The Eastern States 20 miler
‘You could use a swift kick in the ass.’- Sometimes Mom, sometimes Dad. Mostly Mom.
The Eastern States 20 miler kicked my ass.
I thought I was ready. I was mistaken.
Sunday was one of the few ‘nice’ weather days of 2017. It was an OK weather day for March. Cold, with a sometimes biting wind. The sun made an appearance for the first time in what felt like months.
It was a nice day. For March. I heard others qualify it as beautiful. It was ‘Army hot’ at best.
This race was important: a dry run for the Boston Marathon on 4/17. I was using it as a supported 20 miler and a chance to get a long race in and test my physical readiness for Boston. My goal was to be around 6 minute pace (2 hours) or a little under- if I was feeling good. If I can run that in April then I will be ecstatic.
Here’s the results:
The course is the one of the reasons I was attracted to the race. You begin in Maine, cross into New Hampshire, run the coast line, and finish in Massachusetts. 20 miles of beautiful, flat to slightly downhill coast line. I remember telling a girl about how my main long run in high school took me from Pembroke, through Marshfield, briefly into Duxbury before finishing in Pembroke again. 3 towns. She was amazed. Just think of all the girls I could impress with three states.
Spoiler- no one was impressed.
There was one specific thing I wanted to test on this run: in race nutrition. I’ve run two twenty mile races in my life. I bonked in both of them and then went on to bonk in the ensuing marathons they preceded. If doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity (according to none other than Albert Einstein) I am a certifiable loon. I’ve bonked in every marathon I’ve ever run. I’ve bonked in every 20 mile race. I have changed my preparation before the races, but let’s face it, I’m stupid. I tried gu on a couple of long runs, Swedish fish on a few more, and then just gone out and hoped for the best.
Stupid.
Experience dictates I have enough stored energy for about an hour and forty minutes. Then I’m running on fumes. This is what has kept me from reaching my potential in the marathon. I’m not afraid of the pain, I’m not afraid of hills, I’m not even afraid of the bonk. It’s just that when you bonk it feels like someone turned up gravity in your body. The will is there but you just can’t perform. Let’s work on that part then.
So I brought along some sport beans. I was going to push the pace, carb up a little at mile 7’ish, then again at 14. If I can postpone the bonk then I know this will be my best marathon yet.
The other test was of my general fitness. That’s something you’re always gauging. There’s three weeks to go until the Marathon. I could push the pace and still have time to recover and get fresh for the big one. This test would give me an idea if my goal of a sub 2:40 marathon is in the cards.
The race went off around 11, which is close to when I’ll cross the start line in Hopkinton on 4/17. I ran with the lead pack for about 5 miles and quickly learned that I was overdressed. I had running tights, an under armor base, my St. Jude singlet, a light windbreaker and a winter hat. The other racers in the front with me wore singlets and running shorts.
I hung with a couple of the leaders for about 5 or 6 miles. I downed my first bag of sport beans. The hardest part was getting the bag open. Note to self, cut a small incision into the bag for 4/17.
I’m not quite sure where along the course I downed them because I didn’t see any mile markers. I was told afterward that they were on the ground.
‘Why?’
‘So no one steals them.’
Being somewhat unsure of where you are in the race sucks. I suffered because New Hampshire is full of thugs who steal mile markers.
So I made it to about mile 7 and I realized that I just wasn’t feeling great. The leader was in sight but he was an increasingly smaller dot on the horizon and I needed to make a pit stop. There was a huge row of porta johns across the street in this parking lot so I crossed, hopped a fence and was running to the first one when I hear a yell.
‘There’s a crapper up ahead on the right. Go there!’
It was shaping up to be that kind of day. I hopped another fence and got back on course.
I used the loo. I hopped out and was promptly informed by one of the race officials that I had spent a minute in there. I thanked him, asked him to take my winter hat and windbreaker to the finish (he did- Great guy. Buy his Book). So now I think I’m at mile 7, I’m not feeling super sharp, and I’ve lost a minute.
Why wasn’t I feeling sharper? Looking back I had run 2 large mileage weeks, one of them featuring a 20 mile run from Hopkinton to Newton (middle hills of Heart break). The twenty had felt great but I was pushed. I planned on running 5 of it easy and then picking up the final 15 but my ego killed that. At mile 2 a bus pulled up, some runners filed out and one of them ran past me like I was standing still. A good Angel and a bad angel appeared over my shoulders, like in the cartoons.
Good angel: Steve, you’re 38. You’ve got to pick your spots. Let this kid go and follow the plan. Hard for 15, starting at 5. You’ll be fine.
Bad Angel: You’re gonna let this punk go? It’s bad enough you’re wearing running tights in public, but your wife’s bra too?
So I caught the kid. Lucky I did. He is awesome. His name is Patrick Caron and he’s a 19 year old stud running over 100 miles a week. He had pity on the old boy and let me tag along for 18. The time flew by as we got to know each other. Run long enough and at some point you’ll make friends with some random person out for a jog. It’s a perk. He’s working at Marathon sports (where I worked at his age) putting off college for a while and pursuing his passion: running trail runs and ultras. Jumping into Boston to run in the 2:30-40’s is just another days run for him. He pulled me out for a fast and fluid 20.
I kept thinking ‘I hope I feel this good on race day.’
That run, plus the two weeks of training I’d done since had chewed up my hamstrings and calves. Two days before the Eastern States I ran 8 miles. It was tough, plagued by dead legs and tight calves. By Sunday I was feeling better, but the tight rear chain was still there. There was no flow in my stride.
One great thing I know about my body- it knows when race days is. I’ve had plenty of days where I felt like absolute rubbish the day before a big race, then on race day the body knows. It shows up feeling good. The last long race I did (back in August), I felt horrid the days leading up to it. Miraculously when I toed the start line I was gifted 17 effortless miles.
Not so today. Today I got about 7. And then it was effort. Pure effort. Another runner passed me. This is where my fiercest opponent showed up.
Yes. I’m referring to myself.
It may surprise you to find out that I’m what you may call a ‘Head Case’. No one can beat me quite as quickly and effectively as I can beat myself.
My worst ‘quirk’: I’m very hard on myself. Cut to my family/former teammates nodding their heads. ‘SDA= head case.’
My self talk shifted here. I went from enjoying the race, constantly monitoring my pace, my body, to beating myself up.
‘You don’t have it. Too old. Too heavy. Too muscular. You don’t want it like you used to.’
‘FAIL HERE AND YOU WILL NOT REACH YOUR GOAL TIME IN BOSTON. 8 MONTHS OF TRAINING FOR NAUGHT.’
Miles to go, not feeling great, I started to make excuses. My training has been too hard. My legs are feeling like shit. I’ve been pushing too hard at work, not sleeping enough, eating enough. The runner who passed me was now 100 yards away.
Full disclosure- I’ve been taking a business course. I am in the top 1% of trainers as far as skill and experience are concerned, but I am not a business person. Now if you are in a gym and you don’t know what you are doing I advocate you hiring a trainer. It would be hypocritical if I didn’t follow my own reasoning. So I enrolled in a course called the fitprenuers. The leader of the course, Simon, takes a very wholistic approach to changing your business. Thoughts are things. Your mindset is the product of your thoughts, specifically your sub conscious thoughts. All those negative affirmations/limiting beliefs above are coming straight from my sub conscious.
So how does one rewrite their sub conscious?
Meditation.
I’ve been meditating. If Mom could only see me now…
And I’ll tell you what… I was able to change my thought process today. I was able to subvert the negative thoughts and enjoy the race. I ceased to care about the pace, the wind, the course, the effort. I let go of where I thought I should be and just ran.
‘Just get in flow.’ I kept repeating it, over and over. I caught the runner who’d put 100 yards between us over the last few miles.
I’d love to tell you I kept pushing, kept catching people but the reality was the wheels were coming off the bus after 15/16. I never bonked. I had some more sport beans at 14’ish (still couldn’t open the package), but I let that same runner go again.
More important than beating him was that I stood up to myself.
I crossed into Massachusetts over a narrow bridge. I knew the finish line was somewhere close by and I found I was able to pick up the pace here in the 19th mile, a first.
And then the finish. I glanced at the clock as passed the finishing shoot. 2:02. That means 2:01 if I subtract the bathroom break. 6 minute pace.
On a bad day.
With some tough training miles behind me.
What would be more valuable? Running a race where everything felt great and I whizzed through 20 miles, won the race and learned nothing new.
Or running hard for 7, losing momentum, beating myself up for 2 miles, then rallying, pushing, scratching my way back to my goal time and learning something along the way.
Sometimes a good ass kicking is exactly what you need.
I’m writing this on Thursday night. The race was 4 days ago and I can’t go down a flight of stairs without some major discomfort. Yeah… the Eastern states 20 kicked my ass.
and it was just what I needed.
