Before I get into the details, it needs to be said that the organization and volunteers up in Duluth were simply awesome - it was very low stress getting to the starting line and taking care of all the little things that go into having a successful race. I’m really grateful for the fact that I was able to get some of the elite treatment with only a 2:30 PR. It may not seem like much, but being able to get a couple of my own water bottles on the course (mainly so I could tape my gels to them) was a small but significant perk. Most of the other cool aspects of the weekend - cracking jokes with Abdi, free dinner and drinks on Friday and Saturday, etc - were more a product of Em doing the US Half Championships, but it was still really cool being a part of that environment.
But on to the race itself. I got up really early to go with Em to the bus pickup for the US Half, which gave me plenty of time to relax and have a bagel and coffee. Afterwards I took my own bus up to Two Harbors, MN for the start. The only part of the course I saw was the first half mile, which was a steady uphill, but the weather felt cool and dry so I was a happy camper. After my warmup, however, I could tell it wasn’t that cool. I started to cook a little bit sitting in the crowd waiting for the gun to go off.
But when we got moving, it was downright chilly again. The Africans seemed content to jog the first mile, so I tucked myself right into the back of the lead pack, and momentarily fantasized about taking off and getting some good pictures. By the mile that ship had sailed, however, as the contenders took off from us pretenders and started hitting closer to 5 minute pace. I came through the mile in 5:35, and failed to entirely resist the uptick in pace on mile 2, which I hit in 5:25.
For the next 6-8 miles, I was treated to a non-stop parade of people passing me. First it was fast looking men. Then it was not so fast looking men. Then the lead women blew by me like I was standing still. All the while, I just kept checking my watch in disbelief: 5:34 for mile 3, 5:40 for mile 4, 5:36 for mile 5, etc. I thought to myself, can there really be this many people that are THAT fast? I’m averaging 5:36 per mile, which is high 2:26 pace...Surely not.
And just like that, I started to see the first implosions from the folks who blew by me earlier. The lead women started to come back to me. A 5:29 for mile 10 caught me a few of the not so speedy looking men. By the time I hit the half marathon mark, in 1:13:23, I was feeling pretty good about catching people the rest of the way. I was still feeling good, and by dumping water on myself at each water stop, I was staying relatively cool despite temps climbing into the 70s and not a lot of shade on the course.
Around mile 17 I got a little over-eager, with a 5:26 mile, and after slowing a bit the next mile (5:44), I overcompensated and hit 5:30 for mile 19. I lost a little momentum stopping briefly to grab my water bottle (ran right past it, and I didn’t want to miss the gel), but I was still feeling good at mile 20, which I hit with a total time of 1:51:52.
But then, the creeping sensation of hitting the wall started to come over me. I got water at one of the stops and could barely swallow it. A slow ache started to spread from my glutes to my hamstrings to my calves. I could feel my stride getting noticeably shorter. I prepared myself mentally for the worst, and told myself that if I could just maintain 6 minute miles I would still be under 2:30, which is not a bad day.
But mile 21, despite feeling terrible, was 5:41. Huh. And mile 22, which featured the supposedly worst hill on the course, was 5:43. And on the long downhill following that hill, I started to feel life coming back into my legs. 5:44 for mile 23. Right through the middle of town now, eyes ahead on the guys who had been slowed to a crawl by their own dead legs. 5:40 for mile 24. Really back on track now. People are screaming, I’m feeling good, and to make matters even better, it’s gotten much cooler all of a sudden. Cold even. 5:45 for mile 25. At this point a guy blows past me at low 5:20s pace, which was weird, but there wasn’t a chance I could pick it up and go with him.
Mile 26 was a winding trip past the convention center, during which my brain was not functioning properly. Having failed to split my watch on the previous 2 miles, I was looking at a running total of the last 3.2 miles. Around 15 minutes (so realistically, still over half a mile to go), I decided that the race must be almost over, so I should pick it up for the last 2 minutes. I have no idea why I thought that was true. After a minute of “picking it up”, I realized I could see the finish and it was FAR away, so I slowed back down. In the final straightaway, I saw one more guy struggling home, so I did my best track impression and kicked past him. It was probably a “kick” of about 5:35 pace, but whatever. In the end my last 1.2 miles was just barely sub 6 pace, but I crossed the finish line happy and tired in 2:27:38.
I'll do another post about what happens next, but for now here are many pictures of me thinking I'm finishing much faster than I really am. Cheers!
