Common Ground with Benjamin Franklin

So, the area above my left ankle was hurting in the week or so leading up to marathon day, and definitely swollen. I had a minor though obvious limp while walking. And then after the race, it was very painful walking around -- so much so that I thought I might have actually broken my ankle during the race. Making my way to the taxi at the airport coming home, and then getting to and into my apartment was hideously painful.

And during the couple of days afterwards, the foot kept on ballooning. To the point where my ankle bones were no longer visible. (!)

Thankfully I was able to get into urgent care quickly the day after I returned home (and dug myself out). The NSAID that he prescribed for me has done a very good job of bringing down the swelling and alleviating the pain. (Elevating it and applying ice also helps.) Hopefully soon I will be able to run properly again, as not doing so is definitely driving me batty.

Fingers crossed this is the one and only time I have gout. Odd that I got it, given I don't match the profile of someone likely to develop it. Nor was it in a typical location. Look at me, being the oddball. (Hmm... that much isn't so out of the ordinary for me, I suppose. :-) )

Miami Marathon: Feelin' Hot, Hot, Hot

As ever, I woke up nice and early to give myself more than enough time to get ready: go to the bathroom multiple times, eat my minimal breakfast (banana and granola bars), get dressed, and in this case, and bring my baggage downstairs for them to hold (since I would not be back in time to shower and change before check-out time) before heading out from the hotel. A large portion of the pacer team was already gathering in the lobby when I arrived, and shortly afterwards we took an "unofficial" group photo before swarming out the door to head over to the Kaseya Center.

Given how close that arena is, we arrived as close to our meeting spot as possible (separated by some barricades) several minutes ahead of time. Finally, the clock struck 5am, they moved the barriers aside, and we streamed up the steps to gather for our official photo.

We were then free to go our separate ways, though we had been requested to be in our corrals by about 5:15am. That wasn't happening, as there was too much else to do (not least of which was drop off my bag at gear check and use the restroom on last time -- inside the arena, rather than the portapotty), and the crowd was so large and signage for where I needed to go so insufficient that it would take a wee bit to manage it.

And, of course, take a few photos of the area.

Ultimately, I managed to get into my corral somewhere between 5:30 - 5:45. (Still well before our corral's expected start time of 6:30am.) While it was already filled with lots of runners for both the half and full, there was enough space for me to weave my way to the front of the corral -- since my 4:30 pace time was to be the fastest of the pace groups in Corral H.

While the race started on time at 6am, it was clear pretty quickly that they were running behind schedule, as each corral was having its own distinct wave start, and it seemed like it was taking about 5 minutes or so for each. 6:30am arrived, and they were either finishing up Corral D or just about to start up Corral E. Needless to say, we were very late to start. (So, had I gotten a late checkout, it would have been largely eaten up by the delay anyway.)

Finally, they announced Corral F, and it flowed past us. We had a local running group (all wearing hot pepper hats) form a human chain in front of us, as they would be the ones to escort us up to the start line in a controlled manner.

This photo of the start line was taken by someone else, presumably before the first corral set off. Because when we arrived, there were two barricades, one on either side of the opening, making the opening that we set off from about the width of one travel lane -- maybe five people at a time could get through it. No wonder why this was going so slowly this year compared to last year!

And we were off! I crossed the starting mat at about 6:51am.

As you may recall, about half a mile in, we make a right-hand turn onto the on ramp of a highway that leads toward Miami Beach, and this on ramp is VERY narrow to start, and gets slightly narrower as you get near the top to merge onto the main roadway. So, while the start line bottleneck delayed the start an increasing amount, it had the effect (presumably intentional) of spacing out people enough so that we did not have a bottleneck ON the course at this on ramp -- thereby affecting people's actual elapsed times. OK, I can live with that tradeoff.

It was about 73F at the start, and both in the corral and in advance of each of the water stops, I made sure to remind my group of the importance to "drink and douse." While they might not need to drink the water and/or Gatorade at every single stop, they sure needed to throw water over their head each time to keep their core temperature down.

Everyone in my group (who responded) seemed to be in good spirits, despite the difficulty of the heat and humidity. 

One of my perpetual gripes relates to the water stops. Miami was no different. Although they certainly had long enough tables for their stops, and were typically in the same order (Gatorade before water) and in different colored cups (two of my biggest pet peeves that races don't usually get right), what was dismaying was that very early on (maybe even as of the first water stop after Mile 1?) it was clear they didn't have nearly enough cups available, nor enough volunteers to hand them out, and the cups of water were well over half full -- great for splashing, but not ideal for those who drink from them. (No idea about how much was in the Gatorade cups -- I never touch the stuff on course.)

As we were in the vicinity of about Mile 9, I came across someone who I knew who was supposed to have not only started after me, but intended on running slower than me. What the heck? As I was nearing him, I commented on my confusion at seeing him, to which a person who was with him indicated they were right where they expected to be at that point and that maybe I was just slower than I should be. (Um... no, that certainly wasn't the case.) Very confused, I kept on going apace. (No need to engage any further on the topic.)

At about 20km, my mom, who had come down to watch the race, caught my attention as I approached the pre-planned location (though I hadn't realized it until she made herself known in a wide open space among the spectators). In the many times she has come to cheer me on at a marathon, this is the first time I actually saw her. (And, it turns out, it sounds like the first time she's ever actually seen me, as she's often been caught up in conversation with other people around her and didn't know that I was passing.)

Shortly thereafter, the half marathoners separated from us to their finish as we marathoners continued towards Coconut Grove before making our way back to the common finish line. But with the halfers split off, it was MUCH more manageable -- there are far more of them that occupy the space than those of us doing the full.

While the vicinity of about Mile 16 is pretty, given the ocean views we get on this out-and-back stretch of the course, it is one of the most difficult simply because you bake in the sun with absolutely no shade available. Once we finish that stretch and make our turn back onto more residential streets, we at least have the chance of shade.

As is so common, especially with races run in such high heat, most of my pack slowly but surely fell off pace. In the last few miles, I only had one of the people who had been with me from the beginning (though I did wind up picking up a couple of other people along the way). As we were approaching Mile 25, I gave my standard announcement advising that if anyone stuck with me through Mile 26, rather than breaking ahead of me before then, that they must make sure to charge ahead of me at that point. I want them to finish earlier than me, at whatever is top speed for them at that point. The lady who had been there the whole time took it to heart immediately and slowly drifted in front of me - likely finishing at least a minute before me.

Late in the race approaching the finish, this gentleman and I wound up next to each other. Because of some natural drift (from one or both of us, I could never quite tell), he was constantly brushing me with his right arm. (I wonder if he was thinking similarly about me brushing him with mine.) I just couldn't shake that, and was focused on staying fairly central in the roadway.

As we approached the Mile 26 marker, my timing was such that I could slow down just a touch to aim for "the pin" (30 seconds under the time on my sign), so I did. But as we got to the last turn (which seemed like it was well over 0.1 miles after the marker), it seemed like there was a bit more distance to travel than I was expecting. So, I picked up the pace and started to charge into the last turn and towards the finish line. (Something that is unusual to do as a pacer)

While that combination got me across the finish a touch later than I wanted -- but still in my acceptable window -- it had the benefit of no longer having any bumping between me and the other gentleman. :-)

As is clear from the finisher results, it was 81F when I crossed the finish line. Very warm. But I got it done! And with relatively little pain from the area above my left ankle that had been troubling me for over a week beforehand.

However, that would soon change. It took me a while to get through the refreshments area into the finisher's village, where there was no signage pointing the way to the food that we would get for our bib ticket -- so I asked someone whose ticket had been used to point the way -- and similarly no signage to point our where the charity village portion was supposed to be. I needed to find the specific tent where the pacers were dropping off the pace sticks. It worked out just fine that it took me that much time, because by the time I was about ready to head off to pick up my gear check bag, my mom texted me with where she was located for us to meet.

As quickly as I could manage (really not very quickly at all), I got my sneakers and socks off to change into my flip-flops, lest I have nasty blisters given how soaked my socks got from throwing so much water on me, and getting sprayed many times by volunteers with hoses or water guns. And since I knew I wouldn't be able to shower and change before heading to lunch, I got my pacing singlet off and donned last year's race shirt.

Finally, it was time to head out to lunch. While it wasn't THAT far (certainly less than a mile), it took quite a long time, as I hobbled on my worsened left leg (wow, look at the swelling above the ankle), now that the race was behind me, momentum was totally gone, as was any adrenaline. 

After a brief stop to talk with one of the other pacers and his wife who were crossing the other way along our route, my mom and I finally made it to June Burgers. But, wouldn't you know it, not only was it UPSTAIRS, but the elevator in the marketplace was out of service. UGH! Get down the stairs afterwards was sure to suck. At least the smash burger and fries that I got were quite tasty -- certainly hit the spot.

We made our way back to the pacer's hotel, picked up my bags, and I escorted my mom back to the Brightline Station for her departure. It was only two more blocks for me to go to catch Metrorail up to the airport where I would catch the airport shuttle to my next hotel.

When I checked in, I asked if I could get a room with a tub. (I desperately wanted to have a cold soak before my warm shower.) The attendant looked at me a bit funny and said that they didn't have ANY bathtubs on property. Sigh. I chastised myself that I need to actually do some better research in the future. Naturally, I was assigned a room... you guessed it... upstairs on the second floor. I asked about an elevator. Of course... they don't have an elevator. I was still in enough of the post-marathon runner's fog that I didn't bother making the natural request to be given a room on the first floor, then. (Not to say there were still any available, but still...) So, limp away I go to one of the furthest rooms on property.

Finally showered and feeling more human again (though in a bit of pain), I finally lay down seated on the bed to veg out and watch some TV before making my way outside for dinner. And that's when I full appreciated the increased swelling.

Looking at that photo now as I compile the blog post, it's kinda quaint to think that was much swelling, as it has subsequently ballooned even further since then. 

After a very painful travel day on Monday (there was no getting rid of the pain despite regular doses of Tylenol and intermittent icing), and a sizable delay disembarking from the return flight, I made it home in one piece, barely managing to get to my front door -- given the mounds of unmolested snowcrete leading to it. The next day, I shoveled my walk and dug out my car fully (and without much pain in my leg, thankfully) -- in order to go to the Urgent Care center (since my doctor's office was to be closed until Thursday). Where the previous day I was worried that I may have actually broken my ankle during the marathon, given the pain and generally increasing pain, it turns out that none of my symptoms actually warranted an X-ray -- no likely break was indicated, and I was just prescribed an NSAID. The pain is almost completely gone, despite my foot looking like a club foot -- about double the size of my right foot. Though I have been advised not to run for the next two weeks to let this heal properly, I'm glad it's just that short a period of time and that it looks like I will be able to continue with my planned race schedule uninterrupted.

Next up? I get to Run the Alamo (and pace the 4:15 group). Odds that I see a photo of Pee Wee Herman in the basement? ;-)

Escaping the Storm: Miami Marathon Weekend

While Northern Virginia (and a large portion of the country) was bracing to be hit by a nasty winter storm on Saturday night, I was mercifully on a morning flight outta dodge to sunny Miami. The forecast was gorgeous. 

Well... for my arrival and departure days, that is. And for anyone who was going to be a spectator at the marathon. But for those of us running? It wound up starting and getting even hotter than this -- rather brutal to run in. But at least I made it (unlike many others, including at least one pacer, who got stuck at their respective homes because of flight cancellations due to the storm).

In the week or so leading up to the marathon, something wonky was going on with my left leg, just above the ankle on the outside of my legs. It was increasingly swollen, very tender to the touch, and not overly comfortable to walk on. But with my workouts during the week, I determined (maybe foolishly) that I was in sufficient condition to run the marathon at the pace that I would be setting.

Lord knows, though, I didn't bargain on just how long and tedious a walk it would be through what seemed to be an interminable terminal at Miami International Airport to get to the MIA Mover which would get me to the Metro Rail. But, of course, because of construction, there was yet an additional transfer after just a single stop. (sigh) Finally, though, after all of that and a relatively short walk from the Lyric Opera station to the pacer's hotel, I arrived. Even though it was about 1pm, they would not do an early check-in, so I left my bags with them and headed up to the expo to get my packet and work my shift at the MarathonPacing.com booth.

Miami and Miami Beach certainly have eclectic artwork around -- lots of murals painted on the sides of their buildings. A couple caught my eye on my walk up.

There was also this curious window display:

I even saw a couple of guys loading many of these delivery robots onto a truck (presumably for repositioning). Amusingly enough, when walking back from the pacer dinner (more on that later), I would see this one's counterpart -- aptly named Judy.

At the end of the approx. 2-mile walk, I was finally in the Wynwood neighborhood for the expo.

Around the back side of this complex was the back of the long, snaking line to get into the expo. There was a Yerba Mate truck handing out cans of their caffeinated drink. I decided to give it a shot, though expected to dislike it despite the expected good flavor, since it said that it was sparkling water -- I'm not one for Evian nor seltzer. But it was neither of those. I didn't recognize there being any carbonation, so it was just flavored water -- and tasty. Definitely something I was in need of after the hot walk up.

After maybe 10 minutes on line, I made my way to the entrance.

Just inside the entry way was the Hall of Flags, where people could take selfies with the flag of their home country.

As I turned the corner, I was greeted by a choice of going onto the long line ostensibly to collect my bib, or to the nonexistent line for the VIP entrance. I chose the latter, noting to the volunteer guarding that entry that I was one of the pacers and that our bibs were sitting for us at the pacer booth. (An unusual system, but one I was happy for.) A couple of turns later and I was at the booth for my shift.

It was a really fast-moving hour, answering all sorts of questions, related to pacing, race morning logistics, course logistics, and all manner of other usual questions. (Though the most frequent one was where to find the race shirts -- they were in the next room.) I was able to advise several people who were first-timers to NOT attempt their stretch goal time, given how unforgiving the heat and humidity were going to be, and that they should simply enjoy their first race (which was a guaranteed PR so long as they finished), finishing safely and uninjured. Before I knew it, the hour flew by, and I was relieved at the booth to enjoy the rest of the expo and head on back to the hotel.

The expo was pretty standard in terms of vendors, etc. Generally speaking, I don't purchase anything at expos any more given I have everything that I need/want for my marathoning. If I need to replace something or get a great deal on Shot Bloks, I'll jump on them, otherwise, nah. But I'll certainly accept the various freebies. This time around, it was a 360 photo/video. (I added the audio on top of it.)

Despite having paced for the marathon the previous year, I decided to attend the First Timers talk anyway, to see what they were telling everyone. Sometimes it can be good info, or simply a reinforcing reminder of something to be cognizant of. There was one piece of "advice" I thought was problematic, at least the way I was hearing it. It sounded like the speaker was telling people that they didn't need to use every water stop on the course. And while, strictly speaking, that's usually true, with the heat as high has it would be, even if they weren't going to drink something at every stop, at the very least they should throw water over their head at each stop. He didn't mention that -- then again, I've never heard anyone giving a similar talk at any other expo mention runners throwing water over their head to stay cool.

Done with the expo, I ventured back to the hotel to check in and try to prep my gear for the following morning before heading off to the pacer dinner. On the way, I passed the following construction scene - which didn't seem to have been overly different than the previous year:

I've asked many long-time Miami residents over the last few years what these arches are supposed to be (both being down for the marathon and for a couple of cruises), and not one person has the slightest clue. (Can you help?)

Back at the hotel, I checked in and was refused a late check-out (meaning I would need to bring my bags down to the front desk on my way out to the race, since I was set to cross the finish line at the same time as check-out). Sigh. Oh well - not unexpected. But annoying, as I would much rather being able to shower and change before doing anything else on the day. C'est la vie.

The most annoying part of the hotel, though, is the fact that they have five slow, non-partitioned-by-floor elevators for 51 floors of hotel rooms and condo apartments. The line was essentially out the front door continually, with only a few people getting on at a time. It took at least 10-15 minutes to finally get on an elevator up. With only a few minutes available to me before heading out to dinner, I unpacked a bit and started to set up for the morning. (I prefer getting that out of the way as soon as possible.) Before I knew it, it was time to go to dinner.

Silly me, I didn't pad enough time to get the elevator down. The line to come up was still very long (as I would find out), and it was even busier because of the people who had checked in that were trying to descend to go to their evening plans. More than 5 minutes after arriving at the elevator bank (where someone else had already been waiting), the first elevator arrived -- packed to the gills. They instantly shut the doors on us. Alright, wait for the next one. A few minutes later, that one also arrived, packed to the gills, but I squeezed my way on before they could press the close button. Slowly but surely it descended floor by floor. I finally had the feeling of what a Shabbas Elevator was like. :-) 

On my way to our restaurant, I came across a neat sculpture reminiscent of Wall Street, NYC:

More than two dozen pacers from the team running the half or full marathon met up for dinner, socialized, enjoyed a pretty tasty Brazilian buffet, and got our usual expectations "briefing" before heading back for the night with an early wake-up call that would ensure we were at the starting area in time for a 5am group photo.

This is one of few races where the team is not only put up, but is put up SO CLOSE to the start. And we even had a nice few to boot.