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? ;-)