Long Beach half race report: When the wheels fall off

I have been in sunny California for the last few days for work. While out here, I ran the Long Beach half marathon.

I will start by saying, it wasn't my best race.

I really tried to go into this in a good place. I still have post traumatic stress syndrome from my Hollywood half and what happened there: I crossed the finish line and every muscle from my ass to the tips of my toes on both sides seized in unbelievably painful cramps. It was an awful, awful way to end a race and possibly the worse pain of my life. 

I've been determined not to repeat that experience though I live in fear of it. Even at the end of many of my long runs, I feel the threat of a bad cramp so, it is something that haunts me.

I went into this race trying to safe guard from that. I did several 6 -8 mile runs in the last few weeks and two 10 mile runs.  The days leading up to the race I guzzled more water than usual and even included tons of coconut water in my routine, hoping that the electrolytes would help.

So here comes race day.

First of all, I'm always a little nervous on race morning. I like to get to the race nice and early - go to the potty, get a little stretched out, get into my corral, you know. The usual. With no rush.

Well, we left with what should've been plenty of time - but the single road to the parking area was backed for a few miles and we sat in race traffic for close to an hour.

By the time we parked and got to the starting line area, the race had already started. Even though I still had time to potty and find my wave, the fact that the race was already underway stressed me out more. I guess there was no real reason to be stressed but it's just how I roll. 

Soon and with out much ado, I was off. I wanted to maintain a 10:20 - 10:40 pace thru out the race which, for some reason, seemed reasonable to me. 

A few things to note, it was way hotter than I anticipated. I thought it was going to be chilly on the water in October. I brought sleeves and a jacket that I was gonna ditch "once I got warmed up". It was so warm that I needed neither at all and when I got out of the car and felt how warm it was - I was shocked. I thought I was going to be running in nice cool weather. I thought that I would be jumping around trying to keep warm, I envisioned crisp chill. OK. Not so much. Not at all.

This is a huge race, 22,000 racers or so and a "corral" yourself type system. There was about 4 million people in the corral I was in. When my coral took off many were walking from the get-go - 4 and 5 across from the start. Others were trying to zoom past at far faster pace than the corral - and all of it was tight. There were narrow parts of the race where I felt way overly crowded. But, even with all that, the first few miles were OK. I kept looking down at my Garmin - A few times I'd be running a 9:45 or a 10:08 or something but I'd keep trying to slow it back down to a 10:30'ish pace or so.

prettiest part of the run - Queen Mary in the background
photo credit: Angela Lee

I don't know why but early on crappy thoughts started creeping in to my head. Negativity about being trained enough, about "not feeling" like doing this today, and all kinds of shit I kept trying to bat away. For some reason I was feeling like this wasn't gonna be my day. And I guess by me continually thinking that in my head, I kind of made sure it wasn't. By mile 6 I was feeling really low. I was hot and dizzy. I walked thru every water stop and was carrying coconut water with me for hydration. I took my gels at the right time, I really tried to properly execute this race and the wheels were falling off left and right.

My head hurt, my stomach hurt, my legs were achey early on, my ankle started bothering me and if I could've quit, I might've. I just felt like shit and I couldn't understand why. I started to take more and more walking breaks by mile 7 - I was feeling kinda like a failure. The perfect shirt passed me by it said:

this made me smile. perfect timing

I did tell myself to "suck it up buttercup," I reminded myself that "pain is temporary, pride forever," I promised, "the medal will be worth it, quitting is for quitters." 

I knew I wouldn't quit. I told myself even if I had to walk the rest of the damn way, I'd finish it. I plugged on and counted down the miles running, walking, shuffling. In the final mile, my hamstrings began to quiver on the verge of those dreaded cramps - and my feet actually did cramp a few times -- it never got to the point of Hollywood Half pain though, thank goodness for that. 

I ran it in, crossed the finish line and got my medal. I was happy, probably more happy it was over than anything else, but whatever.

Post finish line was a mess of people too many people in too little of a space. I knew I needed to keep moving or possibly suffer those bad cramps. I was cranky by the poor set-up and my crappy performance.  

But still, bling has a way of making things just a wee bit better: 

And even with all the BS - it doesn't look that bad on paper. You'll see my 5K / 10K times are OK - you can really see where I fell apart:

2:30:36 tag time with an avg. of 11:30 pace. And with crappy as that race was -- I'm still happy I did it. I feel sore today. But I'm so glad I stuck with it. Perfect or not - in hindsight, I'm still proud of this race -- another opportunity to learn and I didn't quit.

I think to get better I'm going to have to truly commit to strength training. I'm going to have to maybe play better with nutrition - there is a reason for the cramping and whether it's a mineral deficiency, hydration thing or electrolyte thing - I'm doing something wrong and I have to fix that. 

Maybe 10:30 is too aggressive for me early on? Perhaps I should be aiming to keep steady at 11 min. mile early on and open it up at the end if I'm feeling good? I'm not sure. I guess I'm confused about race pace. I don't want to underestimate myself but overestimating is a recipe for an icky race too...

I think I ate too light pre-race this time around. I skipped my morning meal of oatmeal/walnuts and banana (my usual perfect pre-race fueling) for a half a banana, rice cake and a little peanut butter instead. I was trying to see if my tummy would behave with a little less bulk. But I felt a lack of energy early on and felt hungry by mile 2 --  I think I might need a heartier breakfast.

So there you have it. Half number 9 in the books (or my 10th race if you count my full marathon). 

The next one is right around the corner and I hope to have a better time!

Do you ever struggle mentally during races?

XO

Jen

That's what he said: My hubby's race recap of his first half at the Jersey Shore

Marty and Jen pre-race

The alarm went off. 4:00 AM. For most people this is a hideous time to open their eyes, but for a parent of child who could care less about time, this was the norm. The one big difference for me this morning was that I was about to run my first half marathon.  With butterflies flapping away in my stomach, I managed to get dressed in the dark in an effort to not wake up our son Ben who had wandered into our bedroom, again. The race was still a couple of hours away, but in my mind I had already won. Ben never flinched. Proof that miracles do happen. Maybe this will be my day.


The sun had not begun to shine, but we were on way to Long Branch NJ for my first battle with 13.1.  As an ex-performer I have had to endure my share of nerves before a show, but this was different.  Although I felt prepared, I just didn't know what to expect.  All of my training had taken place on a torture device known as a treadmill. The most I had ever run was 10 miles on this thing and even though I've heard if you could run 10 you can run 13.1, I still had my fair share of doubt. My mind went back to my first and only 5K, where I felt I had trained enough but hit the wall only 1/2 mile in. 13.1 was a pipe dream for me. Something athletes can only do or my amazing and inspirational wife Jennifer.  I have always hated running. From my days playing man hunt on streets of West New York, NJ at 10 years old until yesterday, running and I did not mix. I have been asthmatic all my life so I've never had any luck when it came to running. I would just pretend that I thought it was boring, but in reality I just really couldn't do it.

About a year ago Jen signed me up for that first 5k. I really wasn't in any shape to do it, but she made me feel confident that I would be able to conquer it. I'm so glad she did. Although I almost died a couple of times during that 5K, I finished it. I broke through the asthma thing and I proved to myself that I had the ability. Since then, I have lost close to 20 pounds, most of that contributed to running. I said yes to Jen's suggestion of running my first half. I trained hard and the moment came quickly.

It was 55 degrees, perfect running weather. I knew it was going to be a good day, not only cause I felt it, but our car got crapped on four times by rogue birds as I drove 80 mph on the Garden State Parkway. What are the odds? That's good luck - right? As soon as we pulled into the parking lot you could feel the electricity in the air. My nervousness turned to excitement instantly. We quickly made our way over to our corral and waited. Corral by corral, runners began their journeys. Our corral was called. The moment of truth had arrived. For a second, doubt crept in. Was I going to hit that wall early? I turned to see my beautiful smiling wife giving me the thumbs up. I knew then that this time would be different. I was trained and confident that I would tackle each and every one of those 13.1 miles. Thank you so much Jen for being you and believing in me.

We took off. The breeze felt incredible as we weaved in and out of slower runners and walkers. Why have I been training on a treadmill all this time? The music was blasting and luckily Jen kept holding me back and helping me keep a good easy pace. Before I knew it we were passing mile one, then mile two, I couldn't believe how incredible I felt. I wasn't gasping for air like in the past and my body really felt good. We got to mile three and Jen had to to stop for a potty break. I had all intentions of stopping too but she told me to keep on going and she would catch up. I had no doubt she would, so I agreed and kept on chugging along. Weird things happen when you don't really know what your pace is.** All of the sudden I turned into Jesse Owens, the short, latin, over weight version, but Jesse Owens none the less. I must have been running like the cops were after me because all of the sudden my music was interrupted by the sound of Jen's Wonder Woman ring tone. She was literally running like the devil trying to catch up to me. Oops.  **this is Jen - I wanted to kick his ass at the time. I told him to jog/keep an easy pace so I could catch up… I SPINTED for more than a mile in the 8:30 area to catch him! I was a little peeved and sucking air by the time I got him. grrrr. Thanks dear.

She caught up to me right after mile 4 and laid down the law on keeping a nice slow pace. I just couldn't help it. I felt like a gazelle for the first time in my life. I knew I had to enjoy it now because the big bad lion, aka mile 11, was coming to pounce on me. I had never run more than 10 miles and when I did that I thought the gym was finally going to get to use their portable defibrillator. At mile 5 I heard my kidneys pleading for a porta potty break. The problem was that every time I stopped there was a line 20 deep of people that clearly could care less about their times and I was damned if I was gonna let the 3 hr pacer get too far ahead of me.  I kept running and putting off the inevitable until visions of kidney stones danced in my head. We stopped at mile 7 and waited for one of those potty doors to open. I don't know what was more torturous, my exploding kidneys or losing time. Drop and go people, drop and go!! We finally got back under way. I'm feeling real good, Jen looks good and we were coasting. It was incredible to see how many people were out there supporting us. I couldn't have asked for a better atmosphere for my first half. The best thing of all was experiencing this with my wife and my best friend. Amazing.

Miles 8, 9 & 10 felt longer than the first seven. My ankles were screaming, I had chosen the side of the road for most of the race. I was literally running on a slight angle. That took its toll. Running in the middle of the road for a while really help me out. Then came mile 11. The end was so close but oh so far away. Jen started to have cramps in her hamstrings and my legs felt pretty battered up at this point. Luckily Jen found some coconut water and downed it - that seemed to help her. Now I'm starting to struggle, but we are on the Broadwalk and only 2 miles away. I still could not see the finish line but it was only a matter of time before it came into view. My inner Jesse Owens decided to take over again. I wanted that finish line to come quickly and with Pitbull singing one of his 50 songs in my ear phones, I took off running like a hurt gazelle that's trying to stay away from the jaws of a lion. All of the sudden I looked back and to my surprise Jen was not there. I didn't realize she was still going through a little cramping. I slowed down and we both headed towards glory. ***ahem. I was cramping a little bit and with the fear that I might have another seized moment like I had at the Hollywood Half, I didn't want to risk it… besides, we were still 2 miles out and I save my 'gazelle' move for the last mile… rookie. ;) 

There it was, I could see the glow of that beautiful finish line the distance. Jen suggests that I take off my ear phones and take in the moment. She was right. The crowd was pushing me towards my goal. The closer the finish line got the more emotional I was getting. I could hear our names being announced on the speakers. Crossing that finish line might go down as one of the most incredible feelings I have had or will ever have. That sense of accomplishment cannot be out done. You trained, you hurt, you ran the miles. I almost shed a tear until I came face to face with the hardware. My first medal, unbelievable. Like zombies we hobbled the streets of long branch and waited for our school bus to come and rescue us. Finally the bus arrived. The sweet taste of victory over pancakes at IHOP awaits.

victory

Overall I have to say that it was an amazing experience that I will never forget and I will continue to run. I'm truly blessed to live with a great coach and motivator. Maybe a full marathon awaits one day. For now I'm just happy to see the 13.1 bumper sticker on the back of my car that Jen gave me as a gift after the race, and now I am in on the secret… I now know that I can do anything I set out to do.


Why Yes I am the proudest wife ever. 


XO
Jen


PS: Marty forgot to mention that our time was 2:51 not bad considering two potty breaks! Pretty sure we would've come in around 2:40 - my garmin (which automatically pauses when stopped) said we did it in 2:38… not bad. My first took me 3:15! Go Marty.