On Sunday October 11th I attempted the Royal Victoria Marathon. I was unable to finish it. [Garmin Data Available Here] This was my second marathon.
During the early 10 km, I ran at a solid clip working hard to keep the 4 hour pace bunny in sight. I was feeling generally strong though definitely not as fresh as I had during my successful 32km training runs.
Things started getting a bit fuzzy around 13km when I passed the point of the course where the marathon splits from the half-marathon. I knew I wouldn’t be returning to this point for another 20km. This was a psychological moment on the course where you know you are at the start of what will be a very difficult out-and-back segment.
Kilometers 13-21 were surprisingly more difficult than they had been in my training runs. I shrugged this off and chalked it up to maintaining a 5:40min/km pace (almost a full minute faster than my “long-run” average). I started slowing down pretty rapidly and my pace averaged around 6:00min/km for this stretch.
At around km 22, things started breaking down. My body started requiring me to take walk breaks. Not a good sign. It took every ounce of strength to make it past 23 km which signaled the tip of the out-and-back segment. I thought for sure the psychological benefit of running back would allow me to keep going. This wasn’t the case. My pace slowed to about 6:30min/km
Each new kilometer started getting more and more hazy. I was having a hard time focusing. I got confused and took gels at the 23 and 26 km markers which went against my whole strategy. It was clear that I wasn’t going to make it.
At the 27 km mark I walked up to the first volunteer I saw and said “Umm.. I might need aid. I’m done.” The poor kids were confused but said they’d check their book to see what to do. In the meantime they pointed to a park bench. I hobbled over to it and sat down. Nausea flooded my body. A spectator came up to me with a bottle of water. I was quite disoriented and not really processing things correctly. But sitting was helping and it only took 10 minutes or so for my body to settle down.
A volunteer coordinator made it to the check-point, walked up to me, and called in to dispatch. I was able to rationally state that I didn’t need medical attention at this point and only required transportation 15km back to the Finish line.
So I waited on the park bench overlooking Oak Bay on a beautifully sunny Fall day. Mt. Baker was clearly visible on the horizon. I attempted to cheer as runners passed but emotionally I was destroyed. I cried, I was angry, I was relieved, I was everything.
The transport vehicle arrived after 30minutes. They were already carrying two other runners that hadn’t made it. We circled around the course and picked up a few more. Some were in far worse shape than me. Our full van arrived at the Finish line where we were guided through the chute to be “de-chipped”. On our way out, volunteer after volunteer tried to put a finisher medal around my neck. All I could do was shake my head in shame and say “I didn’t finish”. I hurried out of the chute, propelled forward by the shame. I walked back down the course to find Melinda.
Sure enough, about 100 meters from the Finish Line, there was Melinda waiting, watching intently, trying to see me as I rush through during the final stretch. I come up to her and she looks back at me, surprised. I break into tears.
Looking back there were three main causes for my failure.
1. Inconsistent training.
2. Bad pacing.
3. Lingering chest cold & mild fever.
1 & 2 was pure cockiness. I had successfully finished the Vancouver Marathon in May and I had a built up confidence that “of course I could finish again”. While I logged some longer runs during my training, the overall consistency of it wasn’t there. In terms of pace, I was attempting a pace almost a minute faster than I averaged in my long training runs. This definitely wasn’t wise and burned me out far too quickly on the course.
As for number 3, what became clearly after the race was that I had a fever and bad chest cold. The chest cold was making it incredibly difficult to breathe on the course. The fever was making my body temperature bounce all over the place. You should never run with a fever or chest cold. I’m amazed I made it 27km with both.
I plan to run a half-marathon or two this fall to regain some lost confidence. Then I’m going to start working towards a much more aggressive training plan. I will run another marathon in 2010, and I promise I will finish it.
Melinda, my parents, and my running friends were all very supportive during my emotional recovery period.
I’ve learned a hard lesson. You cannot cheat a marathon. You must have a strong training base. You must be strong on race day. You must have a race strategy and stick to it. But most of all, you must have a strong support network to help you reach your goals.
