Pictures | Links | Statistics | Training | Race Day | After
Pictures
The starting area for the second half. For some reason the buses to the start were at 6:30AM even though the start wasn't until 8:30AM.
You can see the runners from the first half and the full marathon on the trail in the background.
Me running. Dunno where that came from. The park is pretty and stuff, but it was making me feel closed in.
Regrouping.
The course was lots of little twists and turns. This was the first long open view and for some reason it made me happy. You can see down the street all the way to the ocean.
These pictures represent, in order, pain, suffering, and determination. "Pain" is at the beginning of mile nine. "Suffering" is the interminable walk toward the finish line that just won't show up. And "determination" is that final decision that this is going to happen one way or another. I've cut out my weird body contortions as my back and legs were cramping up.
Looking a little crazed as the finish line finally comes into view.
Next to the finish line I got some guy to take my picture. I can barely stand up, but I guess it doesn't show. When I crossed the finish line the medical personnel asked if I was okay, so it showed then. The Bay Bridge behind me.
Links
Race homepage and course map.
Statistics
Garmin heart rate / pace chart. I've set the marker at 2:31, where my performance starts to fall apart (more below).
Average pace per GPS: 15:53 (16:57 at my previous half-marathon)
Average heart rate: 171 bpm (166 bpm previously)
Weight: 220 lbs. (22 lbs. less than previously)
Body Fat: 44% (down 3% from previous)
My record of time (excludes pottie break): 3:30:59. This is 10 minutes faster than my previous half-marathon.
Official time: 3:32:39.
Training
Walking: I only walk in training and my intention was to continue with the walking focus until I lose a lot more weight. My focus has been long slow walks, 7 to 10 miles with a few shorter walks, and a weekly average of about 35 "miles" per week. I count other activities (cardio equipment at the gym and swimming) as "virtual miles" based on a heart rate calculation that goes back to the energy I use on the average mile. I tried to bump it up to 40 miles per week before the Santa Cruz event six weeks earlier. After running much of the Santa Cruz event, I realized that it was time to start running and was planning to start with one day per week of running training after this San Francisco event.
From the Santa Cruz event to the San Francisco taper, per week, I walked 12.8 miles (recovering from Santa Cruz), zero miles (sick), 25.5, 35.6.
Taper: I haven't been able to get into a controlled taper for any of these events; I end up just not doing anything. This time, from day -14 onward I only walked 3.5 miles on days -9 and -7. I tried to start eating from the evening of day -4, but I didn't eat that much. I didn't record how much I ate, but it seemed like I wasn't eating enough and from how I felt during the event I don't think I had eaten enough.
Race Day
Goals: I wanted to walk 3:30 because that was the slowest that would get me in before the race course was opened to traffic and that would guarantee a finisher's medal. I thought that I might run some downhills if they were available, and that after mile six if things were going well I might press hard and maybe even run some flats. But the #1 goal was simply to finish, and not to do anything stupid that would jeopardize that.
Start to Mile 4: I am such a novice, obviously. My packing really sucked. No sweater. Seriously, I wore a work sweater to the start and then put it in a baggie to collect at the finish. I sat on my baggie waiting for the start because I hadn't brought any plastic bags. My feet were getting wet from the heavy fog, and I had no foot baggies. I hadn't thought I would get thirsty and anyway I have problems with low salt, so I hadn't brought any water but had brought some salty snacks.
The race started downhill. I ran. The race went uphill, and I walked, but my heart rate was down near 150 bpm. I was pretty sure that I could sustain 170 bpm through the race, and I knew from the 10k that going up to 182 bpm was something that I could recover from and continue to perform. So I ran uphill. I ran up to 182, walked and wogged down toward the 160s, and then ran again.
At mile four I had a small asthma attack. I have mild asthma, mild enough that I forget that I have asthma most of the time. I had thought that I should pack my albuterol, but thinking was as far as it went. The attack resolved and I continued.
In the Miami event, miles 1 - 6 went by in the blink of an eye. This time, these four miles lasted forever. It felt like it was going to be a really, really long day.
Miles 4 - 9: These miles broke out of Golden Gate Park and onto the first long street (photo above). Seeing that long open street made me very happy. Running in the twists and turns of Golden Gate Park just wasn't my thing that morning. I ran and I wogged and the miles went by really fast.
Mile 9: My back cramped up. My legs felt heavy. I felt heavy. I didn't have the underfoot nerve pain that I had in Miami, but that was the only part of my body that didn't hurt. Even my cheeks on my face felt funny from this running business. My hamstrings and my quads started cramping up. I hurt. I wanted to quit. I wanted to find a way to get to my hotel room without hurting. I slowed way down. I thought of all the ways I could quit; practical matters about how to quit. You can see the sudden dip in my heart rate on my GPS ticker (link in the statistics section). I started counting the time until I could quit at the finish line- One more hour! And reasoning with myself that I was more than half-way there: 2.5 hours done! In Miami it was about the miles. I crashed at mile 10 and I thought about how many times I've walked three miles and that I could do it that day. This time it was about how many minutes of suffering were left. I decided I wasn't allowed to quit unless I physically could not put one foot in front of the other. Even if it took two more hours to get to the finish line, there was no reason not to go to my hotel via that route.
Miles 10 - 12: I walked. I wogged. I shuffled. I limped. I stopped and stretched. I watched my heart rate go lower and lower on my monitor. The heart rate monitor was one of the main things that made me keep going- I say that in training I just do what my heart rate monitor tells me to do, and it was saying that I could so do this.
The lower bit of my vertical anterior tendon (which has put me on crutches before) in my right ankle was very angry and I was fearing injury. It had been the left hip and left upper vertical anterior tendon that I had been worried about before the race. I wished I had brought a second package of blocs, in particular the caffinated kind. I ate the caffinated the second half of the Miami and I will never forget them again, amen.
A lot of people were limping around me. Seriously, I thought that some of them really should quit; they looked injured. As far as I know none of the people who were with me quit. And a lot of people were doing well and 400 or more relatively together people passed me. A lot of them said encouraging things and bless them for that. Cheering people shouted encouragement and used my name, both of which actually really do help a lot. A lot of high fives, which didn't happen at all in Miami. I ended up touching a lot of strangers by the time this race was over. Mile 12 headed into the baseball park where Barry Bonds was going to try to tie the home-run record, so the crowd was streaming into that. And they wanted to high-five runners and they couldn't tell the half-marathoners from the full-marathoners and just treated us like celebrities instead of the slowest of fourteen thousand.
Miles 12 to Finish: Mile 13 came around the other side of the park and even though the street was straight and the finish was near, something made the finish impossible to see. It was extremely frustrating and I couldn't understand it. Perhaps there is a slight rise in the road. I could see that the time was 3:27 and that it was entirely possible that I might make 3:30, but at the same time I just didn't really care any more.
Then I could see the finish and it was 3:29. I started to run, which I didn't even know was possible any more. My right calf was working on a cramp, but once I started to run I didn't want to stop. High fives from random people lining the finish. And then I crossed the line and remembered not to grab for the off button on my timer so that there would be a nice finish photo. And then I was across the mats and instead of having things crowded right there like the Miami Marathon had, there was a big open space and I wasn't sure what to do next.
The medical people came and asked if I was okay, and I said that I was and kept walking and then at the far end of the pen was the place to turn in the timing chip and get the medal. And food!!! I don't drink, but I have tasted mohitos and randomly on my long runs I sometimes have mohito cravings. They were handing out a mohito flavor sports drink! It was divine!!
Random Stuff: I overheard several conversations about how I ran from other runners. Technical stuff about how I was using my muscle groups, but generally resolving in an agreement that the way I run is "cute." I have never heard a runner say that another runner runs "cute." Hmmmm.
After
Rest of the Day and the Next: I sat down and had a little rest, hoping that would make the walk I had to do next easier. I had thought that there was nothing wrong with taking a taxi the six blocks uphill to my hotel, but the traffic was so bad with people leaving their hotels that it was difficult to negotiate and all the taxis were taken anyway. So up the hill I went, with frequent breaks and even though I couldn't cross the streets in time for the lights I figured the medal around my neck was sort of a good explanation for that, and indeed no one honked at me.
Shower, one-hour nap, taxi to the train, train to Palo Alto. Shuffled into town pulling my suitcase and had sushi and ice cream, and then called another taxi to take me to my friend's house for the night. The next morning off to the airport, where I shuffled down the boarding ramp for my first plane of the day, but couldn't face it for the second plane and walked down the ramp backwards. Presently, I am typing in a chaise lounge and when I try to get up my legs will be locked up once more and I'll just fall into bed here.
Recovery: I feel about the same as I did after the Miami half-marathon in terms of soreness and stiffness, although I don't have the extreme exhaustion. I may be slightly tired, but nothing major. I did use a lot more body-glide, so I saved myself from the heart rate monitor wound this time around. I was sore until Wednesday evening. Thursday morning I woke up and could easily walk to to the toilet for the first morning. There was about one fabulous pain-free hour, and then a focused pain in my hips came up. The hip pain has continued into the following Wednesday.
Analysis: I really feel like an endurance athlete. I stared down pain and won. Mile nine was a wrestle between the two of us that a more experienced athlete, indeed a more experienced me, wouldn't have wasted an entire mile on, but in the end I decided that I won. I was with a huge pack of people. Even though I was closer to last than I was in Miami, there were a lot more people around. And I ran. I felt like part of the runners. I am a runner. It feels completely bizarre not to correct people who mistakenly think I am a runner. I am a runner.
This is completely insane, but I do have a little bit of negativity in me. I put an enormous amount of effort into pushing hard through this race, not to mention all the training. And what I got was 10 minutes that I really should have gotten just from losing the 22 pounds. I have a long way to go, and what I got out of six months was 10 minutes.
The reason that is insane is that I am a person who couldn't walk as far as I could see 18 months ago. I couldn't walk more than 1/4 of a mile. I started training at 2 miles total per week. I did my first half-marathon six months ago. I ran nine miles without even meaning to run. Suddenly, accidentally, without meaning to be, I am a runner. This is an absolute miracle in my life.
A friend pointed out that this may be one of my most difficult periods of progress because I'm making a "gear shift" from walking to running. A huge amount of energy has to go into that gear shift, rather than actually reducing my time. After I get through this, then I might start seeing the time improvements that I'm looking for.
The other thing I am thinking is that this half-marathon was completely different from my last half-marathon. Completely different. So part of me says that it isn't just that I might not be physically ready to do a marathon in January 2008 as I am contemplating, but also that I have a lot left to learn from the half-marathon experience. However, it isn't like it is a static experience, I am a completely different athlete now from what I was six months ago, and I'll be completely different again in six months. So under that theory, I will never be done with the half-marathon. But at some point, I get to do a marathon anyway. So we'll see what happens January 2008.