My wife and I had people over for a BBQ the day before to celebrate our softball team's fairly good year, and I asked that everyone come over early so I could get to bed early and get a good nights sleep. I also had 6 or 7 beers to help me sleep. That part may have not been the best idea.
Come Sunday morning the alarm went off at 5:15, I geared up and grabbed my bag, and was on the road by 5:45. I had to avoid Lakeshore Dr as it was being shut down for the run, but that only added a few minutes to the commute. I stopped at McDonalds for a pre-race breakfast; I swear an Egg McMuffin really sounded like a good idea at the time. One truly good idea was paying the extra dollars for VIP parking: that got me into the YMCA South Side lot which was a block away from Jackson Park. I put on my bib, grabbed my Power Gels, and strolled over to the corrals.
As I got to corral D, it was very obvious that the weather wanted everyone to run a PR. It was perfect! My concerns about it being chilly we gone - it was in the low sixties, and looked to warm up to the low seventies by the end of the race. Not to cold, but not going to get hot either, and not a cloud in the sky. I ate my first double caffeinated Power Gel and waited for the fun/torture to start.
The first 4.5 miles were winding around Jackson park, but they lead to Lakeshore Dr, and the pack really opened up. It was very nice to know you had a straight shot where didn't have to worry about an inside track, and could spread out with the other runners. It was also a good time to eat another Power Gel (vanilla this time - a boy can only have so much caffeine).
I fell in with some runners of a similar pace that were keeping me honest for the next few miles. Then, around mile 6.5 I realized that my nonchalance with my nutrition had finally gotten the better of me. I'm not sure if it was the Power Gels, the McDonalds hash brown, or the beer the day before (hint - all of the above), but something inside of me was angry. I've dealt with things like this before, and I've always been able to keep it under control and finish my run. I thought I'd probably be able to do the same today, but it was going to really slow me down, so I enacted plan B. Lucky for me, plan B simply involved making it to the Port-a-potty that I could see in the distance right on the course for idiots like me. I pulled into the pits at mile 7.5, and 2 minutes later I was out again. I felt much better, but was quite angry that I had wasted precious minutes do to poor planning. I increased my pace for a quarter mile, but decided to slow back to my original pace if I was going to be consistent at the end. I also decided it was time for my last Power Gel, double caffeine and all.
Pulling into the last few miles, mental fatigue was kicking in. I was going through all of my tricks to keep my pace up: tracking every .01 of a mile as I went, trying to ignore my mileage for a quarter mile at a time, counting steps, singing along to ridiculous 90's ska under my breath. The one thing that kept me going strong was remembering my 20 miles on the treadmill. It takes a lot more mental strength to run long distances out doors without screens for distraction and drink in arms reach. I think of treadmill running as cheating, but it does something very important: it shows me what I am physically capable of. I know that I ran a 6:50 mile for my 20th mile because I turned that machine up, and saw what the dials said. Now, I knew I could turn up my pace because my legs had done it before. With that knowledge, my last mile was at a 7:00 pace.
As I looked back at my time, with the obvious exception of my pit stop, my miles were very consistent. The marathon is still another month away, and I'm going to try and cram in some last minute endurance training, but I'm very happy with my fitness level right now, and like how things are progressing. And any morning is a good morning when it ends with beer and pizza.
