Detroit Free Press Marathon
Detroit, MI October 21, 2007

Pre-Race Goal: 3:00:00 or less
7.4 Mile Split: 48:37...18 seconds per mile too fast
Underwater Mile Split: 6:21...Wow! Too Fast
13.1 Mile Split: 1:29:54...Right on pace
17.4 Mil Split: 1:57:09 8 seconds per mile ahead of pace
20 Mile Split: 2:18:28 3 seconds per mile behind pace
Overall Time: 3:04:37 11 seconds per mile behind pace
91/3750 OA, 83/2512 M, 11/311 AG....Top 10 if you take away the Belurussian Elite

Breakfast Report: Multigrain bagel w/ peanut butter, Coffee, about 12 oz Gatorade
Fashion Report: Red and white RaceReady singlet, Red RaceReady shorts, Full Sail Brewing cyclists cap
Post-Race Libations: Labatt?s Blue (When in Detroit.... ) and an array of appetizers in Greektown.

The alarm rang loudly at 4am. Time for my pre-race warmup jog. I'd read about this in Running Times just before my Eugene BQ and decided to make it a part of my race day routine. As I headed out the door, I glanced at my watch and saw 1:15 am PDT (ouch!). A quiet 10 minute jog along the Detroit River assured me that the day would be warm and windy. The eerie quiet of a major city at this hour was quite calming however and I returned to the hotel room ready to eat and mentally prepare.

We rode the People Mover to the start and grabbed a spot in the potty line about 45 minutes before the start. 5 minutes later, we scoped out the starting corrals and did some light stretching. With about 30 minutes until start, I suggested that we get in the potty line again. Good call as the 5 minute wait was now a 20 minute one. We wished each other luck and I entered the B corral. Hmmm, most of these runners are wearing A's on their bibs. Evidentally, the A corral was closed to all but the wheelchair division until about a minute before the gun.

Bang. We are off. I had planned on going out with the 3:10 group for the first couple of miles since that was the fastest pace group advertised. I found three 3:00 pacers before the start, so decided to go with them instead. We hit the first mile right on pace.. Mile 2 was about 10 seconds fast. Fine. Mile 3 approaching the climb to the Ambassador Bridge was again about 10 seconds fast. Mile 4 included most of the climb up the bridge. The view of Detroit and Windsor in the predawn glow was amazing. A gust of wind blew me sideways about a foot and brought me back to reality. 6:08! That mile had to be short. We're running uphill. Mile 5 came in at 7:38. Good the markers were wrong. As we ran through Windsor, we encountered our first significant crowds of the day. The Canadians were great as they really cheered us on. The crowd upped our adrenaline as now the miles started to fly by at a pace that was closer to 2:55 than my planned 3 hour pace. When we reached the tunnel, I was glad to be out of the wind. Until the warm, still, air inside greeted us. For the first time, I was aware of just how much I was actually sweating. I had skipped the first water stop as well as the third. I began thinking that I may need to start getting some fluids at every stop.

The organizers of Detroit did learn from the mistakes of Chicago. Prerace info stated that there would be water and Gatorade about every two miles along the course. On this day with near record temperatures expected, there were water stations at almost every mile. Kudos to the race director for adding extra stops along the route.

Exiting the tunnel brought on a slight chill as the cold wind blew across my sweat drenched body. A temperature drop of about 30 degrees didn't help. I managed to keep my pace strong, but I started to feel the first affects from going out faster than planned. My prerace goal had been to cover the first 9 miles in 63 minutes and then make up the lost time on the flatter, faster second half of the course. Instead, I reached mile 9 more than a minute ahead of sub 3 hour pace. At mile 10, my legs were already screaming and I began to realize that the pain was not going to go away over the remaining 16 miles. This was going to be tough. Miles 11 and 12 were uneventful as we ran back past Tiger Stadium for a second time. The half marathoners split off and headed to the finish area. I still had a long way to go. As I approached the halfway marker, I decided that I couldn't put off a potty stop any longer. The blue boxes were stationed on the sidewalk, behind the spectators. As I headed off course to relief, people in the crowd tried to stop me and redirect me back into the road. PLEASE people! I have to pee! The stop cost me some time as I gave back all of my 90 second cushion and crossed the halfway mat dead on 3 hour pace.

The next mile may have been the cruelest on the course. The crowds disappeared and we ran down towards the riverfront and the full force of the wind. We also passed within a half block of my hotel. I was VERY tempted to step off the course and walk to the finish area in time to see Raquel finish the half. I knew that I would never forgive myself for dropping out of a race when I wasn't injured, so I turned away from downtown and headed north towards Belle Isle. I continued to run within a second or two per mile of my 3 hour pace. A tail wind along this stretch helped as I was not feeling strong. My stomach was getting sloshy and I knew I would have to skip some water stops to give it time to absorb what was already in it. I did manage to pour a cup of water over my head to keep cool under the building heat.

Entering Belle Isle meant climbing another small bridge. It probably wasn't more than a 20 foot elevation change, but it felt like a mountain. Belle Isle itself was very scenic, situated in the middle of the Detroit River and including some grand old buildings. The island was closed to traffic and this meant no crowds to cheer us on except for the water station. Doubt began to creep in as I began to reassess my goals and decided to seek anything better than my old PR of 3:08. A sub 3:05 would be a great day. I didn't realize that I was still ahead of 3 hour pace, but I knew that I couldn't hold this pace for 9 more miles anyway. Mile 17, entering the island, was my last 6:xx minute mile of the day.

The next few miles off the island were run through the Indian Village neighborhood. The homes here would rival those of any great city and the streets offered the first shade since the canyons of downtown 8 miles ago. I was able to drink again, and started to walk through the aid stations. I both wanted to rest my screaming legs and make sure that I took in as much water as possible. I knew that I was somewhat dehydrated, but I also knew that my stomach could only absorb so much liquid right now. As we left Indian Village, just before mile 23, we turned back towards downtown. The rest of the race would be run into a 20 mph headwind. I alternated passing the same slowed runners near me following each water station, only to be passed by them as I walked through the next one. Around mile 24, my lower back started to seize up and I had to walk while trying to massage the muscles loose again. I can only assume that this was due to leaning into the wind while running as well as dehydration. After about a minute or so, I was able to run again and soon caught up with the same group of runners. I decided to skip the final two water stops and simply keep moving forward at my 7:45 per mile pace. I was no longer measuring the race in miles, only minutes left to run. At mile 25, I knew I only had about 10 minutes left to run. There was no way I could reach 3:00, but I could still hang on for something less than 3:05. The crowds were heavy again as we reached Greektown. And I could see the buildings surrounding the Campus Martius finish area. Just after mile 26, I could see the finish banner and decided to give whatever I had left. I felt like I was sprinting, but my watch tells me that I only managed to regain my 3 hour pace for the last .2 miles. As I crossed the line, the emcee was explaining to the crowd the significance of the next five minutes for all Boston hopefuls. With this finish, I earned the opportunity to run Boston again in 2009 should I so choose.

Oh, one more thing. I take away the kudos to the race director. The RD is sick and evil. I just ran 26.2 miles and the finisher's medal weighs half a pound (no joke, I weighed it). That's a full 5 oz heavier than the half marathon medal. It feels like it weighs about 30 pounds around my neck. Ugh.

Post-Mortem: I am much prouder of my performance in this marathon, than either of my other two. In Portland, I faded hard in the final 6 miles as I learned what the marathon is all about. Eugene represented a perfect storm of great training, perfect weather and a terrific pacing team. I didn't feel that my training leading up to Detroit was great. My tuneup races went well, but I never felt that same easy, fluid motion in the rest of my training runs that I had had leading up to Eugene. Add in the difficulties of a seven hour flight and three hour time change, as well as the warm, windy conditions and a PR was more than I should have hoped for. I am most proud of the fact that I never gave up on the race. The low points hit me earlier and harder than in either of my previous marathons, but I managed to push through. As rough as the final six miles were, I passed 18 runners while only being passed by 6. It was a hard day for everyone.