The agonizingly detailed Chicago Marathon Race Report Part 2: This isn’t interesting enough to warrant the number of words I wrote on it.

Having talked to quite a few people about this race (and marathons in general) the thing I keep hearing is that apparently, my ability to run evenly is impressive.

Quite honestly, I’m not sure how I’m pulling it off. If you put me in say…a 5k or 5 mile? I’m all over the place. 10k? I can’t get a feel for jack shit. But put me in a marathon, and I somehow have the ability to dial in a pace and stick with it.

And the unfortunate thing is I think some of it may be fear.

I went out easy on Sunday. And it was frustrating. People were streaming by me, which is how it SHOULD be over the first half of a marathon. I focused on HR.

One of my “rules” – apart from the big ones – is to keep my HR below 180 (or about 80% of MHR) for the first 10 miles. My rationale is simply that there is only so much of a race that long that you can run at 85-90% of MHR and I’d rather not blow my load in the first half.

We took off. Down Columbus, under the street. People are immediately whining about losing Garmin reception. We turn onto Grand. I hit the mile in a pedestrian 7:57. Fine.

The streets are lined with people already. They’re cheering way too loud. There is a long way to go.

I stay relaxed and realize I forgot to turn the auto lap off which means even though I hit the lap button, I’ll be adjusting the entire race and I’ll have all sorts of wonky partial splits. I decide I don’t care. In fact, I decide to largely ignore my watch entirely and only get the splits for posterity. (You know, like for this post.)

Miles 2-5 are uneventful. 7:53. 7:53. 7:41. 7:50. Yawn. I’m not working very hard. I glance down to look at my HR and notice I’m still under 170! Hm. I debate pushing more, but settle for pouring more water on my head.

Perhaps this is worth noting:

I poured about half a bottle of water on my head in the corral. I know its hot, so I decide that during the early miles I’d focus on sticking with my hand held bottle (defizzed Nunn – the defizzed is important when its a handheld.) and dumping water on my head. My thinking was that its not all that uncomfortable yet, so…best to prolong it, yes?

Anyhow, where were we:

Mile 6. 7:40. We’re in Lincoln Park. Lots of spectators crossing the road. There is a band where someone has a sign that says free hugs. I wonder if anybody takes him up on it. Still entirely too comfortable. I take a gel, mostly for the sodium boost.

7-11: 7:52, 7:48, 7:50, 7:48. These miles are fun. Lots of cheerleaders. Twirlers in Boystown. I pass someone wearing an ACTUAL skirt, not a running skirt. I think she was a nun. (For real. I saw several nuns at the expo in full habit.) I’m itching to run faster, but I’m scared to break out of the groove I’ve developed. My HR is still under 180, and I’m not struggling to keep it there. Interesting.

At about 11.5, I see a skinny blonde in a pink shirt pass me. On the back it says “Future marathoner on board: 5.5 months!” Sigh. I wonder how fast she normally runs. And feel depressed. I take a honey stinger chew. Just because.

12 is 7:47. Lots of the charities lined up here. Its loud. I hit the 20k mark in 1:37 something and feel ok with it…but then I see that I hit the half in close to 1:43 and cringe a bit. (Mile 13 was a 7:43.)

On one hand, I’m fairly comfortable. On the other, I’m on 3:26 pace. Eh. Right where I thought I was. On the other, I realize that I now need to start pushing it a bit if I want to be where I should be. I drop my handheld and get to work.

I pass a few people. A group, actually. And this is significant because prior to this point, I was going out of my way to NOT go with groups of people and just concentrate on maintaining my grove. This is easier said than done. By focusing only on what I’m doing, its quite easy to zone out and go to sleep…making the sudden drop in pace kind of a gamble.

Mile 14 is 7:33. Closer to what I wanted to be running all along.

By this time, we’re nearing the end of Adams and entering an isolated area of the course. I’d been keying off two women and one began to pull ahead as soon as I noticed my left hamstring seize up a bit. Hm, uh oh.

mmm...gel. (this picture is just funny.)

There is little shade. People are beginning to walk, and for a few minutes…I’m scared I might have to join them.

I take a gel and grab some extra Gatorade and try to relax. But my stubborn hamstring continues to tighten. I feel my stride shorten. Mile 15 is a 7:59. Oof.

Rather than freak out, I force myself not to think about it. I notice I’m now consistently beginning to pass people. Plenty are walking, I’m still feeling largely ok, if a bit tired. I grab a shot block…again for the sodium. My leg loosens up a bit and I hit the next mile in 7:45. Right direction.

I notice its starting to feel hot. No biggie. Its not nearly as bad as it could be. I’m passing people left and right now.

7:44. 7:49.

I pass the pregnant chick. That feels good.

7:48.

Feeling better with each mile, even though everything is a blur. I see and Elvis impersonator at some point but for the life of me, I don’t even know if it was over this stretch.

At this point, I’m feeling surprisingly good. I start swinging wide at every aid station to grab extra water to dump on my head. I’ve got sponges in my sports bra and I really want to pick up the pace…but I reign it in a bit just to avoid doing anything stupid until at least mile 20.

Mile 20 is 7:33. Hm. A decent last 10k can get me in at least close to my PR.

I scan the crowd.

I note that I’m passing even more people. I note people wearing signs from the 3:10 and 3:00 pace groups. I’m thinking about how this section of the course is making me think of the last few miles of Toronto Waterfront a few years ago: a race where nobody passed me in the last half.

21 in 7:28. People walking everywhere. I see people almost fall at the waterstop. No cloud cover.

Approaching 22, I see someone I recognize. She’s hurting. (I’d later found out she’d cramped up really badly.) I get a boost from pushing past a big group of people, despite almost getting hit by several people that stopped to walk through the water stops.

22 in 7:28.

Its hot. I think about whether or not the heat is really bugging me that much. I decide its not. Its more annoying than anything else. I dump more water on my head and make sure the sponges are still wet. I take another gel for the sodium because I do feel a little dizzy. Hm. Maybe the heat is a factor….

23 in 7:27.

Just over 5k to go. I’m trying to do the math on this. I pass a ton of people and think about how little is left. I think that if it were 20 degrees cooler I’d avoid the aid stations, but I’m scared to do that here. In fact, I take two cups of Gatorade because I’m feeling a little light headed. No biggie though, miles the 24th mile of a marathon…how the fuck am I supposed to feel?

24 in 7:28.

Suddenly, 2 miles seems like a long time. I’m still doing the math. How fast can I go? I want to take the fuck off, but I end up backing off a tad because its hot. This stretch of Michigan is without anything remotely shade like.

I look around and realize I’m still passing a ton of people. I’m not feeling comfortable. I’m feeling hot. But I’m still moving at a decent clip. I try and just push ahead…but I can’t help but notice the number of people slowing to a walk. Or the people laying on the ground. There were at least 2 or three in this stretch, including a couple with top 100 numbers. Maybe I’m frustrated that this wasn’t the day I wanted, but I’m seeing carnage already and being relatively far up in the field? I l know its going to get worse.

I pass the 40k mark in 3:13.15. I wonder how fast I can run the last 2k.

Mile 25 in 7:39. Eh. Odds of PRing are not…great. But stranger things have happened.

I tell myself that as much as this sucks and that I’m uncomfortable, there is a huge difference between discomfort and actually being in any real danger. I’m not in danger of going down. I’ve been smart. I’ve been cautious. And I should be able finish strong.

I see a girl laying on the street and the medics running over with a stretcher. This is right by the 800 to go sign. Yikes.

The crowds are loud and I know that I’ve got two quick turns and a sharp uphill. I go way too the right and just try and keep knocking off people. The last hill hurts and makes me feel like I’m running in place…but its just that and a kick. Doable.

I pass as many people as I can and at this point? I’ve oddly forgotten about the clock. I’m just trying to get over the line. I’m thinking that even if the time isn’t what I’d hoped for, at this point…I’m lucky to be moving with relative ease (despite noticing that I probably have a blister on my right heel) and not staggering or laying on the ground. I pass a ton of people. I specifically look for women and run at least two down and I cross without looking at the clock.

Then I look down: 3:23.12. (7:22 last mile, the last .2 in about 6:40 pace.)

Sigh.

I walk through the chute. My legs cramp and I realize I forgot a salt packet.

Oops.

Its not horrible. I walk through slowly. I down Gatorade. I down a beer. I limp to the gear check to get my bag and I call my father to ask him if he can give the me stats on the weather. He informs me it was 79 when I finished. So…yeah. It was hot.

Epilogue: I’m not one of those people who does that whole YAY EVERY RACE IS A JOURNEY OMG ITS EPIC AND INSPIRING thing. I’m not.

But running a big race in less than ideal conditions really does force you to put stuff in perspective. And here is what I’ve come away with:

1. My average HR for the entire race? 176…84% of my max. So, a little on the low end compared to what I COULD have done, showing that I DO have the potential to go faster. But here is what is interesting:

Compare to % of max:

I REALLY was on the low end for awhile until it went way up. As it should. But I wonder: how much further could I REALLY have pushed it under the conditions? Maybe I could have PR’d, but how much more of a toll would it have taken? Right now I’m not even sore. Slightly stiff, but I could probably run this afternoon. (I really am considering jumping in another marathon at this point…that’s not too stupid, is it?)

2. I wonder if it’d be worth being a bit more aggressive early on in better conditions. I’ll fully admit the first half didn’t feel difficult. Mentally however? I was afraid. I was afraid of falling apart. I was afraid of being one of those people on the ground at the end. I suppose in the end finishing upright only about 40 seconds off my PR isn’t anything to sneeze at, but hell…I know there were people out there who PR’d, so I can’t help wonder if I’m being kind of a wuss.

3. I’m not displeased as much as I am just bummed out. But as we all know, you can’t guarantee weather is going to cooperate. And really, when push comes to shove? I suppose it makes more sense to use your head in less than ideal conditions than go for broke. I’ve read too many awful stories about what happened to some who didn’t adjust.

And this? Is the corollary (really, there is only one) I alluded to in my last post:

1. Don’t do anything stupid.
2. Respect the distance.
3. In case of doubt, see “1″ and “2.”
4. In case of bad less than ideal weather, see “1″ and “2.”

So its ok. I suppose there is something to be said out of knowing how to negative split, particularly in the heat. I ended up very close to my PR, and felt pretty good afterward. I suppose I have to take that.

And besides, I ended up having fun:

-I got to be roommates with Shelby! And we got to walk around drunk and mocking people! We even had an adventure walking to the parking garage! It was awesome. We also ate at Revolution Brewing where I got to meet a bunch of new people – so many I can’t name them all so refer to Shelby’s post. But it was fun, and shots were consumed.

-I met even more bloggers since Amy invited me out for beer! And I met Megan ! It was a great day for drinking beer and meeting new people, less so for running a marathon.

But I’m okay with it. It was a fun race, a nice course and despite the corral debacle…I’d consider doing it again.

I just hope the weather cooperates.