Big changes coming to Philadelphia Marathon race weekend

Jen Miller has been lobbying for changes to the Philadelphia Marathon for years.  She wrote about it over a year ago as part of her column in the Philadelphia Inquirer, suggesting many concrete changes that seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Until today, that is.

Imagine her surprise to read a press release from the marathon this afternoon in which they laid out the many major changes coming to the 2016 edition of the race.  Almost every change was something Jen at one time suggested (and even some that I suggested, which I'm sure resulted from my widely read blog post on the subject).

Among the prominent changes:

• The race leadership will move from the Mayor's office to the Philadelphia Department of Parks and Recreation, the same department that handles the Broad Street Run, the nation's largest 10 miler, and the 6th biggest race of any size.
• The winner will now receive $10,000, more than double the size of the previous prize purse.
• The course has been altered to be more runner friendly, including removing the infamous out-and-back across the Falls Bridge that was inexplicably added to the course over five years ago.
• The half marathon will now take place on Saturday, removing congestion from the course for each race.

I've written about the Philadelphia Marathon a lot.  It's my hometown race.  It was my first marathon ever back in 2005.  I've run it six times and have PR'd each time.  My dad also ran it back in the 80's. I plan to run it many more times in the future, maybe even some day with my own son.  So there's a certain level of investment I have in this race, not to mention a lot of nostalgia, which means I'm happy these changes have finally come to the race I have loved for years in spite of its imperfections.

But it is also incredibly vexing, especially given my performance last fall.  For those new around here: I gave it my all in training last fall in an effort to break 3 hours, only to come up short on race day by a mere one minute and seven seconds.  It's easy to play the what if game in such a scenario; what if I had done more of x?  What if I had done less of y?  What if the course had been altered last year and I didn't have to run that stupid Falls Bridge detour? Would that have made the difference?

I also remember finishing the race last fall and not being able to get any food because the line was too crowded with half marathoners.  Not having to share a finish line or post race food with hordes of half marathoners would have been nice.

Coming to terms with missing my sub 3 goal - what was most likely my only shot at it - has been difficult, and the timing of all of these needed changes feels like rubbing salt in the wound.

But let's not end on such a dour note.  I can't overstate my excitement for the changes to the race and what it will mean for the race's future.  Hopefully people outside of Philly will start to realize what I've been saying for years: this is a fantastic race.

Marathon Man by Bill Rodgers

Want an engaging read about the running scene of 1970's New England?  Of course you do! Then look no further than Marathon Man by the marathon man himself, Bill Rodgers:

First a little background: Bill Rodgers was a New England road runner who dominated 1970's marathoning, and was most famous for his four wins apiece at the Boston and New York City Marathons.  He has won major marathons on five continents, finishing a total of 60, and now spends a lot of time doing guest speaking stints at marathons around the country, including the Philadelphia Marathon.  I saw him speak in 2013 and again at this year's marathon where I met him and bought his book.

The majority of the book toggles back and forth between a detailed description of his first win at Boston in 1975 when he was still an unknown in the sport, to his days as a high school and college student and a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War.  About 3/4 of the way through, the book finally moves into a straightforward linear narrative that goes on to describe his meteoric rise and the ups and downs of his subsequent career in road racing.

If you've ever seen Bill Rodgers speak, you'll know he has undiagnosed ADHD (which he also mentions in the book), and his book follows a similar pattern of chasing down random thoughts to narrative dead-ends.  Also, the book is absolutely riddled with typos and misspellings, which makes the ornery grammarian in me a tad berserk.  Whoever edited this thing should be fired.

Here's the thing, though: I don't care about the writing.  The story is just that compelling.

In addition to a memoir of a running legend, it's a fascinating account of what runners had to do back then just to make a living.  The Boston Marathon did not dole out the hundreds of thousands to its winners that it does today. Winners back then received the famous laurel wreath and a bowl of beef stew.  Most road races of that era had similarly ridiculous prizes. Rodgers describes one race in which the winner received a new set of car tires.  Because he didn't own a car, he offered them to the second place finisher, who also didn't own a car.  The tires made their way down the line of runners until finally finding someone who could actually use them.  Guys were out there every weekend killing themselves for the sake of random household appliances.

This is how the Amateur Athletic Union wanted it back then.  Runners who wished to compete in the Olympics were denied the professional and commercial support of their counterparts in other countries, and were forced to receive appearance fees under the table just to make a living.  To the AAU, protecting the integrity of the sport meant forcing elite athletes to live a spartan life of training and hardship while trying to compete against the best the world had to offer.

Yet Rodgers and his counterparts of the era doggedly persisted in the name of competition and honing their skills.  He goes on to describe taking eight guys from his Greater Boston Track Club down to the Philadelphia Marathon in 1974, driving down back roads to avoid paying tolls and all eight sleeping in one hotel room.  Rodgers won the race the following morning, after which they all piled back into the car and slowly made their way back north.  I love that.

I think in order to be a part of any community, it's important to understand the history behind it and to recognize the pioneers that forged the path before you.  That's why I love this book, because it shows me a deeper understanding of the man that is Bill Rodgers and what he did for this sport.

From the man himself: let's run forever.

Scott, fellow teacher; world's greatest profession - Let's Run Forever! - Bill Rodgers

How to run your fastest marathon ever and still be disappointed

Last Sunday I finished the 2015 Philadelphia Marathon in a personal record of 3:01:06.  It was the fastest I've ever covered 26.2 miles on foot by a minute and 59 seconds, yet I still came away from the race with a feeling of disappointment because I failed to run under three hours.

This is not to say that I didn't rejoice in my physical capabilities or marvel at the triumph of the human spirit.  I didn't exactly hang my head in shame afterwards or cry myself to sleep that night.  On the contrary, I drank some awesome beers with my awesome dad and some awesome running friends and laughed the morning away.

But the disappointment was still there.

I do get how silly this comes across, especially to non-runners.  It's an arbitrary time, one that I picked, and without any concrete rewards beyond the title of "sub 3 marathoner." The time I did run was a two minute PR, and as I mentioned three weeks ago, PR's at my age are becoming harder and harder to come by.  Two years ago I was ecstatic to have run 3:03:05, and now I've bettered that time yet feel disappointed.  It doesn't make sense and I know that.

The disappointment isn't just with the time goal.  But before we get into that, let's reflect on race strategy first.

I had a distinctly different race strategy from two years ago.  In 2013 I wrote all of the mile splits on my arm that I needed to hit in order to run a 3:05.  At each mile marker I compared the splits on my arm with the time on my watch, and as long as I stayed under, I just kept doing what I was doing.  This resulted in me going out too fast for the first few miles and hanging on for dear life towards the end.

This year I wanted to run consistent 6:50 miles while saving some juice for the kick at the end. I wanted to negative split the race.  So my plan was to keep an eye on my pace on my Garmin and try to run as evenly as possible.  As mentioned in my race report, I had a really tough time locking into a consistent pace.  I ended up looking at my Garmin far more often than I should have, stressing over how slow or fast I was running, which may have added to my erratic pace.  This may have also caused me to lose concentration on running the tangents and veer too far off.  In 2013 I ran 26.23, but this year it was 26.43.

The problem with the marathon is that there are so many factors that go into a performance, good or bad, that it's sometimes hard to isolate exactly what helped or hindered during the race.

I think it's clear that one of the biggest factors in this particular race was the wind.  I've never experienced wind like that in a race before.  But how much can I realistically blame my performance on it?  30 seconds?  A minute?  When do I stop searching for external factors to blame and concentrate on myself?

This brings us to just why I'm so disappointed.  One of the biggest factors contributing to my disappointment is how I performed in the last few miles of the race.  Now, the casual observer will note that I kept going in those final miles, kept pushing despite the realization that my A goal had slipped away.  I didn't quit.

But you see, in a way I did.  In those final miles, as I did the math in my head, I knew it was going to be close.  But at some point I gave up the fight.  And it absolutely kills me now to think back to those miles and know I let the fight inside of me die.  I never once said to myself, "This is hard, but I can do this."  My two amazing pacers, Robin and Kim who had jumped in at mile 23.5, kept telling me I could do it, and in response I just kept spitting back in their faces, "I'm not going to make it."  I let the pain win and accepted that I wasn't going to run sub 3, and might have imploded entirely were it not for them.

They say the marathon is a metaphor for life, and so it's disheartening to know just how easily I gave up.  To confront the fact that I may not be as strong as I think is a humbling feeling.

I've gotten a lot of nice comments, tweets, texts and Facebook messages over the last few days, all of them proud of what I did and some of them assuring me the elusive sub 3 marathon is just around the corner.  But the truth is, I highly doubt it.

Most marathoners peak at the age of 35, give or take a year.  That means, at best, I only have a few years left to make good on the sub 3 goal.  But the truth is I'm tired of training at the level I do, literally and figuratively.  It's exhausting and quite frankly detrimental to my own sanity and the health of my family.  While I would certainly like to do more marathons in the future, I just don't think I have it in me to train at this level again.  This last training cycle was meant to be one last hurrah.  I went into this marathon knowing it would likely be my one and only shot at sub 3, and I came up short by a mere 67 seconds.

Despite the gloom of this post, I still feel proud of what I accomplished.  Proud of my running journey and what I've overcome to get to where I am.  Grateful to those who have helped me along the way.  

I am humbled by running, but above all, I'm still excited about it and all it offers, excited to share it with friends and family, to see where it takes me in the future.  With or without a sub 3 marathon.

2015 Philadelphia Marathon race report

I'll try to keep this one to the facts and save the emotion for a separate post.

Quick stats:

13th marathon
6th Philadelphia Marathon
3rd marathon in 2015
Finishing time: 3:01:06 (PR)

Here goes the long version...

Pre-Race

The race was set to begin at 7am.  I woke up at 4am and showered, which I always do before a big race to wake up and loosen up the muscles.  I got to the train station in time for the 4:40 train into Philly and arrived at the entrance to the secure zone around 5:20 and breezed right through security.  I'm told the security line stretched a half mile long as it got closer to the race start, so thankfully I showed up early.

I made it to the starting line by 5:30 and just sat around by gear check for awhile since I didn't want to warm up for the race so early.  I would have run up and down the art museum steps to psych myself up for the race, but there were about 400 security fences in the way.

At about 6 I started getting ready.  I taped my nipples (using duct tape, natch), applied Body Glide, stuffed Gu packets into my shorts pockets, and stripped down to what I would be wearing at the start: shorts, shirt, throwaway hoodie, gloves and hat.  I handed my bag into gear check and got in line for a port-a-potty, then ran about a half mile warmup and did some dynamic stretches.

To my horror, around 6:35 I realized I still had to go to the bathroom, but the lines were outrageous at this point and I never would have started the race on time.  I walked around and found a small group of port-a-potties hidden away with only a small line, but after getting in line I found out these were only for elites.  A large and loud woman started yelling at runners to show their bibs and that only elites were allowed in this line.  I managed to hide behind two other runners as she came by and was able to use the port-a-potty here after all.

Once in my corral I had to endure the usual banter between the MC, Mayor Nutter and other people onstage.  I really wish the Philadelphia Marathon would consider just playing music before the start.  They then announced that the start would be delayed due to a car accident somewhere up on the course.  Great.  I love getting myself psyched to start a race only to have it be delayed by 15 minutes (no I don't).


The Start

They sang the French national anthem to honor those affected by last weekend's terrorist attacks in Paris, then the American national anthem, then the wheelchair division started, then the elites, then my corral - the maroon corral.

The first mile was a nightmare.  My garmin told me I was doing a 6:28 pace, which I found hard to believe, then beeped well before the first mile marker.  This completely threw me off my game, and I ended up having pacing issues for the entire race.  I just could not keep a steady pace.  I would look down at my watch and see I was going way below a 6:50 pace, so I would slow down, only to see a second later that I was doing a 7:18 pace.


Mile 5

By mile 5 I could already feel a twinge in my shin, and around the same time I started to feel the familiar pain of a side stitch under my right rib, same as the half marathon three weeks ago.  Great.  So this is how it's going to be.

I saw a few people from my running club at mile 6, and a few employees from the Haddonfield Running Company at mile 8.  Also, Bryan from Twitter snapped a picture of me around this point.

I was sticking to the plan and keeping within my time goal, but it was anything but smooth and easy, and I was already worried about how I was going to fare in the latter miles.


Mile 10

The worst hills of the course were now behind me, and I knew I would have several miles until the next hill, so I tried to settle into a comfortable pace and take advantage of the relatively flat and straight course.

Around mile 10 I saw Brandon from the South Jersey Athletic Club.  We exchanged a few words and ran together for a few minutes, but he was doing the half and ended up picking up his pace.  I was trying hard to stick to my pacing and save some for the second half of the race, so I stayed behind.


Mile 13.1

Just before the halfway point, the half marathoners veer off to the right to the finish line while the full marathoners head left, past the art museum and out onto Kelly Drive towards Manayunk.  I passed the halfway mark in 1:30:17, which was exactly where I wanted to be.  I was trying to negative split this race, so I wanted to run a slower first half and save some for the latter miles.

At mile 14 I made a tactical decision and stopped to go to the bathroom.  I was surprised that I had to go at all as I hadn't had much to drink that morning and in addition to using the port-a-potties a few hundred times, I had also watered every nearby tree before the start.  I would estimate this cost me about 15 seconds.

Normally this is one of my favorite parts of any Philadelphia race, because gone are the hairpin turns of Center City and the hills of Fairmount Park.  Runners are sufficiently warmed up at this point, but it's still before the real pain begins, so it's easy to lock into a consistent pace.  Most runners hate this section, though, for its lack of spectators, but I enjoy the solitude and the chance to zone out.

But the wind.  I have never felt wind this bad in a race before, including last year's Boston. Heading along the Schuylkill, we were repeatedly smacked in the face with wind gusts coming off the river.  It was torture and incredibly dispiriting.


Mile 17

The worst part of the entire course.  The course ends its pleasant ambling along the river and hangs a sharp left across the Falls Bridge, down an incline, hangs a complete 180 in the middle of the street, then back up the incline and back across the Falls Bridge.


Manayunk (19-21)

The sidestich and the hills took their toll in Manayunk, and I purposefully slowed down to help ease the pain and keep myself in the game, if only for a minute.

I remember loving this section of the race the first few times I ran Philly, because it's one gigantic block party with music and food and screaming spectators lining the sidewalks.  But particularly in yesterday's race, it was all a blur as I was too deep into my own world of pain. My eye was on my watch as I desperately clung to the hope that my goal was still feasible. The math worked out in my head, but just barely.  I ditched my gloves and kept pumping my arms and legs as hard as I could.


Mile 21

I must have caught another wind, because this is when I really thought I could do it.  I was still running a 6:50 pace and knew the headwind coming out to Manayunk would now be a tailwind heading back to the art museum, and the course would level and straighten out again, allowing me to cruise to the finish.  It would be close, but it was doable.

I also knew that I had my two friends meeting me at mile 24, so I began focusing on them.

Imagine my frustration, then, as gusts of wind continued to blow in my face as I headed back. It would appear the wind had changed direction.


Mile 23.5

I had put out the call on Facebook two weeks earlier looking for someone to pace me in the last two miles of the marathon.  The catch was that this person would have to be capable of running two consecutive 6:50 miles, which limited the number of people.  Lo and behold, not one but two of the women from my Wednesday night running group Who's Up? volunteered to help out.

Robin and Kim met me earlier than expected and fell into step with me.  I must have been a peach to be around at this point, muttering monosyllabic complaints and negative thoughts, but both of them continued to tell me I was doing great and that I could make it.  They were an absolute Godsend, and I just can't thank them enough for the help they offered.  While I didn't make my goal of sub 3, I have no doubt I wouldn't have run a PR without them.

I was struggling but still hovering around 7 minute miles.  The math I was doing in my head told me if I kept up a 7 minute pace, I could make it, but I knew the .2 miles at the end would take at least a minute, and that that was probably going to make the difference.


Mile 26

As the crowds thickened and the security fences started, Kim and Robin veered off the course.  I had warned them ahead of time that they wouldn't be able to finish with me, so I knew this was coming.  I had to do the final .2 on my own.

I watched as my watch passed 3 hours with the finish line just around the curve.  Somehow, amidst the hundreds of screaming spectators and the emotion of the moment, I heard my dad call my name as I kept pushing, muscles screaming and all the pain, sacrifice and hard work of the last four months spilling forth onto the course.  I high fived Mayor Nutter as I crossed the line and keeled over, gasping for breath.  It was everything I ever wanted in a marathon finish, only a minute and 7 seconds too slow.

Post Race

After finishing I drank some Gatorade and collected my medal, and wanted to get some food but the line was incredibly crowded with half marathon finishers, so I kept moving.  I did manage to grab a cup of chicken broth and a bottle of some sort of fruit infused water, but no food.

I found my dad at the family reunion area in front of the Franklin Institute where we took some pictures.

Immediately post-race
Photo by Wayne Partenheimer

With my dad at Logan Square
Photo by some guy who recognized me from YouTube

People from my running group were all meeting at nearby Tir Na Nog for drinks, so we stopped in there for a few beers before heading home.  It was a blast hanging out at the bar swapping stories over beers with everyone and celebrating everyone's successes.

At Tir Na Nog with members of Who's Up?
Photo by Wayne Partenheimer

My first beer in 2 months!
Photo by Wayne Partenheimer

With my amazing pacers, Kim and Robin
Photo by Wayne Partenheimer

I was a little disappointed that I missed my goal, and by such a close margin, but I'll get more into why in the next post.

At the end of the day, I still ran 26.2 miles faster than I ever have before in my life, and got to bond with my dad and running friends afterwards.  Four months of hard work ended not in disappointment, then, but with laughter and friends and good beer.  Success.

And with that, the 2015 Philadelphia Marathon comes to a close.  Thanks for reading.

Photo by Wayne Partenheimer

2015 Philadelphia Marathon goals and race strategy

So here we are.  The night before my next marathon.  My nerves are a wreck.  Let's talk goals, shall we?

Goals

I have three goals for this race tomorrow:

1. Run a sub 3.
2. Run under 3:03:05 for a new PR.
3. Run as far under 3:10 as possible for a 3rd BQ and possible trip back to Boston for 2017. 

I will always love the marathon distance, and this is far from my last one, but the truth is I really want this to be the last one for which I give my all in training.  To be honest I'm tired of the self induced stress over a few measly minutes.

I want this to be my marathon swan song.  I want to go out feeling strong and know I achieved something great.  There is, of course, always the possibility that I will not achieve any of my goals tomorrow, which begs the question: will I be able to come to terms with that?  How will I react?

Here's a fact: I've run the Philadelphia Marathon five times now and have set a PR every single time.

2005: 4:29:47
2006: 4:12:12
2009: 3:30:58
2010: 3:09:45
2013: 3:03:05

What's another three minutes and six seconds?  Let's hope I can keep up this streak tomorrow.


Race Strategy

Bad news.  There is no 3:00 pacer this year, as the first pace group starts at 3:05.  So my plan is going to be to use my garmin and run the first two miles in roughly 7:00.  I'll then bring the time down to 6:50 and try to hold even splits there until the end of the race when I'll try to find another gear to kick into.

The good news is that this year I have two friends who are going to meet me at mile 24 and pace me to the finish.  I know I said this last time and my friend didn't show up, but I trust the two women who volunteered this year to not flake out on me.

The bad news is that both Stevie and Neale won't be there at the finish line, as Stevie had to go down to Florida earlier this year before I meet her there for Christmas.  This took a bit of wind out of my sails when I first found out, but I've had time to accept it.  My dad is coming into the city, though, and it's always great to have his support.

It's going to be a battle tomorrow, that's for sure.  Time to make good on four months of hard work.

I'll catch you on the other side, internet.

One week until the 2015 Philadelphia Marathon

This taper has been a lot more relaxed than I would like, but it seems to be working, as I ran 7 miles this morning with the second half at marathon goal pace (6:50) and was completely pain free.  My shin feels back to normal.

There is naturally a lot of hand-wringing and fretting over my swift decline in training over the past two weeks, and I can only hope race day adrenaline and muscle memory will be enough to pull me through the course in under three hours.

The last week of marathon training is usually more about mental preparation than physical, so now I just have to picture myself running Philly's streets as ferociously as possible in one week's time.

One week to go.  Let's make it count.

2015 Baltimore Marathon Race Recap

Five years ago, I decided to run the Atlantic City Marathon as a training run for the Philadelphia Marathon five weeks later.  It ended up being a great decision as the weather was near perfect, it was a great way to knock out a long run, and an overall confidence booster for Philly.

Two years ago I decided to do the same thing except run the Baltimore Marathon instead.  I registered for the race and booked a hotel room and everything, only to back out at the last minute due to shin splints.  It was my first and only DNS.  I'm happy to report that I finally got my chance to run Baltimore yesterday morning, once again as a training run for Philly five weeks from now.

I drove down to Baltimore on Friday afternoon shortly after school ended.  Got stuck in some traffic on I-95 but otherwise made it to the M&T Bank Stadium (home of the Baltimore Ravens) without incident.  Parked in one of the lots just outside of the stadium and followed the massive stream of people going inside.


The Expo

Because the marathon was on a Saturday, the expo was open until 9pm Friday night to give people like me time to get there after work.  Runners had to walk up several ramps to one of the VIP sections of the stadium where the usual assortment of running related companies had set up shop.  The entrance was in the middle with bib pick up and shirt pickup cleverly placed at either end to ensure runners passed by every company.  Once I picked up my bib and shirt, I headed back out to my car.

Friday Night

I stayed in my favorite hotel in Baltimore; it's very small and called my car.  Not very spacious and few amenities, but the proximity to the starting line (1/2 mile) and the price simply can't be beat.  I was asleep by 9pm, lulled by the whoosh of cars on I-395 overhead, and at 6am I slowly woke up and began to get ready as hundreds of cars jockeyed for parking spaces around me.  Alleviating worry over race day parking was definitely a perk.


The Start

The stadium was once again open with full use of its bathrooms; being able to use flush toilets is a huge plus before a race of any size.  Security poked through my bag on the way to the start, and I wandered around for a bit debating whether to wear a long sleeved shirt during the race or not.  I eventually settled on just the short sleeved shirt.

At around 7:30 I finally checked my bag at gear check (after a moment of panic that they weren't going to let me check it because it wasn't a clear plastic bag) and headed over to the starting line next to Camden Yards.

There were no official corrals at the starting line, just a few signs of estimated finish times interspersed along the crowd.  I tried to place myself as best I could.

One of the highlights of the start of this race was listening to the Star Spangled Banner being sung and realizing those words were written just a few miles from where we stood.


The Course

The course loops all around Baltimore before finishing back by the football and baseball stadiums.  One of the highlights was passing through the Baltimore Zoo.  Zookeepers stood at the entrance holding live ravens on their arms.  A few more zookeepers with various squawking birds were posted along the route, and before long we shot back out into the park.

The course took in various neighborhoods, the center of town, and several parks and bodies of water. I would estimate only about half the course had a decent amount of spectators.

The first half of the course was mostly flat, but the second half picked up some rolling hills. Nothing outrageous, but not exactly welcome in the back nine of a marathon.

This race was notable in that the half marathoners had a completely different start time and starting line from the full marathoners.  This seemed like a great idea until the half marathoners joined us at mile 16 and the course suddenly became extremely congested as I weaved my way through runners going at vastly different paces from me.  Negative points, Baltimore.


Aid Stations

The aid stations were perfect.  They were well spaced out, well stocked and well manned. Each one featured water and Gatorade.  Several aid stations also had food, including Gu, bananas, chips, and even mini Dunkin Donuts.  I hadn't eaten a large dinner the night before, and I never eat breakfast the morning of a race due to nerves/GI issues, so I was worried about fueling for this race.  All the food options on the course were extremely helpful.


Post Race

All relay runners, half and full marathoners finished together, and I had to make sure I was given the right medal before collecting my bag of chips, banana, water and Gatorade chocolate protein drink.  Runners then exited into "Celebration Village" where they could meet up with friends and family, ring the PR bell, grab their bags and get changed, pay $4 for a Michelob Ultra, listen to a live band, and buy food from a number of food trucks set up.

After taking in the festivities and reveling in my accomplishment for a bit, I walked back to my car and drove the two hours home to South Jersey and changed from weekend warrior right back into my role as suburban dad.

The Takeaway

So glad I got another shot at this race after being left behind two years ago.

I took it slowly during this race, enjoying the crowds and scenery, telling myself to not be a hero as today was not a record setting day.  Today was all about getting some miles on my legs and celebrating racing.

My goal was to start slowly and start picking up the pace in the last few miles, which I did.  In the last half mile, I fell into a dead sprint, soaring across the finish line feeling like all I want to do for the rest of my life is run marathons.  That is the feeling that was lacking from Boston last spring.  I was only three minutes behind my time from Boston, but how I felt in the last half mile of each race was a world of difference.  I felt so alive yesterday, like I finally get the reason behind the second running boom.  You don't always have to push yourself to a PR and/or the brink of exhaustion to enjoy the high of running a marathon, and I can see why there are people who run so many a year.  Yesterday's race reminded me how much I love racing, and how, if money were no object, I would be out there as often as my wife's patience allows, racing my damn heart out as often as possible.

I would definitely recommend this race to anyone.  It has a very similar vibe to my beloved Philly Marathon - a mid sized race with great organization and decent crowd support and a fast and scenic course.  At the end of the day, the Charm City puts on - dare I say it - one charming race.  Thanks for a great time, Baltimore.  Hope to be back someday.

Marathon training: then and now

Out of the 11 marathons I've completed in my day, my most successful one was two years ago at the 2013 Philadelphia Marathon.  My goal was to come in under 3:05 and qualify for Boston, which I achieved with a minute and 55 seconds to spare after a very intense and bumpy training cycle.

Now, two years later, I am throwing everything I have at one last training cycle.  It's one last effort for a big PR.  Namely, a sub 3 hour marathon.  The problem is, I'm constantly wondering if it's enough.  I'm constantly comparing this training cycle to the one I went through two years ago.

Then: 32 years old and married.
Now: 34 years old and married with a 14 month old son.

Then: Ran almost exclusively in the afternoons after work.
Now: Running almost exclusively in the mornings before work.

Then: Topped out at 73 miles per week.  No running on Mondays and some serious speedwork on Thursdays, including lots of stadium stairs and 100 meter sprints at 100% effort.
Now: Topping out around 60 - 65 miles per week.  Maintaining my running streak by doing one slow mile on Mondays.  Speedwork in the morning is difficult because it's still dark at 5am.  Also I can't sprint at 100% for fear of aggravating my left quad.

Then: No alcohol or soda.  Significantly cut down on junk food and restaurant meals.
Now: No alcohol or soda.  Significantly cut down on junk food and restaurant meals.

Then: Brought my weight down to 130 by marathon day.
Now: Currently at 139.

Then: Strict bedtime of 10pm, up at 6am for work.
Now: Loose bedtime of 8-9pm, up at 4am to run then get ready for work.  Quality of my own sleep largely depends on the quality of my son's sleep.

Then: Strength work after every run: pushups, pull-ups, abs, dumbbells, etc.  Also jump roping.
Now: Always pressed for time, my post run routine has been significantly decreased.

Then: Rode my bike to work 2.5 miles every day.
Now: Riding my bike to work 1 mile every day.

Then: Ran the Rock n' Roll Philly Half at full effort in September; backed out of Baltimore Marathon in October due to shin splints.
Now: Rock n' Roll Philly Half moved to end of this month due to Pope visit; slated to run Baltimore Marathon this Saturday as a long run.

Then: Took 1.5 weeks completely off of running in middle of October and another week at low mileage to recover from shin splints.
Now: No major injuries.  Hitting all the miles.

Then: Self doubt high.
Now: Self doubt high.

Then: Wanted a BQ more than anything else in life.
Now: Sub 3 would be fantastic, but a PR or 3rd BQ would also be good.

Why I give up alcohol before a goal race

When I train for a goal race, I usually give up alcohol about two months out.  This is never easy, mind you.  I don't want to paint myself as a drunk, but a cold craft beer is one of the great pleasures in life, in my opinion.  So why deny myself the joy of an oat soda or two after a long day's work?

I do it for a few reasons:

1. It helps me cut weight.  I am not overweight by any means, but when training for a goal race I can always stand to drop a few lbs.  Not drinking saves me a lot of calories over the long haul, in addition to the temptation of eating greasy bar food when I'm out.
2. It helps me stay focused.  I may still go out during marathon training, but the temptation to stay up till 3am is gone when I'm drinking water all night.  This makes it much easier to get up early to run.
3. It saves me a lot of money, which I can then spend on races and other race-related things.
4. So much of marathon training is about sacrifice, and I like the idea of sacrificing something I love to help me keep my eye on the prize.

Tomorrow marks two months until the Philadelphia Marathon, so tomorrow I start my self enforced sobriety.  I'm saying goodbye to the boozy life tonight by enjoying one of the best fall beers I've ever had, which my dad picked out for me.  I'm pairing it with a dram of Woodford Reserve's double oaked bourbon.  The bitter hops pair brilliantly with the slight sweetness of the bourbon, and I'm in heaven.

It's going to be a long two months.  I'll catch you on the other side.

Movie Monday: Ginger Runner and the NYC Marathon

I love the Ginger Runner and I love his videos even more.  They're incredibly well-polished; the editing and sound are leaps and bounds above the average YouTube content, yet they never lose the amateur feel of just an average guy talking into a small camera.

I've posted one of his videos before; his running of the 2014 Gorge Waterfalls 50k.

In this particular video, he chronicles his journey to and subsequent running of the 2014 New York City Marathon, the one with nasty wind and temperatures throughout the day.  I love his sentiment as he approaches the finish: "Got my ass handed to me today, and loved every second of it.  Let's finish strong."

Enjoy!

Keeping things in perspective

Counting marathoning as a hobby is a bit of a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, it keeps me healthy, gives me a great sense of accomplishment, helps me meet new people, and takes my mind off of the stresses of life.  It accomplishes what every hobby should.

But.

It takes a lot to run marathons.  Sacrifice.  Patience.  Time.  It's one thing to dream big and set big goals, but it's difficult to not feel like the world is crashing down when those goals aren't met.  It starts to feel like more than a hobby when it just shouldn't.  Hobbies shouldn't consume an entire life at the expense of other areas, nor should so much self-worth be based on an arbitrary time goal.

Keeping perspective during a marathon training cycle is difficult but something I need to consistently work on.

Yesterday Stevie, Neale and I went to Wildwood, NJ.  We spent some time on the beach and then spent the night with a friend before heading out this morning.  I had saved my 8 mile run to do on the beach, reasoning that the change of scenery and running on the beach would be preferable to running my same old boring running routes at home.

Well.

It didn't quite go according to plan.  It was much hotter than I anticipated in the afternoon, and when you run at the beach you pretty much run in direct sunlight the entire time.  The humidity soaked through my shoes within 3 miles so that they squelched with every step thereafter.  I barreled into a headwind for much of the run.  It was slow and monotonous and not at all the kind of run I had envisioned.

But afterwards we all went to the beach where Neale went into the water for the first time of his life (he'd been to the beach before, but only ever stood at the water's edge).  We took turns holding his hands while the waves approached him, and the look of sheer joy on his face is one I hope I never forget.  The shrieks, the laughter, the giant grin, the splashing and the pulling of his mother's arms as he struggled to go farther... It made my heart swell to see him take to the ocean the way he did.

Greater men than I have tried and failed to put words to their feelings of love, so I will leave it at this: Good runs or bad, I will always love my son more.

Possibility Days

Here we go again...

Exactly two years ago today, I formally announced that I intended to train for the 2013 Philadelphia Marathon with the intention of qualifying for Boston.  I achieved both goals with a PR that still stands to this day.

And now I'd like to make a similar announcement: I intend to run the 2015 Philadelphia Marathon (my 6th) in a time below 3 hours.  My first ever sub 3 marathon.  And most likely my last.

My PR is 3:03:05, just over 3 minutes from the coveted sub 3 title, yet I feel I'm already operating at the outer limits of my abilities and patience.  Can I run a sub 3?  I feel confident I can.  But the required training involves time that, as a husband, father and full time public high school teacher, I'm already stretching as is.  I would love to give it my all one last time before running marathons just for fun in the future (inasmuch as marathons can be considered "fun").

Here's what will remain the same as last time:

• I will once again be self coached, drawing on my own experience and information culled from articles, books and other runners.
• I'll train 6 days a week, long runs on Sundays, rest days on Mondays, and keeping mileage around 60-70 miles per week.
• I'll cross train and strength train as much as possible but will focus mainly on the running.
• Speedwork once a week.
• Increased focus on nutrition while cutting out all alcohol two months out.
• Cutting about 10 pounds to get to race weight of 130.

Here's what will be different this time around:

• More progression runs and runs ending in goal pace.  I really want to practice negative splitting, which has always been one of my weaknesses.  My MO in longer distance races is to go out at what I consider  a sustainable pace, and then hold on for dear life towards the end.
• Run the Baltimore Marathon as a training run.  Technically this was the plan last time around, but I started to suffer from shin splints and had to cancel that plan.
• Focus more on quality of runs, not the quantity of miles.  I simply don't have the same amount of time to train like I did last time, and I need to make each workout count.  Each workout should have a plan and a goal rather than just the goal of adding more mileage.
• Run the bulk of my runs early in the morning before work.  Becoming a morning runner is one of my life's goals, but sleep always wins out.
• Make a stronger effort to keep my wife and son as a priority in my life.  Remind myself that I don't need the marathon like I need a positive and healthy relationship with my family.

I've been cycling through periods of intense excitement ("LET'S DO THIS!!!") to periods of self doubt ("Ugh... what's the point of doing yet another marathon and training so much just to lower my time by three minutes?").  I'm worried I'm not as committed as I should be, but for now I am going to stick to the plan of just going for it.

The good news is that I will be in a new age group for the 2017 Boston Marathon, meaning my qualifying time will be 3:10.  If my goal is to run a sub 3 but I miss it by a few minutes, I still attain my B goal of making it back to Boston with plenty of time to spare.

I do hope you'll follow along on this journey.  I'm not trying to be some sort of coach or marathon expert, but let's just say this ain't my first rodeo and I've learned a thing or two over the years.  If you want to leave me encouragement or even constructive criticism about my training, I'd be more grateful than you know.

You can also follow me on twitter: @Spartenheimer

Enjoy the ride, folks.  It's going to get intense in these parts.

2015 Boston Marathon reflections

In the 5 days that have passed since completing my first Boston Marathon, the question I've gotten the most (after "what place did you come in?") was "are you happy with your time?" And the answer?  It's complicated.

I told myself going into the race that I would be happy with anything under 3:30.  I had to hustle down the homestretch on Boylston in order to make this goal, but I made it.

But time isn't the only arbiter of success when it comes to racing.  Like I wrote last fall, you don't have to run a PR to feel successful.

I was talking with Stevie the other night when she asked me a similar question: how did I feel about Boston now that I'd completed it and had time to reflect on it?

It was hard to put into words.  Towards the end, I felt beat down by the marathon.  Weak.

Stevie: But isn't that how you feel with every marathon?

Well, yes and no.  I certainly feel beat down physically at the end of every marathon, but it's usually me delivering the beatdown, not the marathon.  When I know I am pushing myself hard, I may feel tired and sore, but I feel anything but weak.  The exhaustion I feel fuels a sense of strength in me, which in turn drives me to push even harder.  Time doesn't always matter.  It's usually that feeling of personal power and strength that I'm after.

But it's easy to feel strong when things are going your way.  Being forced to confront the fact that I may not be as strong as I think I am is exactly why the marathon is so humbling, and why I love it.  So while I felt weak and demoralized in the final miles of Boston, I reveled in the humility provided.  Well, maybe not until afterwards.  But I made my time goal and despite that sense of weakness I felt, I have still come away with an awe and respect for Boston.

Does any of this make sense?  I told you it was complicated.

I did, of course, have a lot going against me, much of which I couldn't control.

• The weather.  Probably the worst weather I've ever experienced in any race of any length.  20mph headwind, steady rain for over half the race, and 45 degrees.
• Poor race day nutrition.  This was my own dumb fault as I forgot to bring my gels to Boston and again forgot to bring anything to the starting line with me.  I didn't take in any fuel other than Gatorade until mile 18.
• Poor weather during training cycle.  I ran every mile of training outside in some awful conditions including plenty of temperatures in the teens and an awful lot of snow and ice.  This certainly made me feel badass, but the weather stopped me from doing much speed work.
• Probably went out too fast in the first half, which everyone warns you not to do, but I swore I felt like I was holding back based on effort.
• I'd picked up a nasty cough while in Germany with my students over spring break, and the cough hung on until the day of the marathon.  The day after?  Completely gone.  Naturally.
• Lack of sleep.  My son is eight months old and still won't sleep through the night.  I have felt like a zombie since August, and while I got the miles in, the quality of those miles definitely suffered.  Again, I barely did any speed work.  Only a handful of tempo runs, and no track work like I normally do.

Overall, I'm proud of what I overcame, proud of the journey to Boston.  The overall experience was an incredible one, despite the tough physical and mental hardships towards the end.

And I keep returning to that finishing stretch on Boylston Street, but rather than describe it again, I'll let Vladimir Nabokov take us off:

"Listen - I want to run all my life, screaming at the top of my lungs.  Let all of life be an unfettered howl.  Like the crowd greeting the gladiator.

Don't stop to think, don't interrupt the scream, exhale, release life's rapture. Everything is blooming.  Everything is flying.  Everything is screaming, choking on its screams.  Laughter.  Running.  Let-down hair.  That is all there is to life."

From the short story "Gods" by Vladimir Nabakov 

DIY Marathoning: The Case Against Training Plans

The other day I entered a fellow runner's Dream Race Weekend giveaway, but I should have known better.  I'm now on his e-mail list and have already received more than one unsolicited e-mail as to why I should sign up for his coaching services.  Each message contains tidbits of his running wisdom, including this pearl:

"Today, I want to expose how being a Team of 1 is particularly destructive to runners."

Sorry, you lost me with that line.

Here's a fact about me: I have run 10 marathons, several half marathons, and races of all other distances, yet I have never in my life followed a training plan or coach.

When I ran my first marathon in 2005 at the age of 24, there wasn't nearly the amount of information available as there is today.  My solution was to simply run as much as I could, increasing my distance bit by bit each day (even this wasn't terribly accurate, as all I had was a stopwatch to keep track of time, not distance).  I hit the wall of the Philly Marathon that year as early as mile 16, and walked/ran the rest to a 4:29:47 finish.

While I was incredibly proud of having finished a marathon, I was also seized by the desire to do better.  I knew I wasn't finished with the marathon yet.  I began chipping away at my time over the years, and it wasn't long before I allowed myself to set the ludicrous goal of qualifying for Boston, that Holy Grail of running accomplishments for average Joes like me.

So how did I manage to knock off almost a full 90 minutes from my marathon debut to my current PR of 3:03:05?

Well, as I said, what I didn't do was follow a training plan.

There are two instances in which a person might follow a training plan:

1. He is training for his first race at a given distance.
2. He is training to get faster at a distance he has already raced.

I understand that training for a marathon is a monumental and sometimes scary undertaking for many people, and they want some form of guidance and reassurance as they prepare for the unknown.  But could training for your first marathon truly be as simple as running a little bit farther every day?  If your goal is simply to finish, is a schedule crammed to the rafters with tempo runs, long runs, speed drills and other nonsense really necessary?

Ok, so my questionable strategy allowed me to finish the marathon.  But that brings us to #2. What if you've already run a marathon and want to get faster?  What if, like me, your goal is to join that illustrious club of Boston Qualifiers?

Well, let me explain it like this: I'm a high school German teacher.  That means lots of messy German grammar, such as adjective declensions and syntax that constantly involves throwing random words to the end of a sentence.  When I teach new grammar concepts to my students, I try to avoid the temptation of simply telling them the grammar rule and making them memorize it.  Instead, I expose them to authentic materials: poems, song lyrics, advertisements, children's books, etc.  From there I let them look for patterns and determine the grammar rule on their own before applying it to their own speaking and writing.  I let them learn by doing.

After running my first marathon, each time I entered a new marathon training cycle, I asked myself what realistic, small changes could I make to my training?  With each cycle and accompanying marathon, I learned a little more about myself and how I react to certain aspects of training.  As I continued running marathons, my experience started to count for more than anything a training plan could have ever told me. I started to intuitively understand the marathon distance and what was required to go faster.  The big picture became important, and I began to think of training as a lifestyle rather than just one crossed-off workout after another.  I learned by doing.

The fact is, a random training plan found on the internet or in a book doesn't know you.  It doesn't know your daily responsibilities, your family life, what the weather is like where you live, your preferred pace or your preferred time of day to run.  Blindly following a training plan takes the thinking out of it, which creates a disconnect between what is required to go faster and understanding why that is.  Understanding the why behind something is so important, and getting to that point on your own can be so much more powerful than if someone simply tells you what to do.  Learn by doing.

So what does my training plan look like now?  I run every day because I know my body can handle it (though on Mondays I only do a mile to maintain my run streak and let myself rest).  I do long runs on Sundays.  I eat a varied and mostly healthy diet.  I do strength training and core work.  Above all, my training plan is a fluid one.  I am constantly adjusting mileage and effort as I go to accommodate how my body feels.

I should mention I'm not trying to sell you my training plan.  There is already such a cacophony of advice out there, and most of it is from someone trying to become the next marathon guru or sell you his coaching services.  Take all of this advice with a grain of salt. Yes, including mine.

I'm also not trying to rail against those who follow training plans or coaches.  You have to do what you need to do to reach your goals, and if following a training plan or even spending money on a coach is going to be what gets you there, then go for it.  I'm merely trying to emphasize there is another way.  It takes time and patience, but I am living proof that you can set lofty goals, goals you have no business setting, and still reach them.  And yes, you can still reach them as a team of 1.

The coldest day of winter

About a year ago I posted about the worst run of my life; 16 miles in a steady rain and wind with the temperature in the upper 30's.  I ran alone and was cold, wet and miserable the entire time.

Today I almost topped it.

I ran my first 20 miler of the season last Sunday, and wanted to drop back down again this Sunday before jumping up again in March, so I planned 16 today.  Unfortunately, temperatures plummeted last night and I woke up this morning to a rather frosty 9 degrees.

I had a gigantic breakfast (3 scrambled eggs with cheese, potatoes, broccoli, diced tomatoes and spinach mixed in, two pieces of toast and OJ), and waited for the temperature to rise a little.  By 2pm it had only risen a few degrees.  When I finished around 4, it still looked like this:

The 31 mph wind gusts coming off of the Cooper River and Newton Lake were torturous.  The thin layers of ice and snow on parts of the roads were treacherous.  The brilliant winter sun coming off of said snow and ice was blinding.

The long run today was challenging, to say the least.

I am not normally one for mantras, but I found myself repeating several times throughout the run, "I am stronger than winter."  This eventually devolved into a lot of yelling and cursing in the latter miles.  The streets of South Jersey have never known such profanity.

When I finished, I took a picture in the backyard:

Train for a spring marathon, they said.  It'll be fun, they said.

As tough as today's run was, and as much as I lament the fact that the Boston Marathon is in April, necessitating so much mileage in the winter months, I don't think I would have it any other way.  The sense of accomplishment I have after a run like this is incomparable.  And nothing tastes as good as a dark porter after a long, hard winter run.

And tomorrow the relentless forward march of marathon training goes on...

The relentlessness of marathon training

The word that comes to mind lately when I think of marathon training is "relentless."  Each day brings another training run, and each week increases the intensity and total miles ever so slightly.  It doesn't matter if I've had a long day at work, if I got little sleep the night before, or if I haven't eaten properly.  The next scheduled training run arrives whether I'm ready or not, and the miles just keep on piling up, day after day after day.

For the most part I like it like this.  I like the intensity, the feeling of accomplishment, the sense of challenging myself when it would be so easy to stay inside all winter.

But as every marathoner knows, there are some pretty dark moments in every training cycle when I seriously question why this is my hobby.

But as with anything in life, there are pros and cons, ups and downs, strikes and gutters, and if the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, then maybe it is all worth it.  Right now the parts are made up mostly of cold, darkness, sweaty clothes, and even some doubt.  But lodged somewhere in there is still a healthy dose of excitement for marathon weekend in April, and when it's all said and done and I can finally examine the whole, I'm sure it will all be worth it.

2015 Boston Marathon training plan

It's December 20, 2014.  This puts us at exactly four months away from the 2015 Boston Marathon, and four months is typically when I begin a marathon training plan.

I'll mention first that I'm not planning to PR at Boston.  The goal is to train hard this winter and arrive at the starting line fit, healthy and confident, and to enjoy race day and its atmosphere. Training intensely through a dark and cold winter with a baby at home, and racing on a more difficult course than Philly, all add up to more stress than I'd like over the coming months.

Here is the plan for the next four months, which will be pretty similar to my usual marathon routine:

• I will continue the streak for as long as I am healthy and able.
• Sundays will be my long run day, and Mondays will be my rest day in which I will only run a mile.
• I used to do sprint work on the track every Thursday, but because I am not attempting a PR, I may not do this as much.  I hate sprinting.
• I will definitely scale back on the alcohol, but probably not cut it out completely.  Can't give up on my Wednesday night running buddies, can I?
• I am toying with the idea of running a 100 mile week.  This was one of my goals while training for the Philly Marathon last year, but I only made it to 73 before I developed shin splints in one leg.  This time I'll build up to it a lot more slowly.
• I'm going to do my best to become a morning runner.  This is something I've typically struggled with over the years.  I've just never been good at getting up earlier than I have to.
• As usual, I will concentrate on refining my diet and reigning in my appetite.

It's been over a year since my last marathon (though I did do a 50k last May), and I'm looking forward to having a physical goal to work towards again.  It helps that it's the Boston Freaking Marathon that I'm working towards.  So much of my time and energy over the past several years have gone into this one goal, so all the pain and misery of marathon training become secondary in the mind to the thought of race day glory (<-- new band name).  This makes it so much easier to get out the door on a cold morning, or to do that extra lap of sprinting on the track, or to avoid the extra donuts in the teachers' lounge, or to get to sleep early when I want to stay out later.

All told, it's going to be an excellent few months around these parts.

Take us off, Shalane.

One year ago...

... I crushed it at the 2013 Philadelphia Marathon.

November 17, 2013

Months of hard work culminated in a PR of 3:03:05.  All for one goal: Boston.

A year later, both the confirmation e-mail and postcard have arrived, and we are currently 154 days out from the 2015 Boston Marathon.

Made the cut.

But it's kind of weird, if you think about it.  All that hard work really only earned me... more hard work.  Because the race is in the middle of April, the bulk of my training will be during the long, cold winter months here in New Jersey.

Was running Philly last year merely the prologue, with Boston as the main event?  Or was Philly the journey, with Boston as the proverbial icing on the cake, a sweet victory lap?

Yes, I'm excited for Boston, but as the temperature drops and the days get shorter, I can't help but think of the long road ahead of me.  One most likely filled with a lot of snow and ice.

I hope y'all follow along, because I know the next few months are going to be interesting.

Does the Philadelphia Marathon need fixing?

Excellent piece yesterday in the Philadelphia Inquirer by high school friend Jen Miller:

It should be noted that I love the Philly Marathon.  I've run it five times and set a PR every time.  It was my first marathon back in 2005, and my most recent.  I love it for the memories I have, I love it because it is my hometown race, and I love it for its size - big enough to feel special but without the insanity and logistics of races like in New York and Chicago.  So I was unaware that it needed fixing.

But Jen makes some excellent points.  The half and full should be separated and run on separate days. The half was only introduced in 2009 and has since begun to dilute the experience of the full, so it's time to return to the basics and give the full the attention it needs.

Jen also mentions that the race is run out of the Mayor's office, and there is no reason what should be the premiere event of Philly's racing season should not have its own staff and race director.  There is no reason this race should not be selling out well in advance after years of doing so, and when so many marathons around the country continue to do so.

So how can it return to "sell-out shape"?  Concentrate on the runners.

If you want to attract more runners, start with the elites.  The winner of the Philadelphia Marathon receives a mere $3,500.  For comparison, the Houston Marathon, mentioned in the article, doles out $40,000 to its winner.  Money talks, and the more prize money offered, the better the elite field.  With a more varied elite field of high profile runners, including speaking and signing engagements at the expo, it's possible this will energize the middle and back-of-the-packers.

The course could definitely use an upgrade.  There is a little nub around mile 17 that detours across the Falls Bridge, down a hill, hangs a complete 180 in the middle of the street, then back up the hill and across the bridge again.  Completely unnecessary.  And the stretches up and down the Kelly Drive do get pretty lonely (though without the twists and turns of downtown, it does let runners settle into a consistent pace and essentially run on cruise control for a bit).  In order to increase crowd support, they should keep the course in the city's residential areas allowing for easier access to the course.

Finally, runners need better amenities.  I hate finishing the marathon and finding nothing more than a green banana, some pretzels and chicken broth.  Make the finish line a celebration of the marathon itself and give me a reason to stick around.  Provide a post race beer and/or a concert, and I'll hang out around all afternoon.

At the end of the day, I've never run a big city, world class marathon, so it'll be interesting to gain some comparison once I run Boston this spring.

Have you run Philly?  What would you change?