Update: Mostly Better, Pursuing XC

I’m now mostly recovered from my bizarre bike crash.  I’m able to work out again, I have no pain, and the bump in my abdomen is much diminished from its earlier state.  I might have a minor hernia, but I can’t feel any difference on a day-to-day basis.

I was unable to exercise at all for a couple of weeks after the accident, and it was a couple of weeks after that before I felt comfortable training for real.  As a result, I lost a huge amount of fitness.  For example, my zone 2 running pace was about 30 seconds per mile slower when I first tried some easy workouts.

I had been planning on doing a couple of late-season triathlons, but with the huge fitness loss at a critical point in the training cycle, I wasn’t feeling very psyched about doing some tris just to finish, knowing that my performance wouldn’t be all that good.

Coincidentally, the opportunity to try some fall cross-country running popped up while I was unable to exercise.  I’ve never run cross country, but I do like trying new endurance sports challenges.  The cross country season fits well into the fall, and I have just enough time to do a training cycle before the season ends in November.

So, for the fall, I’m joining the Eastside Runners Cross Country Team.  I did a first practice with them yesterday, and it is clear that cross country attracts some good runners!  It was a struggle to keep up with the fast workout, not having run fast since early July.  I’m pretty psyched to try a more team-oriented endurance sport.  It will be fun to do a training cycle where the focus is middle-distance running, something I have never specifically targeted.  Maybe I can set some 5k and 10k PRs in addition to hopefully helping out the team’s masters division.

A Different Sort of Report

I bike a lot, usually between one hundred and two hundred miles a week.  I’m well aware of the risks involved, which I have always assessed as primarily about having an excessively close encounter with a couple of tons of fast-moving steel.

A situation I didn’t assess as dangerous is riding in a deserted parking lot where the only things moving within 50 yards are air molecules.

Especially when I am riding at a speed of about 7 MPH.

Having fallen incorrectly, I now stand corrected.

What happened?
Monday, my wife Lynn and I ordered some take-out sushi for dinner.  Our normal sushi place is closed on Mondays, so we ordered from another place about a mile away.  That’s too far to walk easily, but it is way too short to drive on a beautiful summer evening.  So I put on my helmet and jumped on my mountain bike.

After about eight minutes casually riding through Queen Anne’s residential streets, I cut through a parking lot next to the restaurant.  The lot was empty, and I was going slowly as I was about thirty yards from my destination.

Suddenly something happened: the pedals were locked and I was falling forward while my bike was stationary.  The bike fell on its side with the flat mountain bike handlebars pointing straight up.  My abdomen fell right on top of the handlebars, taking nearly all of my weight.

Very shaken up, I looked back, wondering what caused the fall.  Maybe the chain came off the cassette and locked up the rear wheel?  The chain was off the chainring and the cogs, but the crash might have caused that.  Maybe I clipped a curb?  I don’t know.  I suspect the curb.

I dusted myself off, and a pedestrian who had heard the fall came over and asked if I was hurt.  My gut hurt and there was a protrusion, but I thought I was OK.  I picked up the sushi and gingerly (pun intended) rode home.

Home
It wasn’t bad riding, but when I got home and put the bike back in its hooks in the garage ceiling, I knew I wasn’t doing well.  I told Lynn that I’d crashed, and when I showed her my belly and asked "do you think we should go to the emergency room?" she was adamant that we go immediately.

She grabbed our toddler Aiden and told me to get into the car.  Figuring that this would be like most of my prior visits to the emergency room where I spend a lot of time sitting around waiting for someone to see me, I grabbed my computer bag so I could get some work done.

Car Ride
Maybe from the jostling of the car, I started feeling much worse during the ride.  I had a cold sweat.   The pain was growing.  Lynn told me I had no color in my face.  Now I knew that going to the emergency room was the right thing.  When we arrived, it was hard for me to get out of the car and walk into the Swedish Hospital emergency room.

Swedish
"I need to see someone," I said to the emergency room receptionist.  She asked me to wait a moment, as she had to check in someone else.  I leaned against the wall.  I was declining.  Fortunately, I had to wait only a couple of minutes before she called me, and I handed her my insurance card.   I had trouble answering her questions, as talking was difficult.  After the basics of checkin, she told me to have a seat. 

A minute later, my wife arrived from parking the car.  Almost simultaneously the triage nurse called my name.  We started the Q&A routine, but I could not really talk, and I was starting to shake.  She correctly aborted the Q&A, and then I experienced what happens when an emergency room thinks someone is truly in trouble.  She got in the PA system and said with some urgency "we need a room for the abdominal injury, and call the doctor!"  There would be no sitting around for me on this night.

They put me in a wheelchair and took me to a room where numerous nurses and other staff were waiting for me.  Within minutes, I had IVs in both arms, oxygen in my nose, warm blankets, shirt cut off, various devices attached to monitor my vital signs.  I was now shaking severely.  Lynn was looking seriously scared and stressed, but Aiden seemed fascinated by all the tubes and wires.  Lynn had to grab him so he wouldn’t pull on them.

They asked questions, often repeatedly.  Their voices were filled with confidence and urgency.  "His pulse is only 48!" a nurse yelled, expecting the situation to elevate my heartbeat and worried that I was crashing.

"Normal… resting… high 30s" I managed to get out.  They seemed slightly reassured.

A senior doctor came, and he made his decision instantly.  He sat down next to me.  "Dave, there are a lot of important organs in your belly like your liver, spleen and small intestines, and you have quite an injury there.  I am worried that you may have damaged your organs, and you may need surgery.  I am going to send you to the trauma center at Harborview.  It is a four-minute ride in an ambulance.  That make sense?"  His concern was obvious.  I nodded.

Five paramedics were there within minutes.  They asked more questions, then wheeled me out to the ambulance.  Lynn told me later that they also brought a fire truck.

Ambulance
As a precaution, they put me on a backboard and in a neck brace, apologizing for the discomfort.  The upbeat and professional paramedic sitting with me gave me an overview of what to expect at Harborview. I tried to be comparably optimistic, and I surely felt quite thankful for all the help these people were giving me.

He asked me how I got to Swedish, and I told him that my wife drove me.  Trying to cheer me up, he told me "the one guy who actually needs our ambulance walks into the emergency room.  Nice."  At this point, however, I was in no shape to walk.

Harborview, part 1
One word summarizes the first part of my experience at Harborview: competence.  The well-oiled machine checked everything: joints, nervous system, eyesight, vitals and of course my abdomen.  These people were really good at what they were doing; Harborview deserves its reputation for being a world-class trauma center.

The initial exam found nothing of note other than the obvious abdominal injury.  I wasn’t shaking any more.  They sent me off to have what seemed like fifty X-Rays, focusing initially on my abdomen but also checking out my spine, neck, arms, legs and hands.  "It is the protocol" the main doctor explained when I told her that I was pretty sure that my spine wasn’t injured.

To do the abdominal X-Rays, they put me in a huge cat scan machine and injected something into my bloodstream which helps to highlight in the X-Rays where the blood is going.  This substance has a side effect that makes blood go to the skin, so for a couple of minutes I felt strangely hot.

They developed all these X-Rays, and soon the doctor came back to give me the diagnosis.  In short, there was nothing seriously wrong with any internal organs.  The huge protrusion sticking two inches out of my belly was just fluid, not blood.  "We’re probably going to keep you overnight for observation, but the odds are that we don’t need to do anything."

Harborview, part 2
I then went from high priority to the bottom of the list in the Harborview emergency room.  Still on the hard backboard, I laid there while they handled other cases while my exceptionally supportive wife hung out with me.  Staff came and went, and, except for Fran, the helpful nurse who dropped by every thirty minutes or so, I was about as interesting to them as the sink.  They understandably had other priorities now.

I could hear the doctors and nurses talking to a fellow across the way who had been flown from Alaska.  He had been in a fight with his girlfriend and shot himself in the head.  There was a bullet in his brain, and he could not move his left side.  Eventually, they sent him off for brain surgery.

Moments later, his spot was filled by a 56-year-old who had been shot in the chest.  Police found him thirty minutes after the shooting.  They were trying to resuscitate him, but it was clear even to this layperson that he was not doing well at all.  They wheeled him off for some sort of surgery, but I later read in the Seattle Times that he didn’t make it (article here, search for "56").

Finally, a few folks came to take me off the backboard and remove the neck brace.  Having spent a few hours lying on the hard wood, I was quite glad to be off of that thing. A while after that, they admitted me to the hospital and took me to a room where we spent the night.  They discharged me at noon the next day.

After
Three days later, I am quite sore and badly bruised with a huge protrusion in my belly.  I look like I am either a few months pregnant or I have an alien growing inside me.  Flexing my abdominal muscles hurts a lot, so even simple stuff like walking is a little painful.  I won’t be able to swim, bike or run for several more days at least.  Maybe in a week or so?

We ate the sushi for lunch the next day.

Learnings 
I often wrap up race reports with learnings, so…

• Pay attention even when doing the most casual rides (duh).
• When hospital staff really thinks you are in trouble, they are seriously good at taking care of things.
• Falling on top of flat handlebars sucks.
• Sometimes, it is OK to call an ambulance.

Funny TdF Inteview

At this time of year, I like watching the Tour de France on Versus–it is like a reality TV show for endurance athletes.  There are many layers and stories to follow, and I also feel like I learn about cycling by watching these guys do it so well.

My favorite moment so far in this year’s Tour is the interview that Versus did with Stefan Shumacher.  Shumacher has a great time trial in stage 4 to take the yellow jersey, but then he crashed near the end of stage 6 and lost the jersey.  The funny moment in this interview was really easy to miss; listen carefully right up until the end, and remember that this is a broadly available cable network.

http://images.video.msn.com/flash/soapbox1_1.swf

Somewhere, George Carlin is chuckling.

The Runner Stumbles, but the Race Directors Don’t

Putting on a good endurance sports race must be a challenge.  I have no experience with endurance sports from the race director’s perspective, but satisfying all the stakeholders–athletes, spectators, sponsors, volunteers, local officials–must require a lot of effort and discipline. 

When people send many months training for a race and pay a decent chunk of change for entry fees, they understandably have high expectations that any problems during the race result from their own physical and mental limitations, not race logistics.  Events like the 2007 Black Diamond Triathlon, the 2007 Chicago Marathon and the 2008 Seafair Marathon are tough to hear about, knowing were people disappointed because, in a way, their training and racing efforts counted for less due to factors beyond their control.

Of course, the vast majority of races don’t have issues of any real magnitude.  Still, there are often little issues like long check-in lines, confusion about directions, less than stellar post-race foods or awards, and more.  I try to be very understanding about this sort of stuff, knowing that there are a lot of things pulling on the race directors.

Today, I had the opportunity to do The Runner Stumbles 10k.  To give credit where credit is due, here’s email I sent to the race info email account:

From: David Treadwell
Sent: Sunday, July 06, 2008 1:37 PM
To: ‘runnerstumbles@hotmail.com’
Subject: great race!

Hi folks, I did your 10k this morning.

I wanted to pass on some positive feedback to you all: you ran a really great race.  The organization was really impressive, including:

· Very smooth checkin
· Especially impressive attention to detail by linking together four safety pins to make it easy for people to get them
· Started precisely on time
· Clear pre-race instructions
· Very well marked course
· Great volunteers at every turn where there was any possibility of confusion
· Nicely done awards ceremony including great food

All in all, I feel that this was one of the best organized endurance events I have ever done.  Thanks for putting on such a great race!

dave

Brief Race Report:  Although not a high-priority race for me, I had a fun time doing this one.  With fewer than 100 folks combined in the 10k and 5k, the small size meant for a very casual morning.  My family and I were staying out at the Suncadia Lodge, and since the race was held on the Suncadia property the logistics were easy. 

Knowing that this was a somewhat difficult course with numerous small hills, high winds in places, and lots of turns, I figured a PR (38:20) was unlikely, but I still hoped to go under 40 minutes.  Not having raced since Boston and having done only minimal training above zone 2, I was also looking for a fitness check from the race.

I treated the race as a zone 5 workout, basically trying to hit a constant effort around a 6:15 pace.  Here’s how the miles went:

Mile	Split	Avg HR	Comments
1	6:01	153	Mildly faster start than intended; latched on to a guy who passed me at about 0.6mi.
2	6:06	164	Stayed on the heels of that fellow into a rather strong headwind.  Good tactics, I think.
3	6:44	168	Lots of uphill in this mile including one very steep section. My pacer slowed a bit so I passed him.
4	6:14	168	Enjoyed the downhills.  Near the end of this mile, saw my former pacer about 150 yards back.
5	6:22	171	Just tried to maintain pace here through the pretty, paved trails.
6	6:34	172	Didn’t see anyone behind me and the leader was way ahead, so I backed off slightly.  Whimp.
6.2	1:12	174	My wife and sons cheered me on to the finish!

Total time 39:13, second place overall, first in M40-49.  Check out the official race results. 

Given the course difficulty, I feel pretty good about my time.  My Garmin 405 said that the total ascent was 965 feet, and while there were definitely a lot of small and mid-sized hills, I am pretty certain that is about double the actual ascent in the course.  I also wonder whether the fact that the prevailing altitude was around 2200 feet above sea level impacted my performance?  I couldn’t tell.

These small races don’t have the cachet of the big ones, but they sure are low-stress and fun in addition to being good training.

Running vs. Cycling

For the nine or so months preceding the Boston Marathon, I focused pretty much all of my training on running.  The only times I cycled were social events and a few exercise rides when I had some minor running injuries.  Since that race, I’ve re-started the cycling in order to get myself back in triathlon shape.  I’m doing roughly equal amounts of running and cycling, and in the process I’m remembering the pros and cons of each.  So here are some comparisons between the two sports in a variety of dimensions.

Overhead.  How long does it take to get ready to do it?  Running is pretty easy, just get on shoes, clothes and optionally a heart rate monitor and headphones, then go.  With cycling, there is much more stuff to deal with.  I have to get on the helmet and gloves, tighten up the shoes, pump up the tires, etc.  Winner: running.

Injuries.  Unless you’re careful, it is really easy to injure yourself while running.  The constant pounding is quite hard on the body.  Cycling, by contrast, has minimal injury risk from the actual cycling motion (more on safety below, though).  If a bike fits, it is pretty rare to get injured from cycling.  Winner: cycling.

Duration.  Due to the stressful nature and injury risks of running, it is hard to run huge distances.  I find that 2.5 hours is about my limit for a training run; going longer than that is too risky.  With cycling, no such limit applies.  Sure the saddle can get uncomfortable after many hours, and I get physically tired, but there’s not a hard limit like in running.  Winner: cycling.

Safety.  The need to share the road means risks with both cycling and running.  The difference in speeds and hence control, however, means that cycling is a lot more risky.  I can stop or change direction very quickly when running, whereas when cycling it takes more time and distance to avoid issues.  Running on sidewalks is easy and safe, but it is rarely smart when cycling due to the speeds and the fact that cars do not expect bikes on sidewalks.  Winner: running.

Fitness.  This one is a close call, since both running and cycling are good for fitness.  Ultimately I give the nod here to cycling, given that it has much higher limits on duration and lower injury risks.  Winner: cycling.

Headphones.  Listening to music or podcasts can make a workout more fun.  Due to safety issues, I almost never use when on the bike.  Using headphones does add a small amount of risk while running, but with moderate volume and extra attention, I feel that the risk is acceptable. Winner: running.

Gear cost.  Running requires a lot less gear than cycling, and running gear is generally less expensive.  While it is kinda fun to evaluate the different cycling gear options, it is also much more time and money to deal with it all.  Winner: running.

Route selection.  Selecting cycling routes can be challenging, as many factors come into play: traffic, safety, distance, and more.  While these factors are also relevant in selecting running routes, there are lots of places that are fine to run but where I would prefer not to bike.  Winner: running.

Distance.  Bikes can go faster, hence they can easily cover a lot more distance than a runner.  Winner: cycling.

Social.  It’s obviously possible both to run and to bike with other folks, and this can surely enhance the experience.  The challenge in working out with others is that people have different capabilities and desired paces.  It is pretty rare for me to run with others, however, because it is harder to match paces.  Cycling has one enormous advantage here: if your partners have a different desired pace, then you can paceline.  The aerodynamic benefit of pacelining can really level the playing field.  Winner: cycling.

Workout measurement.  A bike power meter is a wonderful device: it allows you to know exactly how hard you pedaled.  This allows you to do a workout exactly as hard as needed, and fitness measurement is much more precise.  With running, pace and heart rate are OK measurement tools, but there is much less accuracy in them, as they do not account for hills, wind, body state leading to HR variability, etc.  Winner: cycling.

Workout precision.  Typically when doing a workout, there is a specific goal for exertion and length.  Maybe it is a strict zone 2 workout; maybe it is hard intervals.  With running, it is usually pretty easy to find routes that accommodate a given type of workout.  With cycling, I find it harder to follow a workout more precisely.  Things like hills, traffic, stop signs, and more often strongly influence how hard I can pedal at a given point in time.  Staying in zone 2 is hard on a big hill.  Nailing a hard 10-minute interval in zone 4 or 5 is tough when there are stop signs or lights.  Winner: running. 

Weather impact.  While it is usually better to do both running and cycling in good weather, cycling in really bad conditions is harder than running in bad conditions.  When it is cold, dark and rainy, cycling is really hard, while running is still reasonably viable with decent clothes.  Fenders and other gear help make it more tolerable to bike in poor conditions, but it is still tougher.  The one weather circumstance when cycling wins is hot weather: the wind you make for yourself helps considerably when cycling, yet with running the speeds aren’t high enough to generate as much of a cooling effect.  Winner: running.

Commuting efficiency.  Because of the slower speeds and the distance of my commute, I usually need to include some time on the bus when I run commute.  With cycling, I can easily enough commute the entire distance.  Since I would rather be exercising than being on a bus, the bike wins.  Winner: cycling.

Summary

	Running	Cycling
Overhead	x
Injuries		x
Duration		x
Safety	x
Fitness		x
Headphones	x
Gear cost	x
Route selection	x
Distance		x
Social		x
Workout measurement		x
Workout precision	x
Weather impact	x
Commuting efficiency		x

Hmmm, looks like a 7-7 tie overall.  I guess I will keep doing both!

Boston Marathon Blog for David R. Treadwell, Jr.

(This race report is from my father, in his own words.  –David 3)

I took the first step of my Boston Marathon during a plane ride to Alaska last June. My wife Tina and I were sitting beside a young woman from Maryland who was flying to Anchorage to run a half-marathon for Team in Training. When I learned that Team in Training benefited the The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, I decided then and there that I should run the 2008 Boston Marathon in honor of my brother Tony who died of non-Hodgkins Lymphoma in December, 2006.  He’s on the left in the photo at right.

The next steps included getting accepted by Team in Training, raising funds and training. The fund-raising went well (I raised over $23,000, the most on the 153-member Team for the Boston Marathon, helped by son David’s support); the training went well, thanks to a fine training manual called Run Less, Run Faster. The approach calls for three “quality runs” a week plus two-days of cross training.

Let me say that I’m an experienced if not speedy runner. I tote along a few handicaps (age: 65; weight: 182; heart flutter – taking a beta blocker; and exercise-induced asthma -taking Advair), but I love being out there training for a race. And the chance to run Boston with David, or should I say, the same day as David, was most appealing. He had to qualify, and I was confident that he would, given his great success at triathlons and his highly competitive and disciplined nature.

David and I shared many emails during the months leading up to the race – usually upbeat, sometimes not, when a cramp or a “just a bad day” would arise.

I did most of my training on a treadmill or an indoor track at Bowdoin College, as the weather up here was so snowy and icy. I did run a 15 miler and a 20 miler with the Team and Training in Wellesely, but all the other runs were on my own. I ran 5 different 20-milers, and let’s just say that running 20 miles on a treadmill on a Saturday morning is a bit crazy.

The marathon weekend, itself, was a true life highlight with all the family and friends, the great hotel (the Lenox, right at the finish line), terrific crowds and good weather.

At the expo, I bought a shirt from Reebok and had “For Tony” put on the front and “Bone Marrow Brothers” put on the back, as I had given him bone marrow three years before he died. The shirt proved to be a smart move.

Race day dawned bright and early as we met in the hotel lobby at 6:15 a.m. to head over to the Boston Common to take one of the many school buses headed out to Hopkinton – 26.2 miles to the west. What a mob of talented runners, heading to the buses from every direction. Everyone was in high spirits. David and I were fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

“Athlete’s Village” at Hopkinton is another amazing site. 25,000 runners from all over the world, spread out over high school athletic fields. About half, statistics suggest, had qualified for the race, and the rest got in through exemptions – raising money from a charity, being a celebrity or a fireman, policeman, etc.

I was able to introduce David to Rick, my fine Team in Training coach which was cool. He, too, was appreciative of David’s fine support to Team in Training. A fine runner, Rick was eager to try out his new Newton running shoes, a purchase inspired by my wearing them. I, in turn, had been inspired by David’s suggestion a year earlier.

David went off in the first wave (read fast wave) of runners at 10:00. I was in the second wave (read slow wave) of runners at 10:30. My main goal was to keep it slow the first several miles, a tough job given the downhill nature of the course at the outset and the general excitement of the race. I succeeded – somewhat.

Fact is, I ran the first 7-8 miles at about a 10:10 pace, and I really should have run closer to 10:30. I used a big group of Korean runners as a pacer. They were running together in formation, almost like a marching band.

All went well until about mile 13 when I felt a spasm in my right calf. I immediately slowed down, even walked a little, hoping it would go away. It did. For a mile or so. Then it recurred more painfully at around mile 15, right when I saw my Team in Training coach. “What should I do about a calf cramp?” He replied, “Do the ‘runner’s shuffle.’” That worked. A little. But around mile 16 the cramps returned, this time in both calves. Oops…

I decided to take more walking breaks and hope that the cramps would ease. At mile 16, I was boosted by our great support team (wife, sister,  stepson, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, niece). Plus they’d made a great sign (“Go- D 2!”). They had converted the sign from “Go – D 3!” after David went through. Guess they figured that son David would get there sooner. Safe guess.

Around mile 17, the cramps were really bad and I was forced to walk, as even a step or two brought the camps back and me to a standstill. I decided to walk the Newton Hills and hope the cramps went away. I also began calculating what pace it would take the remaining miles to break 5 hours – my goal. I figured I couldn’t do it if I had to walk the whole way in as I needed a 12 minute pace. But…with about 3 and half miles left, I tried running slowly and…no cramps! Maybe I could still break 5 hours. I alternated between running slowly and walking rapidly.

The fans, mainly boozed up college kids, helped me keep going by yelling, “Come on, this is for Tony!” I’d start running or pick up the pace and they’d whoop it up. I’d give a thumbs up sign.

With one mile left, I figured I could break 5 hours if the cramps didn’t return. But they did. And I missed it by 40 seconds.

But that really didn’t matter. The whole Marathon experience was wonderful. I raised money for a good cause, shared a fine experience with son David – and many others vicariously who seemed to appreciate an old guy’s efforts.

Would I do it again? Absolutely! But maybe next time, David and I will head for the Big Apple and the New York City Marathon. And some day, some year, I’d like to qualify for Boston officially. With a few less pounds and a few more years (to ease qualifying times), it might, just might, be in this old bod. Hope springs eternal.

Boston Marathon Race Report

Summary: It sounds almost trite to say it, but yes, running Boston is a great experience.  I came close to going under three hours with on-plan execution through mile 23, but faded very near the end and did 3:03:57, placing #1610 of around 22,000 finishers.  Here are my official splits:

	Total	Split	Pace
5k	20:58	20:58	6:46
10k	42:04	21:06	6:48
15k	1:03:03	20:59	6:46
20k	1:24:12	21:09	6:49
Half	1:28:46	1:28:46	6:47
25k	1:45:18	21:06	6:48
30k	2:06:53	21:35	6:58
35k	2:28:50	21:57	7:05
40k	2:51:48	22:58	7:25
Finish	3:03:57	12:09	8:41

The Boston Globe has a great site with lots of photos and stories from race day.  Official race results are available here.

Pre-race: Typically in my race reports I skip background on what happened before the race, since it usually has little to do with race performance.  The Boston Marathon experience, however, is about much more than the race itself.  Here are some notable parts of the experience for me:

• Lots of training.  Lots.  Training through the winter months is very different than training in Seattle’s great summer weather.
• Supporting my father’s training and fundraising.  He won the Boston Marathon Team in Training fundraising effort by raising more money than any of the other ~150 folks on the team.
• Watching the Women’s Olympic Trials was a great addition to the weekend.
• Logistics.  With something like 25,000 people entered in the marathon, there are ENORMOUS logistics involved.  For example, we had to get on buses at 6:30am to get out to Hopkinton for the 10am start of my wave.  The picture at right shows me and my father at the then-quiet finish line at about 6am, just before we headed over to the buses.
• Studying for the Boston Marathon.  Since this race is a pretty big deal for marathons, there is lots of information about it.  26 Miles To Boston is a pretty good historical reference.  A particularly good posting with race tips is Boston Marathon, Tips to get you to the Finish Line.  Someone created an amazing spreadsheet with tons of info including a Boston-specific pace calculator.
• The pre-race atmosphere at the "Athlete’s Village" was a lot of fun.  There is a huge amount of excitement and anticipation in the air as everyone readies for the big event.  The port-a-potty lines weren’t too bad.
• As we headed to the start line, someone was handing out cheap gloves for the runners to wear.  This was great, because it was a little chilly, but by that time we had all handed in all of our non-essential clothes to the buses to take to the finish line for us.
• Unlike any race I have done, they seed people in corrals by qualifying time, so you are running near others of roughly similar expected time.  For a race this size, this is essential, as otherwise it would be a total mess for the first few miles.
• One of the best tips from the the Twenty Six Two site involves a Gatorade bottle and a garbage bag.  I’ll not detail it here–just search for "Gatorade" on that link.  My wife Lynn was shocked when I told her after the race about my premeditated criminal activity in the corral, but I was a heck of a lot more graceful than the young Navy guys standing next to me who did the same thing, but with a small-mouthed bottle and no garbage bag.

Start–>Mile 3: Chaos

Mile	Split	Avg HR
1	7:02	151
2	6:39	156
3	6:37	159

The beginning of the race was pretty chaotic.  With the countdown to the starting gun, they dropped the ropes separating the corrals, and everyone pushed forward, creating a very dense mass of runners.  I walked to the starting line with the folks around me, then we all started running as we hit the line.  It took about 1:20 between the gun and when my corral #3 hit the line.

Running was challenging at first because it was so dense.  I had to concentrate not to kick others, and I was grateful not to be kicked myself.  There was no way to select any specific pace–we all just had to go with the flow.  So, despite the fact that the race starts with a decent downhill, it was impossible to take advantage of it for a fast split.  It was fun, however, getting high fives from the kids on the left side of the road.  It was surprising to see tens of people running off the course to find a tree; I guess they didn’t know the Gatorade bottle trick.

While I am usually pretty good about being able to estimate a mile split in a race, I had no idea what to expect when I looked at my watch at the first mile marker.  I was, however, surprised to see 7:02.  I thought I was going faster, but clearly the jostling was making things seem faster than they were.  I picked it up a tad, but it was still difficult to lock in a pace with the high density of runners.  The splits for the second and third miles, still slightly downhill, were both faster than I wanted, and in retrospect probably a shade faster than I should have gone at this stage in the race.

The initial water stations were chaotic.  My plan was to drink a cup of water as often as possible, so I wanted to hit all the water stations in the early part of the race.  With the runner density, people were cutting in front of one another, arbitrarily slowing down and speeding up, and generally getting in one another’s way.  I’m sure that dealing with this cost me a little energy as well.

Mile 4–>Mile 13: Groove

Mile	Split	Avg HR
4	6:58	157
5	6:38	151
6	6:44	156
7	6:41	159
8	6:47	156
9	6:50	158
10	6:45	160
11	6:48	163
12	6:48	160
13	6:48	160

By now I was starting to get into a good groove, adjusting pace slightly with the small inclines and declines so as to maintain constant effort.  As we approached the 10k mark, things started to get a little less dense, although it was still necessary to be very aware of the runners around us.  Realizing that too much crowd interaction sapped energy, I ceased the high fives and only acknowledged the folks who most vocally cheered "go Tread!" when they saw my shirt.  I felt obliged to try to give a wave to more of them, but I was really concentrating on the race.

I knew that my mobile support team of Lynn, Cam Ferroni (above) and Lara Ferroni would be waiting for me somewhere around the 10k mark.   They had the brilliant idea of hiring a driver so that they could see me at multiple points in the race.  I started scanning the crowds for the colorful balloon they bought to stand out from the crowd.  I saw them somewhere near mile 7, giving Cam a high five and waving to Lynn and Lara, smiling and happy to see them.

The rest of this section was about holding constant effort and reasonably even pace.  I slowed a bit on the uphills and picked up a bit on the downhills.  I did a pretty good job hitting my pace goals, but I think my effort was a still touch higher than appropriate: hitting the pace goal with all the distractions, other runners, and water station randomness required putting in more effort than typical for me for the pace I was running.  The Wellesley College "scream tunnel" was among the more interesting distractions.

Somewhere around mile 10, the Endurolytes I was carrying in a candy container velcro’ed to my gel carrier fell off.  I heard it drop, but I decided to let it go, knowing that Cam and team would be able to give me more down the road.

When I saw my halfway split of 1:28:46, I figured I was right where I wanted to be.  Shortly after the halfway mark I saw Sara and Rob Spalding giving me some enthusiastic cheers.  At my prior request, Sara had a water bottle for me, but I declined it because I was feeling fully hydrated from my gulps at the once-per-mile water stations.

I thought I would see Lynn, Cam and Lara around this point as well, somewhere on the right side of the road, but then I passed the point where I expected them.  I figured that they had decided to skip this viewing point due to traffic, but then I heard Cam yelling from the left side of the road.  I crossed over, fortunate that the runner density had decreased enough to allow me to cross quickly.  Cam asked "do you need anything?" and I quickly responded "two Endurolytes!"  Cam matched my pace while pulling the bottle from his back pocket.   We ran together for maybe a hundred yards before he successfully handed off a handful of the little pills, one of which I swallowed while the others went into a pocket.

Mile 14 to Mile 21: Transitional Hills

Mile	Split	Avg HR
14	6:45	161
15	6:52	165
16	6:40	163
17	7:03	164
18	7:07	164
19	6:52	162
20	7:10	168
21	7:21	171

I felt only OK after the halfway point.  My quads were sore, probably from the downhills early in the race, and my calves also felt a little tight.  I was still nailing my pace, and I mentally prepared myself for the upcoming Newton Hills.  The first couple of smaller hills were tougher than I expected, and I backed off on pace which resulting in some slower splits.  I was starting to feel a little bloated from all the water, so I decided to skip a couple of water stations.  I did dump some water on my head at one of them, which felt good.

Around mile 16 I started looking for my other mobile cheering crew, which included my father’s wife Tina, my step-brother Ed, my aunts Martha and Nancy and my step-cousin Christine.  My first view of them was at the top of one of the hills around mile 17 when I saw Christine.  I noted she was holding some sort of sign… hey is that for me?  Following the sign, I realized that it was indeed for me and that Christine’s father Jeff was holding up the other end of it.  I didn’t know that he was coming up for this event, but there he was.  The sign was a great touch, with "D3" indicating a commonly used nickname for me in my family (my granddad is D1, my dad is D2, I’m D3 and my son is D4.  Yes, we are all geeks.).  They had engineered the sign so that they could remove the "3" and replace it with a "2" for when my father ran past later, a great idea.  They’re in the photo above with the sign.  Note also Lynn’s shirt!

Once past the smaller hills, I knew that the infamous Heartbreak Hill was up next, placed between mile 20 and mile 21.  Yeah, it was long.  Yeah, it was hard.  I was more mentally  prepared for it than the previous hills, though, so it did not feel too bad. My split for the mile that included the hill was 7:21, so I didn’t slow too much on it.  Lynn, Lara and Cam were at the top of the hill where Lynn took these photos, the one on the right just before I noticed them and the one on the left after I saw them.  Cam asked how I was feeling, and I responded "I hurt, but I am OK."

I knew that the course was net downhill after Heartbreak Hill, and I still thought I had a shot to finish under three hours.  I also realized, however, that I was nearing my limit.  When I saw 2:30 on my watch, I thought to myself "the next 30 or so minutes are going to be very painful."  I was now starting to feel thirsty and hot, which I knew was a bad sign.  I decided to hit hard every water station from here on out.

Mile 22 to Finish: Fading

Mile	Split	Avg HR
22	6:43	171
23	6:59	172
24	7:55	169
25	7:43	150
26	8:25	150
26.2	2:17	145

Taking advantage of the downhill in the 22nd mile, I laid down a 6:43, but I knew now that the limit was very close indeed.  Still determined, I did under 7min for the flat 23rd mile, but my heart rate and effort were too high.  The wheels started coming off the cart in mile 24 where I had to spend a minute in a port-a-potty, but at least the rest was nice.  Restarting after that undesired break was hard, and I was super thirsty by this point.  Either they had no water stations at this point in the race, or I just missed them in my delirium. 

At one point another runner tripped and fell about five yards in front of me, and I narrowly avoided falling on him.  Many other runners were also hurting and walking as it was hotter than the predicted low 60s.

Now all I could think about was finishing, but it hurt.  I walked a small incline, relishing the brief break.  The enthusiastic crowds chanted "Tread! Tread! Tread!" to encourage me to start running.  I appreciated their support, but all I could think about was "I know, I am trying my best, but this is really hard."  I started running again once I crested that hill, and now I could feel the early signs of hamstring cramps.  "Oh please, not that too."  I further backed off on pace.

About two hundred yards from the finish, my right hamstring locked up.  I stopped in my tracks, nearly toppling over.  The crowds saw this, and many tried to encourage me to keep going.  I started wondering whether I should crawl to the finish, but I knew that bending my right leg would result in that hamstring locking up.  Maybe I could roll?  Digging deep, I threw up my arms, the crowd cheered, and I started running again–slowly.  Passing the Lennox Hotel where Lynn, Cam and Lara were watching the finish, I waved back at their room.  Lynn snapped the photo above as I crossed the finish line, somehow managing to lift my arms over my head briefly.  It is a good thing that a marathon is not 26.4 miles, else I might not have finished.

Post Race: Hurt

Immediately after I finished the medical staff descended on me.  They knew I was in trouble, and I had a conversation with them that went roughly like this:

Staff: "How do you feel?"
Dave: "I hurt."
Staff: "Are you going to be OK?"
Dave: "I think so."
Staff: "Do you want to sit in the wheelchair?"
Dave: "No thanks."
Staff: "Can we get you anything?"
Dave: "Some new legs?"
Staff: <smirk> "OK go get some water."

With that, she patted me on my, ah, lower back, a gesture that said both "congratulations" and "please clear out of the finish area."  The photos at right, which Lynn took from the hotel room, show all of this.

With the finish only about a hundred yards from our hotel, I figured that I would soon be gulping down the recovery drink that Lynn had for me.  I quaffed a bottle of water and a cup of Gatorade as I walked through the finish area.  Next was the silver plastic blanket section, and from there we were routed to the buses to get our checked bags.  With each painful step, I was further and further from the hotel.  Standing in line to get my bag, the muscles in my rib cage started cramping.  This is no fun, since it makes breathing very difficult.  I wished I had grabbed more bottles of water.

Finally I got my bag, and now I had to find my way back to the hotel.  Seeing my distress, medical staff accosted me many times.  I seriously contemplated a stop in the medical tent, but I knew what I needed was fluid, and I thought that the hotel was close.  I asked directions of a few policemen, and they pointed me in the right direction.  Finally within sight of the hotel, a group of teen girls wanted a photo of me and each one of them–they wanted to be in a snapshot with a finisher.  People all over the place congratulated me.

An hour after finishing the race, I finally made it to the hotel gate, showed them my room key, and Lynn was waiting for me with a nice, big bottle of recovery drink.  Never before has a recovery drink tasted so good.  We got back to our room where Lynn reluctantly helped me to remove my shoes, as I could not reach my shoelaces.  I took a shower and then a bath.  Cam had suggested an ice bath to aid recovery, and Lynn took real delight in dumping three garbage cans of ice on me.  Seconds later I was shaking uncontrollably, and it was pretty clear that sitting in cold water in my dehydrated and exhausted state was not a good idea.  So I got out, dressed, and we went down to Cam and Lara’s room to watch other race finishers. 

Of course the highlight was seeing my father finish.  He had also cramped up, but he powered through it to finish in 5:00:40–pretty darn impressive if you ask me.  In the photo at right, he is in the white singlet and purple cap.  It was also fun watching the diversity of finishers: the guy who juggled for the whole race, the woman with the fake rear end over her pants, the people who were even more cramped up than I was, the Marines doing the marathon with huge backpacks, and more.  We spent the rest of the day hanging out, recovering, and sharing all of our experiences from the race.

Reflections

Knowing I had narrowly missed my time goal, my aunt Martha asked me after the race whether I was happy when I finished.  "Yes, I was very happy when I was done" was my response.  I was partly joking about being done with the hurt, but doing Boston was a really awesome experience.  I was fortunate to have absolutely terrific support from family and friends, and that added a ton to the experience.  The goal to have a really memorable life experience was more than achieved.

Some other thoughts:

• Doing a PR in a huge destination race like Boston is really challenging.  The density of runners, the logistics, the travel and more all conspire to make a breakthrough performance difficult.  If I run Boston again, it will be with absolutely no time goal.
• After two 3:03 marathons with big fades after mile 20, there’s obviously something about my training or race tactics which is insufficient for the full marathon distance.  There’s a non-linearity of difficulty in a marathon that occurs in that last 10k.
• There’s a sub-3-hour marathon out there somewhere in my future, but likely not in 2008.  I’m switching back to triathlon for now.
• It was really awesome to have all the support from friends, family and colleagues before, during and after the race.  Huge thanks go to my father, Lynn, Tina, Jon, Ed, Martha, Nancy, Christine, Jeff, Cam, Lara, Jill Fry’s Team, Sara, Rob, Joy, Mike, the race staff, the throngs of race spectators and everyone else who encouraged and assisted me in the event.

’twas the day before Boston…

…and all through the town, there was one heck of a lot of stirring!  This town is definitely alive with energy from the marathon, which is not surprising given that there are 25,000 people running the race with many additional folks in support.  I don’t think I have seen so many slender people in one place in my life.  People everywhere have Boston Marathon paraphernalia, especially the official jackets.

This morning was the US Women’s Olympic Marathon Trials, and we’re fortunate to be staying at a hotel right next to the finish line.  We slept in a little, but watched as the runners did the multi-lap course.  ESPN has a better write-up on the race than I could hope to do, so check it out if you’re interested.  To the right is Deena Kastor, the race favorite and eventual winner, striding well in the sun.  She finished in 2:29:35.

Below is Magdalena Lewy Boulet, the second-place finisher who also led the race through the 23-mile mark before being passed by Kastor.  She took an early lead and looked very strong throughout the race, passed near the finish by the heavily favored Kastor and finishing just 44 seconds behind.

 Joan Benoit Samuelson set the American record for over 50 women’s marathon with a blistering 2:49:08 time.  She started in a yellow running cap, but somewhere along the way she replaced it with a Red Sox cap, commemorating the cap she wore when she won her first Boston Marathon in 1979. In the photo at right, she is about 150 yards from the finish, looking very determined and tough.  I had heard through my father that she had a goal to go under 2:50 when 50 years old, which she clearly nailed.  She averaged a 6:27/mile pace, which is just amazing for anyone let alone someone who is 50 years old.  Way to go, Joanie!

 

 

 

After finishing the race, Deena Kastor wrapped herself in the colors and came out to took a bow from the crowd.  We were lucky to be around 30 yards away when this happened, and I snapped the shot below of a very happy-looking Olympian. At the bottom of this page is a full montage of the bow she took for the loudly cheering crowd.

As for myself, I’m obviously looking forward to my own race tomorrow.  I did a short and easy run today along the Charles River, and I felt only OK to be honest: some minor aches and pains.  Hopefully I got the junk out of my system today so I am ready for a strong performance tomorrow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boston Marathon Training Learnings and Race Goals

With the Boston Marathon just over a week away, now is a good time to assess my training and goals for the race.  I find that doing this–including writing it down–really helps to solidify the things I have learned, and of course sharing goals publicly is always good practice.  I did this before Seattle as well, and I managed to apply most or all of the things I learned from that training cycle.

What I Did

Once again, I followed Jack Daniels’ marathon Plan A very closely, with the one deviation that my formal training on the plan started closer to the actual race than last time around.  As a result, I had to skip "phase 2" entirely and part of phase 3.  Looking at my training log, I have run just over 800 miles over the 13 weeks that I have been training formally so far, an average of just over 60 miles per week.  This is less than I ran before Seattle, when I was typically over 70 miles per week.

What I Learned

Take off plenty of time after a marathon.  After Seattle, which happened at the end of November, my loose plan was to take off a little time, then start ramping up with easy base runs through the end of 2007 so that I could hit the ground running (pun intended) with formal training on January 2.  My father knows Joan Benoit Samuelson because he lives near her and they are both active with their alma mater, Bowdoin.  He introduced us over email, and she gave me what I now know is a great piece of advice: it takes one day per mile to recover from a marathon.  Since I had been running so much before the marathon, I made the rookie mistake of assuming I could take a week off, then start doing 20 or 30 easy miles weekly.  Wrong.  Attempting this, I gave myself a minor soft tissue injury issue in my calf that made running impossible until the second week of January.  I therefore set back my training cycle by several weeks.  Joanie was right, as one would expect given her vast marathon experience and success.  Rest assured that my Newtons will get a break in May and my DMTs will see a lot of use.

Winter training is hard.  I typically don’t mind running in difficult conditions, as there is something kinda cool about toughing it out when the weather is bad.  Once ramped up, the number of weekly runs I did was equivalent to what I did before Seattle.  I found it much harder, however, to toss in an extra few miles for runs when it was cold, dark and rainy.  I could still do an 8-miler easily enough, but I had trouble motivating myself to extend that easy 8-miler to 13 miles, something I often did before Seattle.  This is the main reason that my weekly mileage was less in this training cycle.

Sharing training with a family member is awesome.  My father is also doing Boston, which has been great both for fun interaction between us and for motivation.  Once or twice a week we have traded emails with training updates, bragging about workout successes, etc.  He’s following a formal training plan as well, and it has been really interesting comparing the plans and our progress against them.

Fewer races helps feeling strong.  Before Seattle, I did a number of 5k, 10k and 13.1-mile races.  As a result of this and a couple of other training errors where I ran a little too far and hard a few times, I felt worn down in the weeks leading up to the race.  This cycle, I did only one tune-up race, the Mercer Island Half, and I was much better about not going too far or too hard in my training runs.  As a result I feel much fresher right now.

Dressing for winter running requires more temperature awareness.  Early in this training cycle, I realized that I was consistently over-dressing for my training runs.  Dressing for running when it is warm is easy: just put on shorts and a light shirt.  When it is cold, comfortable dress for the start of a run is way too hot once the run really gets going.  I purchased one of those wireless weather stations which I keep in my closet, and that helped me to get much better about how much clothing to wear.  While I use the minimum shorts and pants I can get away with, I find that running gloves are great up to temperatures in the 60s.

Race Goals

My top goal at Boston is to have a great lifetime experience.  Tons of people have told me that the race is unique event, with terrific energy as they shut down the city for Patriot’s Day and mobs of people cheer on the runners.  With around 25,000 entrants, it is a much larger race than I have ever done, and I am sure that will add to the energy of it.  Several family members, my wife Lynn and my friends Cam and Lara Ferroni will all be out there.  It will be awesome supporting and cheering on my father.  We’ll get to see the US Women’s Marathon Olympic qualifier the day before our race, and Joan Benoit Samuelson will be running in it.  Maybe we’ll see Lance Armstrong, who will likely be running a little ahead of me.

Of course, I have a time goal as well: finish in under 3 hours, a 6:52/mile pace.  I think that I have the fitness to do this, based on recent training runs like an M-pace workout of 15.3 miles two weeks ago where I averaged a 6:21 pace and didn’t feel all that hurt.  There will be a number of challenges, though: an unfamiliar course, a cross-country flight two days before the race, the general randomness of really long runs, the plethora of distractions before the race, potentially hot weather (although the current forecast is fine), and the number of other competitors in the race potentially making the start slower.  One of the cool things about a marathon is the amount of unpredictability in a performance.

The Plan

I have a really simple race plan: dial in to a 6:45/mile pace with HR in mid to upper 150s and hold it there for the first 20 miles.  Then, if I am feeling good, power up Heartbreak Hill and adjust pace to whatever I think I can do for that final 10k.  Consume as much water as I can handle, and down a gel and an Endurolyte every 20-25 minutes.

Tracking

The Boston Marathon web site is going to have a tracking mechanism that will allow people to see athlete’s progress during the race.  They track and post chip times every 5k.  I will be starting in the 10am EDT (7am PDT) wave on Monday, April 21.  If you want to track my bib number of 3263 against my time and pace goals, here’s a table that may help:

Distance	Cumulative time with 6:52 pace	Cumulative time with 6:45 pace
1 mile	6:52	6:45
2 miles	13:44	13:30
3 miles	20:36	20:15
5k: 3.1 miles	21:17	20:55
4 miles	27:28	27:00
5 miles	34:20	33:45
6 miles	41:12	40:30
10k: 6.2 miles	42:34	41:51
7 miles	48:04	47:15
8 miles	54:56	54:00
9 miles	1:01:48	1:00:45
15k: 9.3 miles	1:03:52	1:02:47
10 miles	1:08:40	1:07:30
11 miles	1:15:32	1:14:15
12 miles	1:22:24	1:21:00
20k: 12.4 miles	1:25:09	1:23:42
13 miles	1:29:16	1:27:45
13.1 miles	1:29:57	1:28:25
14 miles	1:36:08	1:34:30
15 miles	1:43:00	1:41:15
25k: 15.5 miles	1:46:26	1:44:37
16 miles	1:49:52	1:48:00
17 miles	1:56:44	1:54:45
18 miles	2:03:36	2:01:30
30k: 18.6 miles	2:07:43	2:05:33
19 miles	2:10:28	2:08:15
20 miles	2:17:20	2:15:00
21 miles	2:24:12	2:21:45
35k: 21.7 miles	2:29:00	2:26:29
22 miles	2:31:04	2:28:30
23 miles	2:37:56	2:35:15
24 miles	2:44:48	2:42:00
40k: 24.8 miles	2:50:18	2:47:24
25 miles	2:51:40	2:48:45
26 miles	2:58:32	2:55:30
26.2 miles	2:59:54	2:56:51

My Father’s Boston Marathon Effort gets “Ink”

On April 21, I’m going to run the Boston Marathon.  I’m looking forward to a "lifetime experience" with the event.

One of the special things about this is that my father is also doing the race!  Not only is he doing it, he is also working to raise funds in memory of his brother and my uncle, Tony, who passed away from leukemia a couple of years ago.

His local newspaper today ran an article on his training and fundraising efforts.  Check it out here:

In his brother’s memory: Brunswick resident David Treadwell Jr. to run in Boston Marathon in memory of late brother, Tony

If you’re interested in contributing to his effort, you can easily do so by clicking here.  The site is currently incorrect about how much he has raised; it is actually over $21K so far, and he is leading his Team in Training group and obviously hopes to maintain that lead, so any help you can provide would be much appreciated!