Tom's Fifth Big Sur Marathon (2006) I had somewhat foolishly set a goal of qualifying for the Boston Marathon at Big Sur, which, due to all the hills (about 1700 feet of total climbing) is one of the toughest in the country. If you're a 56 year old male geezer like I am, you need to finish a qualifying marathon in 3:45. Well, actually in 3:45:59, since they round the seconds down. I did the calculation in the hotel room the night before and that works out to an average of 8:34.89 minute miles. It's sort of interesting to run a race completely against the clock instead of against the other runners. For me, it was a great double-standard: It didn't bother me a bit to have people pass me if I was on track, but I still enjoyed passing people, especially relay-runners (more about that later). It was a huge advantage for me to have run the race 4 times previously, since I've got a very good idea of where and how bad the hills are. I ran Big Sur the previous year in about 3:52, so I "only" needed about 7 more minutes (I guess technically, 7 LESS minutes), but looked at from the pessimist's point of view, that's about 15 seconds per mile faster. But this year I was pretty religious about doing the "right" things in training, and if the weather was decent (not too hot or too big a headwind) I figured I'd have a fighting chance. I'm really indebted to my friend Chris, who served as a sort of coach for me. Not only did she suggest workouts, but she ran a lot of them with me, including many of the brutal "intervals" which involve a series of runs for a fixed distance or time at relatively high speed separated by shorter rests where you walk or jog. We also did a bunch of very long trail runs together, where not only did I get a great workout but was introduced to a bunch of "ultra-marathon" friends of Chris whom I really enjoyed meeting and running with. I'll never forget when somebody asked how the training was going about a week before the race, and I said I was done with the hard stuff, and was just going to take it easy for the final week. Chris was there, and immediately corrected me: "No! You're going to do the following intervals on the Tuesday before the (Sunday) race..." Yes coach! So I did those intervals on Tuesday. My wife Ellyn and I spent the day before the marathon walking very slowly around Monterey, visiting the aquarium, et cetera, and finally met for a dinner with a whole bunch of folks, many of whom I'd done training runs with. For some, it was their first marathon, and others had done a bunch, including Big Sur. It was a very enjoyable meal; we met new people, and must have bored the hell out of some of the significant others (who were not runners) with the totally obsessive race strategy discussions. Some of the first-timers were very careful about what they ate (pasta and salmon with no sauce, and stuff like that), but I knew it didn't really matter, with 12 hours to digest it as long as I didn't get roaring drunk. I had a huge salad, huge pasta and salmon entree, wine and a huge tiramisu for dessert. (I also had a couple of glasses of wine back at the hotel to make SURE I got a good night's sleep.) I got up at 3:30 am and got dressed, ate a hard-boiled egg, a bagel and a double latte before getting on the bus from Monterey to the start at Big Sur. It was a weird bus with tables and pairs of seats facing the tables, so since it was pitch black outside for the ride down and there was really no scenery to see, my three table-mates and I just told marathon war-stories. It's lucky that all of us had done a bunch of them, since the stories probably would have scared the shit out of a first-timer. After all, when everything goes according to plan, there's hardly ever a good story; the "good" stories concern times when something went terribly wrong ... The weather was good: no wind and about 50 degrees, predicted to get up to a high of about 60, so I knew I wouldn't be able to use the weather as an excuse. There were 3000 runners for the marathon, but when I lined up with the people who expected to be going at an 8:30 pace, there weren't too many in front of me: after the starting gun went off, I got to the starting line in about 30 seconds. (It doesn't matter when you get to the line in one sense, since your time is determined by an RFID chip you tie to your shoe, and electronic pickups on the ground at the start and finish record the times that you pass, so your "chip time" is just the difference of the two.) It is nice to start toward the front, since it's less crowded and you can start running at your preferred pace pretty quickly without having to dodge too many bodies. I had an almost-new Garmin Forerunner 305 watch/GPS unit/heart monitor and I used it heavily for the whole race. The numbers most important to me were heart rate, average pace and instantaneous pace. I've found in all my training that as long as my heart rate doesn't get above about 160 bpm, it comes right down again when I ease up, either by going slower, or by going downhill. If I get above that, it sometimes won't come down, which is catastrophic. (The catastrophic occurred two years ago at Big Sur on the climb to Hurricane Point when I got my rate up to above 180 and it wouldn't go below 160 for the rest of the race, no matter how much I slowed down. That's what makes a "good" marathon war story.) So on every climb, I kept an eagle-eye on the heart monitor, and I'd try to push harder if it was below 155 and I'd start backing off at 157 or 158. For the first part of the race it only hit 160 or 161 a couple of times. I had a little scare at about mile 6 when I looked at my instantaneous pace and saw that it was about 8:10. (Remember that to qualify for Boston, I had to average about 8:34.) Even though in theory my brain was supposed to be functioning well at only 6 miles into the race, I got a brain-fart and thought, "Uh-oh. I'd better pick it up." So I sped up to a 7:34 pace on a gentle uphill, and although I could do it, I was thinking that I'd never be able to maintain that pace for the whole race. Finally, I remembered that I needed only 8:34, not 7:34! I fully expect my brain to do strange things near the end of a marathon, but not at the very beginning. But it sure felt good to back off to about 8:15... There is a really nasty hill starting at mile 10 and going to about mile 12 called "Hurricane Point". I was actually doing pretty well at that point: my average pace was 8:15, so that meant I had about 190 seconds "in the bank", in the sense that I'd still be on target for Boston if I lost 190 seconds on the climb up to Hurricane Point. I did drop the pace to between 9:30 and sometimes even 10:00 on the climb, but all I was really paying attention to was the heart rate and keeping it between 155 and 158. I was pleased that the pace didn't drop too much and figured that even at 10:00 per mile for the whole two miles, I'd be about even at the top and I actually lost only about 90 total seconds so I still had 100 "in the bank". But I found that I could open it up so wide on the downhill that my pace was close to 7:00 all the way down the other side and my heart rate was only in the high 140s, and by the time things leveled out, I was back to an 8:17 average pace. There's nothing flat after Hurricane Point: it's always going up or going down, and I'd watch the heart monitor when I was going up, and watch the pace on the downhill parts, and by mile 17 or so I was back to an 8:15 average pace, at which point I became very confident that I could make it to Boston. It was getting harder to do the mental math, but I did manage to do the 17x(8:34.89-8:15) = about 340 seconds in the bank, and then with about 9 miles to go I reasoned that I could slow down to 8:34+ (340/9) = 8:34 + a bit more than :37 = more than 9:11 miles, which, since I was still cranking out the 8:15 miles with no real problems made me very confident. At about mile 20 there's a bad, steep hill from the ocean up into the Carmel Highlands, and there's another sort of nasty hill in the last mile, but neither of them cost me too much time. I was getting a bit tired at mile 20, but didn't feel terrible, so I decided that beginning at mile 23 I would ignore the heart monitor and just let her rip, since it's only a bit over 3 miles. I did that, and the heart rate for the last 3 miles averaged in the high 160s, but although it didn't feel great, the final time did: 3:38:14 -- Boston with seven minutes to spare! I really didn't meet many people on the run. I ran for a couple of miles near the beginning with one of my training partners, but he was going too fast for me, so I just let him go, and he finished fabulously in about 3:31. I'd done a huge percentage of my training on hilly courses, and I'll bet that wasn't the case for most runners there, so Hurricane Point didn't do the damage to me that it did to most. I passed people all the way up, and after that, I mostly passed people and very few passed me. I did run for short periods talking to other runners, but usually they'd fall back. In addition to the standard marathon, there's a marathon relay for teams of 5 people, and although there are some very good teams, I would never see them since they could go so much faster. But there were a lot of teams that were not "very good teams", typically made of people for whom a 5 or 6 mile segment was a big deal, and it was particularly enjoyable in the last few miles to pass relay runners who had only been going for 3 or 4 miles. In the Monterey Herald the day before the race there was a "controversy" about whether you can really say you ran a marathon if you walk any part of it. A famous runner named James Galloway has popularized a method that includes a minute of walking every so often: every 30 seconds if you're in terrible shape to every 10 minutes if you're strong. He claims that a lot of people get better times doing this, assuming they start at the very beginning, and not at mile 18 after they've blown up. At the beginning, you see lots of people doing this, but they got pretty sparse toward the end, except for one gal who passed me and I passed her perhaps 20 times in the race since she was walking every mile or so, but running quite fast otherwise. It was impossible not to notice her: dressed all in black with hair dyed pitch black for a "goth look", except that she had dyed parts of her hair bright pink and the long hair was filled with pink ribbons. The Galloway strategy sure seemed to be working for her! About two days before the marathon, there was an incredibly funny column in the same newspaper that I'll append to the end of this. It's advice for your competitors. I was pretty tired at the end, and some photos that Ellyn took of me at the finish indicate that my form goes to hell when I'm tired and trying to go fast. The last half mile was at about a 6:40 pace, which is stupidly fast for me. Especially since all I needed was a 3:45 and with only two miles to go I was so far ahead of that that nothing short of a heart attack would have prevented me from qualifying. I did talk to a bunch of first-timers during and after the race, and I think it made them feel pretty good when I told them, "Wow! You certainly couldn't have picked a harder first marathon to do!" Well, at least it made the ones who had finished it feel better ... Here are the official statistics: Total athletes: 2947 (1123 F; 1824 M) Overall place: 305 Final time: 3:38:41 (= 8:19 pace) Age: 56 Class M55-59 Class Rank: 10 of 146 Sex Rank: 262 Chip final time: 3:38:14 -------- From the April 27 Monterey Herald -------- Some advice (wink, wink) for our competitors by Donald Buraglio and Mike Dove The running life The 21st running of the Big Sur International Marathon is Sunday. The two of us tend to be very competitive on race day, but in the spirit of sportsmanship, we've compiled some advice for our out-of-town competitors who may be new to the Big Sur course. So if you plan on beating us, just follow these simple guidelines. ** Worry a lot about the weather: The fog can be so thick you might lose your way. It might rain the entire morning. And the wind! When it's not blowing directly in your face, it can potentially blow you right off the road. There are so many conditions beyond your control, the only thing you can do is lie awake worrying about them. ** Squeeze in one last run: We know you're unsure if all of your training was enough. Go reassure yourself by doing a hard workout on Saturday. Try a long run along the coast or a shorter run at race speed. Now you're ready for sure. ** Enjoy a great Monterey restaurant: Take an opportunity on Saturday night to savor some world-class Monterey Peninsula dining. Make a reservation at about 10 p.m. to avoid the dinner time crowds. Eat a heavy, fattening dinner and consume a bottle or two of our great Monterey County wine. Finish off dinner with some tiramisu, a cheese plate, a B-52 Latte, and a good cigar. You're worth it! ** Liven up the morning bus ride: Drink as much as you can before getting on the bus ride to the start. The 75-minute ride really doesn't seem that long, and school buses are a lot less bumpy than they used to be. Keep hydrating like crazy on the bus ride. When in doubt -- take another drink! Also, make sure you learn as much as possible about the person next to you on the bus. Talk incessantly and be nosy. You never know, you might find your soulmate. ** Best to overdress: Don't bother with the sweats check in the morning -- just wear your warmest clothes for the whole marathon. Don't believe the hype about moisture-wicking fabrics. You're better off in a cotton long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt and sweatpants. Wear a rain hat over your stocking cap, so you'll be ready for cold or rain. Remember: fear the weather! ** Experiment a lot: Just because something works for you in training doesn't mean you should stick with it on race day. Why be boring? Try something different on Sunday. Buy some fancy new clothes at the race expo and wear them in the race. Never had sport beans before? What better time to try them than race day! Break out those new lightweight racing flats you've been waiting to wear for the first time. ** Fight for position: Line up as close to the start line as possible, so nobody gets in your way. All those people lining up behind the elites are suckers. Of course, when you're up that far, remember to... ** Blast off the start line: The first four miles are the easiest on the course. Take advantage and cut as much time as possible off your target pace -- it's like putting money in the bank! Who knows, all that adrenaline and excitement might carry you through the entire race. Run those early miles as fast as you possibly can, because the course gets hillier and harder later. Pacing yourself is for chumps. ** Keep your eyes on the yellow line: Remember, your only goal is to run fast. Block out all the beautiful scenery around you -- it will only distract from your task. If you want to see the ocean and cliffs and cows, come back another day and drive the road like everybody else does. Don't even listen to the music. Stay focused on the line in the middle of the road. The race is all that matters. ** Hurricane Point is bad: Hurricane Point is two miles of horrible climbing. It's best to get it over with as quickly as possible. Charge forward and pass everyone ahead of you. All the walkers will think you're a total stud (or studette) that way. Those people won't see you later in the race, so go for it! ** Run really fast on the downhills: The best way to make up time from all the uphills is to hammer the downhill sections. Regain any lost time as quickly as you can. All the minutes you lose going up Hurricane Point can be made up by flying wildly down the backside. Run like a maniac! ** Embrace the camber of the road: The hardest part of the Big Sur Marathon is miles 21 to 24 through the steep hills of Carmel Highlands. Lucky for you the road starts to slant a lot in this section also. Don't bother with the flatter portions in the middle of the road -- always take the most cambered part on the tangents to save a few extra seconds. Your legs will deal with it later. ** Spend some time on D-minor hill at D-major time: The last hill on the course is a slope from Monastery Beach to Carmel Meadows at the beginning of Mile 26. It's such a tough climb that you might as well just sit by the side of the road and cry. On the plus side, there are belly dancers there to keep you company. ** Enjoy the ride to the finish: Not many people get to cross the finish line in the "Meat Wagon" -- so if this happens, consider yourself one of the lucky ones! Once you're released from the medical tent, make sure you come up and thank us for our great advice. Good luck to everyone who is running on Sunday -- we wish all of you a wonderful day. We want to hear your stories -- good, bad, and unusual -- from race day. E-mail us and tell us how you did. In the final days of his training for the Big Sur International Marathon, sports editor Dave Kellogg visits the most painful stretch of the run. Go to: montereyherald.com to read about his experience. Buraglio and Dove can be reached at runninglife@runningandrambling.com. Go to montereyherald.com to see an archive of past articles or go to www.runningandrambling.com.