Manchester City Marathon, Manchester NH:
This would be my second marathon of the fall, four weeks on the heels of my previous marathon, and my third ever. Needless to say I was curious to see the effects of limited recovery/retraining time. But mostly, this was a race I was doing because it's relatively local, close enough that I didn't need a hotel room. So, just like the answer to why people climb mount Everest, I did this race because "it's there".
Now, I had planned to run a half two weeks ago, with a buddy of mine (Brick, whom I've mentioned in other race reports), but we were slackers and registration filled too quick
So, after some discussion about finding an alternate race, we decided to do the marathon relay event of this same race, each taking two legs, so essentially each doing a half. (With me concurrently continuing after the first half, to finish the full as well). Unfortunately, just over a week ago, Brick found herself with a bum knee, and had to bow out. So, I reached out to a local running group I sometimes joined. More specifically, when I got a mass-email scheduling upcoming group runs, I shamelessly hijacked the thread and begged people to join my team. I also convinced another friend of mine to join me. Soon enough, we had a new team of four, one of whom had a runner-mom who volunteered as our driver. We were all set. To make it more interesting, I had a minor heel injury (almost certainly a form of PF, but who knows) just over a week ago. To mitigate, I took nearly a full two weeks off running. "Better rested than hurt", right? With that in mind, I knew this wouldn't necessarily be a PR attempt, but if the race is worth doing, you do it however well you can. And it's worth doing, definitely.
So, we met up this morning, and drove down somewhat-together. As we walked towards the starting area, I saw three wish shirts. (If this was you, let me know, I didn't quite catch who you are!) That said, to those three, I apologize for being so quick and scatterbrained
I really am glad to have met you all!
Lining up near the back of the starting area, I happened across the 4:30 (and slowest) pacer, so I shrugged and figured that was as good as anything. I'll point out that my PR is 4:57, so this was at best optimistic, and more likely just foolish, but I sort of knew that. By mile 2, I dropped back a bit from the pacer, but still kept up a slightly faster than recommended pace, for the sake of the relay leg. Just past mile 6, I peeled off my outer shirt, which had the relay bib, to expose my other shirt with my marathon bib. At the transition area, one of my teammates pulled the timing tag off my leg, another took my now unnecessary shirt, and a third high-fived me and sent me on my way. It was very "indy pit crew" feeling, and in a funny way, a really really cool feeling to be a part of a team. I sent them periodic text messages of my milaege markers, in the hopes they'd be able to wait at transition #2, before going to #3. Unfortunately they couldn't (and still they almost didn't make it in time to trans 3), but that was ok.
At mile 12, I saw two ambulances stopped on the side of the road. A few yards later, I'd see why. A volunteer and a police officer were doing all they could to hold up and give water to a lady who appeared barely coherent, and couldn't stand up, much less walk. I said a silent prayer and continued, trying not to be bothered by it. While I totally get the importance of attitude, I realistically wasn't feeling well at this point, not as well as I should have at least. I suspected the back half would be more difficult. Right about here, as I could hear the half-marathon finish, I kinda wished I'd only been doing the half. I'd have been a mid-to-front of pack competitor at that point. But no, in the spirit of my dad "don't do things half-%#$" or my mom "don't start what you don't intend to finish" I was doing the full. Or maybe it was my own personal "cool, let's do another marathon" attitude Whatever the case, I proceeded to the right down an empty "main" street (Elm St actually) amid the screams coming from the other direction. Over the half-point timing mat, and I suddenly found myself on a relatively lonely course. At least 2/3 of the runners were in the half, not the full.
Miles 14 and 15 came relatively easily, still running at a "decent" pace (roughly 11 minute) and walking through water stations. Shortly after 15 was where the trouble started. I'm used to the wall, and in my previous race learned how to content with it. But this was different. I wasn't out of energy, I was sore. My legs were good to run, but my feet were starting to scream. I changed up my stride mechanics a bit, but at the expense of burning a lot more energy to do it. By mile 17 to 18, this wore out as well, and I was now sore and walled. To put it mildly, I was spent. Though I'd kind of already done it, this was the point where I officially stopped caring about pace whatsoever, and cared only about finishing. I was thinking in terms of the 6 hour course time limit, and the kind of pace I'd need. 18 minute miles would have done it, so I knew I was good to go, now to just do it. One foot in front of the other.
I called (yes, called, first time I've ever done that mid-race) our relay driver, to inform the team that I'd be late to the finish. Now, I'll mention that our driver is a 64 year old woman who, back in 84, ran in the olympic trials. She consistently wins her age group, and can put me to shame. I explained the situation, and that I was doing a lot of walking. She asked if I needed anything, or if there was anything they could do to help. I asked only for their patience in waiting for me getting to the finish.
Shortly after this point, I caught up to a now-walker named Jeff. He explained himself as being in his 7th marathon, and normally a roughly 4:30 finisher. He couldn't figure out what happened this time, but he, too, was absolutely done. After some deliberation, we assume it was the heavy hills in the front half of the course, leaving runners tired for the second half. I explained my other ancillary issues that didn't help either. We walked together for a while, until eventually I did some more running. I was doing a run/walk kind of deal for several miles after that, several minutes of one, then the other, just trying to bide my time and get closer to the finish. By mile 23, Jeff caught back up to me and we walked again, and then we ran together for a while, but I had to pull back. At mlie 24 I again caught up to him. The time clocks, which were positioned every two miles, and had once been a helpful aid, were now starting at me and mocking me. I didn't care. Jeff asked me my estimated finish time, as I recalculated after each such clock. We were now looking at about 5:30 or so. At 24.5, he wanted to run again, so we did. Then in the distance, as we approached 25, we saw several people coming towards us. It was my teammates, and our driver, in her running shoes!
"We figured you might need a little encouragement, so we're here to do the last mile with you. Let's do it!"
WOW.
Just WOW.
I walked with them. In a sense, they were pulling me along with them. It was helping. At about 25.8, I could see the second to last turn, and once I did, I took off from them. It was time to run. Time to look good for the three people left at the finish area.
As I ran the now nearly deserted course, I caught the attention of everyone on the streets, and what a feeling it was. Every delivery man, restaurant server, pedestrian, driver, everyone. And they all gave me a hearty cheer as I went by. Passed mile 26 at 5:33:00. With a 10 minute pace for the last .2, I could get in under 5:35. Okay, let's do it. Rounded the final corner at a good pace, then dropped into the finishing sprint, with EVERYTHING I had. The rest of the race had been mostly crap, at least this would be good. And it was. It was done. I got one of those awesome thermal blankets, my medal, and I could still, sort of, walk. The punishment was over. We did it. My teammates, one of whom I'd only met once, two others just for the first time this morning, were now my friends, and they helped me finish. Success. And it was a lot of fun.
Results weren't posted completely, so we still aren't sure of the exact team finishing time, but I understand it was around 3:51. Heck of a job they did! My gun time was just about perfectly at the 5:35 mark, not sure chip time just yet.
So, this was the slowest of my three marathons. In a word, it was a rough performance, but I'm not disappointed. I got to compete, got to the finish, and had a great day with friends. Up next, Goofy... is it nine weeks now? Bring it. I'm ready.
GO! WISH Team GO! 
Sounds like it was fun. What was the shirt? Was there a ghost doing the triathlon on it? 
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