Oak Hill Flyer

the crickets of the lehigh valley have resided their for decades, if not centuries.  on a humid summer morning their chirps are as constant and as unending as the river along which they reside.  the river itself rolls with silent strength, overfilled by waters from tropical storm lee and rich with vegetation.  amongst these crickets and along this river lay my first real marathon attempt in five years.

[...]

pennsylvania!  it took only a minute to recognize the smell of spruce and other shrubberies as we exited the airport.  however, i wouldn't need the local flora to remind me i was home; my parents would be in attendance.  they were there not only to see me, but also to see my sister who would be attempting her first ever marathon.  it would be my sister's husband who would drive my the two of us to the starting line at the regional health care center while my parents drove my wife to the half marathon start 13 miles away.

"why are we running AWAY from the hospital?" my sister quips. "shouldn't we be running TOWARDS the hospital?"

i think to myself: "she's ready."

10 minutes before the gun, i remove my singlet and put it in my drop bag.  i'm no stranger to running without a top, but this would be my first marathon doing so.  it was a sign of conditions, no doubt: gun temp was 62F with 100% humidity and clouds.

with my birthday last month i moved to a new age class; 3:15:00 (7:27/mi) was on my mind.  the fact that boston registration opened the day after the race was no coincidence.  seconds before the gun i stood grateful for simply being there; the significance of my 2007-2009 injuries were not lost at that moment.  also not lost on me was the fact that i hadn't raced a marathon in a half-decade.  standing at the start, i felt as if i wasn't the only yavorsky running their first marathon that day.

the first six miles were hillier, yet easier than expected as we exited allentown--behold the power of the pack.  a dramatic net decent allowed me to reach target pace within the first 20 minutes in a very relaxed fashion.  a flag at half-mast ensured this participant didn't take this morning for granted.  by the end of mile seven, i saw my parents for the first time and entered the lehigh river towpath.

7:30 - 7:29 - 7:25 - 7:25 - 7:25 - 7:25 - 7:22 (mile 7)

towpath /TOE-path/ 1. (n) a trail running alongside a river that enables horses or humans to pull heavy objects that are afloat in the river downstream. 2. (n) the surface upon which nearly 50% of the lehigh valley marathon is run.

emails from the race director prior to the race warned of course re-routing and muddy conditions due to hurricane irene and lee.  actually being on the towpath ended the drama; i wouldn't need my half-inch spikes.  the ground was moist but well-packed, puddles were few, and the tone of the run turned quiet and focused.  i let my face muscles relax and let the next five miles melt into one another.  pace was a mild challenge on the cinder, but it was nothing that a little awareness couldn't fix.

i estimate there were only 200-300 spectators when we arrived at the halfway point in bethlehem, but their net effect was much larger.  40 minutes of listening to a silent river left one's ears very dialated and added to the contrast of returning to town.  a business clock marked the temperature at 65F.  i saw my parents again.  i felt more relaxed at mile 14 than i have at the same point of any training run this past year.  prior to the start i told myself to reassess my goals halfway; faced with the play-or-pass question, my answer was calmly, unquestionably: "play."  back to the towpath; the race is on.

7:24 - 7:23 - 7:25 - 7:25 - 7:20 - 7:26 - 7:23 (mile 14)

but it didn't feel like a race.  it felt like silk.  the standells started to echo in my mind; i firmly told them to remain silent as i focused on the current mile.  crickets.  silent river.  the occassional churn of a nearby freight train.  the weather remained constant.  slowly, cautiously i passed one runner after another.  more crickets.  clearly some were entering deeper pains of the run.  as far as i could see and feel, i simply was not.  with the exception a mile with a false-flat rise, every minute of this next hour-long stretch of towpath were simply, deliciously indistinguishable from one another.  i envisioned a feeling of proximity and wonder upon exiting this towpath, akin to driving north through fort pitt into pittsburgh.  sure enough, the trail ended with a left hand turn through a small tunnel.

7:25 - 7:23 - 7:21 - 7:26 - 7:25 - 7:26 - 7:26 (mile 21)

the city of bridges was nowhere to be found; instead, there was a quick switchback to a steep 50-yard climb.  climb, maintain, recover: the summit's reward was a half-mile of gentle descent.  despite the favorable grade, holding pace became tougher.  my body went anabolic from the ascent.  for the first time that morning, my legs felt heavy.  with less than five miles to go, i asked them for the most important five miles they could ever run.

after a flat stretch and water stop the course threw its second hill: a 20-yard climbing wall through some trees.  "up, UP!" i yelled.  more anabolic burn.  upon cresting, i felt like falling forward down the back of the hill.  my legs were concrete and had no form.  i went through a relay exchange with cheerleaders; the memory is blurry.  in less than a mile, my state changed from confident to desparate.  with little recollection of the 400m in between, i found myself on a bridge, screaming to get my legs to move.  with each stride, my toes would drag against the pavement.  i mustered every ounce of motivation i could think of: a boston qualifying time, my sister's first marathon, my parents driving halfway across the state.  nothing.  the memories of 9/11, my friends in austin, my 20th year of running.  nothing.  being back in pensylvania, the knee injuries, turning 35, seeing my wife at the finish line.  i yelled at no one in an attempt to find adrenaline.  nothing.  silk to cement in under three miles.  running simply stopped being an option.

7:37 - 7:44 - 14:59 - 26:31 - 24:42 (mile 26)

as i sleep that night, the crickets remained constant and the river remained silent.  and for nearly 24 miles, their presence was my grace.

[...]

i walked it in and finished amongst spectators and my family.  k had a terrific negative split half-marathon.  within 15 minutes i would see my sister finishing her first marathon (in a dead sprint, no less!).  we celebrated the day with cake, photographs and dinner.  the straubs and yeungling was mighty tasty.  i'm injury free and am looking forward to cooler temperatures this winter.

i would be lying if i said if the busted finish wasn't tough to swallow.  however, i would also be lying if i said i didn't cherish my best 23-mile run in five years and very much look forward to the season ahead.  i am so very happy to be back racing marathons; viva lehigh.

Posted by OHF on 13 September 2011 at 00:40 | Permalink