Dan Holmes.com

Note: This entry was originally posted in April of 2007. But has been migrated to the new blog application and timestamped for October to be more easily accessible.

I’m hooked. After running my first marathon - the Country Music Marathon in Nashville on April 28, I am officially hooked. I’ll be running another as soon as I can. I ran it in under four hours - 3:58:14 to be exact. Like many Average-Joe runners, I wanted to crack that magical four hour mark. I made it, and I’m proud of my effort. I never really felt tired. I feel that I ran it slower than I could have, no question, but I’m not arrogant enough to think that it was easy. It wasn’t.

Those of you who run races are well aware that race day is often lots more fun than the training. I’ve experienced that with 5k, 10k and 15k races, but I wasn’t sure what to expect from 26.2 miles. My body was ready, and most importantly my mind was. The distance challenges your mental toughness. It heated up to 83 degrees by the mid-point of the race, and it took some mental toughness and positive attitude to make it, combined with my training.

I felt very, very strong and rested as I approached the 20-mile mark, but I kept worrying that if I made my kick too soon, say at 21 miles or 22 miles, I would collapse. So, I decided to go for it at 24 miles. It was too late. The 83 degree heat took its’ toll and I developed cramps in both calves the last two miles of the race. I had the energy reserves and the mental strength to run all out, but the cramps wouldn’t let me. I was afraid I’d pop something if I pushed, so I trudged along at my 9-minute mile pace. However, I was still very satisfied. I eclipsed the times of a few of my running friends from back in NY, so that pleased me. Maybe I trained harder than I thought.

Three things I learned from my first marathon:

- Don’t listen to what anyone else says, stick with what you trained with and ignore other people’s advice the weekend of the race. While standing in line at the Nashville Convention Center to pick up my bib and chip on Thursday, a woman in front of me asked if it was my first marathon. When I told her it was, she said it was one of the hardest courses to run your first marathon, that it was very hilly, and that the heat was very tough. She seemed shocked I was running that course as my first 26.2 miler. She suggested conservative pacing the first 18 miles to make it through the hills. I admit it worried me a bit. She was running her ninth marathon. I was a rookie, and a little bit nervous. I did. On race day, I kept expecting the hills she talked about. A few came, but they weren’t very big hills at all. At mile #18, I’d heard there was a tough hill that breaks runners every year. I zipped over it and wondered “Was that it?” I had trained in Cooperstown near our home on a rather hilly 6-12 mile out and back. There was a 1/2 mile hill that rose from my driveway that was a killer. After moving to Michigan in mid-training, I trained on Cedar Run Road the last few weeks, and ran a nearly 1 1/2 mile incline that began gradual and then spiked up brutally. More than once I had ran a ten-miler that included that hill and I was left walking a stretch on the way back home. It shook my confidence. But looking back, running those hills made me strong. The hills of Nashville may be unusual for a marathon course, but they were nothing compared to what I had trained on. Several runners that were packed near me for 18 miles, fell back in the later stages. I think my hill training is one reason.

- Hydrate. I drank at nearly every station (about every mile), something I didn’t do all the time on my long training runs. I credit that with helping me stay fresh into the later miles.

- Enjoy the ride. I smiled and waved when I could and thanked volunteers along the way. I think that helped keep my mind occupied, it helped the miles slip by, and it kept me in a good mood. The cheerleaders and bands at nearly every mile were great boosts. Most importantly, I know now just how important the cheering and encouragement is. Especially later in the race, everyone who applauded, cheered, waved, and screamed, gave me a surge of energy. By the finish line, my chest was thrust forward, my arms were pumping, and I couldn’t feel the ground.

A few words about pacing. I had trained for a 8:35 per-mile pace. That works out to about a 3:48:00 marathon. The Nashville Striders running club had pace runners for every time: 3:15, 3:30, 3:45, 4:00, etc. I told myself I would find one of those pace runners in my corral (the CMM uses a wave start) and keep them in my sights. Since it was my first marathon, and I have had problems pacing myself in shorter races, I would lean on the pacer to reign me in.

During the days leading up to the race I flip-flopped between the 3:45 pacer and the 4:00 pacer. One night I was convinced I’d trust my training and go for it - I’d run near the 3:45 pacer. The next day I thought the 4:00 pacer would be better, so I wouldn’t burn out. I’d burnt out in 10k races a few times, even having to walk because I ran the first 4 miles at 7-minute pace. I finally decided that I wanted to be certain I broke the 4-hour mark, and that being a little more conservative would let me accomplish that. I found the 4:00 pace group and ran with them for the first few miles. The pace seemed slow, it was 30 seconds slower than my training. I crept ahead of them at mile #3, and again at mile #6, but I kept aware of where the pace group was and made sure not to rabbit out too far in front of them. At mile #11 I just went ahead and ran, not worrying about them. I felt good. I glided alongside a girl, Nicole, who also had been running the 4:00 pace. we started chatting and she said she’d also trained at a 8:35 mile pace. We decided to stick together and bring each other in weel under 4 hours. Nicole and I ran stride for stride through mile #19, after that hill. Then, she hollered for me to go ahead and “go for it.” I didn’t feel I was running that much faster than our 8:35-8:45 mile pace, but I soon lost sight of her. I continued to feel strong. The miles slipped by. Unfortunately, my watch had broken mid-race and I eventually just tossed it into a trash can with an empty gel packet. But I felt I might finish near 3:50. It was too late. As I mentioned above, I never got tired, but my legs cramped. Plus, my 4:00 pace through the first 11 miles or so was too much to make up, even though I ran the next 7-8 miles 25-30 seconds per-mile faster. That’s a lesson learned. You can’t get back the time you lost running slower at the start of a race. My last 10k was at 9-minute pace. That was to be expected with the cramps and heat. But I feel that had I ran near the 3:45 pace group the whole way, I would have trimmed some minutes off my time. Next time I’ll train for that and target an even faster time, to set a new PR.

In May, the Bayshore Marathon will run out and back on the beautiful peninsula here in Traverse City. It’s sold out and I can’t run it, but maybe I’ll slip onto the road and get a few miles in. A few friends are running it and I want to cheer them on. But I can’t wait to run my next marathon.

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