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July 25, 2008

San Francisco Marathon Battle Plan

A plan never survives first contact with the enemy
--Military saying

After my difficulties at last year's San Francisco Marathon, I decided early on to think long and hard about this year's race, pick a goal, and devise a pacing plan to reach it. That's usually really not my MO. I like just going into marathons with a vague idea of what kind of speed I'm looking for, then adjust as I feel, or (later) as my body forces me to. The question I always ask is, if you hit your splits exactly, who's to say you couldn't have gone a little faster? Might as well just risk a little, and if you went out too hard, well, so it goes. You're not a robot.

After saying all that, San Francisco is a special case. The adjective I like to use is not hard (though it's not easy), but sneaky. It's sneaky in how the first couple of miles are completely flat. It's sneaky in how the wind and grade just pick up gradually in the second quarter of the race. It's sneaky in how Golden Gate Park is constantly rolling, and full of twists and turns. It's sneaky in how the hills on Haight and through the Mission come at the worst possible time, and in how the scenery becomes drab and depressing when you're running on nothing but willpower late in the race.

Sneaky!

Anyway, for personal satisfaction and, perhaps, for other runners' reference in the future, here's my mile by mile plan. My target is to run a BQ, which I consider a fair standard on this difficult course, so for me this means a time of 3:10, and an average pace of 7:15.11 (yes, I am that exact).

  • Miles 1-4 @ 7:00: Since the marathon instituted wave starts in 2006, there's lots of room at the start. The stretch from the Ferry Building, past Fisherman's Wharf to the Marina is fairly wind-protected, and flat as a pancake. Time to make hay! I figure 7:00 is a good target to shoot for. Only difficulties along this stretch are the little hill that pops up out of nowhere right after the first water stop, and the darn sprinklers that soak everyone on the path towards Aquatic Park.

  • Miles 5 @ 7:05: Now last year, I remember the wind picking up at Crissy Field. My mistake was that although I wanted to allow my pace to drop a little, I kept attaching myself to half-marathon runners to get some cover. Like an idiot, I ended up running a 6:40 mile or something like that. I've got to stay disciplined this year.

  • Miles 6-10 @ 7:25: The second quarter of the race is the toughest, with a climb up to the Golden Gate Bridge, then the bridge itself. It is difficult in terms of grade, wind and even footing, because of the wooden planks that are laid down so runners don't break their feet in the grates. It can also be quite crowded, as there is only one lane each way, with a third lane acting as a buffer to the cars. If you're reading this and you're a first time SF-runner, here's my tip for the bridge: In fog, keep track of the bridge columns (there are only two) and the suspension cable to identify where you are on it. If it's not foggy, look to the east! You'll see Alcatraz Island! On both the inbound and outbound leg, watch out for runners who'll deviate from their "lane" to overtake.

  • Miles 11 @ 6:50: Downhill! In 2005, there was the worst-smelling skunk ever right in the middle of the road. This just popped into my head again...

  • Miles 12-13.1 @ 7:20: The Presidio is a little tricky, as it's constantly rolling. Incidentally, this is the part of the course that looks the most like stereotypical San Francisco to me. I always feel like I'm in Starsky and Hutch!

  • Miles 14-19 @ 7:15: Now Golden Gate Park, which is the first time the scenery stays constant in this race for an extended period of time. The scenery, yes. The road, no. There are more twists on this part of the course than in Enron's SEC filings. Especially vexing is a hairpin turn right after mile 16. Overall though, this is a time to keep a constant pace. I believe I did last year... except for the pit stop I had to make.

  • Miles 20-26.2 @ 7:20: At this point, the plan goes out the window completely. But... a 3:10 finish would take a 7:20 pace over the rest of the course. By this time, my Garmin will have crapped out anyway (it always does on long runs), and any thought of running a steady pace will fall victim to the sudden sharp hills as the course snakes its way through some pretty ugly and empty parts of the city. But if I take it (relatively) easy in the first half of the course, I should hopefully be able to take advantage of the downhills in this section. I am also looking forward to see if I remember any of the trivia questions that are posted along the course. Any distraction will do.

The best laid plans of mice and men...

As an aside, I am participating in fundraising through the marathon's charity program. In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I get my entry fee refunded if I raise at least $250. You should also know that given my total so far, and the late date, that this is quite a long shot. Anyway, the idea is that a large number of charities can all take advantage by working under one umbrella of the marathon organizers. "My" charity is the RunSFM Youth Running program, which attempts to get underprivileged kids running and exercising. This appeals to me because I was a fat kid myself (though not underprivileged), so on a personal note: I know how much it sucks to be fat and a kid. More seriously, I don't think I need to point out the problem with childhood obesity in this country.

So if you have some dough to spare (oh yes, I'll use the cliché: any little bit helps), you can follow the link below to make a donation. Thanks.

Fundraising page

July 13, 2008

Time to Taper

Exactly three weeks until San Francisco, and after my morning track workout, a little voice came on over the speakers in my head: "Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has initiated our descent into the Marathon area. Please bring your mileage down to a manageable level, reduce your food intake and stow your injuries until we have safely completed the course. Thank you." Does anyone else have an airline voice in their head? No, just me? Uh, right...

On the one hand, it's a boon to only be running an eleven-miler tomorrow morning, instead of the 15 I've been taking on the last couple of weeks. I could even sleep in til 6:00am! On the other hand, I know that in about ten days, I'll be going stir-crazy, worrying about all the junk I'm eating, getting the twitchy-leg thing in bed, imagining every little twinge or ache I feel is a debilitating injury that will lay waste to twelve weeks of hard training, the usual taper madness. Ah well.

Not that I'm in any super running shape, anyway. The summer has taken care of that. It happens every year around May, as I compare my times and think "why am I getting slower? Is it age? Nutrition? Long-term burnout? What's happening!?" Then, one day, the temperatures will drop back to 50 or lower, I'll run as fast as I had in April, and the light bulb goes on over my head: it's the heat.

Yes, the heat is killing me. In California, it may only be dry heat, but that's what they say about ovens, too. This morning, I hit the track around 10:30 in the AM, and it was 75 degrees. It's been unusually hot so far this year, and I've paid the price, suffering as much as I ever do in a training cycle, with little to show for it. I've acclimated a little for sure, but in the end, my times seem pathetic, and I have all the speed of a tortoise on methadone. Running San Francisco will be difficult.

But San Francisco is my favorite marathon, in part because it is so difficult. Hills, wind, possibly heat, 5:30am start time, despite all this, I am starting to look forward to it. Bring on the pain.