2009 Hartford Marathon

October 10, 2009

I turned in my worst performance for a race of any distance at the 2009 ING Hartford Marathon. Surprisingly, I'm not terribly disappointed, probably because the lackluster showing didn't come as that big of a surprise.

I hate making excuses and I don't like to over-analyze situations. Neither normally ends up being productive. In this instance, however, I will engage in a little of both to at least attempt to explain why I struggled so much in the race.

I'll start by saying that the Hartford Marathon is a fantastic event, one that I would definitely do again. The organization is top notch, the course is fair, the volunteers are great, the crowd support is strong enough and Bushnell Park is an ideal locale for the start and finish.

I picked Hartford because of its proximity to our new home in New Jersey, and because of the good reviews the race received on http://www.marathonguide.com/. I had hoped to do a marathon sooner in the season, but my schedule just didn't permit that.

In the days and weeks preceding the race, I knew that I wasn't in "marathon shape." My weekly running miles have declined since we moved to New Jersey, mainly because of longer work hours. Various other factors also kept me from being able to dedicate the time needed on weekends for long runs.

My longest run before this race was the Jersey City Half Marathon two weeks earlier. I performed well in that race, but wasn't under any illusion it had sufficiently prepared me for the marathon. Still, I thought that all the running I had done in the past 20 months (I had done 5 marathons and two long-distance relay races) would help me make it through the Hartford race without too much difficulty. After all, I had set a PR of 3:34:23 in Green Bay in May without having trained specifically for 26.2 miles.

Since the Hartford race is on a Saturday, I took the day off from work Friday so we'd be able to drive up as soon as Max got out of school at 300. We managed to leave Cranford by 3:30, but hit horrific traffic, especially once we got to the Merritt Parkway in Connecticut. The drive ended up taking nearly 5 hours, about twice as long as I expected.

The biggest problem with that was that we didn't make it to Hartford in time for me to go to the marathon expo. As a result, I wasn't able to stock up on the shot blocks and jelly belly sport beans that I typically use for marathons. Also, since the boys were anxious to go swimming in the hotel pool, it meant that I'd be getting to bed much later than I had hoped.

I remarked to Patty on a few occasions that evening that I felt wholly unprepared to run the race the next day. That said, I wasn't dreading the run, and I still thought I'd be able to turn in a reasonably good time.

I was up at 5:30 on race morning, after a fitful night of sleep. I ate a Clif Bar, had a coffee and drank water and Gatorade. I ate a bagel on the 1-mile walk over to the XL Center, where I would pick up my number and timing chip. The check-in was very efficient.

I got to Bushnell Park at around 7:00, an hour before the start of the race. Things were buzzing already, as the runners milled around and vendors set up shop for the day. The temperature was a very comfortable 60 degrees, and the rain that had been forecast looked as though it would stay away.

At around 7:30 I packed up my bag and headed over to the bag drop area. I also tried starting my Garmin, but it didn't work. There was nothing I could do to get it to function, so I packed that up, put on my Timex and handed in the bag. I was disappointed to not have the Garmin, since I'd run each of my previous marathons with it. But since I planned on running with a pace group, I wasn't too bothered.

I went to the bathroom and then headed to the start line, near the beautiful state capitol building. The sun was starting to peek out as I scoped out the runners and looked for the pace groups. I love the nervous energy at the start of marathons - that wonderful combination of excitement, optimism and trepidation all bundled up.

I wasn't sure which pace group I would run with. I thought briefly about trying the 3:30 group, but I knew that I didn't realistically have 8:00 per mile in me for the whole race. I wavered between 3:35 and 3:40 before settling on the former, thinking I had an outside chance of setting a PR.

The 3:35 group was wonderful. There were several guys between 50 and 55 who needed 3:35 to qualify for Boston, and there were also several women hoping to qualify. The pacer was serving in that capacity for the first time. He would be running his first NY Marathon in three weeks, after running a 3:05 at Hartford a year earlier.

The race started about 5 minutes late, but not many runners were complaining. The temps were comfortable and the camaraderie was enjoyable. I downed another Clif Bar while waiting.

The first mile goes through downtown Hartford before heading over the Founder's Bridge into East Hartford. We completed the first mile in about 8:45 owing to the crowd. We sped up a bit and completed the second mile in about 8:15, still slower than the 8:12 average pace we would need but everyone seemed pleased.

I was particularly happy because the Mile 2 marker was right in front of our hotel, where Patty and the boys were waiting to cheer me on. I gave them all a quick kiss, Patty remarked how sweaty I was after just two miles (temps were in the mid-60s and it was humid) and I was on my way.

Gradually - and quite expertly, in my opinion - our pacer sped up over the next several miles. By mile 9 we were almost on pace for a 3:35 finish and almost everyone in our group was running smoothly. I felt quite good, the only problem being that I really needed to use the bathroom again.

Around Mile 10, I stopped in a port-o-potty. I took care of business and was back out on the course, probably a little more than a minute after I stopped. I was eager to keep running with the 3:35 group, so I sped up - BIG MISTAKE.

I'm not sure how fast I ran, but I suspect it was about 7 minutes/mile, since I was blowing past everyone. I could see my group in the distance and I figured I could sustain this faster pace until I caught up, at which point their pace would feel slow.

I caught the group around 12.5 miles, and I was spent. I knew at that point I would probably struggle. That's awfully early in a marathon to have that feeling.

I passed the halfway point of the race in 1:47:48, just a few seconds per mile behind 3:35 pace, but I was cooked. I took a lengthy walk break right after crossing the mats at the midpoint. Up until then I had walked though most of the aid stations so I could get full cups of beverage. But from the midpoint on, I would be relegated to more-frequent and longer walks.

I was disappointed, but still thought I could finish with a reasonably good time. If I just ran 10-minute miles I would still finish in less than 4 hours. And even though I was struggling, 10-minute miles were going to be simple. Even 9-minute miles were possible.

I wasn't, however, factoring in the cramps that would wallop me in the following miles. Before mile 15, I started dealing with cramps in my thighs and calf muscles, the kind that make you grimace (as I'm doing in the picture) and sometimes scream in pain.

I'd had problems with cramps before - at the Philadelphia and Catalina marathons - but never this soon in a race. I actually considered, however briefly, that I might not be able to finish the race.

I decided I would recalibrate my expectations - as one of my friends says, "the goal in any marathon should be to finish without the need for emergency medical intervention". I also just tried to enjoy the event and the spectacle. The scenery at this point of the race was quite nice, the volunteers were great and crowd support was strong. I also knew I would see Patty and the boys a couple more times on the course.

When the 3:40 pace group caught up with me, I managed to run with them for about three-quarters of a mile before the cramping set it. When the 3:45 group came by, I just let them go. I don't remember seeing the 3:50 and 3:55 groups, but they most certainly passed me.

Patty and the boys were waiting for me around mile 20, as the course once again passed near our hotel. This would have been the perfect opportunity to bail on the race. Six miles is an awfully long way to go when you're struggling as I was. But I figured I was earning this medal, so I shuffled off.

The next few miles were run through an area near downtown Hartford that wasn't very scenic and had relatively little crowd support. I really wasn't enjoying myself at all at this point. Seeing the 4:00 pace group breeze past me was particularly demoralizing.

Then there's a stretch of a couple miles run on a path along the river. This is quite nice, especially the cheering zone at around mile 24 where I saw Patty and the boys one final time. That gave me a bit of sustenance.

The last two miles were a struggle, as I cramped up frequently. When I did manage to run, it was really a "Frankenstein shuffle" because I couldn't bend my legs too much and couldn't lift my feet very high off the ground.

Various people who didn't appear all that fit or capable were passing me. Remarkably, I was also passing a few people who seemed to be struggling even more than I was. For me, the most demoralizing moment came - even as it made me chuckle - when a lady passed wearing a shirt that said, "I'm not fat and slow, I'm pregnant and fast." She must have been about 5 months pregnant.

The home stretch of the race would have been exhilarating had I been feeling better. Crowd support is boisterous and runners pass under the arch just before crossing the finish line to hear their names announced. I finished with a chip time of 4:06:59.

Shortly after I crossed the line, before I received my mylar wrap, I could feel my left calf tightening. Within seconds it was a full-blown cramp that had me screaming in pain. A volunteer asked me if I wanted to go to the medical tent, but I declined since I knew I could rub out the knot and walk off the pain. It was the last reminder of the extent to which this race had humbled me.

I grabbed my medal and a little food. I wasn't in the mood to eat much, which was a bummer because Whole Foods was the supplier and it was a nice spread. I grabbed a bottle of green tea and started the slow trudge back to the hotel.

As I walked back, medal around my neck, several people congratulated me for finishing the race, including many people who still had several miles to go in the race. Just a few steps away from my hotel, I came across runners who still had 6 miles to go. When they congratulated me, I felt guilty for having written in an e-mail immediately after the race that my finishing time was "dismal". Here were people who were going to finish in 6 hours, and their accomplishment was every bit as significant as mine, or as the person who finishes in 2:30. Nothing "dismal" about it.

I showered and we loaded up the car for the drive back to Jersey, which took about half as long as the previous night's drive. We arrived home in time for the boys to play outside with their friends, and we enjoyed a wonderful day on Sunday. I am a huge fan of Saturday marathons for exactly those reasons. So nice to have some time to wind down before heading back to work.

All-in-all, this was an enjoyable marathon experience. I didn't have a particularly fast finishing time, but I learned some valuable lessons about preparation and race strategy that should help me in future races. Next stop on the The Wiz's marathon circuit: New Orleans or a return to Napa in early 2009. Maybe even Richmond in a month!

2009 Green Bay Marathon - The News

TITLETOWN USA - Stephen Wisnefski recorded his fastest marathon finishing time at Sunday's 10th running of the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon.

Well-rested, injury-free and aided by ideal running conditions, Wisnefski completed the race in 3:34:23, an 8:10 per mile pace. His previous best was a 3:35:11 finish at the Community First Fox Cities Marathon last September in nearby Appleton, Wis., Wisnefski's hometown.

Wisnefski, who completed his fifth marathon in 15 months, was pleasantly surprised with his performance Sunday. Going into the race, he was unsure what to expect given that he hadn't done the kind of training he typically would have for a marathon. He ran less than 20 miles in each of the three weeks prior to the race.

"I think the relative lack of training turned out to be quite beneficial," Wisnefski told his mom, dad and two sons after the race. "My body was more-rested than usual; my legs were fresh."

Wisnefski started Sunday's race runinng along with the 3:40 pace group, but moved ahead of the group after a few miles. He ran the first five miles at an average 8:02 per mile, putting him on pace to finish closer to the 3:30 finishing time that has long been his goal.

At the 10-mile marker, Wisnefski had an average pace of 7:59 per mile, and he hit the midway point of the race in 1:44:20, or 7:57 per mile.

It was around the halfway point that Wisnefski first caught sight of the 3:30 pace group. He decided he would try to keep them within view and maintain his pace around 8 minutes per mile for the remainder of the race.

Much of the second half of the Green Bay Marathon is run on a paved trail along the Fox River. The scenery provides a welcome change for the runners.

Wisnefski held on to his 7:57 per mile pace through mile 15 and was gaining ground on the 3:30 pace group. By mile 17, he caught up with the group and started running with the pack.

"I didn't set out to catch up with the 3:30 pacer, but was able to do it by holding my pace steady," Wisnefski said. "It was a good group; the miles really ticked off when I was with those guys."

Running with the group, Wisnefski's pace slowed a bit the next few miles. At mile 20, his average pace was 7:59 per mile.

Wisnefski said he felt better at this point of the race than he had in previous marathons. During this race, to avoid the cramping that plagued him in his last two marathons, Wisnefski walked through nearly every aid station and consumed one or two cups of Gatorade.

The weather also helped. The temperature at the start was in the low 40s, under sunny skies. The temperature never got above 60, and the wind was light.

Wisnefski stayed with the pace group through mile 22, but fell back from the pack soon after that when he took a longer-than-usual walk break through an aid station. He ran mile 23 in 8:15, but just didn't have the energy to catch up with the pace group again.

"I realized I just didn't have it in me," Wisnefski said. "I started calculating what it would take to get a personal best, and I was confident I could achieve that."

Wisnefski, after all the hydrating he'd done, was also in desperate need of a bathroom. He stopped at a port-o-john in mile 24, and felt considerably better after that.

Runners look forward to running a loop through historic Lambeau Field in the final mile of the race. For Wisnefski, a life-long fan of the Green Bay Packers who hadn't been in the stadium in 30 years, it was a special treat.

"It was one of the main reasons I decided to do this race," he said, referring to the loop through Lambeau. "Seeing Lambeau in the distance (in mile 26) provided a big mental boost, and coming out of the tunnel into the stadium was really inspiring."

The Lambeau inspiration, as well as the sight of his parents and sons, enabled Wisnefski to pick up the pace in mile 26, which he completed in 7:50.

The finish line is visible to runners when they exit the stadium, only about a tenth of a mile away. Wisnefski made a final push when he realized he could have a clock time of less than 3:35. The chip time was about 30 seconds faster than the clock time.

Feeling better than he ever had at the end of a marathon, Wisnefski retrieved the truly unique medal and sought out his family. He then enjoyed a brat and Titletown Brewing Company 26.2-Mile Ale.

Wisnefski finished 313th out of the 1585 runners who completed the marathon. He was 57th out of 175 in the 40-44 male bracket. Click here and here for the details.

The Green Bay race capped a busy start to 2009 for Wisnefski, who ran the Catalina Marathon in mid-March and was a member of a team that participated in a 200-mile relay race from Gettysburg, Penn., to Washington DC last month.

Wisnefski isn't sure what comes next on his running schedule, as he's getting set to transfer to the New York area. He says he's looking forward to training and racing with his colleagues there.

2009 Catalina Marathon

Avalon, California
March 14, 2009

I was near the highest point on the course around mile 22, overlooking the town of Avalon, when I encountered yet another ridiculous hill. There was no one else in sight, as had been the case for the last mile or so, and I was overcome with emotion. The endless climbing was getting to me and my legs were killing me. But I knew I would finish, and I felt an exhilaration I'd never before felt during a race. I was overwhelmed by the experience - the enormity of the challenge, the stunning beauty of Catalina Island and an immense sense of accomplishment combined to create a feeling that's difficult to put into words.

I had only signed up for the Catalina Marathon five weeks earlier, when I found out I would be traveling to Los Angeles on business. Like any dedicated distance runner, my first thought upon hearing I would be in L.A. was to seek out a race that weekend. I had never heard of the Catalina Marathon, but quickly grew excited as l learned about the race and about Catalina. In addition to the chance to run a great race, it seemed like the perfect escape for my wife Patty and me.

Working out the logistics to participate in this race presents quite a challenge. I suppose that's part of what makes it so special. There are few boats to and from the island, and it takes 90 minutes to get there from L.A. We thought of staying in Avalon, where the finish line is, but the desirable and affordable options were limited by the time we looked. Staying on the island, as it turned out, would have been only slightly more convenient than staying on the mainland. Even those staying in hotels on the island had to take a boat to the start line. Camping near the start line is an option, but that's not my speed.

We booked a room at a surprisingly luxurious Holiday Inn Express in Marina del Rey, not far from the airport and very pleasant. The Catalina Flyer ferry service had scheduled a special run for 4:00 the morning of the race, and it would be leaving from Marina del Rey.

For dinner the night before the race I had a very nice chicken piccata, with loads of angel hair pasta. I had a couple of beers and lots of water. I was in bed by 8:30 but couldn't fall asleep for about an hour.

A LITTLE ANXIOUS, ARE WE?


I had three alarms set to go off at 2:30, but was wide awake a half hour before that. My taxi was coming at 3:00 to take me to the pier, so I had plenty of time to eat, apply Vaseline and generally get anxious. I consumed a bottle of water and a banana. I didn't want to eat much because the ferry ride to Catalina is often quite rough, and I didn't want to have too much in me if I got sick on the boat.

I arrived at the boat-loading area by 3:15, 45 minutes before the departure. I was first in line, which wasn't my intention. I just was overly cautious about finding my way there because if I missed this boat, there would be no way to make it to the race. When a couple other early birds arrived ten minutes later, I told them that it had certainly paid off camping out overnight to get the first spot. They laughed.

The spirit among runners as we waited to board was contagious. First-timers were asking race veterans about strategy for tackling the hills, runners were comparing notes on how well-prepared they were, and there was plenty of talk about how lucky we were to have such a nice day for a race.

The enthusiasm continued on the boat for the first 15 minutes or so, but as folks settled in for the long ride, many fell asleep and others listened to their iPods, with just a few carrying on conversations. The waters were calm, but it felt a bit odd to be sailing across the ocean in complete darkness. I ate a container of Honey Nut Cheerios, a Power Bar, drank some coffee and had a bottle of water.

We disembarked around 5:30 in the town - if you can call it that - of Two Harbors, where the race would start. I headed straight to the registration area to pick up my bib and grab my bag-check tags. (No chip timing here)

I then entered the small diner where runners had congregated and asked a fellow runner if I could sit at his table. We struck up a conversation and - this is one for the 'small-world' files - quickly realized that we both worked for the same company - his name is John and he works in L.A., while I work in Chicago. This would be John's second Catalina Marathon, and he was using it as a training run for Boston, which he hopes to finish in under 3:00 hours. The pre-race time flew by as we gabbed about running and work. (He would finish this year's Catalina race in 4:10, after an astonishing 3:37 last year.)

We had to walk about half a mile to the start line, which was simply a white line painted across the dirt road. No banners, no blaring music or irritating MC. The runners were an eclectic mix - a more-grizzled lot than in your average marathon.


AND THEY'RE OFF!


The gun went off at 7:03 just as the sun was coming up. The temperature was in the high 40s, and conditions remained ideal throughout the race. The skies were slightly overcast throughout, so it was never uncomfortable even as the temperature rose.

The first third of a mile of the race may have been the longest flat stretch on the course. After that, we climbed above 800 feet by the 2.5-mile mark. We then descended to about 600 feet by mile 3, and then climbed about 400 feet over the next mile. I had to walk part of that climb, as did everyone around me. The views of Two Harbors below were stunning at the start.

My splits for the first four miles were 10:30, 9:57, 9:18 and 10:20. Though that's about two minutes slower per mile than I would typically run a marathon, I was quite pleased with my performance over a difficult stretch. I was hoping to finish the race in 4:30, so I was a bit ahead of that pace.

I was somewhat anxious, though, because my first dose of a steep downhill proved to me that going downhill took a big toll on the body. I wasn't accustomed to running such steep downhills for sustained periods, and certainly not over dirt and sharp rocks, so I was putting on the brakes with every step to avoid losing control. The experienced trail runners clearly knew how to let go, and their legs were conditioned to handle the pounding.

As we approached a sharp corner on a steep descent, I asked a fellow runner, only half-joking, whether he thought anyone had ever lost control, failed to make the turn, and tumbled down the hill. He told me he'd seen people over the years fall face first into the dirt. I didn't see anyone fall, but did see plenty of bloodied knees on runners crossing the finish line later in the day.

The next four miles were mostly downhill, losing a net 1000 feet in elevation. My splits for this stretch were 9:11, 9:32, 8:39, and 8:03.

The following three miles treat runners to some of the more beautiful views on the course, as well as some very steep ascents. I was walking up each of the big climbs, as I'd been advised to do by folks who'd done the race before. By this point, I'd decided that I would try to keep my average pace below 10 minutes per mile. I did miles 9 through 11 in 10:28, 8:56 and 10:56, and I was quite pleased with that.

With mile 12, runners venture into the heart of the island, moving away from the coast into areas that few tourists typically see. Mile 12 also has the last downhill stretch before 8 miles of climbing that take the runners from about 200 feet to 1500 feet above sea level. I completed mile 12 in 8:50.


HILL FROM HELL


I had studied the elevation chart closely before the race, so I was well aware of what lay ahead. Still, it was hard to comprehend just how tough the climbing would be until I was out there on the course. There was no way for me to train for these conditions back in suburban Chicago. I was just hoping that my legs would hold out long enough for me to finish. I could feel my right calf tightening a bit on occasion, and my thighs hurt on the downhills.

I had to walk a bit in mile 13 and also made a pit stop to use the bathroom at a place called Eagle's Nest Lodge (which wasn't really a lodge at all as far as I could tell) at the 12.9-mile mark. I finished mile 13 in 10:14.

My time was somewhere around 2:07 at the half-way point of the race. I started thinking that I might be able to finish in 4:15, but I didn't dwell on it.

The nice thing about having to endure steep climbs is that the not-as-steep climbs seem flat by comparison. As a result, I was able to settle into a nice groove for the next few miles. My splits for mile 14 through 16 - a stretch that involved a relatively modest 300-foot elevation gain - were 9:20, 9:50 and 9:02.

It's probably worth mentioning something here about crowd support. There really was none to speak of until the last half mile or so of the race. The population of the whole island is less than 4,000, and nearly all those folks live in Avalon. (Interesting note - William Wrigley purchased Catalina Island in 1919, and the Cubs did their pre-season training there from 1921 through 1951. The Wrigley family deeded its shares in the island in the mid-1970s to the Catalina Island Conservancy, which stewards almost the entire island now.)

The middle stretch of the course was particularly tough without anyone cheering you on, especially since the runners had spread out quite a bit by now. There were lengthy sections where I was running on my own.

The grades of ascent get steeper in the second half of mile 17, which caused me to slow my pace for that mile to 10:49, as I braced for some of the tougher climbs on the course.

I'd heard from plenty of folks earlier about how difficult Pump House Hill would be. It involves a 400-foot climb over nine-tenths of a mile, ending at about the 18.6 mile mark of the course. (By comparison, the much-ballyhooed Heartbreak Hill in Boston involves a near-100-foot climb over half a mile.) Everyone - except three guys running together who had to be in their early 20s and who looked remarkably fresh - walked almost the entire hill. I completed mile 18 in 13:16.

I met a guy walking up the hill (we'd been passing each other for miles) who told me he'd done this race eight years in a row. He advised me not to put any pressure on myself, to not worry about time. He said there was a lot of running left, including some significant climbs, and that the best advice he could give was to enjoy the beautiful scenery. He assured me the payoff would be substantial in the final miles.

There was a much-needed rest area at the top of Pump House Hill. I walked slowly through this area as I'd done at each one previously to consume food and drink. I had a couple cups of Gatorade, as well as some pretzels and M&Ms, which were available at every rest area. At an earlier rest stop I'd eaten a homemade chocolate chip brownie, which was a welcome treat. Fruit and gel were also available at some of the stops, and I had carried Jelly Belly Sport Beans and a couple packs of Power Bar gel on my belt. I felt as though I had done a good job of fueling.


ON MY OWN


I jogged away from the rest area onto the start of a two-mile stretch of paved roadway, and we were climbing once again. About a quarter mile down the road, my right calf locked up completely. I stopped momentarily to rub it, then walked a few yards, then shuffled off. I finished mile 19 in 13:12, and was now thinking that I'd be lucky to finish the race in 4:30, if I finished at all.

The climb continued until about the halfway point of the next mile, before a descent that enabled me to speed up the pace in mile 20 to 9:21. No cramps.

The next few miles had some quick, steep ascents and descents. My legs were generally sore at this point, so much so that even walking up certain inclines was tough. At one rest stop I took Advil, which was the first time I'd ever taken anything to deal with the effects of running. Until this race, I'd never event taken anything in the days following marathons.

I completed miles 21 and 22 in 12:40 and 11:01, respectively, and was completely on my own during most of that stretch. It was strange to be running in this reasonably large, and very-well-organized race, and to not see another soul in front of or behind me.

And so it was that I found myself in tears as I climbed what turned out to be the second-to-last big hill of the race. I can't pinpoint why I was so emotional, and maybe it doesn't really matter. It wasn't because I was in pain or that I thought I couldn't finish. In fact, I was feeling quite satisfied at that point. I knew that soon it would all be downhill, and the views of the town of Avalon below were amazing.

Three guys passed me in mile 23, as I walked one last time up a hill. We all congratulated one another and one of them assured the rest of us that we were just about to start the 1600-foot descent to the finish line. I finished mile 23 in 9:49.


SCREAMING THIGHS


The descent was exceptionally painful. With each step my thighs were absolutely screaming. The downward pitch was tough enough to deal with, but the uneven surface and sharp rocks added another challenge. My big toes were hurting now too from the rubbing against the sides of my shoes.

But, hey, at least I wasn't walking. I was moving at what seemed like a very fast pace, though it never got faster than 8 minutes per mile. A man and a woman who obviously had plenty of experience on hills blew by me. I asked the woman how her thighs felt, and she said, 'They feel great. I love this part.' (She ended up finishing nearly four minutes ahead of me, so she was flying.)

The guy I'd met on Pump House Hill also passed me late in mile 24. He congratulated me and told me to look forward to the crowd support in Avalon. We chatted momentarily about how difficult it was to train for a race like this in suburban Chicago, and he told me I should be very proud.

I finished mile 24 in 8:49, and was now thinking I might actually be able to finish in under 4:20.

I had another severe cramp in my right calf early in mile 25, but rubbed it briefly and shuffled along for a few seconds until I could resume my stride. I passed a handful of hikers who were enjoying a Saturday in the Catalina hills, another sign that I was approaching civilization. I finished mile 25 in 8:50.

Late in mile 25, the course leaves the trails and goes to paved roadways for the final stretch into town. I recalled that a fellow runner had told us while we waited for the boat earlier that we would know we had made it when we saw the Catalina golf course. So I was indeed relieved to see the golf course, though the good feeling dissipated when my calf locked up one final time. This one caused me to scream in pain, but I did the same rub-walk-shuffle drill and I was fine. I finished mile 26 in 8:34.


SOAKING IT ALL IN

No one had passed me in the previous two miles and I was intent on not letting anyone do so before I crossed the finish line. I had never felt so strong in the final stages of a marathon. Maybe all the walking had helped me conserve energy. Maybe the running on dirt had taken less of a toll on my body. Maybe I'm just in better shape after running four marathons in a little more than a year.

The great thing about running on my own at the end of the race was that all the cheering once I got to the streets of Avalon was just for me. The three teenage girls jumping and hollering, the couple walking their dog who said 'way to go', the grandparents strolling their grandchild who congratulated me, the folks sitting outside the cafe cheering and clapping - all for me. And in a first ever, my name was pronounced correctly by the announcer as I crossed the finish line, in 4:20:09.

I was greeted at the finish line by Patty, who had arrived just 5 minutes earlier after taking the 9:30 boat over from Marina del Rey. She told me I looked great and gave me a hug and a kiss, which was impressive given how grimy I was.

Thanks to a tip I got from some folks I met on the boat, I knew there was a public shower not far from the finish line. The two dollars it cost me to shower was money well-spent. Patty and I enjoyed a lunch of fish tacos and beer, and then took in the sights on the island until the boat left at 5:00.

The Catalina Marathon was the best race I've done. It was the most demanding by far and, even though I finished 45 minutes slower than my marathon PR, I've never felt a bigger sense of physical accomplishment. I can't recommend this event highly enough. I will definitely do it again, and hopefully will lure a friend or two to do it with me.

In the days following the race, I was back at work dealing with the usual stress of the job and concerns about whether we'll ever sell our house. But each time I thought of the race, or looked at a picture from that wonderful day, the stress would melt away. I was blessed to have experienced Catalina.

THE STATS

My finishing time of 4:20:09 (per-mile pace of 9:56) was good for 121st place out of 652 runners. I was 19th out of 53 runners in the Male 40-44 group. The average finish time among all participants was 5:12:09 and the average time for my age group was 4:45:35. The overall winner came in at 3:00:09.

Click here to see the details of my run.