Lower Potomac River Marathon

The first thing I did at 4:45 a.m. was look out the window.

It was still dark, but I could see it was overcast and cloudy but, thankfully, there was no rain.  

The temperature was hovering around 40 and I spent a lot of time changing in and out of my running tights and switching hats.  As the morning progressed, I put on my shorts - in the parking lot of the Paul Hall Center in Piney Point, Md., about 10 minutes before this charming and friendly little marathon began on its grounds.

It turned out to be a smart move.  But then, everything I did at this race seemed to be a smart move.  While not my fastest, the Lower Potomac River Marathon may very well be my smartest race ever.

The first half of the race was the scenic portion.  Driven partially by my desire to take in the sights and partially to save my energy for the hilly second half, I took the first few miles slowly.  Don't go out too fast, was advice I was given before my first marathon and always had trouble heeding.  Not this time.

After clocking a 7:40 first mile while chit-chatting with mid-packers, I picked it up in the next few, staying around 7:20.  I used the "virtual pacer" feature on my Garmin GPS and it kept me in check.

The terrain was flat, the weather was perfect, and I chugged along comfortably, letting Mr. Garmin tell me I was behind pace (set to 7:15) every so often.  Sometime around Mile 7, I was on auto pilot and cruised perfectly in the target range.  

The first half was a series of out-and-back legs at three points on and near St. George Island - the end of Piney Point Road and back, then to the entrance of Camp Merryelande and back, then to Piney Point Lighthouse and back.  By the time I hit the halfway point, I was on track to meet my 3:11 goal.

But there was a problem.  With each successive mile, my Garmin beeped before I hit the marker; and each time, it happened farther and farther away.  So while the official clock at 13.1 showed 1:35:45, my watch told me I hit the halfway point more than a minute before that.  Which one was correct?  I believe the Garmin was, but more about that in my next post.

After the halfway point, I made my next smart decision - time to stop running and start racing.  The second half was simply another out and back, but on Route 249, a main road that was not closed to traffic.  Nothing to see here, so time to set the gearshift...

The long, steady uphills between Miles 15 to 19 were not incredibly steep, but proved to be difficult as a strong headwind started pushing against me.  But, as I always say, hills are where I make my move and I was not about to let 11 mph winds stop me from overtaking at least four runners, all of whom seemed surprised to see me doing so.

A bit spent at the top of the hilly portion which was also the turnaround point, the wind was at my back as I cruised downhill. This helped me push the pace ever so slightly simply by extending my leg turnover.  This smart move helped me regain some time lost on the uphills and also regain some strength for the final 10K.

On this last, flat, final segment, fatigue was setting in.  But it was not "the wall".  By now, I know the difference, so I knew it was OK to dig deep.  At some points, the Garmin told me I was ahead of the set 7:15 pace, but as I made my way into the last 5K, I occasionally slipped behind pace, despite the feeling in my legs that told me I was moving faster.

In the 26th mile, the usual spots were hurting.  My left hamstring and Achilles tendon, my right groin and trapezius.  But pain is not a factor in the last mile of a marathon, especially if I have not hit the wall by then.  The only thing to do is push.  Harder.

My Garmin showed 26.2 miles long before I rounded the final turn into the last 400 meters, clocking me at a 3:09:12 marathon.  When I hit the finish line, feeling strong and triumphant despite the nagging discrepancy, the clock showed 3:10:45.  Either way, my fourth best marathon ever.

When I set my goal in January, I decided against shooting for a PR and went with a smarter and more modest 3:11.  

Despite the harsh winter, I trained smartly, doing the best I could in the uncontrollable elements.  

Saturday night, I wisely controlled my tendency to overeat and had a smart and reasonable dinner.  

In the first half of the race, I smartly hung back, saving the real racing for the back half.  

It all paid off and I finished feeling great - so great that I spent the next hour and a half cheering the more than 100 people into their own triumphant finishes. And spreading that positive vibe felt like a smart thing to do, too.

Smartest.  Race.  Ever.


Click for official results

Check back soon for my next post to see why the small time discrepancy is a very big deal.