Second Annual Night of the Moustache! Friday, November 20!

chop wood. carry water. run.

OK. Bedding down a little later than I'd like. This morning, looking at the start/finish area, and the people getting last easy runs in (I did not), I felt that the condition of my body and my heart didn't merit my being here. This should be more than a matter of showing up: you should feel a kinship based in shared experience and faith. 

But as the day went on, I remembered that: first, I worked really hard for almost six months in nasty conditions; and second, that tomorrow, at the start, the slate would be clean, and all that would matter would be how hard I chose to try during the 26.2 miles ahead. The failures of this summer and my lack of running in the past several weeks will be challenges to face, dragons laying in wait in my body and my mind and my heart.

I have to believe that my heart will push my body and mind to respond to the challenges. That's why we do this.  

So now, I just sleep, and in 9.5 hours, I just run. Chop wood. Carry water. Run.  

without regret

The race report from 2006...

i don't have the questions this time. there's the wishing, the wondering about different conditions, and about how things might have gone had i done this or that differently.

but this time, i know there wasn't much more i could have done, or much more i could have given, in the 26.2 miles, the four hours and forty-four minutes between crossing the start and finish mats in Chicago.

i did a lot more right this time around. eating the night before has often been an issue, because i would eat too late and/or too much. the hostel i was staying at was full of runners, and one of the things they did in support of the marathoners was a free spaghetti dinner at 5:00 the night before.

i was in a six-person room, three of the other bunks occupied by other rogue runners, who had arranged the stay and invited me along. i felt like the veteran runner, with my extensive history of one marathon to draw on. however, i've run far more races, and that, together with the fact that i wasn't in my early twenties, tended to set me apart. i tried to advise them on some of the finer points of race weekend preparation: no, 8:30 dinner reservations the night before are not ideal; no, you don't want to go out clubbing at 10:00pm on friday; no, walking around shopping the magnificent mile all day the day before the race is not a good idea; you might want to get your stuff together, know where your bib number is and attach it, and plan what you're going to take - tonight, not in the morning, etc.

they pretty much didn't listen, and went to eat and party and shop. ah, youth.

i was up at 5:30 sunday morning. ate a bagel and a half, which proved to be perfect, and for once, because of the better-timed dinner, things happened as i needed them to. you know, in the bathroom.

at about 6:45, we walked the three or four blocks to the start area. it was definitely cold - around the low 40's - and windy. somehow, though, the 30% chance of it not raining came through for us. i wished my young roommates good luck and met up with melissa, who had made the decision to run despite having suffered from a bad cold or flu for three or four days. i sent her off to find holly while i went to check my gear bag.

a few minutes later, i sorted through the crowds to the set of speakers where holly had said she was waiting with her husband, chris. the street at that point wasn't full yet, but i couldn't see them. i trotted up about fifty yards towards the starting line and into the thickening crowd, but still nothing.

i began to panic a little. i felt like my 20 mile and freescale marathon experiences had been harder because i'd been alone. part of my race plan this time from the beginning had been to stick with holly, whose time trial forecast a 4:05 time for her, five minutes faster than my own predicted time. this would have us running at a pace of 9:22 per mile.

i finally found them. we said goodbye to chris and kurt, and went out into the middle of the crowd to get some warmth as we waited for the start. they actually played good music, not the same old melange of overly obvious crowd pleasers that get played at every austin race, and the music was interspersed with information given in multiple languages.

holly was wearing a giant white plastic bag with holes for the arms and head, and we laughed as she continued to produce a variety of objects from under the bag.

the national anthem was sung by a famous local baseball announcer, the president of the sponsoring bank spoke, the wheelchair racers were sent off, then the horn blew at 8:00am, ending twenty-three weeks of training and beginning the race. 47,000 runners began to move.

melissa immediately began to pull away, and i was torn. i knew i couldn't keep up with her pace, but i had to keep dropping back to rejoin holly, who was being disciplined and starting slow.

i retraced the steps of my run the day before, under the millenium park pedestrian bridge, and into the tunnel and across Lower Wacker Drive, except this time, there were people everywhere, cheering, blowing whistles, waving signs, ringing bells. the runners talked excitedly among themselves, and we waved and whooped back at the crowds.

men ran to the sides of the tunnel to relieve themselves, as i had been told was the norm, and i thought about doing it myself. yeah. once again, as always, despite having timed my water consumption and gone twice at the hostel, i had to pee. but i didn't want to lose holly, so i decided to wait. surely she had to pee sometime, right?

coming out of the tunnel, a spontaneous wave of even louder cheering from runners started behind me, and swept up and around me, erupting from the north end of the tunnel and down michigan avenue.

i still had to drop back a number of times to rejoin holly, jogging in place, maneuvering side to side to let runners pass around me, standing up on the curbs. it was the right thing to do - again, holly was being disciplined and avoiding the common mistake of going out too fast, listening to fresh legs and adrenaline, and forgetting you had to do this for 26.2 miles.

we turned west. the first mile was a 10:46 - maybe a little too conservative, but not a cause for concern.

we turned south, and the sidewalks were still jammed with spectators. at times, it was like being in a stadium, with the sound echoing off of old buildings and masterpieces of architecture, and folding back on itself.

the second mile was a 10:06. we were picking up little by little. at this point, i was still holding back - i felt great. i was running like i have been for the last month or so, in a more upright position, and with a higher, more active, and quicker stride. the left hamstring was feeling a bit harsher than i'd hoped, but the discomfort was familiar and totally manageable.

west again, then north again, through the North Side, and the upscale Gold Coast neighborhood, and into a park area. 9:49, a fast 9:10, and then, just before the five-mile marker... i still really had to pee. we came up on porta potties, and i decided i'd be better off unloading some liquid. i avoided the mcdonald's syndrome, passing up the first bank of toilets with the longer lines, and was into one pretty quickly. during my brief wait, i saw a woman dropping trou and copping a squat behind a tree. well, more or less behind a tree. actually, the tree was fairly pointless.

mile five, then, was a 10:33. not bad. the wind here was biting cold, and i tried to maneuver do draft off of groups of people.

i passed a pair of sisters dressed as Thing One and Thing Two. people cheered for them, some by name, but some in a fashion showing their clear unfamiliarity with the dr. seuss classic - "Go... Blue Haired People!" and "Alright, aliens!" i asked Thing Two if she was annoyed that Thing One always got top billing. she said she was used to it from a lifetime as the kid sister.

9:26 - still good, but i began to realize that i was feeling more taxed at six miles than i should, considering the 20 looming ahead. i decided i would just try to keep my pace above 9:35 per mile, which still gave me a shot at coming in at around 4:10.

9:29. i was still working just a little too hard. we passed near an expressway, and a siren zoomed by, and i thought about danny escobedo, the man that died running the 10K a few weeks ago. i thought, "danny says run." i kept running.

up into Wrigleyville, west, then south. somehow, i missed Wrigley Field. i missed a lot of notable landmarks. i got a sense of the neighborhoods, and recognized some of the downtown buildings i had seen the day before on the architectural boat tour, but later, the most striking landmark i remembered was a best buy that was housed in what looked like a brownstone. this struck me as odd.

9:17, Lincoln Park, 9:34, 9:34, Old Town, past trattoria roma, the italian restaurant i ate at friday night, the place with the snotty guy who answered the phone and with whom i had the following exchange:

"yeah, hi, i'm at clark and division - are you located nearby?"

"oh yeah, real close."

"oh, great. i hate to ask this, but could you possibly give me directions to get there?"

"no, i can't."

"uhhh... ok. alrighty then. thanks a lot."

"goodbye."

the alternative answer was "go west two blocks, go north on wells. we're about five or six blocks up."

asshole.

9:39. clockwork. my form was still energetic, my turnover quick, the footstrikes still somewhat light, because i was picking back up quickly. a runner passed me on my left - long red-brown hair in a pony tail, beard, iPod strapped on the arm, and a massive tattoo on his right calf framing the Zig-Zag man. my friend, Fagan.

i yelled his name. repeatedly. Fagan likes his music loud. i cursed, sped up to catch him, slapped a hand on his shoulder. he was happy to see me, wanted to slow down and talk, but i told him to go on, that it just made me happy to see him. it was true.

south, south, south, the Near North Side, River North, and across the Chicago River for the fourth time, down into The Loop, back among the glorious skyscrapers designed by famous dead european guys, their bases framed by very alive crowds. some very slight inclines. 10:13, 10:02. i was suddenly having to push myself a bit just for those times.

i passed through the halfway point at 2:08:47, just a minute and two seconds shy of my best half-marathon time, set back in january. i was having a little more trouble than i should. i began to realize the pace had been a bit high for me, and i decided to let off a little to try to get the best effort i could through the entire race.

Greek Town. 10:20 for mile 14. i began to feel twinges in my quadricep muscles. they quickly became cramps, first in the right thigh, then the left. the hamstring ceased to be an issue altogether.

here's the thing. that higher, more active stride? great. fast. but having only done it for less than two months, and on no run longer than ten miles, i wasn't conditioned to do it for distance. i burned up more energy, and overused those muscles.

cramps ebb and flow to some extent when you run through them. i got what pace i could when they occasionally receded, and during one such period, i passed holly. i could only mimic her shirt and say "go holly." i knew she was in her own place, and i didn't think i'd be any help to her. i also knew she'd be passing me again. i had to use whatever i had while i had it.

10:22. then, in mile 16, the cramps began to burn more. i stopped to stretch, and moved awkwardly onto the sidewalk to prevent the muscles from completely contracting.

12:12, 11:16. Little Italy. smaller buildings, a mix of homes and shops and businesses, old streets, but still, crowds out in force, music. i drank it up - got high fives from little kids and adults, too, waved back at them.

a runner came up beside me and said he'd seen me consistently through the race. he asked how i was doing, and i told him i was fighting off some cramps. he told me it would be worth it to take a couple of minutes to stop and stretch, jump back in and, he said with a smile, "then you come catch us."

so there i was. 4:05, 4:10, 4:20 - those times weren't going to happen. the epiphanies i had reached about running in the past month, after the meltdowns and after quitting and walking off a race course for the first (and last) time, and my reunion with what running is all about, were being tested. i wanted to stop, but there was never really a question of that. i wanted to walk, wanted to let up.

but there's too often been questions in my head - did i really push as hard as i could? could i have held that pace a little longer? what if what i'm feeling isn't that bad, and i just don't know any better?

i still wanted to finish, and still wanted a time that would be an improvement over my freescale run. but my primary goal just became to push myself as far as i possibly could for the rest of the race, no matter what. no questions this time, no regrets.

i told myself just to get to the next mile marker, then i could walk. then i wouldn't. as each mile began to seem increasingly interminable, i picked street corners - just get there, then i can walk... ok, no, let's not stop yet. here's a street lined with people. they really seem to care - i can't stop here. maybe when the crowd thins out. no, not yet.

11:28. just past the 18 mile mark, it was like someone flushed my right out with clean, cool water. the pain disappeared completely, and receded significantly in my left leg, too.

this lasted for not even half a mile, but it was enough to get a 10:53 in the 19th mile.

the old Czech neighborhood of Pilsen. i was walking through the water and gatorade stops, but never for more than 10-20 feet.

Little Village. mexican dancers, dresses swirling, arms curving gracefully. a woman with styrofoam cups of what i later heard was either margaritas, or tequila. the crowds were local, and entirely enthusiastic. working class folks were out with boxes of food, sitting out in chairs to watch a bunch of people run through their neighborhood. a trio of little girls sat on a curb and chanted, "si, se puede, si se puede."

11:16. six miles left - a 10K. i looked at my watch, and knew there was little chance of a 4:30, and a danger of pushing past my 4:54 previous best. and, there was the danger of not finishing. it was strange - it seemed like an option, almost a reality, but one i just kept deferring.

11:44 into Chinatown. drums and bells and rich spicy smells, dragons dancing in high definition color in the momentary sunlight, undulating alongside us on the streets in rustles of crepe paper.

12:00. Bridgeport, running south alongside the Dan Ryan Expressway.

wall. stumbling at times now, trying to make the legs move through the misfiring muscles that were contracting whenever they pleased, as much as they pleased. my chest has a tried soreness, too, but that's ok. stop, squat to stretch. loosen the sock on my right foot that's crushing the tip of one of my toes. i stop a couple of times in the 23rd mile. 14:23.

Bronzeville, and we turn north again, back onto Michigan Avenue. three miles left. calculate time. i hate that Oprah is going to beat me again with her 4:29 in New York. it's just not right. but, i begin to see that i can beat my freescale time by 10 minutes.

i'm doing a stiff-legged parody of running now, with grunting occasionally involved. i stop a couple of more times to stretch. back into downtown. 12:37. Prairie District, the familiar sight of downtown.

i'm too slow. i can't afford to be this slow. please, please, just let the cramps fade one more time, just give me that. just past the 40K sign, 24.8 miles, 1.4 miles to go, they let up a little. i speed up. 14:11 in the 25th mile, but the reprieve in my legs continues. they're leaden, but not hurting, and i can control them. i try to recover the form i started with.

the crowds are still here, but i can hear the bigger crowds near the finish.

a sign says there's 800 meters left. i turn right on roosevelt, towards the Field Museum and Shedd Aquarium. i don't see them, though, just like i have somehow missed Soldier Field to my right.

at the moment, i am more stunned by what i see. there was no elevation map for the course, because there is no real change in elevation - it's all flat, which is why it's such a fast course. but there before me, with about 600 meters left to go in the race, is the one real hill on the whole damned course.

fuck this, i think. i'm from austin. these people don't know shit about hills. i take the hill with no change in pace. the quads remain silent.

turn left into the most beautiful 200 yards i've ever seen - straight, lined with bleachers and cheering crowds, the green banner over the finish clear, the yellow numbers of the race clock clicking away. i pick up, i'm taller again, shoulders back, hips under me, and i know my legs aren't going to let me down for this.

i turn in a great 200 meter sprint. at 100, i throw it all out, and i'm blowing past people and i hear the crowd respond, and the pain is excruciating, but it's worth it, and it's almost over, and then it is.

water, volunteers congratulating, shiny space blankets, scores of runners shawled in those shiny space blankets ahead of me, rustling like one giant silver version of the dragons in chinatown.

i'm a little delirious, i can't grasp that it's over. it had seemed like it wouldn't end. i cry. i'm freezing. i get my medal - they take the time to hang it around my neck. i cry, but no one can see it between the hat and the blanket. god, it hurt so much for so long. i love the weight of the medal around my neck. i hate my time, but i beat it, i beat pain and doubt. that is who i am today, who we all are today, and i feel the burn of it in my legs and the deadness of it in my lungs and the weight of it hanging around my neck, and i love it. i cry, and i clutch it to my chest, and there is nothing else.

tapering (five days to go)

so many nights, stuff gets so deep that all i've wanted to do was go out to Congress Avenue, find the old "S" spray painted into the asphalt, toe it, close my eyes, hear the horn, and start running.

i find in the race the same thing i find in a game of basketball. the universe is partitioned for that bit of time, that bit of space, and the task is simple. play basketball. run.

sometimes, i need my life to be no more complicated than to be at the starting line, waiting to run, and running. left, right, left, right, for hours and hours, driving relentlessly to the finish line. sometimes, my muscles and bones and lung scream for wanting the finish, but my heart does not. my heart hates the finish, because i know that purpose will be lost, and i will be just a person standing there, tired and sweaty, the same person that toed the line almost five hours earlier.

it isn't fair that life is not that simple.

anyway. i wrote this in 2006, when i was in a very different place. then, as now, it was five days until the Chicago Marathon.


emails are flying between my friends and me. no work is getting done. emotions are high. we want to be in chicago right damned now, regardless of the weather (though we update each other on the forecast twice a day). we want to be running it now.

marathoners call it "taper madness" - the wackiness that ensues during the two or three week period before a marathon when we back off the mileage and let our bodies repair and become ready. i ask melissa, a psychologist, and a friend going to run chicago with me, if there's a biochemical basis for the weird psychosis. hours pass, i get more emails reminiscing about our favorite coaches, about weather, and finally, "sure. but you are asking me to think in order to formulate an intelligent answer to that. and, i just can't do that right now."

so, i'm left to my own devices. i eat a banana, and stare at the whopping third document i've reviewed today. a normal pace would have me at 60 or so. why are we all losing our minds?

simply put, running is a natural ability, but training for and running a marathon is not a natural thing to do.

we train for 23 weeks. close to a thousand miles run - 30, 40, 50, 60 miles a week. we run four or five days a week. an hour monday, an hour tuesday, a hard workout for an hour and a half on wednesday, cross training or a half hour run on thursday, over an hour on friday, long runs for hours on saturdays.

those hours are squeezed into mornings before work, appended to the end of workdays when you feel like you only have the energy to open a beer and keep the couch from floating away.

people that choose and stick with this path are not likely to say, "I can't," and the training reinforces that. on the other hand, we say it more now than ever - "I can't, gotta run." "I can't, I have a race."

we push ourselves six days a week, for 23 weeks. exertion and fatigue become constants, as does the simple act of consistently, persistently, committing ourselves to creating discomfort in our bodies and pressing on anyway.

"The will to win means nothing if you haven't the will to prepare." - Juma Ikangaa, 1989 NYC Marathon winner

it's a compulsion, and if it didn't start as one, it became one along the way. every run says something about us, who we are and what we can do - not about our speed but about our will. sometimes, we're disappointed by how slow we were on a run or in a race, because we're competitive and because sometimes we lose sight of the fact that the time doesn't matter so much as how hard we pushed ourselves to get it.

one day, during a particularly hard workout on the Austin High School track, a kid leaned out a passing car's window, yelling some line i recognized from a movie about the day of judgment being on us, and asking, "how will ye be judged?"

the immediate response yelled back as i turned down onto the stratghtaway - "by what i do here today."

we watch the chicago marathon highlight video, and the sight of the runners and the cheering crowds shakes us. to some extent, it's adrenaline - fight or flight response positively subverted, adrenaline charges as we recognize the scenario. but we can't do anything with it right now, sitting at our desks, or at home.

we want the race, the pre-run jitters, we want to be surrounded by 40,000 other people who have made the same journey thus far, the same hegira from doubt and unchallenged limitations.

we don't know each other, we might not even like each other if we did, but almost everyone out there "gets it," and we are finishing a journey together, whether it takes us 2:10 or 6:10 to do it.

the hundreds of thousands of spectators lining the course watch people go by, see the determination and pain, and to some extent, they "get it." some of them will be motivated, as i was two years ago, to make that same commitment, to see what they can make themselves do.

i think again of our head coach, steve sisson, saying that whether it's the first time you cross the finish line, or the 50th, you are not the same person that started it.

the clock, the calendar, are running too slow. my friends and i want and need sunday to get here, so we can do what we have worked so hard to do, as best as we can on that given day. we want to run, so we can cross the finish line and see who we will have become.

Spirit of the Marathon Tuesday Night, Chicago Sunday...

So, this is an older trailer for the movie, with the original title, "Land of the Gods". There are more recent, higher-quality trailers out there, but I like the music in this one the best...

Safety Stuff

So, the incidence of runners being attacked or harassed or simply creeped-out is sort of frighteningly high. I don't like being alarmist, but we have to be conscious that stuff happens out there, whether you're running in upscale Tarrytown, in Clarksville at the tail end of a group workout, where a couple of men followed and harassed one of our runners last year, or across the street from Whole Foods with a bunch of bystanders.

There's also the issue of running at night, which is probably not so much an issue now as it will be in October. At that point, we'll move our workouts up to 5:45 or 6:00pm, to try to get us a little more daylight, what with the apparent shortening of the days by means of some black magic that liberals and conservatives can blame each other for, the falling-back clock action, and the gradual, evil lengthening of workouts.

So, let's be smart about things, by means of my beloved bullet points:

• Turn on your heartlight - OK, so quite simply, get you some light, so you can see and be seen. Bettysport, RunTex, Academy, REI, all have varieties of lightweight blinky lights. The blinky LED's that go on the shoes are incredibly disconcerting to watch, but that noticeability is exactly what you want, and they even end up casting a little light in your path. REI even has some super-bright halogen headlamps that you can wear on your head, or maybe clip to your arm or waistband.
  
  I also run with these little guys. They're heavy duty, super-crazy bright, and made for law enforcement. They're bright enough that you can actually use them to momentarily stun someone. Seriously. Ask Paul - I have demonstrated it on them. They're easy to carry in your hand when running, have a button to momentarily activate them, or you can leave them on. The LED version is a little pricey, but gives you really long battery life. The regular version is $35. I've even strapped it to a beam with a hair scrunchy and used it as a spot for a friend's show. They're available at Whole Earth, Cabela's, and online.
  
  
• Black is the new way to get your butt run over - Yes, you look cool, Mason, and you get to play Ninja Runner Person, Mason. But you'll never get to use your nunchuks, Mason, if you get smacked by the car that you were stealthily invisible to. Mason. Oh, it was just the once, and you figured out it was a bad idea. Anyway, wear light colors, with reflective stuff. Reflective vests are cheap, if you'll take alive and stupid-looking over dead and cool.



• Be actively visible - Run on the left, unless circumstances make this clearly the worst option. When you have cars coming at you, make eye contact, even wave at them. Make sure they see you.



• Take a buddy, or at least someone you can almost stand - Don't run alone. Simple enough. You're more visible, you have a spotter, you're less likely to get messed with, and if you see the other person fall into a gaping hole, you can then avoid the hole and continue your run.



• Step light - When you're running through a dark patch, don't assume that it's not the only patch of sidewalk in five miles that isn't clear. Confused by the double negative? Me, too. Point is, find the most lit path through the darkness, slow a little, pick up your feet, and step lightly, as if you're running across a rocky stream. If there is something wonky underfoot, you'll have a better chance of recovering from it.



• Pick your route carefully - There are lots of considerations here. Stay out of deserted and/or dark areas, and clear of pothole infestations. Vehicle traffic can provide you a bit of light and security, but you need to steer clear of narrow roads, blind hills and corners, or high speed limits. Portions of the trail are OK, but it gets awfully dark. If you're close to the trail, you might be better off running downtown, or on South Congress.



• Run tough, act tough, be tough - One year, one of our runners was accosted by someone who thought she looked good in shorts, but then wanted to see if she, um, felt good, too. She tried to edge away and be polite. That's understandable, but if it's not going to work with a frat boy in a bar, why would it work with a possibly loony predator? If a comment gets made that's over the line, ignore it. Don't give them anything. If they persist or approach you, say, look them in the eye and say "Hey. Back off. I'm running." Ignore him when he calls you whatever he calls you, as long as he walks off. Keep anything you say short, but be assertive and make the point that you're not going to be messed with. In the situation our runner was in, she could cross the other street, approach some other people, or even go up to one of the cars in the intersection, and start communicating with them - make sure he sees that people see you and him, and he'll probably move off. If you get in serious trouble, yell, and flag down a car.

Above all, use yer head. It's your best weapon, your best shield. Be alert. I'd strongly consider ditching the iPod for night runs, but if you choose to run with tunes, day or night, you have to take extra steps to be alert, period.

But whatever, whenever, just be alert, be thinking, be aware of your surroundings. Think about strategery - what's open? Where are there people? What house on this block has lights on that you could get to if you needed help? Being alert and aware are good skills to have anyway, and if that's something you learn from running, then that alone is valuable.

OK. There you go. Please, take this stuff seriously. I'm the only person who should be trying to annoy or hurt you.

Rain or Shine, People!

"There's no such thing as bad weather. Just soft people."
- Bill Bowerman, legendary coach guy

We've seen some strange phenomenon occurring this week, in which something appearing to be water is falling from the sky in small drop-like packets. Whatever this stuff is, it makes things, including runners, wet.

However, I actually think that with this years group, I'm not going to hear any whiny little voices asking "But what if it's raaaaaiiiiniiiiing?" If I do, the answer is easy - we run in it. Aside from lightning, there's no reason not to run in the rain, and every reason to do it.

Races are run rain or shine - they, like us, will only cancel for lightning or major meteor strike at the start/finish area. What good would it do you to train in ideal conditions, just to show up and have to run in the rain? Very little. And if you think you're not all hardcore about running a race - when you slap down your money for a race, you'd be pretty lame to turn tail and go home because it's raining.

It's an exercise in commitment - If you're going to let moisture stop you from training and putting in the work, then what else are you going to let stop you? Not having clean socks? Everyone Loves Raymond reruns? Do you want to be someone who gives in that easily? Do you want to be someone that loves Raymond? No, you don't.

It's freakin' epic - Pounding the pavement or the track or the trail in a downpour, you feel like you're in the middle of a Rocky training montage, or in the climactic scene of a movie. Leave the iPod at home, because you can pretty much hear the orchestra churning along with you. People drive by, and those that don't "get it" may think you're an idiot, but the many who do "get it" will think you're a bad-ass, and maybe they'll think about their own level of commitment.

All this is not to say you shouldn't be prepared. Bring dry clothes and shoes to change into afterwards. Wet shoes and socks make for wet skin, which increase the chances of blistering - use some Bodyglide or Vaseline on your arches and anywhere else you tend to rub in your shoes.

And remember - whining is only allowed insofar as it's funny.

The Inevitable Commitment Lecture

So, in the course of making some changes to the schedule, I was trying to maneuver long runs around the holidays, and decided it's time for Tedious But Important Lecture #1.

One of the biggest problems runners face is when the running becomes this onerous obligation. Believe me, I know that feeling, and I'll be honest, I've felt that a lot this summer. The quote in the Austin Fit article about all runners needing breaks? That's what I'm talking about, and in typical hypocrytical coach fashion, I have not taken many breaks in the past few years, largely because I have a hard time watching and not doing, but also because I feel an obligation to do what I'm requiring you all to do.

But with a few exceptions (those of you who just want to keep running, but don't feel that you're compelled to prove just a whole lot) you've all taken on this task of training with a goal of accomplishing a half marathon or marathon. That decision is made, you're in it now. What comes with that is not just a schedule, though. It is commitment. I know you all know that, at some level, but I think it's important to really realize and appreciate the scale of the commitment you need to make.

The half marathon and marathon, 13.1 and 26.2 miles, don't care what happens in your life. They don't care that you're out of town for work or Thanksgiving. They don't care about injuries or very important things that come up that we all have to deal with. They definitely don't care about laziness and hangovers, and neither do I. There's no universal rule of fairness here, that will cut you some slack if you miss workouts for whatever reason.

Now, all that is not to make this task sound onerous. I absolutely do not want running to take over your life. I want us to be well-balanced. So, we'll make choices along the way, and therein lies what is most important and most valuable about the training and running - we've chosen to put ourselves in positions to make choices that are capable of saying a lot about who we are, and who we choose to be.

You've chosen to train. That's a win. That says something about you. Unlike other groups, we don't have stay-at-home moms running because they have nothing better to do. We are all teachers, lawyers, people in the service industry - we all work hard. So, every time you choose to make it to a workout after a really hard day, that's a win. When you are tired, and want to quit and run less, but don't, that's a win. When I say to run five or six repeats, and you choose six, that's a win. When you're away for Thanksgiving and you have to run 10 miles on Saturday, that's a win. When you choose not to have that extra one or five drinks on Friday night, or when you think ahead to arrange your schedule and vacations so that you can get your runs in, those are wins.

Ultimately, those wins are what matter, no matter how fast or slow you are. Running a half marathon or marathon is an impressive stunt. Training for six months is an accomplishment. Make those choices along the way, and your races are going to be easier on you. You'll be faced with more choices in those races - whether to let up or stop, and your ability to make the tough choices then will be built on the choices you make every day in training. And, I believe that in the course of making these choices, we have the very real opportunity to decide who we are going to be, not just as runners, but as individuals.

Again, this is not rah-rah, "110 PERCENT!!!!" B.S. Just appreciate what you've taken on - the seriousness of it, and the potential of it. Deceide what you do and don't want out of it, and then do not sell yourself short on whatever you decide those goals are. Make the hard choices, and this will all be far more rewarding than you could possibly realize.

OK. Enough of that. The practical implications are this...

1. If you have to miss a long run, let's plan for it. Some people have had fun hooking up with running groups when they're in another city, meeting people, seeing a new place, and making a fun experience that we're often jealous of back home.

2. You'll need to run even during the holidays. I'm trying to finagle the schedule so that you're be on "down weeks", with slighthly less mileage. But I'll be here, and the runs will go on as scheduled.

3. Marathoners - you're going to have a choice between running 24 the day before 3M, and skipping 3M, or adding mileage before and after 3M to get at least 22 miles. If there's a lot of grief about that, we can talk about it, but I want you to be as prepared as possible for your goal race. 3M is fun and fast, but it's a scheduling problem for all Austin running groups. I think Amy is really happy with choosing to skip it this year. If you want to run it, that's fine, but adding mileage to it will get you your longest run, and it'll keep you from blowing your legs out three weeks ahead of the marathon.

OK. If there's any questions or concerns, or if I've not come across right and ended up scaring you, let me know.

See you Saturday!

Rob

Training Starts In Two Weeks!

OK, actually, in a little over two weeks... let's not exaggerate. I'm just trying to build some excitement, here.

Our first workout is on Tuesday, September 1, at 6:30pm, at Whole Foods. Don't worry, you'll get plenty of reminders.

What we've landed on, cost-wise, is $175 for new folks, $150 for returning vets. If that's a problem, or you need a payment plan, let me know. You can pay by cash or check, or by Paypal - www.paypal.com, and use this email address (robhill45@gmail.com to find my account.

But this is not a matter of sitting around for the next two weeks waiting for training to happen. You need to be preparing. Let's talk about that.

Getting up to speed - whatever speed that is...

Half marathoners, you need to show up able to run at least three to four miles comfortably. Marathoners, five to six miles.

Now, I know many of you have been slacking, with the, "Wah, it's 105 degrees," or "Wah, my shoes melted," or "Wah, I have cable/friends to drink with, and I haven't been bothered with running since February." Well, it's time to suck it up, people!

If you're pretty darned near zero right now, there's no time to lose, but you can most likely be where you need to be in two weeks (unless you've just reeeeeeally let it all go). There's a couple of good ways to get yourself up to speed:

1. Go out, warm up with a jog or brisk walk for about 5-10 minutes. Then, use your watch, and go two minutes "hard", then three minutes "easy". Repeat this for a total of 20 minutes. Now "hard" and "easy" are going to vary. You might be walking the easy part, and jogging the hard part, or you might be running the easy part at a comfortable, conversational pace, and getting a little out of your comfort zone for the hard part. Afterwards, do an easy cool-down for 5-10 minutes.

The following week, make it three minutes hard, two minutes easy.

2. If you run around the lake or at Camp Mabry, try going easy for three quarters of a mile, then harder for a quarter. Then, easy for a half, harder for a half, then easy for a quarter, harder for a quarter. Then get a cooldown. For a lot of us, we go out and try to literally hit the ground running, and we're tanked after several minutes. This is a good way to ease into it.

Either way you use, you'll find that you're pretty quickly able to string together more running and less walking. Do these workouts only once, or maybe twice a week, say, Tuesday and Thursday. Get some light running/walking in on other days, but if you're starting from near-scratch, don't go more than 3-4 times a week. Try to do a slightly longer run on Saturday morning.

If doing these seem really hard, or you're not able to run at all right now, let me know, and let's figure out what we need to do.

Getting the medical go-ahead

Have no doubt, what you're taking on here is a serious thing. You're going to be placing a lot of demands on your body. Some of you will learn exciting new levels of soreness and aches. you have to pay more attention to staying healthy, because your immune system can get worn down. And some of us are not as young as others.

Training for a marathon or half marathon is sort of like owning a motorcycle - in the course of training, friends and relatives are going to hound you with stories about people dying, losing interest in their other friends, or soiling themselves. Right now, let's just talk about the first issue.

The incidence of marathon death is very low - around one in 100,000, if I remember correctly. Marathon mortality kind of breaks up into two groups - deaths for those under 30-35 tend to be due to congenital heart defects, known or unknown, and for those of us with more birthday party experience, the issue tends to be more typical cardiac events.

For anyone about to embark on training like this, getting a check-out from a doctor is a good idea. Runners, particularly male runners, 35 and over should really go have a proper stress test and all of that. Better to have a gripper on a treadmill in the Heart Hospital with hot nurses around than out on Great Northern with me giving you mouth-to-mouth. Neither of us wants that.

Getting equipped

Yeah, everyone says running's great because all you need is a pair of shoes to do it. Doesn't mean you can't still find ways to spend stupid amounts of money on things, but that's still essentially true. But shoes are worth spending the money on.

Other runners in the group can tell you what a dramatic difference shoes can make. When people come to me with pains and injuries, I usually look at shoes first, and it's amazing how often that's the fix.

I plan to set up a little seminar at Hill Country Running Company about shoes, but let's get a few things out there.

You can't just go buy a "good" or expensive running shoe. It has to be right for you. A $165 pair of Gel Kinsei's would be dumb for many people, and an $85 pair of shoes might be perfect for them. Different people have very specific distinctions in their gait, foot strike, foot shape, and cushioning needs. To get the right shoe, you have to go, in person, with time to spend, to a place where someone is going to look at you walking and running barefoot, and then watch you run in the shoes they knowledgeably suggest.

I strongly suggest Hill Country Running Company, Bettysport for women, Rogue Equipment, or RunTex. We get a discount at all these stores - I'll be getting discount cards soon. Wherever you go, talk to the person first and see if you get an involved, knowedgable vibe. If you don't, leave.

Brand loyalty and cuteness are secondary considerations. You may have to ditch them completely when you're looking for running shoes. I always loved basketball shoes, and Nikes and Jordans were the best there were, but when it comes to running shoes... not so much. I have to be reminded that Reebok still exists.

Even if you have the most perfect-for-you running shoes ever, that you slapped a lot of cash down for back in 2003... yeah. You need some new ones. Even the right shoes will break in during the first 50 miles, giving you more (!) cushioning and a better feel than the day you bought them. But once you get in the 200-300 range, they start to break down, giving you less support and cushioning, which can lead to aches and pains and even injury.

As for shorts and jogbras and stuff... uh... yes. You need those. If you're new to the whole jogbra thing, go to Bettysport. Paul in our group also tends to have opinions and even some experience in this area, but I'd avoid talking to him about it, if at all possible.

You're gonna need a running watch, although a couple of our vet runners pride themselves on not being held to the restrictions of the time-space continuum. I'd recommend going to Academy - Nike watches are getting cleared out, and you can get great deals on them. Just get one that's comfy, has a light, and will do lap and split timing.

Academy is a great place to go for running clothes, and occasionally, IF you already know that a particular shoe model works for you, you can get shoes there, too.

OK, that's enough for now. I'm planning on having a little get-together, maybe with a short run beforehand, on Tuesday, August 25, at 6:30. We'll most likely run down to Hill Country Running Company, get some info on shoes and other stuff, then run back and have a bite to eat and some stuff to drink.

Cool? Good. Now get your butt out there and run.

Looking for us?

Hi - If you've come here looking for Team Spiridon, don't be dismayed by the lack of any signs of life. This site gives us a landing point, and I do post some information on it, but I mostly bombard our runners with a couple of lengthy emails a week during training.

This summer, a handful of us are training for the Chicago Marathon, and spending the balance of our time wondering what we were thinking, and just how hot it's possible for it to get here.

If you want some more information on Team Spiridon, stay tuned, or email me.

We look forward to hearing from you - stay hydrated!

Rob

Important Chicago Marathon Rule

"This means, for example, that urinating or defecating anywhere on or near the course shall be strictly prohibited except in toilet facilities."

Spiridon Flying Circus Expedition X

OK, you bunch of clowns and carnies - there is now a button on the left there for the Chicago Expedition. I'm working on the entire schedule, but I can tell you that being slightly more experienced runners, I'm getting you started a little quicker with the "short" mileage, then giving you a little more space in the middle, where you'll build some strength and speed, and then giving you plenty of recovery space for the last three long runs, which will take you to 23 or 24 miles rather than the usual 22.

This first phase of training is just going to build your aerobic base, so on your solo and long runs, just focus on getting the miles and time in, and don't worry about speed. Laura and Amber - you're coming off of post marathon and half-marathon lay-offs. Alex, you've been running like a fiend and could use some rest. Debbie's coming back from an injury. The heat and humidity are also going to take some getting used to. So, go easy and be OK with whatever time you turn in. There'll be another phase where we work on speed.

You're still getting plenty of hills, though given the flatness of the Chicago course, I might minimize it a bit, but will probably at least end each run with a short uphill, just like the stupid one at 800 meters from the finish.

Most importantly, get out there and do your damned runs. You've all spent $125 on registration, $226 on flights, you'll be spending money for the hostel and post-race booze and pizza. This is not something you can half-ass. You're buying into an opportunity to have a good time, but to run a great race that you'll always remember. But every day for the next six months, you have to make the right choices, or it's all for nothing. Got it? Good.

Texas Round-Up Race Plan

Hey, everyone that's running the Round-Up tomorrow,

Sorry not to get this out sooner. On the other hand, you all know the drill by now - you went to the Round-Up website and looked at the course and elevation map - http://www.texasroundup.org/10K_5K_Race/Race_Route.aspx

You may have even driven the course...

I'm actually working the race - you may see me around the start, and after, I'll be at the Awards stage. I might be able to hit breakfast with you guys at some point, we'll just have to see how things are going. I need to earn the sweet Nike schwag I got.

So, if you guys want to meet up before the race, I'd recommend doing it on the small stairs just across MLK from where Congress ends.

The race starts at 8, so you work backwards - I think you're using the D-chips (disposable), so that's not something you have to plan for. There'll be 4,000-5,000, I believe, so some of you will want to be fairly close to the front. You should all figure on getting to the start by 7:40. You'll want that last bit of bathroom time - this is a Conley Sports run race, so you know there'll be enough porta potties (though someone's always gonna complain), but there'll still be lines. So, plan on being in line by 7:25.

It would be good to get in about a 10-minute warmup, followed by some light drills, just to get loose. I suggest running your warmup in campus, on Speedway - it's nice and flat, and shouldn't have traffic. You can probably just run down to Dean Keeton and back - that's about a mile. The warm-up should be easy and chatty, just to get the blood flowing, but every now and then, do a "pick up", where you increase the speed just a little, just for 20-30 seconds.

For drills, do side-to-side, over and under, high knees, butt kicks (gently - just get loose), and a little backwards - carefully.

OK, so the course. It's going to be tight, I think. I think we have four lanes of roadway going from the start at 18th and Congress up to 15th, but still - it's a lot of people. I am not certain how the 5K and 10K will be split (I missed that meeting, sorry), but pay attention to that when you go to the start.

So, don't get pushed outside or pinched inside on the first couple of turns. Don't run over the curbs - it's asking for a turned ankle in a pack like that.

Use the first mile to get into a rhythm. Some of you that ran 10K's recently should know what your pace feels like. Try to get close to that, but don't push too much - you have hills ahead.

Right turn on 15th - a tiny hill

Right turn on Lavaca - just a very, very slight uphill grade, nothing to worry about.

Left on MLK, into a short downhill

Right on Guadalupe - a very slight upward grade. Mile one is probably somewhere in front of the tower.

Right on Dean Keeton - for those of you that ran the marathon this year or the Human Race last year, here's your payback - you're running down Dean Keeton. Here, as before, keep your form. You're going to pick up speed, regardless, but don't let it push your heart rate up much at all, and don't let it increase the impact or load on your quads too much. Form, form, form. You have to remember that you're running down into a small valley, and you've got to come up the other side. Use this time to relax and prepare - you're still going to pick up time.

When you get to San Jacinto, you start going up. Mandy and Kristin may be on this corner doing their Cover Girl thing. Wave hi, point at your Spiridon shirt, and get a shout-out.

Here, many people are going to have blown it out down the hill, and here's where you'll pass them as you go slow and steady. It's long to get to the top, then you have another shorter down-and-up, so you've got to keep your heart rate under control, and your legs from getting into lactate threshhold problems - you need to stay loose and just chug up it. You will lose time going up this, most likely, but that's fine. The course will give and take.

Mile 2 is somewhere along this hill.

When you pass the law school (big white boring building) on your right, it levels off slightly for a bit, and with just one more incline ahead. Also, when you pass the law school, think of me and give it the bird.

At Red River, you crest the hill, and go under I-35 - it's steep, so be careful. And, you have to come up the other side, but it's a short one - nothing like Crazy 8's or Rainbow.

Right turn on Lafayette, before you get to Hoover's. This is the other location Mandy and Kristin might be at.

When you cross Manor, the street you're on becomes Chicon. We've done much of this run. From here, you have a long downhill. Take this with a huge grain of salt, but I feel like this is a good decision point. If you've had an easy time of it, this is a good place to increase your pace. But be mindful of the fact that the downhill doesn't last long, and you'll have 50-foot elevation change rollers for a couple of miles after that. You can't increase too much.

You can think about your breathing:

1. Let's say you you exhale as your left foot strikes
2. Right strikes
3. Left strikes (if you're exhaling again, you're at about 5K or better pace, and you're screwed)
4. Right strikes - maybe you exhale here, and you're probably OK, depending on how good your conditioning is, but it's probably just a little fast
5. Left foot strikes - this is probably the safer timing

Now, I don't mean for you to try to time your breathing with your footstrikes, but if you don't have a real good sense of your pace, it'll help. Remember, the relationship of pace to breathing is not coincidental or arbitrary - you breathe harder because of what your cells require to burn fuel to do what you're asking of your body. Ask too much, and it can only do so much before fatigue sets in or you hit your lactate threshhold.

Mile 3 is about halfway down, probably around E. 14th/16th

Anyway.

You get a bit of uphill right before 11th, but I don't think it's too bad.

Right on 11th - flat, as I recall. Mile 4 is around Concho.

Left on Comal - downhill

Right on 7th - short uphill

Right on Navasota - very slight, probably imperceptible uphill grade

Left on 11th - again, you've been here before. Nice easy downhill, and somewhere around San Marcos or Curve Street is mile 5 - one mile to go. Time to pick up the pace. Maybe start exhaling on that 3 instead of 4, and see how that feels. Remember, it's just a mile, but it's still a mile.

Around Nueces, you have one of the last tests - a short uphill to San Jac, but you know the downhill on the other side, with just a very short, insignificant uphill after that. It doesn't matter now, because you should be really going.

Right on Colorado.

A little 13th-Lavaca-14th bump to the left, to the left. All this is very slightly uphill, but not enough to keep you from maintaining or increasing your pace. If you're not hurting a little when you hit 14th, you need to go. This is far easier than most of your workouts. Work.

Right on 15th, real briefly.

Left on Congress, and it's three blocks of slight downhill. Stay relaxed, but pick up your footspeed and go, go, go.

I truly believe this can be a fast course, if you run it right. Come look for me afterwards and tell me how it went, and good luck...

Filler.

OK, I'm catching up with work BS and other stuff, as well as trying to regain my taste for beer and finding spare moments to lay very still and moan quietly to myself. I'll get a race report written tonight - in the meantime, send me yours, and I'll put those up, too.

So, because I was asked to do so, let's start on a low note (specifically, E):

showtime

in keeping with the marathon's green theme, this, from february 2005, gets recycled.



no iPod necessary tonight. i'm at the bar at halcyon, lovely cold amber bubbling in a glass before me.

tom petty's playing - an american girl. earlier, journey, separate ways.

the songs of my youth. my youth - what a weird phrase to use. few memories exist where the radio isn't playing. i remember life marked out in time with music, with rock and roll, on KLBJ, on Z-102, on cassette tapes and eventually cd's.

i'm riding high. i feel myself rushing towards the surface from the depths, like one of the bubbles in my beer, driving smoothly upwards towards the heavens.

i went to take this picture after work, a mission that has bugged me for days. my coworker felipe went with me, walked part of the way, stayed behind to make a phone call. i ran across and along the access road, free on our first clear and crisp day in weeks, running past the people and the cars mired in rush hour traffic. i ran instinctively to a point on the grassier verge, turned, brought the camera up to my eye, and there through the viewfinder was the sun, low in the sky now, backlighting a glowing brushstroke of a cloud, and there, the sign, yellow, saying simply, "showtime."

on tuesday, i was awash in emotions. maybe illness or fatigue, but a few times that day, i was overwhelmed, and i felt the warmth build up behind my eyes, before i'd push it all back. but one moment that day hit me more squarely, more firmly, as i drove up to the Runtex Store for Psychotic Running People, and saw the sign.

i had run my first half-marathon a couple of weeks ago. and as important as it was, as an accomplishment, and a catharsis, it still seemed like a part of the preparation for the freescale half-marathon.

so, i didn't understand why, as i saw the sign, but even now, thinking of it, i feel again the same warmth, the same tightening in the throat. and this time, the words on the page blur in my vision, and the ink itself begins to blur in drops on the page.

there is so much in a life, so much to feel and know and remember, but nevertheless, there are those moments and events that we single out, that resonate more deeply for us, that we know will linger.

so much of life is preparing, so often for dreams, worthwhile or misguided, that may or may not come true.

this thing, preparing for this run, is a small thing for some runners, a small thing in this life, certainly a small thing in this world, but still... so many miles. so much effort, so much wanting and needing. so much love and encouragement from so many people, lifelong friends, new friends, old loves, even strangers, even from a friend now gone. so much wanting to help, to be a part of something, so much help from people for that friend's daughter, for a little girl they may never meet.

i hear all the footsteps run, all the pavement and trail underfoot, i hear all those voices, i hear my own, cursing myself, praising myself, i feel everything of the last four months, i feel the echoes of preparations and hopes of a life already long but not done, all saying steadily, confidently, now, "showtime."

taper madness in the workplace...

Before my first marathon in 2006, until, not coincidentally, a few days after my first marathon, I used to have a "real" lawyer job, a permanent one with benefits and suits and ties and all. Well, not really, because I worked for the state (sorry, Jenn). I was an attorney for the Board of Dental Examiners - we licensed and regulated dentists, dental hygienists, dental assistants, and propane accessories, or something to that effect. My office was on the 8th floor of the Hobby Building, across from Gingerman (which is why I still have sweet parking), and it looked out at Auditorium Shores. There, that week, I first experienced the full sweep of taper madness...


good afternoon, this is rob.

yes. yes, ma'am. i see. well, tell me what happ... oh, snap, i can see the finish line from my office. i didn't realize that...

what? oh, no, please, go ahead.

right. i see. so the dentist pulled the wrong tooth. because he was drunk. on absynthe. wow, that's different. real different. no, different is good. no, not so much for you, of course not.

ok, ma'am, i understand you're very upset, and in what you understand to be "pain." yes, ma'am, i made the air quotes. that was very perceptive of you. now, i grant you, you sound like you've got about 10 packets of banana blast gu in your maw, but i think you need to put this in perspective. now, i...

i'm sorry? hello, it's a carb replacement energy gel. well, maybe if you turned off matlock and got off your ass, you'd have known that.

uh, no ma'am, i said... if jews turned over and cottoned giraffes, you'd have known that. no, ma'am that doesn't make sense, but it's ok, i'm a runner. i mean, an attorney.

so, look, i feel for you, but i mean, it's not like you've got, say, an IT band problem, or a stress fracture, or plantar fasciitis. heard of that? yeah, i got that. i get these pains in my feet that go up my ankle, and they annoy me and make me want to kick my cats, if it wouldn't, you know, hurt my feet. plus, they'll sleep next to my legs the night before the run and keep the hammies warm. no ma'am those aren't small hams.

you can file a complaint online, on our website. you don't need to talk to me. especially today. i mean... are you... are you talking to me? are you talkin' to me? cause... i don't see anyone else that's running a marathon this sunday.

you know, i shouldn't even be at work right now. i mean, what the hell? i'm making calls trying to see what the hell the hold-up is with sunday. i think my calendar is slow. i should be home stress-testing my socks, and making sure there's no exposed elastic in the liner of my shorts. i should be hanging upside down in a vat full of icewater and listening to some ice cube, ac/dc, and mars volta to keep me mentally prepared. i shouldn't be here sneaking monopolova into my iced tea at work.

but here i am, listening to your petty problems. oh, a golf-ball sized abscess? oozing pus? yeah, well, i got a toenail i could show ya that'd make you gag. what? a fever? A FEVER? you wanna talk about hot - do you know the temp outside? it's 79 DAMN DEGREES! the wind is gusting up to 16 mph from the SOUTH! that's a headwind! what? why in god's name would anyone be going north on sunday morning? are you mental?

i need sunday morning's temperatures to curve smoothly from 38 degrees at 7:00 am, to 50 at about 11:30. i need low humidity. and a tailwind. i was promised a tailwind. i converted to catholicism two weeks ago just to get low humidity and a tailwind. so help me god, and i mean that literally, i'll go aetheist!

no, i'm not spending taxpayer money staying glued to weather websites. i opened a personal credit card to pay a meteoroligist to sit in my office and give me verbal reports every ten minutes, freeing me up to study the course map carefully during my work hours. i don't know, he used to work in portland, then there was something about a career day visit to the local highschool. not important, except it made him a little more affordable.

so, you know, it's easy for you to sit there and mumble, with very poor diction, i might add, "look at me, my 72 year-old negligently mangled mouth hurts, i might die from the infection. wahhhh." but sunday morning, while you're watching faux news and gumming some pureed scrambled eggs, ima be at about mile 14, schvitzing through whatever nike dri-fit shirt i finally decide on, hoping the bandaids hold on over my nipples, and trying to focus on the hot girl in the black tights in front of me, hoping it'll distract me from the weird twinge of pain in my left ass cheek.

yeah, you're damn right. no, don't cry, you didn't know. now you do. call me back on tuesday. afternoon.

The Grand Finale

OK, so, I've left just the last I left the half marathoners at 12.5 and the marathoners at 25.4 or so, both at 15th and San Jacinto, where the courses rejoin each other. Clearly, you won't rally be reuniting at this point, but we've run this entire season as a team, sharing the experience of training, differentiated only by numbers here and there. When you get to this point, get it in your head that we're all back together here at this intersection as a team, and we're all heading for home.

You have this one last hill, but it's nothing, and you have, at most, a couple of laps of the track left. When Phillip and I ran Austin in 2006, the first for both of us, this hill was at mile 20 or so, which sucked severely.

And now, at the end of your race, you can't let it slow you down. Form form form, strong strong strong. At the top, you turn right onto 11th, and you get a downhill. Let it take you. Be careful and in control, because you'll likely be a little tight at this point.

Left turn on Congress, and it's glory time. Mandy's band is to the right, the crowds are all around, and let me tell you, they love to see a good finish, whether it's for first or four thousandth. You sped up coming down the hill - hold that pace coming out of the turn.

The finish line is closer this year - nice, right? It's about in front of Kellie's building, I think, just short of 9th Street. When you hit 10th, kick it up a notch. Adrenaline can even knock out cramps and a good deal of pain. Start picking runners in front of you and passing them, one by one. Run fast by being quick and relaxed - more like strides (not you, Laura) than sprinting - if you try to push yourself too hard, you risk pulling a hamstring or something. Stay relaxed and in control, and just finish strong. Run all the way through the finish, and get yer damned shiny, shiny medal.

OK, so of course, I've got more to say. I'll save some of it for race morning. For now, it's enough to say that you are ready for this race. You've put in the time and the work, and yeah, I'll put our training up against anyone's. It's taken a village - you've gotten what great coaches taught me, and some of the great coaches in Austin have been there for me when I had questions or needed help. You're a product of the absolute best of the Austin running community, in terms of experience and knowledge, and in terms of heart and soul - you came into this group understanding that we don't do elitist, we don't do uppity, we don't do rude, and we know the difference between being a team and having a mob mentality.

You're a product of each other's support, and each other's experiences, successes, mistakes, good runs and bad runs.

And who you are now is obviously a product of the work you've put in, and of the goals and hopes that made you take this task on, have gotten you through the tough workouts and moments of doubt, and have gotten you here, ready to get to the starting line.

Ultimately, I'm proud of the product, of you all as runners, but I am even more proud of all those things that shaped you. Times, distance run, even Boston or Olympic qualifying, are all inadequate measures of an individual, of their will and their character. "The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare." Running 13.1 miles or 26.2 miles is a stunt - an impressive one, but just a stunt. But training as you have, and committing to make the hard choices to do your best, is an accomplishment and a true testament to your character. And, I believe that it is impossible for that not to affect the rest of your life, and the people around you.

That's the point of it all, for me, and I hope for you. Have fun with the run Sunday - you've all earned it.

Austin M&HM Race Plan: The Back Half

When we last left our intrepid band of questionably intelligent runners, the marathoners, clearly not understanding there was another option, took a left turn onto Exposition, while the only slightly smarter half marathoners took the shorter way back to the finish...

Half marathoners, skim through this - there's stuff to help you, too. Also, remember, if you're looking at the map, the mile marker marks the end of that mile, not the beginning...

Miles 11 and 12: The End of the Beginning
OK, so the marathoners are not off the dragon's back yet, but only have a little over a mile left to ride through it. You've all run it enough times that you'll probably unconsciously avoid potholes. And, for those of you who ran the Double Dragon, just think to yourself, "Well, at least I only have to do it once today."

Here, form, form, form. The road should open up a bit with the half marathoners turning off. Get out of the camber on the sides, and run the crown of the road, or at least out where it's a little flatter.

You get the short climb, then the long climb up to Windsor, then you've got a little reprieve until the big hill going up to Westover. Do not worry about your time here - this hilly portion is just a couple of miles out of 26.2. Don't burn yourself up now, when you could be conservative and have more in the tank later. Just get up the hill, balancing your pace and your energy output. Keep your head up, and your hips pressed into the hill. Roll all the way through your foot with every stride. There will be some crowd support here, but you should really be able to hear the crowd and the band at the top. Let that draw you up the hill.

When you get to the top, relax, shake it out. You've got another, oft-overlooked hill going up to 35th, and the climb to the peak of the bridge over Mopac is always a bit harder than I expect. Cherish this - it's not the last hill, but it's the last for another 9 or 10 miles, and it's the last of the hilly sections.

Now you get a downhill to Jackson, where you make a left turn.

Miles 13-18: Where the Hell Am I and What the Hell Am I Doing?
I always think this point is a little disorienting, which is bad, since I'm already only half Asian. HA! Sorry. Anyway, by this time, the initial excitement of the race has worn off, you enter neighborhoods where the crowds are spottier, and you've gotten through the section that people are stressed about, and that presented a set of challenges for you. From here on out, it's just a matter of running, and running, and running.

You can't lose purpose or discipline here, and your priority now is to get back on pace. If you feel good, you might be tempted to speed up, thinking it's flat from here on out. I would advise against that - it's not flat, for one thing - it's mostly a low, uphill grade until you get up to Great Northern, and then, of course, there's Great Northern. Really, you're not going to get significant flat or downhill until you turn onto Woodrow. And, there's always that other thing - you've got 14 miles left to run.

So, trust me, it's not as simple a calculation as it seems - "Gee, I've run the 12 hard miles, and I feel good. I should speed up." Well, maybe, maybe not. You've run 18, 20, 22 miles, and you should remember how the miles catch up to you quickly near the tail end of those distances. And, that four tacked onto the end of 22 aren't exactly a cakewalk. So, no matter how good you feel, just use these next four miles to see how you feel getting back on and staying on your marathon goal pace. If you dropped a bit of pace in the hills, that's fine - be patient, pick up just a little time on each mile until you get back to pace.

You'll take a right turn at 39th through a little neighborhood, then a left on Bull Creek. You hit the halfway point on Bull Creek, near 45th. Yihah. You cruise up to Hancock, take a right, go down a little hill and up a little hill. Again, just maintain pace.

Again, there's not a lot to say about these miles. You're running. You're trying to stay on the flat parts of the street, off the camber. It the sun's out, you stay in the shade. You're staying relaxed. If you feel things tightening up, change things up a little - butt kick lightly for a few strides, pull the knees a bit higher for a few, run slightly stiff-legged, kicking lightly out in front of you a bit.

There's a small incline up White Rock to Great Northern, then you enter, as I always think of it, what Douglas Adams might have called "the long, dark, teatime of the soul." Long and flat, the road itself is numbing, even discouraging for some people, and you're entering the true "middle miles" of the race. You've been on this road and on those miles, so you know them well. You know both better than the majority of the other runners out there. So, this is a good test of your where you're at with your pace. If you hold pace well here, and you get through mile 16 and up to Foster, and still feel just outstanding, then you can start thinking about turning up the pace, though I don't think I'd put too much effort into that just yet, at least not until you make the turn south.

If you do increase your pace, start planning in your head. Plan on just increasing your pace by just five seconds or so, and holding that pace up to mile 20, where you can reassess it then.

You might be at a point where you seriously doubt your ability to maintain your pace for the rest of the race. You're at an important decision point, and only you can truly make that choice. I will say that if you held on up to Great Northern, don't let your performance on Great Northern decide the rest of your race. It's a tough stretch of road. Just hold on, do your best, try to run comfortably for now, and make any real decisions after mile 18.5, when you've turned back south and into the downhills and flats.

At Foster, behind Northcross, you should see some crowds again, which should really help. You also know that you've hit the uppermost point of the course, and soon you'll be heading home. Let it boost you, but if you're considering upping your pace a little, again, think back to your training runs, and ahead to the final miles, and carefully weigh your decision.

Finishing mile 18, you're halfway down Morrow. Start looking at the ridiculous blue line we painted down the street - it'll be there for quite a while. Think of it as a big blue thread pulling you down the course.

Mile 18.5-24: Homeward Bound
I refer to the Simon and Garfunkel song, not the ridiculous Disney movie, though, if the ridiculous Disney movie works better for you... whatever.

At 18.5, you turn the corner south onto Woodward, and you're on your way to the finish. You're close to the end of the dreaded "middle miles", and the elevation profile finally starts trending downhill. This is another good spot to relax, shake out the arms, and hit the mental and physical "reset" button. If you're looking at the finish at this point, it's going to seem improbably far. You still want to break it into manageable chunks, a few or a couple of miles at a time. It's like when we do repeats - you don't want to think about the total mileage you have left, it's easier to think about the repeat you're on right then, and worry about the next one later.

These are flat to slightly downhill streets. If you struggled through the middle miles, try to regain a relaxed rhythm. If you're feeling strong, and have easily maintained your pace, you again have to choose whether to hold where you are, or give the pace a little nudge.

Most of us are going to have felt discomfort and maybe a bit of pain by now. We've all had little to large "dings" in the past six months, little to large aches and pains, and we all know what we really need to be concerned about, and what we can safely push ourselves through. If you're hurting here, don't dwell on it, but don't just try to ignore it, either - take a zen approach, or rather, a zazen approach. It's like meditation. People think they have to clear their mind, and they end up getting all mentally bunched up by trying not to think. Acceptance (but not resignation) is the better way - go through your body from head to toe. Think about how you feel. Look at it like you're picking up a shiny object, then put it back down. Go through it all, then be done with it.

I also know that all that zen stuff is a matter of practice, and sometimes just too hard to do. If it doesn't work for you, then just... don't give up, right?

Down Woodward and Arroyo Seco, left on Romeria, and back onto Woodrow, all the way to North Loop. Again, all you have to worry about is getting in, and/or staying in your rhythm and pace.

North Loop is a little challenge, but you're not running the full length of it like you did at 3M - this is relatively easy. If you've been struggling or just been holding on, let it take a little pace from you - conserve your effort to get you to the finish, or for where it's better used. If you're feeling good, try to minimize how much it takes from your time, but don't burn yourself up.

You turn right on Guadalupe, left on 46th. 46th kind of gently undulates ahead of you, up and down, and you can still see that blue thread of a line from last year, pulling you down it.

Left turn on Avenue H, right on 49th, and then, glory be, right turn onto Duval, and all it's glorious, perfect-decline downhills. You should start getting some more people out there cheering, and you're in more familiar territory, approaching the UT campus and all those students with their Sunday morning hang-overs. Take it all as a sign that you're close, you're out of the suburban and mental wilderness, and returning to center, where there's going to be lots of people supporting you.

There's a slight uphill just past 45th street. Don't think about the effort, think about the form. That will carry you through, and will make you feel stronger.

You're close. You have to make choices here about the balance between banking time and energy on these downhills, with the major thing in mind being what comes at the end of the downhill...

Mile 25-25.9: The Gut-Check, and the Flow to the Finish
OK. So, you knew before most people the changes in the course, and you ran the new course before most people, and you all know about Dean Keeton. Some of you ran the Human Race, that cruel August evening adventure, that had you running up this hill late in the race. From what I can recall, you marathoners have all run this, and run it well - you've beaten it, and on Sunday, you will not have run 24 miles just to be beaten by a hill that a bunch of out-of-shape engineering students and sorority girls jog up on a daily basis.

If you have not walked, or walked much, by now, then unless you get a cramp or something that really medically concerns you, you will not walk now. Be determined, pull your form together, decide you're going to look better and stronger than all the people dying around you. At the same time, when you see someone struggling up it with you, encourage them, tell them to keep moving, to come with you. Decide you're stronger, more experienced, and that you're there to set the example for the others. Don't push the pace, just be strong and steady. This is the hill that people will talk about, and you're going to be proud of how you took it on.

When you get to the top, it's time to think about finishing this damned thing. You've got a slight downhill shooting straight down the Drag. Trust that your breathing will catch up on its own coming off the hill, and maintain effort. Focus on being light and loose and striding easy.

At the left turn onto MLK, you've finished 25 miles, and you get the reward for your effort on Dean Keeton - an equally long downhill. Relax, and do what you can without burning out just yet.

Right turn on San Jacinto - a long, slight grind up to the last hill. It is too late to drop form or pace - hang on.

At 15th, the half marathon course rejoins you (though they will be long done). We'll finish together tomorrow...

The Austin M&HM Race Plan, Part One

OK, so I still see no need to completely reinvent the wheel with this, though it is updated a bit from last year, due to course changes, and to the continuing process of figuring this course out. Half marathoners and marathoners share the first ten miles, of course, so let's get through those together first:

This is a different race…If you ran 3M, do not take this race for granted. This race is an entirely different experience. Race management at 3M was all about regulating pace, and getting through a very few gently sloping uphills. The Austin Half, and the first 12 miles for the marathoners, will be more about intelligence, maturity and patience as it will be force of will.

Despite the difference in the elevation profile from the old Freescale courses or from 3M, this course can still be fairly fast, if you manage it properly. Many people who ran their first half at 3M will actually run faster here, just with the benefit of that bit of experience. If you’re smart and patient about the hills, you won’t give up too much time, and you’ll get enough long downward slopes to recover and catch a little of that time back. If you fail to manage the hills, going at them too hard and fast, you will pay the price with your pace later, and you won’t get the full benefit of the downward slopes.

Prepare, Yada, Yada, Yada
I won’t rehash all the stuff from my previous novel on pre-race prep, but I will emphasize that you need to be PARKED, AND ON SITE AT 6AM. No excuses, no flexibility. The race is incredibly well organized, and has been planned to cover almost every eventuality. In its first year with the downtown start/finish, parking and traffic proved to not be a problem. But the facts remain – 13,000 runners will be trying to get to a downtown start/finish, and many routes into the race area will be getting sealed off after 6am. I know the traffic plan for the route, and can answer individual questions about the best routes to take from different locations. You can also check out the traffic guide, which should be online shortly.

Have a plan, and two backup plans, for how to get to the start, and for where you’ll park.

Make sure you pack your clothing drop bag the night before. Warm, dry clothes, a small towel (you should always know where your towel is), even some shoes for after the race. Put your ID and a bit of cash in your shoe or wrapped up in something where it won’t come out, so you can buy some extra food or drink after the race from the Farmer’s Market.

There are no pace groups for the half, but you can get in with one of the full marathon pace groups for the first ten miles. So, if you’re looking at a 2:15 half marathon, get in with the 4:30 pace group (NOT THE 2:15! HA!). The pace group leaders almost always do a great job of running a flat, constant pace, and there are two for every pace, to help ensure consistency. Still, be prepared to run your own race. For one thing, you might want to drop a little pace in the hilly sections.

The starting chute will be divided by signs into various per-mile paces. Use those to place yourself.

The Course: Slaying Dragons
So, I’m not a Harry Potter fan, and I got tired of Dungeons and Dragons really quickly, but I tend to think of challenging parts of a race course as dragons. In running and looking at this course a couple of years ago, I began to think of it as one dragon in three parts. I think you can do the same with the half marathon course, because I refuse to ditch the metaphor. That’s why the runs a week ago were called the Dragon.5 (NOT the Dragon "5", Eve, and you have no proof survives, um, exists, to the contrary), or the Double Dragon.

You can choose to view the dragon, this course, as your opponent, or your friend, whatever works for your psychology, but either way, you need to understand it.

You’ve run all of the course many times over, in pieces, but again, familiarity is one of your best weapons. Drive the course, study the map, the elevation profile, run through the course in your mind as much as you can. Let’s run through it here…

Mile 1-3: Enter the Dragon
The tendency of almost all runners, not just Amy and Susan, is to go out too fast, caught up in their own adrenaline, fooled by their fresh legs, and lured into the mob mentality of the people around them that are suffering from the same afflictions. It really is like an amped-up warrior charging a dragon head-on. It looks impressive until the warrior gets summarily bitten in half or burnt to a crisp.

IF YOU GO OUT TOO FAST IN THIS RACE, IT WILL SUCK MORE LATER THAN IT NEEDS TO.

You’re going to climb over 250 feet in about 3 miles. So, look at those first three miles as your warm-up. For those of you trying to run at a certain pace, you have to let yourself be a little slower, even if its 30 seconds or even a minute per mile - you've got to keep your effort low this early on, particularly going uphill. If you're starting to breathe quite a bit harder, back off, and just relax.

You have got to get it firmly in your head that using too much energy and muscle now is going to take more than its fair share from you later in the race. That 30 seconds you give up may allow you to run faster splits at the end of the race, whereas forcing yourself to not give up that 30 seconds might make you lose minutes at the end of the race. I have foolishly proven it time and again, myself - start a marathon shooting for a 4:10, when I should have gone for a 4:20 or even a 4:30, and end up running a 4:45. Especially if this is your first marathon, do it right.

Let the crowd slow you down – don’t waste too much energy trying to dodge around people. Look around, soak in the experience. Wave at the bands, the crowds, thank the police officers (but don't waste energy or breath yelling or speeding up in response to the crowds, either). Look at all the shops. Be aware of your surroundings – what’s the address of the San Jose Motel? Does Guero’s look open? What flavors are up on the Amy’s Ice Cream menu? What brand is the giant boot? Do what it takes to calm yourself, and slow down.

As for the hill on South Congress, it’s not as bad as it looks, if you treat it with respect. It actually breaks into several chunks, with short flats in between. Treat it as multiple short hills, and enjoy those little recoveries. Use these first hills to set the precedence for your hill-climbing form for the day. Head up, hips pressed into the hill ahead of you, arms relaxed but setting the pace for your legs.

When you get to about Mary Street, past the first mile, it seems to level off, but you still have a very slight grade all the way past Oltorf, through the second mile, pretty much to Cumberland. When a race starts on hills like this, it’s hard to get into a groove. It’s easy to get down on yourself and think you’re not running well, and that you’ll never make your pace. The dragon that is this course gets help from the dragons of fear and doubt that reside in us. You’ve got to do battle with them, too. Accept the course for what it is, know there will be ups and downs, and be confident in all the work you’ve put in. When you get a true flat or even a slight downhill, don't speed up, just relax, take a breath, and feel yourself recovering.

When you’re approaching the turn at Krebs, look up ahead to see how the crowd is shaping up around the corner. You don’t want to get caught too far inside, where you might be forced over the curb, and you don’t want to be pushed to the outside. Pick a line through the corner and stick with it. If it gets crowded in this or any other turn, be light on your feet in case they bump someone else’s, and if someone in front of you is pushing you in or out, give them a very light, quick touch on the elbow to let them know you’re there.

Left turn, then a right onto the Alley Known As Ft. McGruder. It might get tight, here, but not for long. Get through the last bit of hill, and look for the crowds there - we're doing everything we can to push that as a big crowd site. I wanted rock and roll, but there's going to be some school choir there. Whatever, maybe they'll rock "If You Seek Amy".

Once you get to South First, if you’ve been disciplined, then you’ve bopped the dragon soundly on the head. Great. Don’t get cocky.

Mile 3.25-6: Glide.
You turn right on South First, and start to drop that 250 feet back off over the next 2 miles. You still have to be smart, though – this stretch is just as dangerous as the uphills you just conquered.

When you turn the corner, I want you to think again about relaxing, shake your arms out, loosen your neck and shoulders, then focus on settling into an easy pace. This is where I think you should start feeling like you’re running a race, which just means getting your head together and settling into a rhythm.

Do not try to make up time. This is another stretch where people are going to ruin their day by failing to be smart and mature. If you run it properly, and with some restraint, you’re going to get some time back, and you’re going to bank some energy, as well. On some of the steeper downhill portions, you might even put the brakes on a bit – but not too much. You need to control your pace, minimizing impact, and keeping your turnover rate from getting so high you’re actually taxing your lungs and legs. But, you don’t want to be really jamming on the brakes, either, because you’ll burn out your quads. It’s like driving a car down a mountainside – you have to finesse the brakes so you control your speed without burning them up. You’ve all worked on finding that balance – do it.

You’ll come down onto level ground past Whataburger and RunTex. You’ll feel the incline going over the South First Street bridge, then you'll hear the crowds and the St. James Missionary Baptist Church men's chorus rocking it out as you turn left onto Cesar Chavez, for the better half of what we all know and loathe as the Dog Pound Loop.

Again, draw energy from the crowd support and the music, but don’t let it affect your pace. Thank the crowd with a smile and a wave, and store that energy away for later.

Miles 6-9.25 - The Part Where You Just Run
Once you turn left onto Cesar Chavez, you’re in for the long stretches that lay between you and the dragon’s back. Please don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten my overworked metaphor… you’re fighting dragons here, remember? At this point, you’re pretty much on the dragon’s neck.

I don’t feel there’s a lot to say about these bits of the course. That’s why there’s no clever titles for these miles. You just run, and you stay disciplined and patient about your pace. You’ll get some long slow downgrades, and a few shorter inclines. Maybe you feel pretty good, and you're wanting to go - if so, do the math, and remember some of your long runs where you might have felt great at eight miles, then a few miles later... not so much. Just stay relaxed, and hold your pace. This part of the course may be boring, but it’s not insignificant, because they set you up for the hills that start at Enfield.

At about 7.75 miles, after you come out from under the Mopac Bridge on Veteran’s, you have the hill that goes up by the fire station and up to Lake Austin Blvd., across from Magnolia Café. It’s steep and a little long. But how many times have you run up this? You’re on your turf now. You have the homefield advantage, and you should feel comfortable here. Just think about all those poor sods that are from Dallas or Houston, and wouldn't have a chance in hell at matching you on the hill workouts you've done. When you hit the street that comes down from RunTex, shake out the arms and hands, relax, and roll easily into the hill. When you see the fire station and Daily Juice (because your head's up, right?), I want you to think about your form, and about keeping your hips under you and pressing them into the hill. Reinforce that good form.

There’s about a two-mile stretch down Lake Austin. Again, this is old hat to you. It’s just not a big deal. It is boring. Sorry. This spot often sees some wind - if you start feeling the wind giving you a lot of resistance, tuck in behind a group of runners, and draft. It makes a difference, and it makes you feel that much smarter than everyone else.

Miles 9.25-10: On the Back of the Dragon
So, at the end of Lake Austin, you turn right onto Enfield, right into what all the fuss is about for those that whine about the course. But again, you’ve all been here, trained here. You marathoners ran it twice a couple of weeks ago. You’re on the dragon’s back, and there’s not much he can do about it. He will writhe up and down, but you’re just going to hold on, maintain your form, keep your wits about you, and ride the hills like you have in training runs before, for not quite a mile.

At Exposition, almost exactly ten miles in, the marathoners and half marathoners will split off. I’ll continue with the half marathon course for a ways here, and wrap up both courses tomorrow.

So, the half marathoners have just a 5K left. You’re sliding down the dragon’s back, but it's going to go up again. So, again, relax from the head down, shake out your arms, and take advantage of the downhill towards Mopac. Again, as before, do not fly down this. Strike that balance. Use this to relax and gather your strength for your finish. You’ll still pick up a little pace just naturally. You want to do that and regain your energy.

Miles 10.8-12.6: The Dragon’s Tail (Well, One of Them)
Coming out from under Mopac, you get a smallish uphill. Remember your form. Keep your head up, think about your hips, and focus on being smooth and strong.

When you get to the top, just past West Lynn, make a decision. If you feel like you’ve got a lot left in the tank, and can pick up the pace, then this is the time to do it. If you do increase pace, DO IT GRADUALLY. Keep it under control, and keep it smart - you’ve been through enough workouts that you should be able to feel what you have left in you.

Remember, too, that the dragon has one last true challenge for you – the uphill at mile 11.7 or so, coming off the Lamar Street overpass on 15th Street. It’s a steep one. Even the female half marathon winner a couple of years ago commented on being surprised by this hill. You won't be. You've run it, and you've run more hills, tougher hills, than most training groups do - it's not Wilke, and it's not as painful as the Spiridon Reverse Cowboy Rainbow Repeats.

There’s a long downhill coming into it – maintain a strong, but relaxed pace. At this point, let the downhill carry you a little more than you might have earlier in the race, but still, keep it under control. Remember back to the workout in Clarksville, on Pressler, on the street with the crazy yelling guy, where you maintained your form down the hill, and worked on a slightly quicker, relaxed turnover. Find that day's groove again.

Relax and gather yourself to take that big hill. Hit it, and let it take just a little off your pace. It’s steep, that’s OK - you'd rather be able to put more into that last mile. Hold your form together – on a hill this steep, if you run with your hips under you, when you hit the top, you’ll feel a release, and it’ll feel good as you transition into another nice long downhill.

When you reach the top, relax, take some good breaths, and remember – you don’t have to slow down, because the effort you needed to climb the hill just dropped off. Trust that, and let your breath come back to you as you go down the hill a couple of blocks. Feet light, relaxed, but a little quick. Get back on your finishing pace.

You get some flat and then a little downhill towards the turn at San Jacinto. Hold your pace, or, if you have it in you, pick up the pace again just barely, and gradually. Let the downhill carry you into it. If there’s someone that’s kept their distance ahead of you for the past several minutes, decide you’re going to slowly catch them over the next few blocks. When you catch them, pick someone else, and go after them.

At San Jac, you rejoin the marathoners. Tomorrow, we'll catch them up to you, then finish it together.