oak hill flyer: white rock (part 1 of 2)
professional golfer bobby locke often said "drive for show; putt for dough." in other words, it doesn't matter how fast you move down the fairway if you wind up taking three strokes on the green.
recovering quickly from lehigh valley, my training for dallas was as flawless as three months of running could be. however in our hotel saturday night, you would have thought i was training for the darwin awards: i near sliced the tip of my thumb off cutting a tomato, only to crack my knee against the corner of a coffee table sixty minutes later. the hotel window confirmed the night's forecast: torrential downpours and plummeting temperatures. i sat with thumb gauzed and knee under ice as i wondered what to make of this final evening.
if anything, that night was still better than allentown. the next seven hours of sleep were lights out perfect.
[...]
by virtue of quick thinking and a little luck, k and i avoided morning traffic and found a terrific parking spot near the start. kissing k goodbye, i made it to the start line in tact, on time and bone dry (a small miracle given the amount of puddling at fair park). with rain subsiding, there was no reason to adjust the game plan (7:15/mile).
gun.
nine out of ten "bad marathon" stories i hear are due to folks going out too quickly. i sat back and stuck to my initial conservative schedule. right on cue, the rain moved in the moment i tossed my warm-up jacket.
7:38 - 7:18 - 7:05 - 7:08 - 7:06
the rain turned ugly. water pooled on the streets quickly. it didn't scare away volunteers or spectators though; both were out in surprisingly awesome amounts, umbrellas and all. the sounds of news helicopters, police sirens and chatty pace group leaders echoed through downtown. i conservatively make my way through some early climbs. i see fisher in highland park; he runs with me briefly and says that i'm on time. weather be damned: this must be a marathon.
7:20 - 7:13 - 7:24
starting around mile nine, i planned to put some time in the bank by holding 7:11s for eleven miles. i did not expect to be running the steeplechase while doing so. all the rain created a terrific amount of runoff at every intersection, perpendicular to the race course. a healthy six-foot leap was required at every suburban stop sign, lest you step ankle deep in water. this exercise would last perhaps three to four miles, although it seemed like forever.
as we descended to white rock lake, i ran with someone from baltimore who was more chatty than i cared to be at the moment. on any other day i would have welcomed the company, but all i wanted to do after seven miles of schilitterbahn was to dry out and listen to myself breathe. at least the rain was subsiding.
i was not expecting to climb up to lake level for 200m after the two-mile descent. at least my efforts were rewarded with a view of a lake that encompassed the whole horizon, much like THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. knowing that the course circumnavigated this body of water, the view did my morale no favors.
"run courageously," my friend fisher once told me. surely columbus was courageous when presented with a similar view of the horizon. then again, he had a boat.
7:13 - 7:10 - 7:08 - 7:12
everyone talks about the winds at the lake; the thought of fighting winds was another blow to the morale. but to actually be there and experience no wind was the first positive thought in over an hour. there was no rain; another positive. with all the clouds, there was also no sun. the temperature was around 45F. to boot, i was two hours (no... less than two hours) away from boston AND i just so happened to be trained for the remaining distance. in my mind i was fatigued, but on paper this was running heaven. i imagined the park covered with stenciled graffiti: the phrase "FEAR FEAR" alongside JFK's profile. forget your mind; look at what's on paper.
i just kept running. i tried to think of fisher at mile 21, but that seemed so far away. the halfway point was marked with an arc of balloons; i was on schedule. like allentown, i asked myself: "think you can do this again?" unlike allentown, my answer was anything but a resounding yes.
of course i exploded at mile 23 in allentown, so i knew my own judgement could not be trusted. another positive, for lack of a better description.
mile 13: 7:12. 7:14 average through 13.1.
recovering quickly from lehigh valley, my training for dallas was as flawless as three months of running could be. however in our hotel saturday night, you would have thought i was training for the darwin awards: i near sliced the tip of my thumb off cutting a tomato, only to crack my knee against the corner of a coffee table sixty minutes later. the hotel window confirmed the night's forecast: torrential downpours and plummeting temperatures. i sat with thumb gauzed and knee under ice as i wondered what to make of this final evening.
if anything, that night was still better than allentown. the next seven hours of sleep were lights out perfect.
[...]
by virtue of quick thinking and a little luck, k and i avoided morning traffic and found a terrific parking spot near the start. kissing k goodbye, i made it to the start line in tact, on time and bone dry (a small miracle given the amount of puddling at fair park). with rain subsiding, there was no reason to adjust the game plan (7:15/mile).
gun.
nine out of ten "bad marathon" stories i hear are due to folks going out too quickly. i sat back and stuck to my initial conservative schedule. right on cue, the rain moved in the moment i tossed my warm-up jacket.
7:38 - 7:18 - 7:05 - 7:08 - 7:06
the rain turned ugly. water pooled on the streets quickly. it didn't scare away volunteers or spectators though; both were out in surprisingly awesome amounts, umbrellas and all. the sounds of news helicopters, police sirens and chatty pace group leaders echoed through downtown. i conservatively make my way through some early climbs. i see fisher in highland park; he runs with me briefly and says that i'm on time. weather be damned: this must be a marathon.
7:20 - 7:13 - 7:24
starting around mile nine, i planned to put some time in the bank by holding 7:11s for eleven miles. i did not expect to be running the steeplechase while doing so. all the rain created a terrific amount of runoff at every intersection, perpendicular to the race course. a healthy six-foot leap was required at every suburban stop sign, lest you step ankle deep in water. this exercise would last perhaps three to four miles, although it seemed like forever.
as we descended to white rock lake, i ran with someone from baltimore who was more chatty than i cared to be at the moment. on any other day i would have welcomed the company, but all i wanted to do after seven miles of schilitterbahn was to dry out and listen to myself breathe. at least the rain was subsiding.
i was not expecting to climb up to lake level for 200m after the two-mile descent. at least my efforts were rewarded with a view of a lake that encompassed the whole horizon, much like THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. knowing that the course circumnavigated this body of water, the view did my morale no favors.
"run courageously," my friend fisher once told me. surely columbus was courageous when presented with a similar view of the horizon. then again, he had a boat.
7:13 - 7:10 - 7:08 - 7:12
everyone talks about the winds at the lake; the thought of fighting winds was another blow to the morale. but to actually be there and experience no wind was the first positive thought in over an hour. there was no rain; another positive. with all the clouds, there was also no sun. the temperature was around 45F. to boot, i was two hours (no... less than two hours) away from boston AND i just so happened to be trained for the remaining distance. in my mind i was fatigued, but on paper this was running heaven. i imagined the park covered with stenciled graffiti: the phrase "FEAR FEAR" alongside JFK's profile. forget your mind; look at what's on paper.
i just kept running. i tried to think of fisher at mile 21, but that seemed so far away. the halfway point was marked with an arc of balloons; i was on schedule. like allentown, i asked myself: "think you can do this again?" unlike allentown, my answer was anything but a resounding yes.
of course i exploded at mile 23 in allentown, so i knew my own judgement could not be trusted. another positive, for lack of a better description.
mile 13: 7:12. 7:14 average through 13.1.
JFK? I really meant FDR. Either I don't know my US history, or I was in the midst of running a marathon (or both).
Posted by
OHF |
9:09 AM
I would alter your quote to "9 out of 10 marathons start out really fun".
Posted by
Aaron |
12:43 PM
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