Running as metaphor for life (Baltimore Half Marathon race report)

I began writing this post a week before Election Day. I was so looking forward to the end of what had felt like an endless, nightmarish reality show. I wrote that I was thinking about this election cycle during the Baltimore Half Marathon three weeks earlier. I wrote that I was thinking about how running a race, especially the longer ones, is such an apt metaphor for life--the best aspects of life.

I had time to think about all this, because I was running at a pace that was more than three minutes per mile slower than my normal half marathon pace. I had more time to observe, in more detail, all aspects of the race. Aid stations with volunteers helping runners. Runners encouraging each other on and stopping to give a hand when someone falls down. Everyone, from the fastest to the slowest, following the same rules. Everyone starting from the same start line. How fast one gets to the finish line determined mostly by what one has put into pre-race training. Running a race can't be faked. If only life in general were more like a race.

Then came Tuesday, November 8th.

This is a running blog, of course, and I have only very rarely deviated from that topic. And, I do apologize for the current deviation!  But, this time, it just felt not quite right to write another race report, as if nothing had happened. I felt I had to at least acknowledge that, going forward, things are no longer the same, just as in Naomi Klein's This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. the Climate. There are so many worrisome consequences from November 8th. But, most of all, I am worried for my children and their generation and all future generations. While other consequences--and, I am not at all minimizing their seriousness and immediacy--can probably, sooner or later, be reversed, the consequences of inaction or worse regarding climate change cannot. Physics goes on, regardless of one's politics. The consequences of physics affect everyone, regardless of one's politics. No wall will keep one insulated.

Life goes on, of course, even if changed. How one lives life goes on, even if changed. And, running goes on.

The Baltimore Half is part of the October Baltimore Running Festival that also includes a marathon and a 5K. Back in 2012, I ran the Baltimore Marathon part of this festival, with a rather slow time of 4:45. It was only my third marathon at the time. I have been wanting to re-run this marathon, ever since 2013 or so, when I really started to seriously train. But, schedule-wise, this marathon conflicted with the other fall marathons that I have been running the past few years in trying to BQ.

This year, my daughter and I decided to run the Baltimore Half together, in part because we could take advantage of the luxury of a place to stay the night before the race that was just minutes away from the start line. This was only her third half marathon, so I "paced" her. At a more than three minutes per mile slower pace, I was able to partake in many nice and fun aspects of the race that I normally would have just rushed by, such as high-fiving spectators and dancing to music along the way. :)

The Half Marathon and Marathon runners don't start together. The Half starts at around Mile 13 of the Full, at the northwest corner of Baltimore's Inner Harbor. For the next almost three miles (Miles 1-3 of the Half and Miles 14-16 of the Full), the two race courses are separate. They then merge just before Miles 3 and 16, respectively. The logistics of that merge needs good planning. When I ran the marathon in 2012, the merge occurred right at the corner of Eastern and Linwood Avenues (southeast corner of Patterson Park), with no transitional segment. Basically, the Half runners going east along Eastern Ave. and the Full runners going north along Linwood Ave. did a hard, 90-degree merge, resulting in some "traffic issues." I don't know what year the race organizers made the change, but, this year, there was a fairly long transitional segment, after the initial merge point, that was separated by a porous barrier. The latter allowed the two streams of runners to more gradually and smoothly merge. Kudos to the organizers!

The race course winds through many different parts of Baltimore, from the touristy Inner Harbor area to neighborhoods that tourists usually don't get to see. As I was running through the latter neighborhoods, I was thinking that it would be nice if some of the economic benefits from the city hosting the race could be shared with the various neighborhoods that the course winds through, perhaps in accordance with the percentage of the course that each neighborhood hosts (?). Beyond the more than $12 million that the Baltimore Running Festival has raised, since its beginning 16 years ago, the boost to the local economy over each Festival weekend from the many thousands of runners has also been significant.

My daughter and I had great fun running and finishing the Half together. The weather was near-perfect. Spectator support was nice and loud, along many stretches of the course. Some of that support came with snacks and beer! The volunteers staffing the official aid stations were superb, serving up water, Gatorade, and, at some of the stations, gels, bananas, and donuts (Munchkins). This was the first race I have run where the police was as enthusiastically cheering on the runners as were the spectators. Perhaps, it was an attempt to improve relationships with the public, post-Freddie Gray (?). Regardless, it was really nice to see that. One officer in particular was standing in the middle of the road, high-fiving runners to his left and right!

The last quarter mile was nicely located: Down S. Eutaw St., past the Oriole Park at Camden Yards, and to the finish line on Raven's Walk, just north of the Ravens Stadium. The finishers area was in the parking lots between the two stadiums. Food was typical and plentiful. And, beer! The organization of the finishers area was similar to that of the race in general--well done! My only suggestion for improvement is to move the finish line to inside of Camden Yards. That would be nice--though not likely. :)

The finisher's medal is quite unique, of a Maryland blue crab that opens to a scene of the Inner Harbor waterfront. The process to make the medal, with the pointy details, was quite elaborate, as

can be seen in this page from the race guide.

How has November 8th affected my running? Well, it has made me more energized--and, not just about running.

"You can only read them and weep."

That quote is from an article about the most recent world record set by Ed Whitlock at the Toronto Waterfront Marathon. The author was referring to Whitlock's 22 single-age records, for 5K, half marathon, and marathon. The first part of the quote is "If you are a 60- or 70- or 80-year-old runner, ..." I guess one could respond that way to Whitlock's new record--3:56:38 at age 85--and all his other records. They do seem almost superhuman.

Or, one can read about these records and think, hey, that means the potential is there! It is humanly possible to run a sub-4 at age 85, or a sub-3 at age 74! All those records of Whitlock can either be fascinating statistics but totally unrelated to "regular" runners, or powerful motivation pulling one forward to test what a human body--what a specific human body--can do. How far into one's life can the adaptation curve be kept above the aging curve?

In the article, there's a comparison of the marathon time/5K time ratio between Galen Rupp and Whitlock. For Rupp, his bronze finish time at the Rio Olympics of 2:10:05 and his best 2016 5K finish of 13:21 result in a ratio of 9.78. For Whitlock, the two finish times of 3:56:38 and 24:04 result in a ratio of 9.82. What this ratio indicates is how well one maintains pace as distance increases from 5K to marathon. So, despite the 55-year difference in age, Whitlock maintains pace nearly as well as does Rupp. Me? My best marathon time this year was 3:55:00 (BQ run at Pocono this past May) and best 5K was 24:53, for a ratio of 9.44. Now, I ran this 5K during the post-Pocono recovery period, so the time was relatively slow, resulting in the relatively low ratio. If I use my 5K PR of 22:54 (2013), then the ratio becomes 10.26. My current potential marathon time, based on one of those race time predictors, is about 13 minutes faster than my PR (BQ), or 3:42:00. The following chart shows my predicted vs. actual times for five distances, based on my half marathon PR time. The predicted times are quite close to actual times, for all distances except the marathon. I regard this 13-minute potential as realistically realizable. I just haven't quite figured out what adjustments I need to make, to close this gap between predicted and actual marathon times. Anyway, if I use the predicted time of 3:42:00 with the 5K time of 22:54, then the ratio becomes 9.83, comparable to those of Rupp and Whitlock.

The bottom line to all this? Age really is just a number!

Regaining lost fitness and planning for Harrisburg

In my post on recovering from that July heel injury, I'd noted that the lost fitness over the month-long layoff was slowly being regained. Here's an update and what it tells me on how to plan for the upcoming Harrisburg Marathon. The following pace chart is of the four post-recovery long runs (i.e., 11 miles or longer) so far and, for comparison, of the April 10th 19-mile run. The pace for the latter is at about my current BQ pace of 8:58.

Overall, I'm encouraged by the rate of increase in pace, reflecting a steady improvement in fitness over the four runs of increasing distance. The pace has improved (10:00, 9:53, 9:39, 9:32), even as the distance increased (12, 15, 17, 18 miles, respectively). I ran by effort, which I tried to keep the same from run to run. So, the pace became faster, not because I was pushing harder, but because I was regaining my fitness. The other factor was the walks I took for water and fuel (dates or gel). The distance of these walks decreased over the four runs, from 0.15-0.20 mile to 0.10 mile to, for the last two runs, 0.05-0.07 mile. These walks were taken at just before 5, 10, and 15 miles (except for September 25, which was just before Mile 14). For the April 10th run, water and dates were taken on the run at Miles 5 and 10.

The key to what I think has been, thus far, a fairly successful post-recovery training is the slow and careful increase in mileage and effort. Even though the estimated 10% decrease in fitness after a month-long layoff seems low, at least for me, the rate of improvement in post-recovery fitness has been quicker than I'd anticipated. The adaptation curve is still staying above the aging curve! :)

Looking ahead, next week is a cutback week. The long run should be 19 miles, according to my training plan. Instead, I'll be running the Baltimore Half, as a training run. Then, for the following weekend, I'll do a final long run of 20 miles. If the trend in pace improvement continues, I should be at ~9:20, before starting the three-week taper.

For Harrisburg, a 9:20 pace would be ~4:05. That would be five minutes faster than my BQ time for Boston 2018 (4:10), which, because I'll be in the next age group, is 15 minutes slower than my current BQ of 3:55. I had been aiming for 3:50 or 20 minutes faster than the 2018 BQ. But, I'll be quite happy with a 4:05, given my injury-affected training cycle; though, I think a sub-4 is still possible. On any given Sunday ... :)

From one moment to the next ...

From despair to ... hey, it's gone! That often seems to be the case, in recovering from an injury. As the period of forced layoff gets longer and longer, one's thoughts get darker and darker, as in what if I can't ever run again!!!

Then, one day, just like that, it's gone!

That's more or less what happened in my recovery from that heel injury 10 weeks ago. I had to stay off the road for four whole weeks, the longest such period since I began to "seriously" train six some years ago. What helped with the healing was this foot massage wooden roller. More on this later.

After a four-week layoff and mindful of the need to be patient in resuming training, I've been very careful in slowly increasing mileage, over the subsequent six weeks: 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 4, 6, 6.5, 7, 3 (5K race), 4, 8, 4, 5 (8K race), 12, 4, 6, 4, 15 (last Sunday), generally skipping a day in between runs. The 5K and 8K races were two of several that my kids and I run together each year, kind of a family tradition. So, I still ran them--though cautiously--and was quite relieved each time that the left heel came through fine. As with mileage, I slowly re-introduced workout components: strides, hill sprints, hill repeats, tempo runs, long runs (i.e., 11 miles or more). The first long run was two Sundays ago (12 miles); the second one was last Sunday (15 miles). Both were ~1 min/mi slower than my average long run pace leading up to Pocono.

The following pace chart shows the two recent long runs compared with the three long runs before Pocono. The loss in fitness, due to the month-long layoff, is significant, even considering the difference between the cooler pre-Pocono and the warmer September temperatures. The three long runs were at ~GMP for my current BQ (8:58), and I mostly hydrated and fueled on the run. The only exception was during the April 17th run, around Mile 5, on a hill up to the campus of Cornell University. In contrast, during both of the September runs, I had to (or felt as) take a 0.10-0.20-mile water/fuel walk every five miles or so. The two "sub-GMP" miles (12, 13) of the September 25th run were ~30-40 sec slower than the comparable pace before Pocono. (I usually try to run sub-GMP for the back half of long runs.) The lost fitness, though, is being slowly regained. Compared with September 18th, the run on the 25th was 7 sec/mi fitter. :) It felt easier and the legs felt stronger, even though the run was three miles longer.

So, the main conclusion from my recent injury and recovery is that the estimated 10% decrease in fitness after a month-long layoff seems on the low side. Or, there needs to be an age-adjustment to the estimates! The decrease in fitness is not just physical but also mental--indeed, perhaps especially mental. In the first longish run, all of six miles, two weeks after I began running again, I struggled against wanting to stop and walk at just over three miles!

Back to healing the heel. During that month off the road, I read up on various foot core exercises and ways to improve foot strength and began to incorporate some of them into my workouts. Then, I came across this article on plantar fasciitis and the benefits of deep-tissue massage. So, I dug out the foot massage wooden roller (photo above), which has been lying around the house mostly unused. I began using it daily, with one foot or both feet, with varying pressure, and with different combinations of rollers massaging different parts of the sole. Totally unscientifically (!), but I think the massager has played a major role in my heel's recovery. In any case, I've incorporated it into my post-run routines.

How do I get back sort of on track for the upcoming Harrisburg Marathon in November? This is the end of Week 10 already, in the 16-week training cycle. Tomorrow's long run should be 19 miles. I'm planning to do 17. I should have already done nine previous long runs (of 11-18 miles). I've done two so far, 12 and 15. There are four more long runs, before the 3-week taper, including the Baltimore Half as a training run. I'm planning to get up to 20 miles for the last long run. Still, I probably should readjust expectations for Harrisburg. I'm definitely rethinking how to run that race.

"Achieving one’s qualifying standard does not guarantee entry" - an update

It was a long shot. I knew, when I submitted my registration for Boston 2017, that the only way I might have a chance is the opening of a Week 3 of first-come, first-served registration. But, as was also the case for the past three years, registration was closed before Week 3. For 2017, one had to be 2:09 under the threshold qualifying time, for all age groups. For comparison, one had to be under by 2:28, 1:02, and 1:38 for 2016, 2015, and 2014, respectively. So, I am one of the 2,957 people for whom "achieving one's qualifying standard does not guarantee entry" turned out to be, alas, true.:(

I needed 3:52:51, 2:09 under my threshold qualifying time of 3:55:00. That's just five seconds faster per mile back in May (Pocono). "Just," I'm thinking, sitting here now. At the time, on the course, those would have been five looong seconds!

So, it's Boston 2018. I'll be in the next age group, with 15 more minutes (!) added to the qualifying standard. Goal will be to qualify by at least 20 minutes (3:50 or faster), which would put me in the group whose registrations get accepted first. Harrisburg is coming up in November. I was pretty confident of running a 3:50 there, until that left heel injury in July, which kept me off the road for an entire month. I'm quite behind in training, and I'm rethinking how I should run that race. Next year, I'll probably skip the early spring race (e.g., Rock 'n' Roll DC, Shamrock). I'm also thinking not to run Pocono again in May. I've done that race three years in a row now. Those rolling hills of Miles 19-23 make that net-elevation-loss course rather deceptive--even though I did finally BQ there. Instead of Pocono, I'm looking at a possible new one, Gettysburg in April, which goes through parts of the historic Gettysburg Battlefield. It's a small race, with just a few hundred people, on a course that's generally flat, with some hills in the early miles (in contrast with Pocono!).

Harrisburg and Gettysburg, my two qualifying races for Boston 2018. I expect to be toeing that starting line at Hopkinton in April 2018! :)

"Achieving one’s qualifying standard does not guarantee entry"

That's according to the 2017 Boston Marathon Registration. But, it does earn one the right to submit a registration! The BAA provides a handy calculator for when is one's time to register. Here's my calculator result, based on the 3:55 time from the Pocono Marathon. The first week (of September 12) is for those who qualified by five minutes or more. Starting the second week (of September 19), all qualifiers may submit a registration. That's me!

In the past couple years, to be guaranteed an entry to the Boston Marathon, one has to have qualified with a time that's faster than the required standard--by about a minute in 2015 and by about 2.5 minutes this year (2016). Given my qualifying time of 3:55 is at the threshold for my age group, the chance of my registration actually becoming an entry is probably next to nil. So, why bother? Because it's like playing the lottery? Because maybe, in my age group, there won't be more submissions than space allows? Yeah, there is probably a little bit of that. :)

But, much more the reason is, if I do get to run Boston 2017, that would be the last one in my current age group. It has taken me more than five years and more than 50 minutes to finally qualify. I began with a finish time at close to five hours; now, when I head out from the start line, I expect to finish under four. For Harrisburg in November, my goal will be under 3:50. This is why I really want to run Boston 2017, before I "age" up to the next group. The latter's qualifying standard is 15 minutes slower, which means I'll almost definitely achieve my qualifying standard--and be guaranteed an entry--for Boston 2018. Where is the challenge in that!

Besides, it's not my fault if there is not enough space in my age group to accommodate every qualifier. It's BAA's fault! :)

Patience is key

Easier said than done, that's for sure. Cabin fever, itchy feet, ... I wanna run!

OK, let me back up. In May, after I finally BQ'ed at the Pocono Marathon, I took about a week-long rest, followed by a slow ramp-up with short, easy runs. Usually, I'd then gradually sync up with the 16-week training cycle for my next marathon. This year, because I decided to skip the early fall marathon, I had some extra time before starting the training for Harrisburg in November: For some extra rest; some speed work ... or, some shorter distance racing! For the six weeks after Pocono, at two-week intervals, I ran the Nitro Trail Half in Point Pinole Regional Park, San Pablo, CA and couple 5K's near home. The possible significance didn't really register at the time, but, during that 6-week period, my left heel was feeling more and more stiff, especially in the morning, right after getting up from bed. Each time, after some movement, the stiffness would lessen somewhat--enough to feel as I could still run.

And so, not being patient, I kept on running.

Two weeks later, after the Saturday easy 4-mile run, hill sprints, and a set of plyometrics (using the front yard curb), the left heel felt decidedly stiff and painful, even to walk. I took the next week off; and, I was not going to run the following week as well. But, the pain went away; only the stiffness remained, a stiffness that lessened with movement.

And so, not being patient, I kept on running.

Then, four Saturdays ago, during my usual easy 4-miler, at just around two miles, I felt a sharp pain in my left heel. I debated whether to continue. Many a times in the past, I had run through these twinges until they had gone away. This time, the pain likewise gradually decreased.

And so, not being patient, I kept on running (at a pace faster than my goal marathon pace for Boston).

Of course, the damage had already been done; I just felt it with a time delay. I could hardly walk shortly after I finished the run. It has been almost four weeks now without running, the longest off period going back to at least 2010. All I've done are some core exercises, plus some for stabilizing the "foot core." (See Alex Hutchinson's 2015 article, based on a paper in the British Journal of Sports Medicine, "The foot core system: a new paradigm for understanding intrinsic foot muscle function.") ... I wanna run!

Again, how does one know when to stop and when to run through pain. I'd asked the same question about the twinge I'd felt during that 2012 Paris morning run. I just re-read that post and noticed that the twinge referenced there was also in the left heel. Hmm ... Maybe the next time I feel something not quite normal, I should just stop and not keep on running--and, be patient! See The 25 Golden Rules of Running (Rule 5). As Jack Foster, the "Ancient Marathoner," said, "if it hurts, don't run on it." But, easier said than done ...

Likewise, in resuming running after an injury, patience is key. According to the latter article, at around four weeks off now, I've lost about 10% of my VO2max, along with the related loss in conditioning in my musculoskeletal system. So, I need to remind myself to be patient, as I ease back into running. The general strategy is the same in resuming running after a break in training due to other reasons (e.g., schedule conflicts). "Start from where you are instead of ... where you 'should be.'" I "should be" nearing the end of week 4 of my 16-week cycle for Harrisburg in November. But, instead, I'm probably at more like week -2!

I kind of feel I could have run last weekend. But, I decided to take another week off. I may do a short test run this weekend. Be patient, be patient, be patient, ...

Rethinking Noakes

Having watched Mara Abbott's heartbreaking fourth-place finish in the women's cycling road race at the Rio Olympics, I'm rethinking Noakes' hypothesis regarding second place and lower finishers--that, in those cases, "physiology does not determine who wins. Rather somewhere in the final section of the race, the brains of the second, and lower placed finishers accept their respective finishing positions and no longer choose to challenge for a higher finish." Abbott had a 39-second lead, coming off the hills, after passing the Vista Chinesa, with about 4 miles to the finish but being chased by a three-person pack. The latter three were taking turns leading and, thus, had the advantage over Abbott. With about 200 meters left to the finish, they caught up with Abbott and sprinted to the finish for gold, silver, and bronze. Abbott did not respond to their move. Or, Abbott could not respond. With the finish line clearly in sight and Olympic gold at stake, does it make sense that she "accepted" not being first? At a post-race interview, Abbott said she gave it her all and left nothing on the course. From what I could see, I agree. In Abbott's case, at least, she didn't "choose" to not challenge for first. She couldn't challenge. The women's finish was very similar to the men's yesterday, where the solo rider at the front was similarly caught and passed by a small chase pack, not too far from the finish. So, in cycling, more than running, it could be more a matter of racing strategy, i.e., breaking from the pack and riding solo in front is risky, unless the lead is big enough. Cycling is not my sport; so, I'm just speculating here. Abbott was really impressive in the interview. Really classy.

Sub3 before 73

What is the marathon question (with the emphasis on "the")? If you're thinking it’s when someone will run a sub-2 hour marathon, you would be wrong! What? How could that be! The sub-2 marathon has been, for some time, the subject of intense debate. Michael Joyner et al. (2011), in The two-hour marathon: who and when? (Journal of Applied Physiology), discussed how investigations into the physiology of the 2-hour marathon could inform who might be first and when. Using past finish times, the authors projected a when between 2022 and 2035. Joyner has long been studying the physiological factors of human endurance. He had published, in the same journal some 20 years earlier (1991), a paper on Modeling: optimal marathon performance on the basis of physiological factors. The fastest possible marathon time predicted by his model was 1:57:58. See also Phil Maffetone’s 2014 book, 1:59.

Some three months after Dennis Kimetto ran 2:02:57 at the Berlin Marathon in September 2014, a dedicated campaign, the SUB2 project, was begun to help achieve a sub-2 hour marathon within five years. The New York Times recently had a two-part article, “Man vs. Marathon,” on this project (Part1, Part2). The following figure from this article shows a projected achievement year for the sub-2 marathon in the 2030s.

Not surprisingly, the SUB2 project elicited many responses. The most critical perhaps was Ross Tucker’s article, comparing the 2-hour marathon and the 4-min mile. His objection was not that a sub-2 marathon was not possible but that it was not possible to achieve within the next five years (i.e., 2019). Alex Hutchinson took a different approach in responding, by providing a detailed analysis of what will it take to run a 2-hour marathon. A similar extrapolation of past marathon records in Hutchinson’s article as that in the SUB2 project article showed a sub-2 marathon being achieved sometime before 2030, though he ended the article with a prediction of 2075. Richard Lovett provided a similar analysis in Looking for Mr. 1:59 but without a predicted achievement year.

Of course, a sub-2 hour marathon would be a really, really big deal! But, the marathon question for me personally relates to the sub-3 hour marathon, or, more specifically, Ed Whitlock's 2:54:48 that he ran in 2004, at age 73, a world record for that age group. See two recent articles on Whitlock (1, 2). Theoretically, then, I can still run a sub-3 marathon! So, my dedicated campaign is the SUB3 project. J

Much of what Hutchinson described about the perfect race and the perfect runner that would be needed for a sub-2 marathon also applies to a sub-3 marathon. For example, one of the factors of the perfect runner is “towering self-confidence.” Hutchinson noted that “physiologists have shown that what you perceive as your physical limits depends on what you believe is possible—change your beliefs and you can push your limits.”

If I also “extrapolate” my past marathon times, my sub-3 finish would take place somewhere around 2020. J This downward trend line is representative of the adaptation to training—It is still mostly a matter of training!

The other trend, of course, is my aging curve. Aging lowers the VO2 max, decreases muscle mass, makes one less flexible, and requires longer time for healing and recovery. (VO2 max is a measure of the maximum volume of oxygen that one can use.) See Richard Lovett’s article, “The science of aging and running” (2009). Lovett wrote a related article (2015), “Mastering running as you age,” in which he discussed how to adapt to the approximately 0.7% decline in the body per year, for each major age group. There was another article that, unfortunately, I can’t locate right now that contained this key idea: The decline in long-distance running with age is relatively slow, i.e., not until around age 65 (?) does one’s potential decreases down to that of a teen. I like that! J The journal Age had a paper on the development of sport and chess performances over a lifetime (Berthelot, 2012). A characteristic growth and decline could be described by a simple model. (Here’s a summary of the paper.) Ray Fair (2007) described a similar study on age effects on rates of decline. Handy calculators based on the results from the study give predicted minimum times by age in various running and swimming events, given one’s best previous time. (Here’s a related NY Times article on Fair’s work.)

For me, there’s also a lingering outlier. Using race time predictors, my predicted and actual best times are remarkably close for all distances, except for the marathon (see figure). For the latter, even with my recent BQ time of 3:55, I’m still about 13 minutes slower than my predicted potential of 3:42. Similarly, on Athlinks, my rankings for various distances, up to the half marathon, range from a top 21% for the 10-mile to a top 34% for the 8K. For the marathon, I rank only in the top 56% (see table).

My rankings on Athlinks 

Distance	Ranking (%)
5K	28.4
8K	34.3
4M	29.8
10K	26.0
10M	20.9
13M	33.6
26M	55.8

Why is that? Typical training long runs are at about 60-90 seconds slower than one’s goal marathon pace (GMP). In the recent one to two years, my training long runs have been at only about 10-15 seconds slower than my current GMP (or BQ pace of 8:58). How come I can't seem to be able to run marathons at a much faster pace than that of training runs? True, training runs don't go 26 miles. But, is there something else? Is it a need for more mental training? Or, more physical training, e.g., to increase the strength of the back kick? Not sure, but I am working on both. The photo below (from a NY Times article on Kenya, running shoes, and bribery) shows the beautiful back kick and form in general that I'm trying to work towards.

Anyway, here’s the general plan for my SUB3 project. I don’t have a September marathon scheduled this year. Instead, before the training cycle begins for the November Harrisburg Marathon, I’ll work on speed. That will allow me, instead of using the 5K and 8K in September (that my kids and I traditionally run together) as training runs, to actually race them and try for PRs. Speed work will also help improve my efficiency for Harrisburg. My goal for the latter is 3:50 (8:47 pace), which would qualify me for Boston 2018 by 20 minutes (will be in new age group!). The qualified by 20 minutes or more group is the first one to gain entry, followed by 10 minutes or more, 5 minutes or more, and then all other time qualifiers (until all spots for that age group have been filled).

Goal for 2017: To realize my predicted potential of 3:42 (8:28 pace) and remove that lingering outlier.

Goal for 2018: To become competitive with the top finishers in my age group or ~3:30 (8:01 pace). That's around my current tempo pace. Yea, I know. J But, I do think it's realistically achievable. This is my main goal for the SUB3 project, part 1. Will see how far I get!

That would leave a couple more years to complete part 2--which is an altogether different kind of story! J

Run without regret (Run for the Red Marathon 2016 race report)

That’s what my son said, when I told him that the Pocono Marathon two Sundays ago would be my last chance to qualify for Boston (2017) in my current age group (threshold qualifying time of 3:55). My third and last planned marathon for this year is in November, a qualifying result from which would be for Boston 2018. For the latter, I’ll be in the next age group, with 15 more minutes for BQ (threshold qualifying time of 4:10). So, I’ll all but certain qualify and actually be able to get in. I will have “aged” into qualifying. Meh! That’s why I so wanted to BQ at Pocono.

Run without regret. I really like these three words and what they represent. Perfect as a mantra, of which I made good use during Pocono’s run. It made the difference between yet another missed-the-BQ-by-just-a-few-seconds run and BQ, albeit by just making the threshold time (3:55:00).

                                          Oh, yea, oh, yea, my GPS watch says BQ!

                                                      Just ahead of the 3:55 Pacer Yoshiko

The Pocono Marathon is kind of special for me. It was here where I ran my first sub-4 marathon (2014) and, now, where I finally BQ’ed. But, with just a threshold qualifying time, my chance of actually getting in for Boston 2017 is pretty much nil—unless everyone in my age group, for some strange reason, decides not to run next year. :) I’ll still submit my registration, of course. Regardless, I’m absolutely thrilled! Before the race, I’d thought, well, if I just qualify and don’t actually get in, it doesn’t quite count. Afterwards—and after five years of trying—it feels like a pretty big deal!

At bib pickup the day before the race, I talked with the pace group people about pacing strategy. There were pace groups for 3:55 and 3:50. I needed ~3:52 or faster (to qualify and get in for 2017). So, my question was should I stay with the 3:55 pacer for the front half and then try to catch up to the 3:50 group? Or, should I go with the 3:50 pacer and try to hang on for the last 10K? At the pasta dinner hosted by the local Rotary Club the night before the race, a fellow runner sat down across from me who had been a pacer for other races. I asked him what he thought I should do. He suggested, given the course profile, I should take advantage of the elevation loss in the first 2/3 of the course and follow the 3:50 pacer and, then, just try to hang on.

Which was what I ended up doing. The following chart shows my pacing and finishing times for Pocono 2014, 2015, and 2016. It also shows the three fairly distinct segments of the course: Miles 1-18, Miles 19-23, and Miles 24-26. I’ve named the front 18 the “primrose path” and the series of rolling hills of Miles 19-23 the “buzz saw” (to the unwary!). (See course profile and map.) The last three miles are relatively flat, starting on Wallace Street, followed by N 6^th Street and then Main Street, before turning into the parking lot of Stroudsburg High School and ending with a ¾ run around its stadium track—Olympic style!

The pace chart shows 4:00, 3:55, and 3:50 pacing for the first 18 miles, for 2014, 2015, and 2016, respectively. I used the even pace strategy in 2014, by staying just ahead of the 4:00 pacer pretty much all the way to the finish. In 2015, I began with the 3:55 pacer, even though that was risky, given the forecast high temperatures in the 80s. And, sure enough, that run ended with the usual “death march” after Mile 18. This year, I began with the 3:50 Pacer Dan; but, then, feeling good—and with visions of a sub-3:50!—I stepped onto the “primrose path” between Miles 5 and 16 and went ahead of Pacer Dan. He eventually caught up with me around Mile 17. We ran together the next couple miles, before he went ahead shortly after we got into the “buzz saw” segment. What saved me this year was the almost ideal temperature, which began in the upper 30s and ended in the upper 50s. The cool temperatures helped me contain the upward trend of the “death march.” The forecast ~15 mph wind turned out to be not much of a factor. This year, then, I used the “banking time” strategy—though not on purpose! (This strategy, of course, is not recommended.)

                                  Pocono Marathon course profile: Net elevation loss, but deceptive!

                                 Pocono Marathon course map

The pace chart also shows the importance of pacers. Pacer Dan helped me maintain a sub-3:50 pace for the front 18. That “banked time” mitigated my error of succumbing to the temptation of the “primrose path.” But, what really helped me cross the finish line not one second slower and, thus, BQ was having Pacer Yoshiko pass me shortly after I got out of the “buzz saw” and onto Wallace Street. As I was struggling through the “buzz saw,” and as those mile splits steadily slowed, I saw my BQ slipping away. I kept saying to myself, you blew it—and all kinds of other negative things! On Wallace Street, with three miles left, I felt as I had nothing left.

But, then, something happened, as Pacer Yoshiko passed me with some words of encouragement. It brought back the thought of running without regret. I said, damn it, I’m not going to miss BQ again by a few seconds, regardless of my earlier pacing error. I'm not going to, on the drive home, once again regret that I was not able to run a few seconds faster over 26 miles. Or, chose not to.

It was the first time I felt I was able to really reach deep down and tap into that 50-65% unused potential that the body reserves to prevent catastrophic failure. (See Tim Noakes’ 2012 review article in Frontiers in Physiology, "Fatigue is a brain-derived emotion that regulates the exercise behavior to ensure the protection of whole body homeostasis.") I thought if I could just keep Pacer Yoshiko in sight, then I’d still have a chance to BQ. Many pacers run to finish with a few seconds to spare. I took a final 5-second walk right before the turn onto Main Street, around Mile 25, and just hanged on for that last mile. I don’t know how I did it—that last mile was kind of blurry—other than just one stride at a time. My pace even got slightly faster. Pacer Yoshiko then did a really nice thing; using some of those spare seconds, she stopped at the entrance to the Stroudsburg High School stadium and said “You did it!” as she encouraged everyone onto the track. She then followed me to the finish.

So, that was how I finally, after five years of trying, managed to BQ--with not a fraction of a second to spare. :)

I’ve written about the Pocono Marathon itself the previous two years (Pocono 2014, Pocono 2015). Here are a few more details:

- The national anthem right before the start was one of the best renditions I’ve heard in all the races I’ve been to. I found out later that the singers were a group of students from the Pocono Mountain East High School. Very impressive!

- As usual, the volunteers were superb. Helpful and cheerful, sunshine or rain. There was a period of the latter, not too heavy but cold, around Miles 17-18. I was glad that I’d decided not to dress for the finish temperature (in shorts) and went for, instead, a pair of light tights.

- I love that volunteer who stood at the top of the last significant hill before Wallace Street around the beginning of Mile 24 and said, this is the last hill, I promise!

- For a mostly non-city race, the spectator support was really good and helpful. Numbers varied along the course but were particularly high around Mile 9, at the intersection of Routes 314 and 611, and at the half way point, shortly after turning from Red Rock Road onto Route 191, a main road going down to Stroudsburg.

- Race shirt is short-sleeved this year, with a nice and simple design.

Of course, I’ve been rethinking quite a bit about my pacing decision and implementation. Had I not gone onto the “primrose path” and, instead, stayed with Pacer Dan, would I have been able to keep up with him longer? Had I started with Pacer Yoshiko, would I have been able to better negotiate the “buzz saw” and perhaps push ahead of her in those last three miles? Either way, could I have finished three minutes faster (3:52)? I would never know, of course.

No matter: Boston qualified, I am. :) And, I ran without regret!

Mental lapse (Rock 'n' Roll Washington DC Marathon race report)

Of course, at the time, as I was going up the hills on Fort Dupont Drive SE in Fort Circle Park (Mile 23 of the Rock 'n' Roll Washington DC Marathon), what I was doing didn't occur to me as a "mental lapse." I had one gel in my wrist wallet that was planned for Mile 20; but, I couldn't get it out of the wallet while running. With six miles left, I figured I'll just skip it. Once I got to those hills, however, I thought maybe I better still take it. So, I slowed to a fast walk, got the gel out, and was then supposed to pick up the pace again, as I down the gel over the next 1/4 mile or so. Once those legs started walking, however, they just kept on walking! I rationalized by telling myself that a fast walk up a hill is not that much slower than a slow run. :) The following map of the last 10K of the course shows the location of the Fort Circle Park hills. (All maps shown are annotated versions of parts of the course map on the RnR Web site)

By the time I finally convinced my legs to get moving again, about a minute had gone by. For that Mile 23, my pace ended up some 90 seconds slower than the average of the previous 22 miles. So, by how much did I miss my BQ? 49 seconds!

One cause of the mental lapse, I think, was my overconfidence. I thought I had it. I was passing people for much of the front half. Now, usually, that would have been of some concern. But, I wasn't straining; my average pace of 8:47 felt easy. Then, as I was heading into the hairpin part of the course (First St SW, Mile 16), I saw the 3:40 pace group coming out. I didn't know at the time how far in the hairpin goes; but, in my mind, seeing the 3:40 just added to my confidence. Unjustifiably, as it turned out. I was actually about 1-1/2 mile behind the 3:40 group, at that point, or about 13 minutes. 3:40 plus 13 is 3:53, which is borderline for me actually getting into Boston. My BQ of 3:55 would not be sufficient, based on the past few years. Had I known all this at the time, that mental lapse seven miles later might not have occurred. About a mile later, as I was heading out of the hairpin (2nd St SW, Mile 17), I saw the 3:55 pace group still heading in towards the turnaround point. That, totally unjustifiably, solidified my confidence. I was thinking to myself that I just have to stay ahead of the 3:55 group and try to catch up with the 3:40 group--I got it! I was still confident, as I was approaching the finish line. Or, I must have been hallucinating. Because, when I checked my GPS watch, I was sure I saw 3:52 something. So, I was all smiles crossing the line. The digital "5" and "2" could easily be misread--especially when one's mind is zoned out!

At least my finish line photos showed an exhilarated, photogenic runner!

What I didn't ask and should have asked of the pace groups was from which corrals did they start? That information was critical, because several minutes separated each of the starting corrals/waves (some 30 in all). Similarly, shortly after coming out of Fort Circle Park, about half way into Mile 25 along Minnesota Ave SE (see course map of last 10K above), I passed a different 3:55 pacer, all by herself at that point. But, without knowing her starting corral, I couldn't determine where I was with respect to my BQ.

Overall, my strategy for the race went according to plan (pacing, fueling, water stops, etc.) and worked well. As planned, I took a gel just before the start, four dates each at Miles 5, 10, and 15, and that gel at Mile 23. I skipped a couple water stops; otherwise, I sipped about half a cup over a 10-count walk through each stop.

What happened during Mile 23 was a tactical error resulting from a 60-second mental lapse. I should have slow run those Fort Circle Park hills. As the following pace chart shows, except for Miles 23 and 24, I maintained a generally even pace, with just a very slightly positive split. And, I was able to bring the pace back down to ~nine minutes again for the last two miles. There was no wall.

I should have BQ'ed. I had it but then lost it. The fact that a mental lapse-free finish time would most likely not have been enough to get me into Boston 2017 is small consolation.

I do like very much that, between 2013 (the other time I ran this race) and this year, my pace improved by about one minute or a finish time of about 26 minutes, and there was no "hockey stick" finish. Plus, my finish time of 3:55:49 was a 31-second PR, relative to last November's Harrisburg Marathon; and, unlike Harrisburg, the new PR was run without a pacer. Like fine wine, getting better with age!

This being a Rock 'n' Roll race, there was plenty of music. Loud music. Though, in some stretches of the second half of the course, it was too quiet. Part of the reason might be that, of the total field of about 20K runners (for marathon and half marathon), only about 1/8 ran the marathon. No wonder, then, once the marathoners split away from the half'ers just before Mile 13 and headed along East Capitol St NE towards the Supreme Court, it got noticeably quieter!

Overall, the race was well managed. The course was very runner friendly. The corral/wave starts created space for everyone to run his or her pace, even though this was a big city race. UPS gear check was efficient. The first 2/3 mile along the wide Constitution Ave., with the Washington Monument on the left and the White House on the right, allowed the runners to sort themselves out and avoid the usual congestion. Spectator support was great, especially through the Adams Morgan neighborhood, shortly after the hill up to Calvert St NW. And, all the support people at water stops were very friendly and efficient. A big thanks to all of them!

The weather was also well managed. Rain was forecast up until a few days before the race. Instead, it was just cloudy, with temperatures in the 50's for the entire race. Almost ideal.

And, for finishers, a nice "heavy medal" and light jacket. Though, for the latter, I would have preferred one without "FINISHER."

I've just a few gripes. Pacers were not well marked. At least I didn't see any in my starting corral (#8). Also, their starting corral numbers should be visible on them somewhere. I much more prefer the chip on the bib, instead of the loop kind held by shoe laces. I like to tie my shoes with just the right amount of tightness, and looping the laces through the chip interferes somewhat with that. Porta- potties: Start line area could use a few more (well, most races could use a few more!).

I now have just one more chance to qualify for Boston (2017) in my current age group, before I would age into qualifying (for 2018)--which would be far less satisfying. I've a shortened 8-week training cycle before the Pocono Marathon in May, to figure out how to lapse-proof the mental part of my race.

My legs were like, whoa, running outside on the road!

Two Saturdays ago, I participated in a stride clinic offered by my local runners club (MCRRC). Then, on the day after, I did my weekly long run (20M) at a pace, for the first time ever, faster than my BQ pace--by 10s. Coincidence? I think mostly so. Now, even though much of what I heard at the clinic I had already read from books and articles, what I did learn that's really important was that what I thought I've been paying attention to (mindful of) and doing in my training runs might not have been quite what I actually have been doing, at least not all the time. During that Sunday's run, I was more mindful (than usual) of my form and stride, and, perhaps, doing that improved my efficiency and thus pace. Still, I think it's mostly coincidence that my "PR long run pace" (8:48) immediately followed the clinic. I'd give more credit to the two Snowzilla-imposed treadmill runs (18 and 19M). I think my legs were just so ecstatic to be running outside that they were beside themselves. :)

The following pace chart shows the mile splits for both the post-clinic run (Feb. 7) and yesterday's 21M run on the treadmill (Feb. 14). The two red lines mark my GMP (8:58) and stretch GMP (8:30). Because 8:58 would not actually get me into Boston (need ~8:51), I've been mentally using 8:30 as the goal pace. For the Feb. 7 run, around Miles 5 and 10, I was fumbling with gloved hands a plastic bag of dates; and, around Mile 15, PowerGel. So, the pace slowed a bit for those miles. The chart also shows a generally even pace running outside vs. a controlled negative split pace on the treadmill.

So, what happened on Feb. 7? It was a training run, just myself, without the advantage of a race situation. I wasn't really trying to run sub-GMP; the pace just felt relatively easy. I can think of two possible factors, one related to all those treadmill runs I've been doing recently (14 so far this year, including this morning's) and the other related to some changes I've made in how I do lunges in pre- and post-run exercises.

A treadmill enforces pace--and enforces it absolutely! It's the "perfect" pacer. Running outside, of course, is always more preferred. But, when it's icy or sub-zero windchill, though the scenery may still beckon, the quality of the run will necessarily suffer. In contrast, on a treadmill, I can plan out exactly each mile split, for each kind of run (tempo, easy, etc). Perhaps, from all those times when I opted for quality over scenery and ran on the treadmill, I've gotten used to running and sustaining sub-GMP's. Perhaps, the treadmill has trained my mind to be comfortable with dropping ~7s per mile (0.1 mph) in the last 10K of a long run, from what's already a sub-GMP just before the 10K. The latter kind of 10K was what I did on the Feb. 14 run. Because running on a treadmill is like running with a pacer, a particular pace seems easier on a treadmill than it is on a road by myself. The difference in perception of effort from increasing by 0.1 mph from mile to mile is very slight; and, yet, from the first to the last mile of the last 10K of a long run, there's a 35-second or so difference in pace!

As I had noted in my post on those Snowzilla runs on the treadmill, if one is mindful about running, then whether it's on a treadmill or on a road or trail outside should make little difference. By breaking the long run into 5-mile segments and focusing on the current segment and its components (each mile, each 0.1-mile, etc.), I'm starting to find running on a treadmill to be, well, not too bad. :) At least, I no longer think of it as "dreadmill"! I think these treadmill runs are helping to strengthen the mental aspect of long runs. Being mindful is not just of form and stride, but also of fatigue. Being mindful of fatigue, though, does not mean dwelling on it, but, rather, acknowledging it and moving on. So, to the mantra that was so useful in Pocono 2014, "dumb it down," I now add, "let it pass."

Some months ago, I began doing lunges that are in the pre- and post-run exercises as if they're part of Tai Chi Chuan (Tai Ji Quan)--slowly, mindfully. I think the strengthening of the legs, as a result, is one factor in the recent pace improvement. Here are couple illustrations of the lunge element in Tai Chi (from googling "taiji images").

There could be other factors. I've been experimenting with dates replacing gels. In the Feb. 14 run, I fueled with 4 dates each at Miles 5, 10, and 15. No gels at all. But, I don't know yet what difference fueling with dates makes. I haven't yet decided how exactly I'll fuel for the upcoming March RnR USA marathon.

Regardless of whatever explanatory factors, I feel the Feb. 7 run is another occurrence of punctuated equilibria. Right now, I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about BQ'ing in the March race. :)

And those legs? They're still talking about that morning's high!

#blizzard2016 long run

Last week, as I was following the weather reports on the approaching Snowzilla Jonas and the minimum 18" that were forecast for my area, I was thinking (dreading?) about the upcoming Sunday 18-mile run that will have to be done on the treadmill. Here's my preparation the night before (4 dates @ at Miles 5 and 10; PowerGel at Mile 15).

The previous longest distance I've run on a treadmill was something like 13 miles, so I wasn't totally sure I could go the distance. The NordicTrack goes erratic when the duration exceeds an hour and sometimes just stops. Maybe the programmer didn't think anyone could handle the "dreadmill" for more than 60 minutes and left out the "if (duration > 60)" part. Anyway, that was partly why I reset it every 5 miles, each time taking about 10 seconds, while my cell phone stopwatch continued. Thus breaking the 18 miles into four parts, 3 x 5 miles and 1 x 5K, helped somewhat the mental aspect of the run. At least, "dreadmill" became just treadmill.

Still, 18 miles on the treadmill was a lot tougher than 18 miles on the road! This was so, even though I didn't simulate the hills of my usual long run route and kept the treadmill level for the entire run. And, I didn't carry the water bottle. To break the monotony, I made full use of the WBS (Work Breakdown Structure) applied to running (see Running WBS, Intestinal runs, and Running WBS (2)). Starting with the 18 miles in four parts and Miles 5, 10, and 15 being fuel+water breaks, I further broke the run down with water breaks every 2.5 miles and then individual miles of each 5-mile segment, as follow:

Mile 1: Warm-up, getting into the rhythm (even after the first 5-mile segment).
Mile 2: "Historical," especially the second 0.5 mile. The NordicTrack shows distance with three decimals (i.e., 1.xxx). So, 1.620 would be Pilgrims at Plymouth; 1.776 would be Declaration of Independence; 1.860+ would be Civil War, etc. Once the distance gets to 1.900, the historical events get more personal (birth years, high school, college, work, etc.).
Mile 3: Water break at mid-point.
Mile 4: Toughest mile of the five!
Mile 5: Fuel intake starting at ~4.500; first date until ~4.700; second date until ~4.900; third date just before 5.000 then water; fourth date just after resetting the treadmill for the next 5-mile segment (more on this later). At Mile 15 (end of third 5-mile segment), PowerGel starting at ~4.500 and mostly finished just before 5.000 then water; last bit of gel just after resetting the treadmill for the final 5K segment.

Beyond the individual miles, there were the individual tenths of a mile. And, ultimately, there was the present moment and being mindful of it, so that, as I ran, I knew I was running. I knew whether or not I was relaxed; I knew on what part of my soles I was landing; I knew whether or not I was breathing properly. Ultimately, being mindful makes running on a treadmill not that different from running outside.

Back to why that fourth date just after resetting the treadmill and starting the next segment. I didn't take water after the fourth date, so the sweetness lingered in the mouth. I'm still testing the results from Chambers et al. (2009), who showed how rinsing the mouth with a carbohydrate solution without swallowing affected performance. For the same reason, I took that last bit of PowerGel at the start of the last 5K segment.

Another thought occurred to me during the run, as I was looking at the open container of dates. Usually, on an outside run, the dates would be in a plastic bag and out of sight in my hand. On the treadmill, those dates were staring at me. Could there be some biochemical effect (on performance) from the visual cues of dates? :)

Anyway, what was the result of 18 miles of mindfulness? An average pace that's just one second slower than my current marathon PR pace set at Harrisburg.

Oh, if I could only maintain this kind of pace in an actual race--overall even and progressively negative! Of course, using the treadmill as a pacer did make this part of the mental aspect easier. For the past couple some years, my GMP of 8:58 would not have been enough to actually get into Boston. I would have needed about 8:51. So, for the current 16-week training cycle, I've been using 8:30 as a stretch GMP on which to base my long runs.

In case I've gotten you all eager to jump on a treadmill, here are some treadmill workouts. :)

As for me, after this #blizzard2016 long run, I went outside and did 8 x 1 hour core exercises--of the non-standard kind.