Pace Groups (And a Pace Story)

Maybe I don't understand what a pace group is supposed to do...

What I gathered from everything that I read about pace groups is that they were supposed to keep a consistant pace throughout the race. Obviously this is VERY difficult to do. I mean, I can understand falling a little off pace in this process. But when I ran in Chicago, we had five paceleaders for the 4:45 group. They all had their little Garmins beeping the whole time and were obsessive about hitting our EXACT pace on every mile.

For the Flying Pig, Bill and I started out with the 4:30 pace group, with the idea that after we split (around mile 9), we would both pick up the pace (for him to run a 2:12 and for me to finish with a 4:22). I thought I would be okay, because most of my training runs I was doing a 9 minute pace. In fact, on my last two long runs it was almost agony to keep a 10 minute pace. So I thought a goal pace of 10:18 would give me a nice finish time.

We started our first mile at 10:15. I was super impressed because there was a lot of crowd to navigate around. The paceleader was great, monitoring our breathing, giving us tips on running up the hill, etc. He had paced 15 marathons before and lives in San Diego, where there are LOTS of hills to train on. So I felt comfortable with him, like he knew what he was doing.

The next mile was 9:07. Okay? A little fast. Especially since we walked through a water stop. But maybe the strategy was to save it for the hills?

Mile 3 = 10:53
Mile 4 = 9:45
Mile 5 = 10:13
Mile 6 = 9:48

When they stopped for water I decided to ditch them. I mentally needed to get up the 4 mile gradual climb and the worst part of the marathon was coming up. I was already starting to feel a little tired (and probably a little antsy since our pace was all over the place). I decided to take it nice and super easy and logged an 11:22 for my next mile. I thought this was okay since we obviously had made up some time in the pace group. I wasn't too worried.

The next mile was 10:53, but the weird thing was that I was AHEAD of the pace group at this point. This was actually the mile that I slowed down to catch up with them again. I figured the paceleader knew best what he was doing.

I felt better running with them because our next mile was 10:12 (only 6 seconds fast). Then 10:07.

Mile 11 = 9:38 and I was starting to get pissed off because my arms were hurting which was slowing me down. I also didn't feel so great in my stomach (which probably had nothing to do with my pacing). I was feeling tired though.

Mile 12 = 10:01
Mile 13 = 10:06
Mile 14 = 10:29

This is where I started to ditch the pace group again. I KNEW that I could pace myself. I had done it a million times, keeping a 10 minute mile the whole way and only ending about 30 seconds off pace. I was feeling like CRAP and had to slow down.
So I logged a 10:52 and for the next two split the difference between 21:38 (I forgot to hit my watch on mile 16).

I was DYING and had no energy.

This is when my times really fell off.

Mile 18 = 12:32

This was not good. However, I knew the 4:45 group was behind me. So I revised my Plan C goal from "just finishing" to "finishing with my Chicago goal time: 4:45".

Mile 19 = 12:02

I was pissed off at myself and willed myself to pick up the pace.

Mile 20 = 11:27
Mile 21 = 11:42
Mile 22 = 11:03
Mile 23 = 13:12

BUT this is where I stopped at the Port-o-let. I had to pee since the 9th mile and was trying to hold it in all this time. I couldn't take it anymore and decided to stop. Well, I guess after waiting that long I couldn't go. I was like "come on, come on, come on". I was watching my watch the whole time. That little trip cost me 2 minutes. (Sorry if that was TMI).

Mile 24 = 12:16 (I was making goal points for myself at this point. "Just make it to that red house and then you can walk a little". Well, let's just say I walked a lot during that mile).

Mile 25 = 14:29 (Ouch!)"OK" I told myself, "NO MORE WALKING!"

Mile 26.2 = 12:41

I THINK the extra .25 was added around mile 22. But I'm not sure.

At any rate, I was just glad to finish. My knees hurt more than they ever have before. My friends near the finish line said I looked "pissed off". I smiled at the end because I knew there would be pictures taken. :)

But I must have looked really bad because volunteers kept asking me if I was ok. Really? For real?

I saw people walking around with ice cream. Brilliant! Calcium, protein, fat, yummy...just what I needed. I ambled to the end and was draped with a blanket, a towel and a medal. (That was cool. They usually just hand them to you).

I saw my parents and Bill and went over to the grass to get rid of my lactic acid. It took Bill, my mom AND my dad to help me to the ground. I am including the picture because it is funny. But I look extremely gross in it. So then I will end with a cute picture of me and all of my friends so that you can get that scary picture out of your mind. :)