Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Philadelphia Marathon: 2:59.50!

Standing at the Starting Line

I really didn't know what to expect when I stepped to the starting line.  5 weeks ago, I crashed and burned on a challenging Baltimore course by going out at an aggressive pace and not having a fail-safe fueling plan.  The end result: I suffered a major left hamstring cramp after 18 miles and had to jog my way in to a disappointing 3:07 finishing time.  I quickly re-grouped and targeted a better performance in Philly.  Problem was, I wasn't exactly sure what mileage to run, what workouts to do, what formula to follow between the two races.  So I kind of winged it, just doing what felt right.

Everything was great until the week of the race.  I woke up to a terrible post-nasal drip/headache/chest cold on Monday.  I slowly improved with each passing day, but I definitely was not feeling my best.  By Friday, everything had subsided but the post-nasal drip, which meant I still couldn't breathe properly, but at least I wasn't achy all over.  Saturday, it became an insatiable desire to cough.  Not what I was hoping for during marathon week.

Because of Baltimore and because of the illness, I wasn't exactly sure what my race strategy should be.  I was torn between sitting behind the 3 hour pace group the entire way, and if I made it to the finish, great - that meant I was a sub-3 hour marathon runner.  Part of me felt like, screw it all, go out and race as hard as you can, and if you blow up again, well, you gave it another shot.  I knew the prudent thing to do was the first option, the reckless thing to do was the second option so instead I married the two options together: I would sit behind the pace group for at least 10 miles and then pick up the pace from there if I felt good.  The important thing is, I decided before the race I WOULD NOT LOOK AT MY WATCH ONCE FOR SPLITS.  I was going to run the entire thing on feel, and when it felt right to make a move, I would make a move.  I have always performed best in competition when I didn't worry about time and I just went out and raced.

So with all this in the back of my mind, I am waiting at the starting line for the horn to sound, and I realize I am completely calm.  Knowing that I was going out conservatively took a lot of the weight off my shoulders.  It also helped that I had some familiar faces to run with for the first part of the race: John Schwab, Mike Gozden, and Oleg Aliferov, three of my MDRP buddies, all standing there with me waiting for our mutual fates.  In all honesty, it felt like I was about to embark on just another long run.  Boy was I wrong.

NOTE: The following split times are approximations from my Garmin.  I didn't check any of these splits throughout the race, only after the fact, so I am not sure how entirely accurate they are.  But I figure they are close enough approximations for narrative purposes with a few seconds plus/minus margin of error.

The Pace Group: Miles 1-8

 Mile 1: 7:03
The horn sounds and I walk my way up to the timing mat, paying close attention to how much time elapses between the horn and when I cross: about 20 seconds.  (I made a mental note just in case this would come into play at the finish - MUCH more on that later.)   The first mile was so congested, all I was concerned with was not running into somebody and falling down.  The 3 hour pace group got lost in a sea of traffic the first half mile or so, but I settled in at the back of the pack just before the first mile split.

Mile 2: 6:45
Mile 3: 6:46

I relaxed as much as possible and was glad to see how comfortable and easy the pace felt immediately (I wasn't sure how the breathing would go with the allergies).  I made some small talk to pass the time, and stayed focused on my fueling plan.  At 5K, I took my first 4 oz of water, which went very smoothly.  Unlike Baltimore, I carried a 20 oz bottle of water on my fuel belt just so I could control the intervals at which I drank and, since it had a nozzle, I could control how much I actually got into my mouth - versus spilling all over myself.

Mile 4: 6:51
Mile 5: 6:49
There were lots of sharp turns the first 5.5 miles or so until we finally got to Chestnut Street and had a long straightaway.  This is also the first area of the course since Mile 1 where the streets are lined with cheering spectators on both sides, which is a nice mental boost.  Oleg and Schwab are still in the 3 hour pace group, while Mike Gozdan has dropped back a little to shoot for his goal of 3:05.

Mile 6: 6:34
To my surprise, I see some of my teammates who ran the NYC marathon - Tom Elliott, Rich Wojnar, Jim Price, and Terry Delaney - off to the side around the 6 mile mark.  They all hooted and hollered as we made our way by.  At this point, I am really psyched, because everything is going according to plan and it just feels so EASY.

At the 10K mark, I take my first Gu with another 4 oz of water.  Again, everything goes down smoothly.  I also ditch my running gloves, as I am definitely warmed up and getting a feel for the race.  I couldn't be writing this script any better.

Mile 7: 6:48
Mile 8: 6:53
We come upon the first stage of the hilly section of the course, which has a few minor climbs in the University District.  I have made my way up the front of the 3 hour pace group, where I am sitting behind the lead pacer.  I can feel the pace starting to slow down and I am feeling REALLY good.  Despite what I told myself before the race - that I would wait until after the 10 mile mark to make a move - I decide after 8 miles that the time is now.

On My Own and Moving Up: Miles 9-14

Mile 9: 6:40
Mile 10: 6:50
Mile 9 includes the hardest climb of the course - up Lansdowne Ave and winding around a bend for about 1/3 mile.  I made sure to take the tangent, and I was immediately passing a lot of people.  When I got to the top, I told myself to settle down and sit behind a pack for awhile.  I take in a cup of Gatorade from one of the volunteers, and manage to get most of it in my mouth.  When I passed the 10 mile mark, I caught a glimpse of the clock and I knew the math - I was running exactly about what I had hoped for the first 10 miles - approximately a 6:50 average pace.


Mile 11: 6:33
Mile 11 includes the sharpest downhill section of the course, which throws you down onto West River Drive, where you take a sharp U-turn and make your way back to the Art Museum and the Start/Finish area.  At this point, I am focusing on just staying relaxed and finding a comfortable cadence/rhythm.  I pass my NYC marathon friends again (they seem to be navigating to different sections of the course on bikes), and I hear Tom Elliott yell to me, "Stay calm, settle down."  My thoughts exactly.

Mile 12: 6:46
Mile 13: 6:42
Mile 14: 6:38
I run behind some runners who are just doing the half marathon, and they are struggling to the finish while I am comfortably drafting off of them.  At the 20K mark, I take in my second Gu with another 4 oz of water from my bottle - again, everything smoothly.  I can start to hear the massive roar of the crowd that surrounds the Art Museum.  I am really pumped, knowing that when I reach Lloyd Hall I will be just over halfway done, and it feels like I have hardly exerted any real effort.  I have run from Lloyd Hall to Manayunk and back dozens of times on training runs, and I have to do it once more today at "just" marathon pace to call myself a sub 3 hour runner.  I am feeling really pumped.

The Push to Manayunk and the Turnaround: Miles 15-20

Mile 15: 6:40
Mile 16: 6:40
As I am heading out to Manayunk, I notice there is a slight headwind, so I quickly find a couple of runners who I can run with and we take turns drafting off each other.  One of the runners is a tiny young woman named Katie, who would turn out to be my main partner for the next 5 miles.  I start to get warm, and I ditch my arm sleeves.  Trouble is, I lose one of my Gu packs that was tucked under the right sleeve - which means I have only one left.  I don't panic, but I know I will have to reconsider my fueling strategy the rest of the way.  I try to take another 4 oz of Gatorade just after 15 miles (not quite as successfully this time, probably got half of it in me and the other half on me).  When I pass the next aid station, they are handing out Gu packs and I grab one - however, it is a flavor and brand I have never had before.  I decide to keep it, just in case I need it later.  I focus back on the race, and remain calm and relaxed.

Mile 17: 6:34
Mile 18: 6:42
I pass my NYC friends again (man these guys seem to travel fast!) as I pass over the Falls Bridge.  I slap them all a row of high fives as I run by, and I can tell they are really excited for me.  As I make my way to the U-turn on the West River Drive side, I can see another one of my teammates, Colleen Tindall, who is running her first ever marathon and targeting 2:55.  She is only about 15-20 seconds ahead of me, so I plan on slowly catching up to her and having a familiar face to run with for the last 10K.  I also think that maybe I am running faster than I think I am, and could be on pace for a 2:56 or even 2:55.  I cross back over the Falls Bridge and see my NYC friends again.  They see I am catching up to Colleen and running strong, and they really let out a big yell.  I am not sure which one of my friends was the victim, but I am so pumped at this point I run over to the side of the divider and give one of them the biggest smack of a high five ever!  I am totally, totally jazzed at this point - probably the highest moment for me of the race.

Mile 19: 6:38
Mile 20: 6:51

At the 30K mark, I take my last Gu with another 4 oz of water from my bottle.  Again, perfect intake.  I catch Colleen around the 19 mile mark and tell her to try to relax and stay focused, we are going to work together to get to the finish.  I also told her that since we had a slight headwind on the way out, we should have a tailwind on the way back - it will get easier.  She hangs tough until about the 19.5 mile mark, and I can see she is starting to hurt.  I feel really badly for her, because I know what it is like to get that far into a race at a quick pace and then start to fade.  In the back of my mind, I am hoping she hasn't gone out too fast and really jeopardized a great finishing time.  Feeling the pace really starting to dawdle, I make the tough decision to leave a friend on the pursuit of personal glory.  I felt really terrible at the time I made this decision.

My spirits quickly lifted when I saw the Course Clock at the 20 mile mark.  My math told me I just averaged about 6:40 pace for the last 10 miles, and I had but a 10K to go.  2:56-:57 might still be on the table!

The First Signs of Trouble: Miles 21-23

Mile 21: 6:41
Mile 22: 7:02
Mile 23: 7:01

I found the short woman, Katie, who I was running with earlier and latched onto her again for Mile 21.  At this point, we are heading back toward the direction of the finish line, and on the other side of the road you can see the runners who are making their way to the turnaround close to Mile 20.  I see Oleg and Mike both running really well, and I get psyched up again.  I take in another Gatorade (again about only half the cup) and focus on falling into a rhythm with Katie.

In Baltimore, it was just after the 18 mile mark where suddenly I felt like I was shot in the back of my left hamstring and my whole leg started to seize up.  This time it was a very minor tremor, but I felt the onset of the cramp in my left hamstring again around the 35K mark - the time I was due to take my last Gu.  Decision time - do I take a flavor and brand of Gu I have never taken before and risk the chance that it doesn't sit well or that the sugar worsens the cramp?  If I don't take the Gu, will the cramp get worse?  I plug ahead, gingerly, and the cramp seems to subside, but I definitely have the urge to slow down.  I forego the last Gu, throw it to the side of the road and decide to stick with what I know works - Gatorade and water.  I start to hope I have enough and that the cramp doesn't return.

Mile 23 takes place back on Kelly Drive - familiar territory and landmarks.  But I am not used to running it on the far left side of the road, nor with a bunch of much slower runners running at me from the opposite direction.  I also notice that somehow there is quite a strong headwind blowing in our direction - literally, THE WINDS HAVE CHANGED!  I bear down and focus ahead.  I am losing touch with Katie, who is holding strong.  I promised myself I wouldn't look at my watch for splits, that I would race, I would compete.  So I keep looking ahead and keep moving forward.  Just slower and slower by the step.

Holding On For Dear Life: Miles 24-26.2


Mile 24: 7:27
Mile 25: 7:28
Mile 26: 7:51
Last .2: 7:11

The last 5K or so of the race is a fog.  I can remember specific details, but not exactly when or where they happened.  Every 1/2 mile or so, my left hamstring threatens to seize.  I think I try to take a cup of Gatorade or water at some point.  I remember pouring the contents of my own water bottle over my legs and chest, trying to cool myself off as I feel my body starting to overheat - despite headwinds and 50 degree temps.  I try to find someone, anyone to run behind, but it feels like I can't keep up with anybody - everyone seems to be passing me.

I look to the right side of the road at the much slower runners and start to think that even they might be moving faster than me at this point.  I try to stay focused.  I try to not have any negative thoughts.  I came to race as hard as I could and a race is now what I got.  Except it's a race to stay ahead of the 3 hour pace group and a race against the clock and against myself.

Somewhere around Mile 24.5(?) I see Jim Price for the last time.  He tells me there is less than two miles to go, to hang tough and give it everything I got.  I don't hear any cheers for the 3 hour pace group yet, so I know there is still time.  I hit the 25 mile marker and do some quick math.  If I get there by 2:50, I could still run 8:00/mi pace the last 1.2 miles and dip under 3 hours.  Except the clock says 2:50.48, which means I have to run about 7:30/mi pace.  At this point, I know it's going to be really close, but I don't have any more in me - I am going as fast as I can go.

With about 3/4 mile left, the 3 hour pace group catches me.  I valiantly try to stay with them, which lasts for about 10 seconds.  They are pulling away by the second and I know there is still just over a half mile to go in the race.

I can hear the crowd.  I imagine my Mom waiting for me at the finish line.  I imagine my wife and my friends tracking me online and via their cell phones.  I briefly think about the disappointment in Baltimore, and about all the long runs I had with my friends over the summer and early fall.

And some how, for the last 1/4 mile, despite my hamstring threatening with every step, I find another gear.  Not a much faster gear, but a faster gear.  I swing my arms wildly in front me like I am swatting at flies.  My legs are cramping badly but responding to the sensory signals.  I see the face of a friend in the crowd, Mickey Rosati.  He has the look on his face like he is witnessing a slow death in the Roman Coliseum. 

Finally, I see the clock.  2:59.45.  I know I have about 25 seconds before I hit the finish line.  But I also remember it took me 20 seconds to get the starting line after the horn sounded.  I have a brief disappointment that I am not going to have a finish line photo that has the clock showing less than 3 hours.  But when I crossed the line with the clock saying 3:00.10, I knew I had done it.  I held on, just barely.

Post-Race

At first, it doesn't sink in.  I am just so glad I am not running anymore, but now I am stumbling about in the chute.  I find a Mylar blanket.  A nice volunteer places my finisher's medal around my neck.  It feels like it's 10 lbs.  I shuffle my way to the banana and granola bar station and quickly consume two of each.  My strength starts to return.  I find Oleg.  He asked if I did it and I show him my watch, which I remembered to stop shortly after finishing.  My watch says 2:59.53.  He congratulates me and I congratulate him.  He's completed his 4th(!) marathon of the season and in a new PR.

I make my way to the Gear Check stand and get my bag, which has a water bottle in it.  I take a few sips, but I am not really thirsty.  I find a street corner where I can finally sit down and take off my shoes and rest.  One of the NYC guys, Rich Wojnar, finds me and congratulates me.  He shows me his cell phone with the Runner Tracking Update: Casey Coleman Finishing Time 2:59.50.  It finally starts to sink in what I just did.  Rich tells me that no matter what happens in the future, I can say I ran a marathon in less than 3 hours.  And he's right.  I also find out that Collen hung on for a 3:00.31 finish!  I wish I had the chance to congratulate her, because I can't imagine how she held form that well for that long in her FIRST marathon.  But I am exhausted, and after finding my Mom and sister back at the finish line, I head home for recovery.

Looking back, I probably should have waited a bit longer to make my move.  When I got home and looked at the results, I found out that the girl Katie ran 2:58.29.  Most of the 3 hour pace group guys who survived to the finish ran 2:59.10 or so.  I think if everything went perfectly (including not losing my 4th Gu, which would have been nice to have), I probably had about a 2:58.10-2:58.40 in me on that particular day.  But I am in NO WAY disappointed.  I am glad it unfolded the way it did.  I am glad I had to hurt and work hard to EARN my 2:59.50.  I know I gave it everything I had.  And that means everything.



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