However, fate had other plans. During a 21-mile road run, I stepped into a porta-potty on a steep hill. I fell out the door as it toppled over and dislocated my shoulder in the landing. It was a week before I could run again and two weeks before I could do another long run, so I was entering the Grandfather Mountain Marathon somewhat under-trained. As a result, I decided to take it easy in the marathon and not worry about my time. However, in the back of my mind was Nathan's time from the day before (4:08:59) and our friendly contest of who could have the faster time for the weekend.
Grandfather Mountain is billed as tough largely because of the hills. To get an impression of the climbing, here's an elevation chart from mapmyrun.com:
The profile is a little deceptive because the first half was actually harder than the second half. Luckily, I overheard comments like this before the race started and didn't worry myself about walking as early as the first few miles when steep hills lasted several miles with no break in sight. Everyone else around me was also walking from time to time, and I found myself still fresh late in the race and able to pass many folks when the course was more runnable. I was pretty conservative on the downhills, not wanting to trash my quads, but in retrospect I regret that as I finished with no soreness whatsoever in my quads.
The course was almost entirely on asphalt roads which were open to traffic, including traffic to the largest Scottish Highland games in the country, which was where our race finished. Because the roads were so hilly and curvy, they were all banked and there were few opportunities to run on even ground. This caused all my old injuries to rear their heads at least minimally and makes for a course I wouldn't recommend for the injury prone. I've also resolved to move away from my Mizunos entirely as I've been hobbling around with a sore ankle which, after inspection, my dad the doctor says could indicate a stress fracture (I had a similar issue on the bottom of my foot after running a 50K in the Mizunos).
At the halfway mark I had a time of about 2:03, so shooting for Nathan's time was not unreasonable. However, there wasn't much downhill left so it wouldn't be as simple as running even splits. Miles 16-17 were a steep uphill, much of which was on rocky gravel (not the nice dirt road I was expecting) and so by the time I crested that climb, I realized I would have to pick it up a little to beat him. My stomach encouraged me to take it easy: I've grown accustomed to sipping continuously from my handheld water bottle and I found myself leaving each aid station with my stomach hurting from drinking too much water, but still thirsty.
We turned onto the road for the last 9 miles of hugging the side of the road to avoid all the patrons of the Scottish Games making their way to the festival. It was rolling for awhile so I made good time, feeling better than I ever have before at miles 19-24 of a marathon. Another climb followed so I took a couple short walking breaks. Just before the 25 mile mark a man pulled up beside me as I walked and said, “Come on, the finish is almost in sight.” I thought, “Yeah, he's right, I'm just being lazy.” I ran with him and then 10-20 meters behind him for the rest of race, having to weave through the craziness of the Highland Games to get to the finish line. I ended up crossing in 4:14:16. This was my slowest marathon time to date, but I'm happy with it. Now to find the next race... (anyone recommend any ultras in the Carolinas that would fall over my Christmas break?)
-Jordan
