On Oct 1, 2017 I ran my second marathon; the Corning Wineglass. Many of those who may read this account of Wineglass 2017 are aware of my first marathon experience (aka the Herald Of Victory death march). For those who are not, let's just say it was in May of 2016 and it didn't go well. I managed a time of 5:48:44 in blistering heat. I had to avenge that experience and I decided that the Wineglass Marathon was going to be my redemption race. This would be my opportunity, if things went well, to claim a more respectable time for my Marathon PR.
My training went significantly better for this marathon. My brother help tweak my plan (a plan that has been passed among, and tweaked by, Early Air runners for many years). The main change was the introduction of a more significant, repeating pattern of 3 build weeks followed by a week of relative rest. This pattern built up to two consecutive ~50 miles peak weeks each including a 20-mile long run. Drew and I ran the long runs together and both went very well. I also spent a lot of time after the HOV marathon doing plank exercises to strengthen my core muscles, and doing squats and lunges to strengthen my legs. The net effect was that I felt confident and strong going into the marathon.Drew and I drove up to Corning on Friday evening, picked up our bibs and perused the expo for a little while. Drew left to go back home and I met my wife and one of my daughters at the hotel, we went out for a quick bite to eat and an early bedtime.
Saturday morning was drizzly and cool. I got up early and ran 2 easy, shakeout miles before breakfast. It felt great. After breakfast, Barb, Nikki and I drove the course. Nikki was amazed with the 35+ porta-johns at the start line. We stopped at a couple of the places where we expected they'd be able to see me and Drew pass by. I was glad we took that drive. I remembered a lot more of the course the next day than I expected to. That evening we went to church in Corning and had a nice light dinner at Applebee's.
My daughter Cheryl arrived from Brockport while Barb and Nikki went back home to get Jen who was coming home from the McQuaid cross-country tournament in Rochester. As I was getting ready for bed Cheryl was giving me a hard time about all the lists I was making and leaving all over the room. I got everything laid out and went to bed. I slept better than I expected to, but there was plenty of waking up and looking at the clock.
When I left the hotel on race day morning the air was clear and crisp. The stars were bright in a cloudless night sky. I drove drove over to Corning and found a parking spot a couple blocks from the boarding area where the buses waited to take runners from the finish line in Corning to the start line in Bath. The car's thermometer read 33 degrees. As suggested by Drew, I wore sweatpants and a hoodie, gloves and a hat over my racing clothes. As suggest by Joanne I also wore homemade arm warmers made from old (clean) soccer socks. I was so nervous and excited that I didn't really feel the cold much as I walked from the parking lot to the bus area. I got on the bus and looked around for Drew but he hadn't arrived yet. As the bus pulled away I wondered how hard it was going to be to connect with Drew, so I prepared myself just in case we didn't connect.
It was dark on the bus as we rode along the highway. The bus was only about half full, most riders had seats to themselves. A few people were talking, just above whispers, about other marathons or kibitzing about race strategy, goals and training techniques. The majority of the riders were quiet, either sleeping or keeping their thoughts to themselves. I chewed on a bagel while I said a quiet prayer of thanksgiving and to reminded myself how fortunate I was to have the privilege to be able to run this day, a privilege that some of my friends, friends struggling with health issues, did not have. I quietly dedicated the effort I would make to them and thought again of my training mantra, "I get to run today". I was glad we drove out to Bath on Saturday because that prepared me for this bus ride; a ride that seemed to go on forever.
The bus arrived in Bath around 6:00am and the volunteers directed us down to the "heated" tent that was very near the start line. The only problem was that the heater wasn't working. After about 30 minutes, the cold and nerves started to get to me and I had a hard time keeping from shivering violently. I decided it was time to leave the tent and look for a heated building. Just as I walked out of the tent I ran into Drew on his way into the tent. I relaxed a little now, knowing that finding Drew at the start line was no longer an issue. There was less of a likelihood of making stupid mistakes in the first few miles with Drew pacing me. By about 6:45am they had the heater replaced and it started to get a little more comfortable in the tent. Outside the tent it was still around 34 degrees and the thermometer would stay right there until after the start of the race.
As the buses continued to arrive, the tent got more than a little crowded and all personal space disapeared. Drew grabbed a couple seats and advised me to get off my feet. I don't remember his exact words but they were along the lines of "Hey dufus, you're going to be on your feet for more than 4 hours. We have two hours before the race starts. SIT DOWN!" So Drew and I sat and chatted, only occasionally being interrupted by a passing fanny hitting one of us in the side of the head due to the lack of room in the isle ways. Dr. Mindy walked by and stopped to talk with us for a while. We didn't see Chris but he told me later he was warmly dressed in a parka, hat, gloves, etc (two gear bags worth of winter gear) and was warming up outside the tent.
As the start time approached I took off the sweatpants and hoodie and donned a garbage bag which I hoped would trap a little body heat. We put our nice warm clothes into the gear bags and handed them off to the UPS truck. I wasn't happy at that point. We headed for a last pitstop in porta-john-alley. There was a little breeze and I was soooo cold as I waited in line. I wasn't sure I'd ever warm up again.
We walked to the start line with the other 2,998 runners. I was amazed with the size of the crowd. There were runners as far as I could see. We worked our way up to where the 4:20 pacing group leader was standing and waited. After the commercial message from the race sponsor (that went on WAY too long given the temperature, the sound system and the interest level of the assembled mass of humanity) and the singing of the national anthem the gun was fired and we started the race. It was 8:15am. As we walked up to the start line (took about two minutes after the gun) I could barely feel my feet. Those first few running steps were stiff and painful but in about a quarter mile my feet felt close to normal. Things warmed up very quickly after that. It was great running with Drew. We did exactly what we had planned, starting out at about 10min pace for a mile and slowly worked up into our grove of about 9:35 over the span of miles 2 and 3.
By mile 2, there was a long trail of discarded garments along the road often creating trip hazards for anyone running on the edge of the herd. Running in the center was equally dangerous because there were orange traffic cones that you couldn't see until you were on them. I managed to navigate all of the obstacles without falling and discarded my garbage-bag-tunic, and homemade arm warmers. I took off the base layer shirt I was wearing at the start and was carrying it. The sun was coming out every few minutes making for a bright cheery morning but then would it duck back behind a bank of morning fog.
I was looking forward to the mile 3 mark because I knew that was the first opportunity to see my family and Joanne and Ken. They did not disappoint us. They cheered us on and I threw my sweaty baselayer shirt to one of my daughters. Drew and I motored on. I was feeling confident and comfortable.We ran the next few miles in cool, foggy, morning air. I could see that the sun was up but it had not yet burned off the fog, which was fine by me. Drew and I just clocked through the miles at a pretty consistent 9:35 pace, grabbing a little water at the water stops and waving to the cars and trucks that honked at the runners from the highway.
Around mile 6 when Drew decided it was time to make a pitstop. He told me just to stay in the groove and he'd catch up. I did just that and, before I knew it, Drew had caught up to me and was telling me about his altercation at the porta-john, how he channeled his inner Joanne and told the impatient runner to... well that's his story. Anyway he ran an 8:40 mile or so to catch up to me and I was happy to have the company again (and a little jealous that he was able to do that).
We continued along, clocking our 9:35 miles and saw the Limers and Weirs again around mile 13. I heard Ken suggest that maybe we could improve our pace a little. Drew responded with a hand gesture I didn't recognize and I can only assume was an ancient Early Air acknowledgement of thanks for the advice. We continued to motor along. Occasionally Drew would regale me with a story of running the Wineglass with Vince, but mostly we were satisfied to enjoy the scenery and appreciate the great weather.
As we passed one waterstop, I don't know which one, maybe mile 16, there were volunteers offering bananas, coffee, cookies, as well as GU, water and gatorade. I thought to myself, bananas and coffee were strange things to offer runners, but later I would regret not grabbing a banana as I went by. The potassium may have been helpful.By mile 18 my left quad was beginning to hurt. It felt like there was a rock in the middle of the muscle fiber. It was totally manageable at first but it progressively got worse. I slowed a little and tried to figure out how to manage it more effectively. Drew continued on, maybe even picking up the pace a little now. He had gotten me started well and through the two big "hills" on the course and it was time for him to run his own race.
I noticed more and more runners stopping and stretching on the side of the road. At one point, I was running a little behind a guy that pulled off, reach down to his calf muscles and fell over onto his back with a scream of pain. I flagged down the marshal that was just 100 yards or so further down the road and told him someone needed some help. A few minutes later another runner caught up to me (there were a lot of people catching up to me at this point) and he let me know that the guy was being attended to.
My right quad was starting to join in the party and both legs starting to hurt a lot. I realized how little Gatorade I drank up to that point (and thought about the missed banana opportunity). I figured the cool day may have caused a number of folks to opt for water over gatorade and maybe that was accounting so many people stretching out cramped legs. So for the remainder of the water stops I began drinking two and occasionally 3 cups of gatorade. I must have also been dehydrated too because all that fluid did not make me need a porta-john stop.
I saw my family and the Weirs again around mile 20. We were back into the city and it was starting to get a little warm. I was SOOO glad I followed everyone's advice and, though it was cold at the start line, I wore shorts and a tshirt. I got a much needed boost from seeing the familiar faces and getting the encouragement. I began to recover my pace a little.
...then the wheels came off...
I was going up a minor incline over a bridge of some sort, it might have been around mile 22, and my quads and calf muscles just seized up. I have not had issues with cramps before so this was a startling, and unsettling experience for me. It stopped me in mid stride. I could not lift my legs. I walked for a few yards then I stopped and stretched as best I could. From that point on I began a walk/run mode that got me through the rest of the race. I was able to run a quarter of a mile or a half mile, maybe a little more then my legs would cramp up again. When I was running I was still able to do 9:45s or so. I just couldn't keep that up without the legs cramping up. I'd walk through a water stop, drink gatorade, run strong for a little bit, cramp up and then have to walk and stretch. I wasn't thrilled with the situation but I seemed to be maintaining my position in the pack so I didn't panic.
As I turned on to Bridge street I came to the realization that I was going to make it. I figured I had a pretty good time going even with the walking and, aside from leg cramps, I was feeling pretty good. My goal was to break 5 hours (HOV was a 5:48+) and my stretch goal was to break 4:30. As I crested the bridge and saw the Market street turn, I decided I was done walking and I was going to run the rest of the way in (another sub-goal of mine was to actually run across the finish line this time). I remembered someone telling me (maybe it was Tim Rent) that the brain quits before the legs do and my brain wasn't done yet.
I turned on to Market and that finish stretch is everything everyone told me. There were people lining both sides of the road. I saw my family again which pumped me up. Then... I saw the clock... It read 4:58:45. I couldn't believe it! I couldn't figure out where I lost all the time, but I was damn sure I was still going to beat 5 hours! I poured everything I had into the last 100 yards or so and crossed the finish line. Drew was right there waiting for me and was the first to congratulate me. I told him about the clock and he explained that I was looking at half-marathon clock. The Marathon clock was on the other side of the road. My official time was a 4:26:30. So I went directly over to the PR bell and gave it a solid ring.
Things get a little fuzzy for me here, but as I recall it, Drew showed me where the medals were being handed out. I put my head down to let the volunteer put it around my neck, and, all the sudden, I got light headed and almost fell over. Someone grabbed my arm, and someone gave me a mylar blanket then Drew and I went over to get some fluid and food. Ken, Joanne and my family came over to congratulate us. It was awesome in every sense of the word. I was on a an extraordinary runner's high. That part I remember well.Will I run another marathon? I'm not sure. It's not in the cards at the moment. It takes such an awful lot of time and if I want to improve, I think I'd need to strengthen my legs quite a bit and that would require even more time and effort. I am not, however, someone that will ever say never. Steamtown might be nice and I'd come back to Corning if I had a mind to abuse myself this way again someday. I can't thank everyone in Early Air enough for the encouragement, advice, and for being such great training mentors and partners. The long runs don't seem so long and the miles seem to roll by more easily when you have a group of people with you that literally "got the T-shirts" and sincerely want you to do well. That is something I'll always love about this group. Lisa, Drew... I'll be there to help with your Boston training.
