-----Original Message-----
From: Peter Han [mailto:[email protected]]
Sent: Sunday, May 05, 2002 7:06 PM
To: Peter Han
Subject: Vancouver Marathon Report

Friends,

 

Since I'm getting married later this year, and Hanrick remains ever eventful, I don't want to saturate your email boxes with overenthusiastic tales of personal doings. So, if you're tired of Peter Han spam, delete now. (However, I do reserve the right to use our wondrous Web analytics technology, Plexus, to check which of you worthlessly disloyal bastards actually doesn't read this humorous account!....Just kidding....)

 

For those of you still with me, let me just say that you're on my distribution list after a *very* careful screening process, focused on finding fellow-runner or runner-supporting friends who might delight in this tale of effort, energy, and ultimately, mixed results: the story of the Vancouver Marathon, 2002.

 

First, let's cut to the chase: I finished the race this morning (Sunday) in 3 hours, 36 minutes, approximately 8:15 per mile. This was below hopes for me and my coach - ie. my future wife - and in fact, even below expectations. My dream for the race had been to run the race in under 3 hours, finish to the sound of cascading cheers (or, at least, a cheer, from Meredith), and Tiger-Woods-fist-pump my way across the line....Ah, dreams. I'd known that kind of sterling performance wasn't likely, given that a rock star like Meredith had run 3:07 (in her pre-Ironman days), and that beating her ain't easy! Failing my stretch goal, though, I expected at least to finish in the range of 3:15 to 3:30, which would've taken around a 7.5 mins/mile pace, well within my training.

 

How did I arrive at the final result? I realize I'm slipping into overly verbose mode, and could tap out many pages on this day, thereby distracting you hard-working folks from Monday-morning lattes and eBay surfing. So: brevity, at least attempted! 4 phases to the race:

 

Phase I: Wake-Up and Warm-Up

Alarm clock went off at 5:40 am, and with that I was up for my customary visit to the john. Heeding the advice of others to hydrate amply, I had drunk numerous glasses of water the previous night at dinner with Meredith, my cousin, and her husband, and noted with satisfaction this morning that I made bigger water than normal. (For the non-athletes reading this, please excuse my "descriptive description" - I could go further, but I'm trying to keep this rated "PG"!) After that, I wolfed down a big breakfast and 20 oz of Coke, based on my reading of caffeine's effect in reducing glycogen depletion. Kenyan runners chew coca leaves before their marathons, and since I expected to be battling them near the front of the race, I wanted not to hand them any unfair advantages....

 

Warm-up consisted of standing next to a post, watching the large, international crowd milling about, and gradually feeling the excitement building within. I ran over 400 miles in the last 4 months getting ready for this race, many on runs in the rainy dark by myself after work, so it was very satisfying to think that I could accomplish this distance and at least begin to understand the lengths to which truly strong endurance athletes like Meredith go. Watching all the other competitors, I saw the usual mix of young and old, fat and fit, all races, and it got the adrenaline going! Knowing that I had to run 26 miles, though, I figured I'd warm up in the first few miles, without doing anything before the 7:15 am start time.

 

Phase II: Miles 1-10

Things went really well in the beginning of the race. Based on a 15K that we did in Portland in March, with good friends Jim and Kelly, I knew that I needed to rein myself in a bit at the beginning. This I did, with little perceived breathing and a nice, even lope. I went through mile 1 in 7:05, and mile 2 in 14:04, which was perfect given that I knew a sub-3 marathon would require just under 7 mins/mi, and I'd speed up once I warmed up.

 

Though I knew it unlikely, I wanted at least to give myself a chance to run the sub-3 marathon. My plan going into the race was thus: first 10 miles in 68 minutes, walk for 2 minutes, second 10 miles in another 68 minutes, walk again for 2, and then have 40 minutes to run about 6 miles - not easy at the end, but at least in shouting distance.

 

I got the first part of the equation done. By mile 10, still feeling pretty strong, I came in at 67:35, and greeted Meredith, who was waiting with a packet of Gu and some water.

 

Phase III: Miles 11-17

I'd describe this phase as "trying to hold on". Trying to hold onto pace, trying to hold onto confidence, trying to hold off lactic acid buildup. I succeeded, to a degree. Coming through the half-marathon in 1:31:30 (thus, 3:03 marathon pace), I knew I'd fallen off a bit but was still potentially okay.

 

This was the only part of the beautifully scenic course that could be described as hilly, as it wound into the waterfront area of Vancouver's Stanley Park. Unfortunately, around mile 15, I felt the first quiver of my muscles, in the left-leg hamstring. I tried to dismiss it, but at mile 16 it'd become an outright cramp. After stopping to massage, I moved on at a decent clip, and still managed to meet Meredith at our second checkpoint, mile 17, in 2:02. She had concern written on her face, borne of long experience in watching amateur endurance athletes like me, but her last encouragement to me was, "C'mon - All you've got left is a bit more than our Lake Union Loop!" It was true: just over 9 miles remained in the race, not much more than an 8.5-mile training run in Seattle that I routinely do in 56-58 minutes. The possibility of sub-3 had become remote, admittedly, but if magic could be pulled from the hat - 9+ miles in 58 minutes - it was at least mathematically possible!

 

Phase IV: Miles 18-26.2, ie. Hell

I blew up here. No question: Those 9+ miles were "run" in 94 minutes, not 58, and I was feeling the hurt big-time. Reflecting on my training, I should've done fewer medium-length (5-8 mi) runs and more overdistance runs (18+), because my body simply wasn't ready for this part of the challenge. Meredith had told me repeatedly to brace myself, and to summon everything I could in the race's final stages, but as she said afterwards, there are some things you learn by listening, and some by experiencing. Wow, it hurt.

 

A couple of anecdotes in closing: first, it was interesting at this phase the race how I was mentally trying to "compete" with people. I'd fixate on this or that fellow competitor, and think to myself, "Okay, at least I'm going to hang with this guy. I'm not going to let him or her run off from me, and I'm going to push myself, even if it hurts." Well, it may be true that where there's a will there's a way, but 120 minutes into this exercise, my will was weak. I kept sliding back in my "competitors": first this person, then that, then another, and basically, they all passed me. It started with reasonably fit, athletic-looking people, who were going to run that 3:10 or 3:15 I'd wanted to. By the end, I won't lie: there was a lot of cellulite at which I was staring from behind. Jeez! ! Running is good for many reasons, but one is that it's very humbling - You can be slender, and wearing nice gear, and very knowledgable about the big stars or nutrition or training, but if you don't step up on race day, fat people will pass you.

 

The second and final anecdote: So as I continually adjusted my anticipated finishing time, my one consolation, and unwavering confidence, was that I was going to finish. No matter what, I reasoned, I could walk the last 3-4-5 miles as needed. (And as the times indicate, I took myself up on this psychological bargain, unfortunately much). But as I entered the last mile of the race, for just a moment, the fear flickered up that I actually wouldn't make even my reduced goals. At mile 25.3, I saw a policewoman holding up traffic so we runners could pass. The thought that went through my head, through a fog of pain, was earnest: "Maybe I should fall down right here and fake a heart attack. Then an ambulance would come pick me up." I'm telling you, I felt like I needed it! By that point, my walking/trotting was *really* painful. I didn't think I'd get that bad, but I did. Meredith was at mile 25.6 or so to snap pics and cheer more, and right then, I got major muscle lock. It was bad: the crowd in that home stretch was about 5-7 people deep, and Canadians being the cheerful, friendly people that they are, I heard a lot of encouragement and people saying, "C'mon #1284 - You can do it!" It was pretty embarrassing, actually - I had become one of those home-stretch finishers who really, truly had run out of gas. You always see some nuts who've saved up extra gas in the earlier miles so that they can sprint gloriously in the last mile of the race; then you see the nuts who've paced themselves so poorly earlier in the race that they become sympathy cases. Well, sympathy I accepted, with the magnanimity of a great lion who simply had a thorn in his paw on this day (or something like that). ;-)

 

So that's it, folks. It was worthwhile, I'll probably do it again at some points, albeit with more overdistance runs in training, and I learned firsthand about those Kenyan coca leaves! Also, Vancouver's a great race that I'd recommend to others. Hope everyone else had a good Sunday, too!

 

Talk to you soon,

Peter