The tarsnake of a marathon is that there are so many opportunities make mistakes.

A week before the Twin Cities Marathon, it hit me that I really hadn’t gotten in as many long runs as I’d like. The fall racing season had gone fairly well. 32:00 for 10k. A 14:57 5K.  So the sharpness was there, and I’d raced a 10-miler in 54:00 which told me there was a decent endurance base. But my eagerness to race a really great marathon made me decide to get in one more long run. That’s the tarsnake of doubt creeping in.

It was a cool, damp morning in late September. I choose a course that went 10 miles north up one side of the Fox River and 10 miles back home the other. Uphill, then downhill, but only with an elevation of about 400 feet. So no big hills. Just steady running.

Starting slow

Feeling a little stale at the start, I began at 8:00 pace and kept that up for 5 miles or so. A slight mist blew and then faded. But my legs still didn’t feel sharp. At 10 miles a sluggishness set in that would not leave.

By 15 miles I knew there was trouble brewing. My feet started to scuffle the path on which I was running. Energy dropped even after a long drink at a park fountain. I didn’t feel like keeping on.

Uh oh

But I did, and hit a mini-wall at 18 miles. The last 2 miles home were painful and slow. I jumped in the shower and ate as much as I could for the next 2 hours. My body weight was down under 140. Regular weight, 142. Heart rate was up. Legs ached.

The next day I did not run at all. Just went for a walk. Same with the day after. Slowly some energy came back into my legs and it looked like the marathon that coming weekend would be possible after all. The week had been weak and harrowing, but my body felt like it rebounded after all.

Getting psyched

On the plane to the race I was tired, sleepy and lethargic. Yet when I got to the friend’s house where I would stay, a nice feeling of anticipation swept over me. The legs got some snap back. We went for a three-miler together, my former college roommate and me. “Get psyched Cud. You look fit,” he told me.

I felt fit. So fit in fact that I lined up in the front line of the race. Looking around I could see the previous year’s winner and a whole stock of fit looking marathoners. I was determined to be among them. At least in the top 50 in the race.

Chilly predictions

The temperature was 29 degrees at the start. Not wanting to overheat, I wore a red tee shirt under a singlet, shorts and a set of cotton gloves.

The lead pack took off at 5:00 pace. I ran the first mile in 5:30, my prescribed pace, and kept an eye out for other runners in my pace. Soon enough a group sidled by with a tall, lean runner at the front. It was Olympian Don Kardong and a group of 8-10 other runners.

Running jokes

The breeze off the lakes was brisk, and cold, and I could feel it stiffening the muscles in my thighs and chilling my forearms as I swung in behind the group. There was a lively chatter that Kardong kept up mile after mile. This was easy pace for him. The other guys seemed pretty fit. We passed knots of fans and laughed because their cheers went up and faded quickly, just like groups of people in the cartoon George of the Jungle. I mentioned that fact, trying to see if Kardong would get the joke. He chuckled but not recognizing me as a part of the group, he kept his attention on the cadre of runners with him.

At 10 miles passed in just over 56:00, I knew the pace was quick enough. Another 10 at that pace meant would put me in a zone to run sub-2:30.

Core chill

But then the cold really began to set in. Every time we went around a lake, the breeze off the water was so brisk and chilling I could feel it all the way into my core. At 12 miles my fingers felt numb. At 14 my lips were turning blue. Another friend was waiting at the 25K point and jumped out on the course to pull me off. The time was 1:25: 50. But I was frozen stiff. Couldn’t talk. Tongue was thick and purplish. The race was over. Frozen out.

“Come with me,” my friend said. “Let’s get you in the car.”

10 minutes later I felt fine and unfrozen. Wanting to jump back out on the course. But my friend wisely grabbed my arm and said, “You’re done today. Give it a rest. There’s always another race.”

Perhaps you recognize a bit of yourself in a race like this?  But it’s an interesting question: How many mistakes did I make leading up to and during the Twin Cities Marathon?

So you play the coach and sum them up. It will be interesting to hear your take, especially from experienced marathoners.