Why? Couldn't tell you.
Maybe it's the fact that my mind kept racing (no pun intended) even after my body had finished. So close. So close.
On a positive note, the cloud of disappointment eventually broke up and a cloud of real, physical pain rolled in. The pain probably relieved the disappointment as it was a sign that I really did push myself.
Anyway, on to the race. It all started perfectly the evening before. I laid my head down around 9.30pm, 15min of visualization and almost right to sleep.
Popped out of bed at 5am, enjoyed a steaming bowl of rice and filet of mackerel before heading back to bed for 40mins. I even fell asleep again!
Up again at 6.10am, quick coffee, shower, double check race kit and bag and out the door at 7.
Our local train was relatively empty with a few others heading downtown to run. Then, we switched to the express. Packed door-to-door with runners. You could feel the energy.
We got to Sannomiya, Kobe's downtown, and it got crazier.
gorgeous morning |
Natsuko and I had to split just after reaching Sannomiya because we were starting from different areas, so we said our good-byes, and began the race experience.
As most things in Japan, the organization was great. Plenty of signs to get to your starting area, find where to check your bag and even marked off areas for people to warm up.
bag check |
I checked my bag around 8, went for a 10min warm-up jog and then my final bathroom break. One problem, the lines for the toilets were insane.
For a moment, I stood in a line of at least 100 people waiting to use one of 3 toilets. Thankfully, a volunteer came over and told us there were shorter lines a few hundred meters away. Okay, more warm-up jog.
Promptly at 8.45, I got into my corral and moved as close to the front as I could. Nibbling on a banana and sipping on sports drink, those last minutes were agonizing. 'Just stay calm, focus on breathing.'
Finally, bang on 9am, we got a move on. Kind of.
Because of the number of people and the relatively narrow road, the first k was REALLY slow. Stop, start, stop, start.
My watch beeped, 5.27 first k, seriously! 'Don't panic, you knew this was coming, just ease into it.'
Second k, 4.30. 'This is ridiculous, 2 k in and already 1.20 off the pace!' I continued to breathe deep and remind myself that a good friend who ran this a couple years ago warned me about this.
Not long after, I saw a friendly face. A buddy from work, Gary, stood on the the sidelines shouting encouragement with a beaming smile. Not sure if he knows it, but that was a huge boost. Thanks!
From then, I was on pace, even a little below.
K by k, I was pulling back time, but I had to step in, 'you can't make it all up at once. Stick to your pace, and if you've got it at the end, make it up then.'
And on we went.
Out past Nagata and Tetsujin 28-go, through Suma and out to the Akashi bridge.
Kobe Marathon map, www.kobe-marathon.net |
Tetsujin 28-go, pic from madebysix.wordpress.com |
The course is pretty flat, a LITTLE rolling from 9 to 26km but nothing that threw me too much off pace. The flat k's were just under 4.20 while the slightly up k's were just over.
Kobe Marathon topography, www.kobe-marathon.net |
Halfway came at just over 1.32, a little above my target of 1.31.30 meaning I had pulled back nearly a whole minute from my slow start.
As promised, it was time to decide which goal time to go for. The first half had come and gone so quickly. I took a quick survey, 'still able to breathe comfortably through my nose, left leg giving a bit but generally feels strong, eating, drinking and salt tabs on course and mentally with it.'
Okay, stretch goal time it is.
Funnily enough, not too long after this decision, the first half started to creep up on me. I focused on my mantras and breathing, and it went away. It was off and on, but I was able to keep the negativity at bay more or less.
Then, somewhere around 30k, another friendly face! My Japanese teacher appeared just where she said she would. Thanks so much!
Around 32k is where things got interesting.
My pace was 4.24per k, exactly what I needed to go 3.04.59. With 10k to go and 30 meters of climbing over 2k to top the bridge, I decided to push the gas.
In races, I often think of my level of effort as driving a car. Specifically, how hard you push the gas pedal. The further into the race you go, the harder you have to push the gas to keep the same pace. Hence, why I decided to push the gas.
Battling more mental ups and downs, and the beginning of a side-stitch, I roughly held the 4.24 per k.
pic from JanneM on www.flickr.com |
Just after 35k, came the point I was waiting for. I had specifically trained for. I had spent time visualizing. The bridge climb.
'Short quick turnover, breathe smoothly, don't try to catch anyone, just keep it steady.'
That's what I did, and it worked. Two folks that I had been running behind for a long time unable to catch, slowly came back to me. I was feeling physically rough, but mentally good. I stayed as tight to the wall as possible to avoid the beaming sun.
To my surprise, there were volunteers cheering the whole 3k up and over the bridge. There was also a parking structure close to the bridge where a group of enthusiasts were making a crazy amount of noise. I'll get to the experience later, but needless to say, the support was incredible.
I came screaming down the opposite side of the bridge trying to maintain control so as not to push myself too much, but that's exactly what happened.
With the bridge only a few hundred meters behind me, my worst nightmare. The side-stitch hit hard. The pain, agonizing.
I managed a few hundred more meters before I relented to a walk. 'Just for a bit. Deep breaths, hold your side and it'll recede enough to get moving again.'
Jog again and it worsened. Again and again and again. As I walked past the screaming supporters, with my goal time slipping right through my fingers, I couldn't believe it.
With 2k to go, 'alright, embrace the suck, you gotta wanna hurt.' I told myself and started a light jog.
There was a gurgling in my stomach, I thought the Sports Yokan were coming back up and was almost encouraging it think it may help.
'Jog to the next corner. Jog to the next light. Jog to the next cone.' One landmark at a time before we rounded the corner for home. Two things hit me, a slight let up in the pain and a light-headed dizziness.
Jogging one street lamp to the next, I finally got there.
pic from thomsontimes.com okay, the pic is 2011, but the finish was the same |
Initial feeling: dizziness
After 20mins: exhaustion
45mins: excitement to watch Natsuko
2hrs: mix, extreme hunger and stomach pain
3hrs: disappointment and hunger for the next one