mile 2 to clock my first split, which was 5 seconds faster than goal pace total for the first two miles. Missing the mile markers and not knowing my mile splits would become a theme. Still warming up and looking for my rhythm as we made the turn onto Congress. The long climb going south on Congress is too early in the race to be terribly hard, but I was definitely working and wondering about the shorter, steeper hills to come. Took my first gel as scheduled. Amusing sight - a guy in a red shirt with a picture of a Heinz ketchup bottle on his back, running with a woman in a yellow shirt with a picture of a Heinz mustard bottle on her back. The Heinz's. <dork>I asked them where the relish and hot dog were.</dork> I'll admit it, I was a little giddy to be racing my first marathon.
Miles 6-10
These miles felt the easiest of the whole race; most of my work was concentrated on holding something back. I'd read enough horror stories of people blowing up in the last 6 miles because they'd gone out too fast or pushed the pace in the early miles because it felt good. Fear of "the wall" and an exponentially tougher last 10K held me back, along with my coach's "start easy, finish strong" mantra. These miles also went the fastest, in terms of mental time, not clock time. But they were not without their issues. As I rounded Ben White onto South First, the ball of my right foot felt like one big hotspot. I was completely flummoxed. Why was I getting a giant hotspot where I'd never had one before? This did not bode well for the rest of the race, and there was a lot of it left. I tried some minor adjustments to my foot strike, but nothing seemed to resolve it, so I resigned myself to keep working and address it if it got worse. Took my second gel as planned, and had a few swigs of Christina's coconut water, which her support crew had on hand when we hit Cesar Chavez. Immediately after taking it I worried I'd made a mistake, since I'd never trained with it. As we made the approach to Winstead, the 4 hour pace group passed us, going at what seemed like a pretty good clip. I felt a little concerned, but also knew they were going faster than my goal pace, so I let them go and continued to run my race plan.
Miles 11-13.1
Ah, the turn onto Enfield where the marathoners split off from the half-marathoners, the course, to my relief, became less crowded with runners, and the hills started to get serious. I was working pretty hard to stay on pace, and had taken my first caffeinated gel earlier than planned. I was hoping for a little boost for the hills. As it was, I maintained pace through the hills, but that was the extent of the boost. When I hit the halfway point, I was a full minute slower than goal pace, but I didn't know that because I only knew my goal splits for five mile increments. I was glad to crest the last big hill (for awhile) at the 35th street overpass. Structurally, I had no foot pain, the hotspot was no worse, but, my quads were beginning to feel a little tight. The real work was supposed to start at mile 20, but it felt like it had already started.

to be continued...

Note: It has taken far longer than I planned to write this. The day after the race, I received some heartbreaking news that took priority. While I dealt with that, the race report was on hold. Thanks for your patience.