Professor Boz: 70.3

Boz: Frustrated with myself for missing Nick at the transition area, I hustled back to my car and started driving along the running course, trying to spot him among the throng of runners. While I didn’t immediately find him, I did spot a number of interesting things. I saw runners “investigating” the pine trees that lined the course. I saw several runners battling with leg cramps and couldn’t imagine the torture they would be facing over the final 10 miles. I also saw large chairs for sale in someone’s front yard, and thought that they could have made a nice profit if they instead offered to rent them out for five minutes at a time. Finally, I saw the leader making his way back on the out-and-back course to finish in a time of just over 4 hours – I personally think out-and-back courses are kind of cruel that way as some runners were barely beginning a half marathon while watching someone else finish.

At this point, I began to get a little annoyed with Nick and blame him for not being more visible. Why couldn’t he wear a nice bright pink shirt, instead of a black sleeveless shirt like 50% of the other runners? Well, at least, I remember him telling me that he had switched to running with a forefront strike, so I figured I could just look for a black-shirted guy doing that. But, I quickly realized I have no clue what a forefront strike is. So, I decided to simply proceed to the mile 5 water stop and just wait for him.

While hanging out near the volunteers, I noticed that a young boy was obsessed with spraying runners with a garden hose. He called out to me and said, “Mister, may I spray you?” I would have loved a cool down on this 85 degree day and the water would have nicely disguised my sweat. However, , I envisioned how my wife would react if told her that her camera was ruined because I was hot. So, I politely declined his good offer.

This water stop was on the narrow shoulder of a two lane road, and as mentioned previously, this was an out and back race, meaning runners were coming from both directions. I was just waiting for two runners to collide and fall into oncoming traffic as they were grabbing a cup of water. My wife’s camera and I were ready were ready to capture the upcoming tragedy.

My gaze shifted from the transition area just in time to see Nick come into view.

Nick: My first mile was painful. As planned, I walked through the water station at mile 1 and added ice and water to my bottle. My feet were still numb and the sun had come out. I had a running hat on but it was simply trapping heat against my head, so I took it off and shoved it in the back of my shirt. I doused my head with ice water, which helped, and took off again.

Although I felt like I was crawling, I was surprisingly holding about an 8:00 pace. When I reached the 2^nd mile marker, I saw the first runner on his way back to the finish. He was cruising, and actually smiling huge. There were no other runners in sight so he won by a long shot at what I estimated as a sub-4 hour time. That gave me a little boost of motivation so I pushed on with my pace…for about a half mile, when I had to again stop to walk. I was about 21 minutes into the run and I felt miserable. I checked my watch, and my heart rate had spiked up to 180 beats per minute. That’s my peak rate, and I can’t sustain that effort for more than a mile on my normal training runs. I instantly decided that any time goals were out of the question and I just had to try to finish the thing.

I was sweating bullets and craving food, so I ate another gel from my belt pocket and walked for about 4 minutes. It was oddly refreshing to get that junk in my stomach and my heart rate dropped back down to a more comfortable level, so I tried to run again. Within a minute, it was back up to 170. I held the pace for about another half mile then walked again. I was toast.

Boz: Nick ran into the mile 5 water stop, and I quickly rushed up to ask him how he was doing. Given that he had killed the first two segments, I expected him to flash me a thumbs up sign and dash off. But instead, he seemed content to walk with me for a bit. He eventually replied to my question by saying, “I’m spent. I shouldn’t have gone so fast on the bike. My wind is fine, my legs are fine; it is just that my heart rate skyrockets to 180 every time I start running.”

He pulled a hat out of his the back of his shorts and asked if I would take it. I felt honored, kind of like when Mean Joe Greene tossed his sweaty jersey to a kid in the famous 1979 Coca-Cola commercial. The hat was fully soaked, kind of like my t-shirt by this point. Before he began running again, Nick showing surprising interest in me by asking, “So how are you doing? You have been all over the place today!” I assured him that I was doing just fine, figuring it was taboo to bring up how badly my inner thighs were chafing.

Nick: I walked through another water stop at mile 3.5 and took off again, with the goal of making it to the mile 5 water stop. I made it to about mile 4.5 and then had the sudden feeling that my bladder was about to explode. I could see the mile 5 water station in the distance but imagined a big line at the porta potty. I found a nice tree down in the ditch and hopped down there the best I could to make a urea donation. The good news was that I appeared to be well hydrated.

I trudged back up on the road and ran to the mile 5 mile water station where I found Boz on the side of the road waiting for me, tape recorder in hand. I answered his questions, engaged in small talk and non-verbally invited him for a walk with me well after the water station. Before taking off, I asked him a favor. I can only imagine what he was thinking as I reached back and started to reach into my clothes. I handed him my sweaty hat and ask if he’ll carry it the rest of the way for me. He gladly accepted my sweaty souvenir and we parted ways.

Boz: “Wow, I’m sure,” replied Jodi, when I texted her that Nick was feeling pretty rough at Mile 5. “I’m hoping to get some Johnnie Bread on your campus.” I imagine Nick would have also liked about 2 loaves of the stuff at this point.

I drove up to the mile 7.3 water stop and waited for Nick. It was kind of fun to watch people approach the water stop and treat it like a fast food restaurant, calling out as they approached “Two waters!” “Gatorade!” “Ice!”

When Nick arrived and slowed to walk with me again for a bit, the first question I asked him was, “So, you have about 6 miles to go. How does this compare to the same point in marathon?”

“Mentally, this is tougher because it is longer, and physically I am spent, completely empty. But at least I don’t hurt the way I do at the end of a marathon.” He told me how he had kept up an 8 minute per mile pace since he last saw me and then again expressed surprising interest in me while in the middle of his race by asking “How is the book coming along?” What dawned on me at this time is that while athletes usually don’t like to talk or answer questions near the end of a long event, they are happy to hear someone else chatter away – anything to take their mind off the effort required to take another step. So, I rambled about my book for a bit until he was ready to run again.

Nick: I’m not sure how far we walked together but it greatly helped my mood and spirits, and my heart rate was down in the 120’s. I took off again and held a good comfortable pace for about 2.5 miles. I walked briefly through the 6.25 mile water stop, which also doubled as the 7.5 mile water stop on the way back. I saw Boz’s car on the other side of the road as I went through it the first time and refilled my water bottle with ice and water. Then on the second time through I stopped to walk with him a bit. I felt decent during that last stretch but now that I was walking again it felt so, so good to just keep walking. Boz and I finished our conversation and I attempted to run. I couldn’t have made it another quarter mile or so before I was walking again.

Boz: “The Abbey bells are ringing for him!” Jodi replied when I texted her to say that Nick was looking better with 6 miles to go. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the bells ring every 15 minutes, even when Nick is not running triathlons.

I drove up mile10.7, which was also mile 2.4 for those on the “out” portion of the run. It really was a tale of two races at this point, with those at 10.7 smelling the finish and those at 2.4 dreading what was to come. To give the runners a boost, I blared Rocky music out of the trunk of my Chevy Impala. If you want to feel valuable, head out to a race with “Gonna Fly Now” and “Eye of Tiger” on your I-pod. Everyone will love you and you may even get a comment like I did from one runner, “I just want to shake the hand and say thank you to the man who saved my life.”

I was checking my watch and observed that Nick’s pace seems to have slowed considerably. I was worried. And as each minute passed and it seemed impossible that he would be taking this long, I worried even more. Perhaps he took a short cut? No he wouldn’t do that. Maybe he collapsed, and I will be the one in charge of telling his wife and three young children.

Finally, I saw Nick coming in the distance and he raised his hands above his head when he heard the music. I asked him if he had any final comments before I saw him at the finish line, “This sucks.”

I asked him if he wanted me to jog with him to the curb, not wanting to slow him down, and he laughed heartily and somewhat eerily, almost as if I had just asked him if I could eat his first born

I said, “Okay. I guess you are good walking for a bit.”

Nick replied, “Now it hurts. Now it is marathon pain. All I can think now is that I need to focus. I think I quit sweating.” I wanted to offer him some of my sweat, as I had more than enough for both of us, but decided against it.

“Yeah, not too much left now, though” I said, and then realized that I spoke too soon. Relief doesn’t really come until you have less than one mile to go. The next mile and a half were going to be very, very tough on Nick.

As he soldiered onward, I called out, “See you at the finish buddy!” even though it may have been more appropriate to phrase it as a question instead of a statement.

Nick: The sun was now directly overhead and shining down on my back. It was just plain hot, and I could feel the heat radiating from the blacktop onto my cheeks. I doused my head with ice water and could feel it heat up as it streamed down my back. I walked for a bit over a mile, and then tried to run again. I got through another mile at about a 9:30 pace. I slowed to walk yet again and ate my last gel. At this point a few other guys and I start to leap frog each other, alternating turns walking and running. We’re all doing the same thing: running for a couple minutes, walking for a few minutes.

I spotted Boz’s car again just around the street corner ahead. As his windows rolled down, I could hear the Rocky music loud and strong. I attempted to mimic Rocky and run towards him with my hands in the air, but didn’t make it very far. He met me and I gladly walked again. I now told him that this was as close as I can remember to the feeling of mile 23 of a marathon.

But the difference that I couldn’t express at the time was that I was actually more tired than sore. I still hurt, but it was mainly my knees and feet. During a marathon, my whole body would hurt. My back, my shoulders, my neck. Everything. The pounding of the marathon definitely hurt worse.

I was also overheating and couldn’t drink enough water. I brought a 750 mL water bottle with me on the run, and I’d refilled it 4 times already. I was occasionally squirting water over my head and back, but over half of it was definitely entering my body.

We walked together for about a block before we parted ways. But this time, I didn’t even pretend to try to and start running again. A few moments later, Boz buzzed by with Rocky still blaring. I gave a fist pump and just kept walking, hoping I had enough left to make it the final 2.4 miles.

Next Up: The Finish?

Part VII may be found here: http://professorboz.blogspot.com/2012/08/703-part-vii.html

The chairs that should have been advertised for rent instead of for sale.

I am sure there is a reason for this type of apparel, I just don’t know what it is. I also wonder how much time he lost due to the drag of his beard.

I never thought I would refer to Nick as a sight for sore eyes, but after not seeing him for an hour, this was good.

As my wife can attest to, I have trouble drinking water without spilling when I am just sitting in a chair. Here we see Nick carrying 2 glasses of water and dumping them into his water bottle, while running.

Feeling the pain.

Back up the hill, where you can see the out-and-back effect and how people had to jog into the road as a result.

This guy ran with an unusual open hat so that he could have a bag of ice directly on his head! I mentally referred to him as Ice Hat Dude whenever I saw him.