In my elementary school days, the non-academic subjects (e.g., Phys. Ed, Art, Music, and other intangibles like “citizenship” – how do you grade that?), were evaluated on the following grading scale:  O (Outstanding); S (Satisfactory); and the dreaded N (Needs to Improve).  Similarly, when my son, Alek, was in pre-school, his report card assessed life skills like “Able to Follow Directions,” “Plays Well with Others,” and “Rarely Wets His Pants.”  The “N” category was used in this context as well to denote:  “Not Yet.”  My performance at the Jacksonville Marine Corps Half Marathon today fit squarely within the great abyss of the “N” category.  Moreover, perhaps the best way to translate “N” for my performance today and its relationship to my fading Boston Marathon dreams would be “Not in this Lifetime, Pal.” 

The three ingredients for marathon success are lungs, legs, and head.  I’d like to introduce you to two major impediments on the path toward my goal of returning to Boston:  my legs and my head.  Meatloaf had a hit in the ‘70’s called, “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad.”  In my case, however, one out of three IS bad.  Right now, the only item in my marathon shopping cart is my lungs.  Cardiovascularly, I felt strong and confident today, and I could feel that the quality and quantity of my training over the past few months had helped.  But your lungs can’t carry you to your marathon goals on their own.  My legs were a big problem.  They didn’t have the life in them that was necessary to perform the way I needed them to today.  And when your legs betray you, not surprisingly, your head goes to a dark place, utters some choice profanities, and undertakes a relentless campaign to urge you to throw in the towel. 

Let’s review the conditions of today’s race.  This was my 20^th half marathon and was likely the hottest and most humid of the 20 (not a great place to start my big marathon training comeback).  The temperature had climbed to close to 80 degrees by midway into the race and the humidity was unpleasant (not like July humidity in Jacksonville, which makes me want to slit my wrists), but the humidity posed a stiff challenge for this 13-mile undertaking, especially for someone my size who sweats like a pig even in air-conditioned quarters.  I ran the race that I wanted to run up until about mile 8.  I was holding a strong 7:50-7:55 pace the way I had planned.  In mile 9, my legs started to rebel abruptly and overwhelmingly.  I actually wanted to drop out of the race, which is extremely unusual.  I felt like the ghost of Tonya Harding had come up from behind me and whacked both of my quads with a two-by-four.  I was badly dehydrated, but I had never felt dehydration in my legs like this before.  Thankfully, this blog kept me going more than anything at that point in the race.  I wasn’t prepared to report to my loyal fan base that I had dropped out of the first race on my comeback trail.

I was in a lot of pain for the last three miles of the race.  My head had almost convinced me to run the last three miles as a cool down and give myself a break from the pain.  The sun was strong, my legs were weak, and I missed the support of my “pit crew” today (my wife and son were conspicuously absent today because Alek had a cross country race on this very same morning, which was added to his schedule at the last minute).  I count on my pit crew for moral support and for my “supplies” that I don’t want to carry for the whole race (drinks, gels, etc.)  Moreover, Alek helped “run me in” for the last mile of this race and the Outback Half Marathon last year and that really helped me stop focusing on the pain and get to the finish as soon as possible.  So today it was just me and it wasn’t fun at all. 

To add insult to injury, I was passed by a rude runner at mile 11 whose sense of humor eluded me.  I was doing my “torture chamber” grunts and groans the way I usually do as I suffer through the late stages of distance races.  It’s not for show – it’s because I’m literally on my death bed.  So, along comes this fine gentleman who passed me in my state of agony.  Rather than keeping his mouth shut or offering some words of encouragement, instead he commented, “You sound like Maria Sharapova but you’re not nearly as cute.”  I wish I could have summoned the ghost of Tonya Harding to work her magic on his legs, too.  At least his comments convinced my “quitter” mind to shut up and press on with all that I had left.  I was not going to drop out or run a cool down now.  I still had a chance to beat my time on this course from 2006 (by mile 11, it was already clear that meeting my goal of beating my time from last year was no longer an option).

I suffered through the last two miles and the good news is that they actually felt better and faster than miles 10 and 11, so that offered some hope for my next race.  I just need to focus and stay tough through the rough spots.  I finished in 1:49:03, 20 seconds faster than my time on this course in 2006.  I placed in the top 17% of the field this year, which is identical to my percentage finish in last year’s race when I ran a 1:45:35.  So that’s perhaps the highest note on which to end this entry as I look toward  my next race, the Outback Steakhouse Half Marathon on Thanksgiving morning.  I will have several weeks to ramp up my training some more and do it during some glorious cooler days (hopefully including race day for Outback).  Stay tuned for more updates!