Marshal Marathon Race Recap 11-5-17

Setting down this morning, I wanted to recount my experience yesterday.

Going in to the race yesterday, I was expecting it to be warm if not hot. From 10 days out the weather man said it would be in the 40s, but my race morning morning, the temperate was going to be a mile 60 degrees at 8 am and mid 70s by the time that I would be finishing.

Having run a few warm weather marathons, my experiences were not been the most positive. However, rather than dwell on these past struggles, I decided to focus on the things that I could control - mainly my pace and my hydration.

By the way, the race starts with the firing of a cannon. Who knew that such a small cannon, could make such a loud bang.

Off we sent heading toward the east end of Huntington to brick street. Yes, we literally turn on to a street paved in bricks and run for 2 blocks. The bricks are so uneven from years of abuse that I have no choice but to slow down. As quick as we were on the bricks, we were off.

Back on 5th street, the runners start to stretch out. The 1/2 marathoners are pushing a head while us full marathoners are taking stock of who we are going to be around for the next several hours.

I found myself in a small group of 4. One guy never says a word and hangs just to our rear. The 2 place woman in the 1/2 marathon and guy in his 20s running his first marathon. We chat back and forth which helps pass the earlier miles.

We pass by the bakery and the smell of fresh back bread is intoxicating to the an unfeed stomach. We pass over the timing map at 6.1 miles. I am right at 40 minutes.

From here we pick up the Ritter Park tow path. The grit is hard back but it does seem to give the legs a break from the asphalt. We round the park, and head back on to the roads again.

Under the train trussle. I slow and allow my legs to just coast down the hill and make the slow climb up the other side.

I barely notice that we have passed the 10 mile mark.


The heat is picking up. Every few minutes, I am wiping the sweat from my forehead. Something else I noticed. I take the Gatorade chews during the race. I barely seemed to have soak one down, and I taking another.

We jump back over along the Ohio river for a short distance. I am continuing to grab water at every waterstop. I keep reminding myself that taking water is of the utmost importance today. Once the scales tip too far toward being dehydrated, I will never get them back during the race until I walk.

I am also reminding myself to keep my pace in check. A few times, I feel my breathing become labored and have to remind myself to slow down.

Marathon runners are directed through the Marashall University Campus, and then we run miles 14 and 15 in the reverse direction to our opening two miles. I pass across the 1/2 mat in just under 1 hour and 26 minutes.

With the 1/2 and full marathoner have split up, I see a runner a couple of hundred meters in front of me. He is like my carrot. I have to chase him. I am making slow gains on him, and I finally pull up behind him when we pass the start finish area and head out on our second loop.

We chat for a few minutes. I learn that this is his 50 state marathon, and he is in my age group. If I am going to win my age, I am going to have to beat him. I catch one more runner around 18 miles.

Picking up the Ritter Park path for the second time, I can get a good gauge of how far that I am head of them.

Did I forget to mention, the temperate was 65 degrees at the 1/2 point. But now, the sun seems to be burning my shoulders.

I am waiting off the sweat and drinking at every aid station. Sometimes, I am taking two cups.

Gong by the 24 mile mark for the 4th time, I have no rgegrets about not seeing it again. Mile mark 25 sets at the top of the ever so slight incline. My quads are feeling it but perhaps my hamstrings feel it more.

Passing through the campus for a second time, I know there is not much left. I urge the last out of my legs. I

I had forgotten that the football dips down. Oh, why does it hurt so much to run downhill.

This year, we all get our own football to carry to the finish and keep. I take my hand off like a running back hitting the line of scrimmage. Suddenly, I am using both hands to hold it. Being covered in sweat, makes the ball extremely slippery. I run the next 80 yards while attempting to not drop it.

A finish line never looked so nice. My time is 2:52:20, and I finished 4th overall. This puts me as the first Male Masters runner.

Given the conditions, I could not have been more happier with the race. I paced  my self well enough in the heat that I nearly ran even splits for the race. I was only 40 second slower over the second half of the race. 


The Cool Down Runner

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