Rockin’ at the Rock and Roll – The PF Chang Rock and Roll Phoenix Marathon Report
all that noise, all that sound
all those places I got found
and birds go flying at the speed of sound
to show how it all began
birds came flying from the underground
if you could see it then you'd understand - ColdPlay - Speed of Sound
Well, the Marathon just turned 45 for me. On Sunday, January 18th, I toed the line in Phoenix with several thousand other hardy souls to traverse the 26.2 mile, music-studded urban-Phoenician course. Fulsome thanks to brother Mark Gershman, who provided opulently decadent housing for the night before the race, incredible libations before and after, and outstanding tour guide and logistical services for my stay as well as non-stop scintillating conversation.
So, I headed out from Tucson at 0900 on Saturday morning for what was supposed to be the hour and forty minute or so drive to Phoenix. I was making great time until I hit the south end of Phoenix and the urban density reared it’s ugly head with a multi car back up on “the Ten” which I spent about a half hour creeping through. I exited on “The Sixty” and headed to “The One-oh-One” North and lo-and behold the entrance ramp was closed for weekend construction. After traversing some never-ending exit ramps and heading back the other way, I eventually wound up on surface streets, in yet more gridlock, headed in vaguely the right direction to get to Mark’s house. And, by now I’m about a half hour behind schedule.
Got to Mark’s most excellent abode and after a tour of his amazing space, we head down to the Expo for packet pickup.
The Expo was held in downtown Phoenix (I almost typed Tucson for some reason!) in the sprawling, and partially newly remodeled convention center. After circling the block a few times, we squeezed into a broken parking meter space and soon joined the large stream of humanity flowing into the Convention Center doorways. True to form of this being a “Rock and Roll” event, outside was a full PA system with a rapid-fire Announcer pumping up the crowd as we walked by, and blasting indecipherable music.
Packet pickup was quick – indeed, the Marathon was the lesser of the two races, with the Half Marathon being the most largely attended. There were about 9500 marathoners registered for the race (about 2/3’s of that number were finishers the next day), however there were probably more than 25,000 registered for the Half – quite a big difference. More on that later.
Due to the lesser quantities of Marathoners, I was able to stroll right up and pick up my bib and envelope (#3719), encountering an ebulliently smart-assed volunteer, who asked for my Photo ID, and then asked if I also had a non-photo id. Sensing correctly that he was screwing with me, I retorted with some smart-ass comment regarding the non-efficacy of that. He complimented me on being awake and seeing through his ruse. He then explained the new “D-Chip” a vinyl throw away RF ID Tag that was pasted to the bib, and showed me the instructions for peeling it off and attaching it to my shoe. New technology – throw away chips!!! I like the idea about not sweating a $40 lost chip and also not having a walnut-sized hunk of plastic precariously zip tied to my shoe, however, my hope was that the technology was stable enough to record my time. I thought later too how this is also not doing much for decreasing the non-biodegradable vinyl laminate material that is going to clog our overtaxed landfills as well. I guess we’ll soon have one implanted in ourselves that will solve all of these issues!
Bib and chip picked up, it was time to go get my T-Shirt. Typical of the previous Rock and Roll experiences, the T-shirt was a disappointment – a non-descript, non-technical white 100% cotton, with some multi-hued logos front and back. Later it was explained to me that they make most of their money on Merchandising and their hope was that I would gravitate directly to the Merchandise Area and purchase a $10 logo’d Technical Shirt or Sweatshirt for $50 or $60 to commemorate my exciting event. Being a veteran of these Marketing tactics, I refrained admirably from adding to my debt load or Running Apparel collection and would have gotten out of the expo with wallet and credit card further unscathed had it not been for a responsibility I had to fulfill.
So, I headed out from Tucson at 0900 on Saturday morning for what was supposed to be the hour and forty minute or so drive to Phoenix. I was making great time until I hit the south end of Phoenix and the urban density reared it’s ugly head with a multi car back up on “the Ten” which I spent about a half hour creeping through. I exited on “The Sixty” and headed to “The One-oh-One” North and lo-and behold the entrance ramp was closed for weekend construction. After traversing some never-ending exit ramps and heading back the other way, I eventually wound up on surface streets, in yet more gridlock, headed in vaguely the right direction to get to Mark’s house. And, by now I’m about a half hour behind schedule.
Got to Mark’s most excellent abode and after a tour of his amazing space, we head down to the Expo for packet pickup.
The Expo was held in downtown Phoenix (I almost typed Tucson for some reason!) in the sprawling, and partially newly remodeled convention center. After circling the block a few times, we squeezed into a broken parking meter space and soon joined the large stream of humanity flowing into the Convention Center doorways. True to form of this being a “Rock and Roll” event, outside was a full PA system with a rapid-fire Announcer pumping up the crowd as we walked by, and blasting indecipherable music.
Packet pickup was quick – indeed, the Marathon was the lesser of the two races, with the Half Marathon being the most largely attended. There were about 9500 marathoners registered for the race (about 2/3’s of that number were finishers the next day), however there were probably more than 25,000 registered for the Half – quite a big difference. More on that later.
Due to the lesser quantities of Marathoners, I was able to stroll right up and pick up my bib and envelope (#3719), encountering an ebulliently smart-assed volunteer, who asked for my Photo ID, and then asked if I also had a non-photo id. Sensing correctly that he was screwing with me, I retorted with some smart-ass comment regarding the non-efficacy of that. He complimented me on being awake and seeing through his ruse. He then explained the new “D-Chip” a vinyl throw away RF ID Tag that was pasted to the bib, and showed me the instructions for peeling it off and attaching it to my shoe. New technology – throw away chips!!! I like the idea about not sweating a $40 lost chip and also not having a walnut-sized hunk of plastic precariously zip tied to my shoe, however, my hope was that the technology was stable enough to record my time. I thought later too how this is also not doing much for decreasing the non-biodegradable vinyl laminate material that is going to clog our overtaxed landfills as well. I guess we’ll soon have one implanted in ourselves that will solve all of these issues!
Bib and chip picked up, it was time to go get my T-Shirt. Typical of the previous Rock and Roll experiences, the T-shirt was a disappointment – a non-descript, non-technical white 100% cotton, with some multi-hued logos front and back. Later it was explained to me that they make most of their money on Merchandising and their hope was that I would gravitate directly to the Merchandise Area and purchase a $10 logo’d Technical Shirt or Sweatshirt for $50 or $60 to commemorate my exciting event. Being a veteran of these Marketing tactics, I refrained admirably from adding to my debt load or Running Apparel collection and would have gotten out of the expo with wallet and credit card further unscathed had it not been for a responsibility I had to fulfill.
So, the entire reason the Rock and Roll was my January destination marathon was due to a Midwestern brainstorm that took place sometime back in September of 2008. My adopted little sister in Wisconsin, Rhonda (also known as “The Duchess”) decreed, shortly after the Lake Country Half Marathon at the beginning of September that our next endeavor would be to gather a herd of our fellow Wisconsinites and hie them off to the Warmth of Phoenix in January to run the Rock and Roll Half Marathon. Furthermore, she exhorted us, she had already signed up and booked her flight!
Since my dear little sister Rhonda is she-who-WILL-be-obeyed, I dutifully signed up – my rebelliousness extending only to signing up for the FULL instead of the Half, and marked the calendar accordingly. Thus It Shall Be Written!The group momentum fizzled quickly, as most of those things do as the afterglow of achievement fades and life intrudes. Rhonda, with her typical mercurial change of mind bailed on the race, leaving me to either contemplate burning another race fee and ranting about it in a later blog, or to go do the darn race anyway.
Which, of course was my intention anyway. Besides, I knew I could connect with brother Mark.
Rhonda did, however, extract a promise from me that I would “buy her something at the expo” (See the “she-who-WILL-be-obeyed part above)
So, back to the expo – Mark and I strode purposefully and inexorably towards the acre or so of Rock and Roll Merchandise to fulfill my sacred duty. After careful consideration, (about 32 seconds) I settled on an appropriate object and, was funneled towards the “checkout area” where a long line snaked through barriers set up that led to a large room, containing a sea of cash registers, all with large numbered placards on poles about 8 feet off the ground. Indeed, there was a “Wrangler” sitting atop a step ladder and as you arrived at the head of the line, after drawling “Hah y’all dewin’ today?”, he would direct you to the nearest open cash register where you paid for your stuff. Great organization!
My wallet considerably lighter, we headed out to the expo.
I’m not into expos – especially the large ones and this one was no exception. It was crowded and consisted of the typical expo stuff. Shoes, clothes, juices, bars, gels, healthy things, Bart Yasso, Paraphenalia..……I stood it for about a half a pass through and then asked Mark if he’d had enough. Being a veteran of 52 marathons, he had, and we dodged strollers, stalled people and all kinds of stuff to weave our way out of the Expo center and back to the car.
After attempting to Carbo load at Oregano’s, an amazing Phoenix chain that EVERYONE in Phoenix appeared to be at on Saturday night (two-plus hour wait and it didn’t’ get any shorter, even though we waited over an hour), we wound up doing Pizza and Salad at Sauce, another chain. It was fine and after a good snooze, we were up and out the door at 04:50 am.
It gets cold in the desert at night, and the 80 degree temperature from the day before had given way to about 49 chilly degrees. I had layered up and brought my oh-so-cool drop bag to shuck my sweatshirt once it was time to get moving. And, I was glad I did.
We were early to Finish Line and got a Primo parking space, close to the finish line which would prove fortuitous later in the day. After hanging around for awhile, we followed a stream of early morning attendees towards the bus pickup area, where a long line of school buses stretched off into the distance.
We were wrangled onto the first bus in line, exhorted by a loud voiced volunteer to “Take Every Seat! Use Every Seat! Fill up the Seats FROM THE BACK!” and shortly the bus was filled and underway.
It would not be typical of a Rock and Roll race if the transportation logistics weren’t fucked up in some way. Mark being a five-time veteran of the event soon noticed that the bus had gone astray, and wound up disgorging us some several blocks from the Marathon start area. We trudged the half or ¾ mile towards the brightly lit start area in the dark, and I was thankful for my sweatshirt as it was still darn cold.
We passed the Starting Chutes, the gear drop off and headed down past a brightly lit park towards a runner hospitality area, where they were serving Hot Coffee, bananas, sports drink, some gooey libations called “Lara Bars” and where the first of many of the bands we would see and hear that day was belting out some almost accurate, but exuberant cover tunes.
So, we hung out and I downed a cup or two of the free coffee (rare for me) which not only tasted like heaven, but woke me up with a blast of caffeine. We hung out, met a few of Mark’s many colleagues, including Jad, (who would later that day turn out an almost sub-three hour finish time), and enjoyed the music. What the band missed in accuracy, they made up for in loudness, however it was fun to Rock and Roll at 6:00 in the morning with a bunch of nervous runners milling around.
The coffee had a secondary effect and I had to deploy some emergency exit procedures and find my way to one of the several Portolet Villages that were set up around the streets around the finish line. (Not one, but THREE trips were necessitated by my Coffee intake). Thus “enlightened”, we finally headed for the gear check, which turned out to be several Brown UPS Trucks. Mine was number 16, and after making me tie and retie my bag, they took it from me (assuring me that UPS ALWAYS delivers) and we headed to the starting corrals.
As I had of course lied about my projected finish time, I was in Corral number 3. Mark was in Corral Two, also having known the system, so we got into number 3 together, and headed up towards the front, pushing our way with quiet, purposeful authority till we fetched up against the rope that divided the two corrals.
The sun had been rising and it was full daylight now. Darude’s “Sandstorm” (a personal favorite) was blasting over the PA, followed by the obligatory U2’s “It’s a Beautiful Day”. The announcer was counting down the time to the race, as two helicopters hovered overhead. Due to the lingering morning chill, I had on a throwaway T-shirt with my yellow Marathon Maniac’s Singlet underneath. Next to me was a runner “dressed for Bear” in a padded black and white checked Flannel shirt and hat. I was impressed at his lack of fortitude. Around me I hear the squeal of GPS units being fired up and synching with the overhead satellites.
After the usual blah blah blah, the newly appointed Republican Governor took the stand (to a chorus of muted Boo’s) and fired the starting gun. We were off!
The course was a series of several miles long traverses over mostly flat streets with rights and lefts, that meandered all over Phoenix, Scottsdale, and, I think the Tempe area. It was mostly Urban/Suburban, with strip malls, restaurants, gas stations with a park or two as well as some Urban six lane thrown in. There were bands, it seemed every couple of miles though for me the whole Rock and Roll thing is kind of overhyped. The idea is to keep moving, so you can hear part of a tune as you approach and then pass the various talent out on the course, however, I wasn’t interested in stopping and listening to any of the bands do a set or two. I was, after all, fighting the clock! And, indeed I saw the usual large percentage of people plugged into their IPODS, seemingly oblivious to the Rock and Roll part of the experience
The elevation wasn't bad at all - and I was pleased to note that I was some 1,500 feet below the Tucson Altitude of 2.500 feet that I had "trained" at for the last few months
So, off we went up a street, hung a left and began our long trek back to the finish line.
So let me take a few sentences to describe what has emerged as my typical, off-season training program for winter marathons. Basically, I come off the Fall racing season having used a training regime consisting solely of racing each weekend throughout the summer. I work my way from 5k’s to 10k’s to Half Marathons, and then pop off a few fall marathons which in the last few years have gone well, and then I’m fairly done for November and December, with the odd Turkey Trot of 10 miler in there. I set my sights on a January or February Marathon, and then vow to get out and do some long training runs. Time goes by, and I slog out a four miler 3-4 times a week, maybe a 7 if I’m motivated. Guilt sets in and I try to schedule a long run and then something happens, an activity, event, or weather and it doesn’t come off. Maybe I get a ten miler in, maybe not.
Race day approaches and I step up the four milers to maybe five times a week, and then finally it gets close to the marathon. I figure I can’t do long runs that close to race day, so instead, I just go into taper mode instead, trickling to a halt usually the Wednesday before the race, taking Thursday through Saturday off to be “fresh” for the race.
Textbook Runners World, that! NOT!
Races are all different, and always a struggle in some ways, yet for some weird reason, I still manage to complete them and sometimes in pretty good time – in spite of my lack of training.. This one had a distinct flavor to the effort, the two “halves” of the race had separate and distinct characteristics.
I didn’t feel great the whole first half of the race. My legs were sluggish and while Mark and I had vowed to go out slowly to “save” it for the last 10K, we were averaging about a 9:15 pace and I felt like I was going flat out. Not a good thing.
We passed the first few miles, my GPS firing accurately on the mile markers. And actually, the annoying factor of the day was that in the first 10 miles or so there was someone around me who I couldn’t shake, whose GPS, or running watch would let out a shrill squeal at regular 30 second intervals. It was more than slightly irritating and I could neither identify the culprit, nor get away from them no matter what I did.
We cranked off a 9:15, a 8:54 another 9:00 or so and then Mark and I agreed on a simultaneous Pit stop, adding an additional 1:35 to our time, so by mile four so we are already under water for a sub four hour finish
So, we cruise along, miles 5, 6, 7. At some point I shuck my shirt and add it to a donate pile at a water stop. There were plenty of alternating water stops, some with Cytomax, then Water only stops., The Volunteers at all the stops were fantastic, high energy, very supportive. Now that I'm a seasoned Desert Running Veteran I knew that the cool of the morning would give way very suddenly to the heat of a typical desert day, so I drank heavily at each water stop.
Splits were all over the map for the first half as both Mark and I struggled. 9:10, 8:51, 9:22, 9:15, 8:59, 9:38 – I’m finding it impossible to find my stride. Mark had a left leg acting up, so I shared one of my Aleve with him. We traversed the Arizona streets, making our rights and lefts, and heard the music, talked to the volunteers and made desultory conversation. The rising sun was a constant presence, mostly in our eyes as we made our way through the first half.
I started getting some inklings of the way it needed to go around mile 12 or so. Up until then, I hadn’t found my comfort zone and I was achingly reminded of my lack of training as well as all of the Miller Lites I had consumed over the last several months. We passed the Half Way point in a dismal 2:02:32 – very slow for me and I’m resigned to thinking that this was going to be a really long day.
Shortly after that and interestingly, I found that picking up my pace “felt” better. Unconsciously, I started lengthening my stride and increasing the distance between Mark and myself and by mile 14 or so I had widened the gap such that I didn’t know where he had gone. Cavalierly abandoning my brother Host, I started digging in and finally found my pace.
The second half of the Rock and Roll ROCKED! My stride started increasing and the average pace time readout on my Garmin started declining, going from 9:15, to 9:13, to 9:11 where it seemed to hang for a long time, and then down into the Nine-and-change-range. It was too late to set any records or pull off a time like the Lakefront, however suddenly it seemed like another sub-four was in sight. I started pushing the miles, gliding through 15, 16, 17, 18. I caught up to and passed the four hour pace group around mile 15 and spent the next six miles doing a “Do-si-do” with them, as they ran the water stops and I walked through. The Pace Leader called out at each mile marker "You're on schedule for four hours if you started with me!" I managed to stay ahead of them for the most part and, after mile 21, put them firmly behind me..
There really weren’t a lot of spectators on the course throughout, however at exactly mile 19.38 by my GPS, I came upon a huge crowd of people lining both sides of the street. I was actually running alone in a “lull” in the crowd as I approached them and they fell silent as I made my way towards them.
Not wanting to be unacknowledged, I pumped both fists over my head and shouted “YEAH! YEAH!” and the entire crowd, showing typical crowd stimulus response erupted with me “YEAH, YEAH!!!’ in a huge wave as I sprinted down the block between them. I heard shrieks and screams and “GO MANIAC!” as I went through the sea of my new friends and supporters.
Speaking of the Maniacs, my yellow and black shirted brethren were out in force that day. I traded nods and “Go Maniac’s!” with several of them and had a great conversation with “Silver” a well spoken gentleman from California, who was completing his 77th race. Interestingly he spent much of the time in the early miles yakking on his Cellphone as he ran, bent to one side. I also ran into #466, Cathryn, who was helping her husband qualify for Maniac Status that day. We had a great 45 second conversation as I was making my final sprint. Thanks to all my Maniac Brethren as always!
I recognized shortly after my Crowd Wave that the typical desert transition from morning cool, to Heat as the switch flipped and suddenly it was pretty darn warm. It was time to get this done.
So anyway, after my Crowd Wave at mile 19, I blasted the last 10k as if it were a….10K! I felt great and had a lot of energy. Perhaps the Carbo loading had finally hit the bloodstream? Perhaps the 1,500 foot altitude difference between Tucson and Phoenix had provided a cumulative advantage? Perhaps the Cytomax, Aleve and Ninxia Red kicked in? Who knows? Either way, once again, the Marathon Gods and Goddesses parted the seas for yours truly once again and I sprinted my way to the finish, passing streams of other runners, clocking diminishing splits of 8:54, 8:47, 8:25, a blistering 8:08 and a pretty amazing 7:39 for the final quarter mile.
The course went up and over a freeway interchange (the brief shade of the overpass a welcome respite), hung a right and made it’s way down a long road to the entrance to the parking area, then a right and a dogleg to the left, another sharp left to the finish area. I’m trying not to calculate my finish time, as I knew it was going to be close. And, the sun is beating down and heat is starting to rise from the pavement. I’m feeling some sunburn kicking in and my arms are chafed, having sweated off all my body glide. I’m thankful for my sunglasses and my dew rag.
I don’t remember much about the finish other than suddenly I was there. I pumped my hands overhead for the finish line photo and then punched my GPS. 3:58:03 on the overhead clock, 3:57:20 on the GPS (which would later be adjusted somehow by my chip to a 3:57:11) Under four hours after all, meaning that I had knocked a rousing 8 ½ minutes off my second half, coming alive in a really big way. Yeah man!
So let me take a few sentences to describe what has emerged as my typical, off-season training program for winter marathons. Basically, I come off the Fall racing season having used a training regime consisting solely of racing each weekend throughout the summer. I work my way from 5k’s to 10k’s to Half Marathons, and then pop off a few fall marathons which in the last few years have gone well, and then I’m fairly done for November and December, with the odd Turkey Trot of 10 miler in there. I set my sights on a January or February Marathon, and then vow to get out and do some long training runs. Time goes by, and I slog out a four miler 3-4 times a week, maybe a 7 if I’m motivated. Guilt sets in and I try to schedule a long run and then something happens, an activity, event, or weather and it doesn’t come off. Maybe I get a ten miler in, maybe not.
Race day approaches and I step up the four milers to maybe five times a week, and then finally it gets close to the marathon. I figure I can’t do long runs that close to race day, so instead, I just go into taper mode instead, trickling to a halt usually the Wednesday before the race, taking Thursday through Saturday off to be “fresh” for the race.
Textbook Runners World, that! NOT!
Races are all different, and always a struggle in some ways, yet for some weird reason, I still manage to complete them and sometimes in pretty good time – in spite of my lack of training.. This one had a distinct flavor to the effort, the two “halves” of the race had separate and distinct characteristics.
I didn’t feel great the whole first half of the race. My legs were sluggish and while Mark and I had vowed to go out slowly to “save” it for the last 10K, we were averaging about a 9:15 pace and I felt like I was going flat out. Not a good thing.
We passed the first few miles, my GPS firing accurately on the mile markers. And actually, the annoying factor of the day was that in the first 10 miles or so there was someone around me who I couldn’t shake, whose GPS, or running watch would let out a shrill squeal at regular 30 second intervals. It was more than slightly irritating and I could neither identify the culprit, nor get away from them no matter what I did.
We cranked off a 9:15, a 8:54 another 9:00 or so and then Mark and I agreed on a simultaneous Pit stop, adding an additional 1:35 to our time, so by mile four so we are already under water for a sub four hour finish
So, we cruise along, miles 5, 6, 7. At some point I shuck my shirt and add it to a donate pile at a water stop. There were plenty of alternating water stops, some with Cytomax, then Water only stops., The Volunteers at all the stops were fantastic, high energy, very supportive. Now that I'm a seasoned Desert Running Veteran I knew that the cool of the morning would give way very suddenly to the heat of a typical desert day, so I drank heavily at each water stop.
Splits were all over the map for the first half as both Mark and I struggled. 9:10, 8:51, 9:22, 9:15, 8:59, 9:38 – I’m finding it impossible to find my stride. Mark had a left leg acting up, so I shared one of my Aleve with him. We traversed the Arizona streets, making our rights and lefts, and heard the music, talked to the volunteers and made desultory conversation. The rising sun was a constant presence, mostly in our eyes as we made our way through the first half.
I started getting some inklings of the way it needed to go around mile 12 or so. Up until then, I hadn’t found my comfort zone and I was achingly reminded of my lack of training as well as all of the Miller Lites I had consumed over the last several months. We passed the Half Way point in a dismal 2:02:32 – very slow for me and I’m resigned to thinking that this was going to be a really long day.
Shortly after that and interestingly, I found that picking up my pace “felt” better. Unconsciously, I started lengthening my stride and increasing the distance between Mark and myself and by mile 14 or so I had widened the gap such that I didn’t know where he had gone. Cavalierly abandoning my brother Host, I started digging in and finally found my pace.
The second half of the Rock and Roll ROCKED! My stride started increasing and the average pace time readout on my Garmin started declining, going from 9:15, to 9:13, to 9:11 where it seemed to hang for a long time, and then down into the Nine-and-change-range. It was too late to set any records or pull off a time like the Lakefront, however suddenly it seemed like another sub-four was in sight. I started pushing the miles, gliding through 15, 16, 17, 18. I caught up to and passed the four hour pace group around mile 15 and spent the next six miles doing a “Do-si-do” with them, as they ran the water stops and I walked through. The Pace Leader called out at each mile marker "You're on schedule for four hours if you started with me!" I managed to stay ahead of them for the most part and, after mile 21, put them firmly behind me..
There really weren’t a lot of spectators on the course throughout, however at exactly mile 19.38 by my GPS, I came upon a huge crowd of people lining both sides of the street. I was actually running alone in a “lull” in the crowd as I approached them and they fell silent as I made my way towards them.
Not wanting to be unacknowledged, I pumped both fists over my head and shouted “YEAH! YEAH!” and the entire crowd, showing typical crowd stimulus response erupted with me “YEAH, YEAH!!!’ in a huge wave as I sprinted down the block between them. I heard shrieks and screams and “GO MANIAC!” as I went through the sea of my new friends and supporters.
Speaking of the Maniacs, my yellow and black shirted brethren were out in force that day. I traded nods and “Go Maniac’s!” with several of them and had a great conversation with “Silver” a well spoken gentleman from California, who was completing his 77th race. Interestingly he spent much of the time in the early miles yakking on his Cellphone as he ran, bent to one side. I also ran into #466, Cathryn, who was helping her husband qualify for Maniac Status that day. We had a great 45 second conversation as I was making my final sprint. Thanks to all my Maniac Brethren as always!
I recognized shortly after my Crowd Wave that the typical desert transition from morning cool, to Heat as the switch flipped and suddenly it was pretty darn warm. It was time to get this done.
So anyway, after my Crowd Wave at mile 19, I blasted the last 10k as if it were a….10K! I felt great and had a lot of energy. Perhaps the Carbo loading had finally hit the bloodstream? Perhaps the 1,500 foot altitude difference between Tucson and Phoenix had provided a cumulative advantage? Perhaps the Cytomax, Aleve and Ninxia Red kicked in? Who knows? Either way, once again, the Marathon Gods and Goddesses parted the seas for yours truly once again and I sprinted my way to the finish, passing streams of other runners, clocking diminishing splits of 8:54, 8:47, 8:25, a blistering 8:08 and a pretty amazing 7:39 for the final quarter mile.
The course went up and over a freeway interchange (the brief shade of the overpass a welcome respite), hung a right and made it’s way down a long road to the entrance to the parking area, then a right and a dogleg to the left, another sharp left to the finish area. I’m trying not to calculate my finish time, as I knew it was going to be close. And, the sun is beating down and heat is starting to rise from the pavement. I’m feeling some sunburn kicking in and my arms are chafed, having sweated off all my body glide. I’m thankful for my sunglasses and my dew rag.
I don’t remember much about the finish other than suddenly I was there. I pumped my hands overhead for the finish line photo and then punched my GPS. 3:58:03 on the overhead clock, 3:57:20 on the GPS (which would later be adjusted somehow by my chip to a 3:57:11) Under four hours after all, meaning that I had knocked a rousing 8 ½ minutes off my second half, coming alive in a really big way. Yeah man!
Went down the long finish chute, collecting a bottle of water and at the corner were the finishers medals, which some very young and cute volunteers were handing to the runners. I asked my volunteer to “install” mine for me and she giggled and complied, hanging it around my neck and congratulating me. I almost overbalanced at the weight of it – the medal was a thick multi colored disc, weighing about a pound an a half. Nice finishers medal!
Staggering under the weight of my finishers swag, I wandered back to the finish line to see if Mark was somewhere behind me and had a mini Marathon Maniacs reunion with Silver and another Maniac. We compared notes, congratulated each other and finally meandered through to the rest of the finish chutes.
Not seeing Mark, I decided to go to Plan B and rendezvous later with him at the Reunion area. I passed the Medal girls again, collected a mylar blanket (what the heck?) and fetched up against a long line of people around the corner. Realizing that this was the Finishers Photo line, I bypassed it entirely (who needs another $50 sweaty finishers photo?) and headed around a hairpin turn to the Food area. As I passed though into the area, some volunteers were filling a garbage can with Ice. I grabbed a big chunk and began icing down my arms and legs. While I was doing that, I fell into conversation with a cute young girl named Anne from Washington DC who had just turned out her second marathon in a stellar 3:42 or so. We compared notes on the course and she too had recognized the exact moment when the days heat had started kicking in. She was worried about her mother and sister who were over an hour behind. We both agreed that the heat would be a factor
I headed into the food area and was soon laden with everything from heart healthy potato chips a banana, raisins, Larabars, and the best treat of all, a rainbow popsicle. Not being hungry as usual after the race, I wound everything up into my mylar blanket except for the popsicle which I started gnawing on immediately.
Signs were overhead with arrows directing everyone to the Merchandise, the Merchandise, the Merchandise, and Gear check and Family Reunion area. Bypassing the Merchandise, I walked a long way past The Merchandise to the line of UPS trucks way far away. I fell into a conversation with Chris from California, a young surfer dude who was both a Team In Training Coach and worked in a Children’s Oncology center as well. Another 20-something who is changing the world – a great conversation. Collected my gear and made my way through the crowd as I finished my popsicle.
Inside the reunion area was a massive sea of people. The sun was beating down on everyone and the heat was rising. There was a huge Michelob Ultra tent and concession stands with immense lines everywhere, as well as a stellar and tight six member band, belting out some amazing cover tunes – full brass, guitar and bass and possibly the best act I heard all day.
Ascertaining that Mark hadn’t arrived at our Rendevous point (the letter “W”) I checked out the beer lines as we were supposed to be getting a free beer. Realizing that the lines were easily a 45 minute wait, I returned to the “W” and there was Mark, who had finished a little while after me. We made our way back to his SUV and after a typical long half hour Rock and Roll Traffic Tie up, we made our way back to his excellent abode to shower and think about lunch.
Later, we were able to return to Oregano’s North, sit right down, have an EXCELLENT post-race meal and watch the Arizona Cardinals kick butt in a great playoff game upset. Shortly after the win, I got in the Toyota and an hour and forty minutes later was back in Tucson for the next phase of life.
So, I have a HUGE forehead tan line, some sore legs (though not that bad today – Wednesday) a monster finishers medal and Marathon 45 is in the bag. I’ve already signed up for two half marathons and a 10K in the next few months and I’m trying to figure out which ones will get me to 50 by the time I turn 50 in June of 2010. It may have to be some repeats, due to the economic as well as the time considerations, however, as you know – they are all good
So to sum up – the Rock and Roll is a great destination race if you like the big city, Big Merchandise races. I would probably do it again, solely because Brother Mark was such an excellent host and made my stay really Fun and easy. The the course, support, volunteers and timing were all done extremely well. For a January race, there’s no better place to be than the Desert, that’s for sure, and I’m sorry my Midwest Friends (Yes, that’s YOU sister Rhonda – love ya! Also Gregg – sure woulda beat the Freezing Samson Stomp!!!) couldn’t have come to enjoy this sunny warm day.
And, maybe next time I’ll train some.
Or, maybe not…..
Either way, hope to see you all at a race soon!
Thanks again Mark!
Happy 2009 and Happy Inauguration!!!
Staggering under the weight of my finishers swag, I wandered back to the finish line to see if Mark was somewhere behind me and had a mini Marathon Maniacs reunion with Silver and another Maniac. We compared notes, congratulated each other and finally meandered through to the rest of the finish chutes.
Not seeing Mark, I decided to go to Plan B and rendezvous later with him at the Reunion area. I passed the Medal girls again, collected a mylar blanket (what the heck?) and fetched up against a long line of people around the corner. Realizing that this was the Finishers Photo line, I bypassed it entirely (who needs another $50 sweaty finishers photo?) and headed around a hairpin turn to the Food area. As I passed though into the area, some volunteers were filling a garbage can with Ice. I grabbed a big chunk and began icing down my arms and legs. While I was doing that, I fell into conversation with a cute young girl named Anne from Washington DC who had just turned out her second marathon in a stellar 3:42 or so. We compared notes on the course and she too had recognized the exact moment when the days heat had started kicking in. She was worried about her mother and sister who were over an hour behind. We both agreed that the heat would be a factor
I headed into the food area and was soon laden with everything from heart healthy potato chips a banana, raisins, Larabars, and the best treat of all, a rainbow popsicle. Not being hungry as usual after the race, I wound everything up into my mylar blanket except for the popsicle which I started gnawing on immediately.
Signs were overhead with arrows directing everyone to the Merchandise, the Merchandise, the Merchandise, and Gear check and Family Reunion area. Bypassing the Merchandise, I walked a long way past The Merchandise to the line of UPS trucks way far away. I fell into a conversation with Chris from California, a young surfer dude who was both a Team In Training Coach and worked in a Children’s Oncology center as well. Another 20-something who is changing the world – a great conversation. Collected my gear and made my way through the crowd as I finished my popsicle.
Inside the reunion area was a massive sea of people. The sun was beating down on everyone and the heat was rising. There was a huge Michelob Ultra tent and concession stands with immense lines everywhere, as well as a stellar and tight six member band, belting out some amazing cover tunes – full brass, guitar and bass and possibly the best act I heard all day.
Ascertaining that Mark hadn’t arrived at our Rendevous point (the letter “W”) I checked out the beer lines as we were supposed to be getting a free beer. Realizing that the lines were easily a 45 minute wait, I returned to the “W” and there was Mark, who had finished a little while after me. We made our way back to his SUV and after a typical long half hour Rock and Roll Traffic Tie up, we made our way back to his excellent abode to shower and think about lunch.
Later, we were able to return to Oregano’s North, sit right down, have an EXCELLENT post-race meal and watch the Arizona Cardinals kick butt in a great playoff game upset. Shortly after the win, I got in the Toyota and an hour and forty minutes later was back in Tucson for the next phase of life.
So, I have a HUGE forehead tan line, some sore legs (though not that bad today – Wednesday) a monster finishers medal and Marathon 45 is in the bag. I’ve already signed up for two half marathons and a 10K in the next few months and I’m trying to figure out which ones will get me to 50 by the time I turn 50 in June of 2010. It may have to be some repeats, due to the economic as well as the time considerations, however, as you know – they are all good
So to sum up – the Rock and Roll is a great destination race if you like the big city, Big Merchandise races. I would probably do it again, solely because Brother Mark was such an excellent host and made my stay really Fun and easy. The the course, support, volunteers and timing were all done extremely well. For a January race, there’s no better place to be than the Desert, that’s for sure, and I’m sorry my Midwest Friends (Yes, that’s YOU sister Rhonda – love ya! Also Gregg – sure woulda beat the Freezing Samson Stomp!!!) couldn’t have come to enjoy this sunny warm day.
And, maybe next time I’ll train some.
Or, maybe not…..
Either way, hope to see you all at a race soon!
Thanks again Mark!
Happy 2009 and Happy Inauguration!!!
