I had scheduled this marathon ten weeks before Ironman Lake Tahoe, not necessarily proper training strategy. But in late April, like probably thousands of other runners, I decided I had to show up and run in Boston on Patriot’s Day, 2014. Tribal solidarity, patriotic duty, etc, I guess. Also, I figured the crowds watching would be more massive than usual, and to me, that’s the high point of running in Boston.
So after my spring races (Duathlon nat’l championships, St George 70.3, and American Zofingen duathlon), on May 20th, I started the last 8 weeks of a marathon plan designed specfically to mesh with triathlon training (my Endurance Nation coaches are the best.) I followed the IM training plan for swimming and biking targeted for IMLT. Weeks two to four before my planned race, I trained in Colorado, running between 6-7000′, while living at 8400′.
I chose the Missoula Marathon on July 14th for its date, nearby location to my home in Puget Sound, weather, size, and reputation (Runner’s World top marathon, 2010). It has a cap of 1500 runners, along with a simultaneous half marathon. It’s a popular destination race, being in the summer, half way between Yellowstone and Glacier parks, almost entirely flat, with perfect weather (see below – hard to find in the middle of July!), and undoubtedly the best marathon in Montana, so it attracts a lot of those doing the “marathon in each state” journey. Folks from 49 states were there, most Canadian provinces and scores of countries, so it was a diverse group of runners despite the “small” size.
Missoula lies in a huge basin at 3100′, surrounded by forested mountains rising another 2-4,000′. Three meandering rivers meet near the town. The basin was formed by a giant ice age lake, with the shoreline “benches” notable 500-800′ above the valley floor. The course has a net rise of 25 meters, with one hill of about a half a mile, 150′ total gain, with a subsequent downhill, between 13.4 and 15.9 miles. Quite a relief, really, after all the flats, for this runner who is used to nothing BUT hills when training (I have to drive 30 minutes to find a flat bike path on which to train for the flats.)
I’ve done 6 marathons now, and 4 of them involved getting bused to the start of a point-to-point course. This one meant getting up @ 4:15 AM, getting to the bus by a 4:50 (a 10 minute walk from my motel), and riding along a freeway for 15 minutes. The start was basically a crossroads town. The sky was just turning light when we got there. Sunrise would officially be a few minutes before the 6 AM start, but due to the mountains, we wouldn’t actually see the sun until 3-4 miles into the race. Starting temp was in the high 40s, clear sky. The weather was projected to be in the mid 60s by 10 AM, but the last 8 miles of the course winds through the neighborhoods of Missoula, with a lot of tree cover, and, for the last hour or so, some aberrant clouds. Humidity was not an issue at these temps/altitudes, so all in all, perfect weather given the date. I wore pants and a thinish winter jacket while waiting at the start, and then warmed up in an old long-sleeve T shirt which I planned to chuck about mile 2, but actually took off before the start. I raced in my usual running shorts, which are actually a skin tight knee length nylon “jammer” type swim suit. I wore some bright orange CEP compression sleeves, Saucony Virrata shoes (a “zero-drop” light trainer in which I put a 3 mm riser). Up top, Endurance Nation arm warmers/coolers, an EN tri racing top, and EN visor, and a Garmin 310XT GPS pace watch and heart rate monitor.
For nutrition, I carried a 4 oz bottle of EFS gel and two Clif Shot bloks. Aid stations were every two miles for the first 20 miles, then every mile. They had Gatorade and water. I generally was taking a cup of water every station, and a cup of Gatorade in addition every other stop or so. I walked from taking the cup until about 10 steps after I finished it.
My time goal was was very specific … 3:49.59. I wanted to be 20 minutes under my time to qualify for the Boston Marathon (4:10), to ensure I make it through the registration process this year. That would be an 8:46 min/mi pace, which interestingly is my “long run pace”. With my minimal training of 21 run workouts/190 miles in the 8 weeks leading up to the race, I figured I could do this, but it would end up feeling just as if I had had trained properly and long enough for a time closer to my true potential, more like 3:37. Because failure was not an option, I decided to set an expectation of doing all the miles under (just under) 8:40. I set my Garmin to interval every mile, show my HR, cadence, and current lap pace and time. The only numbers I actually looked at were HR and current lap pace.
I spotted myself halfway between the 8 and 9 minute/mile signs in the start corral. The organizers had pacers every ten minutes starting with 3:10. My plan was to start out at my planned pace, and hold it through every mile, except the three with the hill (1 up, 2 down). The 3:50 pacer planned to hit the hill with two minutes “in the bank”, and then hold pace the rest of the way. I decided to do my own thing, but if the 3:50 group caught me, stay with them until the hill.
In the event, they caught up with me by about mile 9-10, and were doing an 8:25-30 pace at that point. So I picked it up a bit, and we hit 13.1 at 1:52.48, on target for 3:46, just what I wanted. With my up/down hill running expertise, I left them at that point, and started passing all the people who had scooted out ahead of me in the first 8 miles. By miles 16-17, we finished the downhill, went over a bridge, and into town. I had begun picking off “road kill” on the up hill, got more on the down. I noticed a guy in a blue shirt who seemed to be the only person I wasn’t gaining on. I remained about 50 -100 meters behind him for what seemed like five miles, but when we started getting more turns in town, and more frequent aid stations, I caught up to him at about mile 19.
I gave him a little pep talk, telling him he had the best pace of anyone I’d seen, that he wasn’t slowing down while everyone else was. For the next six miles, we ran side-by-side. It was perfect. I don’t like to talk during a race, and he wouldn’t shut up, so that seemed to keep us both occupied mentally while the work got harder and harder. Fun facts I learned about him: he’d done the Aspen Backcountry Marathon 3 weeks earlier, staying in Snowmass during the time I was there also; he was from Ohio (Cleveland – I grew up in Cincinnati); he’s done 52 marathons in the last 65 months, all between 3:45-4:00; I heard about all the ones he’d done just this year. I think I caught him at his “wall” as he was just starting to slow down. And since that wasn’t an option for me, I assured him that we were going to finish at a constant pace, helping him evacuate any thoughts that it was “OK” to slow down a bit.
Anyway, we were popping along at 8:30 miles from 20-23. Then he took a gel at mile 24, and fell behind, so I was left to my own devices, which meant I let myself slow down for the last two miles to 8:44. This ruined my “perfect” record. The results page showed our cumulative paces at 10K, 13.1, 20 miles, and overall. I was 8:37, 8:37, 8:37, 8:38. Grrr! In those last two miles, I backed off mentally with the excuse that (a) I couldn’t break 3:45 (b) I was easily under 3:50, and (c) I didn’t want to make my next week of recovery any longer than it had to be, wanting to get right back to IM training ASAP.
I even walked the last 10 meters or so, to make sure no one else was in my finisher’s photo. I ended up 3:46:10, 2/42 in my AG, and 200 (exactly) OA. The second place was a bonus, but the trophy (the same size as the one for first) was SMALLER than the finishers medal, which was a hefty horse shoe, about 2/3rds actual size.
If you’ve made it this far, I’ll reward you with a few lessons/observations. The biggest thing I got out of doing this was an understanding of just how much I’ve learned about how to race endurance events over the past ten years. I initially did 5 marathons during 2003-2006, basically to get to Boston. The first two times I tried, I end up walking some during the last 10 miles. The third time, I made it the whole way, got 17+minutes under the BQ, but still felt as if things didn’t go right, as I ran out of gas the last 4 miles. Then I ran twice in Boston, and determined never to do another marathon, as I was getting plenty of practice doing IMs. I was following a similar path at that distance, slowly learning about pacing, nutrition, and, most important, what it *feels* like at the end of a race, and how to manage my way through that.
See, I started out back in 1999 thinking that if I were properly trained, and if I were properly pacing myself, the race should *feel* (RPE) the same from start to finish. My great insight (one I’m sure every successful racer gets) is that the longer the race goes on, the harder it feels. Evading or delaying that feeling means one is not racing to one’s full potential. There are two other key steps needed to get to that potential: feeding the engine properly, and pacing steadily. So drinking more than you need at the start, and feeling is if you are running “stupid slow” at the start are key. Then, it’s like Chinese water torture . With every mile, every step, it gets a little harder. From miles 1-8, it’s like that long run pace. From miles 9-16, it’s like one’s “marathon pace”. From 17-22, like half marathon pace, 22-24 like a 10K would feel, and then the last two (if you’re willing – I wasn’t at this race), it’s like a 5k, or even harder by mile 26. Even when going at the exact same speed on a flat course.
But … and here’s the learning for this race … if you do all these things properly – pacing, nutrition, acceptance of the increasing effort needed … it’s almost like cheating. The results just take care of themselves, if all you do is pay attention to the process. I like to think of it as my secret weapon.