Houston, Peace, And Salt

On December 2010 I saw a Marathon Olympic Trials ad. The trials were scheduled in Houston on January 2012. Houston Marathon would be the following day. I told to my daughter Ale: I got to go… And I did.

I set a big PR as a goal, 15 min or so, for a 4:30. I was training hard but I had too much work that limited my training, There were weeks with 60 + hours. Also, my family came from overseas, and to spend time with them was my priority. Though I got up at 3:30 am to run and be able to spend the afternoons with them, my training was not the same. I did a couple of 20 milers, some other long runs, but not as much as I was planning to. Heck, there will be other marathons to get that goal.

On Friday 01/13 I flew to Houston. I registered in my hotel (1.6 miles from start/finish area, the closest I could find) and went walking to the expo. The atmosphere around the Convention Center, the Hilton, and Discovery Green was dazzling. It was festive, joyful and you could only breath “excitement”. After getting my packet, and looking around, I went to the park across the street for the Olympic Trials Opening Ceremony. Got the great opportunity to see Meb Keflezighi, Deena Kastor, Bill Rodgers, Joan Benoit Samuelson and Frank Shorter. The ceremony started with the athletes parade and then a recognition to Deena, Meb, Joan and Frank, all Marathon Olympic Medalists. After the recognition, there was a beautiful and fantastic display of fireworks that made the night as shiny as could be.

 

After the ceremony I went to my hotel, had dinner and went to bed early. The trials were scheduled at 8 am the following morning. I wanted to be in first row, so my plan was to get there at 6 am.

There were some of the trials runners in my hotel. I had breakfast with Deena Kastor’s in laws, and shared some running stories. There was no need to walk at this hour to the convention center, especially when a cab is so cheap (US$ 6.00). I shared a cab with Deena’s in laws, and one female Olympic Trials Qualifier and her husband.

I got a great spot, and chatted with a bunch of people. The atmosphere was simply grand, and of course, contagious.

The trials course was an initial loop of 2.2 miles, and then 3 loops of 8 miles. This gave us the fantastic opportunity to watch the runners 4 times. It was a delight. Men started at 8:00 and women at 8:15. My favorite for the US Olympic Team were: Ryan Hall, Meb Keflezighi and Dathan Ritzenhein “Ritz”, and for the women’s team: Desiree Davila, Shalane Flanagan, and Deena Kastor.  I lost my voice cheering for them and took as many pictures I could take.

To all my marathon runners friends, taking part of the Marathon Olympic Trials is worth of experiencing. Put it in your calendars for 2016. !!!

After the trials, I hung out with some “bleachers companion” and went back to my hotel around noon. Plan was to rest, take a nap, and do nothing, and nothing. And I did. Had lunch, took a nap, got up, got all my gear ready, had a snack, fell asleep, got up, took a shower, had dinner, went to bed, and continued sleeping.

On marathon day I got up at 4, got ready, had a muffin, a banana, water, checked out the hotel, and took a cab to the convention center. I checked my clothes, took my weight (135 lbs), and while going to the porta pottie, I remembered a very curious question in the FAQ Marathon site: Will there be a church service before the race? Yes, Catholic Mass in Hall C and Protestant Church services in Hall B will begin at 5:30 a.m. 

I was very surprised, because the way this country is going, just mentioning the word “religion” has become in some circles, even politically incorrect. One of these days it will become the “R” word.

I have had big issues with the Catholic Church, and organized religion in general, and in some way, I have broken with it. This break had been very difficult for a hard core Catholic, but a "race mass" was an opportunity to taste the waters (my waters), so I decided to go in. It was difficult. Just the gathering was inspiring. The song that the choir was singing when I entered in Hall C, was a very mellow rock melody, with spiritual lyrics that I have sung since a teen, and my kids have sung in their school's masses as well. The waters moved violently. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I lost it and I cried. My thoughts were diverted to what are the real teachings here.  Simply be good, share, and do good. And that was the learning that I had all my life from that man that was good, shared, and did good; a man that, we Christians, have always called a friend; a friend that I have dismissed for the last 3 years, simply because my life demanded a different explanation. And then, I took communion as a symbol of peace. I made peace with a friend. Hey JC, JC won't you smile at me?

After Mass I went to a long porta pottie line lost in my thoughts. Weird in me, I didn’t even feel like talking to anybody. Then, to my corral, national anthem, a prayer, corrals started moving, disposable clothes are removed, crossed myself and there I went.

I went, of course, by heart rate, and ran focusing in just a mile at a time. The first half was pretty good. It flew by, the course was flat and easy. I caught up with the 4:30 pacer and stuck with her for a couple of miles until I started feeling fatigued. I needed salt. As a heavy salty sweater, I always carry with me 2 small packages when running a marathon. This time, it was not in my radar, I don’t know why. Around mile 17 or so I asked the medical tent if they had salt. They didn’t but they had pretzels. I licked them but couldn’t eat them. My mouth was too dry, and I had just passed the water station. At mile 19 I got to shake hands with Mr. President George H. Bush (41). At mile 20 or so, I needed salt very badly but the medical tent didn't have packets but pretzels. I got the pretzels and licked them, though couldn't eat them. I felt hot and had to pour water on my face at every aid station. I was getting slower, and slower, At mile 24 I got weird cramps in both quads in the same place, mirroring each other, and that was a sign to me that something weird was going on. I reduced my pace to a slow jog and after half mile the cramps were gone. My legs and heart wanted to run but my fatigue level was absolute. When I saw mile 25 and downtown skyscrapers I knew I had made it. One mile to go, though slow, it went fast. I could sprint my final stretch, and felt really good when crossing the finish line. But, as they took my weight after the race the medical team found out that I had gained almost one pound, what definitely was the sign of the body not releasing water. I didn't feel bad but got blood tested, and my sodium levels were low. I did have hyponatremia. This was my 8th marathon and first time I get physiological issues. I felt hot because I was not sweating. I over drank water. I was sent to triage for one hour, and got a new experience. 

This marathon was neither my personal best, nor the big PR that I was hoping so, but the weekend experience, with the Olympic trials and learning that I am a very easy candidate for hyponatremia was a very good thing. I am thankful for my finish (4:56) and for not getting in worse conditions.

From the convention center I went to the airport and after flying for 4 hours I got to a white town, covered with snow. A snowstorm that had us under snow and ice for a week. I ran just few miles here and there and decided to take a 2-week break before starting my training for next marathon: Big Sur, CA. Not an easy one.

An exciting experience: Houston, Peace, And Salt.

A Daughter To Thank

My daughter went to live to New Zealand in February this year as a result of a thrown dart. As she well said: Mom is her lovely, supportive self, [who] just wants me to leave already so she can come visit.  And truly, my visit plans started right away, with flight ticket fares research, places to visit and New Zealand running calendar in hand… because my visit needed to include, ahem, a race.

Daughter and I waited for her to be settled to determine which city in NZ would be the “base camp”. By June, she had gotten a job (to start in August) in Dunedin with the Rugby World Cup. Between those months she would work for the same company in the capital, Wellington.

Checking Ale’s and Rugby World Cup schedules, and NZ running calendar, we decided that I would visit her in Dunedin. Dunedin was hosting several world cup games, it had the Moro Marathon scheduled on 9/11 and it's relatively close to glaciers, beaches and beautiful towns with gorgeous lakes. My trip dates: 8/26 to 9/14.

The countdown for the trip was exciting. First, I was going to be with my beautiful daughter. Second, I have never been in the South Hemisphere, let alone, so far South, at the bottom of the world..

After 24 hours of flights and layovers, and crossing the international date line, I arrived to NZ on August 28. We rented a car, El Cheapo, and hit the road. We had scheduled for the first week to drive around 1,000 miles (1,600Km). The details of the trip will be a different post and the story will be told with pictures; easier that way. The marathon was a bonus of our vacation. Our plans of going “places” were not going to be altered because I needed to taper, rest, or whatever. That marathon happened to be scheduled 3 days before leaving NZ, and I wanted to do it only for the experience of running in another country, in another continent, and almost in another planet. I was not going to expect a PR, fame or glory.

Two days after my arrival we went to Franz Josef Glacier and did a full day strenuous hike, which is one of the best things I’ve done in my life. My knees felt it and though I was not too concerned I kinda (just kinda) whined everyday. Ale, my knees hurt. Ale, my knees hurt. She just had to roll her eyes and be patient with Dear Mom.

The whole vacation was more than fantastic. We went to ski towns, to various lakes, to the Tasman Sea (cold!!!) and did short hikes. Back in Dunedin we walked it ALL. We visited the Otago Museum; the Museum of Art; all Victorian and Edwardian architecture buildings; the Farmers Market; a cozy quasi-private concert with Matt Langley, a local Musician with a spectacular voice and enormous talent. We went to the movies, to the England-Argentina game hosted by Dunedin, and to the bars to watch the games hosted by other NZ cities.

On Friday 9/9 we went to pick up my packet at the Otago Polytechnic: a long line for half-marathoners, and a very short, almost non-existent line for marathoners. As I received my packet I was told that the local press wanted to interview me. I was puzzled. The journalist was not available and they scheduled the interview on Sat. The press interest was about the significance of Americans running a race on 9/11. I was certainly touched as I did not expect that. The interview was very spontaneous, and we talked for long about the infamous day and what meant to me from that day till present. Then we talked about running.

On Sunday we needed to go to where packet pick up was to take a shuttle to go to the start, available only for runners. Ale and I woke up around 5 am, and walked about a mile. As the England-Argentina game was the night before, we found drunken people still walking around with their country flags tied around their necks. Porta potties vandalized by, of course, those drunkards, made the dark walk interesting and funny.

The marathon course is point to point, starting on Harington Point (Albatross Colony) and ending in Port Chalmers, sort of an italic U course. I asked one of the organizers about the windy conditions (the week before we were at Harington Point and the winds were in the 80 mph range).  He told me that going SW is not bad, there is some elevation that protects from NE winds, "but the problem would be when we turn West and then North not only because the cross and headwinds, but because we are tired". I dismissed the comment, as I was planning to run by effort and I was definitely going to be stronger at that turn. I just thought!!!!

There were 3 shuttles that would leave every 5 minutes between 6:15 to 6:30 am. I got into the second shuttle. Ale hugged me tight and wished me the best, though whatever I do, is good for her. She always tells me she is very proud of what I do and have accomplished. 

The drive was about half hour and I talked with a guy (go figure) the whole ride. His take was that at his age he only cares about finishing. Though he is a 3:30 kind of marathoner he doesn’t put pressure on time anymore. I agreed with him, but sub-consciously (or consciously?) I have already set a PR in my head - 4:35 - just because I think I could do it. Bad deal. The shuttle took us to the Albatross Colony for a nice bathroom stop of about 15 minutes. As the shuttles were staggered, there were no problems with the bathroom lines. Then, the shuttle took us about 2 Km down to the start line where there were about 4 porta-potties and the van for gear check. Temperature was 50F, feeling 45 with the wind chill factor. I had chance to pee AGAIN, of course, and though I had thrown away clothes, these were not necessary. The van was simply aligned with the start line, so we could keep ourselves warm till the very last minute, and before putting the gear bag in the van.

We began our 26.2 journey running on the right side of the road, facing traffic (in NZ the driving is on the left, steering wheel on the right). 

I set my heart in low rate, and settled at the back of the pack. This was a small marathon with 200 registrants, and a 5-hour limit, so I’d assume from the beginning I’d be in that back position. There was only one guy behind me (Camel Pack Guy) and 7 runners clustered about 30 seconds ahead of me. I called them “The Seven”. The leader of team seven was a gal or guy All-in-Black (he or she was further away and I couldn’t identified gender). Second in that pack was Red Guy, and then, third was “The 5” all together.

At Km 2 I was hot already, tossed the arm warmers and took the gloves off. Camel Pack guy, the guy behind me, passed me and I became the last of the Mohicans. The weird sensation I had was every time I heard a car behind me I thought it was coming close to me, not realizing that those cars were driving on the left. I felt throughout all the race I was running on the wrong side of the road. However I felt safe as the official race car was behind me. My pace was 10 min/mile. I knew that I’d catch up with The Seven.

I had water at the 5K mark (water provided every 5K) and kept going without losing sight of the group. I kept them within close distance for the first 10K when I was planning to increase the heart rate.  At the 10K mark I was ready to pick up the pace. I passed 6 of The Seven, with the exception of the All-in-Black. That runner just took off. Soon after, Red Guy asked me where from America I was (I had an American flag), and after telling “Washington State” he said goodbye and with a sort of springs on his feet, he left running smoking fast. There was a small turn around the harbor and I saw how both, All-in-Black and Red Guy, simply disappeared.

From the other five, there was a gal, Blue Gal, that started to separate from the rest of the group. She was on my toes, and passed me. She had a whole crew cheering her on. Her husband, boyfriend, fiancée, or whatever was following her on a bike, and giving her dried fruits or something. Her crew was driving ahead, stopping and cheering. I knew how close she was when I saw this entire thing happening. She passed me in some spots, and I passed her in others, me keeping the lead most of the times. When we got to a hill, I believe before Portobello, I knew that she was mine. I passed her easily as she slowed down.

At Km 20 I discerned the stadium where my daughter works and the game was the night before. I felt the satisfaction of getting closer. At the half distance I was in 2:20 and I felt that I would be able to have negative splits. I was feeling really good, until...  we turned west. The NE wind that hasn’t been anywhere but behind hills, hit the harbor to provide nothing but crosswinds of 40mph. It was very hard to run. For my surprise, Blue Gal passed me as if the wind was not with her. She galloped and she chewed me completely. She flew away, and I never saw her again. I wondered how she could battle the wind with such strength: hats off to Blue Gal. At the 25K water station I was feeling dizzy. I combated the wind with all I had and was not feeling good now. And to add, four of the five were right behind me. How did this happen, I have no idea. After water, we hit the road and I tried to stick with them, but I was struggling with the wind. I was not able to follow their pace. Now, The Seven minus one were ahead of me. About the 30K mark we joined the Half Marathon walkers. We headed North towards Port Chalmers having now headwinds. Surprise: I caught up with Red Guy. What in the heck is he doing here? Shockingly, I also came across All-in-Black, who had left the whole bunch in the dust 25K ago. Yes, I know the story. You fly and die later. By the way, All-in-Black was a girl.

I started to feel really dehydrated, and overheated. I had more clothes that I wanted to have, but decided not to remove a layer. Red Guy offered me water and stuck with me. At 35K I was simply dying. The wind was consuming me and I had nothing left. The volunteers at the water station were surprised seeing me pouring cups and cups of water over my head. One guy offered me to pour a whole pitcher, and I said: please baptize me!. He did and I felt so refreshed.

Red Guy was very nice and talkative. He said: We are not going to win, so I think we can go easy. But easy had become very hard for me. I tried to picture only 7K left, that is nothing, 4.3 miles. And there was a hill, and wind, and traffic, and I wanted to get done. Finally, I saw the crowd and my beautiful daughter before the finish line. I crossed it without my famous final sprint. I was dead finishing at 5:02. I hugged my daughter, and told her: this was hard!!! Red Guy crossed the finish lines some seconds behind me, and I had the opportunity of thanking him for helping me finish the last 12K. (8 miles). His name, Paul Cobby.

9/11 - For all of YOU

Dead Me

Red-Guy

We took the race shuttle back to Dunedin, and from the University drop-off we walked one mile back home. After taking a shower, daughter and I took a 2 ½ hour nap. Boy, it felt good. Then, rugby games to watch, homeland USA team to cheer on, beers to drink, roasted pork to devour,  and for all this, and the most fantastic vacation, A Daughter To Thank. 

Moro Marathon didn't give medals, but my sweet daughter did this for me!!!

 

All Kind Of Marathon Goals Handy

As a running geek, I know all marathon race prediction tables that are available. From my coach’s Chuckit, to running times, to runner’s world, to McMillan, to Marathon Guide, to Rogue.

For four years all my races in every distance have been right on with McMillan, give or take. When I was introduced to Chuck’s, I thought his was too conservative. Well, that happened to be good. Putting all my latest races results, 2-mile trials and tribulations, these were all the predictions I got for my 6^th marathon, my 5^th state (Idaho) in the pursuit of my 50/50 quest:

Table	Based on Half Marathon	Based on 2-mile trial
Chuck	4:45	4:39
Running Times	4:36	4:20
McMillan	4:34	4:23
Rogue	4:34	4:23
Marathon Guide	4:32	-
Runner’s World	4:31	-
Run Works	4:27	4:11

I decided to base my Coeur D’Alene Marathon goal on Half Marathon results instead of the 2-mile trial. Reason is that I am a good sprinter and perform way better in shorter distances; therefore, the Half distance would be more accurate for me.

• My “can live with this goal” was 4:45.
• My realistic goal and the one I was sure I was going to get was 4:32.
• My fantastic goal was 4:27.
• My beyond dreams goal was a BQ, 4:15:59. Though it sounded crazy, if one predictor, based on a 2-mile trial made this goal still within range of possibilities, then I can dream about it.

To spare you a lot of reading I finished on 4:44. Am I happy? Yes, I got a PR by 15 min and was the goal I can live with. Am I thrilled? No. I was sure I could get a 4:30ish, and the race indicated I was going to get it.

The weather forecast by mid race was mid 40’s and rain; perfect for a Seattleite. But as any weather forecast, it changed the day before. Now it was going to be low 50’s by mid race and sunny with 10mph tailwinds for the first half; 13mph headwinds the second.

For first time ever I ran a very consistent pace for the first 9 miles. 10:00 min/mile sharp. This would put me in a 2:11 Half, and right on in a 4:30ish finish if I slowed down, or a sub 4:30 if things continued smooth. Well, neither. At mile 11 we got this already known long 6% gradient hill. It looked horrible when I drove it the day I got there, but no so horrible when I climbed it. Now we had to go downhill to lake level to climb this very hill after the turn around. At mid point I was in 2:14 and felt very good but very hot. It was 51F but the sun was s-h-i-n-i-n-g !!!! After the turnaround, at mile 14, I felt this delicious wind on my face as my private fan… Oh, wait. That means the forecast about the wind was right… The next miles were the introduction to a total new race: Running against the wind… for 12 miles.

Mile 18 is for me the mile to beat. If I pass it in good shape, I know I will be OK. I got there at 3:12 and I have already climbed back to the crest of the non-so-horrible hill that became horrendous. Back to lake level… the rest is flat. I felt good and thought the plan was still achievable. Did some math in my head, and realized that I would have to do a 10 min/mile for the rest of the race to get my goal. Thought of a Venezuelan guy that ran a sub-3 Boston this year and told me: It has to hurt. Ok. Hurt, pain, I am here to take you. Come on… Well, no. Not this time. The wind will not let me.  It’s noteworthy to say that I have run with worse winds, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that this time, this wind was IN the way of a fantastic performance!!!

According to Bob Glover's Runner's Handbook, "A 10 mph head wind will slow your forward progress by about 8 percent.  A 10 mph tailwind will push you along by about 5 percent faster. A head wind slows you more than a tailwind helps you…

Being that said and proven, nothing was left than trying not to go beyond 4:45. Mile 19 to 22 were the worst of all. I was feeling dehydrated (clueless on how this happened to me being the water-drinker I am). At mile 23, the 5K distance looked appealing and I pushed the pace to leave on the course everything I had. I gave it all...

At 4:44:04 I crossed the finish line. I placed 10 out of 24 in my division. A PR by 15 minutes. I conquered Idaho, my 5th state. 45 to go!!!!

Chuck won the predictions... and it was definitely good to have All Kind Of Marathon Goals Handy.

With running buddy Suzanne

With running buddy Shannon

About to puke after crossing the finish line

At Outback ready to attack a piece of steak

Hitting A Triple

My 50 marathons in 50 states quest has officially started. I ran WA ('07 & '08), OR ('10), and NY ('10) as marathons I wanted to do, but after NY, I made the decision of my 50/50 mission; a mission that may take me 10 years, but I am committed to do it. And when I commit, I do.

Arizona, 8 weeks from NY, was the guinea pig to determine if Hal Higdon's eight-week plan between marathons could work for me. I have to confess that I was a total slacker during the eight weeks. I ran a total of 107 miles, for a 13 miles per week, and the low mileage was not due to illness, or too much work, or some "acceptable" excuse. The reason was laziness. Though AZ results would tell me how capable I would be of pulling off a marathon in 8 weeks, the lack of training put me in the verge of a nervous breakdown. The only thing that kept me confident was that I had covered all long runs including the 20-miler.

I traveled on Friday night with fellow runners Shannon and Susan to conquer my 4th state which would be run through Phoenix, Scottsdale and Tempe. Our flight was uneventful, our hotel cozy and everything was simply perfect. Saturday morning was dedicated to the Expo, and after that, I went back to my hotel to do what I do the day before a marathon: nothing.

My dear friend Gina, from college times in Venezuela, and who lives in Tempe, picked me up for the carboload dinner. She immediately declared herself my personal agent who would take care of me, pick me up at 6 am to go to the race, and spoil me after the race (Shannon and Susan were running the Half which had different start times). Gina drove me through the area, I enjoyed the vegetation and mountains which are of course, so different than my Pacific Northwest (PNW) mountains and vegetation.

Dinner was as delicious as Buca Di Beppo food can be (I am a fan of this franchise). Plenty of food, tons of conversations about our college times, and catching up with life.

On morning race, Gina showed up at 5:50 am and took me to the start line. Temperature was in 47F/8C and expected to climb to 60F/15C by my finish time. I was a little bit concerned about the heat, but it seemed a manageable temperature. I wandered around to feel the Rock and Roll atmosphere, visited the porta-potties a couple of times, and got ready for the 7:40 start.

The course in general was nothing special and the crowd to cheer runners up was nonexistent. Residential areas were pretty and I enjoyed a lot the architecture and home landscaping, but I would loved the race going throughout the desert, at least for some miles, to have the opportunity to run around Southwest nature. Instead, we ran around strip malls.

I was very comfortable the first half of the race. At this point, the temperature was at 55F/13C which was perfect due to the dry atmosphere.  When I run in WA, in a cold but sunny day I have to pour water on my head, but in AZ I never felt hot though it was sunny and in high 50's. At mile 16 I started to fall apart, and I thought I was going to be in trouble, but some magic happened. At mile 18 I stuck behind a couple running at 10:45 - 11:10 min/mile. I ran the whole mile behind them at that pace, and felt great. I grabbed water at mile 19 and passed them to continue at a good pace. At mile 20 I had the indication that I could PR and sent a command, bring it on.

The last 10K were great. Thinking on the 20-miler I did with my daughter, I put all my thoughts and energy in one, and only one mile at a time. When I got to mile 25 I saw the 5 hr pacer; then I knew that, not only I had a PR, but that I had the chance to break 5. I sped up and the pace went from 11:20ish to 10:50 for the last mile.

At mile 26.2 I saw myself achieving three things: finishing; PRing and breaking a mark. In short, I saw myself Hitting A Triple. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PR by 7 minutes and breaking 5 hours

With my kids at SEATAC

With fellow runners, Shannon and Susan

The route: Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tempe

  

With my personal agent Gina the night before the race

Eggplant Parmigiana for after the race!!!

The Best Of Times Is Now

Marathon Plan - Regressive Countdown - The Week
11/01/10 - 11/07/10 - Week Total: 26.2

I registered for the New York City Marathon, NYCM, with the thought that I would not get in. I really didn't want to run two marathons this year, and Eugene, May 2010, was the chosen one.

Lottery day on April and I'm in. What were the odds? With a bone bruise and a 3-month resting period ahead of me I was concern on how the training would go for NY. Surprisingly, it went well. I purposely under-trained, but I knew that I was ready for the race. More important, it would be an opportunity to spend the best of times with my daughter who would fly from DR to NY for the race. I hadn't seen her for more than a year.

Pre-race time: Caught a red-eye from Seattle to New York on Wed 03rd; went to Brooklyn to pick up my daughter; checked in at the Grand Hyatt at 42nd; expo on Friday; got bib and D-tag; my shirt with my name on; met Dathan Ritzenhein, former 5000m American record holder; met Tyson Gay, current 100m American record holder; did nothing on Saturday but a manicure with daughter; carboloaded at Carmine's.

Race day: Up at 6 am; dressed with my beautiful Americana outfit; breakfast two cups of coffee and two bananas; a very cold but sunny morning with 15 mph wind; at 7 am a NY yellow cab to Staten Island ferry terminal; a ferry ride with daughter to Staten Island; a kiss to daughter and goodbye. Bus shuttle ride to the start area; nice chat with Douglas, a local runner; clothes to the UPS truck; porta potty; getting into my corral; more talking with more runners; porta potty INSIDE the corral (this was wonderful); moving forward; getting to the start line; God Bless America song; New York, New York by Frank Sinatra; tears in my eyes remembering my dad playing this song in piano; warmy and disposable fleece sweater and fleece/windbreaker pants are removed; ready, set, go!!!

The Race:

Staten Island, Verrazano bridge, crossing The Narrows, a tidal strait separating the boroughs of Staten Island and Brooklyn. A very steep uphill (150 ft elevation in 3/4 of miles), manageable due to the enthusiasm of the start and the thousands of people running at my side... this makes me forget the hill. Then a steep and longer downhill (200 ft decline in a whole mile); a slight hill-related pain at the bottom of my left leg. Verrazano is over, so is the leg pain.

Brooklyn at mile 2, suddenly after crossing the Verrazano I see THE CROWD. I couldn't believe it, hundreds of hundreds of NY people cheering for us. With my name on my shirt the only thing I heard was: Go Lizzie; You can do it Lizzie; You're looking good Lizzie; Lizzie, you're awesome; Lizzie bring it on. Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie; An old lady yelled: Lizzie, you look great, kid (that sounded terrific); Lizzie, stars and stripes, baby; Lizzie, go USA. ....Mile after mile after mile I felt like the star of the stars and only due to the amazing crowd. How does a race like that go bad? Impossible. 

Queens at half point. Mile 13 and the crowd continues, and between bands of music Lizzie, Lizzie is the only thing I hear. I lost my left glove when having my GU and this was bad, it was very cold, low 40's with chill factor - gusts up to 25 mph. Entered in Queensboro Bridge crossing the East River. Same elevation gain as the Verrazano (150 ft elevation in 3/4 of mile) with the slightly difference that I have 15 miles in my system. This was the toughest portion of the race. As we are "inside" a bridge, there is no crowd, the only thing to hear is the difficult breathing of all runners, including mine. Downhill is not as hard as the Verrazano, 150 ft decline in 3/4 of miles. 

Manhattan, at mile 16 with all its glory. 1st Avenue, My, Oh My. The crowd goes crazy and so I go. One of my best miles. I ran like if it was the start of the race. I felt obliged to "my" fans. More Lizzie, Lizzie, way to do it, Lizzie. You are there Lizzie; Lizzie, you are almost there!!! I wanted to cry, it was unbelievable.

Bronx, mile 19, crossing Harlem River on Willis Avenue Bridge, a concrete bridge AND my legs could feel it. The crowd is thinning out but still supporting. Music, and more music. I feel great. I have only a 10K ahead of me.

Back in Manhattan, mile 21, Harlem, with amazing type of Gospel choirs. Spirit lifting. At mile 22 I heard a couple of kids saying: Run mommy, run... looked up and saw a video in a big screen: two kids cheering for their mom... Immediately, the unexpected: MY DAUGHTER was on the big screen, on a video she recorded at the expo: Mom, I love you. Te amo cero (*), and a banner saying MUMI !!! I cried. Pointing at the screen I told everybody: That's my daughter. What were the odds of passing by the screen when they were showing my daughter's video? That was fuel for the 4 miles to go. Fifth avenue was amazing, more Lizzie, Lizzie, you have already won. Lizzie, a couple of miles to go. Lizzie you did it. Bordered Central Park before mile 23 and I am only waiting for the one-mile hill that everybody talks about. Never saw it. Never felt it. It's not hilly for a Seattleite (50 ft gain in one mile). Mile 24, entered in Central Park. It's packed with fans. I felt so good, never tired. Fans moved me forward. At mile 25.5 in front of the Plaza Hotel we turned west to finish the race. Again, the unexpected. I heard: MUMI... and my daughter was there, first row. I hugged her tight and kissed her. Her cheeks were cold, her hug was warm. More fuel for my last 0.7 miles. Lizzie, you got it. 800 meters, then 400 meters. I slowed down, and a guy cried: Lizzie, DON'T!!! and I ran to the finish line, crossed it, kissed the ground, got my gorgeous medal and conquered New York. 

I got interviewed and had the opportunity to be thankful to whom really deserved it: the NY crowd " I heard my name about 100 times per mile, for a total of 2,600 times, that was simply amazing. The best marathon experience I've had so far, thanks exclusively to the NY people".

Post-Race:
I walked about 3 miles after the race. We, runners, walked about one-hour going North, before leaving Central Park. Met daughter at Columbus w/77th. The streets were full of marathon runners walking towards downtown covered with heat blankets. I was warm with the blankets and my hand heaters. Got into a Starbucks that happened to be full of Venezuelans...what are the odds?  Changed clothes; got a hot cappuccino; ate deli-snacks that Ale brought for me; chatted for more than one hour with fellow runners; left to meet HildaT, elementary/high school class mate (she flew to NY as her daughter also ran NYCM); went dinner with her and our daughters; wine on the house due to our gorgeous medals around our necks.

The best of times is now. What's left of Summer but a faded rose? The best of times is now. As for tomorrow, well, who knows? So hold this moment fast, and live and love, as hard as you know how. And make this moment last because the best of times is now.

Now, not some forgotten yesterday. Now, tomorrow is too far away. So hold this moment fast, and live and love, as hard as you know how. And make this moment last, because The Best Of Times Is Now.

With elementary/high school class mate Hilda Machado who went to NY to cheer for her daughter Adriana. Adriana ran a fantastic 4:17 race.

 (*) The amo cero: I love you zero. My dad used to tell that to my daughter when she was little. She, after hearing that always had a pouting face. Then my dad said: Zero not as in the number, but as in round, as the whole world. I love you the whole world. Then she smiled.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PS: If you are going to run New York City Marathon, you need to do two things in this order:

1) Have a shirt with your name on
2) Train for a marathon
3) No Ipod. Not necessary AT ALL... 

Love you ALL!!!!

I Ran In The Footsteps Of Legends

Marathon Plan - Regressive Countdown - THE WEEK
04/26/10 - 05/02/10 - Week Total: 26.2

On December while planning my 2010 running goals, I decided to have another suitcase in another hall. Training with a different plan, in a different season, in a different state. The only two marathons I’d done at the time were in Seattle, in the fall, with a 16-week Furman plan.

Portland was a convenient one, but happens to be also in the fall. Eugene looked more attractive just by the fact that I have family there that I have wanted to visit for years. It was scheduled in May with a great catch for 2010: finishing at Hayward Field. Without thinking I registered in a spring marathon, in a different state, with a different plan (after one month I ended with Furman … that’s me!!!).

The training season went well, though I got overtrained by week ten, six weeks before the marathon. I did something totally out of Furman plan, and paid the consequences. Fortunately, I recovered pretty good backing off for two weeks, not running but the long runs on the weekend.

I did a lot of “motivational” training, renting once a week a running movie or documentary that kept me on the hook and with a high level of mojo. Spirit of the Marathon (Chicago marathon); Ultramarathon man (Dean Karnazes); Prefontaine; Saint Ralph; Marathon Challenge; Running on the Sun (Badwater 135 miles); Run For Your Life (NY Marathon Story); The Long Run (Comrades Marathon) were among the great movies that continued inspiring me week after week. (All HIGHLY recommended).

Then I got injured three weeks prior the marathon by a stupid action of yours truly, but was lucky enough to recover during the 3 weeks. This recovery consisted on not running at all, forcing me to an extreme tapering. The only serious run I had in three weeks was a 9-miler to test if the knee pain was present and if I was able to make it to the marathon. I passed the test.

On Friday before the marathon my son, his wife and me hit the road to Eugene. I had many fears, as I didn’t know how I would perform after three weeks sitting on the bench.

My cousins Gladys & Alvaro and their two daughters Mariale and Camila were waiting for us in Elmira (1/2 hr from Eugene) with an enthusiasm and love that was worth the trip. We arrived at 10 pm and talked till 1 am. As my husband told me before departing from Seattle: “If you can’t run because the knee, you still will have a wonderful weekend with your family”. And that was true.

Eugene as any American college town is full of energy. You could feel it, and with the race the following day the vibes were all over town. My plans were simple for Saturday: Go to the expo for packet pick-up, see and touch Hayward Field, and visit Pre’s Memorial at the place of his accident. My cousin also took us to Nike where a lot of Pre’s memorabilia is displayed. His log with details of his runs, a letter that he received from the Amateur Athletic Union, documents, and his first Nike shoe. Also a waffle-maker similar to the one Bill Bowerman used to make shoes for his athletes.

We went back home, ready for a carboload dinner. Menu? My adorable husband’s lasagna and pecan pie.

After dinner I organized all my gear and went to bed. I needed to leave at 5:30 am as the race was at 7. I slept pretty good, and woke up at 5 am. My son took me to Eugene, and stayed with me until we started the race. It was wonderful having him with me as he has a great sense of humor, jokes all the time which helped me to calm prerace jitters. When the gun went off Diego looked at me with his gorgeous smile, and with that, he told me everything. This reminded me how blessed I am. I crossed the mat after 3 minutes and went on that exhilarating marathon path so much sought to challenge ourselves, a path full of anxiety, sometimes fear, but a path I decided was going to be fun.

I don’t have recollection of the marathon mile by mile, not sure if is because I don’t know the city, or because I couldn’t believe I was running the marathon after almost calling it off due to the injury. The first miles were wonderful. Thousands of people running for different reasons but with the same goal, to cross the finish line, sooner, later, but to cross it.

I didn’t have a particular running strategy as I was not sure how my body would react after the extreme tapering. At mile 3 I started feeling my legs, and thought it was not good, but I felt better at mile 4, and concerns were gone. 10 K mark registered 1:08:03. At mile 7 I felt with power to do intervals of a mile and that was my strategy for the rest of the race. At mile 9 we were passing by Hayward Field, and the bananas were welcome, though I thought it was dangerous as the center of the street was covered with banana peels. After mile 10 the half and the full split, and some of the fun was gone. Running a race with a lot of people is something I really like, and as in most of the races that offer the full and the half, 75% went to the left, when the other 25%, the marathoners, went to the right.

We ran around the Willamette river, and at mile 13.1 my time was 2:25:08. To make 5 hrs I would have to push it really hard. We entered in an area that was not very pretty to run, but it lasted less than a couple of miles, I believe it was Springfield. Then back to residential area, and at mile 16 I did a pit stop (first time ever I do that in a race) but I was getting a little bit tired, and thought this might count as a recovery “stationary” jog after the interval. At mile 17 my knee started to bother, not pain, but just a bother, stopped and icy-hot in big quantities, and then, I saw Todd for first time, the 5:00 hr pacer. I knew at that moment my chances for five hours were gone as he was running steady and I was not going to be able to keep that pace. I was slowing down, but I was enjoying the race a lot. We entered in a park, and we stayed in park and recreational areas running along the Willamette river until mile 25.5. This was simply beautiful. In every corner there were people cheering for us and people playing all sort of music. The aid stations and volunteers were top notch. Amazing.

I passed the 30K at 3:40:20 and told myself: Wow, what about a 12K in 1h 20min? My best 12K today is 1:13 fresh. Ok, keep on trying… (later I learned the 30K mark was misplaced)...I ran through parks, and trails, and by the river, and everything was wonderful. People were tailgating in the park just to watch us running. Hot dogs, hamburgers, nice smell, but no thank you.

20 miles, the race is reduced to a 10K race, then to a 4-miler, the miles were flying by me, slow but flying, and the finish line was getting closer and closer. By mile 23 there was a samba band, and I started to dance moving my shoulders and one of the players came towards me to run just a little stretch with me.

There was a girl that was running close to me since mile 20, and after passing mile 24 she saw me looking at my watch and asked me the time, I told her "4:44 and we will have to fly if we want to make it in 5 hours", and then she asked me: Will they stop the race after 5 hours? And with that question I realize, AGAIN, how dumb I can be. I told her, no sweetheart, of course not. And she goes: I just want to finish, this is my first marathon... And if she wanted to finish I just wanted to disappear with my stupid comment. I told her she was going to finish great. From there, I said to me: Lizzie, finish your race forget about the stupid 5 hours, and keep an eye because your adorable son Diego must be waiting for you before entering in the track.

And there he was, at mile 26, ready to run with me the last 0.2 miles inside Hayward Field. I broke into tears, he put his arm by my waist, and said come on. As soon as I step on the track I couldn’t breathe, like the little kids that cry in a way that you think they will stop breathing. I ran with him till the finish line, we sprinted at 8 min/mile, he held me tight after crossing the finish line and then on my knees I kissed the ground. I Ran In The Footsteps Of The Legends.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Time 5:06:14 a PR by 11 minutes. Time means nothing. My son Diego taking me to Eugene (5-hour road trip), getting up at 5 am just for his desire of being with me and providing me such support on race day, running the last stretch with me, and offering his arms to my weak and tired body are beyond blessings.

Thank you My Diego. (A lady after him crossing the finish line with me told him: Hey, you ran the marathon in jeans!!!)