BodyGlide Your Butt. Detroit Marathon 2012

I learn something from every long race, and the Detroit Marathon was no exception. However, there seems to be a lesson that I keep failing to learn. Maybe this time it will stick, after sitting in a car for 5.5 hours directly afterwards (sans shower and still wearing running tights).

BodyGlide your butt.

For the uninitiated, BodyGlide is the balm of endurance athletes everywhere, offering the friction-blocking bliss of Vaseline without the other problems: rubbing off on your clothes, washing off with sweat and water, general greasiness. BodyGlide prevents chafing like no other substance, and is a wonderful invention. Perhaps now I will remember to use it EVERYWHERE. Detroit's other lessons have required a bit more thought to figure out.

The Detroit Marathon is unique, in that you run across the bridge to Canada, along the waterfront of Windsor, then back to the United States through a tunnel under the water. There are not very many races that cross international borders, and this one was close enough to home to be worth the drive. In addition, one of my favorite Navy buddies lives in Detroit, and it was a terrific opportunity to see him and finally meet his wonderful wife.

At the expo, I had to show a passport before collecting my bib -- no passport, no bib, and we had to take care of that Saturday. The race was on Sunday; I drove up Saturday, went to the expo, then headed for an early dinner with my friend. We had a wonderful visit, then I called it an early night and padded off to bed. The race organizers were advising runners to get downtown by 6 am to avoid possible traffic hassles, so it was going to be an early day.

Driving in Sunday, after bailing out early to avoid the sea of brake lights ahead, I found myself not knowing which way to turn. Thankfully, there were other "lost" runners as well, and I just followed them for a bit. I picked up a follower as well, and hoped I wouldn't get HIM lost. We stumbled upon some street parking that was perhaps four blocks from the finish. Perfect!

Followed more runners to the starting area, people-watched for a while, then finally gave up my jacket and gloves and checked my gear. Wandered to the start, enjoyed the energy of the crowd, and finally got into my starting corral. Like many races, Detroit seeds you based on your estimated finishing time, then starts each "wave" about two minutes apart. We all slowly shuffled up to the front (I'm always in the slower corrals), and there was lots of nervous chatter going on around me. Detroit also does something very unique: in addition to the full marathon, they offer two half-marathons. The "international" half follows the exact same route as the first half of the marathon, until veering off around mile 12.5 to finish. The "US-only" half starts later, and follows the second half of the marathon course, all in the United States. Clever. There were many first-time half- and full-marathoners, and it was fun to eavesdrop on their chatter.

Eventually it was our turn to start. It was just starting to get light out, but the sun hadn't fully risen. We made our way towards the Ambassador Bridge, about two miles away. As we got closer, I was really wishing I had dragged along a camera. The bridge is quite tall, so there is a long winding approach to it, about a mile long. It was a beautiful sight at that time of day. The approach was full of runners, and you could see them all the way up and going over the bridge, silhouetted in the morning sun. Beyond the bridge, the sun was just coming up over the horizon, a big orange orb low in the sky. All around was the skyline of Detroit, lots of water, and the skyline of Windsor, all in fall colors. There was lots of looking around, oohing and ahhing, and many runners stopped to take photos.

It felt a little strange, if liberating, to run right past the Customs officers with a wave, and past the cars and trucks that were waiting to go across the border. They had one lane open on the bridge, and took turns letting vehicles cross from either side. The truckers seemed to have a good time with it all, honking and waving to the runners (yes, they were waving, not...well, you know). For about a mile we had a spectacular view of the sunrise, water, and skylines.

For the most part, I felt good and was keeping a really good pace, but my legs were tired. This wasn't too terribly surprising, given my schedule this fall and the long drive up the day before, so I shrugged it off. Made a mental note to make sure I didn't forget to take in a gel every four miles or so.

We ran a little over two miles along the waterfront in Windsor before heading to the tunnel entrance. I checked out the Detroit skyline, trying to figure out where we had started and where we might go back. I really didn't expect to hear a distinct Canadian accent, as I figured the two cities probably diluted each other's language...but there it was. I even heard one "eh" from a spectator. Fun!

Ran past more Customs officials and guard gates, and down into the tunnel. The "Underwater Mile" is around mile eight. There was definitely some seepage on the way down, with small puddles of water near the curb. Wow, we really are under a lot of very heavy water. I didn't realize how warm it was down there until we ascended and came out the other side, and hit the cool air again. Ran under a huge "Welcome to the USA" sign, past more Customs agents, and now it was time for the real work to begin.

Around mile ten, my feet decided to start a pain party. Felt like big giant blisters on the balls of both feet, but I knew they were just hot spots. Damn, my feet haven't hurt like this since Houston, marathon #2. This was #10, what the heck is going on? Oh well, it hurts as much to walk as it does to run, so may as well try to jog as much as possible.

Which worked fine until some time after mile 13, when the left calf decided to join in on the fun. For the next ten miles I fought off a full-blown cramp, but it did bring me up short a couple of times. Had to run very flat-footed to keep it under control. I'm sure I looked like something from the Walking Dead. Who knows what I was doing to compensate for the pain. Oh well, can't do anything about it except get through it and try to figure out the cause...and try to distract myself.

One doesn't usually think of "Detroit" and "beautiful" in the same sentence, but the course was very, very nice. After a few miles downtown, the marathon wound through a really beautiful old neighborhood, with lovely old homes and spectacular fall colors. The residents were out in force, blaring music from their homes and offering treats ranging from orange slices to M&M's to beer. I passed on the beer, but did give it serious consideration. By now the stomach had also come to the pain party, and was threatening to revolt.

We then headed across another bridge to Belle Isle, and ran around the island enjoying a waterfront view and glorious weather. By now it was approaching 60 degrees with a slight cooling wind, and the sun felt great. Not too warm, not cold. We went back across the bridge, and I knew I'd somehow stagger to the finish. Only a little over more than three miles to go!

All but the last few blocks were along the waterfront in a nice developed park, and the weather could not have been more perfect. I enjoyed looking around at the marina and the Windsor skyline across the blue water, and kept moving forward. Finally I knew it was safe to believe the spectators who were cheering, "You're almost there!" Thank goodness. Rounded the last corner, and limped/shuffled/walked/jogged/whatever to the finish. Gratefully collected my medal and thanked my lucky stars the car wasn't too far away. Got through the finish area and retrieved my gear, hoping that changing my shoes would help my feet (it didn't). Staggered to the car, driven by a vision of sitting in it, off my feet, enjoying the sunshine.

The approximately 300-mile ride home wasn't as bad as I'd feared it might be, but I was extremely grateful to pull up in front of the apartment. That burger from Stacked Pickle while sitting on my futon was a little bit of heaven on earth.

Official finish time: 5:10:31. Not great, but I'll take it. And the medal ROCKS. It's very nice and was worth the challenge. If you're not up to a full marathon, I would heartily endorse the international half -- it's THAT unique.

Lessons learned from marathon #10:

1. BodyGlide the butt. I've already talked about this one.
2. Eat more the day before, even if travelling. My appetite was off. This is the second time I've had problems eating enough the day before a race, so I think it's time to plan on drinking my calories.
3. Drink more the day before, even if travelling.
4. Don't wear shoes that worked fine for a running style that you no longer use. Over the last two years, I've gravitated to lighter-weight shoes with minimal support. This means my stride has changed. I used a pair of shoes that were fine before this, but clearly no longer work for longer runs. In addition, the materials were likely tired and starting to deteriorate as well. I think the calf issue was a response to bad form due to hurting feet.
5. Plan better for #4. I wore out my favorite shoes a mere two weeks ago at the Chicago Marathon, and since my legs were trying to recover, didn't have time to break in a new pair. If I'd had a spare "favorite" pair that I had been wearing occasionally, this wouldn't have happened.

Do Epic Sh*t, or, Chicago Marathon 2012

This was marathon #9, one week after completing a half-iron tri. Probably not the best planning. But I digress.

I used to live in Chicago, so I still have friends there. This was a combo marathon/see-friends-and-family trip. I drove up Friday night, made it through Gary without encountering any cars burning on the highway, and hit parking-lot traffic as expected. This was when I discovered two problems with the car. 1) The headlight that I replaced the day before was out again, and 2) my oil light came on a couple of times when I had to stop suddenly. Great. Issue #1 was simply massively annoying, as this was the second time I'd replaced the headlight and been ignored when I suggested it was an electrical problem. #2 was very concerning.

Upon arrival to my friends' place in Oak Park, we decided to drop the car off the next morning at his mechanic. I scrapped my breakfast plans with family and we had a nice quiet morning just hanging out and relaxing while waiting for the car. The garage called, and it turned out the engine was bone dry, and thankfully didn't appear to be damaged. Why was it bone dry? Don't know. The last time it was worked on it was supposed to have had an oil change. Not sure that happened. In any case, I was extremely grateful to have been caught in stop-and-go traffic. Otherwise, that light would not have come on and I probably would have seized the engine somewhere on I-65 between Chicago and Indianapolis. Crisis averted. Headlight issue would just have to wait until I can go be pissy with my hometown mechanic.

Got the car around lunchtime, complete with oil. Drove through horrible traffic to get to the expo and picked up my bib/shirt/etc., more horrible traffic to get back to the suburbs, then spent a quiet evening with friends.

Sunday morning my amazingly wonderful friends drove me into Chicago, and dropped me off within a couple of blocks of the start. I was there about two hours early to avoid the horrible traffic, so there was plenty of time to scope out the area, people-watch, shiver uncontrollably from the cold, and get to gear check. I don't know what the temperature was, but there was a very cold wind that made it uncomfortable. I had not planned on the cold wind, so really wasn't dressed warmly enough to sit around for two hours. While sitting there, I was missing my usual pre-race enthusiasm. As I watched arriving runners, many of them all excited and happy, some of them nervous, I just wasn't feeling it. I reminded myself that at least today I would be exerting myself for less time than last weekend (six-and-a-half hours), and wasn't even going half the distance as last week (70.3 miles). That was a happy thought, and I was almost as happy as if I'd had a wonderful hot latte to wrap my cold hands around. Finally I gave up my sweatshirt, checked my stuff, and wandered into the crowd in the start corral, hoping to enjoy the collective warmth of all those bodies sharing a smallish space.

After another 30 minutes of standing around with thousands of excited people, I finally started to feel ready to tackle the day. We shuffled to the start line, and were off.

Things went really well for the first 13 miles. Then my hamstrings started hurting. Then my calves. Then my butt. (See a trend here?) It was at this point that I started seriously questioning the wisdom of running a marathon on only six days of rest after a half-iron tri. Oh well, I knew it would be hard when I signed up, I really wanted to do Chicago this year, and there wasn't a darned thing I could do about it now except suck it up and keep going. I reminded myself that this was a heck of a lot easier when not preceded by a long swim and longer bike ride. Small consolation, but a wee bit helpful. Let the walk/jog process begin!

At least Chicago offers constant distractions. There are no lonely spots on the course; there are spectators everywhere and they make a lot of noise. They also carry some very funny signs. I saw a couple that referenced Paul Ryan's (bogus) claim that he had once run a marathon and done it in under three hours. One said something like, "Don't worry, this marathon is being timed the Paul Ryan way". Another said, "Run like Paul Ryan". "Run faster, the Bears kick off at 3pm!" and "Run faster, my arms are tired" were also good. However, my very favorite sign of all time was "Do Epic Shit". That one just summed it up!

I'm afraid that I was in too much pain to fully appreciate my surroundings; I was just trying to get through it. I vaguely recall a nice little Spanish neighborhood with a great Greek band (!), and a couple of spectators handing out beer. I seriously considered the beer, but decided that might make things worse. Around mile 24 my shoes began letting me know they were due to be replaced, and the feet got into the pain party. At this point I was fully appreciating the runner with the shirt that said, "This is the LAST time!" It was a good reminder that the pain really is forgotten remarkably quickly, and we keep coming back for more. At least the temperature was perfect for running -- nice and cool. It was downright cold for the volunteers and spectators, though.

The mile 25 sign was cause for celebration, and I was actually able to keep passing people, and eventually the finish line was in sight. Thank goodness for all those spectators! They really do make it hard to walk for very long at a time, and probably had a lot to do with keeping me moving faster than I otherwise might have. At last I threw myself across the finish line and was very happy with my 5:07 time. My average time is in the 4:50-5:15 range anyhow, so this was not an especially pitiful performance. I didn't have my typical steady pace, but the overall time was well within my abilities. Another good day and the hot shower was bliss.

Went and visited the family that I had missed on Saturday, had a really nice time, then drove back home. Thankfully the cop that pulled me over for the burnt-out headlight was a nice guy and didn't give me a ticket. All in all, a successful weekend! Next up: Detroit marathon in two weeks.

Total time: 5:07:23

Split	Time	Pace
5K	35:06	11:18
10K	1:07:54	10:34
15K	1:41:07	10:42
10K	2:15:46	11:09
HALF	2:23:51	11:52
25K	2:51:56	11:35
30K	3:30:16	12:21
35K	4:10:35	12:59
40K	4:51:02	13:02
Finish	5:07:23	11:59

Ironman 70.3 Augusta

Short version: PR by over 13 minutes, great course, humid but not hot, yes I'd do it again.

Longer version follows.

This was a fun course with a lot of community support. Augusta, GA is a nice little town with a strong sense of history, and a desire to rebuild itself rather than fading away. From before the Civil War to as recently as the 1970's, it was a major textile mill town rivaling Lowell, MA. As that business died off, so did many employment opportunities. The town is now following a strategy similar to that of Indianapolis: they want to become an amateur sports mecca. To that end, they very enthusiastically embrace the Ironman event and make the athletes feel very, very welcome. This was the fourth year of the event, and the town's enthusiasm was quite refreshing. I didn't realize that this is the largest of the IM 70.3 series races, at 3500 participants (most are capped at 2500).

We got into town Thursday, and did a little sight-seeing. While enjoying a Guiness, we ran into some Ironman employees who were coordinating volunteers, and agreed to help out at packet pickup the following day. After a canal boat tour Friday, we moved to the host hotel (the Marriott) and got settled in. I had shipped my bike there earlier in the week (Delta is a ripoff with bikes), and they had it delivered to our room before we hauled our bags up there. What service! Got the bike assembled, made sure no parts were missing, and went downstairs to check in and work our shift.

The expo was the largest of any 70.3 I've done so far (this was #8), and offered many opportunities to spend money. I picked up my race packet and chip, then found the volunteer coordinator. We assembled/dispensed goody bags for a few hours, had fun meeting other athletes, and called it a day. Saturday was a 1.5 mile walk down to Transition, where a bike mechanic aligned/tightened/verified that all was good, then I found my spot and racked the bike. Relaxed on a historic trolley tour and saw a bit more of Augusta.

Maybe it's part of being in the South, but the general atmosphere was very, very friendly, and athletes were very chatty. I've never been asked so many times if I've done a full. It was nice for the ego to get asked that, reply yes, and see the look of respect. So here we are in the elevator after dinner, I'm feeling all puffed up and studly, and an obviously elite female athlete gets on with her obviously expensive high-end bike and 2% bodyfat. Then two more Kona-qualifier types get on, about my age, with maybe 5% bodyfat. Then there's me...beer-drinking, normal bodyfat range, minimal training, never-gonna-stand-a-chance-at-qualifying because I'm in the middle-to-back of my age group. I just had to look around and laugh. Oh well, we all get the same medal at the finish line.

Sunday morning I got to sleep in late for a race day, until 5:20 am. Caught the 6 am shuttle to transition, got all my stuff set up, drank another Muscle Milk, then caught another shuttle back to the swim start. Those of us in wave 11 (of 25) watched the previous waves leave and noticed the visible current. Hooray! As a slow swimmer, I LOVE strong currents! Water temp was 76, so wetsuit legal and very comfortable. I had my fastest swim ever thanks to that current and got out of the water after 33:56.

Very long transition from exiting the water back into the transition area...about 350 yards. But there were wetsuit strippers after that long schlep. Gotta love the wetsuit strippers.

So far the rain was holding off, and everyone was hoping it would at least wait until most were done with the bike. We crossed the Savannah river after maybe five miles, and rode about 45 miles in South Carolina on rolling hills before crossing back into Georgia. These truly were rollers -- steep enough to have to work it, but not so steep as to be miserable. And some of the downhills were quite nice. With so many participants, it was hard at times not to draft, but it wasn't horribly crowded and I always had plenty of company around. I was hoping to have a repeat of the Steelhead bike ride (~3:15, no stopping) and succeeded. This course was much hillier than Steelhead, so I was very, very pleased with my ride. Pulled up to the dismount line after 3:15:48.

Still felt pretty good through transition, and headed out for the run...and just couldn't get enough air. I've lost any high-humidity conditioning I might have had, and it quickly became painfully apparent. At 93%, the humidity reduced me to a pitiful run/walk routine. I could run maybe .10/mile, then my heart rate would shoot up and I'd have to walk and pant a bit. It was like breathing through a wet dishrag. Very frustrating. The legs felt ok, the gut wasn't thrilled but wasn't the issue: I just couldn't get enough air. And I had lots of company. Many people were doing the same thing: run for a minute or two, then walk for 30-45 seconds breathing hard, then run again. Oh my, this is going to be a long day and it's going to blow my chances at a PR if I don't watch it.

The run is a zig-zag through downtown, twice, so there's plenty of spectators and plenty to look at. I was glad we had taken the trolley tour the previous day, because now I could recognize various landmarks as I went by and distract myself by trying to remember their story. Eventually I came upon Scott Rigsby, the first double-amputee to complete a full Ironman distance, around mile 9. He was chugging along at a good pace on his blades. Very motivating. I can't even imagine how much that must hurt after the first few miles.

Kept up the run/walk routine, and was delighted to look up and see the Mile 11 sign. A group of us passed it together, and had a good laugh about missing the Mile 10 sign but being very happy we only had two more to go. Eventually I rounded the last corner, and was able to run the last couple of blocks to the finish. Four of us hit the chute at the same time, and I came from the back to beat the two guys to the finish line. Yes! Hope they didn't mind getting chicked by an old fart (age is written on your calf). At last it started to rain a little bit.

Immediately found Paula, got my medal/hat/food, and headed back to the hotel for a badly-needed hot shower. Ohhhhh that felt good. Run time: 2:32:22. Not bad!

While I didn't have the negative splits that I had at Steelhead, I am still very pleased. The bike course was quite a bit more challenging than Michigan, and the run conditions were harder. Even without the nice current helping me out, I would have at least matched my Steelhead time, so it was clearly a good day. I took my time in transition, and it was well worth it. Between the hospitality of the town, the volunteers, and the hotel, I would definitely fly back to do this race again.

Total Time:	6:32:39
Swim:	33:56
T1:	6:23
Bike:	3:15:48
T2:	4:10
Run:	2:32:22