Race Report: Phoenix Marathon
Last Saturday, I ran the Phoenix Marathon, one of the newer
races in the area. This was my first
time on the course and only the 4th or 5th time total for
the race, and overall, the experience was both good and not so great.
I will admit to being concerned coming into the race,
particularly about the weather. My
training for this run, which began in December or so, was held in the most
beautiful conditions imaginable; I’d start my long runs at 10am or so when the
temps would hit 55, and I’d be home by the time they crested 65 a few hours
later. They’d be in full sun with a
light breeze, and they were glorious. A
few weeks before race day, however, Phoenix set a record for the earliest 90
degree day on record (February 17th for crying out loud!), and while
it wasn’t quite this hot, the unwelcome warmer temps were still hanging around,
eventually topping out at 86 for the day.
I was also somewhat concerned about my endurance for this
race. Normally, I finish at least one 20
mile long run during my training for a marathon, but I bonked during both of my
longest efforts this season, once due to the weather/dehydration and once due
to stomach issues. In this latter
workout, I ended up getting so nauseous around mile 16 of my run that I hiked
to a gas station to buy a can of ginger ale and bag of pretzels; the ginger ale
was a 16 ounce can, so it really looked like I was sipping on something more
adult as I wandered along the trail, getting to the meeting location where
Chris picked me up in the truck (I got some interesting looks from other
runners and bikers along the route). My
run the weekend before the race, which should have been fairly easy for me to
do, ended just after the halfway point with another call to Chris for a pickup
along the road. This was really
frustrating, so I tried to keep myself in a good headspace throughout the week,
recalling all of the work I’ve put in over my years of running marathons. After all, this was my 10th full marathon,
not including the 26.2 miles I ran during the completion of the Elephant
Mountain 50K a few years back.
It’s okay, Amy.
Listen to the calming manatee.
Given these issues, I pretty much abandoned my potential
plan to trying to qualify for Boston at this run, and instead set my sights on
a new Personal Record (PR). My previous
PR, set at the blisteringly hot Long Beach Marathon in October, was 4:09, so I
was really hoping to smash the 4:00 time.
Plans, plans, plans.
Anywhoo, on to race day!
Thankfully, given the heat, the Phoenix Marathon always plans to start
early, around 6:30am, off Usery Pass, on the easternmost side of the city
(actually, the Phoenix Marathon starts in Mesa, ends in Mesa, and runs 100%
through Mesa. It seems improperly branded). No runner drop offs were allowed from
personal cars, so we all met at Mesa Riverview and hopped buses to the start
line. What this meant is that we headed
out from the Olsen homestead around 3:45am (cut to me thanking all that’s holy
that this was a Saturday run, so I could use Sunday to actually sleep). Yeesh.
Marathon number 10!
We got to the parking lot in plenty of time, and Chris bid
me adieu as I hopped on the bus to the start line.
Waiting to board the
bus.
Outside of a Nissan dealership.
While I headed into the farthest reaches of northeast Mesa,
someone took advantage of the bench seat in the back seat of the truck to take
a nap:
Night!
My ride ended up at the start line about an hour before the
race began, so after taking a quick trip to the port o’ loo, I headed back to
the warmth of the bus to wait for the time to get a bit closer, killing the
wait with this week’s copy of Entertainment
Weekly (featuring some lovely shots of next season’s Outlander – not too shabby!).
A half hour before the race was set to go, I finished gearing up,
ditched my warm clothes in my drop bag, and headed to the truck to hand off the
bag. I normally do a warmup run around
this time, but given the HUGE lines for the bathrooms at this point, I instead
threw my lot in with the port o’ crowd.
This was one area where the race could have improved a bit – there
didn’t seem to be enough potties at the start line, and the arrangement of them
caused some confusion as to who was in what line. This is a common issue, particularly if your
start line is a two lane road in the middle of the desert, I suppose.
Ooh, sidebar on the desert bit. Because of the long lines at the loos, some
folks decided to go off-roading into the brush, only to almost all come out
with a few new accessories in the form of pieces of cholla embedded in their
skin. Yeesh. That crap is painful. One lady didn’t recognize it until she got
back on our warm bus and was like, wha?!?!?!
Welcome to Arizona, folks.
Anywhoo, because of the lines, I actually missed starting
with my particular pace group, and I ended up being one of the last 30 or so
folks across the start line. I’ve only
done this one other time, but I wasn’t too stressed; the whole point of having
a timing chip is that it records your time only once you cross the timing mat,
so I knew my time would be accurate, regardless of where I started. It was also kind of fun starting near the
back where all the interesting people are – folks pushing wheelchairs, folks
carrying flags, folks generally enjoying their day and not worrying about pace
too much.
The weather at the start line was lovely for running – clear
and calm with temps around 52 or so – just perfect, and I was having a great
time just stretching out my legs and clocking a decent pace (around 8:15 or so)
as I was catching up to my pace buddies farther up in the pack. I passed the 4:45 pacer, then a bit later,
the 4:15 pacer. I thought it was a bit
odd that the race only had pacers in 30 minute increments, but then I passed the
4:25 pacer, and then, the 4:05 one; seems like somebody wasn’t hitting their
expected splits, although I’m not quite sure who it was. Eventually, I caught up with the 3:55 pacer,
so I was essentially where I wanted to be, overall time-wise, and I was still
feeling good.
It helped that the first half of the course was mainly
downhill, with one gradual hill rising up between miles 5 and 6, and I was
maintaining a decent speed for me. At
mile 8 or so, I saw Chris at his first spectator spot, and he very kindly took
my gloves, as the day had warmed up enough for them to no longer be an asset.
Smiling and happy at
mile 8.
I told him goodbye and continued onward, enjoying the
scenery, the cool weather, and the spectators along the route. The volunteers were great in this race, and
the aid stations seemed to be well stocked and running efficiently each time I
went through one; they were all themed, and although several of them seemed to
pick Star Wars (seriously, lots of Star Wars), they were each having a huge
amount of fun.
I hit the halfway point of the race still doing well,
although I was starting to have a few side cramps, particularly when I’d hit an
incline in the course. Overall, though,
I was able to breathe through any issues and keep up my pace. As I crossed under the arch that signified
the start of the half marathon course (the race ran a marathon, half marathon,
and 10K all along the same course that all started at the same time), I was
pleased to see that I’d set a new half marathon PR for myself, 1:48:51, a full
four minutes faster than my previous 13.1 PR set at the Gilbert Half Marathon
in 2014.
A few miles later, I saw Coach Luis and his daughter Mila,
around mile 15 or so. I was still on pace to qualify for Boston at that time,
so I waved hello to them and then, in very close sequence, goodbye, as I
continued on.
“Hi Coach! Bye Coach!”
Unfortunately, around mile 17 or so, the wheels started to
come off this party bus. My side
cramping intensified, and instead of feeling like side cramping I could handle
through proper breathing, it started to feel internal, like stomach
cramping. Over the past few weeks, I’d
been trying out some new gel options, and they didn’t seem to be agreeing with
me. I had a quick stop in a port o’, and
while that helped relieve things for a small while, eventually, the cramping
came back in earnest. On top of that,
around mile 18, my legs started cramping as well, something that doesn’t
normally happen to me in races or long runs.
At mile 19, I saw Chris, Coach, and Mila again, as well as
our friends, Eric (my boss at work) and Laura (his wife), and their two kiddos,
Harvey and Oscar. It was great seeing my
support crew, and that kept me moving forward a bit further, but by mile 20, I
knew it was time to call it quits.
A shot from mile 19.
Ooh, head down staring at the feet.
Never a good sign.
By this point, my overall pace had risen to 8:40 or so, and
I could barely lift my legs to even shuffle along above a walk. I knew that if I wanted to finish this thing,
I would have to do so at a leisurely stroll, and if that was the case, I’d end
up having to suffer through at least another hour to hour and a half on the
course; I wouldn’t even come close to beating my previous time. It was around 9:30am at this point, and the
temperature was already nearing 70; things were heating up fast. I tried to take another gel only to find my
stomach violently rejecting anything I tried to put into it, and I shuffled
over to a few police officers on the course.
Through their help and the assistance of a spectator on the course, I borrowed
a phone and called Chris, knowing that he was driving from the mile 19 location
to the finish line. We planned to meet
up at a nearby intersection, and I started shuffling that way.
After a short time, we found each other, and we headed to
finish line, as I still had to pick up my drop bag from the start line. I changed into some cleaner clothes and just
to ensure the entire event wasn’t a waste, made sure I got my picture taken
with the fire engine on site.
Well, at least there’s
that.
Overall, I’m bummed I couldn’t finish, but after a few days
of pondering the situation, I think I made the right call. My body was more beat up after 20 miles in
this race than it’s been for a few years running marathons (Chris had to help
me off the couch on Sunday – yes, really), so had I finished the remaining
distance, I think I really would have made myself sick. I think the combination of pushing myself
hard for the first half of the race (on a primarily downhill section of the
course), taking new gels that may not be the best for me, not carrying my own
water and relying on aid stations that were 2 miles apart, and the heat just
didn’t set up the day for success. Oh
well. Every race offers valuable lessons
for next time, right?
Later!
Amy
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