Chasing Unicorns ??
I never cared much for running. I was always active--mountain biking, backpacking, rowing--but I could never bring myself to go out and run. That changed in my mid-20’s when a couple of friends convinced me to sign up for a marathon. Sure--why not? As soon as I went outside for my first training run, I was instantly transported back to my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. That feeling of pushing myself across the world to another destination was the closest I had felt in years to being back on the trail. I was hooked.
Since then, my relationship with running has waxed and waned over the years. But I always came back to it. One of the reasons I did was because of the Boston Marathon. I live outside of Boston and near the marathon route. My family and I go out every year to watch and cheer. It is the oldest annual marathon and one of the most prestigious. To register, you need to run a marathon faster than the qualifying times set by the Boston Athletic Association (BAA), determined by your age and gender. In more recent years, you also need to run faster than the qualifying times set by the BAA to be accepted into the race. To run Boston is one of the most prized goals of an amateur runner, and that was something worth shooting for.
Running has had a substantial impact on my professional life, from managing stress, to finding new ways to connect with people, to better understanding what I am truly capable of. We will save these topics for another post. For now, below is a race report I wrote immediately after running the Philadelphia Marathon in 2018 (adapted for LinkedIn). I ran a 3:02:29, averaging just under 7 min per mile. I bested by Boston Qualifying (BQ) time (3:05) by 2:31, and just this week I learned that was good enough to get in. Despite qualifying times that were 5 min faster than last year, you still needed to run 1:39 faster than your BQ. I got in by 52 seconds. It is incredible to think that less than 1 minute, over the course of a 3-hour race, is the difference between achieving a life goal and trying again next year. --Eric
Philadelphia Marathon Race Report: November 18, 2018
Pre-Race, hotel: My wife (“L”) and I were staying in the Marriott Residence Inn, approximately 1 mile from the start. I woke up at 4 am (a normal rise time for me), and ate: a bowl of Quaker Oat Squares cereal with 2% milk, a toasted plain bagel with almond butter and honey, and a 20 oz. bottle of Gatorade. I sipped water as well. I used the bathroom several times, stretched/rolled, and made sure I had everything I needed either on me or carried in my gear-check bag. At about 5:45 am, I got my things in order and headed out the door by 6 am.
Pre-race, to the start: The streets were crawling with hundreds of people heading to the start area. After a relatively short walk, we encountered the first security gate at about 6:15 am. The line seemed long, and the volunteers were telling everyone that if we walked 2.5 blocks up, there would be another checkpoint that was empty. I used the port-a-potty on the way over. Then I discovered what the volunteers had told us was not true: there was a massive crowd of people at the other checkpoint. It took at least 15 min to get through, which felt like an eternity with the 7 am start not far off. Once in, I ran over to the gear check where I encountered long lines at every truck. It took 5-10 min to hand off my bag. I was panicking at this point, because I felt like I needed another quick stop at the port-a-potty, but the lines were too long and there were less than 15 min to get in position in the corral. I frantically found the maroon corral, which was immediately behind the elites and reserved for those estimating a finish faster than 3:15:00. I told myself I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, that I just went and this was only nerves, and that was true--I wasn’t bothered by this for the remainder of the race. I took off the inexpensive hoodie and sweatpants that I bought from Amazon, and placed it in the corral gate to be picked up as a donation. I downed a Gu (French Toast), took a few sips of water to wash it down, and then it was time.
A note about my strategy: I consider Baystate my first marathon (up in Lowell, MA), which I ran in Oct. 2017 (back in 2013 I ran the Disney Marathon, but it was a disaster--so much so that it encouraged me to seek professional help to learn how to run properly). There is no need to reiterate my report of Baystate, but my biggest lesson-learned was “do not start too fast.” After reading an insightful article proposing a course strategy (thank you Russell!), and speaking with Sarah (my coach), I focused much of my mental preparation on internalizing the following: Miles 1-2 at 7:15 and 7:10, miles 3-6 get into a groove around 6:55 min/mi, marathon effort on the hills from miles 7-10, speed up miles 11-13 and begin holding around 6:50, hit the half no faster than 1:30:00, miles 14-19 are flat--hold 6:50ish, then watch the breathing at the turn-around and start pushing down the pace whenever I can: mile 20 can be an “off” mile, miles 21-22 are “on” miles, mile 23 is an “off” mile, and miles 24-25 are “on,” then 0.2 and I’m done. Watch the potholes and hug the tangents. Easy--right?
Miles 1-3: The start was incredibly exciting and naturally everyone just bolts out of the gate. I held back and let my pace waver for a bit until I settled around 7:12. The first mile went by quickly (7:13), and when I saw the time I was relieved I had not blown my strategy already. I let myself get into a groove exerting slightly-less-than-marathon effort, which clocked my second mile at 7:03. Faster than I wanted, but not concerning. During mile 3 there was a downhill section and I let myself run faster as long as my exertion was the same (which was the strategy I used for all the hills). I ran 6:48 which surprised me, but this was about the point I should be getting into a groove and I had big hills coming up, so I figured this was a good place to make up some of that time.
Miles 4-7: I backed off a bit on mile 4 to a 7:02, which was mostly back on strategy. Mile 5 was at 6:55--perfect! Around this time was also my first sighting of L! I knew she was going to try to watch near here because it was close to the hotel. At this point I had also been getting too hot and removed my light neck gaiter in anticipation of handing it off to her. She was cheering so loudly, it would be have been impossible to miss her. I would have ditched the clothing, but I was glad not to lose it for good. Mile 6 was one of my favorite stretches of the course where it runs through Center City. My GPS watch was having trouble given the tall buildings, and so it calculated a 7:22 split. I took my first Gu in this mile (every 6 miles)--Salted Caramel. I practiced fueling a lot on longer runs and it felt mechanical. Within the first 7 miles I took cups from a couple of the water stations, but later in the race I stopped because I carried a small 6 oz. bottle of water which was much easier to drink from without choking. Mile 7 finished out the section in the city and showed 6:25, which I feel is suspect. My effort remained constant, so I assume my splits from the prior two miles average out to what I was running (the average calculates as 6:53 min/mi).
Mile 8-10: I encountered the first big hill at mile 8, but coming off of a Gu I felt fine. The hill was also not very intimidating. I regularly run on hills of similar size or larger. Keeping to the strategy I maintained my effort, which slowed me down only to 6:57. Mile 9 loses much of that elevation, and so I opened it up a bit, again without exertion, and completed it in 6:39. The next hill was larger, and the last major one of the course. As a result, mile 10 went by in 7:05--significantly slower than goal pace.
Mile 11-13: I started pushing the pace at mile 11, which I ran in 6:44. It was mostly flat and the point at which I planned to start picking it up. Mile 12 was mostly downhill, which allowed me to run my fastest split (without GPS error) at 6:38. I also took another Gu at this time (Sea Salt Chocolate Roctane). I felt like I needed it, which concerned me. That meant I was not staying ahead of my energy needs. Mile 13 was cruising along the river at 6:46. I hit the half at 1:30:54--right on target. As I turned back along the river toward the Art Museum, I remembered running the half-marathon here 6 years prior, to the day. It was my second half-marathon, and I ran a 1:32:31. It was one of the most encouraging and formative events during those early days when I was discovering how much I loved running. Back then I was almost finished, but today I was just half-way done.
Mile 14-16: This is when I started to feel like the marathon was hard, and that concerned me being so far out. I felt like I was running out of energy, but I decided to stick to the plan of taking food every 6 miles--that’s what I practiced. I saw L again at this point, which was amazing--her cheering was so loud, it really did keep me going. I ran mile 14 in 6:58, a little slower than planned, likely because of shaky confidence. But once the course flattened out, the run along Kelly Drive was spectacular and nostalgic. I remember coming here a handful of times during my short-lived career on the Univ. of Maryland Men’s Crew Team. I also didn’t see this part when I ran the half, and the novelty of racing on it helped. Concerns were put to rest for a bit and I clocked miles 15 and 16 at 6:47 and 6:53. My watch had some trouble around the bridges, but I think these times are accurate.
Mile 17-19: I started feeling like I was losing it around mile 17, in part because I felt low on energy (again). I ran 7:00 flat, which surprised me because I thought I was putting forth the same effort as before. Concerns were growing again. I took another Gu, Birthday Cake (it tastes exactly like fun-fetti!), which is my new favorite flavor, and which I was saving for mile 18 precisely because I would look forward to it. The course descended slightly as well, which helped me get back on pace at 6:52. Mile 19 hurt: there was a small amount of elevation gain, and I was starting to feel the effects of the fatigue. I ran 7:07, which was discouraging. The crowds in Manayunk helped though, and at this point I started seeing tons of people who I had been running with come back on the other side of the road, so I knew the turn-around was not too far ahead.
Mile 20-22: After so much running through sparse crowds, the excitement in Manayunk was almost overwhelming. I didn’t so much as feed off of it as I treated it like a cacophony of white noise to help drown out my inner doubts. I hit mile 20 right before the turn-around in 6:54, back on pace. The 180-degree turn was straightforward. No side stitches. Nothing left but just 6 miles right back to the Art Museum. I was supposed to push the pace however possible, but I was hesitant to do so. I had done a 23-mile training run, so I knew I could handle the distance, but at this point I briefly remembered how horrible the final 10K of Baystate was for me, even if it was caused by many other factors that were not present on this day (such as the excessive heat). I started seeing lots of strong runners drop out--in fact, I saw them drop for several miles prior, but here it was more noticeable. Every time I saw someone stopped or walking, I said to myself, “they’re not trained.” This was a suggestion from Sarah, and her coaching was spot on. I successfully avoided fixating on the negative image of me stopping or walking. Mile 21 was an anomaly for me: I don’t know how or why, but I experienced a surge of energy that allowed me to put down a 6:47 mile. There was some elevation loss, but I don’t think that totally explains it. Especially since I took a gel 3 miles prior (usually I feel a boost within a mile or so, not after 3 miles). I also started consciously “tunneling” my attention to where I felt lucid and in control, but had completely blocked out everything except what I needed to move forward. I couldn’t hold onto this feeling for very long, but I remember it vividly, as if I achieved a new mental state of being. Needless to say, things got pretty weird at this point. Mile 22 went by in 6:51.
Miles 23-25: I feel like all of my training was for these 3 miles. There was really nothing I could do but bear the pain and remember that I spent months of my life waking up at 4 am to get my runs in, carrying my gear and plotting routes on every business trip, all while being a husband and also a father to both a 3-year-old and an infant. (Side note: none of this would have been possible without L. I did my best to fit running around our family schedule, but there are times, specifically the weekend long runs, where she takes on more to accommodate my training. It’s hard to express how grateful I am for her, her understanding, and her support.) These 3 miles are also when I started to see my pace falter. Mile 23 ran in 6:55, 24 in 6:59, and 25 in 7:14 (my slowest mile). It did not help that I took my final Gu at mile 24, another Sea Salt Chocolate Roctane, and it was just too much. The taste and mouthfeel were overwhelming and I couldn’t get half of it down. I almost didn’t take it, but I was afraid if I didn’t try, I would crash before the end. I had to take small sips of water and forcefully spit a sugary brown mist out onto all my clothes. I just hoped I didn’t get anyone near me. Once I cleansed my mouth, I struggled to put my tiny water bottle back. Despite slowing down and my gradual descent into delirium, I was excited to see the boathouses and the thicker crowds which indicated I was almost done.
Mile 26 + 0.2: There were clocks at every mile, and as I passed the 25th mile marker (and began the final 1.2 miles), I watched the clock tick past 2:54:00. At that point I knew as long as I didn’t completely fall apart, I would be sub-3:05 and qualify for Boston. I held onto that thought and just kept going, relying on my training to keep my body moving until the end. I was able to pull the pace back to 7:02, and according to Strava the final 0.38 (I didn’t hug the tangents tight enough!) was run at a 6:40 min/mi pace. I remember the crowds thickening even more, but I couldn’t see anyone, much less L and her brother and his family (who live outside of Philadelphia). I heard the announcer getting louder with every step, and then at some point I crested a hill and saw a mostly empty chute and the finish line. I crossed in 3:02:29, which bested my time at Baystate by just over 5 minutes and set my new PR. And, amazingly, I had done it--I qualified for Boston despite the new qualifying times.
When I finished Baystate, I was in agony and in such a visibly bad state I had to go to the medical tent for an extended period before they released me. I felt like if I had run another quarter mile I would have passed out. When I finished Philly, I also felt like I had nothing left to give the race, but it felt much more controlled. It’s hard to describe. Still, I could barely walk and I had trouble grabbing my medal, holding the heat blanket, and carrying all the food. I hobbled around for a bit until L and my brother-in-law and his family came around to find me. They were so happy, and I was elated. I was really proud of what I had just accomplished. Going into the race, I had grand ambitions to run sub-3 hours, but it was clear early on that I wasn’t on track for it. And had I gone for it, I’m confident it would have been a disaster. Instead, I stuck to the strategy, relied on my training, and let all the hard work pay off. (Thank you Sarah for guiding me through it!)
To conclude, I loved coming back to Philadelphia and running the full course. Just for fun, I looked at the splits for each half of the marathon, which were 1:30:54 and 1:31:35. Both splits are faster than the half I ran years ago. I think about everything that has happened in the past 6 years and everything I will accomplish in the next 6, or 12, or beyond, if I should be so lucky. For now, my sights are set on Boston 2020.
This work is not sponsored by any corporate or government entity. Any opinions, findings and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this material are solely those of the author.