5:07:42 (Bad)

Last weekend, i completed the California International Marathon in 5:07:42.

I am extremely unhappy with my time and feel like a catastrophic failure.  

This being my second running of the CIM, i should have done better.  In fact, i feel that i was better prepared overall: in contrast to all my other races, i was familiar with the course; in terms of training, i hit all my essential workouts and had a decent weekly mileage that topped out at 52 miles.  Everything was going according to plan.  I was completely set up for success... 

...but utterly failed to execute.  

After wallowing in self-pity for a bit, i beat the dead horse to a pulp to try and understand my poor performance.  I've concluded that it was due to dehydration.  

In the days leading up to the race, the weather forecast was unfavorable, with the possibility of precipitation predicted to be somewhere between 50 and 70%.  Not being a fan of running in the rain (i've had a few bad experiences in the past), i planned my attire accordingly, bringing along a rain jacket and waterproof socks.  Although i've never run a significant distance in that getup, it seemed like a good idea.  Even though everyone gets wet from sweat when running, i intensely dislike the clammy feeling of a wet shirt, and abhor running in squishy waterlogged socks. 

Waterproof jacket, check.  Waterproof socks, check.

So the morning of the race comes around, and basically everyone is pleasantly surprised that it's dry.  Then the gun went off and we started running.  After a mile or so, i heard a few people commenting in one way or another that it was great running weather.  In retrospect, that should have immediately tipped me off that i was going to be in trouble, because i personally felt that it was warmer than advertised.

The truth is that my body had already dropped me some clues that i was too dense to notice.  Just a few run-walk-run cycles in, i already felt a little sweaty inside my jacket.  I thought that it wasn't a big deal, that maybe my jacket merely wasn't as "breathable" as it was touted to be.  But it was really a sign that i had overdressed for the occasion.  I only realized this after around 6 miles, which is when i decided to peel my jacket off.  Once the cool air hit my torso, i felt a sense of relief... i had unknowingly been uncomfortably warm and excessively sweating up to that point.  

Looked warm, felt warmer. 

The premature dehydration was only one factor.  I've gotten through a hot and humid race before.  My real point-of-failure was in not keeping up with the fluid losses.  Around 3 miles in, i was already a little thirsty.  A bad sign, since i usually drink enough to keep ahead of the sensation.  Despite this, i obstinately kept to my usual hydration strategy of 1 sip/chug per mile.  Frankly, i probably even sipped a little less than usual, since the moisture in my jacket made me feel clammy and fooled me into thinking i was running cooler than i actually was.  At the end of the race, i finished with a not-insignificant amount of water still left over in my Camelbak, whereas it would normally have been bone-dry by mile 24.  

TL;DR: i sweated too much but didn't drink nearly enough. 

On reflection (and reviewing my splits), i was able to soldier through all of this until the halfway point.  Then my pace dropped by up to 30 seconds per mile despite trying to keep the intensity up.  

At around mile 16, i felt the beginning of a cramp in my left thigh but decided to "trust my training," attempt a negative split, and continue trying to make up for lost time (my target finish was around 4:45).  At around mile 21 (35K mark, on the official splits), it all unraveled as my left leg seized up and i stumbled to the side of the course.  I suddenly felt so lightheaded that i just wanted to sit down, but also realized that if i did that, there would be no standing back up.  So i gutted through the next five miles - running when able and walking when the cramps started again... and slowly jogged across the finish line.    

Trudging slowly to the finish. My expression reflects my self-disgust.

Such a bad race.  It was my tenth marathon, too.  An ignominious showing for what should have been a glorious event.  

Oh well.  

Lesson for the next time: if running with a jacket (which i am definitely not accustomed to), hydrate as if it's a warm race and don't push the pace.  At the minimum - pay closer attention to my body's cues and adjust accordingly. I've been able to do this in the past, but for some reason the weather forecast just spooked me and locked me in to a "cold and wet" mindset.  

No significant race notes, since i've covered the course in detail before.  A side note about the porta-potties - the line gets thinner the farther one goes from the starting line, and they virtually evaporate a minute before the gun goes off.  A slowpoke like me could literally wait until the gun goes off to use one, and still start running with the 4:30 pace group.  

Moseyed on over after using a porta-potty, around 7 minutes after the gun went off.

I am definitely going to run this again for redemption.  

Eating my "free" burrito after the race.

In the shadow of the Capitol building.

Next up, Tokyo.

Japanese food for lunch after the race.  Foreshadowing the next marathon.

4:51:21 (AKA El Cheapo Runs Marathons, Too)

This past weekend, i ran the California International Marathon with a finishing time of 4:51:21.

Finisher certificate.

Granular results.

The time is almost 9 minutes faster than my most recent marathon at New York.  On one hand i'm pleased, because after three tries - i finally broke 5 hours.  On the other i'm not pleased at all, because i thought/expected that i could come in much faster in "the fastest course in the West," maybe even somewhere in the vicinity of my PR.  Oh well.  I just console myself with the thought that i successfully did "back-to-back" marathons.  After all, it's been less than a month since i ran New York.

As far as running another marathon this close to the previous one, it was probably (most definitely) a bad idea.  But i had already paid over a hundred bucks for the CIM entry in 2017, plus another fifty to defer to 2018, and El Cheapo refused to LOSE money by forfeiting outright, or (God forbid!) fork over even MORE money for another deferral.  So: i asked my friend Dr. Google how to run a marathon just three weeks after finishing one... and did it.  I guess if a non-athlete like me is going to push the envelope like that, i shouldn't complain about my finishing time.  (I realize that - in the grand scheme of things - this isn't even REALLY back-to-back, not in the way the triple 7 quest is.  But i am a mere mortal.)

At the finish, with a view of the California State Capitol Building right behind me.  Nostrils flared.

Some race notes:

1.  The weather was perfect.  I had some concerns about race conditions, given the recent Camp Fire followed by stormy weather, but it was pretty nice on the day of the race itself, starting out at crisp 37 degrees and ending at around 53.

Heading off to the race, with me decked out in my throwaway sweater and sweatpants.

2.  My legs feel a lot better this time around compared to previous races.  Not much trouble climbing up and down stairs on the day after.  Unfortunately, in the first 24 hours post-race, there was the issue of a nagging ache at the top of both feet that i literally had never felt before.  The only thing i did different at the CIM was that i consciously tried to keep my strike rate (cadence) high.  My Garmin says that i successful pulled this off, with a strike rate of around 174-185 spm (target of 180) during my running intervals.  Maybe my feet aren't used to that high of a turnover.  In hindsight, i should NOT have run the race that way, because it wasn't the way i trained.  Something to fix for the next training cycle.

3.  Billing CIM as "the fastest course in the West" with a net elevation loss sets up the expectation that it's all downhill.  IT IS NOT.  In fact, the first half seemed to be composed of a never-ending series of rolling hills.  There is one nice downhill stretch somewhere between miles 9-10, which unfortunately ends up in a fairly steep uphill climb.  It only seemed to (relatively) flatten out around mile 14 or so.

Enjoying one of the downhills.

4.  The expo wasn't really anything to write home about.  However, similar to New York (perhaps others, too), there was a big wall with the runners' names.  I had to squint to find myself with the tiny font that they used, but i was there.

That's me!

5.  A shade under 8000 is a great amount of runners.  Enough people to make it feel like a "real" event, but not enough that you constantly bump into people.

At the start.  That's about half the field ahead of me.  A lot, but not too much.

6.  The race felt highly organized from start to finish.  I was happy that one could just sit in the (relatively) warm bus up until the start of the race, negating the need to pay for a "VIP" (or similar) tent.  Porta-potties were aplenty at the starting line, and it only took me about  10 minutes to use one.  I felt very secure with the AMR bikers and cops on motorcycles constantly going back and forth, watching over the runners.  I actually liked this race so much that i think i'll do it again next year.  Perhaps i'll sign up soon... El Cheapo is definitely tempted by the early sign-up discount.  

7.  I don't know if i just bonked early, but i could not for the life of me muster enough strength to do a negative split.  This is an ongoing issue, and can probably only be fixed by adding some speed to the end of my long runs.  At least 700 people who started out in front of me seemed to slow down as well, based on this chart.  I finished the first 5K in 6826th place, and finished the whole shebang in 6112th. Still an achievement, hahaha. 

Splits data.

8.  I sometimes wonder if the run-walk-run method is holding me back from being a fast runner.  But every time i'm tempted to chuck it and just run continuously, i remind myself how many injuries i picked up in previous years.  Contrast that with my performance this year, when i ran 3 marathons with NO INJURIES and minimal aches and pains.  Pun intended: it's a marathon, not a sprint.  If i can keep running into the next several decades with no injuries, i'll be happy to be a slowpoke.  I'm already too old to go out in a blaze of glory, anyway.  Truthfully though, i feel that if i stay the course and train consistently, i'll continue to get better/faster anyway.  Or so i keep telling myself. 

So that's it, my third and final marathon for 2018 in the books.  Next stop, Big Sur.

Running to the finish.

Went for some Chinese food immediately following the race.  Tastier than the medal, to be sure.