Vermont City Marathon

As far as the "meatless" part of this blog goes, a small but persistent nagging voice in the back of my head has, for the past several weeks, questioned my ability to run a 26.2 mile race without the benefit of animal-flesh protein. I'm pleased to report that it can be done. No problem.

Two Sundays ago I ran my first full: The Vermont City Marathon. I can't really put into words the euphoric, floating feeling that I've been experiencing ever since, in spite of the lingering soreness in my calves, hamstrings, quadriceps, adductors, glutes, and ankles.

At the risk of being crass, I found that it's kind of like losing your virginity. You build it up to be the Holy Grail of your existence; you start to wonder if you'll ever accomplish it; at a certain point it looms as a distinct and realistic possibility. Then it happens, and you feel, in a small way, that you're a different person; there was a you before and a you now, and those two people are not quite the same.

And in my case: I can't wait to do it (run a marathon, that is) again.

RunVermont, the organization that oversees this marathon, did a simply spectatular job. There is no better adjective. The race was incredibly well-staffed. Except for the long, lonely out-and-back stretch along rte 127 (aka the Burlington Beltline) that comprised miles 4-8, there were hordes of people cheering the runners on at every leg of the race. Thousands upon thousands of Vermonters and out-of-towners alike came out just to watch. Never have I smiled so broadly while running as I did when I saw someone holding a sign that read "Hey Complete Stranger! I'm Proud of You!" And this enthusiasm and impressive turnout was in spite of the fact that the starting gun was fired in the middle of a pretty heavy rain.

But the rain was actually a welcome element; for days leading up to the race, there had been murmurs about the possibility of temperatures in the high 80s. Ungodly humidity. A contingency plan for canceling the whole event in the case of extreme heat in the morning. None of this happened.

There are too many highlights to catalog here, but two things really stand out. At mile 15 was the notorious Assault on Battery Hill: a brutal uphill climb on Battery Street from the South End to Battery Park that rivals Heartbreak Hill in terms of steepness and length. This was the part of the race where crowd encouragement reached a fever pitch. Intellectually, I knew that the uphill was difficult, but I didn't feel it physically. The atmosphere was too overwhelmingly electric for my brain to clue my legs in that they should be hurting. At the bottom of this hill, a drumming corps played in such a way that suggested a march into battle. We could hear it from almost a mile away. It looked like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_pMtTmnnPs&feature=related

Then, of course, there was the last 4-mile stretch. My good friend Wayne, with whom I ran most of the race, had apprised me that the last 4 miles would be far harder than the the first 22 combined. This was absolutely accurate. Running has never been so painful or mentally discombobulating. By this point my legs were begging me to stop, my feet were blistered and both heels were bleeding into my running shoes. A medic at the Mile 24 marker told me my eyes looked glazed.

As I rounded the corner into Battery Park, two wonderful things happened. The first was that my favorite This Will Destroy You song hit its crescendo, and I don't think I'm physically capable of NOT digging in and speeding up when this happens. The second was that the final .2 miles comprised a gauntlet of cheering spectators. There's nothing quite like being in the final moments of accomplishing a 2-year goal while thousands of people cheer you on and reach out for high fives.

Anyway, the vitals:
3:33:29
8:08 Pace
325th out of 2,668 overall
43rd out of 187 in division (Men 30-34)

Huge thanks to Job and Olivia Larson for their incredible hospitality - it doesn't get much better than having a place to stay less than 3 blocks from the starting line.

Big high five to Wayne Pacileo. Sorry I missed New York registration. How about Chicago?

But most of all, love and sincere appreciation to Tianna Tagami, my biggest fan; without whom, I am certain, I would not have been able to do this.

Heartbreak Hill Half

(N.B. I started this post almost three weeks ago, the day after the half, and then got distracted with work and other things.)

Yesterday (i.e. Sunday May 15), for the second year in a row, I ran the Katie Lynch Heartbreak Hill Half Marathon. It is without doubt the most challenging races I've ever been involved in. I mentioned in my hill repeat post last week that it gives runners who haven't made it to the Boston Marathon the opportunity (if you want to call it that) to run the most notorious hill in American road racing. And indeed, there is some serious satisfaction in putting that sucker behind you.

As an aside, I can't more highly recommend participating in The KLHHHM. It is a really wonderful race, both in theory and in practice, and they just added a 5K this year, which I presume will continue; so you can get in on it even if you're not quite up to a half marathon. The registration fee and community donations go to a marvelous cause, and the story behind Katie Lynch and her own personal 26.2 ft "marathon" -

http://www.boston.com/marathon/stories/2001/giant_steps.htm

-is sufficient to be heartrendingly inspirational even to unsentimental cynics like yours truly. And then the race itself is organized and staffed so efficiently you'd think a Full Metal Jacket-caliber drill seargeant had been hired to run things. Crowds turn out all over Newton to cheer on the runners (in spite of the cringe-inducing 7:30 a.m. start time), and in general the race just exudes community spirit, friendly competition, and runnerly camaraderie.

My decision to run this year was more or less a whim. Last year I trained six long months for this very race. It was hard not to feel a little bit cocky going in. While I shaved a not-too-shabby 13 minutes off of my time from last year, I did not meet my goal of breaking 90 minutes. And I learned two important lessons: one dietary and one existential.

As to the former: Dairy and distance running do not mix. I've always been a believer in a yogurt-based smoothie (see the second post in this blog for the recipe) as both a pre- and post-workout demi-meal. I need to either rethink this, or find a different base. The smoothie, plus the milk in my cereal, plus a little cream in my coffee all added up to my spending most of the race fighting the urge to veer off-course and vomit. Whole grains and black coffee only before long runs, from now on.

As to the latter: Cockiness does not pay off. My thinking going into this race - and I was fully aware that I was thinking this way and ought not to be, but couldn't seem to shake it - was that since I was full-marathon training, a half would be a walk in the park. Simply not the case.