Oh marathon, how you tempt me! Constantly teasing me with possibilities!!! What a distance it is though, isn't it? I love the mile, I love the 10k, all of it. But the marathon is really something else. The training is a big part of it, with the big volume workouts and the sense of accomplishment combined with fatigue that each effort affords. In this buildup, I had a few workouts in particular that were especially satisfying (in the runner-masochist sense): 10 x 1mile at half marathon pace, 10k tempos at mp followed by a hard track workout, special blocks, 18 miles at mp, etc. Most efforts left me a little concerned that I wasn't where I needed to be. But when race day finally arrived, I felt prepared.
The days leading up to the race the weather forecast looked ugly. Elizabeth and I stayed in Plympton the night prior to the race, and we arrived to an overcast and windy Cape Cod fall day. I wasn't too nervous; the temps were reasonable and that had been my main concern. I bumped into Terry and Sue on my way back to Elizabeth, and we chatted for a bit. Then Terry and I sat in the car for fifteen minutes or so before jogging to the start line to warm up. The wind was blowing, but it looked like the rain would hold off for the majority of the race - and that proved to be the case. Elizabeth jogged with me as we searched for a short porto line with no luck, and eventually I made my way to the starting line to do some very limited drills and a couple of strides. I was a row or two back from the start of the line, and before I knew it we were off.
My goal was to settle into the low 6s and hopefully find a pack to run with. The first three miles were in the low 5:50s, and I felt comfortable and confident that it wasn't too too fast, but I still wanted to settle into something slightly slower. In that third mile I let myself fall back from a pack of eight or so, and then ran a bit with an SRR and CRC runner before once again feeling like maybe they were going a bit too quick. The next few miles were along the coast and into a head wind and I was struggling to find a rhythm. I could feel my calves and hamstrings tightening up, and felt it was fart too early for that. Admittedly, I was very concerned at how I was feeling overall. I was telling myself that the same thing happened in Dublin and I'd be fine, but the wind was really pushing against me and the effort had started to feel very uneven. After passing Sue and Kyler around the ten mile turnaround, I was starting to think it might be a day to drop out. I'd also been getting passed by a handful of runners, and that wasn't helping.
It's worth noting that miles 6 and 8 were wind-impacted slow miles of 6:33 and slow 6:21. To have splits that slow that early had me thinking there was no chance at my initial goal for the day. I knew that after dealing with the wind for the first ~10 miles or so, I should have more favorable weather after the turnaround so I did quite a bit of self bargaining. My confidence was a little shaky, and even though I didn't feel great, I tried to get myself into a rhythm of low 6s. It felt a forced at first, but each mile became a little more comfortable.
At the halfway mark, I was a little surprised to see the clock say 1:20:22 or so, but a little discouraged. Mentally, I was thinking that this set me up for a potential PR and after feeling sluggish it was still a good split, but it still made my goal feel just out of reach. The way the wind was blowing and when the hills would hit, it would be a tough negative split.
I passed the Whirlaway cheering crew a couple of times and was buoyed by the support as I pressed on. Each time I saw my split, I felt a little bit more encouraged at where I was at. Miles 14 through 18 were 6:00, 5:59, 6:03, 5:59, and 6:00. The 18th mile is when I passed Elizabeth, and I handed off my gloves and really started to think I had a shot. I no longer felt sluggish, and I was away from the shore, so I didn't feel the effects of any wind. I figured now was as good a time as any to make a go for it.
I started to press just a little bit during mile 19, and then mile 20 had the biggest hill of the day. That was the point that I ended up re-passing a bunch of runners that had passed me in the previous ~10 miles. Mile 19 was a quick 5:53, and mile 20 was a rock solid 5:59 with the hill. Miles 21 through 23 were rollers with an awkward turnaround, but my oxygen deprived math told me I would be under 2:40 and I had room to spare (5:57, 5:54, 6:06). The 24th mile was on the bike path and was a beautifully gradual downhill that would have been a great spot to bank a lot of time, but heading back towards the coast it was more like a whirling wind tunnel. More of a cross wind than a headwind, but on another day this could've been much faster. Still, at 5:49, it was my fastest mile of the day.
At the tail end of the 24th mile, I was both confident and fearful. I counted roughly 55 seconds of cushion, and felt like I was on the cusp of being under 2:39. Instead, I was met by an absolutely brutal headwind. I've yet to find any pictures from race day that show the wind in all its might, but mighty it was! On Surf Drive, the wind was coming off of the ocean, and sending a mix of rain and ocean spray into my face. I could feel myself getting pushed around and felt certain this would spell doom for the day. For a moment, I allowed myself to think, "well, at least I'll get a PR"...but as soon as the thought entered my head, I answered back with some choice words. With just over two miles to go, I told myself to allow in all of the suffering. I looked ahead and put a target on the back of whatever runner was ahead of me. Just close that gap...then focus on the next runner...then the next.
I saw my watch read off 6:25, and I was vocally disappointed, angry, and uneasy. I wasn't quite sure how much longer I would need to fight the wind, but if I had another 6:2x mile, I would be in danger of the dreaded 2:40:0X. I started to recognize the landmarks from the Almost 5-Miler, and realized I was awfully close to the finish. I started to pick up the pace, and nearly suffered a cramp so I backed off slightly, and realized I needed to be just a little cautious and as I took the final left and saw the finish line I picked it up again and watched the clock tick. I entered the shoot and had a huge wave of exhilaration as I passed the line in 2:39:42.
Not bad for a hack runner!
https://www.strava.com/activities/2821527722
