I made a pretty major change to my lifestyle in March 2004. I bought a 17 foot kayak from Florida Bay Outfitters in Key Largo. This I bought for 2 reasons. First, I wanted one in a BAD way for over 7 years. Secondly, I learned the hard way that I can't run year round without getting some kind of injury (typically in the calves). Kayaking would be my cross training.

 

Kayaking turned out to be the secret weapon for this years race. Not only did it give me more stamina, but it helped me lose a few pounds that I couldn't shake any other way.

 

I also joined the South Florida Striders, a very fast group of runners. I'm probably the youngest person in the group. Regular Saturday morning runs helped me to pick up the pace to help me move to the next level of my training.

 

One last thing I did was to get a massage 4 days before the race from Susan Lapham in Fort Lauderdale (954 830-3864). She fixed me up after last years marathon, when I pulled a calf muscle trying to run 15 miles one week after the marathon.

 

The plan for the 2005 race was simple. Run 26.2 miles at an average pace of nine minutes per mile to get a finishing time under 4 hours. It wasn't totally unrealistic. I had met up with the Miami Runners Club at the expo the day before the race. I signed up to run with the group that was running 3 hours, 45 minutes. I was all set.

 

After getting home and thinking about it, I thought that running with this group was too ambitious of a job. I was shooting for a time about 10 minutes slower than they were running. I talked myself out of running with them. I reasoned that I gather great pleasure out of creating plans and attacking them without outside influences. It's part of my independent thinking. A team player I am not. What can I say? I am who I am.

 

Race day comes. Kathy calls me at 10 PM. I get a very sound 6 hours of sleep and I'm well rested. I head over to the house of my friends Scot and Ali. This is Ali's first half marathon. We're going to be picking up Saemone, this will be her first road race, she's doing the half.

 

It's 4 am and we're driving off headed to the interstate. As Ali is putting her ChampionChip on her shoe, I discover that I forgot my chip. I left it at home. No chip means no time and I didn't train for this not to get a time. I tell Scot to drop me back off at his house. I'll drive home, get the chip, then meet them enroute.

Lesson learned, give yourself plenty of time JUST IN CASE something unforseen happens.

 

We arrive at the race, pay 15 bucks for parking, then head to the restroom to do the ritual elimation job. Ali and Saeomone are excited. Scot is his normal cool and calm self. Does Scot Orman ever get fired up??

 

It's five thirty AM. I jump into the pen. I see 3 guys and a woman from the South Florida Striders. We shoot the crap. Standing next to me I find the 3:45 pace group. I once again change my mind and decide to run with them. 5 minutes later I change my mind again and decide to do this solo. I'm worse than a woman!

 

The gun fires and we are off. Oh crap I have to pee! It takes me 3 miles to find a portapotty. I jump in and take care of business. Now I can concentrate on this race. I'm trying to stay calm and not blow all my energy early.

 

I knock off one 8 minute mile after another. I'm feeling soo good and the pace seems effortless. I should slow down but I feel great. Oh boy I'll pay for this later. Live now, pay later...that's the American way!

 

Around mile 8 I start feeling some friction on my big right toe. A blister is developing. I'm going to need to stop to tape this up. Oh crap I didn't pack any sports tape. I start keeping my eyes open for medical supplies at the water stops.

 

At mile 11, I stop for a gel that I had packed. I needed a kick, but I thought it was too early in the race to be needing this. But if there's one thing that I have learned, it's that my body tells me everything that it needs if I just listen to it.

 

We cruise through downtown, the half marathoners make the left turn to their finish and the marathoners continue on. Half of the race is over and I feel pretty ok.

 

I'm not paying much attention to all the spectators who line the course. I hear them but I can't concentrate on my game when I acknowledge them. But I do appreciate their support. Mile 16 comes and I down a gel. Mmmmmm....fudge.

 

Mile 17 comes up on me. Now I'm really starting to feel this race. The 3:45 pace group creeps up on me and passes me. Amazingly I'm keeping pretty close to them. Finally they head off on the horizon.

 

I take another gel around mile 20. Mmmmmmm....vanilla.

 

Now this is where the race actualy begins. Running up to this point has been relatively easy. l'm running some numbers in my head. My pace up to this point has put me far under the 4 hour mark. I decide not to look at my watch for mile splits. I convince myself that reading slower splits at this stage of the race will be discouraging at this point. I'm going to listen to my body.

 

My body hurts at mile 22 (just like it did the previous year). I'm reduced to moosh once again. My breathing is erratic and I can't focus and keep my breathing steady any more. I stop to catch my breath. My legs are burning. I tell myself that pain is my friend. A good friend? No!

 

My mind kicks in and I tell myself that I didn't train for 5 months so that I couldn't reach my goal. I will be terribly disappointed if I don't break 4 hours. But at what point does one risk injury (aside from the typical post race muscle soreness)? There's definitely a mechanism in the brain that tells your body to stop forward movement at times like this. I hit the override key. ON TO THE FINISH.

 

At mile 23, I watch a nun yelling at a cop at the entrance to Mercy Hospital. The cop was stopping cars from entering the hospital. It was quite entertaining to watch a woman of the cloth go ballistic. The cop isn't budging an inch. Nobody interferes with the runners.

 

I pass through a water stop. Can't take water now. Must continue on. At mile 24, traffic in the other direction is stopped. People are trying to get across the bridge to Key Biscayne. People are honking endlessly. I'm getting pissed. Yea that's it....anger will keep me motivated. I give the finger to the processional of cars. I'm definitely not going to heaven.

 

More walking, more running. Uggggh a bridge. I'm so spoiled running in Florida. The only elevation that we have down here are bridges. I grew up in Pennsylvania and we had some pretty sizable hills and mountains. I'm getting soft as I get older. Back to the race.

 

Run down the bridge now, head towards Biscayne Bay, and now the finish line is in sight. Legs are really cramping now. Mmmm pain. I see that I'm well within 4 hours. I'm ecstatic. Hundreds of people are yelling at the finish area. I cross the finish line and throw my arms high in the air.

 

3 hours, 55 minutes, 0 seconds!

 

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!