The post-race question I'm always asked

Enjoy it while you can

The exhilaration that comes after a race has about the same shelf-life as a loaf of freshly baked bread. Right after a race, once I've re-hydrated, re-fueled and rested, the world looks perfect. Endorphins are still plentiful and I feel proud and satisfied. The day after a race has its charms, especially for me, because it's usually a Monday and I get to re-live the experience with work friends.

By the third day, the pride is still there, but the bread isn't quite as fresh. I begin to ask myself questions like "Should I have taken two rest days as planned, or powered through and done an easy run today?" and "What's next to do after all that base training to prepare for my half marathon?" By Tuesday, not too many people are asking about my weekend.

I was asked (four times) yesterday, if I was now going to do a marathon (or in one case, a real marathon). My answer remained the same: No. If all things were equal, but I were 20 years younger, I would probably consider running a full marathon some day. But for me, the ability to run a 26.2 mile race isn't something that I feel I need to do. If I can break 2:00 for 13.1 miles, that would mean more to me. An accomplishment like that would keep me excited, long past Tuesday.

My favorite thing about the race

Photo courtesy of Newsday

My favorite thing about yesterday's race wasn't the PR, the medal or the feeling of crossing the line after two hours of running. It was the fun of the day, being around people that I knew, who were sharing the same experience as me. Last year's half marathon was a singular effort. I traveled alone, ran the race alone and had little contact with anyone else until I'd finished the race.

I wasn't alone before or after the Half Marathon and it made a big difference for me. My family often joins me at races and it always feels special when they do. But a half marathon is a long time to wait on the sidelines for someone that you see only for a moment. I had my special after-race time with my wife and kids when I got home yesterday, and it was great.

Over the course of two hours and eight minutes, there's a lot of time to think. The field was crowded and that allowed me many opportunities to study the runners ahead of me. I'm always amused by what some people wear during a race. At other times, my mind drifted to non-race related things, and I found myself surprised to be passing mile markers so quickly. I spend a lot of time "in the zone" over that 13.1 miles.

Most importantly, I had fun while I ran yesterday's race, and that was completely opposite to my previous experience running the half. You train a lot and pay money to enter a race. If you don't enjoy it, you shouldn't do it. The LI Half was certainly worth the price of admission. In fact, it's much more than that.

Race Report: 2012 LI Half Marathon

Proud to earn the medal

LI Half Marathon: 13.1 miles -- 2:08:47 (PR)


This morning I ran my second half marathon and the results were (happily) better than the first. I finished the race almost 14 minutes faster than last year. All those weekends at Bethpage clearly paid off, and a healthy knee took care of the rest.  


My day started early and I was joined by my friend TC who came by my house at 6:00 AM. We did last minute preparations, like pinning bib numbers and packing our gear bags, before we headed over to Eisenhower Park. The roads were clear and we made good time. We quickly found parking spots and walked over to Charles Lindbergh Boulevard where the start of the race was being staged. In our excitement we forgot to take notice of where we'd parked. It was something we'd regret later.


Even though we were early, the crowd was already large. It quickly grew to thousands and, before we  knew it, race time had come. Last year there was a dearth of porto-pottys and this year it appeared as though they'd doubled the number. That made things much easier for people and prevented the need to use the grounds along the starting line as ad hoc facilities.


I located a spot in the 9:00 pace range and after some unexpected fireworks, the crowd was off. With over 5,000 runners on the move, we basically shuffled past the starting line. It was good that the race provided a starting line sensor that captured net times for runners, but for some odd reason "official" times are calculated from gun time. 

Consequently, my "official" pace was based on a time that was three minutes longer than my actual time.  It's a bad policy because it punishes people who follow the rules and line up at their pace range, rather than move to the front of the line. I really don't understand that. Since they record the runner's net times, why don't they use them?


But while this race is about performance, it's also about the experience. Knowing what to expect after running the race last year really helped me manage my expectations. The loop around Nassau Coliseum, that felt so long the last year, went by very quickly today. I couldn't believe how soon we reached the 5K mark and I appreciated my healthy knee when we passed the four mile sign. That was the moment of truth for me last year, when I debated whether to drop out to protect my knee.


I maintained a steady pace as I made my way up Post Road to Jericho Turnpike, stopping for the briefest time to grab water to wash down some GU Roctane I had put in my gel flask. That turned out to be a great way of managing fuel. I hit the 10K mark in just about an hour and I ran strongly through the next few miles. At one point, on Brush Hollow Road, a band was playing a fast tempo blues song that perfectly matched my cadence. Although I usually prefer silence when I run, I appreciated all the live bands that played for us today.


When I reached Wantagh Parkway I was still feeling good, but the sun had come out and the entrance to the Parkway was the steepest incline we'd yet encountered. I made it up fine and enjoyed some of the downhill sections, although one uphill section went on for a while. All along the race, I thought about the quote: "Run the mile you're in" and that helped me focus on the moment, instead of thinking about the miles ahead.


Once we hit Carmen Avenue I was pretty psyched because I knew that I would beat last year's time by a measurable amount. I was careful not to mistake the full marathon's 24 mile marker for a sign that we'd reached 12 miles (like I did last year) and when I saw the 11 mile marker, I knew I had enough in reserve to finish with some strength.


We entered the park and I actually needed to pass some runners on the narrow pathway. I saw my dentist up ahead and greeted him as I caught up. I yelled "Let's go!" and we picked up the pace. He was able to sustain it, but I needed to drop back to my previous pace after a couple of minutes. I knew when I was getting close to the end, and started to feel some excitement. My Garmin said 2:04 and I knew I had a good chance of breaking 2:10, which was my stretch goal.


The last quarter mile was hard and the crowd along the path was deep and LOUD. I saw the finish line and put in as much effort as I could until I crossed. I was in so much better shape than last year at the end. I saw TC, who had nailed the distance in 1:50, waiting near the line. We celebrated each other's performances and made our way slowly to the Finish Line Festival. The crowds were so thick that we decided to skip the festival and head to the UPS trucks to get our stowed gear.


We had no clue where to find our cars, so we walked around for over thirty minutes until we finally located the lot where we'd parked. I thought back to last year when I could barely handle the ten minute walk to my car after the race.


A foot soak with Dr. Bonner's peppermint soap helped a lot this afternoon and I'm going to take a couple of days off from running to recover. I am pleased and happy with today's race and I'm proud of my friends who also ran today. Is it realistic to think that I could break 2:00 in a half marathon some day? I'm not sure I can, but after today's race, I can considerate it a possibility.

Crossing the T's before crossing the line

Staying the course on Sunday

There's less than 20 hours left until tomorrow's race. The only things left to do are to pick up my race number at the Expo and then prepare my gear. Actually, there's a lot of detail to that part. If the weather follows current predictions, we will have great conditions at the start of the race. In that case, I've identified which shirt, shorts and shoes (Kinvara 3's) I'll use. Along with that are many other tasks (filling my gel flask, charging my Garmin, SPIbelt items, sunglasses, warm up clothes, gear bag, etc) that must be completed.

Last year I made a list that came in very handy in the morning, because I was able to quickly verify that I had everything I needed before I left. I'll do the same this year. I'm still undecided if I'll start the race with bottled water that I can throw in the trash when I'm done with it. Water stations serve that purpose so I'll likely just use them instead.

Yesterday I went over the race course with a colleague, BL, who is running the LI Half for the first time (his first half marathon in fact). He's only been running for a year but he's made great progress and puts in the hard work to train. BL frequently races and that will yield benefits for him tomorrow.

Another colleague, TC, will be coming by my house around 6:00 AM tomorrow and we'll head to the race together. TC ran a 1:55 half marathon on a tough course two weeks ago and he is planning to run the Brooklyn Half next weekend. I'll see him at the start but I'm guessing he'll beat me to the finish line.

Thoughts before my half marathon

I'll admit that I've assigned a lot more importance to this weekend's half marathon than is probably justified. After all, it's just a race, one of ten or eleven that I plan to run this year. It's not even my first half marathon. But the LI Half Marathon is important to me, because race performance is a reflection of all the work I've done to train for the event. Races validate conditioning and reveal shortcomings.

I think of Sunday's race two different ways. On one hand, I'll wake up early and think about the fact that I'll be racing a distance equal to traveling from mid-town Manhattan to Newark, NJ. Two-plus hours of constant motion -- running, not walking. On the other hand, I think about how almost every Saturday, for the past eight weeks, I've run a distance at Bethpage that was progressively longer than any run I've done this year. No stress on those runs. I just ran until I finished.

I hope I keep the latter point in mind as I line up for the 8:00 AM start on Sunday. I definitely want to do better than last year and, thankfully, I am not suffering the same knee pain that made the 2011 race especially difficult. I have a stretch goal time, a realistic goal time, an expected time, and last year's time. I'm curious to see what the timing clock says when I cross the finish line.