MCM Race Report

Hello fellow DC Tri Club members! And welcome to my first race report.

I know RR's are a tradition, but my initial reaction when I joined the club was, "Race reports, how egotistical is that!" Yet, I find myself reading each and everyone of your reports to the point of exhaustion (even reading your old race reports on your personal blogs into the early hours of the morning, only to find myself having to be at Hains Point in less than two hours). And frankly, reading those reports has helped me become a better triathlete and competitor---I couldn't have done IMAZ without them (thanks Eric---your website http://conquer3.com/ proved most helpful). But what has compelled me more than anything was my need to share one of the best experiences of my life, yes---my life, and hopefully inspire some of you to join me in this journey next year. So now I embark on my own journey into race reporting which will hopefully begin a long relationship with my own personal blogging. Here we go....

MARINE CORPS MARATHON 2007

Previous Best: 3:09:14 Philadelphia Marathon 2003
Previous Worst: 4:54....Frederick Marathon 2003 (got hypothermia at mile 20 after being in 19th place after 18 miles)
Previous Best @ MCM: 3:29:17
Goal: Qualify for Boston again and/or break 3:00:00
Marathon race #: 9

Pre-Race:
The drama the accompanies great races isn't usually the race itself, but the drama that occurs prior to the race. The journey to get to the start line makes or breaks a storied run and my week leading up to the race was no different. A little less than two weeks away from the MCM I did my last hard run of about 17/18 miles with my brother on my side riding his bike. And let me tell you, had MCM been that day, I would have broken 3 hours easily. Fast forward three days later to Thursday and I can't run to save my life. I little run of only 7 miles proved to be an enormous task. Something was wrong. I was getting a cold. I pop every pill imaginable, attempt to get extra sleep and pray to every deity known to man and then some. In addition, I'm doing the show at the Kennedy Center---and wouldn't you know it, I have 12----yes 12---shows the week before the race. ARGGHHHHH!!!! It doesn't matter if the shows only a 70 minute whirlwind of a show or a 3 hour show---it's 12 times you have to get the adrenaline up, and 12 times you have to crash afterwards. So needless to say I'm worried. The dilemma comes down to this: Do I try to qualify for Boston or do I make an attempt at breaking 3 hours and possibly blow up? And if I BONK, do I bonk so bad that I miss qualifying for Boston altogether? Did I mention my parents are coming into town race weekend? Oh yeah, that's sure to be a stress reliever. (Truly though, it was great to see them--they got to see my show, my brother's show at the new Shakespeare Theatre, see the race and then have dinner Sunday night before flying out that evening---I figured if I'm doing a marathon, so will they.

Thursday:
Packet pick up time. I always recommend going the first day to avoid the crowds--and I was right. No added stress here.

Friday:
Shows go well, still tired, it's been raining all day, but luckily a friend comes into town to help out this weekend with whatever I need. (thank you Emily) I get my massage from my Brazilian gay masseuse Reinaldo around 1pm and I'm feeling great----Yet, as many of you know I'm also a photographer and I have a prior engagement to shoot the Helen Hayes Auction from 5pm to 11pm. That's right, standing on your feet for six hours shooting people who have too much money. It was a great event, but I kept looking at my watch counting the minutes until I'm in my bed---because they always say it's not the sleep the night before the race that's important--it's two nights before. OK, done. I'll be home by 11:30pm and be asleep by 11:40pm. Things always go according to plan, right? Remember it was raining all day and into the evening----unfortunately I didn't follow the weather channel close enough because it was raining in my basement as well. An inch of water had collected in not only the hallway, but my room as well. Apparently the drain, along with all the leaves blocking the hole, could not handle the large amount of rainfall in such a short period of time and proceeded to drain into my little cave dwelling. It's already midnight now as I mop and soak the floor---I have to be at Dulles at 7:40am to pick my parents up. Luckily my running gear isn't soaked, but with such an excess amount of water, I have to use every towel I can find and even enlist my dirty laundry in the war on TERROR!!! (translation: flood water). It's 2:30am before I fall asleep...7am comes very soon.

Saturday:
I step out bed directly into my sandals, pick up my wet shirt off the floor.....wait, why is my shirt wet? Wait, why is the floor wet? FUCK!!!!! The basement was flooded, AGAIN!!! Apparently after cleaning/clearing the drain, it rain hard throughout the night and Tada!!! More flooding. So I clean it up as fast as I can and head off to pick my parents up, late of course, and head to breakfast. The lack of sleep is not helping with my stress, but I can't do anything about that now. Fortunately, my folks will see the first of my 3 shows today and then head off to see my brother leaving me until I see them on the course in the morning. With 1:30pm, 4pm and 7:30pm shows I'm tired which means I'll be asleep quickly and home soon enough to lay out all my clothes for race. As my OCD kicks into high gear, I'm certain I'm ready to race---at what pace, I still don't know.

Sunday (race day):
Well, I've got sleep, I've eaten my breakfast (Trader Joe's Cinnamon Spice Oatmeal and a banana) and head to the metro. Living on Capitol Hill makes things pretty easy so my nerves are at a low frequency and the metro arrives promptly. So far so good. We get off at Pentagon City and I see Rachel Wadsworth, say hello, and notice people are getting ready near the Metrocard machines. SMART! Stay warm, dress here, stretch a little and then check your bag. Perfect, right? No. Little did I know, the start of the race was at least a mile away once we got out of the metro. My "time cushion" slowly began to dwindle. How long is this going to take? I didn't want to run, but I knew this was cutting it close---and yet there were thousands of runners around me. Tension began to fill the air along with the heavy scent of Ben Gay. By the time I get to bag check I've got 20 minutes until the start-----and I still haven't sent "my daily fax." I spy some port-a-shitters and do the math. 30 people, 20 minutes.......carry the 2......that's less than a minute per person. This wasn't going to work. If I wanted to be at the start and near the front I would have to take measures into my own hands--not literally. But the need to "make a conference call" outweighs all. And if I want to qualify for Boston, this has to happen. What to do? What to do? Look right, there's more people. Look left, there's more people. Look extreme left and there's trees. Look rig..........trees??? Slightly covered??? Possibly??? Are you kidding...absolutely. (Disclaimer: I'm 30 years old and have never graced nature with my "presence" or "presents"--whichever you prefer) TIP #1: Always have a terrible, old T-shirt to keep you warm at the start that you can afford to throw away. It will keep you warm and ready, plus it doubles as great substitute for TP. A couple minutes later and a few pounds lighter I run towards the start line---and it's almost another 1/2 mile away. This is ridiculous!!! By the time I reach the front I have about 3 minutes to spare. I position myself around the 7:00 mile group and begin to focus until I notice a larger women who's about 30-40lbs. overweight....in front of me. What the HELL is she doing here??? TIP #2: Be honest with yourself about where you are going to finish. For those of us who have trained months at an attempt to qualify for BOSTON or set a new PR, these people who believe it's alright to position themselves anywhere in the corrals truly mess up the logistics for everyone running. It's not only unfair and rude, it's unsafe. After a few maneuvers and a couple of do-si-dos, I positioned myself even further up near the front. Now it's me who might get trampled.

RACE:
I was warned the first 6 miles were hilly and they were right. A 7:20, 7:20, 6:40 for the first three miles followed by a 7:10 and 6:50. Chaotic? Yes. Stressful? No. Difficult to determine your pace? Absolutely. With my previous best a 3:09:14, I've never been at the front of the pack, never seen the wheelchair cyclists before out on the course and never knew how to run alongside one. With all the hills, the wheelchair athletes had a hell of a time getting out in front and staying out in front in the beginning. TIP #3: Do not wear headphones during the race. Too many times I saw cyclists barreling down the road yelling "On your right!" and no one moving because they were listening to some IPOD thingy. It's extremely dangerous for all involved. Granted, some people who didn't move were just oblivious to everyone around them, but what I fear the most is someone who's naturally oblivious and wearing an IPOD. Around mile 4 or 5 I caught up with the 3:10 pacer (qualifying time for me for Boston). With his little swarm of men attached at his hip and his 3 balloons marked 3:10 on his wrist so all could see, I became antsy. This was too slow and now I was boxed in. I point to the side to warn the runner on my right that I want out and he obliges. I merge running lanes, make a little surge and clear the pack. I just decided to go for 3 hours. It hadn't even occurred to me while I was doing it, but once I pulled ahead of the pace group, conscious or unconscious, I had made my decision. 3 hours was the time to beat and there was no turning back.

Once we hit the Kennedy Center I was in my rhythm and as I passed the Lincoln memorial my parents were there on the left, along with my brother, cheering me on. Things were going great, passed a few wheel chair athletes and kept a steady 6:49/6:50 mile pace. The weather was great, not too cold, and definitely not to hot. TIP #4: Wear some cotton gloves at the beginning of the race. It will keep your hands warm before you start and provide a nice wicking material for sweat, water, gatorade, etc out on the course. Plus, it can provide a barrier between your hand as you spill that millionth cup of water that day. Eventually you won't need the gloves and you can throw them on the ground. (Surprisingly, you'd be amazed at how much lighter your arms will feel after you discard them. It will give you some renewed energy. Heading back down Independence towards Hains Point you could begin to feel the wind pick up, but not distressingly so. Pacing was still consistent and I knew my friend was at mile 16 help pace me down the home stretch. Plus he was carrying a bottle for me so I wouldn't have to deal with the water stops---if elite athletes can have their own personal water bottles at the tables, why can't I have one myself? I feel no shame in this.

Hains Point: With my friend in tow, we ventured forth...backwards around Hains Point (how weird is that?) and by the time we hit the Marina side the wind began to retaliate for our refusal to give her the respect she was due in the previous 17 miles. Scorned by our indifference to her power, she struck back and fiercely. I took cover beyond the biggest runner I could find in front of me. Drafting illegal you say? Not in running. As I dodged and weaved from one Clydesdale to another the 14th St. bridged that had loomed in the distance stood before me. This was where things went wrong in 2003, but today would be different. With the wind at out backs, the 14th St. Bridge was a shadow of it's former self from years past. Flying up the hills as I am want to do I continue to surge past runner after runner. I even dropped my friend who was there to pace me. Determined not to left the wind affect my overall time, I knew I would need to make up some time from Hains Point and a slow start (mile 1-2). With that in mind, I surged as best I could. At the very least I knew, but tried not to say it, I had Boston in the bag. At mile 23, my friend found me again and we chugged along methodically picking off my competitors. Downtown was behind me, Hains Point and the 14th St. Bridge were as well, so was Crystal City now and soon the Pentagon. It's a great motivation factor when you have family at the race. You don't want their trip to be for naught. Mile 25 was here. My friend graciously fired up the crowd as I followed behind him. One mile to go. I could see the finish line, but it was on the other side of the road. For a brief second I entertained the idea of jumping the barrier, but at this point in the race I questioned whether I still had my "mad hops." (that's street lingo--for all you really white people) Thinking better of it, I run and run only to question...."WHERE THE HELL IS THE TURNAROUND!!! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!!!" After an aneurism and a mild panic attack, the turnaround came with my friend yelling at me to move my ass. This was it. The home stretch. With a little over a 1/2 mile to go I began my late surge. It always amazes me how good my kick is at the end of a race--no matter the distance. To date, I've only run against a couple of guys I know that have a better kick than me. That's not to say I'm the best runner, but if I have you in my sights near the end, I'd be the odds favorite to win. It just an issue whether I have you in my sights or not at the end. Needless to say, my kick did not fail to deliver, especially up Iwo Jima. And with my parents and brother there to cheer me on, I surged past a slew of runners, pumped my fist at the end and was elated. (You can actually check out the video of your finish online---and oh boy, how dorky was my fist pump and grunt? I nearly laughed for 10 minutes at how dumb I looked. In the 3:00 to 3:15 video, fast forward 3:45 into the video. I actually cross the line 3:03:49.)

Although the wind and my cold proved to much overcome, I still finished with a 3:03:36---almost six minutes faster than my PR in 2003 in Philadelphia on a much flatter course. I was 230th out of over 20,000 plus finishers and as of this posting, I'm actually 229th. Maybe I'll check again in another month and I'll be 228th. As my friend caught up to me I grabbed my medal and began to cry. I never know why, but I do. And today was no exception. It could have been that my parents and brother were there to finally see me run a great race (they were in Boston in 2004, the abysmal heat oppresive year to see me run a 3:49) or perhaps it was not knowing what the day was to bring and yet having it turn out great. I don't know for sure, but even as I write this, I begin to tear up again. I guess that's why I do this stuff. Maybe it's why we all do. And funny enough, I know I can break 3 hours. I'm so close that I don't even think it's an issue. If you want to know a secret, forget 3 hours, my new goal is 2:55.

After crossing the finish line and getting my picture taken another friend found me, Janet, and she informed me I had been given a slot for the NY Marathon the following Sunday to be a guide for an AWD (Athlete with Disabilities). I was beyond happy. But now it was time to rest, drink fluids and get my massage. After all, I still had two shows to do that day at The Kennedy Center. A 1:30pm and 4pm. Then it was off to dinner afterwards with family and friends. And let's just say I only needed one glass of wine. And now NY.............................

MARINE CORPS MARATHON 2007
Bib #11796
Clock time: 3:03:50
Chip time: 3:03:36
7:00 mile/pace
229th overall
217th male
44th in age division