5:01:23 (AKA 40 at 40)

This past February 24th, I ran The Phoenix Marathon with a time of 5:01:23.

Call it hubris.  Call it a chip on my shoulder.  Call it a midlife crisis.  Call it plain stupidity.  Truthfully, i think i did it for all these reasons.  Two years ago, nearing the end of my PCCM fellowship and feeling that i was quickly approaching the big four-O with nothing to show for it, i hit upon the idea of doing "40 at 40."  There was no way i'd be able to finish a 40-miler (in retrospect, perhaps i should have tried anyway), but i thought a forty (and change) kilometer-er would be doable.  After all, i'd done it before, in decent time.

Getting from there to here was no easy task.  Though i knew what i needed to do, the logistics were nigh-impossible to work with.  That same year, i had shoulder surgery and was physically restricted for several months.  When i finally started running in earnest, i couldn't really ramp up the mileage due to my busy work schedule.  Sure, i did a couple of 5Ks, a 10K, and a half-marathon, but training for those didn't come close to the physical/mental/logistical rigors required by the full 26.2.  Since i've often found that the best way to do something is to just throw my hat over the fence, i signed up for the California International Marathon (CIM) and resolved to get shipshape for that.

I scrambled to find time to run.  Eventually, i was able to find a rhythm which had some semblance of a marathon training schedule.  It was, unfortunately, half-assed at best.  Some weeks, i would get my mileage up to 40 miles... but then a week later, i would only do twenty.  There were no hill workouts, no speedwork, and no tempo runs.  Since on any given day, i was lucky to even get any sort of run in, each run was just a slow drive to a prescribed mileage.  My lack of conditioning was put on full display when i ran the Run the Parkway for my longest long run before the big race: the 20-miler.  Although i did finish, i subsequently developed a debilitating ache in my left knee.  I realized then that there was no way i'd be able to keep training and stay healthy enough to do 26.2 in the remaining weeks leading up to the CIM.

Crestfallen, i deferred my entry to the following year and resolved to just do "40 at 41," meaning, to do the marathon AFTER my 41st birthday.  Call me an idiot, but i really wanted to do the forty when i was literally forty years old.  In this, i had failed.

Two weeks after Run the Parkway, i laced up and gingerly ran 4 miles on the treadmill.  Surprisingly, i did it pain-free.  From there, i slowly built back up to a 13-miler, and remained pain-free.  My hope renewed, i signed up for Phoenix (held a month before my 41st birthday) and joyfully went back to my previous regimen.

Disaster struck AGAIN after my next 20-miler: the exact same pain in the exact same knee.  Desperate to not give up on my dream a second time, i started researching some quick fixes: strengthening exercises, compression sleeves, voodoo magic, etc.  No go.

The big breakthrough was my discovery of the run-walk-run method by Jeff Galloway.  More details can found on his website and book; however, what really piqued my interest is that - on the average - people who've applied his method have reportedly gotten faster marathon times, and some have even qualified for Boston.  Personally, i had always pooh-poohed run-walkers as not being "real" runners.  But, desperate for relief, i latched on to it as my only hope.  

So, three days after my latest disastrous 20-miler, i ran-walked 10 miles using a 3:1 minute ratio... and was completely pain free.  I did it again two days later, with the exact same results.  Reinvigorated, i continued on my previous program, mixing in some 1 minute walk breaks at the appropriate intervals.  Ultimately, i ran-walked the full marathon, running for 3 minutes and walking for 1 minute, from start to end. 

The race course has already been covered elsewhere, in a more detailed and eloquent fashion than i ever could.  Personally, i thought it was great.  Except for the hilly terrain extending from mile 4-6, it was mostly downhill and easy to run.  The weather cooperated, too: it was 32 degrees at the starting line at Usery Pass, but a perfect 55 at the end.  With a little over 2200 people running, it wasn't crowded at all.  The aid stations and toilets seemed to be spaced out appropriately, or at least i never felt that there weren't enough.

Interestingly, even though my GPS watch kept time - buzzing at the appropriate intervals - needing to maintain the 3:1 minute ratio kept me very mindful of my running.  Every time i completed a 3-minute interval, i would reassess my physical needs: was i going too fast or slow?  Did i need to drink some water, eat a gel, hit a porta-potty, adjust some article of equipment, etc.?  Despite being repetitive, it never felt tedious, because i was actively managing myself throughout the race.  It actually kept me "in the game," mentally.  Also, the regular walk breaks kept me rested well enough that i PASSED people during the last 6 miles of the race.  Believe me, there are few things that are more motivating than the savage schadenfreude of overtaking someone half your age who is crying due to fatigue.  In fact, at around the same distance where i "hit the wall" in my first marathon (22 miles), i actually picked up the pace.  And in the final half-mile... i ran.  Not a close-to-death, drag-myself-over-the-finish-line, puke-my-guts-out-from-exhaustion final push, but a decent pick-up-the-pace-i've-still-got-enough-in-the-tank RUN!

Aaayyyy!

In the end, even though i wasn't completely happy with the result... i was thoroughly satisfied.

My specific goals for the race were:

1. to finish
2. strong and
3. injury free,
4. hopefully under 5 hours, but
5. preferably under 4:30.

In the final analysis, i hit three out of five targets, and only barely missed my primary time goal.  The most important thing (as Gianina has pointed out repeatedly) is that i stayed HEALTHY.  Not being a natural athlete, i am very injury-prone.  I've belatedly realized that irrationally going all-out for some self-imposed time goal regardless of the physical consequences is not a viable long-term strategy.  With the application of the run-walk-run method, i really think i can keep doing this, and potentially get even faster in future races.  I'd be lying if i said that i didn't want to run the whole 26.2 continuously, but i have come to terms with the fact that there is no shame in run-walking.  Really, anyone who says that one should only "run" a full marathon should be ready to beat the guy who walked a marathon in 3:10:34.

So that's that.  In spite of being middle-aged and overweight... Chong is back.  Now when somebody asks me what my hobby is, i can sincerely say "i run marathons," - stressing the plural - because i've done more than one.  Next stop, New York.  Maybe i can take a stab at a new PR.

So hungry.

Not hungry enough to not pose for a picture.