Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Grandma’s Marathon: Closing 10K

Mile 20 is the halfway point of a marathon.

The race doesn't really start until mile 20.

It's scary how much time you can lose in the final 10K, but it's exciting how much time you can gain.

I could go on, but anyone who has run a marathon knows that the final 10K is a different beast!  I've run enough that I've experienced all kind of variations of final 10Ks, from the preferred strong finish/fastest 10K of the race type, to the death march type.  I know how I "should" feel at mile 20, and that is about how I felt at this mile 20.  I thought I could get a solid final 10K out of my legs, but not much more -- but at the same time nothing is ever for certain until you actually cross that finish line.

The Grandma's course enters Duluth a little before mile 20, and the increase in spectators and noise on the course is very evident.  I felt like I'd been running mostly alone for miles, but after 20 I was suddenly barreling past people (if you can negative split or even split a marathon, this will always, always occur at the end, and it makes me feel like a rock star).  It gave me a great boost and kept me occupied - look ahead, catch him/her, repeat.

I picked up my bottle of nuun energy at mile 22, and decided I should drink the whole thing for the caffeine, which I now think was a mistake.  Around this same time, it started raining just as I came to the race's infamous Lemondrop hill.  I remembered the general location from the course tour, but as I was running up it I thought, "Surely this isn't it; it must be on the other side of this tiny hill", but at the top of the incline spectators were screaming that we were up Lemondrop.  That was a nice feeling, but I didn't have much time to enjoy it before I got a horrible side cramp in my left side around 22.5.  I didn't let myself panic over it, because although it was a sharp stabbing dagger, I've encountered similar cramps before and have been able to work through them.  I tried to breathe it out but nothing seemed to help.  I could tell the pain was affecting my form, but there wasn't anything I could do except keep going.  I felt like I was falling off pace, but I was still passing people and kept pushing with all I could.

I'd had the cramp for nearly 2 miles and had pretty much just accepted that I was going to finish the race with it, when it abated around the same time the rain shower ceased!  At that point I was around 24.5, and I felt like I could really crank it in through the finish, even though my neck was cramping somewhat (similar to what I experienced at CIM but nowhere as severe).  I also knew we had more decline than incline after that point.  I was around many more runners than I'd seen for miles, and I could see a few woman ahead of me so kept pushing to catch them.
Somewhere in 24 or 25
Around mile 25 I heard a spectator tell another runner, "You've gotta move if you want under 2:50", and that spurred me on because I was determined to be under 2:50.  It's probably good I didn't know how much cushion I had or I might not have kicked as hard.  I could hear the finish line announcer as I navigated through the final turns of the course.  I saw two clocks on the course, but there were no signs by them indicating distance so they were meaningless; it never even occurred to me that I could look at my watch to find out.

When I rounded the final turn and spotted the finish line, I really kicked it into high gear.  There was one more woman in sight and I was determined to pass her, and I did so with authority (you can see her behind me in the first picture below).  I heard the announcer saying my name and my family cheering.  I tried to smile and my heart swelled with thankfulness as I crossed that line in my second fastest marathon time of 2:49:08.
Final stretch

Gritting it out
Almost there!
I ran through that finish!

Bam!

Elevation of the final 10K

How 'bout that 6:12 final mile & 5:55 pace final 0.2?! I can
barely run 800 m repeats at 5:55 in training, bahaha!



3 comments:

  1. Such a solid race - and virtually watchless to boot. Congrats on a fine day.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Dave! This was the first marathon that I didn’t monitor nearly every single mile split, and it was really liberating.

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