Pensacola Marathon - 2/15/09
We pulled into the parking lot of Running Wild- the event host - yesterday about 3:45 PM to pick up our race packet. I asked the lady giving out the stuff, "is this course pretty flat?" She looked up at me and matter-of-factly said, "no". Ugh oh. Hell, we could have done Austin if we wanted hilly. So when we left the very nice running store with very friendly folks and free-sandwiches and beer for runners, we drove the course. No, it was not flat. The full marathon course consists of doing the 1/2 course twice so any hill we encountered we'd have to run twice. There was a monster hill at about mile 7, which meant we'd hit it again at about mile 21. It was every bit as tall as Heartbreak Hill and steeper, and no descent at the top. Actually another gradual incline into the neighborhood. There was also a shorter hill just after mile one that we didn't encounter on our drive and a more gradual mile long incline between three and four that we didn't notice in the car but did on the course. But it wasn't all bad. There were some nice descents deep into the loop where you needed them. So we grabbed dinner, hit a Wal-Mart for some things we forgot then hit the hay the earliest I've ever been able to go to sleep the night before a race - 8:15!
We got up at 4:30 and checked the weather. 55 degrees and light rain. It drizzled all the way until just before the start then miraculously stopped for the entire duration of our race, though it began to drizzle again just after we finished. The temperature stayed at 60 or below for the full race so it was not a factor, nor was there enough wind to be an issue.
We blasted the first couple of miles at sub 7 just out of adrenaline, not knowing the course, a small field, etc. But then settled into a nice 7:10ish pace. Yeah, we hit 10 miles in 1:10:18, a 7:02 pace, but almost all of that was due to the first two fast miles. Mile 3-10 was a 7:07 average. We hit the 1/2 at 1:32:43, which was a little faster than plan, but again, if you take out the first two miles we were doing a 7:09 pace for 3-13.1. We maintained this relatively flat pace through 20 miles, even though the course itself was not flat. That was the thing I realized yesterday when driving it. My plan of running even splits throughout was out the window because of the varied elevation. We had to make hay where we could.
Even though we hit 20 miles at 2:23:18, our mile 20 had been a 7:18 and I could tell Brian was about to run out of gas, and we still had the monster hill to climb. I don't remember if the hill was at the end of mile 21 or early in mile 22 but both miles were around 8 minutes flat and I was becoming concerned. I still had no idea though how bad Brian was about to drop off. I began having to stop and turn around to encourage him on but there was no fire on his face, only exhaustion and defeat. Mile 23 was awful. I got to the mile marker and simply stopped to wait for Brian to come through with a 9:47. I was so disappointed in knowing that the 3:10 was lost that I snapped, "nice nine minute mile Brian!". I shouldn't have said it but I was just trying to appeal to his pride if nothing else. This was a Brian I didn't know - I've seen him run lots of miles of 6 something, even ran the final two miles of an 18 mile run in about a 6:15 pace, but never a nine something pace. Mile 24 was an 8:31, so better, but I was really having to talk to him and encourage him where I could. We crossed over a fairly steep overpass and I was very proud of Brian that he jogged the entire way up, never walking. But he just didn't have anything left and even though I was telling him things like, "just two miles to go, if we can do that in 16 minutes we'll have a finishing time of X", it didn't matter. Here I was feeling great and having to watch one of my best buddies suffer, with me powerless to do anything about it. I even told him to get on my back at one point.
I rode him pretty hard those last few miles, coming right to the edge of going too far, but I just wanted it so bad for him and didn't know what else to do. At one point he felt cramps and wanted to stop and stretch but I told him to lengthen his stride and see if he could get a stretch while running. That worked and kepted him from stopping. At another point, just past 23, he told me he thought he was going to throw up and I told him to be my guest and that maybe that would help. But he didn't. Late in the race he told me something that made me feel appreciated - "just don't leave me Lance". I vowed that I wouldn't, though I never planned to from the beginning.
With a mile or so to go a guy passed us who looked to be near my age and Brian told me to go get him and not potentially lose a spot in my age group. I could have dropped the guy like 3rd period calculus with what I had left in the tank but what would that have accomplished? That guy was battling his own demons I'm sure and didn't deserve for me to jump in and take him down, nor did Brian need to try to finish the final mile alone. We also got passed by the 2nd overall female with about 3/4 of a mile to go but she was running strong and I could tell she was in her happy place. I shouted words of encouragement to her as well as the guy who passed us, relishing my coaching role.
At mile 26 we were still at 3:16 so I told Brian that if we could just kick some for the final .2 we could come in under 3:18, but again, his tank was empty. We finished together with a 3:18:15. Not our goal, not by a long-shot but there are several positives to take away:
-Though we had a big positive split, it was not nearly as big as the one Brian had at Houston this year. We held it together well through 20 miles and if it wouldn't have been for that damned hill could have probably gotten another couple of 7:30s - who knows?
-Brian used gel for the first time and realized that it helps.
-Brian took a couple of Tylenol at about mile 14 (at my instruction) and realized that a little something like that can take the edge off the leg pain late in the race, even if it's partially psychological.
-Brian shaved a huge amount off of his PR, which was near 3:31.
-Brian knows that getting the number you want requires enduring pain and refusing to give in. That course was not going to allow us to get the 3:10 today so Brian doesn't regret that part of it, but he does regret allowing himself to turn 9+minute miles at 23, 25, and 26. I drove the point home a few times on the way home, that you just cannot allow yourself to fall apart like that. 8 minute miles? Maybe a couple. 9:40 miles, no. Can't allow it. You give back in one mile what it took you ten miles to accumulate. You can bleed a little but you can't hemmorage.
I'm proud of the work we put in this morning and glad that I could help Brian get a big PR. Brian, it was more you than you realize. You left it all out there and I'm proud of you. Good job. We'll get 'em next time.
We got up at 4:30 and checked the weather. 55 degrees and light rain. It drizzled all the way until just before the start then miraculously stopped for the entire duration of our race, though it began to drizzle again just after we finished. The temperature stayed at 60 or below for the full race so it was not a factor, nor was there enough wind to be an issue.
We blasted the first couple of miles at sub 7 just out of adrenaline, not knowing the course, a small field, etc. But then settled into a nice 7:10ish pace. Yeah, we hit 10 miles in 1:10:18, a 7:02 pace, but almost all of that was due to the first two fast miles. Mile 3-10 was a 7:07 average. We hit the 1/2 at 1:32:43, which was a little faster than plan, but again, if you take out the first two miles we were doing a 7:09 pace for 3-13.1. We maintained this relatively flat pace through 20 miles, even though the course itself was not flat. That was the thing I realized yesterday when driving it. My plan of running even splits throughout was out the window because of the varied elevation. We had to make hay where we could.
Even though we hit 20 miles at 2:23:18, our mile 20 had been a 7:18 and I could tell Brian was about to run out of gas, and we still had the monster hill to climb. I don't remember if the hill was at the end of mile 21 or early in mile 22 but both miles were around 8 minutes flat and I was becoming concerned. I still had no idea though how bad Brian was about to drop off. I began having to stop and turn around to encourage him on but there was no fire on his face, only exhaustion and defeat. Mile 23 was awful. I got to the mile marker and simply stopped to wait for Brian to come through with a 9:47. I was so disappointed in knowing that the 3:10 was lost that I snapped, "nice nine minute mile Brian!". I shouldn't have said it but I was just trying to appeal to his pride if nothing else. This was a Brian I didn't know - I've seen him run lots of miles of 6 something, even ran the final two miles of an 18 mile run in about a 6:15 pace, but never a nine something pace. Mile 24 was an 8:31, so better, but I was really having to talk to him and encourage him where I could. We crossed over a fairly steep overpass and I was very proud of Brian that he jogged the entire way up, never walking. But he just didn't have anything left and even though I was telling him things like, "just two miles to go, if we can do that in 16 minutes we'll have a finishing time of X", it didn't matter. Here I was feeling great and having to watch one of my best buddies suffer, with me powerless to do anything about it. I even told him to get on my back at one point.
I rode him pretty hard those last few miles, coming right to the edge of going too far, but I just wanted it so bad for him and didn't know what else to do. At one point he felt cramps and wanted to stop and stretch but I told him to lengthen his stride and see if he could get a stretch while running. That worked and kepted him from stopping. At another point, just past 23, he told me he thought he was going to throw up and I told him to be my guest and that maybe that would help. But he didn't. Late in the race he told me something that made me feel appreciated - "just don't leave me Lance". I vowed that I wouldn't, though I never planned to from the beginning.
With a mile or so to go a guy passed us who looked to be near my age and Brian told me to go get him and not potentially lose a spot in my age group. I could have dropped the guy like 3rd period calculus with what I had left in the tank but what would that have accomplished? That guy was battling his own demons I'm sure and didn't deserve for me to jump in and take him down, nor did Brian need to try to finish the final mile alone. We also got passed by the 2nd overall female with about 3/4 of a mile to go but she was running strong and I could tell she was in her happy place. I shouted words of encouragement to her as well as the guy who passed us, relishing my coaching role.
At mile 26 we were still at 3:16 so I told Brian that if we could just kick some for the final .2 we could come in under 3:18, but again, his tank was empty. We finished together with a 3:18:15. Not our goal, not by a long-shot but there are several positives to take away:
-Though we had a big positive split, it was not nearly as big as the one Brian had at Houston this year. We held it together well through 20 miles and if it wouldn't have been for that damned hill could have probably gotten another couple of 7:30s - who knows?
-Brian used gel for the first time and realized that it helps.
-Brian took a couple of Tylenol at about mile 14 (at my instruction) and realized that a little something like that can take the edge off the leg pain late in the race, even if it's partially psychological.
-Brian shaved a huge amount off of his PR, which was near 3:31.
-Brian knows that getting the number you want requires enduring pain and refusing to give in. That course was not going to allow us to get the 3:10 today so Brian doesn't regret that part of it, but he does regret allowing himself to turn 9+minute miles at 23, 25, and 26. I drove the point home a few times on the way home, that you just cannot allow yourself to fall apart like that. 8 minute miles? Maybe a couple. 9:40 miles, no. Can't allow it. You give back in one mile what it took you ten miles to accumulate. You can bleed a little but you can't hemmorage.
I'm proud of the work we put in this morning and glad that I could help Brian get a big PR. Brian, it was more you than you realize. You left it all out there and I'm proud of you. Good job. We'll get 'em next time.
posted by Lance Collins at 5:52 PM
9 comments
