The conventional wisdom on running a personal best in any race is to run an even pace. On the occasion of my 60th birthday, I executed a strong 3-month buildup and tried both a fast start, and 3 weeks later, a negative split run. I never ran the half marathon until age 58, it's a distance I can run a PR over, even as a geezer.
Struggling to the finish after a fast start, but a PR nonetheless
For elite runners, the preferred PR strategy is a fast start, perhaps a minor lull in pace for the middle miles, and a fast finish. You see this in many of the faster marathons like Berlin or London - a big pack of elites jam at a crazy pace from the gun. Runners fall off the back of the pack and dropout, with 1 - 3 studs hanging on to vie for the win and a fast time.
Me, I want to make a major dent in my PR of 1:44:35, set at age 58. I prepared well, started at 25 miles per week and working it up to 50 over three months. Key workouts included plenty of 10 - 13 mile runs, and 7-mile runs at faster than race pace.
First Attempt: Victory Half Marathon
When I toed the line at the Victory Half Marathon at the Richmond, CA marina in late February, I felt ready to take a shot at running a 1:40:00 half marathon. I had a solid race plan, go out easy and build into a fast pace for the 2nd half of the run.
But I felt edgy, worried that I would start too slow and lose my shot. Fact is, I didn't know that until the race started. I felt good and started too quick! I ran through 6 miles in 44:57 (46:27 10k pace). Damn! That was 7:30 per mile pace, a good minute faster than I'd planned, indeed it was a half minuted faster than a recent 10K race I'd run.
Still, I felt strong and hoped to hang on towards my goal. The surface was paved bike path, a bit the unforgiving, hard surface, but fast. Things got rough at the half-way point on the out-and-back course. The turnaround was comprised of a bumpy, muddy path, slick with puddles from the winter rains.
Struggling to maintain rhythm, the course markings were lackluster through the dirt path moment. Hard to know which path to follow. I soldiered on; after about a kilometer of the draining dirt path, it was back to the bike trail to the finish.
Locked into my rhythm, I continued strong through 10 miles in 1:16:30. Okay so my pace per mile slowed to 7:39, but I was dead-on pace to run about 1:40. I was tired but excited!
Around then, I felt like a sea lion popped out of the adjacent San Francisco Bay and took a ride on my back. Working hard to keep rhythm, the power drained out of me and I slowed to roughly 8:30 pace over the last 5K. Yup, I hit the wall, hard!
Struggling through the finish, I stopped the clock at 1:42:45. Every tick over 1:40:00 was gained over that last 3 miles! I hadn't rigged that hard since age 19, when I was on pace for a 1:55 half mile and ran backwards over the last 220 yards to a 1:58.0!
Well, I wanted my 1:40:00 half marathon. I went for it, and paid the price. What the heck, I still PR'd by 1:50, can't complain too much. But fact is, I was left with the feeling that my fast start left precious seconds on the table. Surely if I'd gone out at, say, 7:45 per mile pace instead of 7:30, I'd have been able to pick up the pace in the second half of the race?
A day or two after the Victory Half, I looked over some local races and decided to run the Zoom Quarry Lakes Half Marathon in Fremont, CA over a mostly flat course, three weeks later. Reasoning I was in darn good shape, I reasoned that I could go out easy and get it right if I tried again.
Racing two half marathons over a three-week stretch is not recommended. That didn't stop me. I knew I'd take a break after my 3-month buildup, so what's the harm in throwing in another race before taking a break?
Whereas the Victory Half Marathon had a field of several hundred runners, the Zoom event had less than a hundred. The very epitome of the low-key race, I figured it would be a true solo effort with few runners around. I hoped the course was well-marked!
We started out and I stuck to my guns, running a slower pace over packed gravel. I felt comfortable and did not let the people passing me change my pace. Enjoying the spring greenery and the lake, I bided my time.
"I climbed inside a relaxed yet syncopated rhythm and determined to ride it to the finish."
I knocked down a gulp of gatorade at the first aid station. I usually drink water on a run. This time, I wanted to replace electrolytes and take on a bit of fuel for the 13.1 mile distance. I did not want to run out of gas this time!
By 4 - 5 miles, I'd caught and eased by a couple runners who had to slow their pace. I was going evenly and keeping positive. Around 40 minutes in, I found an easy robot rhythm and sped up a wee bit. I felt good but did not want to push yet. Another aid station and another gulp of gatorade, and I felt downright jaunty. That stuff is nasty, but it works!
I had a long way to go yet felt confident. I was truly on my own, no other runners ahead or behind in sight. There were no mile markers to gauge my time, and no runners around me. I kept my eye on the ribbons marking the course and maintained. Approaching the 3rd aid station, I noticed there was a big water dispenser at each station blocking the cups of water and gatorade from sight. It was work to find and pluck the right cup, but I did it.
Once again I felt a zing from the gatorade gulp and settled into my pace, picking it up a tad more. Maybe there was 5 miles to go. This was it, I climbed inside a relaxed yet syncopated rhythm and determined to ride it to the finish. Focused and rolling well, working hard but content.
A young runner slid by me with 1.5 miles to go. I was rolling, he was rolling a little faster. His fluorescent yellow socks pulled high, I remember passing him at 4 miles. Clearly he'd gone out too fast. Young & strong, he recovered for a final push.
Yes, 1.1k short of a half marathon, but you get the idea. Honestly, I'll temper the anecdote with the fact that I placed all of 83rd in a field of maybe 385. Early days of prize money, everybody showed up for a shot at it.
In fairness to yellow socks guy, I did try a half-marathon at age 21 in New Bedford, MA, and failed. I ran with my pal Jeff King to the 8-mile mark, then promptly dropped out. Jeff was the 1976 Massachusetts state half mile champ, running about 1:53 in high school. Not too shabby. We cruised along that day in New Bedford at about 5:30 - 5:35 pace before I threw in the towel. To Jeff's credit, he soldiered on. Me, I was in a world of searing pain and stopped cold!
Following the two runners just in front of me, I navigated a couple turns and could smell the finish. We're all gunning for it now. Of a moment, the paved bikeway gave way to a goddamn muddy, bumpy path. What the Hell?! This only lasts for a couple minutes, but it was a ball-buster to maintain pace and cadence.
Out of the mud, we're back on the asphalt trail, just a couple hundred meters to roll. I dig down to pick it up a bit and we're through the finish chute. I stop the clock at 1:41:58. Another 47 seconds sliced off my personal best run! I didn't get under 1:40:00, that's out there for another day. Could be, I was a bit tired from the first race.
I can't say for sure if I ran negative splits. There were no mile markers on the course. There no question that I measured out my energy flow properly. I cruised for the first 40 minutes, then it was GO time. I squeezed my pace up for the rest of the way, hitting an average pace of 7:47 per mile. I was pretty happy!
It's not lost on me that I'd done plenty of long runs at a faster pace in training as a college kid. But no matter, it's still a trill to run and race, and a personal best is what it is!
Still, I felt strong and hoped to hang on towards my goal. The surface was paved bike path, a bit the unforgiving, hard surface, but fast. Things got rough at the half-way point on the out-and-back course. The turnaround was comprised of a bumpy, muddy path, slick with puddles from the winter rains.
Struggling to maintain rhythm, the course markings were lackluster through the dirt path moment. Hard to know which path to follow. I soldiered on; after about a kilometer of the draining dirt path, it was back to the bike trail to the finish.
Locked into my rhythm, I continued strong through 10 miles in 1:16:30. Okay so my pace per mile slowed to 7:39, but I was dead-on pace to run about 1:40. I was tired but excited!
Around then, I felt like a sea lion popped out of the adjacent San Francisco Bay and took a ride on my back. Working hard to keep rhythm, the power drained out of me and I slowed to roughly 8:30 pace over the last 5K. Yup, I hit the wall, hard!
Struggling through the finish, I stopped the clock at 1:42:45. Every tick over 1:40:00 was gained over that last 3 miles! I hadn't rigged that hard since age 19, when I was on pace for a 1:55 half mile and ran backwards over the last 220 yards to a 1:58.0!
Well, I wanted my 1:40:00 half marathon. I went for it, and paid the price. What the heck, I still PR'd by 1:50, can't complain too much. But fact is, I was left with the feeling that my fast start left precious seconds on the table. Surely if I'd gone out at, say, 7:45 per mile pace instead of 7:30, I'd have been able to pick up the pace in the second half of the race?
A day or two after the Victory Half, I looked over some local races and decided to run the Zoom Quarry Lakes Half Marathon in Fremont, CA over a mostly flat course, three weeks later. Reasoning I was in darn good shape, I reasoned that I could go out easy and get it right if I tried again.
Racing two half marathons over a three-week stretch is not recommended. That didn't stop me. I knew I'd take a break after my 3-month buildup, so what's the harm in throwing in another race before taking a break?
Second Attempt: Zoom Quarry Lakes Half Marathon
Whereas the Victory Half Marathon had a field of several hundred runners, the Zoom event had less than a hundred. The very epitome of the low-key race, I figured it would be a true solo effort with few runners around. I hoped the course was well-marked!
We started out and I stuck to my guns, running a slower pace over packed gravel. I felt comfortable and did not let the people passing me change my pace. Enjoying the spring greenery and the lake, I bided my time.
"I climbed inside a relaxed yet syncopated rhythm and determined to ride it to the finish."
I knocked down a gulp of gatorade at the first aid station. I usually drink water on a run. This time, I wanted to replace electrolytes and take on a bit of fuel for the 13.1 mile distance. I did not want to run out of gas this time!
By 4 - 5 miles, I'd caught and eased by a couple runners who had to slow their pace. I was going evenly and keeping positive. Around 40 minutes in, I found an easy robot rhythm and sped up a wee bit. I felt good but did not want to push yet. Another aid station and another gulp of gatorade, and I felt downright jaunty. That stuff is nasty, but it works!
I had a long way to go yet felt confident. I was truly on my own, no other runners ahead or behind in sight. There were no mile markers to gauge my time, and no runners around me. I kept my eye on the ribbons marking the course and maintained. Approaching the 3rd aid station, I noticed there was a big water dispenser at each station blocking the cups of water and gatorade from sight. It was work to find and pluck the right cup, but I did it.
Once again I felt a zing from the gatorade gulp and settled into my pace, picking it up a tad more. Maybe there was 5 miles to go. This was it, I climbed inside a relaxed yet syncopated rhythm and determined to ride it to the finish. Focused and rolling well, working hard but content.
A young runner slid by me with 1.5 miles to go. I was rolling, he was rolling a little faster. His fluorescent yellow socks pulled high, I remember passing him at 4 miles. Clearly he'd gone out too fast. Young & strong, he recovered for a final push.
The Inevitable Glory Days Reference
I entertained the petty yet true thought, "I'd be 20 minutes ahead of you at your age". I know, I never ran a half marathon until I was 58 -- how can I be sure I'd beat the young guy in the silly socks? Easy. Back in '89, in Oakland, I ran 20K in 1:14:51.Yes, 1.1k short of a half marathon, but you get the idea. Honestly, I'll temper the anecdote with the fact that I placed all of 83rd in a field of maybe 385. Early days of prize money, everybody showed up for a shot at it.
In fairness to yellow socks guy, I did try a half-marathon at age 21 in New Bedford, MA, and failed. I ran with my pal Jeff King to the 8-mile mark, then promptly dropped out. Jeff was the 1976 Massachusetts state half mile champ, running about 1:53 in high school. Not too shabby. We cruised along that day in New Bedford at about 5:30 - 5:35 pace before I threw in the towel. To Jeff's credit, he soldiered on. Me, I was in a world of searing pain and stopped cold!
Bumping to the Finish
I considered trying to run with yellow socks kid. I'd been gaining on another runner some 50 meters ahead of me slowly but surely. Why not go for glory? Instead, I let the guy in the silly socks go. I'd been working hard for a good many miles, and did not want to blow up again! Instead of trying to push for a faster pace, I looked to relax and go as fast as I could within my rhythm.Following the two runners just in front of me, I navigated a couple turns and could smell the finish. We're all gunning for it now. Of a moment, the paved bikeway gave way to a goddamn muddy, bumpy path. What the Hell?! This only lasts for a couple minutes, but it was a ball-buster to maintain pace and cadence.
Out of the mud, we're back on the asphalt trail, just a couple hundred meters to roll. I dig down to pick it up a bit and we're through the finish chute. I stop the clock at 1:41:58. Another 47 seconds sliced off my personal best run! I didn't get under 1:40:00, that's out there for another day. Could be, I was a bit tired from the first race.
I can't say for sure if I ran negative splits. There were no mile markers on the course. There no question that I measured out my energy flow properly. I cruised for the first 40 minutes, then it was GO time. I squeezed my pace up for the rest of the way, hitting an average pace of 7:47 per mile. I was pretty happy!
It's not lost on me that I'd done plenty of long runs at a faster pace in training as a college kid. But no matter, it's still a trill to run and race, and a personal best is what it is!
