"Everyone Get in Line"

Nothing can come between us...extra points for getting both feet off the ground at the same time.

Post Mortem

Well, I know I haven't communicated much process for a long time. I can tell you that I've: worried some; taken a few more "long runs;" used the treadmill relatively briefly, at speeds up to five mph (briefly) in the tropical rec center environment. Also, as a result, I think, of unwise computer posture/environment--sitting on a soft couch and reaching forward to type on a low coffee table--in the last week before the race I developed pain in the lower back, which would affect me sharply on bending forward or reaching to the right. It had been many years since I'd seen a chiro, but his--eventual--diagnosis was a quadratus lumborous muscle that was not pulling its weight. The exercise, if you're interested, involves assuming a classic pin-up pose on your side and using your forearm on the floor to raise, and hold, your body in a straight line off the floor.

On to the payoff: 4:47:48. Third quartile of all men and men in my age group. Fairly close to getting into the second quartile in the 56-59 group: 49/91. I had estimated a 5 hour finish, and had hoped to beat it. I finished feeling that I still had something left in the tank. I know that the infamous "16 Golden Steps" near the finish, that had many complaining, were no problem for me. I don't know how many minutes I left out there, but I think 17--to get down to 4 1/2 hours--is not unreasonable. I had been warned against the complacency of getting into a pack and falling into the pace of the slowest runner ahead of you--it's classic theory of constraints. It can be difficult, but possible, to get out of such a pack and get some clear trail ahead of you, or even move ahead to join a faster pack, etc. The difficulty in passing is the obliviousness of some people as to what a simple, quiet, polite "On your left" means. The other side of the equation is people who are literally breathing down your neck, stepping on your feet, or otherwise touching/pushing/"embracing" you before you have any inkling they are passing you. My back got plenty tight; I found that assuming a fetal position balanced on my toes seemed to provide temporary relief. I was drinking at every aid station--Gatorade when available--and carrying a partially-filled Nalgene bottle of Gatorade on my belt in back. I had taken two aspirin around 5:00a, and took a couple more around 10:00. It's probably more info than you feel you need, but despite all this drinking I felt no urge to pee throughout the race and even after several hours at the summit.

The weather started nice at the 7:30a start of the second wave, but the starter said that rain was expected around 10:30. What an understatement. I don't know exactly when it all started, but there was light rain, light grauppel, heavier rain, hail big enough to hurt, fog, thunder...and LIGHTNING. The line of runners continued stoically, fatalistically, up the trail. Indeed, what else is there to do? I know that certain runners talked of hitting the deck when a boom and a flash went off near them. The weather got really intense at, and near, the summit. The road was closed, no vans in or out, so that hundreds of runners were stranded in the Summit House, a space too small for so many. There was no room to stretch or lie down, and for most, no chair to sit in. Many, like me, sat on the floor, and looked for postures that would alleviate the pains and cramping of people who had just run 13.32 miles and climbed 7,815 feet. Food ran out, and a number of people were treated for hypothermia. The line to take the vans, when they resumed, was long. After several hours, an extra train on the cog railway was sent to take me and several hundred other runners down, a slow trip in the same cattle car atmosphere as the summit. Amazingly, I didn't hear any runners who were signed up to "double"--do the marathon the next day--say they were considering not doing it.

Summary: my "training" was plenty. I beat my goal, achieved respectability, and felt ok both at the end and the next day (as I write.) My feeling is that a fairly fast round trip on a fourteener--such as the one Miranda and I took last month up Gray's/Torrey's--with its downhill section, takes a much greater physical toll, at least on 56 year old legs.