Race Report, Part II: Philadelphia Marathon Event Review

Since I did such a long race report that included pre-race, my race report, lessons learned, and post-race adventuring, I wasn't planning on doing another multi-part race report.

But, two days removed from the event, I realized that I wanted to talk a little more about the event itself, as independently as I could from my own race experience, for someone that might be thinking of the Philadelphia Marathon.

My advice: Do it!

Course
Either the half or full marathon is a good tour of Philadelphia (to be more clear than I was yesterday, the half course is the first half of the full marathon course), but first half is the more interesting: downtown, along the Delaware, South Street, Old City, University City, Fairmount Park.



The second of the course is generally a very pretty run along the Schuylkill River, but generally lacks the varied scenery of the first half. It's interesting to see street side of Boathouse Row, and Manyunk is like a fun little town nestled within city limits of Philadelphia.

I can't decide which part of the course is tougher. For me, obviously, the second half. But if I ran them independently of each other the first definitely has the bigger hills. Whether you run the half or full, the finish at the Art Museum is spectacular.

Between the scenery, very good crowd support and interesting things or people to see along the course, it's at least a visually stimulating journey. My favorites were the Sixers Dance Team, Eagles Drumline, and the goofy costumed entertainers at mile 11. After three years, I still can't figure out what the hell they are but they always make me laugh.

I can think of just a handful negatives about the course. I can think portions of it are very crowded (the start and Chestnut Street namely). A few more port-o-potties at some of the stops would have been helpful, and later in the race the aid stations were running out of cups. The volunteers continued to fill water bottles, trying to save cups for those who didn't have bottles, and I have no complaint at all with the aid station volunteers who numerous and friendly. There were aid stations approximately every two miles, which seemed adequate to me. (I did have my hydration belt.)

There's a lot of history and a lot of interesting sights along the course. For a lot of runners, that's probably reason enough. For all you other shallow folks like me, let's talk about the expo and swag

Expo
The expo at Philly is a little bigger than the one at Shamrock, but also more crowded -- the seemed to make not the best use of the available space in the convention hall, but at least it was crowded with cool stuff: Whatever supplies you were looking for, whether last-minute stuff for the race or just some new gear, you could probably find it here.

While I didn't like the race merchandise as much as I did in previous years (the main logo stays the same, but the designs change a bit each year), there's a good selection of race logo merchandise. I went with two hats (a white one to try as a running hat and a black one that I just thought was cool) and a fleece jacket.


Swag
I've run the Philly Half or Marathon each of the past three years, and the main giveaway has always been a long-sleeve Endurafit tech shirt with the race slogan on the front and course map on the back. I like the shirts, especially since the maps are on them, but the sizing is a little funny. I have three "mediums". 2009's is on the small side, tight in the arms; 2010's is perfect; and 2011's is probably really a "large". The course maps, cool. The slogans, another matter. 2009: "Running Means..." (Signs all over the city filled in cheesy slogans "Running Means Independence", "Running Means a Rhino is Chasing You", etc.). 2010: "Push Through". 2011: "Best Time of Your Life." I already mocked that one yesterday. Still, it's a good giveaway.

The ubiquitous drawstring goodie bag also has a bottle(?) of coconut milk, some chocolate-covered berries, a therapeutic wrap, and a voucher for Sixers tickets. This will be seriously cool if the NBA ever resumes play.


Overall Impression
Two days after my race, I'm not feeling nearly as negative about myself (more on both that and on the tragic deaths of two participants on Thursday), and I think I can say I'll remember the experience with a good amount of pride, even though I still want to use this race as motivation to do better next time.

But, all that aside, I think this is a good event. The post-race party and swag don't stack up to Shamrock, which seems to just have a more "fun" atmosphere. Philly doesn't really have any post-race celebration at all. (As Nancy clarified below.)

However, there's a lot to do in Philadelphia, but it's manageable to see a lot during the weekend and if nothing else you see a good portion of the city during the race to at least be able to orient yourself later (I know downtown very well from having worked there years ago). It's a visually interesting course -- it has Shamrock beaten in that regard -- that with good support, a good expo, and good swag (if you care about swag). I thought the course was challenging, and positively mountainous compared to my only other marathon, but I've heard that among marathons Philly is still considered "flat and fast."

Train better than I did, and you might even have "The Best Time of Your Life."

Race Report: 2011 Philadelphia Marathon (or "Best Time of Your Life, My A**")

I never hit the wall, because the whole race was the wall.

When I look back on the 2011 Philadelphia Marathon in the days, weeks, months and years ahead, I'm not sure how I'll remember it. I failed by all but the very minimum standard (just finish) that I'd set for myself, but I still feel like I did accomplish something. Right now, though, I'll say that it was miserable. I hit the wall at Shamrock, but I would say that I mostly enjoyed the race. Yesterday, I hit the wall earlier in the race, and I would count the 2nd half of the marathon as the most miserable, joyless 13 miles I've ever run, with the exception of one hell of a rush at the finish.

It sucked. I knew I wasn't as ready as I should have been and that it would suck, and I was prepared to accept the consequences, but I underestimated the level of pain I would be in. I don't remember much pain from Shamrock. (Though I think the pain was there and I just chose not to remember it because I am overall very happy with it. Chris is right -- i could barely walk after Shamrock, too.)I mostly remember that I "just" got to a point where my legs just wouldn't go anymore. Yesterday? Very painful.

I finished in 5:07:17, about nine minutes slower than Shamrock. Let's get that unpleasantness out of the way. I have to consider this a setback, a failure, a bad race, but I do not do think my failure was quite complete.

Pre-race
Chris, who was running the half (her second), and I got to the Expo at the Philadelphia Convention Center at around 2pm on Saturday. Packet pickup went smoothly. The expo seemed to take up about half of a very large convention room, and it was tightly packed and crowded. I bought a hefty load of Philadelphia Marathon-logo apparel, and we met up with a few other runner-bloggers who were running the race. (Thanks to Amanda from www.runtothefinish.com for organizing the meetup!). It was while we were hanging around chatting that I noticed my legs were feeling very tired (more from an overall exhausting week, I suspect, rather than a tough week of running) which turned out to indeed be a harbinger of doom.

(Oh, that doesn't look so bad. As you can see, this isn't my first rodeo.)

We looked around the expo for a little while, grabbing our Shamrock Marathon cups at the J&A booth, when I remembered that I wanted to buy a book, because I had forgotten to bring anything to read at the hotel. I was looking for something that would mostly be entertaining stories rather than serious training tips, so my choices seemed to be My Life on the Run by Bart Yasso and Run! by Dean Karnazes. Since Bart Yasso was sitting there at the Runner's World table, I picked up his book, got it signed, and chatted for a minute.



Having accomplished everything we could at the expo, we headed over to Reading Terminal Market, next to the Convention Center, to each have a cookie from the Famous Fourth Street Cookie Company. Let me just say that they are famous for a reason, and leave it at that.



We had dinner (and my pre-race beer) at Sotto Varalli on Broad Street. It certainly was adequate carb loading. With the long day ahead, we were in bed by 10:00.

(Ready to run.)

The Race
The Dream
I got up at 3:30am for a peanut-butter sandwich and some water, and went back to bed. I got up "for real" at 4:15 to do my IT band stretching and foam rolling, apply sunscreen, put BodyGlide everywhere, and try to psych myself up with some pre-race Van Halen. We left the hotel around 6am, accompanied by our friend Maryrose, who came to watch us and some of her other friends.

We were in our corrals a little before the 7am start, and I chatted with a friend of Maryrose's who was running the half and also starting from the super-elite orange corral. It was great to have some company, because it made the interminable wait for the wave start a little less, well...interminable.



The race started, eventually, and while I didn't feel great (in terms of overall energy level), I felt "ok" and I hoped that would be enough. I'm not going to be do a mile-by-mile recap like I did for the half marathon last year, because it would make me too angry to type, but over the first several sections of the course, eastbound through downtown Philly, south on Columbus Boulevard, and northwest on Front St./South Street/Sixth St., I was exactly where I thought I needed to be in terms of pace. I saw the Eagles Drumline, which made sense because my beloved Birds were in NY for their game that night against the Giants, and the Sixers dance team, which didn't make any sense at all since the Sixers don't exist in any meaningful sense right now, although I welcomed the distraction. (We did get Sixers ticket vouchers in our packet and the new owner of the Sixers ran the marathon.)

On the next phase of the course, the long flat westbound stretch down Chestnut Street, I continued to hold back. This is the part of the course where I usually make up time because it's flat and straight with great crowd support. I hit the six-mile mark at midway point of Chestnut at just over an hour. Perfection.

After Chestnut Street, things got a bit more difficult: The long hill on 34th Street, the steep up and down hills of the zoo and Fairmount Park. At least I didn't see people peeing on the zoo this year. Miles 7-11 is the hilliest part of the course. I wonder if I should have eased up more here, though it likely wouldn't have made much difference on this day.

The farthest west point on the half marathon course is just around mile 11. From there, it's a mostly downhill or flat two-mile charge back to Eakins Oval. At this point last year, I pushed myself toward a great half marathon finish. This year, I held back, knowing there were many miles left to run. I felt tired, and as I saw the signs throughout mile 12 directing half marathon finishers to the right and marathoners to the left and a turn back to the west, the wiser part of me contemplated packing it in at 13.1. Instead, I kept to the left and descended into Hell.

(You have chosen...unwisely.)

In hindsight, I believe that my familiarity with the half marathon course was part of my undoing. Though I paced myself well, I think my mindset was to think "I'm almost done" as I progressed through the first half of the course. It was very disheartening to reach the place that had always been the finish for me, where I've had two of the happiest moments of my running career, and turn back out for another 13.1 that I was beginning to suspect that I didn't have in the tank.



The Nightmare
I finished the first half of the marathon in 2:15:02, which was almost exactly where I wanted to be. But I felt weak. Not only was I under-trained (however, I had reason to believe I wasn't that under-trained), it was a warm day compared to the last two Philadelphia Marathon and Half Marathon race days, and I think for me it was just "one of those days", because things started to go wrong soon after I made the turn out toward Manyunk. Still, at some point in the race, and I don't remember exactly where but it was definitely rather early, I decided that the moment I crossed the finish would be amazing, and I wasn't going let anything -- be it fatigue, pain, the (relative) heat, or dissatisfaction with myself -- take that moment away from me.

I think the pain began to creep into my quads at around mile 15, and I had to start taking walk breaks at mile 18 instead of the 21 that I made it to at Shamrock. Pain soon became agony. I got to Manyunk, and it seemed like the turnaround point would never come. I gratefully accepted a cup of beer at the very welcome unsanctioned beer table at mile 19 and some bacon that was being handed out outside a restaurant.

I tried to run as much as I could, knowing that the more I ran, the more quickly I could end this ordeal. I could still have my moment, even if the race sucked. Even if I sucked. (I don't mean to be overly negative here on the blog, but my thought process at this point in the race was very pessimistic. I was so mad at myself.) I tried to split the race into 10-minute segments with three minutes of walking and seven minutes of running, but seldom could I maintain that. I had visions of a 6-hour finish, or no finish at all.

I rallied a bit over the last three miles, and when the 5:00 pace group passed me, I tried in vain to keep up. Still, it seemed that things maybe were not quite as bad as they seemed, and the last three miles of the race really did pass more quickly than I thought they would. It was a disaster, but not as big as a disaster as it seemed at mile 18. Since the second half of the marathon is an out and back, I'd been able to see what was waiting for me, and my impression was that I had a pretty hefty uphill ahead at mile 24 or 25, but it never seemed to come.

I hit Boathouse Row (mile 25) and was overcome with joy -- I knew that my trial would soon be over. I would guess I ran the first half the last mile, trying to decide if I should take one last walk break. I did so as I went by the art museum, not wanting to get "caught" walking by the cameras at the finish line. As I rounded the art museum, the course went downhill and I charged. I knew the finish line was ahead, but with a curve in the road I couldn't tell how far. Luckily, it was right around the bend, and I was almost in tears with relief as I crossed. There will be better days than this, I hope, but my moment was not taken from me. I'm not happy with how I did, but I endured for the medal and so it means something to me.

(After breakfast, we finally felt well-enough to pose.)

I also admit that I really wanted to finish because I didn't want to not be able to wear all the Philly Marathon crap I'd bought the day before. Whatever it takes, right?

Lessons Learned
After Shamrock, I had a whole litany of things I wanted to do differently. Some of them I did: more long runs, better pacing through the first half of the race, and a better job eating throughout the whole marathon. Some of them I did not do as well on, namely speedwork and strength training. Those are a must. I really don't care how fast I am, but I want to do everything I can to make sure no marathon is this un-enjoyable again. My quads need to get stronger. I felt like my cardiovascular endurance was sufficient yesterday despite my need for multiple inhalers to help fight off cold symptoms earlier in the week; it was my legs that were not strong enough.

There's really only lesson from this one. It's hard to accept that I didn't work hard enough, but it's the truth. I could blame the warmer-than-usual weather, since I get stronger when the temperature gets lower, say that Philly was hillier than I expected (I don't think it's considered a bad one, but compared to Shamrock, OMG.) and accept that "some days you've got it; some days you don't" is probably a part of most runners' experiences, but the lesson I want to take from this day, this miserable but still somewhat triumphant day is "Just shut up and work harder."

Virginia Beach, I am coming for you. I will not waste another chance. I'm going to take a few recovery days and then I'm going to make sure I go down to the Shamrock Marathon a better runner and stronger person than I am now.

Congratulations!
Congratulations are in order to Chris, who finished her second half-marathon and scored a new PR! Though there aren't Disney characters to distract runners, I think Philly is a tougher course. Also congratulations to Derek, who, after laying waste to our age group at HACC Dash, ran a PR 1:36 in the half, and Nick, who ran the half after recovering from the Baltimore Marathon, and had cheesesteak eggrolls before the race and still finished. Trust me, no small feat!

Feasting!
After running 26.2 miles, ok, ok, after running most of 26.2 miles, the celebration began. Brunch was at Little Pete's, my favorite diner-type restaurant.

(Our server said they'd had a steady stream of race customers. I figure the Kenyans went through at around 9:15)

I declared my intention to drink 26.2 beers to numb my aching quads. Though I only made it through 4 (post-brunch, 2 at dinner, and 1 during the Eagles game), I will say that I enjoyed them all!

Dinner was spectacular. Cheesesteak eggrolls from the Continental Mid-town.

I slept through 90% of the Eagles game, but a win's a win. We wrapped our weekend in Philly up with an amazing breakfast at Molly Malloy's at Reading Terminal Market.


Now, the race is over. The feasting is done. I have four months to Shamrock and it's time get serious. The climb up the wall begins now.

This Day We Fight!

Final Thoughts

Shoes? Shoes.
Shorts? Shorts.
Shirt? Shirt.
Bodyglide? Bodyglide.
Nipple Guards? Nipple Guards. (Don't laugh).
Foam roller? Foamy.
Shuffle? Charged.
Garmin? Charged, and ready to get thrown into either of two rivers.
Three inhalers, two allergy pills, and vitamins? Check.
Expectations? Low.

I think this marathon is going to be a disaster, yet I am oddly at peace with it. Yes, I was undertrained, but I think I made a pretty good comeback here over the last few weeks. But then, I fell apart, and this week has shattered my confidence.

I've worked a total of eight years at my current job, and I think the past month has been one of the busiest, most challenging ever, and I believe this week was the single most stressful week of all of those eight years. Its taken it's toll in lack of sleep, and I suspect it was a factor in the weird respiratory illness that I had earlier in the week.

After this week, 26.2 miles sounds easy.

Until I start running, that is. I've often blogged about how I really have no idea whether a run is going to be good or bad until I start. That's even more true than usual this week. I felt terrible on Monday and Wednesday. I think my meds have cleared my lungs out, but it seems like my energy level just isn't there yet, despite getting better (but not great) nights of sleep on Wednesday and Thursday nights and eating a lot of energy-filled foods. I just have no idea what I'm going to feel like when I start running, and that's scary.

I'm sure it sounds like I'm making excuses, and that is not my intent. Nor do I mean to be my usual negative self. I am acknowledging that real life kicked my ass this week, but I am going to finish the race (barring injury, of course) It is also not my intent to claim that circumstances have been tougher than that of any other runners -- only tough in the context of my own experience. I saw a motivational picture last week that said "Right now, someone busier than you is running", and that's my mantra for Shamrock.

But this is also not an admission of defeat. I don't care if it takes me six hours (though I'd prefer it didn't), I am finishing. I think there will better races than this ahead of me, races in which I am better physically prepared and in a better state of mind. Despite the race's cheesy slogan, I highly doubt this will be "The Best Time of My Life" in any sense of the phrase. But I will finish.

And right now, that's going to have to be enough.

Good luck to all my fellow Philly Marathon, Half Marathon, and 8K runners! Have fun. Finish the race.

Being Sick is Bad, M'kay?

It's race week and I'm trying to take it easy.

I ran 3 miles on Monday night and 3 miles on Wednesday morning. Neither one was good. On Monday, my calves hurt, my feet hurt, and my stomach hurt. On Wednesday, I had less pain in my legs but just felt like I wasn't getting enough air and didn't have enough energy. I don't feel like I could have run 5 miles, let alone 26.2. I'm undertrained by marathon standards, but not THAT undertrained.

I suspected that I had or was getting a cold, and also that I have just burned myself out too much with work stress and long hours over the past two weeks.

So, part 1 of the remedy is three inhalers, Singulair, loratidine (the active ingredient in Claritin), multi-vitamins, and Airborne, which probably doesn't actually do anything.


I've also been eating a ton of protein in an attempt to give myself some energy, and I'm trying to make sure I get adequate sleep leading up to the marathon. That's been a challenge. I worked Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights, staying up until the wee hours of the morning. I can usually subsist with little sleep, but between being a little sick and stressed out, and oh yeah, since I have a marathon on Sunday, this wasn't going to work.

My brain just stopped working completely at around 9:00pm on Wednesday night, and I vegged in front of the TV and was in bed by 11:30. I woke up not quite refreshed, but feeling much improved. I have to make sure I do a better job resting, or Sunday will be a disaster.

Almost There: The Last Long Run

Today was the last long run before Philly -- 8 miles, as per the plan that I've done soooo well in following. It wasn't a great run or a terrible run. It was 8 miles, I ran it. End of story. I fell off of my plan and struggled for most of October, but the last two weeks have given me a measure of confidence back.

Now, I'm starting to get freaked out about the weather. The forecast is fluctuating wildly. Yesterday, the forecast predicted a 60 percent chance of rain on Sunday, which would be bad news -- I've never really done a long run in the rain. I've gotten rained on and misted on, but going out and running 26.2 in mostly rainy conditions is not something that fills me with cheer.

One day later, the outlook is much better. Weather.com says cloudy with a low of 51 and a high of 57. That's ok, and I know most people would take that in a heartbeat, but I'm signed up for marathon in late November in Philadelphia...I want it to be cold!! Give me a starting temperature in the 30s and I'll be a happy man. But, most importantly I'll be doing my "no precipitation" dance!

The good thing for me if that forecast holds (and it probably won't!), is that it will make gear selection really easy. No need for a long-sleeve shirt, jacket, gloves, etc. It'll be ok, I know it will. I'm just a worrier. I'll have concerns about the weather no matter what it is, so for my own sanity I probably just shouldn't look at it until Thursday or Friday morning so I know what to pack.

I'm ready. As physically ready as I'm going to get, and with some confidence restored after two solid weeks and last week's 20-miler. Mentally? Ok. I wouldn't quite say I'm excited and "looking forward to it" is probably still a bit too strong, but I'm not quaking in fear, either. I want to get started, and I want to get it over with. I am DEFINITELY looking forward to a huge omlet and lots of bacon at my favorite Philadelphia brunch place, Little Pete's, after the race.

Too Late, He Hit the Panic Button

I know you're getting tired of hearing this, but I had the best of intentions this week. I knew this was probably my last chance to pound the midweek miles and still have a chance to taper properly. I ran a tough 4-mile hill workout on Monday, and was fired-up to get out again on Tuesday night. The crisis of willpower that's haunted me over the last month was over.

But then, I started coughing. By the end of the day my throat was swollen and hurting quite badly, and I knew a run was out of the question. On Wednesday afternoon, my doctor hooked me up with a ProAir inhaler and prednisone, both of them steroids, and they made a huge difference almost immediately. Though I felt much better, I still felt like I had too much tightness in my chest, so I put my run off until this morning.

Since a winter storm (in October!) is barreling toward us as we speak, scheduled to drop 6-10 inches of snow tomorrow, I decided to make this my long run, which was scheduled to be 12 miles. I ran 12 miles in 2 hours. Not bad, in and of itself.

For a variety of reasons, most of which have been under my control, I clearly haven't done what I've needed to do to be ready for this marathon. For most of October, nailed my long runs but managed only one or at most two midweek runs.

As I prepped for Shamrock, my level of focus was just so much better. I've trained for both marathons during two of the busiest times of work I've ever had, but while I used work stress as motivation and looked forward to my nightly runs in January and February, in October it became a reason not to run. In hindsight, I think my IT band injury was the best thing that happened to me. I was running very good 16 or 17 milers, right on schedule, and then WHAM!, I could barely even do 5 right after the injury. It made me work really, really hard to get back. I didn't get all the way there, but under the circumstances, I think I did the best I could.

This time? I did a great job staying ahead of schedule all summer and had some great long runs in September and October, and maybe I rested on my non-existent laurels a bit too much during the week and I definitely feel a little burned out on this running thing right now. I certainly took advantage of every possible excuse. I guess it helped that I hurt my knee in late January, a month and a half before the race. This fall, I ignored the warning signs till it was almost certainly too late.

I have to run 26 on November 20th. I ran just 16 this week. And even with my 20-mile long run last week, I still got only 26 miles total last week. If I were a wiser man, I would probably switch to the half marathon. I'm just going to do the best I can on race day, even though it won't be very good even by my Shamrock Marathon standards. With a little bit of walking, I made it through 20 miles just one week ago. As long as I don't let my endurance decrease any further, I think I can finish this race in the approximation of one piece.

My plan? Officially I should be tapering, but I'm going to try to have a last tough week of midweek runs, and then get a last good long run of 18-20 miles. I'll try to follow that with another good week of shorter midweek runs, and then my last long run is scheduled for 8 miles. To make up for the abbreviated taper, I'll do probably do two 2-mile runs and a walk during the last week instead of the two 3-mile runs.


Wow, that was a downer. In summary: Cats...playing football!

One Month

Am I ready? No, not quite yet. I still have one, maybe two 20-mile long runs to go.

Here is my dilemma -- to which I would welcome advice:

Two weeks ago I ran 19 miles. Last week, I ran 13. Technically, this Saturday is 12, followed by 20.

I'd switched the 19 and 13 for scheduling purposes, but all along had been thinking that this Saturday was 20.

Instead of having two pretty big step-back weeks in a row, my inclination is to try to run 20 on Saturday (It's not a sure thing -- this has been a weird week for a lot of reasons), and thus have another chance the following week in case I don't make it this week. If I do make it on Saturday, then I would probably try another 20-miler, or a shorter but still long run of 17-19 miles before beginning my taper.

So that leaves me with this modified long run schedule loosely based on Hal Higdon's Novice 2 (of which I've followed the long-run schedule really closely until the past two weeks):

Date/Distance Comment
10/8: 19 (Felt good. Started tiring at 15. Primarily blaming poor pacing and not eating)
10/15: 13 (felt really bad for most of this)
10/22: 20 (Bad week, but I feel better than earlier in the week and the weather looks great)
10/29: 17-20 (This is where the 20-miler is actually scheduled.)
11/5: 12 (Taper)
11/12: 8 (Taper)
11/20: 26.2 (Race)

I think I'm closer to being physically ready for this marathon than I was for Shamrock, but mentally this is tough. I'm healthier, but also a little less driven than I was then. I was insanely busy at work leading up to both of them, but I think I have a more complicated maze of deadlines to navigate this time, meaning it's harder to get miles in at lunch, which was a great option for me in the spring.

I know I can finish this race. It won't be pretty, it won't be fast, and I have to re-evaluate my goals a bit, but I'll finish. I'd hoped to drop down to 4:30-4:45 from my current 4:58ish PR. (Don't judge me!). I think even that modest improvement is probably better held for Shamrock, where I'll have the benefit of training in all cold weather, and will know the whole course.

During this last month, I want to keep hitting my long run distances, but get back into the habit of shorter, consecutive-day runs during the week. That seemed to help me with endurance in the Spring, it's just not something I've done as good a job with this time around. No excuses.

My time is growing short, but there's still things that I can do to help myself.

Friday Haiku, Volume VI

Hot humid weather
Turns running into a chore
That pays off in Fall

At least I hope it pays off in the fall, especially on the morning of Sunday, November 20.

There was nothing at all fun about running on this muggy morning, but at least I got 10 miles in compared to 7 on Wednesday. And it's Friday (as Friday Haiku implies). That's awesome, too.

Have a nice weekend.

The Hunt for Cold November

I've had many a summer run, and if you're bothering to read this you probably have, too. You know, those days when the humidity is crushing and it just feels hard to breathe out there. I'm fond of saying that on days like that it feels like I should be running in scuba gear.

:
That just wasn't going to cut it today. Today was more like this:


I've had (by my modest standards) a great summer of running so far. I had eight 10-mile runs in June and 3 of 10 or more in July in just this first week of July. I had zero runs of 10 or more miles between the first week of May last year (Broad Street Run) and October. But, this is the first summer where I'm training for the Philly Marathon rather than the half, so for the first time in my "career" I'll need to get longer runs than that in July, August, and September. (My total mileage might not increase much, since I'm going try to follow the mileage plan a little more strictly than I followed my last one, where I on average ran one fewer time per week than called for but lengthened all my midweek runs.) 10 miles won't cut it.

I never felt like I had it, whatever it is, today and crashed after 7 miles out of an intended 10. I'm not too worried. Weather.com said there's an air quality warning today, and I did feel like my breathing was as good as usual. Also, I was long overdue for a bad run. I do think I need to try something new to make these summer runs more enjoyable. I really like running at night, but the volume of bugs in the air at night makes that seem gross in the summer, and it's not that much cooler or less humid than it is in the morning, so it's probably not worth it to eat a pound of bugs.

I'm already pushing my limits of getting up early, but perhaps getting up a little earlier and doing at least my long runs on the rail trail, where there's some shade and maybe more of a breeze (maybe?) will make these summer runs a little more bearable. Maybe bringing the Shuffle back will at least distract me from how gross I am.

Or, I'll just have to grin and bear it and hope it pays off in November.

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After getting several recommendations to try a visor for sun protection w/o the heat of running in a hat, I bought a white Reebok Playdry visor from Dick's Sporting goods, where it was labeled as being on sale for $7.49 and then rung up as costing less than $4.00. (Original price: $16.00) I believe it was so heavily discounted because it was the 2010 model. It seemed to be identical to a 2011-labeled visor, which was also discounted but not as deeply. They had Reebok visors available in black and reflective yellow, although I think only the one I grabbed was marked down as much. I love baseball caps, but visors aren't a good look for me, so I wasn't too worried about aesthetics. Lightweight, light-colored, supposedly moisture-wicking, and not too expensive were my selection criteria. That said, I own many pieces of goofy-looking running gear, and I don't think my new visor is among them.

I wore it on my run today and it didn't make things worse. That may not sound like a glowing endorsement, but from someone who hates running in the heat as much as I do and (sorry to be gross) sweats as much as I do from my head, that is pretty high praise for headwear. It certainly didn't make me feel less disgusting, but it was definitely an improvement over running with sunglasses, which always make my face feel much hotter. Hopefully the visor will let me get my face and eyes some sun protection without making me feel hotter. We'll see how it does on a less hazy day with brighter sunshine.

I've been meaning to occasionally do some product reviews here in hopes that I'll eventually get some free gear to test (at least I'm honest, right?), so if the visor performs especially well or turns out to be a cheap piece of crap that doesn't last a week, I'll be sure note that here. If it helps, it's one of the best bargains I've ever gotten and probably would have been worthwhile at $16. If it doesn't, at least I didn't pay full price!

Good Week of Running

I had a good week of running. Counting the week from being Monday through Sunday, like dailymile (the site I use to track mileage) does, then I ran 43 miles this week, my second-highest weekly total ever.

• Monday -- 10 miles in 1:36:33 (9:39 pace)
• Wednesday -- 10 miles in 1:37:21 (9:44 pace, also this one was a different route than the other 10-milers)
• Friday -- 13.1 miles in 2:08:48 (9:49 pace)
• (Saturday 12 mile bike ride)
• Sunday -- 10 miles in 1:40: 30 (10:03 pace)

At first, I wasn't thrilled that I got slower throughout the week, but I think that's just a meaningless artifact of looking at one week of running in isolation. I usually run every other day, so I'm not normally more well-rested at the beginning of a week than I am at the end of one.

Last Saturday, I ran the 10K race instead of a longer "normal" run. It was a tough race, but maybe I was more rested than usual on Monday. However, 1:37 for 10 miles is right about where I've been this spring and summer so far, so it wasn't like I was blazingly fast due to extra rest. Wednesday is a tougher route and I ran 3 extra miles on Friday, and they weren't too far off my norm, anyway. The 13.1 was quite a bit of my half marathon race times, but faster than I usually am when I train at that distance around here.

I'm going to chalk up this morning's slower than usual 10 to the return of some really high humidity after two beautiful mornings as well as likely being less rested than usual, since I ran longer than I have in months on Friday and biked yesterday. Oh, and maybe the four Yuenglings, 2 burgers, and 2 hot dogs I consumed at Lake Meade yesterday may have had something to do with it, too.

(A pirate's life for me.)

I'm getting pretty close to the point where I should probably stop "just going out and running" without any sort of plan and get on a program to train for the Philly Marathon. I think I'm going to go with Hal Higdon's Novice 2, since it doesn't require me to run more often than I'm doing now, so I know I can fit it into my schedule. If I were training in the winter, when running at lunch or right after work is more within my temperature comfort zone, I would probably bump up to one of the Intermediates, but I still feel like a Novice right now.

I'll probably make a few modifications:

• In terms of mileage, I'm ahead of where I need to be to start, so I think I'll shorten the program and begin with Week 5.
• Higdon doesn't have any speedwork in the program, which is great since I hate speedwork. Since I wouldn't mind getting at least a little faster, though, I'll probably run one of the midweek runs back and forth on the hills between Manchester and Mt Wolf.
• Lastly, if I feel up to it, I'd like to bump the 18 and 19 mile runs up to 20 miles. The longest training run for Shamrock that I was able to complete was 18 miles, and I think that was part of my downfall. That would give me three 20-mile training runs.
  

I'm not looking for a BQ, but I would rather not walk four of the last five miles again.

The Cursed Shirt

I'm borrowing an idea for a post, here.*

Schwag
Most races give away some sort of "schwag" to attract runners. Usually it's a t-shirt, and hence my closet is overflowing with shirts with the names of various 5Ks on them. More recently, it seems, race directors have upped the ante and are offering technical shirts, shirts made from supposedly moisture-wicking material designed for running, which can be pretty expensive. At a bigger race, you can also purchase souvenir items at the expo. I've bought a Shamrock Marathon t-shirt; a Broad Street Run hoodie and tech shirt; a Baltimore Running Festival Hat; and plenty of stuff at the last two Philadelphia Marathon expos including 2 half marathon hats, a long-sleeve half marathon shirt, a mug, and the unfortunate Cursed Shirt referred to in the title of this post.

Race T-shirt Etiquette and Superstition
Whether from tradition or actual superstition, there's a couple of unwritten "rules" of race etiquette about wearing your race shirts. The first is "Don't wear the race shirt to the race," meaning, for example, that if you're running the 2011 Higgy and Pooka Race for the Cat Food 5K, don't wear your 2011 Higgy and Pooka Race for the Cat Food 5K t-shirt during the race. I've always felt that the main reason behind this is the perception that doing so labeled someone as a noob, rather than the savvy, veteran road warrior we all want to pretend we are.

Personally, I don't care what people wear to the race. I was very strongly advised by a friend, who is a savvy veteran road warrior, not to wear the race shirt to my first 5K, but I see this "rule" broken all the time. Many people ran the Shamrock Marathon in the very nice long-sleeve tech shirts we got in our schwag bags, and when I watched the Disney Princess Half Marathon, the race shirt was a very popular choice among runners on race day. I've got my two favorite sleeveless shirts that are my usual race attire, but I wouldn't look down on a noob anyone who runs in the race shirt, and I think anyone who does is kind of a jerk.

Another commonly-held superstition or point of race ettiquette is "don't wear the shirt of a race you haven't run." (Or, "don't wear the shirt of a race you didn't finish.")

If you ran in a race but didn't finish, in my opinion it's ok to wear the shirt. You signed up, you gave your best effort, and you were in the race. If the shirt was clearly intended as a "finisher's shirt", you probably wouldn't have gotten it unless you crossed the finish line, just like you wouldn't have gotten a medal if that race had them. But if it's a race you weren't in, it becomes a bit more questionable. By wearing it, aren't you bragging about something you didn't do?

The Part Where I get to the Point
Here's where my Cursed Shirt comes in. The 2009 Philly Half Marathon was my first of two half marathons (I also ran it in 2010). It remains one of my all-time favorite races and I'd recommend it to anyone looking for a cool-weather 13.1 with interesting scenery and a fun location. I was pretty confident that I could complete the race, and in addition to the shirt I got at packet pickup, I bought a ton of crap at the expo. I have, as mentioned above, a 2009 half marathon hat that I wear all the time and a long-sleeve t-shirt that I really like, too.

The problem is that the event is really branded like it's "The Philadelphia Marathon and oh, yeah, also there's maybe also a Half Marathon". There's much more "marathon" stuff than "half", and that's one of my pet peeves. Finishing a half marathon is a great accomplishment and it's a more popular and faster-growing distance than the full, so don't make half marathoners feel like second-class citizens.

The Philly Marathon attempts to get around this by emblazoning most of the merchandise with "Philadelphia Marathon 26.2 13.1 and 8K". Alternately, the Baltimore Marathon (ack! now I'm doing it!) is branded as the "Baltimore Running Festival" (but also has "Baltimore Marathon" stuff), and most Shamrock Marathon merchandise says "Yuengling Shamrock Marathon, Anthem Half Marathon, and Townebank 8K Run" or at least "Shamrock Marathon, Half Marathon, and 8K Run".

So, anyway, back to Philadelphia. I ran the 2009 half marathon and have great memories of it. I don't feel bad at all drinking from this mug.

Yeah, kick asphalt! Note the prominently displayed 13.1. As proud finisher of the Philly half, I would have zero compunction at all about using or wearing something with that design. But how can I ever wear this shirt?


It doesn't say "13.1" on it anywhere. I wasn't signed up for that marathon and I had never run any marathon. I bought it because I thought it was cool, and there wasn't nearly as much stuff that said "half marathon" on it. It's a nice shirt, but I feel bad about wearing it. If I'd previously run a marathon, I don't think I'd be quite so conflicted. I've run many a 5K. I know I can run a 5K. If I somehow got a 5K shirt from a race I hadn't run, I wouldn't feel so bad, but this was a distance I'd never even attempted, and at the time had no intention of ever attempting.

Can the Cursed Shirt Ever be Redeemed?
I've now run a marathon, or at least most of a marathon. I've finished a marathon, and let's just leave it at that. Can I this shirt without shame now, even though it wasn't the Philly Marathon?

I am signed up for the 2011 Philadelphia Marathon. If I finish that, then can wear the cursed shirt in public? Or, should must it languish out of the public eye forever, or at least until I steal a TARDIS and travel back to 2009.

Note:
Like most things on this blog, this post shouldn't be taken too seriously. I'm not really superstitious, although I have pre-race traditions (Hooray for the night-before-the-race beer!), I don't think wearing or not wearing the Cursed Shirt will actually have any impact on how much or little my knees hurt, etc. I know, "It's just a shirt, Brian." But, I thought it made for an interesting question, since race shirt etiquette/superstition is pretty commonly held in the running community.

I also don't think any runner should look down what any other runner chooses to wear to a race, even though we've probably all seen and hopefully laughed a little (on the inside) at people that we thought were trying to show off a little too much.

Further reading:
1. *I stole the idea for this post from "The Running Moron", who recently picked up his packet, including a technical shirt, from a race he didn't run due to an injury. In his case, I thought he should wear the shirt without any hesitation, since it was from a race he'd run several times before, a distance that he he'd run many times before, and the shirt didn't have the year on.

2. This is an entry from a blog called "f my injury" that I found when searching for race shirt etiquette. I thought it was interesting and had some good links in it.

Eye of the Tiger

It's been a challenge to get the miles in lately. Go for a run, or hit the snooze button? Zzzzzzzzz...

Get a few miles in, or work late on my day job...which is not blogging about running and/or the Orioles. (Who, as of this writing, are 4-0, their best start since 1997!)? Work is going to win.

"I'm too tired."

"I'm too hungry."

"I ate too much."

I did get a nice 7 miles tonight, my first night run since early March, but it's hard to find a reason to get out there without the threat of a marathon hanging over my head like the Sword of Damocles.

So, with that in mind, I signed up for the next big adventure:



November 20 is a long way away, but it'll keep me honest. I hate running when it's hot, but this will force me to get in at least 1 or 2 double digit runs a month all through the summer. Hopefully I can do better than that and build up mileage to get in the 20 milers I need to run a little better marathon than I did in Virginia Beach. I have a feeling I'm going to be doing my long runs at like 4 in morning or late at night during the week to try to beat the July and August heat, but I'll find a way.

It should be fun. I ran the half the last two years and it was a great tour of the city and a great excuse to eat at Little Pete's and/or the Continental (or somewhere else) afterward. Twice the miles equals twice the cheese steak eggrolls.