The Race

Officially, the race was on, but I had heard way too many people tell me that one of the most common mistakes for novice runners was to start off too fast. This apparently was no problem for Jen, who looked back for a second at the start then disappeared into the crowd. I, however, started jogging slowly up the Vegas Strip. For the first four miles almost everybody was passing me. I passed walkers, but no one else. I was concentrating on breathing; looking at other runners; looking at the resorts and casinos along the route; just taking it all in. In about 15 minutes I was at Paris and the Bellagio and caught part of the dancing waters show.  At about this point, the race leaders started passing us on the other side of the Strip heading toward the finish line. First the marathon leader, then the ½ marathon wheelchair leaders passed us in a blink. All of us who were just starting our race cheered them on.

A few minutes later, I ran past the “Run Thru Wedding Ceremony” at the volcano at the Mirage. I was still going at a very leisurely pace, holding on to my sweatshirt, letting people pass me; waiting to hand it off to one of the coaches at mile four. The course continued to be very congested. My intention was to wait until I got some elbow room before I started my race pace. I passed Circus Circus. Melissa and I spent the night there more than 12 years ago on our way to Los Angeles. It was our first time in Vegas. I’ll always remember Circus Circus.

At the Stratosphere, I handed off my sweatshirt to a coach and checked my time. I had run four miles and was on an 11:30 pace. That was really slow – even for me. I decided that I couldn’t wait for traffic to clear, so I began pushing my pace. Passing the Stratosphere we left behind the excitement of the Strip, where there were many distractions. The next five miles wound through the dimly lit streets of North Las Vegas. We did pass a couple band stages, but there were few people cheering.

However, it was in this section that I saw my favorite sign of the day – “Most boring parade EVER.” I might have felt the same way standing on the sidewalk. For moments along this part of the race, the only noise I heard was the thumping of sneakers on the asphalt and the breathing of the runners beside me. But from my perspective as a runner, the rhythm of the race energized me.

At this point I was passing more people than were passing me and I felt pretty good. I was moving faster now, but still was averaging 11 minutes per mile. I wanted to go faster, but was still afraid to burn out too early. Around mile eight a woman with a racing number that suggested she’d started a couple of corrals behind me passed me going at a pretty good clip – slightly faster than me. She looked like a runner. I had found my rabbit. I locked in on her and started chasing. The course was still pretty crowded and it was hard to keep up with her – not because of her pace, but because we were both weaving around slower runners. At times, I’d get blocked in, have to move laterally across the wave of runners to find another opening and then race to catch up with her again.

I only played this game for about a mile. I was close on her heels when she stopped at the water station around mile nine. That was disappointing. I grabbed a cup of water and kept going. I was in a running rhythm now did my best to stay with it. I began to imagine that she was now chasing me.

Before I knew it, I was passing mile 10. Many people had told me about mile 10. They said that once you make it to mile 10, you’re fine, you know you can make it. Thinking about this I smiled and looked at my time. I was now running under a 10 minute mile. Very few people were passing me at this point. I was feeling pretty good.

Then she passed me again. My rabbit had caught up with me again. This time she had another dog on her heels. I locked in behind them and began the last 2.5 miles down the Strip. My rabbit now seemed faster than before. It may have been because she got faster or because I was getting more tired. Either way it was hard to keep up with her. I kept her in my sights until about mile 12. I had been building speed throughout the race, but I had finally reached my limit. I couldn’t go faster. It didn’t help that for half a mile I had heard fans along the course saying there was one more mile to go. Now with a mile to go for real I eased up just a bit so that I could still finish strong.

That last mile seemed to last forever. I could see Mandalay Bay for a long time. Then, what I thought was the finish line was only a banner directing runners into the final couple turns into the parking lot which would lead to the actual finish line. Just before I turned off the street, I heard, “Jimmy!!” My friends Dieu and Lori-Beth were up against the fence cheering me on. I raised my hands, let out a whoop and headed for the finish. The final few yards were more crowded than ever as we funneled to the finish line. But I remembered another piece of advice from the coaches and raised my arms at the finish. I did it! Half marathon complete; 13.1 miles – Check!

Some statistics:

I finished in 2:17:25; 11,851^st out of about 38,000 entrants and 33,200 finishers in the half marathon. I also finished 1,133 out of 2,173 in my division (men 40-44). Middle of the pack on both counts, but for my first attempt, I’m extremely satisfied.

The stat I’m most proud of is this: Based on the splits taken by the race organizers from the chip attached to my sneaker I ran the first 3.1 miles at an 11:37 pace; the next 3.1 miles at a 10:45 pace; the next 3.8 miles at a 10:01 pace; and the final 3.1 miles at a 9:40 pace! Even though, I started off especially slowly, I got faster throughout the entire race and finished strong.

I started this journey four months ago with the intention to honor Melissa, raise some money, and increase my fitness level. Mission accomplished. I’ve really enjoyed the training and the running. I hope to continue it.

Pre-race Prep

Luckily, the race was Sunday evening, so I was able to get a good night’s sleep and had a lot of time to kill before starting race prep. I joined friend and fellow half marthoner, Jen, her dad and two close friends, Dieu and Lori-Beth for brunch at Paris and filled up once again – four large meals in a 24-hour span. This was my last planned meal before running, but once I left the buffet, I was thinking that maybe I had over done it. The walk back to Mandalay Bay was about a mile, so that got the digestion going. I returned to the room with the intention of resting, maybe even napping, but I was full of nervous energy and ended up puttering around until it was time to get dressed.

The first order of business was to prepare my race singlet: race bib with my participant number pinned to the front – Check; my name and Melissa’s code name in large, colorful, block letters stuck to the back – Check; third draft of mini bib honoring Melissa pinned to the back – Check.

Our team met in the lobby at 4:00 for a team picture and pep talk.

The plan was to wait in the warm lobby until it was time to line up for the race, but I couldn’t do that. The party was outside. I wanted to get a lay of the land, take in the atmosphere and watch the Cheap Trick concert playing outside the hotel. It was cold out there. I was glad I’d brought a sweat shirt to shed at the start line. Without it I would be shivering. I recoiled my fingers inside my sleeves and started looking for the stage. I could hear Cheap Trick, but there were speakers everywhere, so I couldn’t tell where they were. I walked toward the start line, where I found two tigers on watch – only in Vegas, right?

I eventually found Cheap Trick and rocked out with them until it was time to line up for the race.

I joined fellow teammates in corral 17 waiting for the 5:30 start. We counted down the start and off they went! Corral 1 took off down the strip. Those of us in Corral 17 didn’t budge. But after a few more count downs we started inching our way forward, counting down the groups in front of us. By this time my heart was starting to pump a little faster. The sun was down; the lights were bright; the band was playing; I was shoulder to shoulder with other runners in a sea of people slowly moving toward the start line.

Twenty minutes later, we got our own countdown. I shed my sweatshirt and the race was on!

Success!!

What a thrill to have run the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas ½ Marathon for the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America! The whole weekend was great and was capped off Sunday night, December 4^th, when I joined 44,000 others for the race under the bright, shining lights of the Las Vegas Strip. The short story is: I finished with my personal best time in a half marathon – J it was my first – and loved the whole experience. The long story is. . .

Vegas has its own, unique energy, always, but this weekend was different – not only for me but for the city. Waiting in line at the airport for a shuttle to Mandalay Bay I noticed a sign that said,  “Plan ahead. Expect delays Sunday, December 4^th. Road closures. . .”

“Crap!” I thought, “of all weekends. . . what’s going on?”

Then I finished reading the sign.

They were going to close the roads for me! – and 44,000 others.

Everywhere I went I found runners or people talking about the race. The local news even featured the race-time weather forecasts. It was a perfect atmosphere to mentally prep for the race. It seemed that everybody was there for the race. And as a participant, I felt a sense of pride, nervousness, and excitement that kept building throughout the weekend. But I arrived Friday night, so it would be a long wait for the gun to go off Sunday night at 5:30.

Saturday morning our DC Team Challenge scheduled a fun run to warm up the legs and work out the butterflies. We ran ¾ of a mile in 40 degree weather to the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign, took some pictures, and ran back to the hotel.

At the sign we ran into some of the 10, 000 participants in the morning’s Great Santa Run  – about a dozen runners in identical Santa suits.

I thought I might have time to rest a little that day, but I didn’t stop moving until after 9PM. After the run, I went in search of food and found brunch and a dining companion in the form of a fellow runner who was about to dine alone, too. From there I went to the race expo to pick up my packet and walk through the gauntlet of displays of all the race sponsors. That was more tiring and took more time than I anticipated. I was really hungry when I returned to Mandalay Bay. Never mind that I had just eaten brunch four hours before and would be eating at the pre-race pasta dinner in about three. I found a huge plate of baked ziti and took it back to my room where I found a big fruit plate my family had sent me. It was yummy, so I had to eat some of that, too. Before I knew it, it was time to time to head to the “Inspirational Past Dinner.”

The dinner is a tradition for CCFA. All 2,000 participants from Team Challenge chapters around the country are invited to attend. Aside from carb loading, it’s an opportunity to recognize accomplishments during the fund raising campaign and pump up morale for the race. The inspiration started right away. To get to the ballroom, participants walked down the long hallway lined with the coaches and mentors from the 40+ chapters who were clapping, cheering, and congratulating participants for getting this far. A local high school cheerleading squad also cheered us on down the hallway. The hallway was packed, festive and LOUD! I couldn’t help but smile, return high fives, and get pumped up.

Incidentally, at the same time, two doors down from the pasta dinner there was some press event for the premiere of “Michael Jackson: The Immortal World Tour by Cirque du Soleil” opening that night. As we rowdy Team Challenge participants made our way down the hallway as a slow-moving human river, security would part the “waters” to allow VIPs to enter their own ballroom. This link has some pictures of the event and some of the celebrities there. I didn’t see any of those people, but I did see Allison Janney! That was exciting!

Once inside the ballroom, I loaded up on pasta again – making it the third full meal I’d had in a span of 7 hours – uuufff!

The speakers at the dinner included: Mike McCready, Pearl Jam guitarist, Crohn’s patient and fellow half marathon participant; a very well-spoken, 10-year-old, UC patient, who bravely told us about her disease and what this event and CCFA meant to her; and the director of CCFA who thanked us, recognized outstanding fundraising achievements, and highlighted some key areas where the money we raised would go. It was a great way to end the day.

And it did, indeed end my day. Because after a day of running around, I was tired and wanted to make sure I was well rested for the race the following day. I went back to my room and got into bed.

Melissa on my mind

I've spent the last couple days here in L.A. thinking about Melissa. Of course, I'm out here on my way to the 1/2 marathon I'm running in her memory. It's been a very gratifying four months of training and raising funds for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America. I am honored to have been able to raise more than $5,000 that will go toward research that aims to cure these diseases and to programs that support children and adults suffering from them. As long as I knew Melissa, she would say that she wanted  to help make sure that others wouldn't have to go through the pain and anxiety ulcerative colitis caused in her life. She donated to CCFA when she was alive and through the donations of all of her friends and family, she is donating after she has gone.

Melissa's memory is with me every day. Just about everything in our house bears the stamp of a shared memory with melis. Even the things that are indisputably mine and not Melissa's bear the stamp. The set of Warner Brothers character drinking glasses that Carlos, Gina, and I collected when we were kids, sit in the kitchen cabinet and were used more often that the Macadoo's glasses she collected. The pictures I took in the high mountains of Peru and framed in what Melissa thought were terrible color choices for matting have hung on our walls for years. They remind me of the compromises one makes -- we made -- when we intertwined our lives.

These couple examples of things that are indisputably mine and not Melissa's are by far the exception. After 11 years together, just about everything has a story that involves Melissa and me. The "Regulator" was a wedding gift. We tried out the chimes when we first got it, but decided we wanted our time pieces to be silent in the house. It has had a prominent place in all the places we've lived. The martini glasses remind me of the trip to Ireland and our tour of the Waterford Crystal factory. We watched one of the glass blowing artists etch his initials on the base of each glass. The list goes on and on.

Here in L.A., the week before the race, I'm feeling added nostalgia. Maybe it's because these aren't my regular routes anymore. This is still a place we used to be together; where we started our life together. When we left to go back home to Virginia, there was no cancer; no death. Since Melissa died I have been creating new memories in a world without her. I haven't had much time here to make memories post Melissa. Everything is still as it was.

Yesterday I walked down the steep steps at the end of Knob Hill in Redondo Beach and looked at the volleyball court where I used to play. Melissa would ride her bike 12 miles to meet me there. After we were done playing, I'd carry her bike up the stairs and she'd carry the chair I'd brought for her to sit on. I've run past Martha's 22nd Street Grill four times. It's a breakfast place half a block from the sand in Hermosa Beach. It was one of our favorite places to take our visitors. It was part of the standard Bealanoza visitor's package. The package also included a sunset bonfire at Dockwiler Beach. I've driven by there a couple times, too, this week. I look down at the fire pits and think about how much Melissa wanted our visitors to have that experience when visiting us. Visitor prep always included a trip to Ralphs for a bundle of wood, hot dogs, hershey bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers.
 

Two days ago I walked around LMU's campus, where we lived for a couple years. I walked out to the bluff to take in the million dollar view we once had from our apartment. The same walk we took together the last time we came back to L.A. to visit. El Pollo Inka, LAX, our old condo. . . the list goes on and on.

I've done the physical training, but I feel as if in these couple of days I'm filling up my tank of emotional strength that I'll need for the race. At times during training I've used Melissa's image as a motivational tool. When I get tired or feel myself slouching or looking down, I lift my shoulders, look out in front of me and picture Melissa riding her bike, looking back, smiling and encouraging me to keep going. That image always makes me smile and gives me an extra push. Being here has helped to strengthen some of those memories that give the image life. There is no doubt in my mind I'll need that image on Sunday.

Extreme Tapering

Part of a good long distance training program is tapering your workouts toward the end of training to allow your body to rest and recover so it will be ready for the ultimate test. Due to my leg injury I took tapering to an extreme. Since November 11, when I ran 6 miles, I have run a total of six times and 13 miles -- most of that this week. The sharp pain in my glute and foot and the soreness in my quad and calf and shin kept me from doing more.

Other than walking about a mile form the bus to my office every day and jogging up the Rosslyn Metro escalators about twice a week I did no training for an entire week. On November 19 I started easing back into it. I ran one mile, then three days later I ran another mile. I definitely needed the rest, but I was begining to feel that I would get too rusty or stiff if I didn't do more.

This past week I've stepped it up. Thanksgiving morning I ran two miles before heading to Lake Anna for the Bealafeld feast. Then Sunday evening I ran with Team Challenge at Haines Point. The workout was scheduled for one hour, but I just ran one lap -- 3 miles -- and stopped at half an hour. My goal this week has been to stay limber and not push myself. I'll save the pushing for race day.

I left DC early to squeeze in three days in Los Angeles before the Vegas race weekend. I've thoroughly enjoyed the last couple days here in L.A. I've spent some time with friends, soaked in SoCal living and had two fantastic runs. The last two nights I've headed down to the strand -- the running, biking, walking path along the sand that runs from Manahattan Beach to Redondo Beach, passing through Hermosa Beach in between. I ran two short 3 mile runs from 3rd Street in Manhattan Beach to the Hermosa Beach pier and back past 3rd Street to the Manhattan Beach pier. I was treated to two beautiful sunsets on my runs, too.

Hermosa Beach, 11/30

Manhattan Beach 12/1

I love Southern California.

I'm feeling better, but still anxious about the race. Aside from all the other pains I've described above, my  right ankle is constantly sore. I'm cautiously optimistic that I'll be able to run the whole race without doing any permanent damage to my body.

Saturday, November 19th
running time in minutes: 9:48
total distance: 1.1 miles
mile pace: 9:11

Thursday, November 24th
running time in minutes: 20:52
total distance: 2.2 miles
mile pace: 9:37

Sunday, November 27th
running time in minutes: 31:22
total distance: 3.2 miles
mile pace: 9:46

Wednesday, November 30th
running time in minutes: 30:47
total distance: 3.0 miles
mile pace: 10:07

Thursday, December 1st
running time in minutes: 30:04
total distance: 3.0 miles
mile pace: 10:01