4.25.2011

A Rotter-damn PR on fumes

Rotterdam was a success by the measure of an evenly split race and a PR.

I'm absolutely excited about how it turned out. It wasn't quite what I gunned for, but it could've been much worse. Unfortunately, I ran it on fumes.

I've come to the conclusion that international marathons aren't easy. I had to adjust for a 7 hour time difference in just 36 hours before racing. That's just ridiculous . This was my 4th international marathon, and you would think I would've already learned and been better prepared. Nope. Instead, I went to the starting line with absolutely no sleep on Thursday night, 12 hours of over-sleep on Friday night, and a whopping 3 hours of sleep on Satruday night! I went to the starting line feeling groggy and drained.

As far as the race itself goes, Rotterdam was great. I highly recommend it! Logistically, it was very easy to deal with. Fewer than 10,000 runners. Managing the starting line/finish line was very easy. Water/Euro sports drink every 5K. Course markers every 1K, Clocks every 5K. Gun was at 11am sharp.

The figure-eight course was pretty ideal. Any headwinds eventually became tailwinds, and vice-versa. There were some "hills" from over-passes, and one large bridge that we went over a couple times, but otherwise it was extremely flat (very similar to Chicago or Berlin). It's no wonder this thing is consistently a fast course! My only complaint was a lack of shade... The sun definitely wore out its welcome. I guess that's not too different than most other marathons though.


My original race goal was to go through the half at 1:19:30, and come back as sub-1:19 as possible. That would've had me going out at 3:45-46 K's, and coming back at 3:44-45 K's. With the sleep and mid-day heat working against me, I knew that might be tough. 2:39 was my hard limit. Anything over that, and the race would be a disappointment.

I left the hotel 20 minutes before the start, jogged 1 block to warm up, then went to the corral. (It was really simple). Corral was packed, but a little negotiable. My seed had me in a mix of runners, and I was forced to start behind probably 300+ people. I should've been in the front of my corral, I didn't leave myself enough time to get closer to the line.

We sat for a few minutes. The waiting game was pretty standard for me. Everyone all jittery. Couldn't understand a word that anyone was saying. Weather was warm up... 60 degrees, and climbing with the sun. A light, steady wind. Helicopters swirled above.

A cannon blasted right at 11am.

The first 5K was all about jockeying for position and shedding some of those slower runners. I hashed out about 150 people within 1K, and crossing our first bridge. Annoying, but oh well. I took another 50 runners through the 15K, and then it was no-man's land. Maybe another 25 people in the remaining 25K? The only person to pass me after the first 5K, was a runner that I was working with and eventually yo-yo'd later into the race.

I went through the 5K all on my own, at 18:48 (3:45.6 avg, 6:03/mi). Pretty much right on target. Everything felt good, so I just clung to it. I gradually picked up a handful of other runners and we went jumping from pack to pack. I sat in the middle of this small group for as long as I could.

Splits went like clockwork through the half. 10K was 37:31, or 18:43 for the next 5K split (3:44.6 avg, 6:01/mi). ...One of the front runners dropped our pack and we eased up for a couple K. I felt good but wasn't going to join that runner. I didn't want to ease up much more though either, so I took the lead. I occasionally put in a few surges to catch guys ahead and shield myself from some on/off head winds. At this point, other runners refused to take the lead but gladly came along for the ride.

We passed Sarah. She handed off a Gatorade. I pressed on.

By 15K, the meat was gone and fat was shed. It was down to myself and a German guy. We went through 15K at a 18:45 5K split (3:45.0 avg, 6:02/mi). Most of the time, the German rode off my shoulder, but occasionally he'd give me the pleasure of taking the lead. We talked a little. He mentioned he had run the course a few times before. We strolled by a couple runners here and there. I noticed it was getting pretty hot and sunny. 20K still went like nothing though, exactly 1hr 15min deep, the 5K split at 18:44 (3:44.8 avg, 6:02/mi).

Started to hit a little wind, then the Half Split at 1:19:20 (3:45.6 avg, or 6:03/mi). Pretty much right on target!

It got pretty annoying as we went though the half though... My fellow German refused to help with what became some solid headwind for the next 5K. That stretch was pretty brutal and we had no one else to work with. Probably the worst and most barren spot on the course... and when the going got tough, my German went into hiding. He finally stepped up and gave me some relief for maybe 1K, but he slowed our pace. I took over after I saw a 3:50 split. It wasn't easy, and I clung two more 3:50 splits. We went from running 6-6:01 splits to 6:10's because of that split. 25K at 18:59 (3:47.8 avg, 6:06/mi). Given the temps, sun, wind... that stretch was expensive. ...and now a bridge.

Just after the 25K... we crossed the Erasmusbrug Bridge for the second and final time. Some more wind on the bridge, and then it finally let up. I carried us up, and then my German dropped me like a bad habit on the down side of the bridge. I couldn't believe it! After all that work and running together. After I basically carried his ass for at least 15K.... he threw in a major surge and gapped me by at least 10-15 seconds.

At that point, we didn't have any more head wind and I still felt somewhat comfortable, so I wasn't too worried... I know he knew the course, but seriously, "You're welcome!"...

I spent the next 5K trying not to lose him. A few times I started to catch back up, but then gave it back. I couldn't help but give up some ground. He definitely kicked into a different gear. We each passed a few stragglers, otherwise there was no one around. Keeping him in my sights was my only hope. 30K at 18:52 (3:46.4 avg, 6:04/mi).

I just passed Sarah, and she threw me another Gatorade. I was starting to feel the dehydration. It was easily in the high 60's, before considering the blazing sun. I wasn't sweating anymore.

I thought more about that last 5K. It was only a few seconds, but I lost some of my early groove. That was now 2, 5K splits that were slower than my earlier splits. I initially struggled with that. I wasn't sure if my time had come and the combination of no-sleep plus heat was taking its toll. Or if I could come back...? German was easily >20 seconds ahead of me and now with a small handful of guys. There was no one else within sight.

My little pity party didn't last long. I was 30K deep and I knew I "only" had 12K to go. For some reason that number didn't seem too bad...? I knew I had to step it up, or my race was over. I immediately surged to wake myself up.

I dropped a 3:39 1K. My fastest one so far. I counted my steps, I pumped my arms, I repeated and chanted random lines in my head... I did whatever it took to forget about the effort.

A couple more mid-3:40's, and a surge with another 3:39...

35K at a 18:40 split (3:44.0 avg, or 6:00/mi). Another K and I caught the pack. German had already started to pull away. I was clearly going faster than these runners. I dropped them, and I gradually reeled in German. He was strong. He said, "Welcome back!" I held on for another 2K in the mid-3:40's. I must have been the wind in his sails though because he took off again. There was no catching him this time.

I just passed Sarah for the 3rd time on the course. She was amongst a thin crowd that was slowly getting bigger. I couldn't wait for this to be over with.

39K and I held a 3:48 pace (6:07/mi). A little slower but not bad, I thought. I had more or less fallen off of German as opposed to him dropping me. That sun was fucking hot! A couple runners that were between us and now became my targets.

My feet had started to get heavier. Legs were sore. I tried to shake them out. I felt the crusted salt on me. German was slipping away. 40th K, a 3:55. UGH!! Hang in there. I hit that 40K with an 18:59 (3:47.8 avg, 6:07/mi).

3:55 hurt, and it came out of nowhere.... but what really hurt was the 41st, 3:59. Out of nowhere, I had slipped to a 6:18-6:25 pace. It was like I completely fell asleep. London all over again, when I hosed myself in the last couple miles.

I remember thinking, "What the fuck!?!" I was dehydrated and dead, but not that dead!! I was pissed and the fuse was lit. "I got's to go!"

My watch said 2:34:28. 1200 meters to go. I couldn't think of the exact math, but I knew I was inside of 5 minutes from the finish. I knew I was going to PR unless I royally fucked up. Maybe 1200 meters is closer to 4:30?? That's still sub 2:39. I wanted that sub-2:39.

I went all in right then and there.

Didn't think a moment more about the race or my pace; I just went. I passed a guy. He tried to match me. He had nothing. The crowds were huge by now and lined both sides of the street. Saw another guy. I don't even know what happened to him, I went by so fast. I dropped the hammer and kept going. Don't think, just run. Only a couple minutes now... Anyone can run hard for 2 minutes.

I pumped my arms as much as I could. I chanted a quote in my mind... The night before, I saw a Winston Churchill line written on a wall: "If you're going through hell, keep going." Awfully fitting. KEEP GOING!

The crowds were screaming like mad for me.... it had to be for me, because there wasn't anyone else around... I was coming up to the final turn on the Coolsingel. That's their famous final straight. I rounded the turn. Crowds swelled. 300 meters to go. I kicked even harder.

3:36 on my 42nd K (a 5:48/mi pace).

Balls to the wall now. Every ounce of energy to go here. As hard as I could... which as I look back, was pretty damn hard. I can't believe how much kick I had!! Where was this strength in the 39th and 40th K's?? Where did it come from??

Never mind, just go!

I saw German up ahead, but I was running out of course. Give us another quarter, and I might have beaten him. From here it was just a race against the clock.

I could see it was now ticking 2:38:50's.... I had cushion versus my chip time, but how much?!? Get there. 2:39:00 now... Fuck! Get it!! I stepped over the line seconds later. I shut my eyes and slapped my wrist to get the split.

It took me a couple seconds to collect myself. I looked down...

2:38:46.

I closed that 1200M with my fastest effort during the race... My final 200m kick was a 5:37/mi effort.

I was incredibly pleased with the way that ended, incredibly surprised given how tired I was, but equally frustrated with my 39th and 40th K's. It was a near perfect race. Had I not slipped for those couple K, I'd be singing a much brighter tune here.

But alas, it's a damn PR and a damn good one. I split the second half of the race 6 seconds slower than the first half.

Results show me finishing in 90th place, but I believe that's on clock time. Chip time, I believe I was 88. Splitting hairs, I know.

K recap:
1- 0:03:47
2- 0:03:46
3- 0:03:47
4- 0:03:47
5- 0:03:41 (5K: 18:48)
6- 0:03:45
7- 0:03:44
8- 0:03:41
9- 0:03:49
10- 0:03:45 (5K: 18:43)
11- 0:03:46
12- 0:03:45
13- 0:03:47
14- 0:03:45
15- 0:03:44 (5K: 18:45)
16- 0:03:45
17- 0:03:46
18- 0:03:43
19- 0:03:45
20- 0:03:45 (5K: 18:44)
21 - 0:03:50
1st HALF- 1:19:20 = 3:45.7 / 6:03.1 avg

22- 0:03:50
23- 0:03:50
24- 0:03:47
25- 0:03:42 (5K: 18:59)
26- 0:03:50
27- 0:03:39
28- 0:03:51
29- 0:03:44
30- 0:03:48 (5K: 18:52)
31- 0:03:39
30- 0:03:45
33- 0:03:49
34- 0:03:39
35- 0:03:47 (5K: 18:40)
36- 0:03:44
37- 0:03:47
38- 0:03:44
39- 0:03:48
40- 0:03:55 (5K: 18:59)
41- 0:03:59
42- 0:03:37
195m- 0:00:41
2nd HALF- 1:19:26 = 3:45.9 / 6:03.5 avg splits
OVERALL- 2:38:46 = 3:45:8 / 6:03.3 avg splits

Last 1195m were hammered at 5:46 pace.

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