Honolulu Marathon - Every Second Counts
When I signed up to run the Honolulu Marathon, I knew I could do it. I had finished five Ironman races, so by extension, I had finished five marathons. So, while this was my "first" marathon, it really wasn't. So, barring injury, finishing wasn't the issue. The issue was how fast would I do it?
Throughout the season, I had been working on increasing my run speed. Five years of long-slow-distance had taught me how to run long and slow. At a heartrate of 150-155, I can go forever, as long as I can eat. So, throughout the season I had been doing some "tempo runs" - runs of 15ish minutes at higher than race-pace. I didn't get in nearly as many of those as I wanted. Although the run team and the IronTeam didn't overlap too much, I still found it difficult to get in all the workouts. Also, my right IT band gave me some grief through much of the training.
All that said, when I went to Monterey for the 20 miler, I figured it would be a good test of my fitness for race day. Rather than run with my friends, I decided to run strictly on my heartrate. I started out easy, keeping my HR under 150. After 3 miles, I picked it up to 155 to the turnaround. On the way back, I let my HR rise to 165-170. For the last 3 miles, I just ran. My lactate threshold is around 170, so I definitely finished above threshold. When I got to the finish, I had run the 20 miles with a barely negative split, in 3:45 - a pace of about 11:15 a mile. I felt good, my nutrition worked, my body held up, everything was good. That pace corresponded to a marathon time of 4:52. People often run faster on race day, so my guess was 5 hours plus-or-minus 15 minutes.
Fast-forward a few weeks. Sitting on the beach in Honolulu, it's warm, and windy. This is not a surprise. It's always warm there. The race starts at 5:00 AM, so you can spend as much time out of the sun as possible. So, on race morning, at 4:00 AM, I walked to the start line with some friends. We had discussed what to do if you needed to bring something to stay warm in the morning, but it wasn't necessary. It was 70+ degrees at 4 in the morning! Shorts, Singlet, Shoes... that's it.
At 5:00 AM, the fireworks went off, and the race started. We stood still. With 30,000 racers, it takes a while to get to the start... And we "cheated" and lined up by the sign that said 3:00-3:30 - which is WAY faster than I was going to run. After about 15 minutes of shuffling in the crowd, I crossed the start line.
I started with my race plan. Keep the heartrate around 150 for the first 3 miles or so. The first couple miles were more like an obstacle course. I was passing people left and right, and getting passed almost as often. I passed the 1 mile marker in about 12:45, but figured it was just the obstacle course. When I passed the 2nd mile marker, in about the same time, I realized it wasn't going to be a fast day.
My folks had said they'd be on the left side of the road around mile 4. So, when I got to mile 3, I moved over to the left. I hit mile 4, no parents. I kept looking, and when I approached mile 5, I thought I'd missed them. Then, suddenly, there they were... I said a quick "hi" and headed on up the hill.
As we climbed diamondhead, the road narrowed to one lane. Packed like sardines, we all trudged up the hill. I was still running, and feeling pretty good. Near the top, I looked to the right and saw a tiny sliver of orange peeking out from behind the blue water. The sun was rising. I had timed it perfectly to watch the sunrise. As I ran by, I admired the view, and watched hundreds of runners stop to take pictures!
Down the backside of diamondhead, I saw the lead runner. He was all alone, second place was nowhere to be seen. I think he had about 2 1/2 miles to go. I heard later that he had made his move about a mile earlier, leaving the 2nd place runner in the dust.
As the miles wore on, the sun got brighter, and it got warmer. Around mile 10, I looked at my watch and realized I had been running for two hours. At this point, I knew that my 5 hours wasn't going to happen. But I was happy to realize that I had run 2 hours continuously without much of a thought. I still felt great, and was having a good time. On the other hand, I was distressed to realize that I wasn't even half way there.
Around this time, I was going down a nice hill straight into the sun. I had to take off my sunglasses because they were so fogged up, and the rising sun was so bright I couldn't see a thing. I kept hearing this big voice behind me... "Thank you Mr. Newton... Mahalo Honolulu PD.... Thank You Newton" I had to think about it... The guy was thanking the volunteers, and Isaac Newton. We were going down a nice long hill, and when he passed me, I realized he was at least 6'6" and easily 260. On the downhill, gravity truly was his friend.
More miles... more miles... It was an interesting crowd. Over half of the racers, and probably over half the fans, were Japanese. So there was lots of cheering that I didn't understand. The Japanese runners all seemed to be carrying spray cans. Every once in a while they'd stop at the side of the road and spray their legs with something. I think it was a spray-on pain reliever of some kind. Later in the race the air was filled with the smell of this stuff. Lots of folks had their "expected" finish times on their back. I was running with folks with times expected of 4:00, and others expecting 7:30. They're way off. I saw people running with small children - like 8 year-olds. Then, there was the man who passed me running in wooden sandals, counting out his cadence as he ran.. "Ichi, Ni!, Ichi Ni!" (I understood that much Japanese).
Around 16, I had a few twinges in my right knee. This was the IT band that had been bugging me for a couple months. I walked for about half a mile and stretched a little. I had been slowing down a bit, and walking a bit more. The heat was getting to me. I had passed the turn-around point, and was starting to see friends who were still on the way out. Some looked great, others were having trouble. It was a tough day for all of us.
Around 18 or 19, I ran into Stacey from the team. She was doing great and keeping a good pace. I decided that I would try to run with her. At that point, she was going faster than I wanted to, but I had to keep up. So, she and her friend kept on talking, and every once in a while, I'd add a word or two... but not more. We walked the water-stops, but otherwise ran. I have no idea how fast we were running, but it sure felt fast. About 3 miles later, I couldn't hang, and decided to walk.
All along, I had in my mind that there's no way I can do a marathon and NOT beat my best marathon time. I mean, my previous best time was after a 2.4 mile swim and 112 mile bike. But, as the day wore on, I realized that it would probably happen. I might not beat my PR. My marathon PR had been set at Ironman Canada 2003. I didn't remember the exact time, but I remembered a time of 5:52. As I looked at my watch, I did some math and realized I wasn't going to make it. So, when I fell behind Stacey, I decided to walk.
After about a mile of walking, I ran into coach Jody. We talked a bit, and continued to walk. Eventually, we ran into coach Ken, and we continued to walk. Ken and I talked about the PR, and he offered to "pace" me in for the rest of the race (at this point, about 3 miles to go). I would have needed to do 3 10-minute miles at this point... And considering, I hadn't done one of them all day, I decided it wasn't worth the effort. So I walked some more. Coach Mark joined us and told some story about a friend who rented a house nearby, and I don't really remember the rest, it didn't seem to have much of a point, except to take your mind off the pain... but I guess that was the point.
So, back now at the top of diamondhead, I decided enough was enough, and I was going to get this thing over with. So I started running, planning to run the rest of the way home (2 miles or so). Thanking Isaac Newton, I headed down the hill. I ran into a few of my mentors who were there to cheer and take photos.
I made my way down the chute, seeing my parents on the side. I crossed the finish line in 5:57:20. I was about an hour slower than my expected time.
After the race, I sat in the TNT tent and compared stories with my teammates. We all had tough days. One friend who has run over 20 marathons said this was the slowest race she'd ever had. Clearly, it was a warm day. I spent a few more days in Hawaii, hanging out on the beach, and generally relaxing. When I got home, I looked in my log book. I wanted to see how much I'd missed my PR by. Then I got the surprise. My 2003 IM Canada run time was 5:57:21.
I had PR'd. By ONE SECOND. But, every second counts, and a PR is a PR. I can't imagine how annoyed I would have been if after all that walking, I had missed the PR by one second.
Clearly this wasn't the race I'd hoped for, but as I said that day, and continue to say... Any day you cross the finish line is a good day. And, if things go the way they usually do for me, I'll be doing another marathon. I don't know which one yet, or when... but I don't ever do something just once. I have to do better. I know I can beat my PR by more than just one more second. Maybe next time I'll pick a race where it's not so hot! So, we'll see what happens.
Thank you to all who donated to my fundraising effort. We raised over $4400 to fight blood cancers.
Throughout the season, I had been working on increasing my run speed. Five years of long-slow-distance had taught me how to run long and slow. At a heartrate of 150-155, I can go forever, as long as I can eat. So, throughout the season I had been doing some "tempo runs" - runs of 15ish minutes at higher than race-pace. I didn't get in nearly as many of those as I wanted. Although the run team and the IronTeam didn't overlap too much, I still found it difficult to get in all the workouts. Also, my right IT band gave me some grief through much of the training.
All that said, when I went to Monterey for the 20 miler, I figured it would be a good test of my fitness for race day. Rather than run with my friends, I decided to run strictly on my heartrate. I started out easy, keeping my HR under 150. After 3 miles, I picked it up to 155 to the turnaround. On the way back, I let my HR rise to 165-170. For the last 3 miles, I just ran. My lactate threshold is around 170, so I definitely finished above threshold. When I got to the finish, I had run the 20 miles with a barely negative split, in 3:45 - a pace of about 11:15 a mile. I felt good, my nutrition worked, my body held up, everything was good. That pace corresponded to a marathon time of 4:52. People often run faster on race day, so my guess was 5 hours plus-or-minus 15 minutes.
Fast-forward a few weeks. Sitting on the beach in Honolulu, it's warm, and windy. This is not a surprise. It's always warm there. The race starts at 5:00 AM, so you can spend as much time out of the sun as possible. So, on race morning, at 4:00 AM, I walked to the start line with some friends. We had discussed what to do if you needed to bring something to stay warm in the morning, but it wasn't necessary. It was 70+ degrees at 4 in the morning! Shorts, Singlet, Shoes... that's it.
At 5:00 AM, the fireworks went off, and the race started. We stood still. With 30,000 racers, it takes a while to get to the start... And we "cheated" and lined up by the sign that said 3:00-3:30 - which is WAY faster than I was going to run. After about 15 minutes of shuffling in the crowd, I crossed the start line.
I started with my race plan. Keep the heartrate around 150 for the first 3 miles or so. The first couple miles were more like an obstacle course. I was passing people left and right, and getting passed almost as often. I passed the 1 mile marker in about 12:45, but figured it was just the obstacle course. When I passed the 2nd mile marker, in about the same time, I realized it wasn't going to be a fast day.
My folks had said they'd be on the left side of the road around mile 4. So, when I got to mile 3, I moved over to the left. I hit mile 4, no parents. I kept looking, and when I approached mile 5, I thought I'd missed them. Then, suddenly, there they were... I said a quick "hi" and headed on up the hill.
As we climbed diamondhead, the road narrowed to one lane. Packed like sardines, we all trudged up the hill. I was still running, and feeling pretty good. Near the top, I looked to the right and saw a tiny sliver of orange peeking out from behind the blue water. The sun was rising. I had timed it perfectly to watch the sunrise. As I ran by, I admired the view, and watched hundreds of runners stop to take pictures!
Down the backside of diamondhead, I saw the lead runner. He was all alone, second place was nowhere to be seen. I think he had about 2 1/2 miles to go. I heard later that he had made his move about a mile earlier, leaving the 2nd place runner in the dust.
As the miles wore on, the sun got brighter, and it got warmer. Around mile 10, I looked at my watch and realized I had been running for two hours. At this point, I knew that my 5 hours wasn't going to happen. But I was happy to realize that I had run 2 hours continuously without much of a thought. I still felt great, and was having a good time. On the other hand, I was distressed to realize that I wasn't even half way there.
Around this time, I was going down a nice hill straight into the sun. I had to take off my sunglasses because they were so fogged up, and the rising sun was so bright I couldn't see a thing. I kept hearing this big voice behind me... "Thank you Mr. Newton... Mahalo Honolulu PD.... Thank You Newton" I had to think about it... The guy was thanking the volunteers, and Isaac Newton. We were going down a nice long hill, and when he passed me, I realized he was at least 6'6" and easily 260. On the downhill, gravity truly was his friend.
More miles... more miles... It was an interesting crowd. Over half of the racers, and probably over half the fans, were Japanese. So there was lots of cheering that I didn't understand. The Japanese runners all seemed to be carrying spray cans. Every once in a while they'd stop at the side of the road and spray their legs with something. I think it was a spray-on pain reliever of some kind. Later in the race the air was filled with the smell of this stuff. Lots of folks had their "expected" finish times on their back. I was running with folks with times expected of 4:00, and others expecting 7:30. They're way off. I saw people running with small children - like 8 year-olds. Then, there was the man who passed me running in wooden sandals, counting out his cadence as he ran.. "Ichi, Ni!, Ichi Ni!" (I understood that much Japanese).
Around 16, I had a few twinges in my right knee. This was the IT band that had been bugging me for a couple months. I walked for about half a mile and stretched a little. I had been slowing down a bit, and walking a bit more. The heat was getting to me. I had passed the turn-around point, and was starting to see friends who were still on the way out. Some looked great, others were having trouble. It was a tough day for all of us.
Around 18 or 19, I ran into Stacey from the team. She was doing great and keeping a good pace. I decided that I would try to run with her. At that point, she was going faster than I wanted to, but I had to keep up. So, she and her friend kept on talking, and every once in a while, I'd add a word or two... but not more. We walked the water-stops, but otherwise ran. I have no idea how fast we were running, but it sure felt fast. About 3 miles later, I couldn't hang, and decided to walk.
All along, I had in my mind that there's no way I can do a marathon and NOT beat my best marathon time. I mean, my previous best time was after a 2.4 mile swim and 112 mile bike. But, as the day wore on, I realized that it would probably happen. I might not beat my PR. My marathon PR had been set at Ironman Canada 2003. I didn't remember the exact time, but I remembered a time of 5:52. As I looked at my watch, I did some math and realized I wasn't going to make it. So, when I fell behind Stacey, I decided to walk.
After about a mile of walking, I ran into coach Jody. We talked a bit, and continued to walk. Eventually, we ran into coach Ken, and we continued to walk. Ken and I talked about the PR, and he offered to "pace" me in for the rest of the race (at this point, about 3 miles to go). I would have needed to do 3 10-minute miles at this point... And considering, I hadn't done one of them all day, I decided it wasn't worth the effort. So I walked some more. Coach Mark joined us and told some story about a friend who rented a house nearby, and I don't really remember the rest, it didn't seem to have much of a point, except to take your mind off the pain... but I guess that was the point.
So, back now at the top of diamondhead, I decided enough was enough, and I was going to get this thing over with. So I started running, planning to run the rest of the way home (2 miles or so). Thanking Isaac Newton, I headed down the hill. I ran into a few of my mentors who were there to cheer and take photos.
I made my way down the chute, seeing my parents on the side. I crossed the finish line in 5:57:20. I was about an hour slower than my expected time.
After the race, I sat in the TNT tent and compared stories with my teammates. We all had tough days. One friend who has run over 20 marathons said this was the slowest race she'd ever had. Clearly, it was a warm day. I spent a few more days in Hawaii, hanging out on the beach, and generally relaxing. When I got home, I looked in my log book. I wanted to see how much I'd missed my PR by. Then I got the surprise. My 2003 IM Canada run time was 5:57:21.
I had PR'd. By ONE SECOND. But, every second counts, and a PR is a PR. I can't imagine how annoyed I would have been if after all that walking, I had missed the PR by one second.
Clearly this wasn't the race I'd hoped for, but as I said that day, and continue to say... Any day you cross the finish line is a good day. And, if things go the way they usually do for me, I'll be doing another marathon. I don't know which one yet, or when... but I don't ever do something just once. I have to do better. I know I can beat my PR by more than just one more second. Maybe next time I'll pick a race where it's not so hot! So, we'll see what happens.
Thank you to all who donated to my fundraising effort. We raised over $4400 to fight blood cancers.
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