i set my alarm to wake at 830a to watch the marathon just in case i didn’t wake up naturally.   which was a possibility, since our halloween party didn’t wind down until 300a  (or was it really 200a with the time change?)  however, i was so excited to watch the race that i woke before the alarm went off.

although my excitement for this race was enough to get me out of bed early, not everyone in boston shares my passion because no boston tv stations carried the marathon.  apparently watching people run for 2.5 hrs doesn’t bring in good ratings.  instead, i brewed my first cup o’ java and fired up the macbook to watch the race online.  what a great way to start november.

the men’s field featured a lot of talent — both american and international.   the american golden boy, ryan hall, shouldered most of the hopes of running community in trying to become the first american since alberto salazaar to win the nyc marathon.  however, he was up against several past boston, chicago, and nyc winners.

hall ran a much more conservative race than he did at boston, heeding his friend, meb keflezghi’s advice not to get sucked into the excitement of first ave and go out too fast.  hall got dropped at mile 19 while meb was still in the hunt.   meb and robert cheriuyot eventually separated themselves from the pack for the run through central park.  meb beat out mr boston himself (cheriuyot) to put the red, white, and blue on the top of the podium for the first time since 1982.  as meb finished off the race, he waved to the crowd and pointed to the three letters on his jersey “USA.”  after breaking the tape, he fell to the ground and gave tribute several times to god and country.

in addition to winning the race, american distance runners earned 6 of the top 10 spots.  not too shabby.

the women were no slouches either.  the overwhelming favorite was the paula radcliffe, three time nyc winner and women’s world record holder in the marathon.  the women’s lead held a slow pace, probably because the women afraid to lead paula for fear that she might strike back with a blistering pace.  but paula obviously struggled and was dropped from the lead pack around mile 20.  37 year old tulu from ethopia beat out 40 year old petrova of russia for the win.

my favorite point of the women’s race came around mile 20 when the race announcer commented on the women’s lead pack of four.  he said, “all of the women in this pack are older than 30 and are all mothers.”

photo from ny times

that struck me as pretty amazing.  for female professional athletes, child birth means taking a year off from competing and taking additional time to build up their fitness after their child’s birth.  brings new meaning to the term “working mother.”

 

everett ruess, a poet and wanderer, vanished in southern utah in the 1930s.  his disappearance mystified his family and community.

ruess’s story resurfaced when jon krauker wrote about him in his famous book, “into the wild.”  krauker retold ruess’s story because it seemed to be the same one that krauker’s main character, christopher mccandless lived out in the tundra of alaska. 

unlike mccandles, however, ruess’s body was never found and therefore his mystery still continued.   as david roberts reported in the april/may issue of national geographic adventure, a group of interested parties (ruess’s nephew, FBI agents, DNA specialists) believed they may have found ruess’s body. 

roberts implored a forensic anthropologist, dennis van gerven,  to look into the human remains that were believed to be ruess.  according the the roberts’s article:

Finally, at the end of February, Van Gerven phoned me with his verdict. “All the lines of evidence converge,” he said. “This guy was male. Everett was male. This guy was about 20 years old. Everett was 20 years old. This guy was about five foot eight. Everett was five eight.

“Everett had unique facial features, including a really large, jutting chin. This guy had the same features. And the bones match the photos in every last detail, even down to the spacing between the teeth. The odds are astronomically small that this could be a coincidence.”

or so we thought as of may 2009.   a new york times article printed earlier this week is reporting otherwise.  based on the analysis of the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology lab (believed to be the pre-eminent authority on DNA testing), the remains where not that of everett ruess. 

thus now begins the reconciliation of accounts between the two findings.

does the outcome really matter?   probably not, but at least it makes for an interesting story.

this past sunday i ran my first marathon — the marine corps marathon in washington, dc.  the following is my weekend race report.

friday.  525pm. we took a flight down to reagan national in the world’s smallest plane.  i was paranoid that i would catch the swine flu at the airport that would prohibit me from running.  my worst fear – train for 5mths for this single day only to have it foiled by some guy that didn’t wash his hands.

saturday. 1230pm. without any symptoms of the swine flu, we headed over the runner’s expo to pick up my bib number and really ugly baby blue mock neck tee.  seriously, marines don’t wear baby blue mock necks.  neither should marine corps marathon runners.

(oh i see now, you gave me an ugly race tshirt so i would buy one of your brooks commemorative tshirts.  ok, it worked. )

we perused the expo checking out every running gimmick imaginable.  i used to think that running was a simple sport, requiring only a pair of shoes, shorts, tshirt, and maybe a watch.  i now realize that to be a real runner i need technical shirts, gps watches, power gels, waist packs, training manuals, and i need to travel to antarctica to run a marathon.  yikes.

we steered of the gimmicks and steered clear of the samples of power bars and smoothies.  again, i was still paranoid about swine flu and introducing foreign foods to my stomach.  the day before race day is no time to experiment with cliff bars new cola flavored shot bloks!

score of the day:  pace band.  clif bar sponsored pace groups during the race (which i didn’t not utilize) and also gave out sweatproof wrist bands with mile by mile splits with target times.  i picked up a pace band for a 4:30 finish.  this was critical!  (subsequently, i found a site that you can make your own.)

saturday.  630pm. pasta dinner at the hotel.  super convenient and a nice place to meet other runners.   we met a 65 year old woman at the door that was running her 6th marathon and her daughter was running her 1st.  we spoke about running boston and she said, “i think my qualifying time is 4:30. i think i can run that tomorrow, maybe i’ll run boston.”  so nonchalant.  i, on the other hand, have my qualifying time permanent etched into my brain and will have to bust my hump to make it.   hope i’m as strong as her when i am 65.

sunday.  430a. alarm goes off and i immediately think, “not only am i crazy enough to run 26.2 miles, but i’m crazy enough to wake up at 430a to do it.”  i eat a 1/2 pop tart, 1/2 bagel, banana, granola bar, gatorade, and cup of tea.  (that’s 650 calories, if you’re counting).    out the door at 6am.

we walk over to the start, passed the pentagon.  it’s eerie to walk in the dark past the pentagon.  we file in a line with thousands of other people.  we see marines and the flashing blue lights of cop cars.  it looks like a scene from “the siege” and we’re all being escorted to internment camps.

we find our way to the starting area and sit down to wait.  i’m shivering because it’s cold and i’m nervous.  i use the bathroom twice, but i’m sure it won’t be enough.

sunday. 800a. the gun goes off, but i don’t move.  the pack starts to slow inch forward and i move toward the start.  i walk toward the start and make small talk with a woman that has ran 25 marathons.   we cross the starting line, i start my watch.  it’s go time.

for the first two miles, i run with this woman and talk.  i feel like we’re going slow, but it’s crowded and i don’t rush.  after mile 2, i can see i’m already two minutes behind my splits.  what the hell?!  i ditch the small talk — i actually want to run this thing!

i start moving ahead, passing many people along the way.  the first few miles through rosslyn have some nice up and down hills. the scenery was beautiful with streets lined with trees in their best autumn attire.  i push up the hills and stride out the down hills.  i make good time because by the time i hit the georgetown reservoir, i’m back on pace.  we head into georgetown and the crowd gets thicker.  i pass a table with a guy yelling “mimosas! mimosas if you stop now!”

i’m really feeling my groove now.  the crowd is yelling and cheering.  bands are playing.  i’m moving along, not noticing that i’m running but just soaking in the crowd.  i’m enjoying every moment and smiling as i run.  i check my pace band at every mile just to keep me focused. 

i hit mile 10 and i’m 2:30 min ahead of my pace when i see my husband.  he yells, “kristyn is a few minutes ahead” and hands me a twizzler.  he says it in a way that makes it sounds like he’s disappointed in me for running so slow.   what?!  i’m 2 minutes ahead of pace and it’s not fast enough?  i thought i was making good time.   i choke on my twizzler.

for the next three miles, i’m yelling at my husband for yelling at me.  it totally broke my stride.  but, i still speed up even more determined to move ahead.

around mile 12 i watch a girl puke.  i watch girls and boys stop along the roadside to pee.  (it’s not everyday you see hundreds of people peeing on national monuments.)

at mile 13 the marines are handing out cliff shots and yelling out the flavors as you pass, “i got lemon line” another says, “i got strawberry.”  i heard one marine say “i got mocha” and i cringe.  then i hear, “i got mocha but i don’t recommend it!”  exactly.

i head onto the national mall and i hit my mental trough.  in my training runs, i usually go through a funk around mile 15 or 16, so i was expecting it during the race.  like clockwork, i hit the funk just after mile 15.  the crowds thin out a little so i couldn’t rely on them to pull me through.  i kept contemplating talking to another runner. i wanted to say to them, “hey, my name is sara.  tell me i’m awesome and i’m going to finish this thing.”  i never find the energy to ask someone to say it.

as the course leaves the national mall, i leave the mental funk.  i hit mile 20 and see my husband.  he is smiling, which tells me i’ve caught up to my friends and i’m doing well.  he offers twizzlers but i wave him off since my stomach has been bothering me the last few miles.

as the pack crosses over a bridge at mile 20, i start getting excited. the sun in beating down on us now and i can feel my dehyration headache setting in.  i know i’m close, but the rest of the runners are hurting — you can sense the everyone starting to hit the wall.  i think to myself, “ok, you’ve trained up to this point, the rest of the race is on guts.”   i figured that i would hit the wall around mile 22 and have to gut out the final 4 miles. 

i was right.  my hamstrings started cramping at mile 22 and my stomach started rebelling mile 23.  i was still three minutes under my goal time at this point, but i knew i was quickly losing pace and knew i would use up every one of those minutes in the last three miles.   i thought about stopping to use a porta potty but i knew i was so close to the finish.  miles 23 through 25 were terrible. i hurt.

finally, at mile 25 i decided to stop.  i felt like a fool using the bathroom so close to the finish, but i was in severe pain.  i made a quick stop and started running.  it definitely helped and i wished i would have stopped a few miles earlier.

at mile 26 i could hear the finish, but couldn’t see it.  the course turned a corner and surged uphill to finish at the iwo jima memorial.  (what sick soul put the finish of a marathon at the top of a hill?!)  a man sprinted by me during the last 0.2mi and without thinking, i followed.   my watch read 4:29:22.  done.  under 4:30.  i’ll take it. 

i remember a time that i would have been embarrased by running a 10:18 mile in a race.  but i ran 26 of them in a row.  i’m proud of that.

post finish.  i crossed the finish and a young woman in marine fatigues handed me a space blanket.   she said, “congratulations” and it made me tear up.  i hadn’t expected her to say that and it was a reminder what we had accomplished.  i thought about the adidas boston marathon advertisement that said, “real superheroes wear silver capes.”

walking was difficult immediately after the race.  for 4.5 hrs, my legs were moving at a very consistent pace and changing that motion was difficult.    my hamstrings were pulsing with pain as we were funneled through chutes to get our medals.  it hurt to stand upright. 

a marine draped a medal around my neck and said, “congratulations.”  

that’s why i ran this race.

you can tell that the nyc marathon is next weekend because the new york times have been running (no pun intended) several marathon and running stories over the last month.

the latest article is a rather interesting story about a couple 8 and 9 year olds that ran the nyc marathon before the minimum age requirement was established.    one of these kids ran a 2:38 PR at the age of 15.  wow.  (please also note that he was from missouri.  no surprise there. )

at any point in the last 3 years, i have been missing a toe nail.  my hobbies – ice climbing, hiking, and running – are the culprits.   long runs, kicking ice, and long descents with backpacks take their toll on the toe nails. 

i’ve had to adapt.  i paint the skin where the nail should be in order to disguise the lack of nail.   but, i adapt.  i don’t remove them! 

however, apparently, there are a few ultrarunners that do remove them.  surgically.   permanently. 

i heard about this phenomenon.  i first read about this practice on an online climbing forum.  then i watched in a documentary about badwater.  ok, i thought.  it’s a bit extreme, but whatever, only a few fringe people do this.

however, i saw  an article in the new york times today that talks about surgically removing toenails.  seriously?   it’s bad enough that people are resorting to this extreme measure, i find it hilarious that the nyt is reporting on it!  and reporting on it in the fashion & style section no less!

my favorite quote from the article:

Mark Macy, a fellow ultrarunner, used to tease Mr. Ulrich about his curious-looking toes. “It looks like he has a bunch of bald-headed little men at the end of his feet,” said Mr. Macy, a lawyer in Denver.

the marine corps marathon is this weekend and for those of you that can’t be there… you can follow along at home!

starting at 7am, there will be live video here:
http://www.flir.com/USMC/

and for those of you with friends in the race (i.e. ME) you can track your runners on this site:  (scroll to bottom)
http://www.marinemarathon.com/race_info/spectators.htm

you can also follow my twitter feed here http://twitter.com/thebigmo because i’ll probably throw up some tweets while i’m in dc…. but not while i’m running.  i’ll rely on my husband to do that for me  http://twitter.com/ChuckFactor

i have a few friends joining in on the excitement including my buddy patrick brennan over at http://www.brennansgulch.com/

i’m excited for this weekend!

we’ve seen some disconcerning news in the marathon circuit lately.  in the last month, three separate marathons have had deaths occur during their races:  san jose rock and roll, baltimore, and most recently, three deaths over the weekend in the detroit marathon. 

with all these deaths, i’m led to ask….. is marathoning more dangerous than before?  am i safe to run the marine corp marathon this sunday?

certainly, marathoning is becoming more popular these days and, logically, we will see more injuries and deaths with the increase in numbers.  but are these deaths just a result of the numbers game?  or are will missing a hidden risk?

runners world posted a Q&A with a cardiologist this morning in response to the detroit deaths.

oh, my saucony triumphs.  you were a good shoe.  together we pounded pavement for 350 miles.   we climbed many flights of stairs at harvard stadium.   we spent hours on the stairmaster together.   you helped me train for my denali expedition and my first marathon.  you withstood hundreds of hours of abuse without complaint.  i walked all over you yet you took it all in stride.

you were my favorite running shoe.  you were soft and cushiony, yet strong just when i needed your support.   unlike your cousin the hurricane, you were just snug enough to make my foot feel secure during those long, lonely runs.

thank you for your hard work.  i’m grateful for the time we’ve spent together.  you’ve helped me fall in love with running all over again.

now it’s time for you to move onto the great big running shoe heaven in the sky.

the fall major marathon season is in full swing with chicago being run this morning and nyc being run on november 1.

for the americans, the story for chicago was all about deena kastor.   deena returned from a long broken foot-induced hiatus today.   i was hoping she would be able to win chicago, as she has done in the past, but things didn’t go quite as she had hoped.  instead, several snafus with aid stations and a ill-timed bathroom stop kept the american record holder from bringing home another chicago victory.

despite the sixth place finish, she still seemed upbeat about her performance.

what is like to run for a D1, kick-ass, cross country team?

chris lear set out to answer this question in 1998.  he thought following a college xc team would make a great book though he couldn’t find a publishing company that agreed with him.   in 1998, without a publisher or a book deal,  he shadowed the university of colorado men and women’s cross country team. the team featured coach mark wetmore  (the only coach to win all four NCAA xc titles – M&W’s individual and MW’s team title) and their star, adam goucher.  lear then chronicled his experiences in the book “running with the buffaloes” which he then self-published.

i wanted to like this book.  after reading reviews about this book saying that it was “the best running book of all time” i had high expectations for the book.   however, just a few pages into the book i was pretty disappointed. the book is written in a journal format, which proved to be rather annoying and led me to concentrate on the writing rather than the story.  i was also disappointed with the focus (or, more appropriate, the obsession) on adam goucher.  goucher was the star of the team and understandably took most of the attention, but the book fawned over him, as did his coach and his team.   the entire book was goucher-focused and highlighted his personality, which painted him in a rather arrogant light.

however, half way through the book, i got hooked.  i fell in love with the characters and felt like i was part of the team.  finally, the story grabbed my attention and i forgot about my complaints.

the book really shows you what it is like to be a part of an elite college running program.  in the process, it taught me several great lessons about training and running.  specifically, it introduced me to the lydiard method and the amount of dedication necessary to be an elite athlete.

lydiard method:: coach mark wetmore was a believer of the lydiard method.  the basic building block of this training method is high mileage — usually over 100+ per week.  the high mileage leads to increased aerobic capacity which is then supplemented by hill workouts and speedwork.

reading this book coincided with some of the highest mileage weeks i’ve every run.  as i moved into the 40-45 miles per week range, i’ve noticed how my shorter runs are easier and faster.  i’m realizing how a solid base of miles can make running easier and more enjoyable.  i am starting to be a believer in high mileage.

dedication:: following these athletes gives the reader a sense of the dedication necessary to compete at the college level.  every aspect of their life affects their running performance.  the runners willing to sacrifice all areas of their life to get better were the most successful runners on the team.   goucher spoke about skipping classes and studying in order to get the proper amount of sleep.  the coach talked about limiting calorie intake to anoerxic levels in order to be leaner and faster.  absolutely EVERY aspect of their lives focused on running.

pain:: wetmore was quoted in saying, “Distance runners are experts at pain, discomfort, and fear. You’re not coming away feeling good. It’s a matter of how much pain you can deal with on those days. It’s not a strategy. It’s just a callusing of the mind and body to deal with discomfort. That’s the nature of their game. Taking pain.”

i love this quote.  you’re not going to run a marathon, win a race, or set a new PR without experiencing some pain.  running is about pushing your limits and teaching your body to accept and ignore pain.

after the rough start, i really got into this book.   i enjoyed the story line, but i also enjoyed the insights it offered.  i was able to take away several great lessons that can make me a better runner.