So to untangle the mess! July brought us back home to the South Jersey land. I ended up running 50.7 miles in 10hours and 59 minutes. I raised $1,000 for Back on my Feet. A great organization that is helping the homeless, get back their lives. At the time I finished the race, I was a little disappointed with myself. I had thoughts that I would go all night, see where that took me. Meanwhile I had said out loud that I would go further than 50.... so in telling Rose my thoughts, about it later, she said bluntly, "Well, then your right, you failed!" She was not condemning me, (at least I don't think she was) but more telling me. "Don't be a Jackass, you just ran 50 miles again, so accept what you did, enjoy it, and move on. " In looking back on it, time gains perspective, I realize that in keep keeping it within reason, 1.) I was able to enjoy the vacation down the shore we had planned and not be a cripple, and 2.) I was able to pick-up my training for my big goal race of 2009, a return to the Philadelphia Marathon.
But before I go into that one I do want to write a few more words on the July Ultra. There was something that made this race really enjoyable... Crazy to think its possible, but when you break it down there are not many more pastimes short of eating and and sex that is more indulgent than running (especially Ultra Running) Call a spade a spade, it is a very selfish pursuit. You go out for hours at a time, working and wondering, focusing on yourself, your body, your health your diet, your gear, Your, Your, Your, Self Self, Self. I try my best to be mindful of balance in my life, so my hope is that running brings me into that balance, its my "me time".
But I digress, what made this race enjoyable was it had so many people that are important in my life involved. Jake and my Dad took me to the start. Rose had the girls out for a Pickle Party. The Fogerty's came by, and Tom provided me with a never changing array of music to keep me on my toes. Carlos and Michele Santiago came out. Carlos ran a loop with me and confirmed with me that he too would be running the Philly Marathon. His first! (and we talked a bunch about running and fatherhood, 2 hobbies that he is taking up as well.) So many people donated to the cause, wishing me luck... it wasn't just me... the idiot running through the woods. Everyone was a part.
So as I took off on what would be my last loop I called Rose and I called Dad, both relieved that I was going to wrap it up. I was amazed, as were the two bike patrollers at the kick I had left in my legs after 50 miles. I sprinted to the line... told them I was done, then instructed Dad to get us to the Mt. Ephraim McDonald's. A Chocolate Shake never tasted so good.So now on to the Marathon. Philadelphia my first marathon back in 2005. Jake was just a little guy in diapers... we did not know what a great prize we would have in Margaret in the coming, 7 months.... and I had no idea that this race would skyrocket me into my new hobby, passion, obsession. All I knew was that I wanted to do a Marathon and one of my goals for the race was to finish with the desire to run another . 14 long races later, and here we are. Part of the allure with running is it allows me to set goals. I have always been goal oriented. Big or small, set a date and give me the specifics and I will give it a shot. Even now my running is still filled with goals, complete a mountain race, run a race where I win a Belt Buckle. I'll explain later) Set a new marathon personal best. The latter was what I had in mind for this race. With all this running I have been doing, surely I am a stronger runner... now I just need to reharness what speed I have? Right?
So I designed my Training Plan. I would train myself for 3:30 pace. For the rest of the summer into the Fall, my training was going like clockwork... I was hitting all of my speedwork, long runs were a breeze. Everything was going great. The only glitch in the system was my travel schedule absolutely sucked going into November, just 3 weeks from the race... but hell, I am not a professional, I still have to go to work... I would just have to hope that the travel didn't effect me too much. Plus maybe a week running in Colorado would be some nice altitude work!
Usually there are some fun details to toss in about the trip out..... this time not really, the kids were great in the car. We picked up my number on Friday and we tried to rest up. The kids ran great at the King's Run Saturday morning. We had a great pasta party on Saturday with the Wilk's, Fogerty's, Wall's, Delano's, Santiago's Dunn's and Kuhn's. All was set!I picked up Carlos just before 6am and we hustled into the City. Seeming that we heard early reports of bad traffic getting in. We did get through to the city with little difficulty and parked in the lot to the side of the Public Library. It was a perfect morning, high 30’s maybe in the 40’s. Not a wisp of wind. I was wearing my Wal-Mart sweat material grey mock turtle that I bought in Colorado Springs, with my black fleecy pants… I figured if I had to trash these, Rose would be glad. But hopefully I would be able to throw them to her and the kids waiting at the Puerto Rican flag on the Parkway.
Carlos and I walked to the start. This is where it is interesting going to the start with someone you really never trained with. Body rhythms are not in sync or something. I needed to use the restroom… Carlos was not so sure. We got into a long line. I gave it a good gaze and determined it to be a 20 minute line and we only had 30 minutes to the start. I looked back a block and across and we jogged over. Of course they were marked as “Post-Race Facilities” What kind of BS is this? Unfazed I gave a quick glance over into a construction lot… there are always outhouses there! And as anticipated, I just had to climb an 8 foot chain link fence to get over to completely untouched plastic bathroom! Heaven! Carlos seeing the merit in this idea jumped the fence as well, leaving us with the business of running the race. We got to our corrals, said a farewell and we went our separate ways. No special words of encouragement, it was time to be alone.
I got to my starting point. the corral moved up, Mayor Nutter was going on and on with some MC repeating the same t
hing over and over, I ran over gave his eminence a quick hand shake and we were on our way. Right from the get go I felt strange, like I was out of my body. At the time I did not know if this was a good thing or a bad thing, it was just how I felt. 8:15 for the first mile. About right considering it is always a little slow getting started, I would need to run about 8:01's for the whole race to hit my goal. We headed down towards the river. The 2nd mile takes you past Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell. It is amazing to think of the history… the literal creation of our country took place within the very streets that I was running down. As I passed Ben Franklin's grave, I thought what this great man would have thought of several thousand people, dressed scantily, running 26 miles through his city? It gave a new twist to his famous quote of “Everything in moderation”. Who determines what moderation is? I figured there would be time later to get philosophical.A few more turns to get to the river, but before that I get a great surprise… none other than Dave Mory in a Big Red Rutgers sweatshirt. I went right towards him, gave him a big hi-5, we yelled something at each other and I kept chugging on. 7:58 for the 2nd! Damn, am I going to run miles in the 7’s today? That sure seems fast! Mile 3, 7:58. I don’t feel like I'm too fast, I don’t feel like I am going to slow… which in retrospect may have been how I should have felt. But still this feeling of not being in myself continued. Mile 4 had some crazy aid stops a little dangerous around some turns so 8:11 felt about right. Especially following it up with a 7:55 for the 5th. Back through the Independence Square… right by where Thomas Jefferson crafted the Declaration. The history major in me swelled. 8:03 for 6. Time to head up Chestnut. "Go Rutgers! Hey Rutgers… up stream Red Team." No matter how bad the loss to Syracuse was the day before, on Marathon Sunday the Block R singlet plays! The support was phenomenal. OK, any time now I would be seeing Rose and the kids… any minute now…Mile 7 in 7:54. OK, any minute now… Dad is wearing his black and Red Rutgers hat, got to be around here somewhere… people cheering for me… but all strangers… Jake has to be here somewhere, Mags??? Rose??? At 22nd street now. It would be weird to see them here. They should have been at 17th Street or so. Going uphill into Drexel. Mile 8 in 8:22. Damn it, I missed them, or they missed me. Jake is going to be pissed.
Jake is really into the races. I do not think Rose would mind me saying that I think he may have supplanted her as my number one fan. Since he was a baby he has always been there and behind me in any crazy race I have done. The 10K in Stone Harbor where he could not understand why Daddy kept running away from him. To the Baltimore Marathon, were he lost his best friend Pandy somewhere in the City, to where he ran his own mile race in North Carolina. Good or bad, he has been there to cheer me on. For training runs where he always says” Dad, have a good run!” This year was even more special, when he was able to ride his bike along side me on the Monon Trail for a 4 miler. I began to worry that he would be upset, even inconsolable, that he missed me. I know my sweet sensitive boy all too well! Mile 9 in 8:07 we are going through Drexel now. It getting a little warm so I take off one of my gloves to tuck into my shorts, fumble. This is why you don’t wear you good gloves in a race! I let it go… not breaking stride now. I sadly let its mate go… like Rose letting Jack Dawson go into the icy cold water in Titanic… my heart will go on!
Onto Fairmount Park, up (what I think) is the biggest incline of the race. 8:31 for the mile… a little slow but we’ll catch up. Back down hill, through mile 11 in 8:24. We head down West River Drive. I was looking out for Rose's brothers, Carlos, anyone. I was getting dizzy staring out into a crowd of people so I gave up on seeing anyone. Time to get focused on my race. Mile 12, 8:05. Better! Time to get to the half way point. Hopefully I will see them there. Again, this "not feeling good in my skin" kind of feeling persists. I decide to throw on my earpods. Nothing sounds good! Just as I do this I see signs that say “take out your Earphones” Is this for safety, or will they actually disqualify you? It is still against the rules of most USATF races to wear headphones; maybe they would DQ me? I took them out and let them dangle. Another thing to annoy me. I get to the half way point in 1:47. Basically 3:34 marathon pace. A number that I would be real happy with, but it is at this point where the out of body experience I had been feeling was replaced with an all too real crash back down to reality, where nothing would be good again, till I got to the finish line! I saw Rose and the kids; they were on the “wrong side” of the road .
I cut across, said hello quickly, grabbed my standard race day bottle of mixed Red Bull and Gatorade. Rose asked how I was doing. I could not come up with anything other than to say I was "OK", which was a half truth. I was OK, being that I was stopped for the moment, but going forward, not so much. Immediately upon leaving them I got another natural urge… so after 2 minutes spent in a “During Race” out house I was ready to get going. I got a quick pick-up form hearing my name called out by my guy from the Haddonfield Running Co. After 3 years of not living in the area TJ still remembers me! Cool! Running store guys are the best… indulging all your crazy recreational, weekend warrior ideas. In other worlds, people like this would be called enablers,It did not take long to get real upset. It seems they have changed the Philly race course since I ran it 4 years ago. Now we take a right turn up into the park, up some of the nastiest hills it has to offer. "This is bullshit!", was all I could think. And at that point I noticed my left foot feeling like it broke in two. OK, bring on the suffering!!! Mile 15, 8:39. Still If I can bear down, I can keep this under 3:40. This hopeful thought was wiped away 3 miles later as the 3:40 pace group went passed me, I tried to jump in and keep up. But 8:30 miles were no longer what my mind had in store for my body! Mile 18 was a whopping 9:38. The wheels were coming off the wagon fast. There is no way to explain it other than your legs just start to lock up, every fiber in you begins to ache, and they give the message to your brain that you need to cut this out!
In pure desparation, I grabbed a beer from the guys before mile 20 in Manayunk. I figured if the ship was going down, might as well have a little cold pop! It really didn’t taste good. I think I was still in the middle of thinking I was competing, with the other half of my mind saying "screw it", let’s have fun. This left my mental receptors saying that "beer does not taste good". After the turn around on Main St. my mind got the message. When I made it back to them, that brown ale tasted like it had been squeezed by the God’s themselves! At this point a fraternity Brother, Keith Gilman yelled out from the other side of the road. He looked good and I could tell that it would only be a matter of time till he got up to me.
They say a marathon is a race of two halves. The first half, a 20 miler, the second half, that last wrenching 10K (6.2 miles) I know this all too well, but on this day, when I had clearly spent everything I had on the first 14 miles, I knew this second half would be nothing less than a pain fest. I took some walk breaks, then mixed in some run breaks… but eventually the crowds become so thick on the way back to the Art Museum that I could just not take getting encouragement to keep going while I was walking along. Finally there was a pack of about 4 kids under 10 years old that read my name off my bib, “Come on Kevin, you can do this!” Something clicked in me, and I growled back at them, exchanged high fives and got back to a painful 11:00 minute mile pace, ever so slowly the miles clicked by till I came upon mile 25. I woman held out a bowl, what looked to be the remainder of Halloween candy. Dum Dums mostly, save for one last Kit Kat. I broke into the wrapper like a ravenous wolf and tasted the most vibrant piece of candy I have ever had in my life…. It did nothing for my physical condition, but it changed my mental outlook. As I struggled by the on-lookers, cheering us in, telling us how good we look, and "way to finish strong"… I laughed out loud! Liars! And from my laughs I could tell that the people knew I was on to their charade! 200 yards left I saw my family. My time was so off pace, it made no difference that I would stop and give them all a quick kiss. I dashed, well, maybe not dashed to the finish line, where I saw the Wall family ringing me in with there cowbells. I hit the line in 4 hours 7 minutes, meaning I ran the second half a full 20 minutes slower than I had run the 1st, and I was 19 minutes off my personal best. Not a good showing time wise, but I was glad with the effort. I went for it... I wanted something more than what I was capable at the time, and I lived to tell about it. That is the amazing thing about these races. If you guess wrong, there are major consequences! But shit... I just ran really far, and it was time to get some wings!
In all, it was a great year of running. I totaled more the 1,500 miles for the year. I ran 2 races of 50 or so miles and ran in my 15th marathon type race. Most importantly there wasn’t one injury or issue that kept me from running. For anyone that runs, that is a big deal... something crazy like 70% of runners report some sort of injury that prevents them from running. I have no secrets, just to be mindful of how you run. It isn't something that you can just haphazardly go out and do... that's why people get hurt. You need to learn how to listen to your body but more importantly, to understand what it is saying. If your tired, rest...if something hurts.... you need to figure our why it is hurting... because there is something you can do to correct it. (if you ever want to rap about injury prevention, give me a call, I am an excellent home garage Physical Therapist... and I have stayed at a Holiday Inn Express!)
Too look to the future, it should be an exciting year... boring but exiting. I will probably not "race" more than 2 times this year. I am planning a 50 miler in the spring as a tune-up for my first 100 miler. This is were the goal "earning a belt buckle" comes in. Upon completing most 100 mile races, they confer upon you a big honkin' belt buckle, which I will sport with pride! The choice are either western PA for the Oil Creek 100 or Cassoday, Kansas for the Heartland 100. I will keep you posted!
From us crazy people to you crazy people, we hope you have had a great holiday season, and wish you the best in the coming new year!!!
