St. George Marathon – October 4, 2008

The (Bumpy) Road to Boston

Ever since finishing my first marathon in Chicago in Fall 2006 (3:29) I’ve been fixated on qualifying for the Boston Marathon. My first marathon went so well — solid training, perfect weather, better-than-expected result — that I was convinced it would be trivial to drop the additional nine minutes needed to meet my 3:20 qualifying time for Boston.

It seems, however, that the Running Gods do not suffer hubris lightly. Although runners with real natural talent might indeed find it trivial to qualify for the Boston Marathon, for the average runner like myself, it remains a demanding challenge. My next two marathons moved me no closer to the goal. Inadequate training for Grandma’s Marathon in Summer 2007 yielded another 3:29 finish, and then sweltering weather conditions in Chicago for my Fall 2007 attempt produced an even slower time. So as Fall 2008 approached, I found myself two years older and no closer to my Boston qualifying time then when I started the quest.

So for my third real attempt at a Boston qualifying time, I decided to take as few chances as possible. I studied the list of Fall marathons, and finally settled on the perfect combination of a race with a historically fast course and historically excellent weather conditions: the St. George Marathon. St. George is a favorite among runners seeking a BQ (“Boston qualifying”) time because its 2500 foot net elevation drop will give a typical runner about a 3-4 minute boost, while the geography of running through Utah canyons typically results in a cool, dry and windless race. After suffering through last year’s Chicago Marathon meltdown (90 degree temperatures, 90% humidity) I considered myself due for the best conditions possible, and St. George looked to be my ticket.

My Training

While chance plays an inevitable role in a runner’s marathon fortunes, there are at least a few things that you can control — the most important of which is your training. It’s a well known secret in the running world that the best way to become a better runner is to run more miles. In the past, I had generally trained just hard enough to meet my goals; this time around I wanted to leave no doubts. So I undertook a very rigorous, high-mileage training program that I was confident would put me in shape to run a BQ marathon with room to spare.

My training program was the “18/70+” plan from Pete Pfitzinger’s Advanced Marathoning book. I averaged 80.7 miles per week (30 miles per week higher than my highest previous training program), and I peaked with one week at over 100 miles. My highest mileage month was 362 (more than 100 miles over my previous monthly high), and my other months were 360, 325 and 325. I ran 26 workouts of 14 miles or longer, and 8 of those were 20 miles or longer (peaking at 24 miles). In 18 weeks, I logged a total of 1,376 training miles, in 165 separate workouts, aggregating 193 hours of running.

With the benefit of hindsight, I’ll admit I was a bit lucky to make it through my training without injury or burnout. This is a plan normally followed by much more experienced and talented runners than myself, and having survived it, I would be reluctant to recommend it to a relatively novice runner like myself. The plan has no rest days; you run seven days a week, often twice a day. Running this frequently and at this level of mileage is very difficult. Not only do the extra miles themselves take a lot of time, but it takes me longer to run them because my training paces are significantly slower than the typical runner who might tackle this kind of workload. It added up to a lot of time on my feet: an average of 11.5 hours running per week. But, there’s no question that having survived this level of training, I was in the best shape of my life and definitely ready to run a BQ marathon even if things didn’t go perfect on race day.

The Weather (Again!?!)

Well, of course things didn’t go perfect on race day. The one thing a marathoner can never control is the weather. Out of my four marathons, Mother Nature is currently leading 3-1, although this time she decided to assail me with wind and rain, not heat. Race day brought a hard, steady rain that continued unabated during the entire race — the first rainy St. George Marathon in more than a quarter-century. Worse, the storm front also dealt us a steady headwind for the entire point-to-point course, with wind speeds ranging from about 20 mph at the start to around 15 mph by the finish.

On the plus side, the rain and cloudy conditions kept air temperatures moderate all morning, hovering around the mid-50′s during the time I was running. The rain made it feel even colder on the course, but I have never had problems with cold weather running. Altogether, not the best running conditions possible — but nothing that would stop me from going 100% for my goal.

Let’s Get It Started

The marathon starts up at 5,200 feet in a little town called Central, Utah. Buses start bringing runners up the start line as early as 4:00 am, and by the time I arrived at around 6:00 am, the normally barren stretch of road was already overflowing with runners trying (vainly) to stay dry while going through their last-minute race preparations. Trash bags and ponchos were the height of fashion. I found myself a spot near one of the several dozen fire pits set up by the race organizers (a signature touch at St. George) and kept myself warm until it was time to lineup for the start.

I positioned myself halfway between the 3:10 and 3:20 pace groups, and after very little fanfare (which was appreciated considering the pouring rain) the gun went off promptly at 6:45 am. I’d like to say that the first couple miles were easy, and that I relaxed while enjoying the scenic Utah landscape. Truth is, it was still pitch black outside and I could barely see my hand in front of my face. With over 5,000 runners on the road, it took a serious effort to maintain my footing and find a steady pace while dodging discarded raingear and sidestepping slower runners. Although I had fully expected my first couple miles to be a bit slower, I was already 15 seconds behind plan by the time I passed mile 2.

A Man; A Plan

I should explain that due to the significant elevation changes in the St. George Marathon, I had prepared a mile-by-mile plan to help me conserve my legs on the uphills and take advantage of the downhills. I made customized pace bands — essentially, paper bracelets with mile times printed on them — to give me my target pace for each mile of the race. The theory was that if everything went according to plan, I would cross the finish line a couple seconds faster than 3 hours, 16 minutes. I figured that 3:16 was an aggressive, but achievable goal based on my training; moreover, importantly, I knew that if things weren’t perfect on race day (like the weather) I could run a bit slower than plan and still achieve my 3:20 qualifying time for Boston.

Over the next three miles, the crowds started to thin a bit, and light finally began to appear behind the thick blanket of storm clouds. Although the rain and wind were not letting up, I started to get mentally acclimated to the fact that these were going to be the conditions for the entire race. The wind was bothersome, but let’s be serious: I live and train in Chicago, the “Windy City.” Strong winds along the lakeshore running path in Chicago are the norm, so persistent headwinds are nothing new to me. The rain bothered me even less. Rain doesn’t actually slow you down, although the cooler temperatures that accompany storms can bother some runners. But as fate would have it, I had done a lot of my training in heavy rain storms — especially in September as the remnants of the various Gulf tropical storms drove through Chicago. Mentally and physically, I was very accustomed to running in this weather, and without a doubt that helped me get back onto plan despite the conditions.

St. George is known for its fast, net-downhill course, and there’s no question that you can flat-out fly on portions of the marathon. The next two miles gave me my first taste of these downhills, and I probably ran them too aggressively. I wasn’t trying to over-achieve — its just that sometimes when your legs start moving fast its just easier to go with the flow rather than hold yourself back. However, it’s almost always a bad idea to “bank” time (run faster than plan) early in a marathon because the time you pickup is usually more than offset by slower times later when fatigue starts taking hold. In hindsight I don’t think it hurt me, but I really should have been more focused on hitting my planned splits.

Joe Versus the Volcano

At the time, however, I was focused on one thing and one thing only: Veyo Volcano. It’s hard not to focus on Veyo when it dominates the landscape, looming on the horizon and filling your forward vision. Veyo marks the start of the serious uphill portion of St. George, aggregating a 400 foot climb over a five mile stretch as you ascend the hills that make up the base of the volcano (no, you don’t climb the volcano itself, thankfully). While portions of this ascent are steady, gradual climbs, almost all of mile 8 is a steep uphill cresting the tallest of Veyo’s foothills.

I was determined not to make the other mistake of many St. George first-timers and try to attack Veyo with abandon. I did not want to find myself with dead legs at mile 12 of a 26 mile race, so my plan was to maintain a constant effort level through the climb even though this meant some slower miles. You’ll see in the table below that my mile times slowed pretty significantly, but these speeds were commensurate with the climbs throughout this stretch. In fact, based on my plan, my pacing was extremely solid for these miles — I came within 4 second of my plan time for each mile during the ascent.

Halfway Home

Once you survive the Veyo portion of the course, you get to take a small breather before diving into the second set of steeper downhills heading towards the town of St. George. I came across the halfway point at around 1:39:12, about 48 seconds ahead of plan. While that was obviously good news, everything was not entirely rosy. Not having trained on hills extensively, I was pretty unaccustomed to these elevation changes and my legs were definitely started to feel the effects. Further, the rain had not eased in the slightest, and water began to flow in rivulets on the road surface.

With Veyo now behind me, I tried to relax and settle into a comfortable running rhythm. Unfortunately, I probably relaxed a little too much. When I left my focus drift a bit in mile 14, I found myself running slower than plan even though it felt like I was maintaining a brisk pace. Clearly, the beginning stages of fatigue were starting to settle in.

Upset with myself about slowing down, I went aggressively at the next two downhill miles seeking to recapture the lost time (for the record, probably another mistake). I built my cushion back to more than a minute, but now the faster splits were starting to catch up with me. Downhill running is fast, true, but it’s also more damaging and more tiring to the legs. I struggled to stay only slightly below plan pace in miles 17 & 18, and mile 19 (the last uphill mile) was also slower than planned. Although the race was going very well so far, I was now feeling some serious fatigue. I still had seven miles to go, and I could tell it was going to be dicey whether my legs would hold up to the finish.

Let’s Make a Deal

It was during this stretch that I started to seriously entertain the notion of abandoning my 3:16 goal. My legs were screaming and I was starting to lose concentration and focus. I was cold and drenched, slogging though a rainstorm with an icy wind blowing in my face. Slowing down would have been a relief, and I would hurt a lot less in the end. After all, I came to St. George to qualify for Boston . . . and I only needed a 3:20 to do that. Anything faster was simply unnecessary; besides, who cares about being 5 or 6 minutes faster anyway? No one would know . . . . In fact, I could slow down right now — maybe even walk a little — and still hold my head high . . . .

Except it was all a lie: one of those sinister little moments of weakness that creep into your head during a marathon. And I knew that if I listened — if I gave in to the temptation to ease up — I would most certainly not hold my head high afterwards. I knew better than to give in to these disquieting doubts and fears, but these poisonous thoughts keep rolling around in my head nonetheless. What I needed was something to distract myself, so I started making deals.

The first deal I made with myself was that if I still had a minute cushion at the end of mile 20, I would keep running hard and try to finish under 3:15. But, if the cushion was less than a minute then I would stop caring and I would slow my pace for the last six miles. And so I checked my watch crossing the mile 20 marker …

… and found that I was still just slightly more than a minute ahead of plan pace (1:03). Apparently, subconsciously perhaps, I still wanted to run fast. Now I was committed to press on.

No More Downhills, Please

The town of St. George was coming into sight, and I was still laying down some pretty fast miles with the help of the last remaining downhills. But even the downhills get extremely painful by the end of the race. I remember a point about mile 22 when I thought to myself, "I wish this downhill would end so I can rest my quads with a little flat running." Before that point, I never imagined that I would ever try to wish away a downhill during a race.

Other deals were stuck during this stretch. I remember telling myself if I just made it one more mile, I would forgo running the Houston Marathon in January (a race I signed up for as a backup in case St. George didn’t go as planned). I’m pretty sure at some point I also promised that I would skip running the Boston Marathon — or any other marathon for that matter — if I just made it a little further. These little bargains (even if not honored after the fact) had their desired effect, and I made it to the town’s edge on pace to finish just below 3 hours, 15 minutes.

The Boys Are Back in Town

By this point I was done racing, by which I mean I had neither the strength nor endurance to plan, plot, or strategize. I stopped looking at or caring about my Garmin or my pace bands. All I could do for the last two miles was try to hold on — just keep the legs moving for 15 more minutes. It was no longer a 26 mile race; it was a 2 mile race to cross the finish before complete exhaustion took hold.

When your legs are that tired, you really have no idea how fast you’re running. It feels like your absolutely crawling, that you’ve slumped to a snail’s pace. But when you’ve trained well, your legs just seem to move on their own. Maybe its “muscle memory,” or just plain force of habit, but sometimes your legs just seem to know that the fastest way to stop running is to get to the finish line as quickly as possible. In a way, you could truthfully say that I trained for almost 1400 miles in order to successfully run those last two.

As the last mile drew closer, there was a small group of runners with me who were trying to get the 3:15 Boston qualifying time for 35-39 year old men, and we urged each other on to the finish. When I realized I was more than holding pace in the last mile, I already knew I was going to get that 3:14. With lots of spectator cheers (despite the continuing rain), I crossed the finish line with a huge smile on my face. I then checked my watch — three times — to make sure I had actually done it. 3:14:37 . . . I had broken 3:15. I had set a new personal best time by 15 minutes. And, yes, I had just qualified for the Boston Marathon, with more than 6 minutes to spare.

After gathering my gear and some food (and checking my results at the scorer’s tent to be sure my watch was actually, truly right) I took a few moments to watch some other runners finish and to simply take in the scene. But the rain was still coming down, and I was starting to shiver, so I called it a day. I headed back to the hotel for a short, hot shower and long, warm nap.

Whether the Weather Mattered

Race official quoted in the next day’s paper said that the wind and rain resulted in runners finishing 5 to 20 minutes slower than their normal St. George times. I also spoke to a member of one of the local running clubs, and he said that none of the club runners (guys typically in the sub-3 hour range) had run well in the cold, windy conditions. These observations seem to match up to the race results: only about 20% of this year’s finishers qualified for Boston, compared to about 25% in 2007.

But I’ll be honest: I don’t think the weather slowed me much, if any. Perhaps because I was used to the rain and wind, I think I ran pretty close to the same race that I would have run under better conditions. Indeed, I don’t think I made too many mistakes during the race other than losing my pacing focus a couple times, and perhaps attacking the early downhills too aggressively. Even with the stormy conditions, I had a good plan and it put me in a good position to finish strong. By pacing the early uphills conservatively, I still had enough strength left in my legs to take advantage of the later downhills resulting in an amazing 1:35:25 second-half split. To put it in context: I ran the second half of St. George more than 30 seconds faster than my all-time best finish for a half-marathon race.

It Was The Course, Of Course

There’s no question that downhills allowed me to run a faster race, and I understand why an aided course like St. George doesn’t count for world records and the like. I would never suggest that my 3:14 at St. George compares directly to a 3:14 on a tougher course. But that’s true of every marathon race because every course has differing degrees of difficulty. The Boston Marathon is also a net downhill course, like St. George, but no one seriously argues that Boston is an easy course. You’ve probably heard of Boston’s “Heartbreak Hill” — the murderous climb that swallows unwary runners whole — but did you know that Heartbreak Hill only ascends about 88 vertical feet? By comparison, the climb up the Veyo foothills is over 250 feet in the first mile alone, and continues further upward for the next several miles. St. George may be a fast course, but it’s not an easy course.

The bottom line is that when all the positives and negatives got mixed together — the course, the weather, the training — I had a great day: a 3:14, a PR, and a BQ time. I’m extremely proud of the result, and I’m extremely proud of what it took to achieve the result, both during the race and during the hard weeks of training leading up to the race. I gave this race 100% of my effort and commitment, and sitting here today it’s hard to imagine that I’ll ever top this performance.

But that’s what I love about running … because in a few weeks I just know I’ll start thinking of a new, even more ambitious goal.

And now, thankfully, I get to close this race report with the words that took me two years and four marathons to earn: See you in Boston!