Today I ran the New Jersey Marathon, my fourth marathon overall but my first time running a marathon that wasn’t the ING New York City Marathon. It was something I was nervous about. I had no idea how I would respond running the first half of the race through some random Jersey towns instead of across the Verrazano Bridge and Fourth Avenue and the Pulaski Bridge. On the flip side, I knew I would have the sight of the Jersey shoreline for most of the second half of the race. I also barely finished the 2010 NYC Marathon despite setting a personal record in that race (4:04:31), and followed that up by running some awful races, including the worst half marathon of my life by far, in 2011.
I had nothing to worry about. The NJ Marathon was a really fun race, and I killed it. I was better trained than I thought I was, and my decision (made after gunning hard for 4:00 my last marathon and then overexerting myself and staggering through the last eight miles) to not wear a watch for this one was really liberating.
The start was at Monmouth Park, my first time ever at a racetrack. What a far cry from the congestion and chaos of Fort Wadsworth. The indoor facility was open and much of it was deserted. I had the opportunity to go into the grandstand and watch the horses and jockeys go through their practice. I sat with an iPod and just chilled, then made my normal nine thousand trips to the restroom (no lines!) before going to an organized, far less congested start than I’ve been accustomed to. They were playing good music at the starting line, too – Guns ‘n’ Roses and Joan Jett. I needed the bathroom yet again, but tried to ignore it.
The horn finally went off around 8:10, and I quickly got underway. I knew I was running a little too fast at the start, but it really felt comfortable, so I went with it. I later found out I ran the first 10K at an 8:28 pace—almost insane! Much too fast! But again, it just felt natural. The relaxing, backwoods nature of the first two miles eventually started to feel like running on a treadmill, as the same type of scenery just repeated over and over. When we crossed a small bridge and a pretty lake somewhere past the six mile mark and ended up in Long Branch, it was a big relief. The scenery wasn’t that much more inspiring thereafter, but after mile 6 I just felt locked in. I had the same unstoppable-diesel-train feeling I had when I ran a 15K several weeks ago. I told myself to appreciate it now, because I wouldn’t feel that way soon enough.
I finally stopped to answer nature’s call at mile 8, which I cleared just barely over 1:10. I knew Laurie was waiting between mile 10 and 11. My energy started to flag a little for the first time just past mile 10, so it was terrific to see her and get pretzels and homemade peanut butter cups. It is awesome to have a pit crew.
I was somewhat concerned when the gas gauge felt like it was steadily dropping through mile 11. Through most of my long runs in training for this race, I’ve run out of gas around mile 13 and have struggled to keep any semblance of pace thereafter. It was too early to run out of gas!. Shortly after mile 12, which I cleared around 1:46, I ate one of Laurie’s peanut butter cups, and simultaneously there was a cheering section and a band playing. The dead spot passed. I was back, at least temporarily.
It was awesome to see the half marathon mark pass just barely over 1:55. I knew I had the luxury of slowing down ten minutes in the second half of the race and still clearing four hours. I tried not to think about that, though.
From miles 14 to 18, we ran on a road with really high-end houses, just a block from the water. I also started to see the elite runners coming the other way toward the finish. That was another concern of mine for this race. I was worried I’d get despondent seeing the really fast runners killing the course while I struggled. The opposite was true. They pumped me up, at least for awhile.
At mile 16, I felt some soreness above my right knee, a gentle reminder that the human body is not designed for this type of sustained exercise. I tried not to think about it. I cleared mile 17 at 2 hours and 28 minutes.
My energy level went up and down through mile 18, but I knew Asbury Park, one of my favorite places to run, was coming, and there was a section from miles 18-20 on the boardwalk. That was really cool. I passed the Silverball Pinball Museum in Asbury Park and tried to resist the urge to leave the course for awhile and play pinball. Just past mile 19 in Ocean Grove, a loudspeaker was playing “Eye of the Tiger” from the Rocky movies. Awesome.
Mile 20 was way, way cooler than limping down the Willis Avenue Bridge into the Bronx, the traditional 20-mile point of the NYC Marathon. It was literally inside the Asbury Park Convention Hall! I cleared that in 2 hours, 58 minutes and change. I knew I had to get to the 20 mile mark in 3 hours even to even have a chance at a four hour finish. Knowing my stumbles in the last three marathons beyond mile 18, I tried not to think about it. But although I was becoming increasingly tired, particularly mentally, I was still not hitting a wall.
Miles 20-22 were not as painful as in past years. I tried to tell myself repeatedly, “just a 6 mile run now,” “just a 5 mile run.” I cleared 21 at about 3:08. Still, at 22 I was getting pretty sore. All of a sudden, I heard loud singing of a college fight song practically right in my ear. It was the leader of the 3:55 pacing team, who I was standing next to at the start. I resisted the urge to drown out the Scarlet Knights fight song with a loud rendition of “Meet the Mets,” which I settled for quietly singing to myself. I was excited to see the pacing team and tried to keep up with them, an effort I abandoned after half a mile. They were just motoring. I figured if I could just keep them in sight, even if barely, I’d still beat four hours.
Up to mile 23, this was by far the easiest marathon I’ve run. The race had virtually no hills! It still had no hills at the end, but 23 miles is 23 miles, and my body finally decided it was out of gas. Suddenly I noticed, just past the 23 mark, that my breathing was labored. Telling myself I had just a 5K left, I tried to ignore it. But then my right quadriceps, my downfall in the 2010 NYC Marathon, starting barking loudly. Right next to a sign that said, “Don’t stop, people are watching you,” I stopped to walk for a few hundred feet. The woman standing next to the sign indicated me and pointed sternly at the sign. I ate some pretzels and thankfully, the Gatorade station was right where I was praying I could start running again anyway. I downed the Gatorade and the tightness subsided. I started to run, and actually felt okay. Really tired, but okay. The 24 mile mark came and I can hardly remember what it said on the clock, but if I didn’t stop again, I knew I’d probably be in good shape.
The 25 mile mark followed surprisingly quickly thereafter. I was tired, I desperately wanted to stop running, but I wasn’t dying, and my quad was cooperating.
It took forever for the 26 mile mark to come. It always does. My quad started tightening again halfway between 25 and 26, but I ignored it. At 26, somehow, some way, with the clock reading 3:58:26 and knowing I started about two minutes after the clock started (meaning my time was 3:56 something), I started sprinting, hoping I could get in before the clock changed to 4:00 even though I knew I had a sub-four-hour finish anyway. All the time, I was saying, WTF? What the fuck am I doing? My kick lasted a tenth of a mile and I coasted the last tenth of a mile. I saw my parents and Laurie and screamed louder than I thought capable.
It felt so amazing to cross the finish line, even though I’ve done it three times already. It’s really cool when hard work actually pays off.
Some statistics for the race:
My official time was 3:58:45, a personal record by 5 minutes and 46 seconds.
I ran the first half of the race in 1:55:18 and the second half in 2:03:27. That means I ran the second half of the race 8:09 slower than the first half, which is the smallest difference of the four marathons I’ve run and almost 5 minutes better than my last marathon. I still have ZERO clue how people can manage to do a negative split (run the second half faster than the first).
From mile 19 to mile 26.2 my pace was 9:37 per mile, despite being exhausted for much of it, which is almost mind-boggling to me.
You are viewing ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
herb_lehman's journal
