Dan, John and Randy with me after the race.
John and Randy wear their ribbons.
A baseball player can stand at the plate, having done nothing to prepare for the game, and get damned lucky. Maybe the pitcher is serving up meatballs for lunch. Maybe the coach has the outfield shifted to the left and the batter gets and outside pitch. Maybe he simply closes his eyes, sticks his bat out into the the strike zone and something good happens; bloops one over the shortstop's head, right fielder loses the ball in the sun, gets hit by a pitch.
In baseball, as in most sports, the phrase "it's better to be lucky than good" has a place. But in running there is no luck. It's the most honest sport around.
It was with this known fact in the back of wee brain that I arrived at Hillsboro Stadium yesterday morning. It was a glorious morning, cloudless after a late spring of incessant rains. I had ridden with Randy and a group of his buddies that he does the Hood to Coast with each year. These are good people to hang with, the most inspiring is John who weighs about 130 pounds, runs a sub 3 hour marathon and would finish this day the winner of my division. Yeah, my class winner drove me the race!
John winning wasn't that great of a surprise, even in a big race of this size with over 5000 runners. The surprise came in that Randy earned a third place finish for his group! Man, I was hangin with the big boys!
I milled around with the other guys inside the stadium until about 15 minutes before the race when they moved us out onto the street to line up for the start. This was my third Helvetia so I knew the routine. Once in place I got my watch ready, pressing "Training" and letting it lock onto a couple of satellites and making sure it was reset to zero's. I also went to the "Virtual Partner" screen and dialed in pace of 8 minutes thinking I would be happy to maintain that speed.
I had been looking for Alice from work all morning knowing that she was also running, but in a swarm of that many people it's far from a sure thing. She's tall so it helps that you can scan the crowd a head above most of the others. Standing in line waiting for the start I knew my odds would be better since we were lined up more or less by intended pace. Our race times, all things being even, are very similar, her marathon PR is just a minute faster than mine. But she's in much better shape than me right now so I scanned the queue toward the start and sure enough I found her making small talk with the people around her, but too far away for me to shout a hello.
The race started and I pushed my start button when I crossed the mat. The roads around the stadium are pretty wide and despite the number of runners it's fairly easy to find a lane to run in. We crossed the bridge over the freeway and glided into countryside on the other side.
I was starting out with Randy and that means going out fast. I've run enough races with him now to know the pattern, disregarding the conventional wisdom for an endurance race he doesn't waste any time. But I had no serious goals for this race or master plan of my own. If I went out too fast too early, as I suspected we were, no big deal. I was running with my buddy and that was fine with me. We averaged 7m 45s's through the first three miles. The virtual partner on my watch had a nice bright screen.
But this is where the hills start, climbing hundreds of feet for the next two miles. At first I thought I might be okay but then reality slapped me in the face. I was feeling weak in the quads, not winded or tight, just weak. The fifth mile is the steepest on the course and I took 8 minutes and 46 seconds to climb to the top. Randy was probably 75 ahead of me now and I was already ready to be done - but I still had 8 miles to go.
I did take advantage of the downhills. Purposely taking myself out of gear, shortening my stride and careful not to use any brake, I made up some ground on these all to infrequent reprieves. I thought about keeping my same slow uphill pace on the downs and using the added time to recover but decided instead to use the opportunity to practice doing the right thing. It was about this time that I noticed something else about the day. Mentally I was taking myself out of the game.
My smile was gone and my tired legs wanted nothing more than to pull over into the gravel and walk for a while. It's funny but one of the things that kept me from doing just that was seeing other runners who had succumbed to the temptation. "No, keep going. See how you feel in a mile or two. Just keep pushing for now." I knew the course and if I could just get past all the hills in the front half maybe the road back to the start would be more manageable. "Keep going and let's find out."
I made the right turn onto the road that leads to the turn around cone. I recognized an encouraging sign right away. The other times I had run this race the elite runners were already streaming by heading back in the other directions. But this time the left lane was still empty. That did give me a little bit of a lift. Yes, I was tired and wanted to be anywhere else, but for a few seconds I saw the bigger picture.
Over the years I continue to get stronger and faster as a runner for the most part and this was an sure signs that I ran with faster runners now. I tried to hang onto that thought for as long as I could. Any encouragement at this point was all I had.
I rolled along more small hills and past some lavish homes. The lead runners did appear, to shouts by some of us commoners, but the words were ignored as they strode on by, rhythmic and stone-faced. It occurred to me that Alice would be coming past soon and that I should look for her. The thought had no sooner entered my head than I saw her coming at me. I managed get her attention by shouting her name and she turned and smiled and shouted back "good job" as she went sailing by.
The route enters an area where the road twists and turns and is more tree covered. I knew the turn around was just around one of the bends ahead. As I approached it I saw Randy and guessed he was now more than a full minute ahead of me.
I rounded the traffic cone and doubled back. Again, I grappled for the positive and found a small comfort in knowing I was about half way. Every step now was taking me closer to finish and not farther away. I had been running more or less in the same pack of runners, several becoming very familiar as we took turns trading places on the hills.
But now I was fading and they seemed to be maintaining their same pace. I went from my hoped for 8 minute pace to an 8'15 and then to an 8'30". The virtual partner window on the Garmin had been dark for several miles now. Worse ye,t I was already starting to get twinges of cramping in my left leg. I tried to put my focus on the scenery and get some cheer from the farm owners who had come out to drink their Saturday morning coffee while giving encouragement at the edge of the road, but I did not feel much lifted. I just wanted to stop and join them.
I continued on. Then I noticed something else at this race. Nearly no one was carrying their own water except me. It's true that this race is very well supported, they have HEED and water stations every two miles, but I expected to see more people taking care of their own hydration needs on such a long run. Maybe this was a another difference having joined the ranks of faster runners, certainly elites did not pack their own. But I have gotten so used to hydrating myself for anything over 8 miles and I don't like slowing at water stops, gagging and only getting such a small amount of liquid anyway. The only time I broke stride was near the end of the race when I did stopped for a sip of Heed after drinking everything from my Ultimate Direction bottle.
The hills on the first half of the course had taken their toll. My legs were totally gone. This was a feeling I really had never felt before. Even in the last few miles of a marathon I had legs at the end. I may have been cramping and may have been exhausted but without those problems I was still plenty capable of running. But now my legs were heavy and weak. Runner after runner picked me off in the last few miles and I had no answer for them. It was not a matter of will or mind over matter, I was going as fast as I could and 8'35" was about it. I turned south and hit the gravel road seeing the freeway in the distance.
I thought briefly of Bob when I saw the Port-a-potty he had ducked into for several minutes many years ago when Helvetia was my very first running race. It seemed like a long time ago and back then waiting for him for several minutes was no big deal.
The gravel on the road forces the racers to run in one of the two rock free ruts created by the normal car traffic. I stayed to the right rut unless passing someone, which didn't happen very often. A left hand turn now and back onto the pavement, running parallel to the freeway which gave occassional toots of car horns from friendly motorists.
This stretch is where I really started to see other runners falter. Several decided to walk and one pulled over to the right and nearly stumbled to the ground. But most just kept slowly making their way past me. One girl offered encouragement to me as we approached the overpass that goes back over the freeway and her words did help me power over to the other side. I ran slightly ahead of her for another half mile but after turning left and running back toward the stadium, she passed me and I was powerless to stay up.
Now we were back among the modern warehouse buildings separated by patches of green fields. A mile to go. That's all that was left, less that nine more minutes. A twist in the course and I could hear a small band playing some up-beat music. A good sign that this was nearly over. Another turn and now more people on the side lines shouting encouragement. The white stadium spires were plainly visible now and finally a more concentrated group along the road and the din of the loud speaker at the finish started to be apparent.
Suddenly I felt some lift in the my legs as I turn toward the finish area. I dodge my last pair of walkers from the 10K race and entered a ski fenced area in the stadium. I found a little something left in my legs in this last 50 yards that allowed me to look stronger than I was in the end. I powered forward, crossed the last mat under the blow up arch and remembered to press the stop button on my watch.
DONE! Thank gawd! I walked and over and get a medal from one of the volunteers and slipped it over my head. I looked up and to my surprise saw Randy still just a head in the finishing area. We talked about how tough the race was with our lack of preparation. We collected bags from the check area and headed up the stairs to the adult beverage station. After beers we stood in line to make a burger and sat at a picnic table in the warm sun to eat it. It was really a relaxing time.
When we finished they were beginning to announce the winner of the race divisions. We strongly suspected that John had done well and I as I said, we were right -- FIRST PLACE. But the surprise was that Randy came in third in his division and without really doing anything special for it. So I was really inspired by the accomplished company I was hanging around!
As for me, I finished in 1 hour 48 minutes which I think is about an 8 minute 15 second per mile pace. That's six minutes slower than the last time I ran Helvetia back in 2007. But I got out of it what I was able to put into it. You can't cheat a road race. You can't do better than you have trained. There is no way to simply get lucky in this sport by showing up unprepared and hope everything simply works out.
In running you can't just stand at the plate and pray you get a walk.
