Good start to training

My pace for February needs to be about 7:15/mile downhill/flat, and about 7:45 - 8:00/mile uphill on that 2.5% incline at miles 4-6. So far in my most recent training cycle, I've been running 8:00/mile flat and about 9:00/mile for miles 4-6 on a 3% incline. 

Strategy is to confirm that I'm at an even effort between those two, and slowly nudge things up without raising my HR an excessive amount.

So far, it's working. Those two paces/inclines have been giving me the same effort/HR at about 130. This next week, I will see what cranking it up to 7:30/mile flat and 8:30/mile @ 3% for miles 4-6 gets me for HR. Hopefully I can stay in the low 130s.

Alas, a trip soon to NYC (no running at all) and FL (running only on flat) will put a brief crimp in the plan, but I shouldn't really lose much uphill fitness. I'll still have over 1 month to get things going properly. While I'd love to repeat my sub-3 at Mesa, that's not part of my planning as of now. I think Mesa may turn into my "A" race each year to give me a BQ (and possibly NYQ) time, allowing me to simply do pacing gigs of various stripes, etc. for my other races.

Oops, change of plans

For the last several weeks, ever since I had signed up for Dismal Swamp, I had a Plan B in the event that I didn't get a sufficient BQ: to run the Houston Marathon in mid-January.

As is typical for me, I didn't sign up for a near-term next marathon in the couple of days following a race. When I finally got back to the website for Houston yesterday to try to register, lo and behold, it was SOLD OUT! *sigh* Well, good thing my hotel reservations are always refundable (I canceled it last night), and I never buy the plane ticket until after race registration comes through - so no worry there.

So, what to do? I looked at lots of different options. The contenders:

Baton Rouge, LA and Mobile, AL on the same weekend in January as Houston

Mississippi River (AR); Dublin, OH; Mesa, AZ; Melbourne, FL; Dalmatian RunFest (Fort Worth, TX); and El Paso, TX in February

Myrtle Beach, SC and Irving, TX in March

The rationale for most of these as opposed to a few others that popped in my search? Relatively flat courses.

What won out? The familiar and net-downhill Mesa, AZ. I've run it the past two years - my first time I got my only sub-3. And even when I failed to get that the second time around (this Feb), I got a BQ that was good enough to use for Boston 2024 (and would be good enough for 2025, were I to get that time). 

So, while I won't be pursuing a sub-3 (unless training over the next 8 weeks go fantastically), I'll be shooting for both a BQ and a NY qualifying time to be used for 2025. I need to make sure that most of my treadmill work is with an incline of 3% for miles 4-6 of any run of at least 6 miles (since that's where the sizable hill is on the course). I need to make sure that this doesn't slam me like it did earlier this year.

Dismal Swamp - apt name

The plan for today was to get a sufficient BQ time that I can use for 2025, since my time from Chicago surely will not be anywhere near close enough to sufficient. And my stretch goal was to get a time I can use to qualify for New York 2025.

And this past week has seen pretty darn cold temps in the morning, getting only into the low or mid 50s for the high. You'd think that was a good recipe.

Well, as predicted earlier in the week, rain came through last night and the temps were WARM today. We started the day in Chesapeake at about 61F and it went up to about 65-70F. Oh, and the humidity, as I discovered last night, was 90% for the entire time. Dismal Swamp, indeed. Ugh!

That weather is a recipe for my not being capable to hitting a fast time. And that proved to be correct again today.

I arrived early, signed in to get my bib (small enough race where they have you pick up your bib before the start of the race), and braced myself. A few minutes before race start, I remembered that I had turned off the GPS on my watch for the treadmill running (since it has been screwy otherwise, indoors, lately), so I switched it back. And then, when trying to set it for the outdoor run, it froze. With 1 minute before race time. And this process ALWAYS takes multiple minutes to proceed. I kick it off, but it was nowhere near finishing by the time the starter was counting down from 10 seconds. F*ck it, Murphy was going to be with me for the full day, apparently -- both for conditions and pacing.

We set off shortly before sunrise (at 6:45am -- 45 minutes after the 100k race started) and very quickly I fell in with two guys a little younger than me. I asked them what they were shooting for -- 3:15. Perfect! I'd stick with them, especially since I have no functioning watch to check my pace. (And this is a small enough race where the only clock on the course is at the start/mid-point/finish line.)

Well, so much for THAT plan. During the first two miles, they compare the times on their respective Garmin's (7:00 and 7:20 -- hmm...). Not only were the temps too hot, but so was the pace, regardless of which was accurate. And I tend to think it was closer to 7:00. There were LOTS of pockets of hotter/more humid air, and a few pockets of cooler air. (No, not breezes.) This made it all the worse, when we ran through the hotter air. Somewhere between Mile 2-3, I slowly lost pace compared to them. I didn't even try to keep up, since doing so would have been disastrous for me.

Once it was light enough out, I was able to read the markings on the mileage markers -- every .25 miles. So, I was able to do the calculations of what my pace was a few times. Suffice to say, by the time I hit half-way, I was 5 minutes off that pace (10 minutes off full time - and that compared to my BQ time, not my desired time). Strangely enough, while I did see them shortly after the first turn-around, quickly thanked them for their efforts and said it wasn't in the cards for me today, I never saw them again (and we should have crossed two more times). I don't know if it's just because I didn't recognize them separately (two guys in black t-shirts weren't with each other again), or they dropped. I'm hoping it's the former, but I can't get to the results page to try to find their results.

My final time on the day: 3:52:57. Empirically a good time, but atrocious compared to my goal for the day.

The logistics for this race were very different than what I'm used to. They had one sizable food/drink tent at the start area (I didn't really recognize it as available during the race, though it was) and two drink stations set up en route to the 6.55 mile turn-around point. Out and back on a super-flat course, twice. And, scuttlebutt was that they made sure to do the necessary paperwork to get it certified as an Olympic qualifying race because there was one lady who was trying to qualify at it -- approx 6 minute pace was what she was looking for. I figured that there would be a timing mat or some race official at the turnaround point -- something to prove that all of us actually did the distance on each lap. But no. The only mat was at the start line, so only 3 splits were recorded (start, half, and finish). But, apparently, there is no needed for such an interim mat for the course to be certified. Bizarre, but them's the rules.

The water stations themselves were VERY short. Basically one table with about 2-4 people at them, each one with two cups -- one water and one Gatorade. They asked you on your approach which you wanted, and they held out the correct cup. A little tricky on the first station given there was enough of a clump of runners, but certainly no issues after that.

I was QUITE happy with the post-race food they had available. In addition to lots of bottles of different flavors of Gatorade, and water, they had pizza (cheese and pepperoni), pretzels, M&Ms, Skittles, Rice Krispie treats, different types of granola bars, and probably a couple of other things. This was presumably more intended variety-wise for the food that the 100k runners would need for fueling throughout their race, though it was gladly offered up for the marathoners.

UPDATE: The race results (and race photos) are finally available on the website (now two days later), and I was able to find the bib numbers for the two men I was running with. One of them smashed his 3:15 goal and was in under 3:13 -- and was first in his age group! The other (if I am seeing things correctly) looks like he didn't finish, as I'm not seeing the bib number in the results, nor a finish line photo (where there are a few other photos for him). So, clearly my not seeing the two of them after that first turnaround was partly me and partly not. :-)

Clean Bill

Approximately an hour after finishing the Boston Marathon in 2022 (as recounted contemporaneously in this blog), I wound up collapsing/passing out for about 1-2 seconds (mercifully not hitting my head on the floor). At the time, it wasn't truly clear what happened. I was rather insistent that it was merely because I had both legs locked while I stood against the wall in the mall while waiting for my mom to exit the ladies' room. But there was certainly lingering doubt as to whether there was more going on.

Over the course of my next two doctors appointments (September and this past April), I had additional tests, including an echo. While the echo results themselves weren't particularly concerning (as they pretty much matched what my previous echo results had shown), my doctor referred me to a cardiologist just to play it absolutely safe.

I've had a couple of visits since, including earlier today, where I underwent an exercise stress test. The tech performing the test advised me of what in would entail, and I wondered just when it would actually wind up completing. It starts out with the treadmill going at 1.7 mph and a 10% incline (though I don't believe the incline was anywhere near that steep to start). That barely had my HR budge, my BP increasingly slightly (as expected), and my EKG staying consistent. At 3-minute increments, the speed increased by approx .7mph and the incline by 2%. Very slowly my HR and BP would increase. By the time I was at 4.2 mph and 18% incline, I was still only at about 50% of my max HR (and the test is supposed to go until you hit 85% of your max HR, if there isn't anything that stops it prematurely). Finally, at 5 mph (which is the awkward point that is too fast for a walk and too slow for a run) and 20% incline, my HR started rising a bit. At last, after more than 16.5 minutes, at 5.5 mph and 22% incline, I hit the threshold of 144 (85% max HR). My legs were definitely feeling heavy and sore by that point (I never do particularly steep inclines) and my HR felt like it was racing much more than that HR would imply -- certainly labored breathing. 

Phew! Glad it was over. But everything was normal throughout the test; no issues whatsoever. Nice to have that baseline if/when I need to repeat the test however many years down the road. Next up, one more echo in a couple of months.

Since that one Boston, I have paid closer attention to how I am feeling after crossing the finish line. It's never been uncommon for me to be a little light-headed, especially if I'm going full-tilt across the line, or to even get an awkward reaction in my ears that have my hearing affected as if my ears just popped in an airplane. But I think I've finally figure out why. In Sydney, it was crazy hot, and despite hydrating reasonably well (I thought), I was still somewhat dehydrated at the finish and felt some lightheadedness. At Atlantic City, I recognized that I did a poor job of hydrating during the last half (and it was a temperate day), and was VERY lightheaded afterwards for at least 10-15 minutes. The only thing that kept me from collapsing was continued movement while I chugged an extra 1 or 2 bottles of water and a bottle of Gatorade en route to my hotel room. After MCM 50K and NYC, despite my protestations to my fellow runners around me at the finish who were standing still in my way that I would pass out if I didn't keep moving, there was actually no issue at all. It seems I was perfectly well-hydrated, and didn't have any hint of lightheadedness whatsoever after either race.

So, while I do have some continuing, consistent issues that have been found during my echos (and will continue to be monitored), any post-race issues don't seem to have any connection to them. Just hydrate well enough, and I'm good.

What are your goals?

Recently, a friend asked me a very good question about my marathons: "So, what exactly are your goals, now? You've done all the majors? You've got a World Record. So, what's next? 7 Continents? 50 States? Something else?"

Damn good question. I didn't have a huge list of bucket list locations to run: Athens (the original marathon -- of course!), and Great Wall of China (not likely to go there while China is run the way it is). Sure, there are other places I'll want to run, but huge desire?

Two things I definitely plan on doing more: pacing. Currently, there are two groups/companies that I doing a small amount of pacing for. I would definitely like to do some more, and gladly rack up a few more states in the process. So far, I only have 18 states (+DC) and 5 foreign countries on 4 continents (missing Africa, South America, and Antarctica - the last of which I don't have any desire to ever run on). In addition to pacing for those groups, I have also sent some initial inquiries to Achilles International about being one of the guides for their disabled athletes. I'm not yet sure how I can do this for races since I am not close enough to the local chapter to go on training runs, but maybe it will be by being a "blocker" keeping the Achilles athlete safe from all the other runners on the course. We'll see.

So, what am I looking at? In the near-term, I have one last race for 2023 that I signed up for shortly after NYC... Dismal Swamp in Chesapeake, VA next month. It is my last chance this year to have an acceptable qualifying time for New York City 2024. (Though apparently with their new system, it actually won't guarantee me an entry.) And if I can manage that, it will serve double-duty as a guaranteed sufficient BQ time for Boston (since NYC's qualifying time is 11 minutes faster than my BQ time).

Beyond that, there are several items that are largely on my calendar:

• Houston (my "A" race to get a BQ time if Dismal Swamp doesn't get me at least a BQ-8:00 (3:17)), but which I can drop if Dismal Swamp works for me.
• Boston
• London (not currently registered, but have an opportunity to be a pacer -- fingers crossed I'm selected)
• Paris (the mass participation event after the men's marathon in the Olympics)
• MCM (I need to decide whether I'll be pacing the marathon or the 50k)

Other races I'm considering offering up as a pacer:

Miami (FL), Pocatello (ID), and Wineglass (NY) -- only 1 new state in those

Do I sign up for Toronto again for another GWR? I can't this year if I plan to run MCM 2024, since they are the same date.

One highly amusing option is the Boston Marathon UK, if I wind up as a London pacer to try this. That would give me Boston (MA), followed 6 days later by London, and then 1 week later in Boston (UK). There's a fun symmetry there, and a triple that I think very few people ever do.

Other options include some races in Spain, Iceland, Brazil, Norway, and Easter Island, in addition to several more states (which would add 4-5 new states to the list).

No, I will not be doing ALL of these, but all of them (save, likely, Toronto) are in play. I plan to keep my roster of races in a given year to 6-10 total. (And at that rate, it will take me 3-5 more years to hit 100 marathons - a now-realistic goal.)

NYC Marathon - Race Day!

The morning started off with an extra hour of sleep (the only benefit of Daylight Savings Time ending on marathon morning for NYC) and smoothly getting ready to get out the door at about 4:45am. I double-checked the weather, and it was clearly going to be chilly hanging out on Staten Isand, so I made sure to put on a disposable extra layer of clothing and made sure to bring the cardboard I would end up laying down on in the orange start village, preventing my heat being leeched out from me. Slightly more than 1 mile later (given my hotel was at 31st & Lexington), I ended up at the long and winding line for everyone boarding the midtown buses at the NY Public Library to make our way to the starting village. Given that they never check whether you are boarding the right buses (i.e., not boarding before your reserved time), the line was huge. It took 30 minutes to finally board the bus and, despite our having about 10 empty seats, the bus driver closed the door and took off like a shot while some of the people were still walking back to take a seat. Not bad for timing -- 5:30am bus, and we left at 5:45am. Plenty of time.

En route, I took a brief nap and woke up in time to see the traffic that we were in on the lower level of the Verrazano bridge. Finally, we approached the area where, in the prior two years, the bus used to let us out (with two of the villages on the right) and where many buses were empty and parked, and we kept on going. "What the hell? Where are we going?" The driver took the exit and then made the first left, crossing OVER the highway. Oddly enough, the several buses in front of him (and then him) did a multi-point turn to effectively to a U-turn and return to the service road exit we had just come from, and made our way over the NEXT bridge over the highway, and kept on going. I was extremely spun up, remarking rather loudly that we are nowhere near the village and getting further away. A group of about 5 runners from Denmark were getting a bit concerned with all my commentary and were trying to find out what the situation was, and why I was so concerned. (I explained where I had expected to be dropped off, given my prior times taking the midtown bus.)

We finally made a few turns and wound up right by the Pink village (which is the charity bib village on the opposite side of the highway from the orange and blue villages). Oddly enough, despite our driver being 3rd in line of 5 buses, he backed up into a side area, allowing the other two buses to line up behind the first two, and then he turned out in the opposite direction than we had come, parking on the opposite side of the street before letting us out. (What the hell?)

We made our way through the security check and into the Pink village, and there were absolutely no signs visible that pointed the way to the orange and blue corrals. How the hell were we supposed to get there? Meandering a little bit, somewhat following other lemmings trying to find their way, too, I finally got to the road that goes under the bridge and connects the various runners villages.

Welcome to Fort Wadsworth.

I grabbed a bagel to nosh, and quickly found the Therapy Dogs tent. Lord knows, I needed to calm down from the unexpected route on the bus.

First up, Ailey. Cute little dog wearing a grey denim jacket that was very happy to have me scritch under her chin.

Next up was Rikkie. Very calm, sweet dog who was LOVING all of the attention by those of us coming into the area. When each of us asked to have a photo taken, his handler would have him sit up to make it a bit easier. Very affectionate, licking my cheek a lot. (Lord knows, he would really have loved that post-race, me being more of a saltlick, and all.)

Last up was Sensation. While she was yet another sweet (and very soft) dog, she was a little too hyper to really get her to pose in photos with anyone. 

Sufficiently calmed down, I found a spot and laid down on my cardboard to get off my feet and conserve as much energy as possible. Shortly after 8am, the cannon went off twice -- starting both the men's and women's wheelchair divisions. That was basically my signal to get in line for the portapotties  and make my way to the corral.

As the closing time neared, I took over my outer layer and put the jacket and pants in the donation bin and lined up as far forward in the corral as I could. I kept looking over at the entrance to Corral A as the time was ticking down, astounded that there were people entering up until the very last second. I didn't have a good enough angle to see if there was anyone who missed the time and, therefore, was forced to wait until the second wave (about 30 minutes later).

Finally, the time came where they let us move from the corrals onto the bridge to line up. (On the way, the national anthem was being sung.) I was pretty close to the start line (and this was before we all "crushed" forward), and there were lots of people behind me. More impressive a sight in person than in my photos.

The elite men were introduced, and then they were off, to the dulcet sounds of Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York." The energy was electric, as we all cheered them as they ran by us on the other side of the bridge, and then we focused on our imminent start. Less than five minutes later, we were off, being similarly serenaded by Sinatra.

I didn't have a solid goal time at all. I knew I wanted to be under 4 hours, but figured I would just go by feel as to whether I push for any particularly good-for-me time or not. I took it easy on the incline of the bridge -- the worst hill on the course -- allowing hundreds of people to pass me by, repeating out loud to myself multiple time "Take it easy. Run your own race. No need to catch them." Finally, we hit the peak of the bridge about Mile 1 and then it was a nice downhill. I took full advantage of the excess speed that enabled. Given we were on the left side of the bridge, the exit we took was a longer and shallower decline than if we were on the right side of the bridge (which I was on the previous two years). I took note of both splits and told myself I'd like to keep my pace inside that range (7:10 on the fast side and 8:30 on the slow side). Given that, a 3:30 was in the realm of possibility. 

After passing the first water stop around mile 2, I recognized that I was already (and unexpecteddly) overly warm. OK, note to self: douse yourself at all the other tables. 5k done, and I hit 25:30 -- not shabby. Next 5k was even faster -- ooh, could I really keep that up? After 15k, it was clear that was NOT going to happen, and that it was highly unlikely that I would be able to get 3:30. OK, no problem. 3:45 should still be doable.

Prior to the race, I had gotten a text from my mom advising me that there was supposedly a sit-in going to be staged along 4th Avenue in Brooklyn (unspecified where or when). As I proceeded through the first 8 miles (after which we turn off of 4th Avenue), I kept looking about to see if anyone was trying to intrude on the course. Nope. Nothing beyond the random individual darting across for whatever reason. The police were out in force, and the crowd was kept at bay from the route by blue ribbon strong along the length of the entire roadway. We finally passed the tallest (?) building in Brooklyn about mile 8 (is it a bank?) and turned intothe part of the course where the police wind up doing the worst job of keeping people off of the course. They encroached so far onto the road, that there was maybe room enough for about 5 or 6 people across running -- very difficult to get around any pair of people that were running next to each other. Had they actually been kept on the sidewalks, it would have been a breeze to get through. Regardless, through the vast majority of Brooklyn, the spectators are out in force and are INCREDIBLE with the volume and fierceness of their cheers -- wonderful energy!

By about mile 10 (?), we were it Williamsburg -- a Hasidic neighborhood in Brooklyn where virtually none of the residents come out to cheer on the runners. (It's the exact opposite of the rest of Brooklyn -- nearly dead silent.) Rather, they simply go about their regular business, some giving a side-eye glance, and often walking across the course without paying any mind to the runners barreling down at them. There was even one point where an ambulance needed to cross to get to a call somewhere on the other side. Amazingly enough, too many of the runners didn't bother slowing down/stopping to make way for the ambulance. Rather, they veered to be able to continue at pace around the back side of the ambulance.

Mile 13, and we were finally out of Brooklyn running over the Pulaski Bridge into Queens. There was one guy at about that time that was running at an extremely fast clip through everyone -- what the hell? The only thing I could think was happening was that he was running a "Dead Last Start" race within Wave 1. (DLS is where someone chooses to be the last person to cross the start line (in this case, it would only be within our wave, I think) and takes on the challenge to pass as many people as possible by the time they finish. It's a very controversial game that several people play during the Walt Disney World Marathon, but I hadn't heard of anyone doing it elsewhere.)

Merely a couple of miles later, we made our way onto the absolutely quietest part of the course: the Queensboro Bridge into Manhattan. It is the most dreadful part of the course. It's a long, steep incline (2nd only to the Verrazano, I think) and absolutely silent save for footfalls. There were a couple of us this time around that tried to make some commentary and get some chatting/energy going, but no one else was playing along. I even tried to rally the 1st timers shortly before exiting the bridge "Hey, where are the 1st timers?!" and absolutely no one replied in any manner. ("OK, I guess there aren't any over here. Nevermind.") I was looking to give them a head's up about what was shortly around the bend. I was able to hear some of the cheers as we neared the exit, and was hopeful that what I was hearing was 58th St., prior to the turn uptown onto 1st Avenue. Alas, no. For the thrid year in a row, despite being 5-10 people deep on this block, it was totally SILENT -- no cheering whatsoever, despite the various gestures I made which are usually used to rile people up to start cheering. (OK, NYC is now "officially" no longer my favorite marathon. This is the spot on the course where I most need the energy from the crowd, and they've not provided it for three years, unlike my first two times running NYC in 2003 and 2004. London now takes the honor of being my favorite marathon, for all that's worth.)

Ever so gradually, I recognize my pace is continuing to slow. After getting through The Bronx and back into Manhattan, I took a look at the total elapsed time. 3:45 was still very much doable, and it seemed like 3:40 might even be manageable. We finally made our way along the slow, long hill that is 5th Avenue and got into Central Park. This is another part of the course where the police did an inadequate job of keeping spectators off the course. While it wasn't as crowded as the segment in Brooklyn, the most notable evidence of the issue was the fact that the blue line (which marks the shortest route -- the officially measured distance) was underneath the feet of spectators on the right side of the course. Heck, it was behind some of the blue-ribbon barrier that was up in spots. (What the hell?)

Down the rolling hills, out onto Central Park South, right at Columbus Circle and back into the park, it was a fast dash remaining to cross the finish line. And, yet again, I wound up hollering at many people "Move! Coming through! Get out of the way!" as I made my way from a sprint to finally getting to walking speed. NOT something that I ever want to do instantly - rather, I prefer takinga few dozen yards. Why people are incapable of moving to the side to stop is beyond me. 3:42:22 -- nice! Especially for my 5th marathon in 7 weeks.

It was a long, slow march for about ½ mile to collect all of the post-race goodies: our medals, bag with food and drink already in it, and poncho It was no surprise that so many people treated these various items the same way they treated the water stations -- going to the very first person at the front of the long stretch of table where the same thing is offered, and stopping dead to wait for it. Come on, people, go further down, take it, and continue moving. Do NOT stop until you can get out of the way. Sigh.

Eventually I made my way out of the park, down to Columbus Circle for a finisher photo, and continued my trek to the hotel to shower, change, and get back out to cheer on the back-of-the-packers. With all of the extra walking (both to catch the morning bus, then post-race, then to and from Central Park South for cheering, I tacked on an extra 9 miles to my marathon day. (Oh, my poor feet.) Dinner prior to cheering was a near repeat of last year (and my typical post-race meal) - a really good burger at Yardhouse in Times Square.

I got to Central Park South and 6th Avenue at about 5:30 and stayed cheering until about 7:15. Even though the thermometer was saying it was in the upper 50s, it felt like the 40s to me. There were lots of people still on the course. Some smiling, some grimacing, a few held up by fellow runners and escorted up the road towards the finish, determined to cross the finish line, despite the clear pain they were in. While I wanted to stay longer (especially if the barricades that marked the route were going to be taken own like they were last year - so that I cold make sure they all stayed on course and didn't turn into the park early), my feet screamed otherwise. I still had over 2 miles to walk to get back to the hotel so that I could take off my sneakers and use the Normatec boots. I waited until there was a decent-sized gap between those who had just passed me and the next who were yet to arrive so that the next runners wouldn't see someone abandoning cheering for them. On the way back, I stopped by the Winter Wonderland in Bryant Park to get dessert -- the apple cider donuts and hot apple cider that I had been eyeing since 2021. It was worth the wait - they were both perfectly timed for what I needed at the time.

I will hopefully be able to continue qualifying for the New York City Marathon based on time -- the time I need for my age group is 3:14:00. (I was actually thinking it was supposed to be faster -- that was the prior age group.) I would very much like to get to a point where I'm part of the 15+ club where you have a guaranteed entry into the marathon if you want it. (Granted, you still have to pay the high entry fee, but you don't have to worry about getting the spot.) Given that I think that qualifying for Boston 2025 is going to require being at least 8 minutes below BQ time (mine being 3:25:00), shooting for sub-3:14:00 in a race prior to Boston in April is a good goal that will serve double duty. We'll see!

NYC Marathon - Expo

The day started off rather amusingly with what appeared to be an intended physical impossibility on the Long Island Railroad at the Huntington station.

Typically, trains at this station showing "Huntington" as the destination are eastbound, and those showing "Penn Station" are westbound. So, having those last two trains arriving at the same time was an interesting sight. As it turned out, the Huntington train was westbound, and immediately in front of the other train. Surprisingly enough, no conductor ever wound up coming through the car I was in to collect the tickets. Free ride!

First off, I went up to the Runners' World Adidas Clubhouse for a couple of programs and to partake of some of the many freebies they had available, to include getting worked over (for about 10 minutes) by a Hypervolt massage gun. Oooh... that felt really good. Especially on my back. Alas, I wouldn't be able to do that for myself. I already have Normatec boots, so less inclined to get the massage gun.

Next up, making my way to the expo at the Jacob Javits Center.

Given it was the first day of the expo, it was virtually empty. Enormous space that had very few lines of any length. After making my way around to see the various booths and making a couple of signs that I plan to bring out to the Mile 25 area after I finish, I made my way to the Citizens Stage. I was there to catch the tail end of one program related to recovery from the marathon, and then caught the live taping of the Set the Pace podcast, co-hosted by the CEO of the TCS NYC Marathon and Meb.

There were several questions that were sent online that they started off with, and then about 20 minutes in they went to the audience for questions. I had the first question that I posed to Meb. Alas, he didn't quite answer it - not as I had intended, anyway. Where I was asking something specific to him (how does he deal with the silence of the 59th Street Bridge since he has virtually no other competitors around him), he gave a broad answer about what we should relate it to. Helpful for most people running it, though.

After leaving the expo and getting a pretty decent dinner near Times Square, I meandered briefly, stumbling upon the Dia de los Muertos festival in Times Square.

Finally, I made my way to the Barrymore Theatre.

Good show, with a totally packed audience, but it is VERY difficult subject matter. This is certainly not a happy musical. And, unfortunately (though not surprisingly), it doesn't have any songs that one would learn to sing like so many other standards. 

Alas, I won't be in the city on Friday to join in the Marathon Manaiacs photo. Looking forward to getting in on Saturday and then toeing the line on Sunday. Let the excitement build!

THIS is the weather we're looking for

Just as Chicago had glorious weather for its marathon a few weeks ago, dare I say so far the weather is looking just as great for the NYC marathon on Sunday.

Staten Island, where we start out, should have a morning low in the mid 40s with moderate wind.

And then the forecast for New York City as a whole (likely centered on Manhattan, where both the middle and end of the race are located) is nearly identical.

These are the conditions that everyone who ran MCM yesterday would have LOVED to have had.

And as difficult a course as NYC is (and one where I don't ever expect to BQ), I wouldn't be surprised if there is an above average number of people who BQ tomorrow. Granted, it won't be anywhere near the nearly 10k people who got a BQ in Chicago, but still...

MCM 50k in the books!

What a day! 

Out the door before 5am, I made my way to Rosslyn, expecting a minor hassle getting to the hotel. Last year, I had reserved a parking space in the Hyatt Centric (where I had parked previously), only to discover that the perimeter made it inaccessible. And the police wouldn't let me in, despite having proof of the reservation. So, this year, on my way to the expo on Saturday, I stopped by the hotel to ask them if I could get some semblance of a parking pass that I would be able to use with the police assuming they would set up the same perimeter. They did me one better -- they gave me a non-activated keycard. (I'll be able to hold onto this to use in the future. Sweet!) Turns out, it was all for nothing. While some of the rest of the perimeter had shifted yet again, the back portion at Key St. and Nash St. was open. So I was able to turn up to the hotel without having to use the keycard. Sweet! Definitely a good start to the morning.

After getting myself together to get out the door and make the 30-minute walk to the runner's village (through a couple of security checkpoints that took no time given no bags), I had some time to just sit down and relax, waiting for the other 50k pacers to arrive for our group photo. Ultimately, only two others showed up for our photo; I think the others were concerned about the amount of time they had to get into the corrals so passed up the photo.

We then made our way up to the "corrals" to prepare our respective groups with some advice for the race and let them know our strategies for how we were going to be pacing the race. For us, we were going to be going even effort and walking the water stops. I couldn't stress enough the need to not just drink, but to also douse themselves with water at EVERY stop.

And before you know it, we were off! It was about 65F at the start. Wonderful to stand around in, but already hotter than desirable for running, especially with the high humidity we had. We had a very engaged group, many of whom were willing to chat it up, asking questions and answering others. Sam (the guy in green) was like a drill sergeant with some of the questions he was asking - it was really very amusing, and did get some extra participation. Amusing since a different runner in the group was the ACTUAL Marine drill sergeant stationed at Paris Island. (And who had never run longer than 5k before -- and he was taking on the 50k with less than 1 week's notice!)

Within the first two miles, Otto (my co-pacer) and I drifted apart, he further up than me. I was doing my damnedest not to go out "too hot" with my pace -- and there were a few times (looking at my splits afterward) where I was definitely far faster than I should have been (sorry!). Walking the water stops very much helped get that under control.

As we were approaching our left turn away from Georgetown at about Mile 4.5, we saw the lead hand cyclists zipping down on the right hand side of the street on the marathon course. Along the out-and-back, we had many hand cyclists zooming along, nd thankfully every time they were on the left, so it made things much more predictable than previous years.

Finally approaching the Georgetown merge, and it worked beautifully (unlike in 2019). We merged in with marathoners that were going at about the same pace as we were, and there's plenty of space in Georgetown for that fullness of the field to be present.

However, once we made our way down and around and past the Watergate, we made our way to Rock Creek Parkway (I think that's the road), and it was an ENORMOUS cluster. It is EXTREMELY crowded here for the entire time because there's only two lanes of road. And the water stop on the outbound stretch was an even bigger cluster, given that TONS of people crammed over to the first table making it hard to get around them to get to later more empty tables. The same thing happened on the return stretch.

By the time we make our way to the Kennedy Center, things open up a bit and there's a reasonable amount of space to run. A couple of miles further down, we get to the quietest part of the course: the Blue Mile. Thankfully, everyone was just taking it in, not talking. As we got to the end of the stretch of signs honoring the fallen and we could hear the cheers from the people lining both sides of the course holding American flags, I give a shout to my group, "For all of the fallen we just passed, give me an 'Oorah'!" which got a resounding "Oorah!" response.

We make our way around the end of Haines Point and up into the District ("welcome to the seat of dysfunction!"). Within about a mile or so, one of my group members slowly breaks away from the group (well done, Rita!). And at the next water stop, where I'm expecting tables on both sides (and I'm on the left side of the road at this point), there is no water stop on the left. In fact, I barely notice the water stop on the right, with several tables folded up even. With was a really bad sign that they were already running out of water on the course, despite the fact that we had another couple of hours to go, and that there were still another hour's worth of people behind us, even. (Little did I know at the time that actually wasn't true.)

Slowly but surely, I see another pacer ahead of me, and I think I caught back up with Otto. Nope, it was actually the 4:45 marathon pacers. For about a mile or so, our groups merged up, but they had a bit of a faster pace, so wound up drifting further ahead. But not before imparting some good advice to my group for The Bridge that we were going to get to soon enough: don't look straight out, rather, look down at the line on the pavement. It's just such a LONG stretch where there is nothing to look at, no landmarks, and totally exposed that it is VERY draining, both physically and emotionally.

By this point, another one of my group had broken away, and it seemed like I only had one person from my original group left with me. He was definitely breathing heavily, but he was keeping up. We would intermittently talk a little bit, mostly my imparting what the next thing to expect on the course was, including the fact that I would walk the water stop on the bridge, even though it was merely a filling station (no cups - there never are at that one stop). 

Into Crystal City, we only had a few miles left. Alas, they didn't have the one fire hydrant going that they frequently do (dang it!). Down and back, and I long since wasn't able to read the tiny print on my pace band, but kept on doing the math of what the pace needed to be. Each mile marker I'd do the math again, and we were spot-on for hitting time -- tighter than I like being. Each time, I would make sure to tell him, so he could make his decision at any time to break, and I could give him advance warning if we were falling off pace. But, thankfully, I managed to push through.

The last two miles apporaching and passing the Pentagon to get to the Iwo Jima Memorial finish line is DREADFULLY dull and difficult. All the moreso on hot, humid days. We both kept pushing, hurting. We had 1.2 miles left, and 12.5 minutes to cross the finish. At my 10:30 pace, we were barely going to make it if I picked it up a touch. When I finally saw the 26 Mile sign (a few hundred yards in advance), I yell out to him and anyone around me "If you've got another gear, use it on the hill!"

We finally make the turn onto the hill, and I scream at everyone in front of me, "Move. Take the Iwo! Run, run, run! You got this." I then look to the right side an make a scooping motion with my sign to everyone else, "Come on! Take the hill you got this!" I then make sure that I'm pushing it as hard as possible. I look at my watch and see how close I'm getting to my goal time and just how much further I have to run. Will I make it? I started to doubt it, but pushed myself "Go! Go! Get it!" and stop my watch (without looking at it) as I cross the finish line. "Keep moving! Don't stop! Out of my way! I can't stop so fast! Watch out!"

Finally, after getting some dirty looks from my fellow exhausted runners, I managed to get down to a slower pace and look at my watch: 5:30.00 -- you're shitting me! I don't believe that it was exactly on the button, but didn't know if I spilled over or went under time by the fraction of a second. Turns out, I barely made it under the wire: 5:29:59. Phew!

I met up with my running buddy briefly, and with my co-pacer (who said he had finished only about 30 seconds earlier -- which really was my goal time). 

After getting the medal and passing up a photo at the memorial, I made my way to the post-race drink, food, and "paper" jacket, but the fence set-up was so cramped there were multiple bottlenecks. "Move people! I need to keep moving, or I'm going to collapse." Mercifully, I managed to get out of there without getting light-headed (I did a good enough job hydrating today as opposed to Atlantic City last week), eventually stopping by the med tent for some Tylenol (to belay some of the expected pain). Not too much later after dropping some stuff in my car and taking advantage of a real bathroom in the hotel, I got back into the car to head on home. 

 

It wasn't until my return drive that I heard on the radio that the race had shortened the time limits by 30 minutes because of the humidity. Apparently there were LOTS of people in distress on the course and they were overwhelming ERs, and ran out of medics/ambulances on the course. When you get down to it, the negative effects were eminently obvious before the race started when they made an announcement that 23k people were running, and they had 30k gallons of water. There is no way that 1.33 gallons per person across the entirety of the course was going to be sufficient when most people would not only be dousing themselves with multiple cups of water at each stop (like me), but also drinking the water (thankfully, I carry my own for drinkning). They knew far enough in advance just how warm and humid it was expected to be, they should have arranged for more water and cups. That they didn't was a MAJOR fail on their part, and certainly one of the causes that led to how many people were in distress during the race.

Glad to have survived well and brought some of the group across the line under time. Now it's a week of recovery leading up to my (currently) last race of the season: New York City. I figure I will wait until Wednesday or Thursday to decide what I want to do for a goal on Sunday. Though I may just wind up going solely by feel, not looking at the watch at all at what my pace is and having it be whatever it turns into. After all, I'm not pacing for anyone, and there is zero change that I will get a BQ on NYC's course (let alone one that would be useable to actually get in for 2025), so is there a particular reason to try to hit a time? Not really.

Looking forward to getting another MCM in the books next year. I need to decide if I want to bother continuing with the 50k or bring it back to the marathon. The medal for the marathon is generally better than for the 50k. This year, the "extra" that they were supposed to have in the hidden compartment was a set of MCM dogtags. No such thing (or any other extra) accompanied the 50k medal Heck, anyone who might have wanted to engrave it couldn't, since there was insufficient space on the back of it to do so, given what was already there.

Cluster at the Expo

Once again, Marine Corps Marathon's expo returned the the Gaylord Convention Center. And, boy howdy, was it a cluster!

To start with, I took the blue line to Van Dorn to take the shuttle. (Previous years at the convention center, I parked at Eisenhower and took that shuttle.) After coming down from the platform and going outside, there were no apparent signs anywhere. So, where the heck are we supposed to go. Well, I chose to go right, figuring that the bus would stop around the end of the platform away from the normal buses that drop off there (which is what was done at Eisenhower). And given that I was wearing my red Marathon Maniacs pacer jersey and walking with purpose, about 30 people who got off the train to also go to the expo fell in right behind me. After all, I knew where I was going. Nope! Someone else was able to quickly get online and find something that indicated we should have gone to the other set of shuttle shelters. Sure enough, when we got to those, there were 8.5 x 11" signs on the shelters pointing out where to be, and one person on a camping chair who was able to call up one of the nearby shuttles to pick us up. Really? You couldn't have a sign pointing the correct direction at the exit -- a simple sandwich board saying "Expo This Way"? sigh

Fine. Get the snafu out of the way today, have a flawless day tomorrow. So, the directions that this volunteer in the camping chair gave the driver (and the driver double-checked we was understanding correctly) wound up with the driver taking us to the wrong place -- the employee entrance around the back side of the hotel. A couple of minutes later, she was pointed to the correct location around the front of the hotel. "We're getting Murphy out of the way today" I yelled in the bus. Try to get the others a little more relaxed.

We finally make it to the front of the hotel, and there's a huge line. At first I wondered if it was merely a line of people done with the expo waiting to board buses. But, no, NONE of them had the bags from the expo. Clearly, this was for entering. Really? WTF? It took about 30-45 minutes to make our way down to the expo. To make it worse, we noticed that there was SEPARATE expo being held at the same time, with its entrance further down the same hallway as we needed to go. And they didn't have a good system for getting the flow of people exiting -- both lines crossed each other, where they totally had no need to. Come on, these logistics are EASY, and you had tons of time to figure it out in advance. And given the fact that this took so long, I had no opportunity to get lunch. (I figured I'd be able to get a relatively quick bite before going inside, but no. And there wasn't anything in sight anyway -- no food vendors.)

Inside, it was speedy to get the bib and the shirt -- no lines at all. Why it took so long to get in when it didn't look like the security was bothering to look at any of the bags being brought inside is beyond me. It was very tight inside a relatively small ballroom (given the number of people that were crammed inside). Some booths had long lines (especially the ones with samples), others were relatively empty. (Pretty standard, actually.)

Relatively quickly, I made my way to the Marathon Maniac table and joined in for my shift (and a little longer) answering questions from plenty of people about what pacers are and how we do it, whether they need to sign up, how to find us, what our strategy for the race is, etc. Lots of people. Hopefully they wind up finding the pacer they want to start with tomorrow given our instructions. I also hope that the colored bibs/"corrals" don't wind up messing anyone up, assuming they actually do enforce the corrals (which most of the time they don't).

While it was very quick getting back to the bus after I decided to leave, traffic was at a crawl getting to and onto the highway. What should have been about a 15-20 minute drive was definitely longer. (I didn't look at my watch, though, to know just how much. Likely an extra 10 minutes.) Fine. Back on Metro, I had a fair bit to go, since I had to go the ~10 stops up to Rosslyn to transfer to Silver for Reston/Wiehle, where I parked. Finally at my car at 4:15pm, having last eaten at about 8:30am. and barely had anything to drink since I got out of my car, I went directly to the Italian restaurant in Herndon that has become my traditional pre-MCM dinner. Quite good, and definitely had me feeling human again. Glad to have gotten some food and a decent bit of water in my system. (More water upon getting home.)

I've been back home for a while, and everything is ready for tomorrow. (And hopefully my "insurance" for getting to my parking garage works. More on that with my race day post.) 

Let's get 'er done!

HOT!

Oy vey! The forecast for Marine Corps Marathon & 50k on Sunday is HOT! While we will start the race at approximately 60F, by 11am (<4 hrs into the 50k), it will be 72F. And the forecast high for the day (likely hitting by 1pm) is about 78F. This is going to be a brutal day. I'm glad that I've shifted down to the 5:30 pace group. Even though the pace, itself, is certainly on the difficultly slow side for me, going the slower pace will make things MUCH more manageable. Yes, I'll be drinking plenty of water. And I'll be dousing myself with at least 1 cup of water at every water stop. Most likely 2 cups. Definitely the best way to keep core temp as low as possible. Hopefully there will even be a makeshift ice stop somewhere on the course where I can put some ice cubes into my cap.

Anyone who is running either race and trained for a specific time, if you can, shift your goal back by at least 10-20 minutes for the marathon. For those running with a 50k pace group, we only have groups at 30-minute intervals. Be willing to do that from the get-go. You can always speed up later in the race when you recognize you have an extra gear or two. Going out too strong and then once the heat hits is a recipe for ropping your later paces MUCH more and finishing even worse than starting out and staying "slow" for the whole time.

Hoping to not have many people getting heat stroke, hypernatremia, or excessive dehydration on the course. I saw lots of people in Sydney on the ground being tended to by the medical staff, since the temps were comparable to what we'll be having on Sunday. It's always disconcerting and worrying. Take care of yourself. If you don't feel good, put the ego aside and get assistance. You may be able to get back on the course. But even if it winds up resulting in a DNF, much better that than ending up in the hospital (or worse).

Looking forward to having an excited group to carry through all 50k. And hoping them stay with me and I get to cheer them up the Iwo to the finish in front of me, rather than have them fall behind.

Pacing AC

So, in the last post, I critiqued the marathon, but didn't actually talk too much about the experience I had while pacing. It really is a whole different experience running a race 1) by yourself, 2) with one or more friends, or 3) as a pacer responsible for getting the group across the finish line by a certain time.  Most of the time, my experiences are in the first category. And if you want to read some of my experiences in the second category, go back to this year's Dopey experience -- especially for the marathon on Disney Marathon weekend in January.

I started out the weekend at the Marathon Pacing table at the expo, for the last few hours it was open on Saturday. As people came up asking all manner of questions (What pace should I run? Will the pacer do run-walk? What are these strips (the pace bands) for and how do they work? Do I need to sign up? How should we find you in the corral?), several of the pacers and I would answer them, give appropriate guidance and advice for certain aspects of the race yet to be run, and provide as much encouragement as we could. It's always nice when you get a decent number of people that have identified their goal time as being the group that you are leading.

On race morning, the pacers (almost all of whom were staying at the Showboat Resort, about 1 mile up the  boardwalk from the start line at Bally's) met up in the Showboat lobby for a pre-race photo before making our way down to the start line to have an official pre-race photo taken.

The weather was positively gorgeous, albeit a touch chilly when the wind decided to gust a bit. That would surely end quickly enough after we set out. After doing our last prep work (restroom, gear check, etc.), we all lined up in the starting chute in increasing order of finish time. At that point, the race opened up the back of the pen and the 2,200 runners filed in among us. It was far too crowded to be able to take a group photo of my pace group before the race. Or, frankly, even the ability to realistically chat with any of them. (Hopefully they asked and we answered most of their questions the day before at the expo.) Soon enough, we were off!

Inside of the first mile, after the crowd thinned out enough where it was pretty clear that the people right around me were aiming for my 4:20 time, I called out and asked them to self-identify. I definitely had a good-sized group of more than a dozen. At least 4 of them had also self-identified as 1st time marathoners. It was interesting hearing how one of them had chosen to run this marathon, having started off the prior year doing a 5k and making the decision to lose weight (ultimately dropping 50 pounds), stop smoking, and stop drinking alcohol. He gradually increased his mileage to a half marathon and then decided to take the leap with his buddy on doing the marathon. He was certainly holding back in reserve a decision as to whether he'd run any more in the future until after finishing Atlantic City. I advised him to wait multiple days or longer after finishing before he makes the decision -- after all, he won't really be sore until two days afterwards.

Twisting around a few miles of Atlantic City streets, we eventually made our way to the Boardwalk, still having a pretty easy time of it all. Every now and again I would ask a question, or bring up an anecdote. Invariably, someone asks how many marathons I've run (AC was 67) and which was my favorite (I'll be able to settle down on NYC or London after one more chance for NYC in 2 weeks). Recounting my time in London leads to my talking about my abortive GWR attempt dressed as a chef, and then my successful attempt dressed as a super villain. 

We "dropped off" the half marathoners in the group past mile 11, where they did a U-turn on the boardwalk to get back to the finish line, while we continued onward to the end of the boardwalk before turning onto more city streets. Within a mile or so, I had come to the conclusion that I needed a quick pit stop. When I run considerably slower than my normal pace, too much water goes to my kidneys. So, I teed things up by asking who would be willing to take the sign and keep the pace for me. After all, it's the sign that people need to keep sight of, especially if they are not directly next to me or able to see me as opposed to the sign. It took a couple of times asking and looking around before that same 1st timer said that he was willing to give it a shot. I handed off the sign and darted into the portapotty as the group charged on. Mercifully, it was a brief break (maybe 20-30 seconds), and I quickly got back onto the course and sprinted at a much faster pace than we had been running, but well within my capability, so that I could minimize the time away from the group. They were rather surprised when I announced myself and reclaimed the sign. But my stand-in did marvelously, as I was able to confirm at the next mile marker that we were still exactly on pace.

As we got to some of the additional water views (was it still the ocean, or an inlet?), the wind picked up something fierce, often as a headwind. That certainly sapped some strength from all of us. While I "checked in" a couple of times to see how everyone was doing, conversation was more difficult for everyone, myself included, so it got a fair bit quieter save for the occasional cheer I would give to our group or to an oncoming leader or other pace group or fellow Marathon Maniac ("Go Maniac!"). This is definitely an area for pacing where I need to improve my game. While I can't expect much to be said by my remaining group, I can still try to engage them with some more meaningful encouragement. That will be easier on courses that I know really well (such as MCM 50k this coming Sunday).

We finally finished the extra stretch of city streets, painfully made our way up the ramp from street level onto the boardwalk (that 6 feet elevation gain across, what 20 feet) felt horrible, but was over as quickly as it began, and made our last turn for the home stretch -- that being about 3 miles.

Despite the difficulty of the city street headwinds that we encountered, I still had a good core group remaining with me. I actually didn't appreciate just how many there were until I saw this photo. I don't think I have ever had this many people remaining with me this late in the race.

Now, as one of the spectators aptly put it, it was all mental. My legs were tired and it would have been easy to drop pace to make that go away, but I had a job to do, and I was going to do my best to accomplish it. I called out some of my typical late-race mantras at the appropriate spots: "Only 5k to go!", "Just over 2 miles left!", "*NOW* you can legitimately say that!" (to the person at Mile 25 who yelled out "you're almost there"), and some variant of "Bring it!" when the finish line was tantalizingly close in the last .2 miles. (I think I actually said "If you've got another gear, use it!")

I looked at my watch, and I saw the "pin" pass. (The pin is this group's ideal finish time -- 30 seconds underneath the published goal time.) But I knew that I would be able to make it underneath the published goal time, now it was just a matter of how close to the pin would I get. In the end, I got 4:19:53. During the last mile or two, two of the people from my group slowly pulled away (to finish in 4:19:17 and 4:19:22). And the remaining people (whose bibs I could make out from the photos) finished anywhere from 4:23:12 to 4:46:52. My temporary pacing stand-in ultimately finished in 4:30:41 -- great job! And the one half marathoner who I could see in the photos actually finished in a great time of 2:08:38, which means they picked up a big head of steam after breaking off from us, since if they continued at our pace, they would have been closer to 2:09:45.

Unfortunately, given the logistics of getting back to the room for check-out, I couldn't stick around to try to see my other group members finish and give them one last cheer. (Just like I won't be able to do that at MCM, given how the finish area is structured. Hopefully I'll be able to shepherd everyone in in front of me.) But it was a really great day, and I look forward to pacing an increasing amount, as I adjust my personal goals so that there is only 1 "A" race per year that has a goal of a sufficiently good time to not only qualify me for Boston, but also enable me to be accepted in. The other races, I can be more leisurely on, pace (hopefully some of the Majors, even), and maybe even run with Achilles International (once I go through some of their vetting).

(Postscript: While I generally dislike MarathonFoto, I must acknowledge the fact that all of the photos in this post were from the official photos that MarathonFoto took. Atlantic City Marathon's registration actually included all of the photos for free, so I can't complain about the cost this time around. My biggest gripe is with how relatively few photos there were. While there were 49 photos in my profile, a LARGE percentage of them were exact or near-exact repeats. There were maybe a dozen truly unique photos in total. Still, they definitely break up a blog post nicely and do a good job of memorializing this event.)

Atlantic City Marathon

Helluva race today. Mostly gorgeous conditions (50s for most of the race, hitting the low 60s by the time I finished), save for some really nasty headwinds at a few key points that sapped a fair bit of energy from all of us. Glad I was able to keep on top of it late on to hit in the sweet zone to finish in 4:19:53. A few of my group pulled out near the end and finished faster (yes!), but despite having a fair bit of my group still intact at about Mile 23, most of them fell off pace. I'd love to know how they all fared, but I didn't have an opportunity to take a start line photo -- it was way too crowded, I'd never see any of the bibs.

There were several key factors for any marathon that really were quite disappointing today. Hoping it was just a fluke as opposed to how this is regularly run. (I've only run it once before, in 2018, and didn't have THAT many under my belt at that point, so wouldn't have necessarily noticed some of these things then.)

Water Stations

--These were sparsely attended by volunteers (though they were quite energetic and eager to help) and VERY short. I don't expect them to be a city block long for each of Gatorade and water like in Chicago, but still more than two 6-foot tables (if they even had tables -- several didn't).

--There was no predictable order to whether Gatorade or water would be first. And they were often mixed back and forth within one station. Sure, they were shouting what they had, but it's really confusing when it's intermixed and unpredictable. Glad I always carry my own and merely slow down a little for my group to grab and go. And mercifully, it wasn't hot enough that anyone was likely tempted to douse themselves.

--All of the cups were the same green Gatorade cups, even if there was water in them. They really should have two different color cups, and be consistent among all of the stations as to which will have Gatorade and which water. That makes it much easier to identify, even if the above two points remain an issue.

Course marking

--The cones on the street were horrible, IMO. It was immensely unclear at most points (at least on the back part of the course) where we were supposed to run. This certainly led to some amount of the mileage overage that I had. (Hopefully not too much; no way to really tell, though. But being .3 mi over (if my Garmin is to be believed) makes it that much more difficult to hit the goal time.)

--Placement of the Mile 18 marker was immensely confusing. Most of the mile markers where we would be passing the marker in both directions were on the left side of the road in the direction of travel. (Nice.) But Mile 18 was on the right side of the road, and confused me for a bit as to whether I had actually fallen off pace (despite my Garmin showing a consistent pace). Once it was clear that we had a fair bit to go in that direction of travel, I recognized that we were spot-on for our split at Mile 18, not late for a short out-and-back. Now that I think about it more, maybe we were just on the wrong side of the cones? Impossible to tell.

Police

--The cops along the course, especially on those parts where traffic was allowed to cross the path of the runners, were wonderful. They did a great job of making sure that the cars waited until there were long gaps between runners.

Expo

--As mentioned in my prior blog entry, for a race with the size field that AC has, it was a decent expo. (Hell, there was more available there than there was for Sydney -- which had 17k people running it,) The ballroom was a little on the small side, but not too bad, at least for the timeframe I was there on Saturday.

Photos

--I'm quite happy that AC still provides free race photos. I have long since stopped purchasing any from the MarathonFoto monopoly, given how overpriced and underwhelming they typically are, IMO. (You'd think they could scope out the course well enough to have some lined up with nice backdrops. Typically MF doesn't do that well, in my experience.)

Post-Race

--It would be very helpful if they had a longer post-finish stretch for the finishers to continue moving before getting their water, electrolyte drink, and medal. I need to keep on moving after the start, and too many people were stopping short way too quickly. I'm always "that guy" who screams something "don't stop! Coming through!" because if I stop, I'm dropping to the ground. And today, I didn't hydrate well enough in the back half of the course (my fault), so even though I drank as much water as I usually do, at lot of it was delyed, so not fully in my system. I was definitely dehydrated at the finish, and coming to a quick stop, I got quite lightheaded. I had to keep on moving and drinking. It took about 10 minutes before that passed. (Longer than typical, but I really think it was the dehydration.)

--Nice little area that they have the after party. Definitely love having a great bagel (though I had a hard time eating it -- that's a "me" problem) after. It would be ideal if they could have a high-protein drink (Core Power, Muscle Milk, or even simply chocolate milk) as part of the provided food. Certainly easier said than done, I imagine, based on sponsorships.