Manhattan Half - second time NOT a charm

Member

I had very high hopes for this race, for multiple reasons. In the last 2 months, especially the last 3 weeks, I've seen fantastic gains in all 3 sports, but most of all running. My mileage is high, and I still feel great. No aches or pains, no problems whatsoever. The mental anguish of my taper (yes, I TAPERED!) was offset last week by two dinners with real ladies and a great rebuilding lunch on Friday with a friend with whom my relationship has been strained as of yet. I've never been mentally or physically stronger in my life, and I was better prepared for this race than any that has come before it. I didn't self-sabotage as I often do in the days leading up to the race, and my diet has been great: I've been really watching it since being diagnosed with chronic hyponatremia in mid July. After weeks of long runs of 15, 18, even 20 miles this "long run" would be a cakewalk. Really, I'm training better and smarter than I ever have. Plus my MP3 player made a miraculous return-from-the-dead recovery and worked Friday and Saturday! I was set, I was excited, and I was ready to redeem myself from last year's March of Death.

But the reality was much different.

The nightmare started on Saturday. Since the race started so early, it didn't offer same day packet pickup. I drove from Philly to my hometown in NJ, then immediately hopped on a bus into Port Authority. After 2 subway rides I emerged on the streets of Central Park West and walked 4 blocks up, 3 over to NYRRC headquarters. It was 95 degrees, and the humidity was as high. I couldn't resist grabbing two slices and eating them and an ice cream in Central Park West. It rained the night before, so I hoped the weather would be better, cooler.

It was, by only 7 degrees. Humidity in the high 90s.

I get up at 4 (well, really 2am: I slept for only 2 hours on and off until 2 because I was so excited for the race), out by 430. Pick up DD breakfast, drive into the city via the Lincoln Tunnel. Score free parking on the west side by the finish pretty easy and then realize it's ... 510. Race starts between 7-720.

Wait a bit, then at 530 decide to trek across Central Park to the east side where the race started. Got a little freaked out, crossing in the dark, hearing every little sound and thinking this weird dude was following me. Usual song and dance before race time. Go to the start at 650, then go back for one last pitstop. The open start to accommodate the volume of runners helped; I started at 713-ish.

The race started out so well. Mile 1, I felt great. I went out a little too fast, like I always do, but I had planned ahead. I had a strategy, and 3 backups "just in case". I figured despite the heat and humidity I might PR - I've been running fast lately. Mile 1 confirmed this, but I knew I needed to slow down a bit. Mile 2 I was right on my targeted pace, but began feeling a little dizzy. No big deal: it was really humid so it was difficult to breathe, and my tank was already soaked through.

Then my MP3 broke for a final time at mile 2.5. I would be forced to listen to my horrid breathing until the end.

No problem, I've done bigger things lately. Mile 3 I'm holding steady, and figure if I can hold the pace a PR is in my sights. My goal changes to having fun when I get dizzier during mile 4, especially because now my legs feel like they're in quicksand. My stride shortens, and it's difficult just to put my feet in front of one another. My goal changes to finish smiling. My shorts are now soaked, too, and my salt tablets dissolve in my shorts pocket. This is bad news as the Gatorade is so diluted it looks like urine (and it tasted really bad, too). Miles 5 and 6 are like 4. Form gone, legs can barely move. Somewhere during mile 6 I grabbed some Gatorade, not realizing it was the concentrate. HOT DAMN DID I GET A KICK! My heart began racing even more; later I'm told this single cup of concentrate completely destroyed whatever small semblance of electrolyte balance I had (which wasn't much). My goal becomes to just finish and get another race towards my coveted patch. I get to the finish (mile 7 on the first loop, and see my split). No problem, I can get this back on track. I overhear an announcer scream that if anyone wanted to drop out of the race, they could and have it still count for NYCM qualifying in 2005 but no score would be given. I wanted my Grand Prix patch for the 2nd year in a row, and I needed this race since I skipped the Bronx half to run Utica. Could not stop, but I was so tempted. I then thought how disappointed a few friends would be, knowing how hard and well I was training. I then thought that for the past three months I've raced in hot and humid conditions, and I've trained at home and in 3 Southern states on 4 separate weeks. If I can live through that, I could certainly do this. I then

<fade to black>

Next thing I know I'm in the med tent. Only a scarce few will get the details of this story, but suffice it to say that 3 paramedics worked me for an hour. I don't remember the last 6.1 miles of this race AT ALL. I have no idea why I faded so fast, so hard, and why the end result occurred. I thought long and hard about it during the 115 mile drive home, and then at home when I sank into my couch exhausted. I do know a few things:

1. I really love drives in and out of Manhattan that take 25 minutes apiece (early ride in, sure, but close to lunch on a Saturday? thank you RNC).

2. I have met more EMS in NYC than I care to count.

3. This race pummeled, asskicked, and destroyed me more than any other. This includes the behemoth monster tri. I have never been more mentally or physically exhausted after a race. I only began to really feel better after a late lunch at 3pm.

4. I'm sure distance from today will change this, but I'm not angry or frustrated. I'm just numb, a little confused for I cannot figure out why this happened. They had redrawn the course from last year, and this was by NYC standards a very easy course. Just rolling hills. Certainly a lot easier than how I've been training.

5. Every half marathon I learn something. This time I relearned that I can, despite badly stacked odds, pull a finish out of my ass.

I am getting tired of being reminded of this particular lesson.

Stats: 2:35:09, 11:50 pace. 5,533/5,790 finishers (as usual, 4% of the pack behind me: I have no idea how many dropped out but it was a bunch). Splits: 10:11, 10:48, 10:46, 11:23, 11:40, 11:25, 12:04, 12:28, 12:25, 13:02, 13:01, 12:34, 12:19, 1:03 (.1).

I can't tell you if I walked or not, if I talked or not, if I weaved to and fro. My splits suggest I did. I did get a nasty unidentified bruise on my right thigh, which judging from the height looks like I ran into a water station table

. So despite being super prepared, the wheels fell off the cart. I tried to figure out why, but cannot. I won't dwell on it - I can't afford that luxury: I'll simply look ahead to the next race.

Which is a nice easy sprint triathlon in Marlton Lakes, NJ on Saturday.

Member

Holy crap! Shocked

Glad you're not injured or sick(er) from this! Wow...

Member

Very interesting report. Glad you are all right. I think anytime someone is running distances more than 10 miles in high heat and humidity, the body will sometimes react in unpredictable ways trying to protect itself. And them sometimes there are just those races that for whatever reason get the best of you when you are least expecting it.

Member

Geez!

I'm glad you're alright now. Running in humidity is awful. Sad

Member

Wow that sounds rough. Shocked

Member

That sucks. I'm glad you weren't more seriously injured or had longer lasting ill effects.

Former FFL Champion

POTFH

Former FFL Champion

How did you get your splits?

Was it chip timed with splits taken automatically?

Or did you somehow manage to remember to hit your watch at the mile markers?

If you think about it, either way is kind of impressive.

Manhattan Half - second time NOT a charm

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