Having finally brought myself back into decent shape last year, just in time for there to be no races to run, I did run the virtual version of the Eugene Half Marathon. Having done that, it occurred to me that it had been ten years or so since I’d run the Boston Marathon (2013). Eh, what the heck, maybe run Boston again? Well, I’d have to qualify first. Having run Eugene before, it seemed the obvious choice. Relatively small, relatively close to home, and there’s a hotel three blocks from Hayward Field right on the marathon course. One can walk right down the street on race day, and have a short walk to get back. No driving, no shuttles. No, I’m not telling you where it is.
But first I had to train for it. I had previously done the Pfitzinger marathon plan that tops out at 55 miles/week. That was back when I had to go to an office every day. I work from home most days now, so I just run in the middle of the day. No months of dark Pacific Northwest winter morning training runs. So I decided to bump it up to the 70 mile/week plan. Meh, if I couldn’t hack it, I could always dial it back.
But 70 miles/week turned out to be doable. That’s not to say I wasn’t constantly tired, and eating everything in the pantry. I was, but that’s what recovery weeks are for. I ran a few tune-up races to get a rough prediction of what I could run for a marathon time, tossed in some of the traditional 20 miles runs (with one 22 miler in there for good measure), called it good.
One open question was: what shoes to wear for the marathon? I usually just pick a light trainer and use that. But I’d heard a lot about those carbon-plated shoes, pricey little buggers that they might be. $250 for a shoe that lasts a couple hundred miles? But the Nike Vaporflys, the ones I had my eye on, have a luxuriously thick mid-sole. “Ya know, I’m a man of means, $250 won’t break the bank, and I’m not going to my grave ignorant to the wonders of sproingy race shoes.” One giant hit to the credit card later, and Nike whisked them to my house. Now, I was completely ready to be disappointed, and to find out that the shoes only really work for elite pros who run 5:00 miles. But at least I’d know that my days of justifying the use of pro equipment are over.
When they arrived, I laced them up and took off for a tempo workout. And you know what? Holy shit, they actually work. One does have to pick up the pace to get any good out of them. You can’t be out there pounding fence posts with your feet. But once I got them under 8:00/mile, they kind of lit up. I equated it to a hydrofoil boat that sits on its hull most of the time, but at speed it lifts out of the water. And they’re cushy as can be.
On Friday, we dropped the dog at the vet for boarding, threw the gear in the car, all that was left was the driving. Oh, the driving. I-5 is the north-south corridor for the west coast. It is also the Devil’s own highway. Always full of traffic, boring as hell (with a few exceptions), and there are no alternatives that don’t add multiple hours to the trip. But five hours later we finally arrived at The Motel That Shall not Be Named. After check-in, it was off to The Graduate hotel to pick up our race numbers.
Mike’s race was on Sunday, but first we had to have Katherine’s Eugene debut in the 5K on Saturday. Katherine was just going to walk it, but we have to at least get pictures in front of Hayward Field.
Katherine killed it at a 15:00/mile pace for a 47:47 finish. Here are her complete results.
Once Katherine was done, it was just a matter of trying not to trip over a curb and resting up before the next morning. With a 7:00 a. m. start, the alarm was set for 5:00.
A bowl of instant oatmeal and a banana for breakfast, as I do, and I suited up.
The walk to the start is maybe three blocks, which makes for a nice warmup. I still ran around a little bit to get the legs moving, but it’s a marathon, a lot of warmup isn’t needed. Then we stood around for ten minutes, and it was time to go.
Rule #1 of just about any race, and especially a marathon, is “don’t start too fast”. For the first few miles, I thought had yet again ignored that rule, but try as I might, I couldn’t keep the pace any slower. After about five or six miles, I figured that was just my pace today, I felt comfortable, so I just kept clicking off 7:10-7:15 miles, when I really expected more like 7:25. Who knows? Maybe I can beat my 3:11 time from ten years ago. The last race I ran, a 10K, predicted a possible 3:12 marathon time, so beating last time wasn’t unrealistic. It just wasn’t likely.
There just isn’t much to say for a lot of the race, other than that Eugene has the best running spectators. For a town of its size, it seemed like everybody came out for the marathon. There were few spots along the course that didn’t have at least one or two people cheering me along. Otherwise, I kept moving along anywhere from 7:15-7:20, right past the half marathon mark. My usual marathon game plan is to keep the planned pace, no matter how great I feel that day. If I get to 20 miles and still feel good, then let ‘er rip. I I moved closer toward that 20 mile mark, I was feeling like I was so going to release the hounds when I got there.
Those Oakley sunglasses were nice to have the first ten miles of the race, but then the sun went behind the clouds, and I didn’t need them anymore. The sunglasses were oddly fogging up a bit, so I just stashed them in the handy pockets of my shorts. Man, trail shorts with pockets, what a great idea. What a better idea it is to run a marathon in them. Into the pocket the glasses went, and maybe I could dump them with Katherine if I saw her. I figured I might see her somewhere near the motel, which wasn’t far from Hayward. I finally did see her, just not quite where I expected, and got rid of the glasses. Unlike a Wellsley college girl, my spouse offered no kiss.
I would see Katherine one more time sometime before the 16 mile mark. There was a band on a street corner playing James Brown shortly before this video was taken.
I’d put at least 50 miles on those Nike Vaporflys before the marathon. They have these kind of lumpy laces, which I suppose is to help keep them from coming untied. It must work, as I’d never had them come untied before the marathon. Keyword being: before. At about mile 18 I felt that familiar flip-flap of laces smacking the opposite leg. No worries, I’d lose a bit to the retie, but otherwise not the end of the world. Except is was chilly that morning, and my cotton gardening gloves were just keeping my fingers warm. When I went to tie the shoes, the fingers didn’t want to work. Once, twice, third time was a charm getting them tied. It was 45 seconds lost, but I’m not in contention for much of anything anymore, I’m on pace to easily qualify for the Boston Marathon, what difference could it possibly make?
You know that “release the hounds” that was going happen at mile 20? Oh, it was still going to happen when mile 19 rolled around. I was still feeling good, still waving to the crowds, having a great time. People in the crowd were actually commenting on how good I looked. My form was still good, still on my forefoot, still activating that carbon plate in the shoes. Mile 20 rolled around, and I thought maybe waiting a mile or two was the wise move. By mile 23, my hounds had turned to chihuahuas, and it was a matter of getting to the finish line without losing pace. I did manage to pull that off, slowing by about 10 seconds/mile those last three miles.
I’d run this course before, and all I was looking for were familiar landmarks. Under that bridge, by the motel, and Hayward is just ahead. Turn the corner, and onto the new track, and…wow, that new track is springy…to the finish line. A 3:13:06 beats the Boston qualifying time by over 20 minutes, so I guess I can safely book the hotel room. As I hobbled back to the hotel room with Katherine, I considered how good a Dairy Queen Blizzard was going to taste later.