Monday, August 10, 2009

River 2 Coast Relay 14 (R2C14)






The Hustlin Highlanders post race and Tim taming the beast, (White calfguards not visible)


RIVER TO Coast Relay August 1, 2009

The 14th running of Mark Zenobia’s River to Coast Relay, or simply R2C14, transpired, or should I say perspired, on August 1, 2009. The day was filled with physical, mental, logistical, and even adversarial hurdles. “Take that Team Audi Wagon from NYC” as we curb hopped over then. The team from Chatham , NJ ran over every hurdle throughout the day, or drive over them if you were Mitch or Justin, our two college age drivers, courtesy of TSS.

The event requires submission of an average 5K time for each runner. Starting times are then determined by aggregating the submitted times, and then multiplying by 4.5 to come up with gross minutes. 8:30pm is the time cut off and your allocated minutes than our subtracted from 8:30 to create a starting time between 6 and 10am. For team #49, aka the Hustlin’ Highlanders, this is our race story as relayed by the observations and impressions of the team through their Team Captain Tim Allison.

All seven team members showed tremendous courage, poise, patience, understanding, sympathy, and stamina to make the event the memorable experience that it became for all seven of us. A brief introduction of the team members and drivers from left to right per the above photo.

Tom Albrecht – aka - the Prof. Reentering the running world in March after an 18 year layoff, Tom laid down 9 valuable miles. He covered his last five miles in sub 8 minute pace. Not bad for a diabetic 40 year old! Affiliation (or affliction) he is Tim’s brother in law from New Paultz, NY. Therefore he has to worship Tim and follow all his zany running tips, such as injesting electrolyte tablets, drinking blue accelerade, and donning breathable IM hats.

Michael Cooney - aka – Coondawg, The YES network director ramped his 3-6 miles a week treadmilling to 15 miles a week outside running in preparation. He had not run a six miler until two weeks before race day. He contributes 11 miles over three stages for the relay including the sprint in to the sea for Team Highlander, dusting that little girl!

Dianna Carroll – aka Mamma llama. Fairmounter Lady Di took her running to a new level in completing over 10 miles in extreme conditions. Dianna had run for charity, but never for team or rabid neighbors before. Not sure who suffered more damage during race day, her body, or her donated Honda minivan.

Marguerite White – aka Ice Princess (Ice P)– Marguerite uniquely discovered the joys of ice during her hot humid training runs. How? By stepping out for a training run through a hail storm. She parlayed this valuable lesson to create ice pellet water scarves for several Highlanders and lend crucial mental and physical support all along the race route.

Ellen Drury – aka Buckeye girl - Same as her treasured team, Ellen consistently is a winner in her running pursuits. She was assigned the longest hottest stage, no cheering and honking please! and then managed to rock out another 6.5 miles on short rest. Way to dot the “I” Ellen!

Mitch from Ohio – Well, he is from Chatham and goes to school at Denison, but is “semestering” in Copenhagen. Mitch manned the Lexus 450, and did not permit curbs, mud, private driveways, or small animals stand in the way of his successful support vehicle driving. Remember what I told ya, those Eastern European girls don’t love you, your charm, or your good looks, they love your green card potential! Careful there, son!

Jim Connelly – aka Jake Blues – Jim manned up for over 17 miles of running and logged the lowest per mile stage split, running 8.2 miles in under an hour and then ran another 9.15 later in the heat. He did not let anything stop him, even the footprints on his back from the Kenyan girl that ran him over at mile 4 of his second leg.

Justin from PENN – Relegated to the minvan, Justin’s manhood was never threatened. However, at midday he was spotted in the Lex 450 with Mitch and what was assumed to be SUV envy. Turns out Ellen and Marguerite had tossed him out of the van for a little lady changearoo time! Sorry Justin!

Tim Allison – aka Race Czar, and the team voted worst relay race dressed team member. Per feedback from Buckeye girl, “That photo is SHOCKING. The only thing missing were the white calf warmers. While I am reluctant to make fun, since god only knows what blackmail pictures were taken of me, but we all know Tim deserves it. BTW Big Al would love it.”

August 1st was to start early, around 4:30 am for the seven runners, but in many ways started months or even years ago. Tim had been working to create a Highlands neighborhood relay team for years. Ellen was first on board, overcoming her fear of the work to regain her competitive running form. Jim and Marguerite were intrigued by a relay concept. Novice runners Tom, Mike and Dianna were venturing into foreign territory, not sure how their bodies or spirits would react to the unknown, in terms of distance to run, how to manage nutrition, hydration and heat, and being surrounded by many ultra competitive athletes.

Race Morning – 5:30 am

Jim, Tim, Mike and Tom, (the boys) congregate at 48 Huron and are met by the two drivers, Justin, and Mitch. Where is Dianna with her van? She is five minutes late then it is 8. The plan was to pack the coolers, drive over to Nicholson and pick up Ellen and Marguerite at 5:40 and then be on the road at 5:45 am. We are now behind schedule and Tim and Jim face their first test of being anal retentive time bandits.

OK, pause, breathe, focus. This event is not about seconds, or minutes, but the whole day. Swallow the testosterone and man up. Face the fact that the day is about seven people and not one person’s race. So what to do? It is decided that Jim’s Lexus SUV heads out to collect the other two girls, and then meet up at the country store. Just as Jim is leaving, Dianna shows up in her Honda Minivan. At 5:39. As she was told we are leaving at 5:45, she is not only not late by most standards, she is six minutes early.

So as we pull the van into the store, the Lex appears. I look at my watch, 5:44 and tell Justin to hit it and follow the departing Lex. We are off on time. Wait, where is Mike? Mike is nowhere to be found. He has gone to pee in the Country Store. Now we experience the first of our Honda door troubles trying to get Mike back in. The door is automatic, but has a mind of its own. Mike struggles to open and close it, Dianna struggles to not say “its not that hard guys”, Justin is quiet and Tim know what will happen next . .wait, wait, wait for it, “Tim’s cell phone rings to Montell Jordan’s “This is How we do it,” the first of many check in calls from Jim wanting to know where are we?

Tension is not ideal to start a race and we need some team building. Our drivers are Justin and Mitch both summer workers at TSS and have “volunteered” to drive today. I guess when compared with packing dumpsters or sweeping up drywall dust, driving a bunch of idiot runners around all day is not a bad deal. OK, we need an icebreaker here!

Hhmnnn, common ground. I think back to my summer of TSS like work. In 1986 I spent 2 months of homebuilding construction, or “the Big Al” story. For those not in the know, let’s just say the story revolves around the general class of career contract day labor construction workers, and the constant sexual overtures toward proclivities that do not include females. That and cleaning up mancrap in paint buckets which always brought a laugh by the labor set At any rate, a small hit to the Captain’s ego to break the ice and the tension. The van arrives at the race start an hour later with the loose fittings of a group prepared to tackle a project together. Now to bring Jim and the Nicholson girls onboard.

Milford, NJ 6:50 am. Check out the Race route http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=milford,+nj&daddr=lambertville,+nj+to:hopewell,+nj+to:rocky+hill,+nj+to:jamesburg,+nj+to:manasquan,+nj&hl=en&geocode=&mra=ls&dirflg=w&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=29.716225,42.626953&ie=UTF8&ll=40.327702,-74.779816&spn=0.445994,0.666046&z=10


Team Highlander enters Milford and the race start. I am now in pre-race mode. How much time to the start? How is my eat and drink? What is the bathroom status? Check in needs? Timing chips? Body marking? Transition Zone set up? OK, this is weird. I am not even running for 3 hours. What I do need to do is bring the team together.

We need to check in, take the race photo, and distribute numbers. Beyond that we have to kill an hour. OK, assign tasks. I need to register us, talk some support logistics to ensure each car has a timer, a timing leadsheet, a plan and icebreaker #2, CAR DECORATIONS!

As any “soft” of creative endeavor, there are early adopters, and those who wait, observe, and will participate when the acceptance risk is lower. Marguerite champions the project from the get go on the Lex. Ellen encourages, Jim watches, Tom captures on video. Poor Mitch who has to tape numbers on the car is lost.

On the VAN, Tim watches as Dianna and Mike decorate and Justin capably tapes car race numbers on. The Big AL theme is memorialized, HEY! what about Highlanders? OK, Tim maybe not your shiniest moment here! The Lex is Highlander central, and yes Mitch please move that race number yet again per Ice P.

Mission accomplished, let’s pin on some numbers, talk race and get ready to go. After some bathrooming, time for the team photo. A last pee for Dianna and to the start on the bridge. Lady Di is nervous, but better now than sitting in the car waiting for hours. Let’s get her feet wet. The team heads up the road to Exchange 1 and Tim, Tom, Ellen and Justin accompany Dianna to the start.

7:40 am - Stage 1 Milford, NJ 7:40 - Mamma on her llama Miles 0-4.8

We are off! Dianna is out fast and is racing the eight other starters. They are all moving and she is in the mix pushing herself out of her comfort zone to keep up with the band of runners. Caught up in the moment and racing, but hey why not! I admire her courage taking on this relay challenge. She makes quick stops for water at mile 1.5, 2.5 and 3.8 and she is into transition to handoff to Jim running sub 9s and her 30 second walks right on the team’s finishing schedule.

I quickly realize this relay is gonna be really hard. Yes, running itself is going to be hard, but way harder to cheer and lend support all day. As a supporter you are not in control of the outcome but can only influence it. And as Captain you must make quick decisions all day long, as you get hotter, more tired, and feel more out of control of your situation. Kind of like being a parent!

8:25 am Stage 2 Bull Island - The Jiminator Miles 4.8-13

The first transition is packed with teams, runners and support vehicles. People are rowdy and loud filled with nervous energy. The van drives by and cannot stop. We do spot Jim getting ready. Ahead one mile we pull off and wait. There he comes! Jim is flying. Stage 2 is a shady wide open road slightly downhill. Though he has 7 more miles to go Jim is on a mission from God. Now if the team only had a 1978 Dodge black and white cop car with a bull horn on the top to cheer him on. V-8 cop motor. Will outrun anything. Throw in 8 Slices dry white toast, and four chickens, whole. Jim is Jake Blues from the Blue Brothers and he is on a mission to get the band back together. Or at least the team to Manasquan in just under 13 hours.

Jim posts 7:25 splits and is the newly appointed Highlander team religious icon. The support thing is still hard but we are getting the routine down. Pull over every other mile, pee in the woods, grab some water and ice and wait for Jim to whoosh by for a quick drink. He passes 6 or 7 teams and posts 8 minutes of “bonus” time for the team.

9:25am Stage 3 Delaware River Canal Tow Path Margueritizing the competition Miles 13-19.5

Marguerite is poised to go waiting on Jim, but not for long. Jim is taking no prisoners and no names. Earlier Jake Elwood joked that the handover at the exchanges involve "making out". At least between legs 2 and 3. “How much for your wife? Your daughter? How much for the women? Nice Try Jake! Save it for the long and hot later.

Ice P will be cool as she is shielded from the road by the canopy of trees that separate the canal tow path from the highway. She recalls, “During my first leg in Lambertville on the canal I thought it was funny that one runner got around the "no IPOD" rule by attaching a small sound system to his waist and playing 80s music/Pat Benatar for all those around him to hear.

She tracks two other runners and does not know her pace, but knows she is kicking ass. “I found my strategy of just running and focusing on the run and not the time successful during my legs in my effort to go as fast as I could and therefore exceed my performance expectations.” And four minutes under the team captain’s projections for her as well. She comes in under 50 minutes for the 6.5 miles which is sub 8 minute pace. AWESOME

Team Highlander is now a net 12 minutes under our required pacing to finish. OMG! Meanwhile Justin drives the van ahead to the 3rd exchange for the 4th leg at the CVS in Lambertville. As Ice P churns into the exchange, the Lex drives ahead to an old folks home half a mile up the Rt 518 hill otherwise known as the beast to serve as the backup water stop.

10:16am Stage 4 Lambertville and the Beast Hello? Can I speak with the Fashion Police please? Miles 19.5-27.7

I spot Ice P coming and am getting ready to run. Justin, Ellen, Tom and Marguerite will catch up to provide my support service. I check my watch and “Wow”, Marguerite posted a great leg, and I am off. Wish Jake Elwood had clued me in on his suggested exchange zone protocol. I settle into a smooth pace into downtown Lambertville. The traffic is fierce and I know that the van will be ensnared in it. There goes my support! I can only hope that the Lex is in the home and will be ready for me! Whoosh, what was that? I have been tracking a 20s something runner girl up the hill, hey anything to motivate yourself right? When I get my doors blown off by this large black Kenyan dude. Well, at least he is a guy! I proceed up the hill and it is getting hotter. The heart rate is getting higher fast. I am now into my routine. Look ten feet in front, head down and move the feet. Like hot coals, small choppy steps but get those puppies up as fast as they touch. Don’t look around, just in front and keep those feet up.

Think Tour de France, think Tourmalet, Ventoux, anything to make this pain seem like its not a big deal. I sneak a peak and “Ah, there is the home”. “There is the Lex. Wait, what are they doing?! They are laughing and standing around! I yell “water”. No movement. I yell again, and Jim Tom and Mike see me and then come scrambling to the rear and then race out to the street. Apparently, as I am approaching Justin has called ahead to warn them they are tied up below. Jim and Mike reach me and I grab a Gatorade for the next few miles of road. Shew! Disaster averted and back to my climb up the Col.

As I depart team highlander determines that mismatched blue and red lycra tri gear, and 2XU white calf compression guards combined to make a bold statement. And not one they necessarily want to be associated with!

The remainder of the Beast is rolling, up , down, up again. I try and settle into a sustainable pace but it is hard to catch your breath. You want to go fast down and then always have another small climb. At least only rock star runners are passing me, but I am not passing anyone either! With a mile to go there is a stop light in Harbourton and I miss the cycle to rest for 30 seconds. A couple of guys catch up, including Team #26’s Mohawk boy. I tag up and the four of us suffer another mile on our way to the diner.

11:22am Stage 5 Brass Ring Rt 31 The Pelham Express Miles 27.7-34.2

I make it in just over an hour and 5 minutes and wave across Rt 31 to Mike to go get ‘em. He is easy to spot, tall white and with the headband. Kinda like Salami in the White Shadow, without the locks. Hey if we are tossing around fashion stones! As Mike jets off, I find myself disoriented and very hot. I spot Ellen in the loo line and she directs me toward the car. I grab some water, some recovery drink and then get out of my wet clothes. I leave my calf guards on for recovery. Yes, they look goofy but they seem to work. No leg cramps for me! Marguerite is not so sure.

Pelham’s finest has stepped up in class to tackle a tough hilly and rolling course into Hopewell. Mike is great at just psyching himself up and everyone else up for the legs. He may be scared and has never raced a 10K but you cannot tell. He is pacing well and carrying his speed up the hills. He is consistent and does not blow up. Most importantly he actually looks like he is having fun while baking in the sun like a hot salami. The Lex is supporting and us in the van stop once to cheer him on and then head to the Princeton Elks for Ellen to prepare to run. It is 11am now officially hot out. There is no shade and we are hot just standing, so we all know how hot that the Pelham express must feel out on the course. Mike secures an ally over the last mile to convince him to pick it up and he finishes strong in under an hour.

12:20pm Stage 6 Princeton Ellen’s Army Miles 34.2-42.2

The good news is that Ellen is a strong and consistent runner. The bad news is that she is forced to cool her jets for mandatory stopping points right away at Great Road, and then again for 2 minutes at Rt 206. Also her jets are not cooling because the temp is now in the high 80s and still getting hotter.

Marguerite and I post ourselves at key turns to support her and provide drinks. We also have Justin beep the horn as we pass her as encouragement. Apparently, Buckeyes do not like to have horns being blared at them much. I assume it rekindles memories of the USC marching band horn section blares after each Trojan 1st down and TD in the BCS last year. It is interesting to see how everyone has their own race needs from the support vehicle....Buckeye girl asks us all that we leave her alone with her GU and provide her water, and no cheering. Her stage is hilly, hot, and horn laden, but she champions through the 8 miler. It is not a fun stage but she takes her medicine and preservers. (Shhhh, golf clap, golf clap, golf clap) We are now at the Westin at Rt 1 Forrestal Village. Room please? No, we are not even halfway through this lunatic fringe undertaking.

1:35pm Stage7 Halfway home Thomas the Train Miles 42.2-46.2

Tom is up now for a tricky, curvy 4 miler. He takes off through the corporate parks and we see him first at the 1.5 mile mark. Man it is now officially hot out! Justin tells me it is over 95 on the roads. Tom pauses to drink and then he gets whitewatered. I mean ice water pouring over his head and down his back to cool him down. I know that last weekend at the hot Sherwood 5K he overheated and had to slow down. Today he barks at me to stop, then after the initial shock to his system the cool water kinds feels good. Emboldened I cannot wait to douse our future runners on upcoming stages. Tom trots in after about 35 minutes and we are halfway done. Somehow we are doing this! But not being timed, The Lex’s stop watch has crapped out. Mitch hands me their time sheet that is a mess. Kinda like something a third grader would submit on a pre-calculus test.

2:10pm Stage 8 Oasis Sunny D Miles 46.2-15-51.7

Whoever named this stage Oasis must have been chewing Qat or some other mideastern halluciongenic. There is no water, no shade, no mirages, and no damn oasis. Lady D makes it through the first 1.5 miles OK and then trouble starts. Well, yes for her as she has to cross a metal pedestrian bridge that has been baking all day and has temps well over 120. Her core temp quickly rises and she knows she is in trouble.

But actually I was referring to Ellen, Marguerite, Tim and Mitch in the support vehicle. For the second day in a row I miss the sharp turn onto New Road and Mitch jerks a right into the vacant building and lot to cut through and back onto the route. However, a little richy rich NYC yuppie team’s tricked out Audi wagon is blocking us. Fruity pebbles is wary of driving forward to enter the street requiring a curb hop and potentially scraping the muffler of his Hampton hooptie.

Instead, he insists on backing up to exit the driveway. Unable to turn around he wants us to back out too into the street to allow him to exit. Mitch from Ohio is not going to play that game. He veers dangerously close to the Audi as it starts to back out toward us. Richie stops, we pass even closer next to him and curb hop out into the street and we are gone. How ya like us now playa hater!?

We spot Sunny D and she is red in the face and overheating. The three of us all voice encouragement for her and ice her down. Each half mile we take turns walking short stretches with her. We are all scared and tried not to show it. She is upset, emotional, and very hot. Heatstoke is a scary thing. I also do not know how well she has hydrated and how susceptible to the heat she is. However, D is on the case and she keeps movin’ and will not throw in the towel.

Speaking of towels, Ice P fashions an icy head scarf for Dianna to wear to try and cool her. The next 3 miles are touch and go. We are quite worried about Dianna and her health, however, we know how much she wants to plug on and not quit. Jim is on deck and is blowing up the phone wanting updates. A contingency plan is formed. He will drive back and if she cannot go, he will take over and then also run his upcoming 9 miles. OOFffaa.. That would suck.

With a mile and change still to go, Ellen and Marguerite and I make a call. We leave her. That might sound mean and dangerous, but our logic is this: Whenever D sees us, she stops. Yes she is hot and could faint. However, there is a mandatory stop with race officials in sight in less than 400 meters. Then after she has only another 1000 meters to go. We leave her and collect Jim and the Lex and head up to the check point.

Here the EMTs are involved too on the radio with the checkpoint. We all await news. We hear that Dianna has crossed the mandatory stop and is headed our way. Did we do the right thing? Will she make it in? If she collapses, I will not only feel personally responsible but need to answer to her family as well as the Captain and decision maker. I try and justify my decision that race officials on the course have just seen her and let her go, she wanted to go, and we were talking a short distance at this point. As I chew on this on the edge of our vision we see her. She is not only heading in but she is running. Talk about the little engine that could, here she comes chuggin it in. She slaps Jim’s hand. (Still no kiss Jake?) and he is off and Dianna get a quick check from the EMTs and starts the cool down process. She is awesome! Team Highlander is still in the game!

3:15 pm Stage 9 Long and Hot Miles 51.7-60.9 Holy hotness Bat jim!

Jake/Jim is still on his Blue Brothers mission. The problem is, with no coolent the cop motor is starting to overheat. Also Jake Blues is being pursued by the Nazis, the Illinois National guard, and a Kenyan girl in green that literally prances over his fallen carcass as she jets by. Wow, team highlander just got run over by the green team. Even the pink team passes us. The Lex and Van rally at a 7-11 a mile later and reallocated resources like ice, food, sponges, Gatorade and our Highlander team pride.

We realize that the weather warriors are emerging victorious over the Highlanders. After toying with Mike, flirting with Ellen, and abusing Dianna, her heatness has just bitch slapped Jim in the shape of a Kenyan girl to bring us back down to the reality of how hard a relay event is.

In fact, you truly feel for everyone. At the Princeton exchange, zone a runner comes tearing in working his ass off. Only to discover there is no handoff to be had as no one on his team is in sight! Then as he dejectedly walks into the parking area, there is his team at their car, drinking cool liquids and telling stories. Man, talk about pain!

OK, Time for Team Highlander to rally. Jim hydrates a bit, becoming sponge worthy if not kiss worthy and ventures on resplendent in an Ice P scarf, and a new found respect for the Kenyan princess god of weather. He slows down but will not quit.

Tom Ice P Justin and I venture ahead for the upcoming wildcard legs. Mitch, Mike, Dianna, and Ellen stay to support him. It is interesting to see the transition of the complexion of the running crowd as the day wears on. Once the faster more competitive runners catch up with the earlier teams we all went from passing people to being passed. Then things totally thinned out and the race official sweeping the event became more visible so we knew it was time to double up on the legs.

4:40 pm Stages 10/11 Monroe Township T n T’s Wildcard Dash Miles 60.9-74.9

As we wait at the Old Zion Church, Marguerite consults a race official who explains that race director Dan has already been in touch with our team to discuss our strategy to finish. (Translation, we need to double up or we risk not finishing within the time cutoff) Reality – she is lying about contacting our team, (I believe that Dan may be trying to locate us, but at this point he has not.) However, considering that we were jobbed at least 40 minutes on our starting time due to our inaccurate 5K times we are not surprised by this sequence of events. I now fear the dreaded race official discussion looming on the horizon.

I only know that I need to get ready to run. To be honest, map navigating, cheerleading, and race time recordkeeping math and logistics are mentally taxing. Running is much easier. I came here to run and that is what I need to focus on. I have planned my eating very carefully the last four hours. I am full, hydrated, and should be mostly digested. I also have been poppin electrolyte tablets 3 per hour to increase my water absorption and maintain electrolyte balance. Also I have my calf guards that may help physically but certainly help mentally. Hey it beats the frilly wear that Susan Sarandon made Nuke LaLoosh pitch in for the Durham Bulls!

I chat with two 6 minute a mile track stars, as Jim comes into view. He is straining and hot, However, he is movin’ “take that weather gods!” Team Highlander is still in this thing. I set off at a comfortably hard pace. Tom and I had discussed a plan for the upcoming 14 mile stage. I will initially go 3-4 miler hard until I am gassed. Then Tom goes hard for a mile and change. Then we rotate going 2 miles to one mile until we are done.

As I set out, I think about how fast I am going and how I am still a runner at age 41 and all the leg injuries. I am feeling pretty good about myself when whoosh! I barely hear track god 1 as he comes up on my rear door and then quickly disappears from view. Wow, he really is running sub 6 mine pace! Wow. I am turning it over when I enter Monroe Township. I try to remember the race route. All I know is we stay on 522 and then get on 527 south. However here 522 is a turn to the left and 527 goes straight ahead. I look around for any clues, any team vehicles. Anything! I decide to stay straight and get on to Rt 527 thinking well since I need to eventually end up on it might as well be now. I am rewarded with the decision a few minutes later when a team car goes by and I am still flying along at 7:15 pace.

The Lex comes up on me and Jim tells me what I had been dreading. Ellen will start the next leg concurrently so we can finish within time before 8:30. I do not want this to happen and believe that Tom and I can buy back a lot of time running 7:30s. However, deep down I know that Jim is right and this is a team event. That and also the decision has already been made. Tim FOCUS!! OK, let’s still run hard and see how early we can finish among the other teams.

The rest of the run is one of those magical times I refer to as achieving a runner’s high. I go two miles until I am getting gassed, see Tom and he runs one mile and change and I then run two more. The only issue I have is that Tom, Jim, or some combination thereof always seem to pick the top of a hill to stop for an exchange. No matter, Tom and I are flying, and more importantly passing other runner teams. First, the Pink Team, then team 77. We log our first 10 miles in under 75 minutes. This is fun! At mile 11 I am closing in another prey. I see her stop to walk and am confident I will pass her.

She takes a left turn. Uh oh, is that right? I approach the intersection. We are on Rt 524 now, and the detour sign says Rt 524 Business to the left. Hmmnn. Then I recall seeing 524 business back at the diner, and think Jim would definitely have stopped or told me about a turn. I will trust him and continue on. A half mile later there is the white shirt that I know is Tom. There is another team also waiting there. I give them the bad news. They do not believe me at first. I am like, “what? Yes, you caught me, I was trying to mess with you!” You idiots, go get your teammate. The van u-turns and the waiting runner proceeds to just sit there waiting at their agreed upon exchange point. I yell at him too. Hey, “She is lost, scared and tired” Walk back there and give her a break, loser! We finish up the 14 miles sub 1:50 and look for the van, some A/C and the cooler.

5:40 Stage 12 Reachin for the beachin Ice, Ice, Buckeye baby! Miles 74.9- 81.4

While Tom and I are doing our thing, Ellen has ramped up for her second run. It is now cooler than her nooner run, and she is feeling good. She has practiced running two a days and her legs are responding well. However, the heat in the sun is still there and she is slowly getting hot again. Though she hates the cheers, she does hope she can spot the Lex for some support. However, Mitch has ventured off course on a Bud Lite acquisition mission, but hey Buckeye girl, with no support, no one can honk and yell cheers out at ya either!! Then she runs up on the Lex and Mitch and Mike step out for her aid. Mitch hands Ellen a huge ice chunk. Too big to shove in her mouth, Ellen stuffs her jog bra with it instead. Talk about win win! She is instantly cooling down and can run faster, and Mike and Mitch can’t be complaining either!

She is now hitting the accelerator and kicking it in toward the exchange zone, Mitch yells at her that only two more miles to go! She is gassed and flustered. Only when she then spots the exchange cones a minute later can she breathe. Simultaneously the van is driving toward the exchange to drop off Marguerite for her leg. Tim and Tom can barely stop exchanging fist bumps after their tag team stage. Jim is navigating toward the next stage, or at least to the van where Mitch has now secured the cooler of BLs. Ellen has run so fast that we have not been able to catch up for Marguerite to be available at the next exchange zone. Ellen has no one to exchange with!

6:30pm On the shore Stage 13 M+Ms Do or die! Miles81.4-89.3

Out of nowhere Mike to the rescue! He will start running Marguerite’s leg until we arrive with her. In fact he has visions of running her 8 mile leg and then having Marguerite run his finishing sprint. Wow, eight for you big dawg?! Excuse me, Cooner, like no way Jose! Ice P did not come this whole way to sit in a Lexus with sweaty people that are acting like children. She does that at home every afternoon. She bolts out of the car and crosses the road to take what is hers. The Lex boys all nod their heads with appreciation until Marguerite assumes a gait similar to a kid tied to another in a three legged potato sack race. Man, her hip is bad. Does she stop? Hell, no! Team Highlander will not go out like that! She befriends another runner works it out and they find their pace and go.

By now it is 7pm and I feel that the mental decision making skills are similar to those during a last call situation. Jim and I hunker down over the racebook to decipher how to support and stage the last leg into Manasquan and are thoroughly flustered.

Finally, I muddle through enough to direct Jim to stay with the van to support Marguerite and then heads to the race finish. Tim, Mike, Justin and Ellen, head to Stage 13 and the final exchange to catch Ice P comin home.

Marguerite had this to say, “ The crowds at the end of the race as we get closer to the beach are terrific. There is true unity with all of the participants. All along the way if you need something other teams would offer it to you. Very healthy competition. And at the end I just started tossing garbage to folks including sweaty rags and they happily took it.” Happily? Wow!

So we park the van in a lot and enter the mad throng of racers. Oh, and yes Justin and Tim split a BL in the lot, but hey what Jim doesn’t know . . .. Stage 13 ends down a long shaded bike path into the crowd for the final handoff. I step up as close as we can go with Mike and he is entering the zone. No, not that zone, but that area behind the buildings where he can drain the vain before his last sprint to the sea.

7:40pm Manasquan Stage 14 Mike to the sea Miles 89.3-92

Our number is called and Marguerite emerges from the shadows. Mike and I scream at her and she hits the jets. Mike is now up for the last 2.5 miles in. Not even a 5K, how hard can that be? Well, he did get up at 4:30 am, ran a hard hilly hot 6.5, sat in a car with other running lunatics for 12 hours, then stepped in for at least 2 miles of the prior legs. All meaning that for someone who until recently had never run more than 4 miles in one day, he has already ran close to 9 miles TODAY!

The old Mike would not accomplish this total mileage for a WEEK!. ..So yes this final 5K is hard! Oh, and Mike then decides that to really put the pressure on, let me step in a hole on the second turn and twist my ankle too!

We enter the car for the drive into Manasquan. Justin lets us out at the finish and the girls seek a civilized urine depository facility. I still have two duties to perform. I need to populate and submit our timing sheets. I also need to yell NY Giant 4th quarter motivators to the Coondawg as he comes in. Man this math is hard! I manage to nearly complete the sheets as the headbanded Highlander rolls toward the final turn. Wait. Is that a 20s something girl coming up abreast of him, then going for the pass. Coondawg hits the nitro and pulls ahead. She then rekicks. Uh, oh, that is it. GOOO Mike, 4th quarter! Get off the ball Strahan! Mike finds it within him to rekick and is now a runaway 18 wheel semi around the final quarter turn. The crowd claps and roars! No, seriously, I heard it!

I look at the time clock. 12:27 and it is 8:07pm. Team Highlander has traveled from River to Sea in 12 hours and 27 minutes. Even factoring in the doubled up leg, team highlander comes in well under 13 and a half hours. That means that a 7am start would have brought us home right in the thick of it!

Odds and the end/After party

Jim and the team has secured a strategic spot by the water and team highlander breaks out some beers. I snag a couple of pizzas, and the drivers joins the group. Ellen’s family meets us and brings along high end champagne and stogies. SWEET! Smiles, hugs, and stories are given, taken, told, and retold. The Highlanders are oblivious to all the chaos around us and don’t care how gross, smelly, and tired we all feel. We are like old friends getting together to get caught up on all the happenings. And to think that less than 13 hours ago, we were little more than neighborly strangers that needed a Big Al story to break the ice!

Wait, hold up! Did Mike jump in the ocean? Did our designated “get wet” person shirk his duty? Guess we will just have to reunite the team next year for R2C15. Until then, keep hustlin!






Wednesday, April 22, 2009

RACE HISTORY Log

RACE History Log Updated September 2009



2009



9/26 Great Eastern Endurance Run (GEER) 100K Finished!



8/1 River to Coast Relay 14 (R2C14) 8/1



6/14 EAGLEMAN 70.3 Cambridge, MD 6/14 Finished 6:25



4/26 Bassman Bass River, NJ Sprint- (Injured hernia repair)


2008



10/4 Portland Marathon 4:29



8/31 IM Louisville, KY 13:30




6/9 Eagleman 70.3 Cambridge, MD 6:23

2007




9/30 Chesapeakeman 140.6 Cambridge, MD (PR 12:51:52)



9/8 Pine Barrens Olympic, Vincentown, NJ



7/15 Anthracite Olympic Mauch Chunk Lake, PA PR 2:53:22



6/8 Eagleman 70.3 Cambridge, MD (PR 5:41)



4/30 Bassman Sprint Bass River, NJ



4/4 Cherry Blossom 10 miler Wash DC (PR 68.02)



2006


9/6 Diamondman 70.3 Bear, DE 6:02


7/15 Anthracite Olympic Mauch Chunk Lake, PA



5/6 Devilman 70.3 Cumberland County, NJ 5:52



4/1 Cherry Blossom 10 miler Wash, DC 75:30

2005


10/13 Baltimore Marathon


8/27 Half Vermont Journey 70.3 Salisbury, VT


5/30 Midland Run 10 miler Far Hills, NJ



5/20 Pine Barrens Sprint Vincentown, NJ



2004


10/14 Baltimore Half Marathon


8/29 Annapolis, MD 10 mile run



2003 (Injured multiple compound femur/hip replacement)



2002


11/15 Great Swamp Devil Run 15K Basking Ridge, NJ (PR 15K race 62:44)



11/1 Giralda Farms 10k Madison, NJ (PR 42.50)



10/13 Baltimore Marathon (PR 3:36:02)



9/25 Haybale Races 25K Branchburg, NJ (PR 2:01)



8/28 Annapolis 10 miler Annapolis, MD (75:29)



6/8 Lake Mohawk 8 mile run around the lake Sparta, NJ (PR 54:07)


4/15 Hacklebarney Hill Climb 15K Pottersville, NJ

2001

9/16 Philly Distance Run half marathon (PR Race 1:33:40) Philadelphia, PA



6/8 Lake Mohawk 8 mile run around the Lake Sparta, NJ 54:08


5/20 Midland Run 10 miler Far Hills, NJ

4/03 Cherry Blossom 10 miler

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Portland Marathon 2008



Portland Marathon Mile 18 St Johns Bridge


So the 2008 Ironman Louisville is over, so what now? Well . . .. my uncle from Newport Beach, CA has four kids, my cousins, and the youngest of which planned to get married in Portland, Or on October 3, 2008. My uber tri bro Kirk from IM Zona fame lives in Portland with my cousin Steph and their two kids and always runs the Portland Marathon . . . . .the race start is the morning after the wedding and only three blocks from the hotel . . .hmmnnnn , , ,
You get the picture. Fly in to Portland with Heather, Josh, and Quinn on a long six hour flight all day Friday from New Jersey. At the rehearsal dinner at the brew pub, (What? you are in Portland, it has to be a brew pub or a coffee joint right?!) it is 8pm but feels like 11pm for us. oh, and yes it is misty and raining, it is the Pacific Northwest after all!
Anyway, the kids are jetlagged wiped and so are we so we all crash at 8:30 halfway thru the dinner. Saturday is packet pickup and the Children's Museum followed by the wedding itself. I am not going to not enjoy the reception and have some light beer, but I am careful to mix in lots of water too. As the party gets started at 11pm I am off to bed.
Sunday Marathon day I have a 5am wakeup call and hit a light breakfast in the lobby. I bid adieu to my sister Carrie and her family who is headed back to New York on an early flight. I swap some stories with a fellow racer who is in his 2nd marathon. I tell him about IM and he shares with me some Utah track stories and his goal to run sub 3 hours and qualify for Boston. Speaking of Boston, Kirk is also gunning for a 3 and a half hours and an entry to Boston spring of 2009.
My aim today is to pace him as long as possible to meet this goal and then finish sub 4 hours. I am a little worried about my legs after completing IM Lousiville just a month before. I have felt OK in training but have not run more than 14 miles since the IM marathon march.
We meet at the start with Kirk and his gym buddies and we are a bit late and the port-o-let line is crazy hectic. We hit the start chutes at race start and sneak through the crowds way up to nearer the front. There are people everywhere!
At 7pm the gun goes off and we are away across the line within 15 seconds. We are keeping a close eye on the Geico Lizard pacer who is carrying a long stick with the gekko. The pacer will keep us on a 3:30 pace for the first half of the race and then be replaced with a second pacer for the second half of the race.
Portland is a green city and this is evident for the marathon too. The goodie bags are recycleble, and the race timing chips are magnetizied plastic strips that stick to your shoe laces. Weird and mine does not seem to be staying on right.
The start is your typical big city race start, a mad throng of over eager racers. Kirk and I stick to the right edge to allow for some manuvering. Through mile 1, 2, 3, and 4 we are slightly below 8 minute per mile or 3:30 marathon pace that Kirk needs for Beantown. In fact we will hit a couple of 7:30 miles in the first 10 miles which is kinda fast for me with 5lbs of femur steel.
At mile 6 the crowd is starting to thin out a bit and we head out of downtown Portland into the warehouse district for a long out and back. Kirk and I get separated at the waterstops trying to grab cups on the go but manage to reconnect each time. Because of the crowds and our need to stay on pace I am not getting enough fluids. As the weather is 50s and overcast, I am not that worried about this. Big mistake! I do start to realize that we are moving and not simply shuffling along.
An ideal marathon pace has the first six miles or 10k be a cakewalk, the first half 13 milers comfortable and the first 20 miles being difficult but with some reserves in the tank for the final 10k. Our first 10k split is 49:22 or just under 8 minute pace. So far so good. I can tell that Kirk is getting excited too, or just listening to a good Ipod song . . .yes Portland is the Ipod friendly marathon too and we are rockin out!
The crowd continues to thin out and we now can spot some of the elites whizzing by us on their return leg from the warehouses. The volume is light and only a few minutes in front of us the number of runners becomes a pack from a trickle a few minute before. There are definitely some women thrown in there too. Some run effortlessly, others have a face of focus and determination. At 8 mile mark the water stops are still a problem for me every other mile to grab enough fluid and go without breaking pace.
At the mile 8.9 time check we are still right on pace at a 1 hour 10 minutes or a 7:52 pace. What is this pacer doing? trying to break us? We are both in a nice rhythm now and there is plenty of room to manuever and keep the gekko flag in eyesight. Kirk and I are tending to the back of the pace group and I am defintely laboring a bit now. Hopefully a second wind will kick in soon!
At the ten mile we complete the return leg and cross to new territory. The crowds behind us coming out the leg are starting to build into the mad throng we have left just behind. Sub eight minute pace at least has some benefits! Kirk and I exchange smiles and a fist bump, and Kirk lets out a BOSTON BABY! A couple of our fellow runners look at us approvingly. But now back to the business at hand and we still have a long way to go!
There is a downhill at mile 11 and I lose Kirk for a minute as he fiddles with his gel pack and falls back. He is smart and I eat some Clif Blocks but also lose a pack at mile 11 racing down the hill to stay with the pacer. I am worried for Kirk here as I know I am starting to fade a bit and pray for some energy. I eat a pack of Blocs but also drop my salt tabs by accident and cannot stop for them.
Fortunately I spot Kirk at the bottom of the hill who gives the thumbs up and we resume the pace. Now comes the good news/bad news. On the plus side, at the half marathon pad we roll over at 1:43:37 or at 7:55 pace and are flying as the crowd thins out more. We are on the 3:30 finish pace with a one minute cushion built in. On the negative side, I am starting to feel it and my legs are dead legs as I struggle to turn them over and keep up with the pacer. Several times I fall 50 yards back and have to fight my way back up to Kirk and the bedraggled pace group. To further reduce morale, we grab a new pacer and our old pacer drops out and walks and smiles at us as we whiz past. I hate him! Friggin 7:30s!
At mile 15, I am starting to realize that the goose is cooked and am praying for some energy. I snack on the last of my blocks and hope to hang on. Kirk is looking concerned, but I want him to focus on his race. I give him the sign and tell him to go with the pace group. He looks at me and tries to be a team guy. I tell him again. You go now! I fall back fast now down to a 9:30 pace to make him go and try to plot my plans to recover and finish the race.
Leaving the pace group behind I am running virtually alone. There are a few brave souls pluggin along as we hit the hill up to the St Johns bridge and up to the photo above.
I run the bottom half of the hill and then walk. Gotta save what I have left! I am being passed a bit but I don't care. The walking feels good on the legs and I start to recover a bit faster than an IM marathon march.
Near the top of the hill I am running at mile 17.5 and cross the time check at 8:12 pace or two hours and 23 minutes. The time is still solid and run down the bridge and hill through mile 18 where there is a second uphill to the peak of the course.
My legs are heavy and dead and there it is . . . .. the wall. . . . People talk about hitting the wall all the time. I always equate that to not having energy or wind left, or willpower to carry on. I have all of these mental and heart required . . . . .but still the wall is there.
Quite simply the feeling is that no matter what your brain signals your nerves, you cannot run anymore regardless of how much you want to. Behind my knees first the left then the right calves deep inside simple stop working. My brain say push, and I cannot push off to lift my legs and take steps. even walking is painful each step. It is very much like a physical wall in front of me that is preventing me from continuing. I still try a couple of shuffle step strategies and no go. It is time to walk and eat and regroup.
At mile 19 I am still trying to shuffle out of the walk and the legs scream in protest. I am scanning for food and drink at every spectator group. The mile 20 sign takes forever to spot and I cross it in two hours and 55 minutes or 8:36 pace overall. The time is still Ok, but also that is a 31 minutes for the last 2.5 miles or a 12:30 pace. Ouch. Kirk is now 20 minutes ahead of me, I hope! Other runners are starting to pass a bit more now too, and the 3:35 and then the 3:40 pace groups whiz by. In their wakes there is always a blank zone until a few runners start to fill the voids.
I am walking now and convincing myself it is OK to quit. I served my mission and got Kirk on pace as far as I could. I do not need to finish this. Why bother? The fact I have never quit and not finished any race ever seems of small consequence. I spot the Red Cross aid station at mile 21 and I stagger in. I tell them I am cramped up and I get some massage and I lay down. I am given some of the hammer drink, and some gel. I tell them I am done and can I wait for the shuttle back to the race start.
A chunky beer belly cop laughs and I am thinking, why don't you drop 35 lbs and try to run once in a while! He then says the shuttle is at least 90 minutes away from leaving here. I know before he says it, I am better off walking and I lift up and stagger out. At mile 21.1 the clock now says 3:13:10 or 18 minutes since my last mile was completed. This is gonna suck!
I think to Kirk and hope that he is steaming in to mile 24 right now with 16 minutes to go the last 2 miles and get in under 3:30. If I am in pain he must be fighting it too! Though I am only 3 miles behind him and with only 5 miles to go I am worried. Then I start to thinking about how the only way to get to the finish is on my own. Also Kirk will be waiting around for me too so perhaps I can get there soon. 5 miles should take 45 minutes so I can still make my four hours finishing goal.
I start a tentative jog. After a 100 yards the hamstrings and calves seize back up and that is it. I am demoralized and walking through mile 22 and then 20 minutes later through mile 23. Seeing people of all body types run by this soon after completing an IM is further disheartening. Four hour finish pace group sails by. Then 4:15 group too. Down a long hill I still can only walk. Finally at mile 23 we are closing in on downtown. There is a long bridge coming up and now I am getting cold. I just need to get warm and dry now. Nothing else matters.
I start a jog just to move and blow on my hands. My wet shirt is not helping any. My four hour goal to finish is out and the new goal is built upon the need for warmth and nothing else. I need this to end.
I am able to hold the jog and cross mile 24 still jogging at 11 min pace. It hurts a lot but now everything hurts and I am freezing too. I cross mile 25 and am hanging on by sheer grit and fear of freezing if I stop. At least in IM it is hot out and suffering is miserable but not freezing on top! At mile 26 there is no kick, no joy . .. there is nothing. I look up at the finish and manage a smile as I come in under 4:30 at 4:29:43. Could be worse! I am done . . . . .
I hit medical and enjoy warm blankets, a smoothie, and a cookie. After a medical check, I am released into general population and secure an orange, a coke and my hard earned techinical finishers shirt. I look in faint hope for Kirk and am hopeful for his result. I pass through the throngs and look for him at our pre-determined meeting spots.
I grab my checked bag and labor back to the hotel. Heather and the kids are with Steph and I have the room for myself and hit the shower. The steamy water is soothing and my cold skin turns red from the change over. I think hard about sitting down but fear I will never get up again!
The Portland Marathon is in the books and the pain is over. Kirk picks me up at the hotel and beers and pizza are savored with Kirk at the brewpub and then at the Lackos post race with the kids! What? oh Kirk's race results? You will have to go to his blog . . ... no kidding . . ..guess who posted a time of 3 hours, 30 minutes and 41 seconds? Can you say Boston baby, boston! with 18 seconds to spare!! See ya for an April 20, 2009 Patriots Day race!
The bid


Thursday, October 23, 2008

Philadelphia Distance Run (PDR) September 16, 2001

FName LName Age Sex ChipTime ClockTime Overall SexPl DivPl Half Result
TIM ALLISON 33 M 1:33:40 1:34:04 722/5937 636/3612 121 46:17

For any american, the date September 11, 2001, or simply 9/11 will always have significance. Whenever the date is mentioned in conversation, inevitably, a story will follow. The story recipient will have one ear sifting the incoming data following the story into their brain, while the other parts will be unearthing their own story of where they were, who they knew, and how the date has impacted their life since then.



Without delving too deeply, I have worked in Manhattan since 1998. My office is three blocks from the WFC site, and my daily commute typically led me through the trade center to and from the PATH tubes to and from NJ. When the first plane hit at 8:47am, I should have been somewhere in the process of detraining and walking through Ground Zero underneath the Trade Center Towers. But not this 9/11. For the first time in three years, (and not since) I was assigned to cover a bank in New Brunswick, NJ starting 9/10. Meaning I was near Rutgers University, and 50 miles south of NYC on 9/11. The closest I got was watching TV like most everyone else. That is until I returned home to Chatham, and could personally see the billowing smoke from the tower remnants 24 miles east of the house. My family was amongst the luckiest of the lucky, and I will always remember that.

Less than a week later, race organizers were vacillating whether to cancel the Philadelphia Distance Run in Philadelphia, PA 100 miles to the south. Perhaps taking a cue from the NFL, on Friday they declared the race was a go. Back in 2001 I had only run three or so 15K or 10 mile races, never a half marathon, even in training. My best ten mile time was about 77 minutes or a 7:45 pace.

Heather and I hopped in the car Saturday midday for the two hour drive down to the Doubletree and race headquarters inCenter City Philadelphia. No kids, no sitters, no bike, no transition zone, and worries only about our friends affected by the tragedy.

Packet pickup was a breeze, and Heather and I meandered around Center City toward Rittenhouse Square in the late afternoon. We find a cozy little Italian place for dinner and then walk back to the Doubletree for an early nite. The weather was cool in the 50s and the forecast was for 50s and a high in the 60s for Sunday morning. Downtown Philadelphia is actually a small town, bordered by the Delaware River to the east, the Schuykill River to the West, I 676 to the north. South philly wanders all the way down to the old VET, now Lincoln Financial Field or "The Linc", and the FU-Wachovia-whomever is buying that bank soon to be renamed basketball hockey stadium. When walking Center City the line from fine at Rittenhouse Square to over the line into south Philly sketchiness is a blurry one, but usually marked by broken auto glass.


The race route circles Center City west to east passing the Delaware River "Penn Landing" area and then heads west up the Schuykill, crosses over at mile 8 and then screams back down past the 30th st station to the finish. If you have PR half marathon race dreams, this course gives you every opportunity to realize them.

Race morning I hop out of the bed at 6am sharp, into the bathroom, and head down to the hotel lobby. There is a race breakfast set up, and I am off to the starting area. I love these races where you are already there, reducing transit time and worry time. Heather will sleep in, check out and meet me at the finish in three hours of so.

The PDR is one of the most popular halfs on the east coast. Therefore the race is generally 7,000-10,000 entrants. I arrive early and line up at 7:15, for an 8am guntime to ensure a speedy send off. I have to pee, but I elect to wait and not lose my positioning.

Pat Croce, the larger than life GM of the 76ers give some solid pep talk and hands over the mike to the race announcers. Without fanfare, he asks for quiet. He ask a second time and then he starts reading a race number, a city/state location, and then a name. He repeats the process many times. At first runners are looking at each other, and then one by one it hits people, and the silence becomes more silent. Before he finishes most all understand. These runners may not be physically running today, but everyone of them will be running the course with us. The national anthem starts and the tears are streaming down the faces of everyone including me. The sheer energy, resolve, and determination of the collective is overpowering. At the gun the mass jets forward at a breakneck pace. We cross mile 1 passing the Penns Landing area at 6:12 pace and no one is slowing down. I spot several guys peeing on a hillside wall area. I pause for 45 second to unload and collect myself. Emotions or not, this pace is nuts!! I reenter the throng and cross mile two right at 14 minutes. OK this may be sustainable.

I am still worried about pacing, but as the miles stream by, I am able to hold up, as many others are stripped away yielding some running room. I befriend a cute brown haired girl running my pace. She tells me she is running for her sister-in-law. I know she knows I know that she is not talking about "losing her" to an illness, or even an accident. I say I will run for her too. We are flying. We cross the halfway mark at 6.55 miles at a solid 46:17.

At mile 8 we cross the Schuykill bridge and I find I have been so focused discovering her story I feel no pain or effort. At mile 10 she is gassed and tells me to go. I hesitate. She looks at me hard and says go again, so I do. To this point I have no plans for a final time or a plan. I am just running in the moment and thinking about how fragile life is.

At mile 11 runners around me are well spaced out and the road is open. I am tired but feeling good. I keep my pace and am passing more now. A mile to go and I am still feeling good to go. Before I know it I hit the tape in 1:33:40. The time is good but cannot do the math. I have run an even split race with a 1:47 2nd half split and finishing in the top sixth or top 16% in age group and overall and a 7:04 pace. This PDR stacks up with one of my best finishes ever and I am not sure why I have never returned here since.

I spot Heather and grab a hug and an orange. We hit the hotel, check out and walk to our car. The runners are still streaming by but I can only see the runners that are 100 miles away from the finish line buried in rubble. Heather and I make a great stop in New Hope, PA for lunch and reflect on the experience. Yes this has and is the best distance run I have ever completed. Yes I am now an endurance athlete racer and have the mental confidence to conquer greater and longer challenges. and Yes, I will never forget 9/11 and the PDR will always be a part of my story.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

IM LOUISVILLE RACE REPORT







Thursday August 28th 2008.

“Where is the Alvin and the Chipmunks CD? The kids need their movie!! 13 hours in the car and no Alvin is not a good thing!” Do you at least have the Mr. Bean’s Holiday?” Heather is peppering me with kiddie DVD questions. This is the last thing I need right now while trying to locate my backup goggles, my non-wetsuit speedsuit and my sandals and I can’t find my Cliff Blocks. I bought a box of Cliff Blocks and they are no where to be found! The lack of Blocks will crop up later on the bike portion! I am athlete number 1417, and this is my IRONMAN RACE STORY.

Packing 10am. . . .What I thought was an organized process has now fallen apart. I spent two days compiling an extensive list broken down by swim bike, run, nutrition, hydration, pre-race post race, and leisure time needs. I now find myself stressed to no ends. Once we hit the road to Kentucky from New Jersey anything that is left behind will have to be obtained through other means or done without . . . .

Today has already been a big day. Last nite Josh had his big 5th birthday party at the bowling alley with 20 5 year olds. He did nearly bowl a strike leaving the ten pin wobbling! We then enjoyed a big dinner with Nana, Grandmommy, Granddad Ted and Aunt Pat to round out the party. IT takes all my will power to not snarf a cupcake or icing from the Oreo cake. It seems like I am always hungry now!

Today started at 5:30 with breakfast and then a quick hour bike ride to make sure all the kinks are worked out prior to packing the bike . .Check, I return and the kids are up and watching cartoons. I fix some juice and cereal and change Lukie’s diaper and bring him down to watch TV too in his high chair. It is now 8am and the yard needs mowing. I won’t be home for 10 days and the neighborhood snob factor demands a manicured yard!. I leave today and then Heather, Nana, and baby Luke are headed to the Jersey shore. Josh, Quinn, mom and dad are headed to West Virginia with me to drop off my truck and then take the minivan and trailer the rest of the way to Louisville. Our ETA is 3pm Friday in order for me to hit packet pickup and then the 4pm pre-race briefing.

But first Josh has a 11am doctor’s appt so he can attend school on September 7th. Heather, Luke and I take Josh and I implore Mom and Dad and Quinn to hit the road with the trailer so I can catch up.

The appt. goes fine and by 11:30 Josh and I are on the road. I call Dad. They have not left Chatham yet. Josh and I make a quick stop at the bank for fundage. An hour later we approach Easton, PA and the cell phone rings. “You are not going to like this,” says Heather . . .my mind starts spinning with possibilities . . .Luke to the ER? Did I forget my race wheels? What? “You left Josh and Quinn’s luggage here . . .. Snap! Should I turn around? Hmmnn That would take two hours . .Can Heather meet me half way on I-78 losing only one hour? Then I hear, “Stop at a Target and get some clothes and swim trunks for them” Good thinking, first disaster averted . I said first . . . .

WEST VIRGINIA 4pm

A quick stop for gas sends Josh off with Mom and Dad to Martinsburg, WV, where we would consolidate to one car for the duration of the trip. I stop in Carlisle, PA with a positive yield of three WaWa soft pretzels for the race bag, and clothes at Target for Josh and Quinn. As we enter WV the hilly mountains are scenic even in the rain! After a brief but pleasant visit with Laura Miller and the Miller dog Sadie, we drive into the remnant rains of Hurricane Gustav .toward Weston, WV where we spend the nite after a Mcdonalds dinner. (Daddy they have a PLAYLAND here, reminds three year old Quinnie. I promise him we will stop on the way home. For dinner I wolf down a couple of plain hamburgers! Dad springs for two Quality rooms at the Quality Inn, so he and Mom can get some sleep and I can get kicked by Quinn all nite and told not to forget about PLAYLAND!

FRIDAY AUGUST 29, 2008

Friday morning we are up at 6am to ensure an ontime arrival. A quality continental breakfast of coffee, frosted flakes, Fruity Loops (off brand) Trix yogurt and we are on the road. At noon, we arrive 30 miles east of Louisville, in LaGrange, KY the site of the bike spectator area. The town is Mayberry, USA or Lincoln, Ill or any other small town with the RR running down the center of Main Street. We grab a lunch and preview the site line where Team Tim will be set up for the bike and moonbouncing portion of the race. Team Tim then drives into Louisville on the last 30 miles of the 112 bike route to the Galt House providing a preview for the ride into T2.

Louisville Galt House – “Winner-Winner Chicken Dinner!” 2pm

We roll down Muhammad Ali drive to the Ohio River front Galt House. The boys are punchy after the car trip and Dad needs to secure parking for the van and trailer. I go to check in and leave Mom with Josh and Quinn running circles around the lobby.

At check in, they are sold out of the junior suites I reserved. Instead of taking an available smaller room, the receptionist eyes the two kids and offers me a one bedroom apt at no additional charge. Why not?! After another half hour of checking with her manager, she can’t get it for me . . . .I am getting a little impatient as I only have 45 minutes to get through packet pickup and hit the 4pm pre-race mandatory race briefing.

She then asks if I would mind a two bedroom apt instead . . .Do bears poop in the woods?
Only the maids haven’t cleaned it yet so more waiting. Dad shows up and takes Josh to tour the pool as mom waits in the lobby for the room. I am off to packet pickup with Quinn, leaving Mom to wait for the room.

Race registration Jitters 3pm

Upon entry to registration I am asked to stop by the medical booth. I am measured, weighed, and given a body fat analysis. I come in at 179 lbs of which 58% is water and at 12% body fat. I am told I am underhydrated and that 60% is the minimum level, so drink, drink, drink! Like the bottles I have been filling with urine during the whole drive here weren’t enough hydrating!

Quinn and I enter the hall “look at the Blue Maze daddy!” to go through packet pickup process. I am instructed about “the bags” Blue for bike, red for run. That is a blue bag for bike clothes, another blue bag for bike food, and the same for the run clothes and food. Preparation of food and clothes are almost as vital a component of IM as training

Quinn manages to only spill one bottle of water on a registration official as we navigate the gauntlet of ID checks, emergency contact #s, and acquisition of freebies. At IRONMAN the shirt and hat are only provided upon finishing the race so the “bag of stuff” is sparse. We are expelled into the general population of the expo and the vendors and bike repair area.

Quinn and I cruise back to the lobby to check in on the crew to discover our room is now ready. We venture up to Galt House 1243 to home for the next three days. The fact that 1243 is rock star approved is understating it. 2000 square feet is understating it. Two bedrooms, a full kitchen, dining room, and living room with panoramic views of the Ohio River rocks out. Not to mention the computer, bike, and laundry rooms. Josh and Quinn waste no time expelling some pent up energy running laps around the rooms and I set down my expo bags. And depart for the one hour mandatory pre-race briefing.

We are lectured by several Ironman officials and Head referee Jimmy Riccitello about rules violations especially drafting on the bike. Lance Watson, a Lifetime fitness coach then speaks at length about pacing in the water, the saddle and the run and then nutrition and hydration. As race day turns out to be 92 degrees his words of wisdom ring true and I find myself heeding much of his sageness. The Q+A yields one major issue for yours truly . ..83 degrees ,. . . Ouch!! That is the temp of the Ohio river. .. I know my back of the pack swimming fate before I hear the collective groans emanating from the gallery . . . .No wetsuits!! For us poorer swimmers that is one of the great equalizers that is now negated. I have a contingency plan by purchasing a permitted DeSoto Speedsuit but I know that my swim time just took a 15 min hit!

Pre-Race Banquet AKA (mass chow ripoff) 6pm

Good concept in theory. Convention center mass produced chicken, pasta and Ice Tea advertised as free for the athletes and then soak your family for $30 a head. Even worse in theory when you factor in a 5 and 3 year old that will eat only the white bread dinner rolls and hate the Tea after insisting they will drink it and you wait in the drink line 10 minutes to get it while missing much of the inspirational video that you are too far away to see anyway . . .. The highlight of the banquet is the “Biggest Loser” IM style. How many of you have lost 50 lbs training for this race? 50 or so people stand up. By the time the announcer gets to 100 lbs only a handful are left. Then at 160 lbs one man is left standing. He lopes up to the stage and announces that he weighed in yesterday at 165lbs. Holy crap, he has lost himself!? .He is awarded some kind of health weight analyzer machine or something. By now Josh has announced he has to poop and we are off to the restrooms. The lock does not work on the stall so I weigh my options with letting Josh’s privacy go and accept his howling, or to hold the door and let Quinn squirt all the foam hand soap out onto the sink and floor into a big foam Fox in Socks like trouble liquid bubble puddle. I chose the puddle and secure Josh’s stall. We then hightail it back to the Galt House 1243 palace to pack some Bike and Run gear bags and inspect the Cervelo red rocket before bedtime.

The boys and mom are sequestered, with Sponge Bob and Clive Cussler respectively and Dad and I settle down in the computer slash bike shop rooms. I sort out my clothes and set to work cleaning the bike. It is dirty! I am polishing with the baby wipes, (Hey Luke is hear in spirit!) As I am cleaning the brake pads and rims I notice “it”. I feel it again with my forefinger, I know it. Yes a slight rip and bulge in my sidewall of the rear tire. My lucky race never ever changed before race wheel tires. Shit! My mind races . .can I make it through 112? When did this happen? Does it matter?

I recall a rock being bounced off my bike complements of bro –in-la Jason on our last training ride a week ago in Sparta, NJ. (Incidentally, its these rolling hills that mimic the bike route so well that contribute to a great bike on raceday!) I consult dad and we come up with the plan. Get up early and hit the Bike tech services and have them fix it while we hit the zoo with the kids.

SATURDAY AUGUST 30, 2008

In bed 3AM – Ooww! Damn it Quinn quit kicking me! I scan over to the other double bed where Josh is spread out like Leonardo’s geometric man representing the symmetry of a circle. Should I hit the sofa? Isn’t this the nite that is most critical for sleeping? We sleep in until 7:30 and Dad, Josh and I hit the club room mini breakfast. Mom and Quinn are sleeping in . . .well yeah! he is tired after his Tae kwan Do routine all nite!

Josh announces that not only does the clubroom breakfast bar not have pancakes, but no Fruit Loops either! He is quickly placated by Frosted Flakes, and the promise of room service pancakes when we return. I run into a late 40s athlete Roseann Dougherty from Glenwood, MD who has competed at Eagleman and Chessieman with me. (She goes on to finish Louisville in just under 13 hours) She is planning on returning to Chessie next month . .I wish her good luck and tell her she is awesome!

We return to the palace and give mom her coffee as her Pavlovianlike caffeine response kicks in. Quinn is up, has peed, and has settled in for cartoons with Lambie, the lamb blanket. I order the pancakes. The boys eat like two bites each and the rest end up in the fridge. Let see, $16 pancakes, 4 bites, $4 a bite . .. .what value! Freakin rugrats!

I hit the bike expo and drop off the rocket. The bike tech crew here is amazing. I had packed a spare tire and several spare tubes. They promise it is to be fixed by noon and tell me to relax. They also look at my poorly jury rigged handle bar tape and promise to do something with it they call “tape the tape.!

THE ZOO 10am The rest of the morning is comprised of the Louisville zoo. The Snow Leopard and albino alligator are the highlights! The lowlight was the cab ride to the zoo. We passed a McDonald’s Playland so wanna guess where lunch was? Fortuantely for me and Pops, there is a Panera Bread across the street. I nosh on a turkey sammie and apple while the kids played and ignored their nuggets sand fries. Upon return to the hotel it is apparent that most of the athletes elected to practice swim or go for a bike ride, instead of taking in the zoo. Aha, but they did not see an albino alligator, nor score a soft pretzel with xtra salt! Advantage Allison!

My Aunt Ginger and Uncle Ron are in from St Louis, and I drop the rugrats with them in the suite, send pops off with a grocery list and I hit the bike expo with my bags to rack the bike and check in my gear bags. My practice ride consists of the half mile ride to the Waterfront Park balances my bags on my handlebars and making sure the brakes and wheels are spinning right. I tour the transition area with an extremely helpful Billy Bob Thornton dude. I get the lay of the land and my route during T1 and T2 in and out. Better yet, I walk by the Joe’s Crab Shack and get a reservation for dinner.

At the palace the kids are running again and it is time to hit the pool. I take the boys and meet several race volunteers and chat about which aid station they will be working. Rick and Sue are at run station 7 at the turnaround point. I should be able to remember what she looks like, but maybe not in my low bloodsugar condition and the fact she will be way more covered up as well.

We head to Joe’s for dinner at 5:30, a nice walk down the Ohio River from the Galt. We somehow get seated next to two Batchelorette parties AKA bluegrass bettys carbo loading for their own nocturnal activities. Not ideal with Moms and the Aunt, but Josh is quick to roll crayons under their table to permit introductions with some members of Amber’s Entourage. That’s my boy Joshie! The pasta and grilled shrimp is average but I am not out to chow down tonite anyhow. After dinner, the boys and I stroll back to the suite and down for an early to bed at 8:30. The day of reckoning is now 8 hours away.

While we are still on the subject of food, my friend Ryan wanted me to compile a list of all eats before and during the race so here it is.

Saturday Pre-race August 30th Food Intake

Breakfast
Yogurt Blueberry,
Caffe Latte Ensure 350 calorie meal drink ,
Granola skim milk,
OJ,
Coffee,
Water 24 0z,
4 Thermolyte electrolyte tablets.

Morning Snacks
Water 40 oz
Gatorade 20 oz
Soft Pretzel mustard (50 g Carbs and salt)

Lunch
Turkey sandwich from Panera, no bread
Apple,
20 oz water.

Snack
Peanuts and Cheez Its (salt and some non-sat fat but not ideal fare),
Busch NA beer,
20 oz water.

Dinner
Bud lite 12 oz,
40 oz water,
Penne pasta over marinera, 4 shrimp.

Sunday Race-day Food Intake

Breakfast at 4:15 am

OJ
Coffee
Caffe Latte Ensure 350 calorie meal drink x 3 (1000 calories)
Granola and skim milk
Hard boiled egg with xtra salt
Blueberry bagel with margarine
20 oz Accerlerade

5:15 am 12 oz water

6:15 am power gel and 12 oz water

7:15 am “In the water”

Lunch 9:15 am “on the bike” until 4pm

20 oz endurance formula Gatorade – x 6
20 oz water x 5
power gel – x3 @ 200 calories each
Cliff Shot blocks x 2 @ 200 calories each
WaWa soft pretzel @ 45 g carbs
Snickers Marathon Bar (330 calories)
20 Thermolyte electrolyte tablets @ 3 per hour

Dinner “on the run” 4:30 pm- 9pm

lots of cups of water
lots of cups of Gatorade
3 cups of Coke
pretzels stick x 10
2 nutter butter cookies
orange slices x 4
6 Thermolyte electrolyte tablets one per every two miles 11-20

SUNDAY RACE DAY AUGUST 31st

4:15am
I wake up five minutes before the alarm. I slept well. I sneak out leaving the boys to sleep as long as possible. I start breakfast as described above. I pass the time reading Triathlete and get my mind right for the day as I pound my Ensures. Staying calm is important. More important is focusing on the moment. Today is about concentrating on the immediate effort and gauging the results. How are you feeling? Is this effort sustainable? How is your technique? Worrying about other athletes or your time to date is disaster. You cannot control that. What you can control is your effort and your body. When the conditions are hot and hazy like today, managing your body’s intake, the feelings of exertion and your body’s ability to withstand and dissipate heat is crucial to a positive race result.

At 5:15 am Dad comes in and grabs a fresh coffee. I do my bathroom duty and off we go with my food bags for the Lawn and T1. I am not nervous, but am excited taking in all the athletes around me. T1 is its usual bundle of nerves and anxiety augmented by the director on the PA system telling us not to be nervous but to hurry and line up for the swim start a mile away. I pump the tires up, check my food stash on the bike and am hit up by the many pump borrowers. I submit my Special needs bags, and do not pay much thought to the harried look on the volunteers face as she drops my bag on the ground and the fact she is not walking it to my numbered pile. I bid adieu to Dad, hand him my pump and am off in the semi-dark to the swim start at the Tumbleweeds Dock.

6:50am – THE SWIM

Body marking is done, and I walk back through the darkness to find the line end. Fans and family cannot help getting in the way, while nervous athletes crouch, squat or sit in line, similarly to waiting for tickets at a concert. I find the end, and befriend a tall lean 32 year old from San Diego. Brian Hoyt is in his first 140.6 his race number is lucky as it his area code, (519) can u say Reggie Bush?. Brian hopes for a 12 hour finish, and I tell him my goal is the same. It is all about pacing and managing heat on the run. My Eagleman experience looms large in my mind. Speaking of Eagleman, Roseann and another female athlete are line up right behind me and we all chat to pass the time. I am sitting on the pavement trying to relax, when yet another fan tries to forge a path through us. I shoot an annoying glance and then realize the perpetrator is none other than Jimmy Riccitello the Head Referee. The girls joke that I am already down two minutes for “blocking” or “obstruction.” I put on a big smile and thumbs up and Jimmy squeezes by. We then hear the anthem and move up as the pros jump in the water for their mass start. We are all going to jump off a boat pier one at a time after crossing the timing mat. The idea is to spread out the swimmers to reduce the full contact swim start so prevalent at other IM races.

At 7am the first age groupers jump in. I zip up my DeSoto speedsuit, which should help with my mental state if not the physical state. I jump in and pee and set off. The sun is in our eyes as we head east up the Ohio River. On the plus side, I am to the right side of the channel and am not getting kicked. Minus, I am not taking the most direct route costing some time I do not have. The starting 1500 yards are in a protected side stream with an island blocking us from the main channel. Swimmers charge by me, but I knew this would happen and am not too worried. Finally I emerge to the main river and spot the turnaround buoy! Time check 40 minutes! Whoa, kinda slow amigo! Let’s get going! Timoteo, cuadado, stick to the here and now!

Stroking down river reminds me of the Chessieman Choptank swim. There are two big bridges a mile downstream to sight off of. I permit my natural “veer” to steer me out toward the shipping channel in hopes of catching some faster currents. At least that is what Lance Watson advised in the pre-race meeting. I am out here with a few adventurous souls but most are hugging the island on the direct route. Not sure if this strategy is working but I focus on the here and now. Stretch, pull, glide, breathe, stretch, pull glide, breathe. The cheap ass swim cap we were given rides up on my head and I tug at it to reduce any drag, perceived or not. Tim, focus!! I am on a good pace now, and trying to maximize my glide. After forever, I swim underneath the bridge and am angling toward the buoys and the shoreline. I am now back in the mix with other athletes and I try and draft where I can. (especially on the feet of the females!)

Having taken in the zoo on Saturday, and not the swim course, I am not too sure where the exit ramp is in relationship to the bridges. I do not want to get caught way out in the channel near the exit, despite the fact we were told that the Coast Guard has frozen shipping traffic until 10am! At the swim exit I feel good, not overexerted. I also spy the clock and see 2:15. OMG!! Even subtracting the 15 minutes and the ten minutes from the pros that is a 1:45 swim leg. .. Tim get with the program! You may have lollygagged a bit too much out there! OK, let’s have a quick transition. I am officially out in 1:46:22 or 1843 out of 1975 finishers and 299 out of 320 age groupers. Ouch! Nuff said.


TOTAL SWIM
2.4 mi. (1:46:22)
2:47/100m
1843 out of 2100 Race Place
299 out of 320

Transition 1 – 7:25 Where’s my straw?

I spot Mom in the crowd and stop for a quick hug right under the race banner. I then hear Dad and see the video cam and I am running into T1. I hit the changing tent and am efficient stripping off the suit, the swim cap and donning bike gear. The grass is muddy and wet. I carefully put on my socks and shoes and helmet and hit the sunscreen. I head to my stall and note that there are still a decent number of bike left but not as many as expected. Tim let’s not dwell on the swim. F ocus on the here and now. At my bike I start to pull out to the exit. Shit, where is my aero drink straw? DING DING DING, you put it in your helmet last nite like Normann Stadler, so it would not get poached overnight. Remember? Well it’s not in there now! It must be in the changing tent. Hmmnn, can I make it 112 without a straw? Hell no! Tim, take a minute and get your straw ya big dummy! I circle back, find my chair, and spot my straw on the ground. Back to the bike, with muddier shoes, and a lost two minute but well worth it. I still transition in 7:25, not too bad and I am biking.

9:15 am THE BIKE and Louisville Horse Country

Coming out of T1, I cautiously spin and set out my strategy for the next 112 miles. Be humble, don’t get caught up passing, and eat and drink on schedule. Cargo check, on board the Cervelo Rocket I have an aero nest and Bento box full of; half soft pretzel, a Snickers Marathon Bar, baggie of salt tabs, two packs of Cliff Blocks, powerbar, three gels, an aero drink full of Accelerade, a frozen 20oz Gatorade, and a bottle of water. I also have a drink bottle full of wrench, a flat fixit patch kit, tire levers, a couple of $1s. Attached on my carbon wing, I have two intertubes, and two Co2s, bump, clink, clink, clink, the girl I am passing looks desperately at her chain and back tire. Scratch that, one Co2 cartridge as the bump just bounced out my backup. Guess the velcro straps need some work. I reach back and pull in the remaining Co2 and pop it in my bike jersey for safer keeping.

FIRST BIKE SEGMENT
22.5 mi (1:21:38)
16.54 mph

The bike route is a long 20 mile pull upriver into horse country. The route then contains an up and back finger traversing a creek bed. The course then continues to traverse the creek through a two loop course through LaGrange where the main spectators are stationed and we shoot through at mile 38 and 68. My crew is to be there too along with the face painting, the moon bounce, and the picnic provisions.

Heading up the hills I am eating my solid food stash first. That is the Snickers, and the pretzel. I notice I am passing some cyclists, albeit slower ones, but this is something that rarely occurs on my shorter races such as the flat course of Eagleman. Am I going out too fast? No, my avg. is just 17 or so I am not exactly tearing it up here. OK. We are climbing a bit though but I feel good, and recall what Scott Molina says, when you feel good, “Eat! And then eat somemore”! We make the turn up the finger and I recall from registration that watch out for the creek bottom as there is a bad pothole in our lane.

The ride to the creekbed is our first major descent of the day. I pull out to pass, then pull out to the center line to pass riders passing riders. I am only going 38 but the road is a bit narrow and people are wary as I whip around a corner. I hear a “slow down ambulance”! Ah, that is why people are slowing down! I brake from 40 to 10mph rapidly, and sure enough, there is an ambulance blocking the road and 4 or 5 bikes piled up with several riders in the ditch . . .. What is worse is that no EMTs are walking up around the blind curve to forewarn other riders of the pending stoppage. I maneuver around the ambulance at 10 mph and look back at the gaggle of riders behind me. I am safely by and out of there. We head up from the creek and the uphill is a mile or so long and takes its toll. I am passing a few as the descending riders coming at us from the turnaround whip down the hill. I have just figured out the key to this race. Descend like hell to carry speed up the hills. Albeit be on the lookout for ambulances!!

SECOND BIKE SEGMENT
21.4 mi (1:21:43)
15.71 mph

I adhere to my new strategy and hammer it on the downhills spinning out in my 53-12 chainring until I hit 36-38 mph and then coast in a aero tuck to pass. I manage to shoot far up the hills passing many riders that are spinning a low gear at 10mph or slower. I can generally get near the top before resorting to my 39-25 granny . .. .

I shoot through LaGrange at mile 38 and don’t see my posse. On the far outskirts of town I finally spot Dad’s straw hat and holler at him. I have to trust that the rest of the crew is there as I am now gone for another 30 miles. The next segment of the race has many rolling hills and I stick to my hammer it strategy, resting my legs on the flatter parts in an easier 53-17 gear.

Midday – My Missing Muesette
By mile 60 on our second loop I am nearly out of chow, and craving my special needs bag full of pretzels, fritos, and more salt tabs. I have been wolfing them down at 4 tabs an hour and am nearly out of them already. I have not stopped to pee since the swim, but feel that I am drinking plenty considering I am reloading a water and Gatorade at each water stop.

As I approach the mile 66 feed zone, volunteers call out your number on the walkie-talkie and instruct riders to pull into the spot by the food bag piles. For me this is the far end of the tent to the 1400-1500 numbered area. As I come to a stop and dismount, a volunteer calls 1417, bag! As far as I can see, no one is looking for my bag I look at volunteer boy. He says be patient, and yells in his microphone again, 1417 bag. Nothing happens. I am thinking, why don’t you go look for it? Apparently, Joe Nascar’s job is limited to yelling in the walkie-talkie. I spot a teenage kid and yell at him, “Can you find bag 1417!” He looks at me, and then, Joe Nascar yells, find 1417! The kid scampers off like a wounded dog. As I sit there, all my work on the hills passing bikes unwinds itself. After another minute (AKA an eternity) the kid reappears, and starts to say that he can’t find the bag. I shout “Godammit!!!” much like Maca (Chris McCormack) when he could not secure his chinstrap in T1 prior to chasing down Stadler and Chris Lieto to take Kona last October 2007.

I then fix an icy glare at Joe Nascar and ride off in a huff. Two riders nearby instantly offer me there gels as support. I hate gels and wave them off. I also figure I can get them at the water stops. Besides, I need to sulk for a few minutes. I ride through LaGrange whining to myself, and fail to see my posse that has moved to the Court House steps for a better view of me. As I leave town I fail to see them again and know that I won’t see anyone until T2 45 miles away still!

THIRD BIKE SEGMENT
30.5 mi (1:51:55)
16.35 mph

At mile 75 this is my second low point of the day. OK, I need to rally. 45 miles to go, or 2 and a half hours to go. That would get me in a shade under 7 hours. Shade, what shade? I haven’t seen any for hours! OK, seriously, let’s reassess what nutrition I do have onboard and what I should grab at the aid stations. OK, two and a half gels, and eight salt tabs. Ok, one gel an hour, more Gatorade, less water, and three salt tabs will get me into T2. Then hopefully I can mooch some on the run until I get to my special needs food bag at mile 12.

On the second loop I am now familiar with the course and that helps. I am more aggressive on the downhills and continue passing riders. I load up on some gels at the 85 mile aid station and set off up the last major climb. This climb is steady with a sharp pitch at the end. I am spinning along at 10mph and am marking a dude in front of me pushing a big gear and barely ticking the pedals over. Can you say quad disaster on the run? As we both hit the pitch up he starts to go slower and slower and I am thinking, he better shift down! Then right in front of me I see his bike lean to the right, he is now a listing ship and boom! Down he goes, fully clipped in to his pedals bouncing off his hip into a nearby bush. Ouch! I spot a couple of fans picnicking under a tree, and they start laughing at him. Poor guy, I see the guy’s face as I pass and he is OK, but not moving either. He is gassed. That is mile 85 in a nutshell. Many of these athletes simply haven’t trained this far. In fact I only have ridden 85 or more 6 times in my life with four of those in the past year.

FINAL BIKE SEGMENT
37 mi (2:08:59)
17.21 mph

I crest the hill and start the 25 mile march back to town paralleling the Ohio River. The pitch is mostly downhill with a couple of rollers and I am definitely faster. In fact, some dolt with a horse trailer is putt putt putting along finding it hard to pass riders on the two lane. I joke with several riders if Ref Jimmy would site us for drafting behind a horse trailer? On the next downhill we line up and pull out and stream pass the trailer at about 35 mph. The trailer is lucky if he is hitting 25mph. We are gone! The rest of the ride is uneventful and simply a countdown to 112. I actually do have to stop and pee once and need to stop again as we approach T2. I am starting to lose electrolytes. I don’t stop and will go in T2. I am generally feeling OK. No twinges in the legs and no more tiredness than I should feel after 112 miles and 6 + hours under 90 degree sun. I refrain from eating much the last 20 minutes to clear my GU track for the run transition. Those of you that know me will recall this is always my downfall, cramping up coming out of T2. I hit the town and hope to see my family this time around. At the dismount line, I leave my shoes in the pedal clips and bounce off the rocket, handing it to a volunteer in T2 and actually run down the chute to collect my run bag clothes. I am moving Man I gotta pee!

TOTAL BIKE
112 mi. (6:44:15)
16.62 mph
1368 of 1975 Aggregate Race Place
220 of 320

In looking at the bike time, if you were not here you might think it is a slow split. For some people, maybe it is , but I am now moving up to 1368 from 1843 after the swim and up 79 spots my age group to 220. I have improved roughly 500 spots on the field and gotta take that!. A solid bike leg for me by feel, and validated relative to the field. Running has always been my strength! So let’s see what I have left in the tank.

I quickly change my shirt, and am psyched I packed a change of socks. I don my shoes, my glasses and visor and am off. I head for the port –o-let. However, check out the cute volunteer with the spray on sun screen . .Gotta stop for that! I get screened say thanks, and hit the let. Sooey! That is stinky!

I am out and running around the tent and out of T2. Time check is 6:25. Solid transition. I stop for ice and oranges right away and think to my run strategy. OK, anytime you feel your temples pulsing you stop and walk. Anytime you feel excessive sweating and no cooling you stop. Eat but do not overeat. Cool, let’s rock!

I spot Uncle Ron, and he yells that the kids are in the river fountain swimming. I miss them again but am heartened that they are near. I am jogging and checking my stomach for early warning signs of cramping. I cross the 2nd avenue bridge through mile 2 at about 10 minute pace. Not great but if I can average 10s I am in the clubhouse with a 4:20 run marathon. I’ll take that. But, at mile 3 the first twinges of cramps echo up from within. At the next aid station I stop to walk, and burp and grab sponges with ice. I insert ice in my tri shorts and create manboobs with sponges and ice those as well. I pour cold water on my head and off I go. I hit mile 4 where the second loopers at mile 13 join us. There are not too many of them. I see the 3rd , 4th and 5th place women steaming in at mile 24. Some men are trickling in but not too many. The heat is the only one winning today.

FIRST RUN SEGMENT
4 mi. (41:27)
10:21/mile

At mile 6 I learn that the Louisville Cardinal football team is not winning either. UK is kicking their ass all over the place. We have been rerouted away from the stadium but can hear the crowds. It is 5:30pm now and the local cops appear to respond with less enthusiasm at stopping cross traffic than is warranted. Most be UL Card fans. Be watchful Tim!! I am running alone in a sea of walkers and I need to pee. I also need some salt! I start munching pretzels sticks. The flour is an energy boost and the salt helps. I am walking the water stops eating pretzels and drinking Gatorade.

I am still running between the stops and much of the field around me is now in walk mode. At mile 6, I am even passing most of the remaining runners. I am determined to cowboy through just as I have my doors blown off by a stud marine looking guy, easily 6’6” and hauling the mail. Wow, he looks good! It is a long straight shot to the turnaround at mile 8 and he rapidly disappears from view. What is more disheartening is that the second loop mile signs follow your first loops signs by about 100 yards. So it is hard to feel good about mile 7 when you see mile 19 following it and realize how far you still have to go! I keep chugging along and am still on pace for a 4:20-4:30 finish. My hopes for a PR of 12:50 are hanging in the balance. I hear a go Tim and turn and see Rick from the Galt House pool manning the ice sponge bucket. Yo, help a brother out!

SECOND RUN SEGMENT
4.3 mi. (44:39)
10:23/mile

Right after the turnaround I spot Joe Marine doubled over by the side of the road. Can you say fountains of Gatorade! Full blow Technicolor fountains. .. and that my friends is why you do not tear it up too early in an IRONMAN marathon. I do not see him again on this day!

I befriend a female running my pace and chat her up a bit. Her husband had a minor crash on his bike but is still in the race according to his folks. She is nervously looking for him coming up behind us. I am hopeful for her and I also discover she has salt tabs!! She shares some with me. I am feeling pretty weak now and find it is harder to start running again after each aid station. I am now ten miles in and have to hope my body finds some fuel and quick. I hope that between the salt tabs and the pretzels I can hold out to pick up my aid bag at mile 12.

THIRD RUN SEGMENT
4.15 mi. (48:46)
11:45/mile

At mile 12 I am scanning for my food but first we pass through the Ford motivational mile. There is loud music, pretty girls in spandex and a computer screen that flashes a personalized message for you from your family. My dad wrote one for me and I find some energy. It is tough out here, but knowing you have support always is a motivator!
I pick up the pace and run to the food zone. This time, my bag is ready and I do not break stride grabbing it. I pick out the fritos, the half pretzel and two nutter butter cookie, but best of all salt tabs! Score!

A little soft pretzel and three tabs and I pretty much instantly feel a bit better now. My female buddy needs to go. How soon can I ditch her and pick up the pace without being rude? I chose the next aid station. She stops to walk and I power through grabbing some pretzels and rade. I am motoring past runners now.

FOURTH RUN SEGMENT
3.5 mi. (37:23)
10:40/mile

My pace is up the next few miles as I do not walk as evidenced by the split time this segment. I have salt, cookies, WaWa pretzels remnant and fritos? What more could you want? Wait there is 519, Brian Hoyt. He is walking and not looking good. A few days later I check out his finish time and find he did a couple of 27 minute per mile pace. Not good, Luke can crawl at 27 min pace. But Brian does finish in 15 hours and change and is an IRONMAN!

I have a better leg than that and hope for a 4:30 run split is still in reach. I loop through the 13 mile turnaround and the crowd at the finish is a boost. I hear the cheers as a lone finisher hits the tape. I have to head out for a second loop. Within a half mile the support is gone, and I fail to see any of Team Tim supporters. By mile 14 the energy is gone. I try and munch on my pretzel and the stomach is not having it. The fritos are not working either. I am overheating and still 12 miles to go and I am in trouble again. The $110 Rudy Project sunglasses bear the brunt of my wrath and are thrown in a nearby garbage can.

DESPAIR

During miles 15- 17 running is a struggle. I am walking larger chunks now after each aid station. The pretzel is jettisoned, the glasses long gone too. I am thinking any unnecessary weight be gone. I am overheating quickly now and getting scared. Tim, salt, ice, Tim, salt, ice, TIM ICE!!! I am now walking much more. It is hard to force my body to run. I am losing time, but also I am caring less and less about it. Walking feels so good! Nearly everyone around me has also succumbed. No one is running by. It is becoming easier to accept this. Deep down, I know this is wrong, but still I walk.

Unawares by me the race computer has not registered any of my race splits from mile 12 on. I guess the computer also has given up on my race! My dad panics a bit and checks with medical and the race officials for any updates. He is amazed that medical at race central does not have a process to check with medical out on the course. He is also told that if I am sitting taking a break with medical I may not be immediately DQ’ed and would not show up on a medical roster. That is I may be sitting somewhere logging a 27 minute mile and am still in assuming I am not assisted in making forward progress.

My race is in a vacuum from mile 12-24. I wish I had seen Dad at mile 13 to comfort him and me. As my chief pit crew member, he has had to ensure that my boys and mom are taken care of and he needed to escort them to the hotel to cool down and avoid the heat.

At mile 17, I am blown and a male age 37 trots by me. A power bar in each hand and ice water gripped in his teeth. A man with a plan! I force a jog and keep with him. This is Scott’s first 140.6. We jog to the next aid station and hit the ice and Gatorade. I also slam a coke. We mutually agree that we will only walk to the end of the fence a block away and then resume running. This strategy work, we are back running again.

At mile 19 we hit the aid station and I again slam a Gatorade and now 2 Cokes. I will not eat again. I am burping and overheating and the stomach is full and bloated. Scott takes off without me. I tell him I will see him soon. This is it. Mile 19 and change and 3 hours and 45 minutes in. My overall time I calculate at around 13:30 if I can get my act together.

FIFTH RUN SEGMENT
4.3 mi. (52:25)
12:11/mile

HOPE


The PR is gone. Kirk (MY IM ZONA cousin in law)’s 12:48 PR is gone. It is hot, I am done. 14 hours, 15 hours, I can walk in and finish. Give up the ghost and join the walking dead amigo. . .. . But I am still able to calculate race splits. That is encouraging in terms of blood sugar and electrolyte levels. Everyone around me is done, but if I can do math I have a chance. I burp to relieve my stomach. I spot the turnaround OK, here is the new plan. No more food or drink, air out the stomach and let’s run it in. Sounds so simple. If I walk it in 7 miles that is another two hours out here and a 6 hour run split. That my friends is horseshit. I know it you know it. I vow that I will run from the turnaround and not stop until I reach the finish or I am on the side of the road waiting for medical. No walking allowed, even through the water stops. I burp some more and pray the stomach is settling down. The moment of truth is here. Finish in a blaze of glory or limp it in and destroy the memory of the IM experience for years to come.

SIXTH RUN SEGMENT
4.15 mi. (42:55)
10:20/mile

Execute the PLAN

I turn around at mile 20 and start off with a jog. So far so good. At mile 21 I think about a brief walk but instead grab a water and throw it over my head, gargle another one and spit it out. OK. At mile 22 I spy Scott walking. I shout encouragement and motor by. Everyone is walking, no one is jogging, 10, 20, 50, I pass and pass. I do not know my splits, but know I am doing some good. The mile signs are closer together now. I pass the FORD inspirational mile and shoot an imaginary arrow at the board and raise the roof a bit. I get some love from the spandex girls on the microphone and that feels good too! Better yet, at mile 23 the sun starts to set and it is a shade cooler. Tim, let’s go faster! I try but my body wants to slow down and walk . .. NO! You cannot walk! I hit mile 24 and now I believe. Two to go. No walking allowed!! There are fewer people around. Both runners and spectators. Where is everyone?

FINAL RUN SEGMENT
1.8 mi. (17:39)
9:48/mile

I pass a guy in his 60s and tell him that he soon will become an IRONMAN and good luck in KONA! He tells me that he has another 14 miles to go! Oops. Well maybe no KONA but he still should make the 17 hour cutoff. At mile 25 I come up on a girl that is sprinting and then walking. I tell her to hang in there. She too has another whole lap and 13 miles to go. Boy that sucks! OK no talking to other runners now. I hit downtown as darkness falls. It is 8:30pm and I hear the crowd and look for people to pass. The streets of 4th street live are thick with spectators and it is loud. I raise my hands and work the lasso and receive yells and cheers. With 200 yards to go I see the finish. There are two athletes half way there. I cannot catch them. Can I? I sprint now and hear the crowd respond. With 50 meters to go I fly by the two toward the finish.

I look at the clock. 13:56. Maybe a time adjusted 13:25 overall. Man I am slow! I do not yet know how much the heat on the run has decimated the field! My time is slower than ideal but I have passed another 500 athletes overall and 100 in my age group to finish at 124 out of 320. My total time of 4:45 is not that great but will certainly be a top25% within the field overall.

TOTAL RUN
26.2 mi. (4:45:14)
10:53/mile
820 final place of 1975 finishers
124 of 320 age groupers

SWIM 1:46:22 Bike 6:44:15 Run 4:45:14 T1 7:46 T2 6:25 TOTAL TIME 13:30:02

For video of my finish!!

http://www.goactionvideo.com/events/2008%20Ford%20Ironman%20Louisville/1417.wmv

ODDS and the END

I finally am reunited with Josh and Quinn, Dad and Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginger. Mom is back at the hotel already but I am looking forward for a toast and some pizza with her.

My IM Arizona finishing cousin –in-law Kirk finds me on the athlete tracker and calls Dad at mile 24 to tell him that I am almost done. So that is how they all are there at the finish line to greet me!! Yay for Kirk!!

I am pretty out of it at the finish as I seek the convention center with my aunt and uncle to collect my gear and then change into dry clothes. We cannot find where the bags are kept, they are not much help and I am fading fast from the cognitive world! We finally make my way back to the hotel. A cookie helps but I am cold and tired. We order room service pizza and a slice and a beer and I am in bed. My pit boss Dad, has gone to collect my bike and gear and pack in the trailer.

It is a long 14 hours back to the NJ shore with the crew. We do arrive at the NJ shore 24 hours later, Monday at 11pm. Yes for those worried about it, Quinn does engineer (Mountaineer?) a stop for lunch at a McDonald’s Playland in West Virginia on the way. IM Louisville is in the books, and I finished in the top 40% overall and top 40% in my age group of 40-44 year old! Could I have done better? Maybe, but I know deep down within that I gave it everything I had on this day and that has to make you happy! Works for ME!!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

IM Louisville Race Info






Months of eating right . ..


Months of early morning swims, bikes, runs or bricks,


Months of fatigue, soreness, and anxiety . . ..


Five years since "The accident"


Dude, packing is a bitch! What did I forget? My salt tablets? My xtra socks? My spare tire CO2 cartridge?


Am I ready for this? Have I trained enough? Tapered enough? Eaten enough calories n the bike? Too many solids on the bike? How is my sodium level?


Gunning for a 12 hour Ironman finish . .. WORTH IT ALL!!!


Roadrunner!!



Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Baltimore Marathon October 2002

October 2002


There are no race photos . . .or online`race results . . .this is the inaugural running of "Balmer" and these frills simple were not part of the package. Neither are gel or "goo" packs offered on course. I also had never even contemplated a triathlon let alone an IM.

The Baltimore Marathon October 2002 is truly my first foray into the world of endurance racing at 33 years old. The concept of running for 26 miles and hours without your legs falling off or not stopping must be REALLY painful! Here I am working in NYC, stressed out and seeing the same guys on the train day after day, week after week and year after year. Every time I see them, they appear, a little fatter, a little less hair, and a little more of that gleam in their eye is disappearing. I am not going to be one of those guys. Short of an abrupt lifestyle change brought on by a career and geographic change I am going to change. I am going to eat less junk, drink a bit less and run a bit more. I found this race advertised in Runners World and signed up. No buddies, no fanfare, no hyped up Oprah or Katie Holmes race walkers. Just a vanilla marathon in a place where I can drum up some fan support close to my parents home.

I had never run more than 16 mile before raceday, and that only in a completed a 25 K just three weeks prior which I finished in 2 hours flat. Prior to that I had run a couple of 13 mile runs including the kickass Philly Distance Run a year ago a week after 9/11/01 which is a story for another race report!


Thus, with a 26 mile distance, the marathon is a mental game as challenging as the physical hardship or the training leading up to the race. Some say ignorance is bliss, and I certainly fall in this camp. I had witnessed my dad run the Marine Corp Marathon several times and would marvel as he would appear at mile ten on the mall after 75 minutes of racing past the Pentagon, and Georgetown, disappear for an hour to cruise the Capital, reappear at mile 18 and then look like death warmed over climbly the hill at Iwo Jima to the finish. (He did manage a PR race of 3:17, a tad over 7:30s which is uber impressive for any 43 year old!)


But I digress . . . . .Heather and I drive from Chatham, NJ on Friday to Sherwood Forest, Md stopping at the M+T Ravens stadium for packet pickup on the way down on. In 2002, there are no pace groups and the masses are just beginning to get into marathoning so fuss is not that much to do. There realy is not much of an expo in fact, just on the club level at the stadium. In fact 2002 is the Baltimore Marathon debut race, and is not well attended by the pros.


The start and finish are at Ravens Stadium with a run thru Camden Yards at Mile 25. The total race is just about 2000 runners. While I have no idea of a target finish time goal, I do have several other goals in mind, First, finish. Second finish . Third run the whole race sub 4:10 which is (DAD) Ted's marathon debut time back at the St. Mary's, MD marathon. And finally, well yes,`finish!


Friday nite is a carbo loading dinner at "the cottage" with mom and dad and an early to bed. I wake up at 4:30 a minute before the alarm is set for. I stealth out of bed not to wake Heather. Reflecting back after years of racing, I am amazed that I nearly always wake up minutes before my alarm is set for any time between 4 and 6 am. My internal alarm tells me today is the day!


Ted and I depart Sherwood Forest, MD at 6am for the 8am race start at Stadium in the inner harbor of Baltimore. We arrive early, at 6:30, which I like, and park at the Baltimore Federal Reserve across the tracks from the stadium. We then check out the stadium. The weather is chilly at 45 with a high of 55 and ovrcast skies. Many are huddled in warmups and I plan to run in shorts and my Washington Bullets 24 "Googs" jersey in hopes of getting some fan input during the run. I may be a bit cold at the start but adhere to the 20 degree haircut rule. Whatever the temp, dress like it is 20 degrees warmer.


I fall into my familiar hydration and stretching routines that I have developed since high school football. I find this is as much a mental relaxing stretch as for any physical needs. I locate that peaceful state I am looking forward, with a relaxed heart rate down to 80 or so and head off to the start line. Without pacing groups, I get up close to the front so as not to be boxed in by pedestrian runners. Wait am I one of those?


The gun goes off and I am across the line within ten seconds. The air around me is filled with nervous and pent up energy. There is a lot of talking and high hopes being bandied about. I am feeling a bit more scared now. What did I get myself into here? Not only have I never attempted to run for 26 miles or three to four hours I cannot imagine running alone for that time with no one to chat with and no walkman. (Yes the Ipod had not been invented yet). I am panickin ghtatI will go out too fast. I ALWAYS go out too fast from 5Ks to the 7 minute mile at the recent 25 K


I cross mile 1 northbound on Charles St flat at 8 minute pace (OK TIm not too fast OK!!!) and my day takes a turn for the better. The runner next to me spots the jersey and asks if I am a Les Boulez fan am I also a redskins fan? I nod at him and prepare to get back to my race. However, he falls in next to me and keeps with the questions. What is my target pace? What is my time goal? Have a every heard of an ultra race before? . Over the course of the next 20 miles I learn many interesting things about David Grimm. Yes, his little (big) brother is the Hog Russ Grimm of Super Bowl and Pitt Panther fame. David is running under his friends number who pulled out lame and more interestingly, Dave has registered for a 50 mile ultra, tomorrow! this is his training run! Holy craziness!!!


It takes me a while to process all this information of a training marathong run and consider running 50 miles. Actually Dave tells me he incorporates a version of the Galloway strategy. Walk one mile for every three run for a four mile routine. Usually he says he runs for 10 minutes and then walks for one minute trying to keep this up for 50 miles. Six years later as of 2008 with two IMs and five 70.3s under my belt, I understand that ten minutes of running and one minute walking seems to be a common survival strategy onthe run portion of a triathlon, especially in extreme weather.


Dave at 43 years old and ten marathons dispenses lots of advice about pacing and hydration, (nutrition is less a concept as marathon back in 2002!). However, he has data, but I have brought the Balmer race site fan support!


We hit Druid Hill Park at mile 3 and then we circle back south and duck under the Falls Road Expressway for the long southern run back into the inner harbor at the mile 7 mark . Dave cautions me again not to get caught up racing and stick to 8 minute pace even though I feel good and my legs feel fresh.

Despite his prostations and warnings I am like a horse chomping at the bit. We are on a 7:40 pace after mile 7 clocking it just under an hour, and I am feeling good.


At mile 8 I spot Dad in the inner harbor with some Gatorade and a gel pack. I grab them and go and he tells me to SLOOOWWW DOOOWWWN. Dave and I are now past the stadium and into the Federal Hill district. This is fun! I see Kerri, Joe Carl's fiancee on her stoop and give a yell! I did not know she lived here. She gives a shout out! I am also getting lots of catcalls for the Les Boulez jersey, most of them arguing whether it is a Jeff Malone jersey and why would a white boy wear that! Dave shakes his head and tells me to save my energy for later.


We loop across the marina district by Ft McHenry and it is lonely in the warehouses crossing mile ten at 78 minutes. The loop of the actual Fort has not yet been added to the course. At mile 13 we are back to the inner harbor and the crowds pick up. We cross the half marathon point at (1:42) 102 minutes and I spot Dad and now with Mom, Heather and Jen Kirkegaard. They are pumped up as am I. Dave is amazed at all the love we (I ) am getting. After all this is my marathon debut and my family has not been to many races before.


We cruise Fells Point at mile 15 and head north to Patterson Park. All systems are still go. We are about 3 minutes ahead of 8 minute pacing. Dave has us locked into a sub 3:30 time. Sounds good to me, this is all unknown physical exploration but let go with it! At mile 16 the course gets rolling hilly as we navigate some of the sketchier sections of the city. The crowd support here is more out of curiosity than of interest in endurance racing.

At mile 17 I detect my first hint of trouble. A quick twinge of the right hamstring. I block it out and press on. Momentary blip? Let's hope so! At mile 19 way out in north Baltimore, I hear my name called (No names on our numbers) so who can that be? Why it is Dad, Mom, Heather, and Jen. After a walk from the Inner Harbor they flagged a cab uptown and arrive less than 4 minutes before I steam by. Dave and I are still three minutes sub 8 minute pace. I am on top of the world and fired up by their presence. Dave just shakes his head and reminds me to focus!


At mile 20 we hit Patterson Park and an uphill to a big water stop. Dave suggests we walk for 30 seconds to intake some fluids. We are at 2 hours and 30 minutes in and still 4 minutes ahead and can walk for a little bit. Wow!! that feels great! When he starts into his run, I pause for a second. My body likey walky. But off we go and we are back on track. At mile 21 the hammy twinge is back, and this time alarmingly from my glutes down to my knee. It disappears a second time but the alarm bells are going off. I am still in business, but now I am nervous is that what hitting the wall is all about!


At mile 22, I am in trouble. What is happening? My body is not listening. My brain says run, and the legs chortle. Both hammies charlie horse up and I am down. I mean falling down on the ground. I try to rise, but no go amigo! I look up in fear and see Dave twist around and look . I am not sure if my fear face spooked him or what, but he slows momentarily, looks again through some other runners now and then disappears down the road. It is mile 22, and I am on the ground. Worse still now I am on my own with no plan beyond minimizing pain by not moving my legs.


Six years later as a triathlete writing this race report I reminisce back at this moment as a defining one. Many would quit the race right there out of fear and risk of physical injury. Others may walk for a bit toward the finish. I have no strategy, I know nothing about hydration, nutrition, electrolytes, or potassium. I am sitting there in a daze. Then a good samaritan appears. He must be a runner because he grabs my ankle as I lay there and jerks my leg straight into the air. Instantly my cramped hamstring releases itself. He repeats the process and tells me to find bananas, gummy bears and gatorade. I need food, and electrolytes he says. Whateve those are? I am up and wobbling. I take a tentative step. then another, and another, and I am off. At mile 23 the hamstring again cramps a bit, but I know what to do now. Folks are running, but not that fast and not too many ar epassing me. I have lost track of my time overall time, time in general, my brain is just not working. BUT, I do know I am putt putt putting along. I look at my watch and see numbers but they do not compute and mean nothing. By mile 24 I think I can make it to the end. The finish cannot come quick enough. I swear these miles are not spaced right! Then I start to hear the crowds and music has picked up now. I steam, (well . . .meander) toward mile 26 and Camden Yards. We run through Boogs Bar-b-q in right field and I know I can make it. But the right hamstring goes out one more time, and I put on the brakes. I raise it onto a stantion, and watch ten or so runners glide by! I can hear the finish. Move Tim, move!!


This blows!! I dismount the stantion and take off. Now I am angry and the andreneline must move me because I start passing back the runners nowin a near sprint. I hear the finish. I see the finish. I hear my name. I hear it again from the crowd. I look to the left and there is my posse. But it has grown now! Ramesh, Bob Mulvaney and Paul K. are now here too. Bob snaps some crucial photos which grace the walls of my basement to this day. I toss them my over t-shirt, Why did I hold onto it the whole race? I eye the finish and the time clock. 3:35:40 . . . .OK, I only lost 10 minutes from pace at mile 20! I cross over at 3:36:02. My finish time nets me place 360 out of the roughly 2000 entrants.


There is no record of automated finish. There are no official race photos, save Bob's. This is my first endurance race and my marathon PR and I will always savor how I overcame my naivety and how to handle my body failing me to persevere. The lesson learned in this race, is that; One pacing is crucial. Two, hydration and nutrition strategys need to be developed and adhered to, and finally, to quote famous Jimmy Valvano. Never give up. Whatever you do, never give up.


My posse showed TREMENDOUS support ALL DAY and consists of Mom, Dad, Heather, Jen and Paul, Ramesh, Liz and Bob, who snapped the great action picks. We all walk (or hobble for me) over to celebrate at Mother's Bar on Federal Hill. The Bud beer and chicken cheesesteaks and cheese fries never tasted so good and go down so smooth! College football is on and life is good. I love Baltimore and as my first foray is still my best and most memorable marathon race and of course my PR! I now can call myself an endurance athlete!!