Washington's Birthday Marathon Team Relay

In its 15th (of 20) weeks, the Reebok SunTrust National Half Marathon Training Program I coach for met on Sunday morning, February 15th, in Greenbelt, MD to participate in the DC Road Runners Washington’s Birthday Marathon Relay race, the 8th oldest continuously-held marathon in the country. Coach Ellen volunteered at the race and dispensed the sweet elixir of life with a beatific countenance to thirsty runners at a water table. Coach Emily ran the full marathon in 4:13 and took third in her age group. Six 3-runner relay teams were fielded by Program participants. (Right: Coach Ellen, in blue, volunteering at last year's relay race with Je, in crimson. Last year Ellen was a Program trainee, this year she is a valuable coach.)

The marathon is a basic three-loop course, with additional distance accounted for by a run to the triple-loop at the start and a slog to the finish line at the end. The relay’s first leg is 9.7 miles and runs down a big hill into a large pastoral bowl bordered on one side by parkland and by rural highways on the other side. Emerging from the sheltered park onto the highway section in the fifth mile, runners brave headwinds, traffic and hills the rest of the way to the relay exchange point. The second leg is the 7.3 mile basic loop, and the anchor leg is 9.2 miles, running back up the big hill leading out of the park to the finish line.

Belying their name, the team formed by coach Matt, Sub 3 or Bust, won the Open Division with a time of 3:00:11. Matt turned in a torrid 6:15 per mile pace on what’s known as the Princess Leg, the middle 7.3 mile leg (which is almost always assigned to the female runner on Coed teams), as Jo and a guest runner ran only slightly slower on their longer legs in claiming the second team spot overall. A pesky Coed team snuck in five seconds ahead of these swift young men to claim the top team spot. (Left: Matt after his blistering run last year, when he did the first leg for his team.)

Coach Lauren did double duty, running the first leg for the White Jackets team of K and F, which finished in 4:07. Then Lauren anchored 2 Babes and a Tall Guy to a 3:42 time, which was good for the best finish among Program teams that didn’t have the rock star Matt on them. S and Joi handled the first two legs.

Right on Lauren’s heels was my teammate Ja, running eight-minute miles for the Satellite Cowboys which was the next Program team to finish, in 3:43. Jam ran an excellent Princess Leg for us after I got swallowed up by the hills on the backside of the first leg. I was glad to hand off the red Coed sash marker after experiencing my speed fall off precipitously during the run from a 7:57 first mile to an 8:46 overall pace.

Mere seconds behind the Cowboys was the Grumpy Old Men team, led by R, who passed me in the first leg as I was walking along in the fifth mile desperately sucking down a GU. Ju was the anchoring Old Man while a guest runner handled the short duty.

The next Program team to finish was Friends of Fleet Feet (an Adams Morgan running store, a community fixture), with St leading off and K and C following to turn in an excellent 4:19.

Many of these Program participants had never done a team race before. Everyone was totally stoked after his or her leg, even those runners like me who had a bad running day. (Did I mention the course is hilly?) The laughter was loud afterwards, bespeaking of the camaraderie on the course!

Two years at the Lake Tahoe Relay

The DeCelle Memorial Lake Tahoe Relay:
Ratings 1 easiest to 7 hardest.

Leg 1–9.6 miles. 3 hills in last half. Long downhill at end.
Rating: 2. Should be given to novices.
Leg 2–8.2 miles. The last half is an unrelenting uphill.
Rating: 6. A weak runner will kill you here.
Leg 3–10.3 miles. 7 miles of downhill onto flatlands.
Rating: 1, although going downhill is hard.
Should be given to an injured or weak runner.
Leg 4–12.3 miles. Longest, with a monster hill in it.
Rating: 4. You need a runner with a good base.
Leg 5–10.6 miles. Starts off with a tough hill.
Rating: 3. Give to a weak runner, go slow the first mile!
Leg 6–10.5 miles. 9 miles of sharp hills leads to a killer hill.
Rating: 7. Give to a strong runner, or expect runner to walk.
Leg 7–10.5 miles. Tough, long hill, dizzying, dangerous run.
Rating: 5. Give to a strong runner or you’ll lose places here.

Band of Outsiders, Team Captain Bex.
2007-------------------- 2008
1:19:37 (8:18) 43/97--1:30:41 (9:27) 91/113
1:32:27 (11:16) 77-----1:08:56 (8:24) 70
1:30:30 (8:47) 68------1:27:29 (8:29) 59
1:56:02 (9:26) 65------2:14:00 (10:54) 88
1:44:59 (9:54) 71------1:37:23 (9:11) 79
1:53:45 (10:50) 84----1:37:44 (9:18) 77
1:34:45 (9:01) 76/97--1:54:30 (10:54) 83/113

72 miles
11:32:00 (9:36)-------11:30:43 (9:35)
76/97 78%-------------83/113 73%

Thanks Tahoe Bliss!

The Denouement

As I hit the final hill on Leg 6 of the 2008 DeCelle Lake Tahoe Relay, I had a Net-Plus Two going, having passed three runners and been passed once. The last hill is a mile and a half straight up, ‘nuff said.

To run this hill in a race after nine miles is to go see the elephant, to engage in running combat. On this last raw hill, one and a half miles of nakedness as you continue up to the top without respite, you either pass, maintain your position or get passed. There is no other alternative, besides quitting. You can see who is ahead, and who is approaching.

Round and round the S curves I went, knees hurting, muscles aching, breath whistling sharply in and out. I heard some huffing and chuffing behind me and a runner smoothly went by doing sub-eights. He had come from a long way off and there was no keeping up with him. I returned to grinding up the hill. There was a runner ahead that I was approaching, however, and I went by her halfway up. I was back to Net-Plus Two. (Left: Early in my Leg 6 run.)

Then, to calm my racing heart and gasping, labored breath, I walked 50 yards when I saw my support team, imbibing some needed fluids. I broke back into a painful trot again. A runner had been gaining on me and he ran past. Revived by my walking spell, I passed him back immediately. I elevated my pace slightly and up the hillside the two of us silently toiled, sweat dripping off our noses and chins. Up ahead was a woman, whom we both passed. The warrior behind me clung desperately to me, six feet back. At one point he dropped to twelve feet back but then by a force of will, he closed the range again.

My leg muscles were screaming from the unaccustomed task of a solid mile and a half climb. I had trained for this race by running up hills, but nowhere in DC could I find a steep hill of such length that started out at a mile high already. Life became elemental, listlessly watching the roadway eight feet ahead of me, listening through pounding ears to the breathing and footfalls of the runner behind me.

We were approaching another runner. We got to within 30 yards of her when I saw the Bliss State Park sign heralding the top of the pass just ahead. A quarter mile to go! Close quarter combat was about to commence on top of the mountain between the three of us.

The runner behind me was steady as he matched my pace and trod on my heels. The woman ahead had attained the summit but she had not increased her speed despite having only 200 meters of flat terrain to go. I reached the level ground and saw my teammates at the exchange point, cheering me on. (Right: To get this beautiful medal, you're just gonna have to run the Lake Tahoe Relay yourself. If you want to have quiet satisfaction forever, run Leg 6 for your team.)

The top gained, I was now at Net-Plus Three and I hoped to pick off the runner ahead and hold off any charge from the runner behind. There wasn’t much space to operate in anymore. I pushed off on the level ground to begin a two football-field sprint to the exchange point.

My left hamstring muscle immediately clenched into a painful balled fist and brought me up short instantly. I hopped to a stop and started murmuring "OMG! OMG! OMG!" as I grabbed the back of my leg and tried to massage the fiery ball away. It was rock solid and incredibly painful. I was down, and out of the battle. The runner ahead went off towards the finish. She never increased her pace. The warrior behind, who had doggedly hung with me on the hillside while I was trying to drop him, swept by me. I didn't begrudge him benefiting from my sudden injury.

(Left: Late in my Leg 6 run. E has water for me.) I couldn’t even walk until I got my hamstring to relax a little. I stretched my leg and kneaded it for perhaps a minute. The grains of sand run out fast when you’re under pressure. Having just lost a place in the last 200 yards, and failed to gain another place, I started to worry about who was coming up the hillside next. I trotted down to the exchange chute as best I could and slapped B, the anchor leg.

We were in 77/113 place after my 10.5 mile leg. My 1:37:44 (9:18) run had gained two places. It wasn’t perfect, nor did its modest outcome seem very compelling, but I had just finished the hardest competitive run of my life and I hadn't let anybody down that day, including myself.

The Approach

Last year I ran Leg 1 at the Lake Tahoe Relay and got my part in the race over with early. It was 4.6 miles of gently climbing grade followed by three formidable hills in the next five miles. Or at least, the hills would have been formidable at any race back in DC. On this mountainous 72-mile course, these hills were practically laughable.

I finished Leg 1 last year in 1:19:37 (8:18), leaving BOO in 43/97 place. After tough Leg 2 we were in 77th place however, and in 84th place after hellish Leg 6. But Team Captain Bex muscled past eight runners in the anchor leg and we finished in 76th place a year ago. (Right: Leg 1 has a nice downhill at the end.)

This year Bex decided to place our strongest runners on the hardest legs to minimize our damage there. I drew Leg 6. Thanks, I think.

(Left: Leg 6 ascends seemingly into the heavens.) I admired Brian for running Leg 6 last year. Anyone could see from looking at the topographical map that it is pure runner's hell. Brian ran at altitude with attitude, because although he is an athlete, he is a non-runner who came up to 6200 feet from sea level to vanquish it. He faced down the 600 foot climb in the last mile and a half when his legs were rubbery from already running nine miles of sharply pitched hills to get there. Last year each BOO member did his or her own leg with its unique difficulties, but only Brian conquered The Hill and earned a swagger akin to, in another much more serious context, a Screaming Eagle at Bastogne or a Leatherneck at Tarawa.

(Left: Brian soldiers on last year on Leg 6.) So on Saturday as I waited in Homewood for for the tag, The Hill was nine tough miles away waiting for me. After running his 10.6 mile leg in 1:37:23 (9:11) which began with a monster hill the very first mile, E came sprinting into the chute at 3 pm in 79th place with four other runners closely chasing him. One was a mere eight seconds back. E had picked off nine runners. He slapped me and off I went.

I set off at an unhurried pace so I could get my breathing adjusted to the altitude, well aware that thirty-six hours earlier I had been residing happily at sea level. Within a quarter mile I was run down by a strong runner whom I didn't even try to go with as he was clearly running seven-minute miles to my nines. I had my sights on a runner up ahead. By the time I caught her that first mile, the other runner had disappeared from sight. I was back at Net-Zero. After overhauling another runner in the second mile, there was nobody else in sight anywhere. In eight hours, 113 runners can get incredibly strung out. (Right: Leg 6 starts at 6200 feet at lake level but climbs to over 6800 feet the last mile.)

I ran at Net-Plus One for the longest time, over hill and over dale. I alternated running on the uneven canted surface of the sandy shoulder and the roadway, depending upon whether traffic was approaching. The first little hill I came to disheartened me because climbing it took my breath away, but then I settled in and ran easy on the flats, purposefully on the uphills and hard on the downhills.

My support team was excellent, watering me every two miles. About every seventeen minutes I would start to look for them. They later said that I was all business, using one word guttural commands to indicate my preference for either Gatorade or water as I ran up.

I knew the course intimately, having studied it on the map and driven it several times. I put away the three teaser hills leading up to the The Hill one after another while running down one more runner. Finally I rounded a bend and came to the bottom of The Hill with its 1.5 miles of sharply ascending S turns stretching ever upwards. After well over an hour of running I was at Net-Plus Two as I started up.

The long approach done, a battle for position was about to commence on the hillside, with major combat awaiting on the hilltop. (Right: Last year's BOO. Three team members wouldn't be back.)

I'm Back

After running in the 2006 New York City Marathon in early November, I took two months off from racing due to burn-out. (Above: Crossing the finish line in Central Park at New York. I'm to the left under the clock in the yellow shirt with blue sleeves.)

I only raced two 3Ks (13:16 & 13:09) for the rest of 2006. I have been struggling to get back into racing shape this year. I am considering doing a marathon in two weeks but feel woefully out of shape. In a marathon relay I did last month, I ran a 9.2 mile leg and struggled to do an 8:26 pace. I finished the race not being able to hold off any late challengers.

Today I did this Marathon Relay in lower MD with Bex to test my readiness. I did the first leg, 14.6 miles, the flat, scenic part down by the Potomac River where it flows into the Chesapeake past St. George Island. Bex did the hills, 11.6 miles of rolling highway peaks and valleys. After doing the Inaugural National Marathon last year, she laughs at hills.

I'm a low-tech guy but I have a new toy. A Timex Ironman watch that records 100 laps. After watching Bex run the MCM last year I was intrigued with her steady pacing. Like clockwork, she recorded the miles on her Ironman watch and made sure they were between 8:40 and 8:50 miles. Result--she broke through the 4-hour barrier in only her second marathon, something which took me twelve tries.

So after six years of racing, I ditched my trusty Armitron, which only told stopwatch time. This morning I was hitting my new Timex watch each mile. Here are the splits--7:40, 7:38, 7:44, 7:51, 7:51, 7:46, 7:56, 7:57, 8:13, 8:02, 8:07, 8:19, 8:13, 8:15, and 5:02 for the last 6/10ths of a mile. I passed the half-marathon point in 1:44:09, which would be a nine second PR for me. I exchanged the baton at 1:56:41. My average pace for the distance was 7:59.5 per mile. It was a good run for me, but boy, was I glad to hand off. Bex motored off down the highway, ran relay people down whose counterparts had run away from me and hid during my leg, and... Aww, I'll let her tell you how we did.

I ran the inaugural running of this race as a marathon in 2005 in 4:19:24. At the time, it was my second best marathon time. In the first photo below, I am running by the water in 2005 in the scenic first part of the race. The views were just as gorgeous today. If you blow the photo up, you can see the Runner's ID tag, about which I spoke a couple of posts ago, hanging off the shoelace of my right shoe. The second photo shows me in 2005 sprinting to the finish line, having only 18 seconds to spare in order to be able to eclipse my then-second best marathon time.