It's nice when I get to pace a race that is relatively local to me. Enough so, at least, that I can drive up one day, stay overnight, and drive back after the race is done. While the expo (and the race start/finish line) is at Bally's, the majority of the pacers were staying at the Showboat hotel.
I'm not overly partial to casinos, and while the rooms that we had look like they were updated recently, much of the downstairs attractions (as evidenced by this wallpaper on the entryway coming in from the parking garage) is a bit outdated, IMO. C'est la vie. It's not like I'm actually spending any appreciable time in the hotel -- I never do. It's always just a crashpad, to me.
The expo was about a mile away. And, boy howdy, despite lots of establishments being open for business, one that was closed certainly evinced the clouds of smoke that I couldn't avoid on the walk:
Because of some late injuries and/or illnesses, there was a bit of juggling around of the pacing assignments. Part of that had me moved back to 3:50, and that pacer bumped to 4:10. Seemed odd, since just the day before, a local Atlantic City media outlet published an article on the marathon with a focus on the pace group, and the (former) 3:50 pacer was featured in it. Given my upcoming pacing gig at Marine Corps Marathon, I asked him if he wanted to swap, so he could be back on his assigned 3:50, and I would take 4:10. He gladly accepted.
The morning of the race itself was beautiful. Cool temps around 50F with minimal wind. Unfortunately, there were also no clouds in the sky -- so there was no escaping the direct sunlight and slowly starting to bake as the temps gradually rose. Still, for Atlantic City, you couldn't really ask for better conditions than what we had.
After gathering at the hotel lobby, we made the mile walk down the boardwalk to the starting area to take the obligatory pace group photo.
We made our way into the starting chute behind us and lined up in order, waiting for the organizers to open up the back gate to allow the runners to file in and find their starting places. Over the course of the next ~25 minutes, people congregated and we chatted them up about some of what we planned on doing for the race. For me, pretty straightforward re: slowish start while it's still crowded, and slow on the uphill highway ramp we go up on Mile 3, faster on the back side -- everything else is pretty much flat and even pace. Both marathoner and half-marathoners would be together through about Mile 11.5, at which point the half-marathoners would make a U-turn, split off, and continue back to the finish line.
8am arrived and we were off! While I wouldn't use the phrase "I was flying" to describe my pace, unfortunately I went flying less than 100 meters after the start line. (!) Whether I tripped on a slightly raised screw, nail, or plank of the boardwalk, down I went. Hard! Mercifully, everyone who was behind me skillfully dodged around me, rather than trampling me, and after a couple of seconds, I collected my dropped water bottle, made sure I had my pace sign, shook out my stinging right hand (multiple times), and set back out. What a way to start out a race and inspire confidence in the group of runners who were looking to me to get them across the finish line both in one piece and on time!
This time around, I didn't have a very talkative bunch of people. Two or three who were closest were gladly chatting it up, but whenever I tried engaging people who were slightly further behind me, I didn't get many responses. I wound up telling them about the only other time I fell in a race (not pacing), talked about a few of my other marathons run (London, NYC, Disney), and asked them about their running goals. I had at least a couple who were running the half, and several who were running the full. But I'm not sure I even had a total of 10 with me at the group's largest. (Alas, there aren't many photos that captured the group.)
We were spot on pace by the time those running the half had to split off. Actually, we were about 30 second ahead of pace, I think - which is where I wanted to be at the very end of the full. I encouraged those breaking off to keep their current pace or even pick up steam to blast through their planned goal of 2:05. At least one person who peeled off did just that, finishing in 2:03. Great job!
But, as is often the case, despite keeping pretty accurate pacing (always seeing quickly if I'm running a bit too fast and dialing it back), slowly but surely, my group faded off. By the time we were off of the Boardwalk, I think I lost almost everyone from the initial group. However, soon thereafter, I picked up at least 1 or 2 new people who would stay with me most of the rest of the way.
The young guy running beside me here (by this point, we were on the final stretch of the marathon, returning on the boardwalk) is a recent graduate of the police academy and he knew several of the officers on the course who were keeping everyone safe and controlling traffic. Amazingly enough, he is not too long post-surgery from a nasty fall during the running part of his fitness exam -- the details were a bit gruesome to envision, and despite it, he gritted it out and passed that exam. Bad@$$!
Though he had started to pull away from me around Mile 22, our positions switched when he slowed down at a water stop and I didn't. Slightly dispirited by the fact that he was no longer in front of me (which was his goal), he stuck with me through about Mile 25, at which point he found his next gear and took off, finishing in just over 4:07:00! Fantastic! When pacers come across the finish line without anyone in their group, this is the preferred reason -- because we got them far enough to the point they could kick it up a notch and maintain for an even faster time.
Goal time for a pacer is alway 30 seconds under the time on the sign, with a 30 second buffer on either side. Given the ignominious start and the increased heat in the latter part of the race, I'm quite please at having been in the sweet spot, with a final time of 4:09:10.
After getting some water and Powerade, and collecting my checked gear check bag (with flip-flops and change of socks and sneakers in it), I did what I have only done once before -- gotten medical attention... for the injuries I had sustained at the very beginning. Thankfully, there wasn't all that much that had gotten into the wounds, which were mostly slightly scraped up bruises. There really wasn't any broken skin or bleeding, but the peroxide used to clean off the wounds still stung like the dickens. While the bandages they had really weren't all that great (latex adhesive that didn't do a great job of sticking), it was enough to get the job done that I needed for the time being. I would wind up replacing them after I got a shower -- many hours later, unfortunately.
I was disappointed that the kitchen for The Yard wasn't open (as it had been last year), but happy that I was able to get my post-race burger not too far away at Johnny Rockets.
After a quick pit stop, I made my way back to my car (having brought all of my stuff there before the pacer meet-up, since I knew I wouldn't make it back in time for even a delayed check-out), changed out of my racing socks and sneakers for a comfy pair of knit wool socks and dry sneakers for my drive back.
[Warning: Mild TMI below. Nothing more related to the race itself, but wrapping up my experience on the day nonetheless.]
While it took only 3.5 hours to drive up, it took quite a lot longer to get back home. And it wasn't just because of the additional traffic on 95S in Maryland. About an hour after lunch, I started to have a hard enough time breathing because of a reflux type reaction that I held out long enough to pull into the rest stop in Delaware, parking and taking a half hour to recline and try to relieve the pressure. It seemed like it had worked reasonably well, at least enough that I'd be able to get home before having to do anything else. Nope! My body had other designs.
The pressure increased again, compounded with frequent hiccups (really painful in this instance, more so than they typically are), and I pulled off again at Maryland House. And getting there was atrociously slow because of the traffic -- the frustration certainly made everything feel all the worse. This time after parking (and while it was still daylight), I opened the sunroof a bit and cracked my windows, reclined a decent bit, and was there for about 90 minutes. I knew I was slightly dehydrated, and I felt like I was on the verge of a hypoglycemic reaction. I eventually remembered that I had an extra bottle of Powerade from the race inside the car, so downed that. It definitely helped with the near hypoglycemia, but did nothing to alleviate any remaining pressure, which had gone down somewhat.
I finally decided that I should get back on the road. It was after 7pm, and I still had another 90 minutes to go (which would be more like 2 hours given the traffic). I got past Baltimore and the pressure and hiccups returned. And right before I got to the split in the roadway that would take me to the Beltway, I felt horrible and knew that I absolutely had to get off to the shoulder immediately, lest I get into an accident. Thankfully, there was enough space for me to get over the one lane and then into the very wide shoulder, put the car in park, got the car door open and turned my head toward the road and... you guessed it... "returned" some of what I had ingested earlier in the day. I can only imagine what the people passing me were thinking had happened. I've never had this happen to such an extent before. I think I may need to rethink what I have as a post-race meal, now. While I still need to have as much protein as possible, I need to avoid the grease. Lesson very much learned.
As much as I was not happy about having to regurgitate a bit, I must admit that nearly immediately I felt SO much better. The pressure was gone, as were the hiccups. Once I was able to assure myself that everything was cleared out that needed to be, I fluidly got back into traffic and finished the remainder of the slow drive home. Finally.
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