<I haven't read any of the ng since Saturday afternoon, but saw lance's
title and figured I'd steal it for my post. Congrats to lance for, er,
gutting it out.>
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Executive summary: http://tinypic.com/fdf33l.jpg
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Deena Not Found
Beginning of the end was the NYCM expo, which is mandatory - you swap
the card they've mailed you for your bib there. Couldn't go Thursday:
work emergency kept me from leaving. Friday I picked up my number, but
taper madness caused me to misread the schedule and miss meeting Deena.
Dumbass Nutritional Faux_pas
Taper madness also made me forget to sign up for the 3:15 pace group on
Friday. So with some trepidation ("but everyone says I'm supposed to
stay off my feet the day before... and I'm not sure if I really get any
benefit from signing up" [nope]) I returned to the expo Saturday. On
an empty stomach and not as well hydrated as I ought to be. Oh how
convenient, they've got free samples of all kinds of Power-this and
Gu-that, all of it straight from the chemistry lab.
Diarrhea's Not Funny
Well sure it's normally freakin' hee-larious, hence the phrase "[censored]
and giggles". But less so the night before a marathon and the morning
of. I had known damn well, "don't try anything new" and yada yada.
Damn that taper madness!
Dream Notice from the Fox
In retrospect the fox dream would have been well-taken as a warning:
http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/fox.htm - "A fox totem also
teaches good eating habits; the fox eats small amounts frequently which
medicine is now telling us is better for our health. But fox people
already knew this."
http://www.starfriends.com/NSFox.htm talks of the need for "patience,
vigilance, discernment and caution" to avoid traps.
Drained of Necessary Forces
As the astute reader may have noticed, I'd been out-of-my-mind
hyperactive, bursting with energy for days. All of it positive, no
real worries or fears. Not that I think I grossly underestimated the
distance or course either; just felt very positive about my training
and my fitness, ready to get it on. But starting around dinnertime -
couple hours after throwing back various isotopes of who knows what at
the expo - that energy started to drain away. About the same time my
toilet visits increased in frequency.
Dreary Nervous Flatness
That evening and morning I had just about convinced myself that I
wasn't _flat_ per se, I was _calm_, and that my body was wiser than my
mind and knew it was time to relax and to conserve all its energy for
the race. Sleeping 7.5 hours no problem and waking up feeling like
today was nothing too special - I had of late, for the first time in my
adult life, been keenly reconnected to the feeling of being a young
child bursting at the seams with Christmas Eve anticipation - was a
bit worrisome but I tried to spin it all postive, best I could.
OK, let's just get this, er, finished all right?
OK.
So I take half an Immodium at the house (my father in law's, on Staten
Island, less than a mile from the start). Then another half. Then
another half while relaxing just a little too well before the race.
That did holding everything in all day. Immodium *works*, dammit, in
an emphatic manner its predecessors Pepto Bismol and Kaopectate never
did.
All morning, my pee was pretty darn yellow whereas it's normally always
quite clear except maybe just after morning vitamins. I tried to
balance drinking enough water before and during the race, with the
limited rate at which it seemed to drain from my gut, and how that made
me feel a bit queasy. Had a couple Succeed caps, took one half hour
before the start, another around 10 miles. They clearly helped but at
some point I felt dry-mouth-thirsty (good, the salt's working) but had
difficulty getting motivated to dump more liquid into the ol' gut which
kept saying "enough, enough already".
Everything else went perfect. I was able to line up just a few rows
back of the 3:15 pace group in the chaotic start area, reached the
starting mats only :40 or so behind the gun, ran my first mile nice and
easy in 8:45 and slowly reeled in the 7:25/mi pace group until they
were in sight around 6 miles. I felt good and pretty effortless at the
pace, for a while, and remain convinced I'm basically in 3:15 shape on
this course.
Started to get much tougher around the halfway point. I think I may
have hit the wall - bonked - with half the race in front of me. Body
couldn't pull nutrition from the last few meals and snacks I had so, I
dunno, maybe it made some withdrawals from rather than deposits into my
glycogen account in the last 18 hours. Or maybe that's not exactly
what happened. I really just know enough physiology terms to make
wild, ignorant speculation.
What did happen was, somewhere around mile 13 +/- it was rather
suddenly taking a whole lot more effort to maintain 7:25-ish pace, and
legs gave a few twinges which felt like warnings of cramps to come.
Then going up the Queensboro Bridge I slowed down quite a bit for the
uphill, but even at this relative crawl my breathing was really
labored. And then something in my tummy was in a fairly sharp,
cramping pain.
Diaphragm? Bladder? Intestines? Eventually I settled on the latter
especially after a pee stop didn't help. I couldn't run through this
pain, and the locomotion it allowed me was pretty much 1 part ~12:00
pace slow jog to 3 parts slow walk. Kept that up as best I could for
most of the bridge's up, its down, and two and half miles of 1st Ave
before deciding definitively to bail at 112th St (mile 18.5 or so. I
think). Actually I decided a mile and a half earlier but figured I'd
wait until I got to my wife, whom I never saw because, it turned out,
she couldn't get to the east side of the street as we had agreed.
In the end I saw no reason to walk the last 8 miles, maybe with a bit
of slow jogging. I realize many people feel it's crucial to avoid a
DNF no matter what; but - at least for a race this distance or more -
I'm not one of 'em. I was racing this race to race (or time trial,
y'all know what I meant), not to prove I could move 26 miles in one
day, certainly not if the last 13 took 3 hours.
And maybe bailing when I did allows me to take advantage of this peak
fitness I think I've got in another race or two this next month before
it withers away. Maybe I'll duel #666 in the Stockade-athon after
all... would it be insane to think of giving Philly's 42k a try in two
weeks or Seattle's in three? Or admit that I'm so old and slow it's
time to move on to ultras, and give the Knickerbocker 60k a shot in 3
weeks? I'll give it more thought when I'm more lucid, after a nap. I
just bet a few folks here will have advice too.
So, Pendejo remains a one-time super-4:00:00 marathon finisher. And my
pride certainly wenteth before my fall, and the race I had trained for
and fixated on so completely for so long went nothing like the script.
Now accepting "I told you so's" and other insults. Keep 'em colorful!
Pendejo, specializing in marathon disasters