Bittersweet Surrender

So last Sunday morning was the Phoenix Rock 'n Roll Marathon, which I had signed up for in a moment of weakness or bravery, I'm not sure which. Stupidity? Yep, that's more likely. Now that I think about it, it's impressive how difficult those traits are to discern...

Anyway, as noted previously, there's training involved in this sort of thing. What I didn't mention is that since that training run in early December (and a bit before that too, really), I've been having trouble with my IT band, which is a batch of connective tissue that runs along the outside of your thigh from your hip to your knee.

My target time before my leg injury flared up had been about 3 hours and 45 minutes. Not fast, but respectable. But my goals had to change when I got hurt. Irritation to the IT band is a common runner's ailment, and it sucks. For most of December, I couldn't run because the pain was getting worse, even though I was doing the exercises and stretches that are supposed to help. Lately I've managed to get some physical therapy from Sharon at Select Physical Therapy and Day Care, and it's been much better, mainly because of the application of anti-inflammatories directly to the spot on my knee that hurts the most when I run. But there's a big difference between "much better" and "ready to run a marathon."

I didn't really expect to make it the whole distance without walking, but I had hoped the pain would be managable. I was wrong.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. First, the setup:

We left Thursday morning for Phoenix. When we arrived at the KC airport, the thermometer on our car said it was 3 degrees F. When we landed, Phoenix was 73 degrees. This is change we can believe in.

We rented our car and headed north to our friends Travis and Jodie's place. They graciously took us in, showed us some nice restaurants (Thursday evening was Memphis style BBQ), and volunteered their dog, Lloyd, for extended periods of "attention" from Adam. Unfortunately for Lloyd, attention from Adam for a dog typically means Adam screeching loudly as he proceeds to grab and/or smack the dog with enthusiasm. He enjoys this a great deal; the dog usually does not. But Lloyd took it well, even though he clearly would have preferred it if Adam had not come into his life.

But, by Monday, a measure of detente had been achieved:

Friday, we picked up my race packet and had lunch at a nice Mexican place. We took a quick trip to the YMCA, where I got in a little run and Jean and Adam enjoyed their (heated, outdoor) pool and went "home" for yummy NY-style pizza for dinner.

Saturday, Jean, Adam, and I went to the Desert Botanical Gardens, which recently added a Dale Chihuly exhibit. Some of it worked very well, some of it less well, but either way, it was interesting and a nice way to spend the afternoon.

From there we headed out to Peoria to visit with Jean's cousin Stephen and his wife Angela and their two children at one of their two tanning salons (and if you're wondering about tanning salons in Phoenix, don't ask me; I haven't wrapped my head around it yet either). We walked down to a deli nearby and I had a gigantic pastrami and egg salad sandwich that was several kinds of awesome. After that, we went back to the house and made chicken, squash, and pasta for dinner, and we all tried to get to bed early.

Race Day:

Distance races mean early mornings - gotta get 'em done before it gets too hot - and the marathon was scheduled to start at 7:40. So we got up at 4:45ish and got moving. Travis and Jodie live about 40 minutes north of downtown Phoenix, so we had to get on the road. Jean dropped me off around 6:30 and headed toward Tempe and the finish line, and I hung around, trying to stay calm and trying not to think too much about my IT band and whether or not it would hold up for 26.2 miles.

The weather was perfect at the start - upper 50s, little-to-no wind, and right at 7:40, we were off. The first few miles were generally uneventful, except for about four and a half miles in when, just as I was running past, a Winnebago tried to drive under an old gas station with a roof over the pumps that was about 18 inches too low for the air conditioning unit that used to be on top of the Winnebago. Just a word of advice: if you're going to rip the AC unit off the top of your camper, don't do it as thousands of people are trotting past. Somewhat embarrassing, I imagine.

Like nearly all marathons of its size, Phoenix provides pace runners - people who run the race at a predetermined pace holding a sign saying what their pace is - so that other runners can easily see how fast or slow they're going and what finishing time that will translate to. For the first 4 miles or so, I ran just ahead of the 3:45 pacer. I was feeling good, so I moved up to run with the 3:40 pacer (about 8:20 per mile).

My cardio was doing just fine; I doubt my heart rate exceeded 145 at any point in the first 10 miles. But the mild discomfort in my knee that I had learned to live with during my training and that I had been feeling most of the race to that point turned into something more serious somewhere between mile posts 9 and 10. I tried running on the crown of the road, in the lane grooves, wherever. None of it helped and by miles 13 and 14 the pain had jumped substantially. Even with my knee getting worse, I still managed to complete the first half of the race in 1:50 (right on the 3:40 pace, with room to fade to my 3:45 target). But after passing the 14 mile marker, I walked for the first time. It would not be the last.

I tried walking for a couple minutes, then running to the next mile marker. This worked for a while, with my pace settling in somewhere in the neighborhood of 11 minute miles, but the pain was getting worse with each run and I was bouncing back a little less well with each walk. Around the 20 mile mark, my calves started cramping, and I was getting blisters on my toes, and my walks got a little longer and my runs a little slower. Each mile was more difficult than the last. The last three miles were... unpleasant.

A couple of times, I considered stopping and dropping out, but I decided it was easier to keep going than to quit.

Skipping over quite a lot of pain, that's pretty much how things went. It hurt to walk, but it hurt more to run, so I did a little of each and made it to the finish. My time was 4:27:29.

I can't say I'm pleased about the time, but I am proud of the effort. It just wasn't my day, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. So, no matter what my time was, I know I earned that dang medal.

Jean and Adam were there to greet me at the end, as were Jean's parents, who happened to be in the area looking for a place to spend the winters of their retirement and came up for the race. I grabbed a handful of snacks at the finish, and we went back to Ray and Beth's hotel room for a quick shower and then some Chipotle burritos. After that, we went to the Phoenix zoo, where Adam had a good time, and I found a comfy spot in the shade and put my feet up.

As many of the people who stop by this little corner of the intertubes are aficionados of American cinema, especially what we might call "cultural touchstones," I'll summarize my marathon experience with a few relevant movie quotes (bonus points if you can guess the reference without clicking on the link):

Mile 1-8: I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass... and I'm all out of bubblegum.
Mile 9-11: K.I.T. Keep It Together. Keep It Together. K.I.T. Keep It Together...
Mile 12-14: Pain don't hurt.
Mile 15-20: Turds. (Spaulding, how many times have I spoken to you about your language?)
Mile 21-23: Double Turds! (Spaulding!)
Mile 24-26: F*** it, Dude. Let's go bowling.
Mile 26-26.2: Actually I have no concept of time.

And for those of you less cinematically inclined, here are my mile times:

1 8:26.0

2 8:24.7

3 8:21.5

4 8:39.1

5 7:45.6

6 8:20.0

7 8:25.6

8 8:19.9

9 8:22.8

10 8:21.9

11 8:35.3

12 8:24.2

13 8:39.9

14 8:47.0

15 10:28.8

16 9:50.0

17 11:24.6

18 10:45.8

19 10:59.8

20 10:27.5

21 14:41.9

22 10:16.2

23 12:47.7

24 15:18.8

25 14:56.9

26 15:13.1

26.2 2:17.8

Total: 4:27:29

Monday we went to Carefree, AZ for lunch and a little Adam playtime before heading back south to the airport.

It was 32 degrees, windy, with a little freezing rain when we landed.

Oh, well. You win some; you lose some.