My marathon weather history

The latest conditions for the Austin Marathon call for temperatures at the start around 60 degrees and a high of about 75. And humidity will probably be 1,000,000 percent.

Ok. Ok. I've done this before. Run marathons in much worse conditions, what with freezing winds at the 2009 Cowtown Marathon in Fort Worth and a freak heat wave at the 2010 Chicago Marathon.

Here, in fact, is a look at the weather conditions for each of my previous seven marathons. I pulled the weather from the weather underground site wunderground.com. I list what the weather was at the start and finish of the race (7 a.m. and noon for continuity).

A look:

2005
December 11, Dallas White Rock Lake Marathon: 38 degrees at the start. 60 at the finish.

2007
December 9, Dallas White Rock Lake Marathon: 46 at the start. 39 at the finish. (brief periods of light rain)

2008
December 14, Dallas White Rock Lake Marathon: 66 at the start. 75 at the finish with speeds averaging 21 mph. (Cramped real bad here.)

2009
February 28, Fort Worth Cowtown Marathon: 35 at the start, 46 at the finish. 24mph wind speeds made it feel like it was 23 degrees. (Chilly)

October 4, 2009 Portland Marathon: Start 44, Finish 50. (The most perfect day to run a marathon. Unfortunately, I didnt run a perfect marathon).

December 13, 2009 Dallas White Rock Lake Marathon: Start 48, Finish 54 (Great weather. Ran a PR of 3:36)

2010
October 10 Chicago Marathon: Start 59, Finish 81. This is not a misprint. EIGHTY ONE DEGREES!!!! (Yes, I cramped up all over the place. Just like 2008. Hmmm. A trend. Lesson: When its that hot, take it easy!)

Again, with temps expected to be pretty uncomfortable during Sunday's race, my goal is to take it easy, real easy for the first 13 to 18 miles, running wayyy slower than my marathon goal pace (7:40 min/mile), and then if I have something left, turn it on at the end.

I will take it easy.

I will take it easy.

I will take it easy.

Cowtown Marathon reflections: Food for thought.

One of my blogging friends, Victoria of FlirtynDirty, left this in my inbox Monday morning:

"I actually don't think you need to slow down. I think it has way more to do with caloric intake (she says, in her totally scientific opinion). ... everyone's an experiment of one, but your times look like a caloric crash-- you're going fine and then you die. That's not needing to go out slower as much as it is needing calories, in my humble opinion.

I agree with what you said in your blog. I think you're totally capable of running a 3:30 marathon."

And in the comments section of my blog came this from Sara from Docstoflopstocrocs: "... maybe you need to tweak your fueling strategy for longer runs. I agree with Victoria that running 26.2 miles with no breakfast is a lot to ask of your body."

Spot a trend?

I need to eat better. No. Make that I need to eat more. The day before the Cowtown Marathon, I had oatmeal and coffee for breakfast; a tuna sandwich and potato salad for lunch; and a sweet potato and chicken noodle soup for dinner. That is less than 1,000 calories. And in the four or five days leading up to the marathon, I don't think I had one day where I had more than 2,500 calories.

No wonder I bonked, or as Victoria called it, I had, "a caloric crash." I was going fine. Averaging an 8-minute mile on little effort through Mile 14. Started feeling bad a little (Body giving me warning signs that the tank was near 'E'). Recovered for one final moment of glory at Mile 17 (8:03 m/m), then the tank was empty.

And I don't mean gradually empty. I mean Empty. Right. Now. Mile 17, up a hill, was completed in 8:03. Mile 18, also uphill somewhat, was completed in 9:18.

Let me say that again. Mile 17: 8:03. ..... Mile 18: 9:18. Of all the miles in the marathon, the the difference of 1 minute, 15 seconds between Mile 17 and 18 was the greatest. And the dropoff in pace would continue. But it started, suddenly, at Mile 18.

I averaged an 8:04 pace the first 17 miles. I averaged 10:13 over the final 9.2 miles.

My race nutrition was a GU and a salt packet every 6 miles. The GU, a Hammer Chocolate, had 90 calories. I took four of them during the race. That's an additional 360 calories. It wasn't nearly enough to keep up my energy. I needed more GUs and I probably needed to take them sooner. And breakfast would have helped. And a sandwich with that chicken noodle soup would have hit the spot. And..

Somewhere around the middle of Mile 25, Nick, one of the Luke's Locker runners, passes me. Now this should come as no surprise because Nick is fast. Problem is, Nick was running an ULTRA. The day after the Cowtown, Nick and I were among a dozen or so at a post-marathon shindig. Nick has run sub 3:10 marathons and I know he has got a sub 3:00 in him. I asked Nick how much he eats. He said he eats about 3,500 calories a day.

"Damn," I said, gulping my beer. "How do you do that?"

"You know, lots of pasta, potatoes, and.." he paused.

"Yeah, and what," I said.

"And I'll eat a whole entire box of cereal if I'm short on calories," he said.

I guess I'll be investing in Raisin Bran stock.

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MARATHON PREDICTION WINNER

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"I'll guess 3:51! Good luck, have fun, and just finish!"

Kevin of JustFinish came within two minutes of predicting my time. Kevin just edged out Myriam of Becauseitis, who guessed 3:50:07.

Lindsay and Ulyana guessed 3:53 on the dot. But they both admitted they "guessed" after reading my race report. Funny ladies.

So Kevin, drop me an email with your mailing address or a P.O. Box, let me know if you like red or white wine, and watch your mailbox.

Race report: Cowtown Marathon - Another PR

My official time at the Cowtown Marathon was 3:53:28.
I never blogged about how fast I thought I could run this race, but now that its over, I'll admit that I thought I could easily run 3:40 or better, and really thought a 3:30 was in the cards based on my training. (There seems to be a slight controversy about who correctly predicted what I'd run, but that's a subject for another day).
But I won't boo-hoo the effort. Cowtown had howling 25 to 35 mph winds and enough hills to make you think you were running in San Francisco, but my time is a 15-minute PR over my White Rock Marathon from 10 weeks ago.

For those that don't have enough time to read through my (really) long race report, I'll give you some quick stats and a short analysis of my run. I ran the first half in 1:45, started feeling bad around Mile 14, recovered, felt bad again around 17, recovered, then felt bad from 22 until the end. But I took GU and salt every six miles and held on to run the fastest 2nd half of any marathon I've ever run.

And something else: For the first time in any marathon I've run, I had enough in my legs that I could sprint the final two-tenths of a mile, able to raise my hands and jump across the finish line. The feeling was exhilarating. I wish I had video of that.

The hard headed lesson I learned (aside from the fact that I started too fast): The marathon doesn't care about my V02Max. Or my Yasso 800s time. It doesnt care about how fast I can get through 1k meter intervals or what I can do on a tempo run. The marathon is a totally different animal and the sooner I wrap my head around that fact, the better my I'll become at running these things.

The stats: 3:53:28
Overall place 222 out of 921
Gender place: 191 out of 623
Division place: 1 out of 3 (LOL. They listed me as 0 years old. Who knew I'd win my age group!)

The report

Race Day morning: What to wear.
**We had highs in the mid 80s all week long but the Saturday forecast was pretty consistent. Itd be cold and windy. None of us knew it would be THAT cold and THAT windy.
I awoke at 4:30 Saturday morning, hit the weather bug app on my IPhone and it said it was 40 degrees with 20 mph winds. I awoke again at 5:30 and conditions had worsened: 32 degrees and winds gusting at up to 40 mph. I could hear the trees rustling outside my window.
Uh-oh, I thought. It would be 30 degrees cooler than White Rock (and thats good for running long distances) but running when its that cold and windy is not comfortable at all. This would be a day for running tights.

**I packed all my things and made the 10-minute drive downtown to meet Tom, one of my co-workers in his office at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. The building is just a few blocks from the start line. It was 6:30, about an hour before the start. We groused about the weather, wondering if we should put on even more clothes. I ended up wearing three technical shirts, two pair of gloves, and a hat. It was nice to spend those last few minutes in a warm office, able to change clothes or use the bathroom without waiting in line.

**At about 7:15, we took a GU and headed to the start line. It was even colder now, it seemed, with the winds whipping around the downtown skyscrapers. (There are a few in Fort Worth). We tucked into the crowd at the start line, settling just behind the 3:30 pace group. The marathoners, half marathoners, and ultra-marathoners all started from the same spot and even though 4,000 of us where huddled tightly on Fourth and Houston streets, the windchill still found its way to the bare or barely covered parts of my body.

**My nerves were going crazy at this point, but seeing so many familiar faces calmed me down just a bit and I decided to just make this like a training run. By the time the starting horn went off, I felt at ease.
But those feelings wouldn't last long.

Miles 1-6: Can't get my heart rate to slow down
**In my head I was saying, "Hold back, hold back, hold back." But the first mile was all downhill. So how do you stop a freight train of nerves and emotion on a full tank of gas? You don't. So I just let my legs do what they wanted to do and worry about the right pace at Mile 2. Running north from downtown on Main Street, we ran right into the teeth of the wind, but I was no longer cold, and me and my co-worker, Tom, looked at each other and wondered if we were wearing too many clothes. At points in the race when we were running with the wind, I took off my hat when I started to get warm. At one point later in the race, I saw a lady wiggle out of one of her under shirts while still keeping her top t-shirt on. What a feat that was!

**Tom, who has now run 11 marathons and qualified for Boston, had hurt his calf and couldnt run White Rock in December with me and was just hoping to take it easy today. But he had "muscle memory" and was way too fast for me, so at the middle of Mile 2, I let him take off. Gotta run my own race. (Tom wound up running 3:35. I had NO business lining up with him at the start).

**In training, I could run 8 minute miles without my heart rate getting over 80 percent of maximum. But I couldnt get my heart rate to slow down Saturday. Nerves. Adrenaline. All of it was out of whack, and worrying about it made it worse. It spiked to 82 percent at Mile 3, and 84 percent by Mile 6. I had a choice to make at this point: slow down and get my heart rate back under 80 percent or speedup so my effort matches my heart rate.
Despite all the preaching to myself about starting slow and controlled, what did I do? You guessed it. I sped up.
It was the biggest mistake I made during the race.
But it would take me a while to realize it.

Mile 1: 8:01
Mile 2: 8:30
Mile 3: 8:03
Mile 4: 7:48
Mile 5: 8:00
Mile 6: 7:48

Miles 7-13: This feels good.
My plan was to take a Hammer Chocolate GU and a packet of table salt every six miles. And it had the desired affect during the first half of the marathon.
I ran the Cowtown route in training and everytime I got to the hills around River Crest Country Club, my pace would slow and I'd feel sluggish. Not Saturday. I floated through those little rollers. At about Mile 8, the GU/salt started kicking in and I ripped off four straight sub 8-minute miles. Man, I was feeling soooo good. I clapped when I ran by the kids volunteering at the aid station in front of South Hi Mount Elementary. I eagerly thanked the police men and women for doing patrol.
This is sooo easy, I thought. My heart rate was still a little high (had soared to 85 percent max), but my legs were warm and I felt just like I did in training. I wasnt breathing hard. Everything was clicking.
And when I hit the half way point, I thought to myself: There is no way that I won't run a sub 3:40. No. Friggin. Way."
My legs had other ideas.

Mile 7: 8:04
Mile 8: 8:38
Mile 9: 7:47
Mile 10: 7:34
Mile 11: 7:44
Mile 12: 7:50
Mile 13: 8:03
Official half marathon time: 1:45

Miles 14-20: Uh-oh!
In the space of a few minutes, I went from feeling super to sluggish; from thinking I could run a sub 3:40-marathon to wondering If I'd even get in under 4 hours. I didn't think I'd hit the wall until somewhere in the 20s, but in the mid to late teens, here that wall was, closing in, invading my space. My fuel tank (low to start the race because I don't eat breakfast before I run) was emptying.

**And the troubling thing was, I was not on schedule to have another GU until Mile 18. As we ran through the Tanglewood neighborhood, my min/mile pace slowed from 8 to 8:30. This had never happened in training. (I'd also never run this fast in training) and I was starting to get worried.

**From Mile 16 to 17 is a big hill that lasts one mile and I thought about walking some of it, but just as I started to ascend the hill, I started feeling better. I don't know where. I don't know how. But i got a little bit of energy and I bounded up that hill, passing at least a dozen people. I thought I had gotten over the wall. I thought I was ready to start hitting more sub-8s. And then, right as we are about to turn into Foster Park, my left calf starts cramping.
Shit. A cramp. At Mile 17. The Wall is back, with a vengeance.
I stopped. Stretched out the cramp and continued through the park, which contained another hill. I did not bound up that hill.

*At this point in the race, I paid a little more attention to those running around me, trying to draw some kind of energy from somebody feeling as bad as I was. As I ran through Foster Park, I ran into Brad, a black guy from Arlington who had started cramping at Mile 12 and was run-walking. We bemoaned the hills and the wind. For a few miles, we took turns "taking the lead." He'd feel good and I'd try to keep up and then sometimes I'd feel good and he'd try to keep up. Somewhere around 19, he felt good and passed me and he was out of sight.
Also around the 19.5 mile mark, the 3:40 pace group passes me as we are running by Texas Christian University.
I stop on University Street, hop up on a curve and stretch. I look back, wondering, who/what else is gonna pass me.

Mile 14: 8:33
Mile 15: 8:10
Mile 16: 8:25
Mile 17: 8:03
Mile 18: 9:19
Mile 19: 10:07
Mile 20: 9:57

Miles 21-26.2: So this is how it feels.
*Six of the last 8 miles were into the wind, the 25 mph wind, and the last two miles were mostly uphill. I knew this going into the race. So my strategy here was just to hang on. Take my GU and salt when I'm supposed to. Walk if I need to. Stretch often. I had long ago given up on my "A" goal of finishing around 3:35 and my "B" goal of around 3:45. But my "C"
goal _ of finishing under 4 hours and running across the finish line _ was still in sight.

*At this point in my previous three marathons, I was like Dead Man Walking. In the last 10k of my 2008 White Rock Marathon, four of the miles took me longer than 11 minutes to complete. I averaged a 14-minute mile during the last 10k of my 2007 marathon and a 13-minute mile over the last 10k of my 2005 marathon. On Saturday, I finished 20 miles in about 2:46. Doing some quick math, I figured I'd get under 4 hours if I could do better than an 11:30 pace over the last 10k.
So that became my goal. "Don't run slower than 11 minute mile. " And I got a big cushion because Mile 21 was mostly downhill. I popped a sub 9-minute-mile on that one, my first sub-9 in four miles.

**But things were still hurting. I took my last GU and salt around Mile 22 and gave up trying to run the whole way. Instead, I resorted to run-walking. I'd run a few minutes, walk a minute and stretch if I needed. This seemed to help. I had a little more bounce in my legs during the run-part of run/walking. Still, though I was cutting it awfully close on my goal of not running slower than an 11-minute-mile over the last 10k. And again, it didnt help that I was running into the wind.

*Miles 14 and 21 go down the same street, with Mile 14 going North and Mile 21 going south. When I got to Mile 21, I saw a ton of runners going the other way. "Man," I thought, "These are the people with guts, to be out here so long in these conditions."

*Near the end of Mile 24, a friend of mine _ Blair _ who was pacing the 3:50 marathoners, passes me. "Kevin," he yelled out. "You better get your ass in gear." I turned around and replied, "Fuggg you, man." We both laughed. He asked if I wanted to tag along with his group. I said I was fighting off cramps and couldn't go any faster. Blair, who has run sub 3:15 marathons, gave me his last two electrolyte stamina pills and took off. I put them in my mouth just as I hit the Mile 24 water stop and mentally prepared myself for the last two miles, which included THE steepest hill of the race.

*Somewhere between Mile 24 and 25, I ran into Brad again. His cramps were really bad. I passed him for good when he ducked into a porta-potty on Henderson Street. (Brad still wound up with a faster chip time than me because he started several minutes behind me). I also ran into this old black man who was running with the National Black Marathoners Association. Now this guy had on a half-marathon bib, which meant my pace was twice as fast as his. When I saw him, he was stretching out his legs, trying to regroup for the last bit of the run. At Mile 25, as we go up the Lancaster Street hill, this man passes me with this power-walk/run trot thing going on. I was no match. He kept getting further and further away from me. I gave up trying to catch him.

*Even though there were mad hills at the end, my mood had brightened by this point. I said hello to all of the police officers doing patrol, telling them, "I didn't know what I was thinking when I signed up for this." I knew I was going to break the 4 hour barrier. And now, it was all about having enough energy in my legs to be able to sprint the last two-tenths of a mile, which is about the length of three football fields. (I had to walk across the finish line at the White Rock Marathon and it was all caught on video.)

So, before the last turn on Main Street, I hop on one of the curves and stretch as good as I can stretch. Calves. Groin. Quads. Hamstrings. It looked like I was stretching to run another 5k, but I just wanted to muster all the strength I could to run hard through the final part. I make the final turn at Mile 26 and I can see the finish line and all the people on both sides of the street and I start jogging. And I realize my legs are still holding up. With a 1/10 of a mile to go, I decide to sprint. It feels good. I pass a few runners. People cheer. "I'm going to make it," I think. I raise my hands in the air and see the photographers with their cameras, their aim on me. I smile. I leap across the finish line. I'm looking for somebody to share my elation. There's Blair. We chest bump.
I was ecstatic.
And most importantly, I was done.

Mile 21: 8:55
Mile 22: 10:06
Mile 23: 10:47
Mile 24: 10:42
Mile 25: 11:04
Mile 26: 10:58
26.44: 4:35

Cowtown Marathon

Unofficial time: 3:53

Went out way too fast (1:45) but didn't cramp too badly like I have in the past. And I still managed a 15 minute PR from White Rock.

More details later. But I'm off to find a beer.

Over-analyzing Cowtown: Can I split a hair three ways?

I'm back from Austin and already miss the trails there. It's a running town, for sure. Fort Worth, well, let me just say this. When I was taking the exit off the highway to go home, to the right was a guy riding a horse in a field. There may be more horse trails in Fort Worth than jogging trails. And unless you are a Cowboy, that's just sad.

Anyway, as I wrote this post, It was T-minus 5 1/2 days before the Cowtown Marathon. I havent really started tapering yet. In Austin, I ran 35 miles during the week. Not the 50 I was doing during the peak of my marathon training, but I'm still getting in the miles. But this week, I'm definitely going to shut it down until Saturday. When I ran in Austin, it was often in the dark and often on uneven dirt. I tweaked my left knee just a little bit - nothing to be concerned about, but its about time to start resting.

I have not run since a 9-miler Saturday and won't run until Tuesday. I'll do 6 then and 6 Wednesday, then that's it until the marathon.

What will I do in the meantime? Worry. Overanalyze. Over think. If I could split a hair three ways about Saturday's race, I would.

I know. I know. Its not healthy, but its no use. This is what I do during marathon week. I think about pace. About fuel. About the weather. When I got back from Austin Sunday afternoon, I went over my splits from my previous three marathons, breaking it down by looking at the first half of my marathons vs. the second half...

Year............1st half=pace.............2nd half/pace.................% slow down
2008............1:50=8:23..................2:18=10:32...................25 percent slower
2007............2:17=10:32................3:03=13:58...................32 percent slower
2005............2:10=9:58..................2:31=11:32...................24 percent slower

Even though I had a faster time in 2008 (4:08), it appears I ran a "better" race in 2005 (4:41) because I didnt slow down as drastically. As you can see, my marathons give a new meaning to "Negative Split." In my 2007 White Rock Marathon race report, I wrote that the only reason I didn't quit is because I couldnt find a medic. Three hours to run the back half of a marathon? Yeah, that was me.

In the second half of marathons, things have been negative alright. Again, its not because I run out of breath, or because I "hit a wall." All my second half problems have been because of painful cramps caused from, what I now believe, drinking toooooo much water.

But, as I wrote in a post a few weeks back, I think I got this cramping thing figured out. I'll bring my salt packets on the road to Cowtown, and hopefully, I can have the kind of negative split I'm supposed to have.

To run Cowtown, or not run Cowtown

When I tell people I'm training for the Cowtown Marathon on Feb. 28, I get the same response from most: Oh, man, that's hilly. You won't enjoy yourself. Why don't you rest up and train to run Oklahoma City in April.

And sometimes, I think about doing just that. But then I do my weekly long run _ today was 16 miles _ and I think, maybe I can handle the Cowtown hills.

I was supposed to do the last 13 miles of the Cowtown route today with a group at 6 a.m. But I couldn't get out of the bad (or out of the bathroom) in time, so I ran four miles by myself, then did 12 miles with another group that was meeting at 7 a.m. (I like running with others - its the only way I can get in my weekly social hour).

Anyway, it was 35 degrees and wind gusts were over 20 miles an hour (Think my White Rock Lake Marathon - only 35 degrees cooler). And the first few miles I felt real crappy. My legs were just dead. By Mile 10 I was starting to tighten up and thought, 'Yeah, maybe Cowtown isn't such a good idea.'

But the last five miles, I extended my stride and decided to pick things up and felt great. I finished each of the last five miles in under 8 minutes, including three of the five in under 7:40. I guess I can call it a nice little tempo run at the end of my long run. At the end of the run, I was back to thinking, 'Yeah, Cowtown is on!'

I finished the entire run, 16.16 miles in 2:13:45, a pace of 8:16 min/mile. The best thing is I didn't take any GUs or Jells and I only drank gatorade when I was done. I had a little Endurox shake an hour before my run, but that was it. I'm teaching my body to burn more fat when I run so I don't hit the dreaded 20 mile wall. Who knows if its working.

This run put me at 45 miles for the week and I must admit, my legs are dead. I'm going to drive to Austin to spend a few days with my son and will not take my garmin or my running shoes with me. That's two days of forced rest. I need it.

My 2008 Cowtown 10K race report

The last weekend in February has brought some strange weather to the Fort Worth Cowtown. Last year, it was windy and 60-plus degrees. The year before brought crazy rain. There was an ice storm during the first Cowtown, in 1978. But last Saturday brought perfect running weather. Temperatures at the start were in the high 30s, it was sunny, with little wind.
I got downtown Fort Worth some 20 minutes before the 7:30 start time. Stretched some. Jogged some. Then I squeezed in line with nearly 2,000 other 10kers and waited ... waited for the National Anthem ... waited for the race official to make people get behind the start line .... and finally, the starters gun.
I spent the first half mile doing two things: trying to catch my breath because my lungs felt like they were on fire, and pulling up the strap on my heart rate monitor. It seems like every race, something happens body-, or equipment-wise that never happens during a training run, and it just seems like the strap on my heart rate monitor had a mind of its own. It kept sliding down to my stomach and I kept pulling it back up. Finally, at about the half-mile mark, I yanked it up to just under my armpits and it stuck.
The first half mile was also spent dodging slower runners who lined up at the front of the race. This is where Cowtown can be a little better. The race organizers should make sure all the 6- to 8-minute milers get at the front of the line and everyone else in back because I was dodging people who couldn't have been faster than an 11 or 12 minute mile. Some people in front of me would just stop. This meant I had to suddenly swerve out the way or stop so I wouldn't run over somebody.
But this is something that happens in most races when there are thousands of competitors and I've just learned to deal with it.
I finally got some clearing at the half-mile mark and after I got my breathing under control I was feeling pretty good.
The first three miles was mostly downhill or flat, but I held back some because I knew, from running this course in 2007, that there would be monster hills ahead. So, my minute-per-mile splits for the first half were: 8:05 (lost time avoiding the slower runners); 7:26, and 7:27. My total time for the first three miles was 22:56.
The hills started near the end of the third mile. And just past the four-mile marker, it got crazy. We made the turn out of Trinity Park onto 7th street and there was basically 1 ½ miles where the course elevated 72 feet. That's about the equivalent of a six-story building. My heart rate, which had been at a hard _ but manageable _ 176 beats per minute quickly jumped into the 180s and would sky to the mid 180s at the end of this hill.
Despite the slow first mile, I was pacing along at a 7:37 mile-pace before getting to the Hill, which turned off on Henderson Street for a flat quarter mile stretch, then picked back up on Lancaster for another hill that lasted nearly half a mile.
I got through that stretch and looked at my watch: 5.62 miles in 43:05. That's a 7:40 pace. So even though I slowed, I was still in good shape to go for a PR. I picked up the pace and just ran the last half mile like it was an interval. At mile 6, I basically went into all-out sprint mode and passed a few people.
I'm not sure if the race photographers got a good picture of me, but I got to the finish line, hit the stop button on my Garmin (my heart rate had skied to 189), and tried not to throw up on the guy cutting the race chip off my shoe.
My time of 46:57 was a PR by 50 seconds.
Average heart rate was 189, which is 88 percent max.
Here is the race course:


View Larger Map

Stumbling, bumbling? Nahh, but I saw more than 600 tired people.

When I ran my second marathon last December, Wellstone's White Rock Marathon, the race organizers put my name on my bib. This is so that people can cheer you on _ by name _ when you are out on the course. Now, you may think it's corny, but let me tell you, when you pass the volunteers at mile 22 and somebody shouts, “Way to go, Kevin!” you appreciate it and it kind of energizes you, if only for about 10 feet or so. That's why I decided to volunteer at the Fort Worth Cowtown Marathon Saturday.
As I said in an earlier post, I ran a 10k, changed out of my wet clothes, and joined about a dozen or so other folks at Mile 24. Many of these volunteers were part of the Fort Worth Runners Club, which I joined a few weeks ago.
I wanted to volunteer to give back some of the same enthusiasm that volunteers had given me. But I also wanted to see the face of the marathoner, late in the race, when the glycogen is gone and the muscles are spasming, and the legs are like spaghetti.
There is a big difference between a sub-4 hour marathoner and one who takes longer than 4 hours to finish. Most of the marathoners who finished under 4 hours yesterday were in pretty good shape when they hit my volunteer station. Richard, the tall guy I've mentioned in other posts, looked great. (His wife, Lisa, is the president of the FW Runners Club and was organizing our station). Two guys I work with, Tom and Patrick, had smiles on their faces when they got to mile 24. Tom, I later learned was within seconds of qualifying for Boston.
Other sub-4 hour runners looked in good shape as well. Though, I do remember the Asian woman wearing three or four heat patches on her legs, wincing in pain with every step. We tried to give her water or Powerade and she just waved us off. She didn't want to be bothered. She was in a zone and looked like she was afraid if she stopped, she wouldn't start back up again.
The marathoners didn't have names on their bibs, so to encourage them, I'd shout out their bib numbers. “Way to go, 471” or “Hang in there 1400.” I shouted out so many numbers that I felt like a professional auctioneer. Most would look at you, smile and simply say, “Thanks.”
As the four plus hour marathoners ran by, you could see big differences. Many of those running slower took water, Powerade, pretzels, or whatever else we were handing out. Some looked like they were taking their last breaths, and I'm sure when they saw the finishing hill they'd have to climb they probably thought they were taking their last breath.
Our volunteer stop was where the marathoners and the half marathoners merged. This means that when a marathoner came loping by on pace to finish in 3:30, he or she was finishing way faster than some of the half marathoners. Still, you have to give those half marathoners credit. It takes a lot of courage to get out there.
Every once in a while, you'd see somebody going at a faster pace than everybody else. First, you'd wonder, 'Did that person misjudge their pace?' Because you'd see people barely jogging and then you'd see somebody sprint by. Then you'd realize that that person was an ultramarathoner, a race the Cowtown decided to hold for the first time this year. These fools, uh, I mean, people, were running 31 miles in the same time that mere mortals were running 26.2 miles.
There were 117 ultra-marathon finishers Saturday at Cowtown. The fastest finished 31 miles in 3 hours, 37 minutes. Folks that's a 7 minute-per-mile pace. I've never run 31 miles in a week that fast.
It was also interesting to see the color of the faces on the marathon course. Anytime I've run a marathon, I only see a handful of other black people. Cowtown was no different. Of the 809 marathoners and ultra-marathoners who officially finished, I saw two black guys running the marathon, two black women running the marathon, and one black guy running the ultra-marathon. That's less than one percent. (Most of the serious black marathoners in the country were probably recovering from the Lost Dutchman Marathon in Arizona the weekend before. That's where members of the National Black Marathoners Association (yes, this group exists) were having their annual run. And guess where they are coming next year? Fort Worth's Cowtown. So I guess I know what I'm running next February.
So, Saturday was an interesting experience, but not as dramatic as I thought it might be. Nobody crawling or staggering, like this woman here at a marathon in Japan this past January. Not that many tears, and certainly no medic trucks were needed. All-in-all, it was a pretty good time.
Tomorrow: My 10K Race report

My Cowtown 10K Result

46:57

This is the time I clocked in the 10k portion of the Cowtown Marathon in Fort Worth Saturday. A personal record. And it could have been faster but I spent the first mile dodging slower runners who lined up in the front of the race.
Anyway, that's me volunteering for the Fort Worth Runners Club at mile 24 of the marathon. I ran the 10k, changed clothes, and stood outside for three hours handing out Powerade and water.
I came away with a new perspective to marathon running which I will share over the next few days.
But the first thing I'll say is this. Everybody who is thinking about running a marathon _ and I've run two _ should volunteer at an aid station late in a marathon. You see a lot. Determination. Agony. Humor. Tears. More tomorrow.

Don't let the age fool you.

So, every Tuesday morning, I run with a group of folks from Luke's Locker. A few are younger than me, but most are older, like mid to late 40s. Of course, all you gotta do is look in the paper every weekend at the 5k times of some of the 40- and 50-somethings to know that age never matters when it comes to running speed. This morning, during the last few miles of a 6-mile tempo run, I'm pacing along at about an 8 minute mile with a guy who has to be at least 50-something. And every time we hit a mile, he'd say, "that's an 8:04 pace." I'm like, "where did he get the wind to say that?" What's worse is that just a few steps behind were two other runners, one 40-something and another 20-something, talking about their running like they were just walking in the park. The 20-something, a woman, was saying she was going to run a 50-mile race, and talked of overcoming a broken heel by running too slow. The 40-something, a guy named Richard, is usually the fastest in the bunch (and at 6-3, he is definitely the tallest), and he was pacing along talking about injuries and running in this month's Cowtown marathon. Again, I'm sucking wind hoping that this run is over soon. I finished the 6.15 mile course in 49:50, about an 8:10 pace. Heart rate didn't go crazy like last week, mainly because it was 20 degrees cooler. I also felt good when I woke up this morning and I suppose its because I didn't have my customary two glasses of wine the night before. I'm going to try this no drinking thing during the week and see where it takes me in my running. I'm running the 10K at Cowtown and should easily pop a PR.