Rock & Roll Arizona Marathon Race Recap

It’s the day after the 2011 Rock & Roll Arizona Marathon, and I can still barely walk. My hips ache, my hamstrings are tight, and my feet feel like the bi-products of ground beef. I had significant trouble sleeping last night due to discomfort in my legs, and my digestive system is just now settling down and getting back to normal. However, if that is both the cost and ‘reward’ from three-plus hours of work and agony yesterday morning, I’ll be happy to take it.

I’ve done the half-marathon race in this event twice, but never the full. It’s a tremendously well-run event, with a huge crowd and a nice, flat course. When I was making my winter racing plans, I really felt like I was capable of making a go at a Boston Qualifying time. The 3:10 standard for my age group is well below my PR of 3:18, but I’d had a good summer of running; was starting to pick my speed up; and more important than anything else, I really had the desire and motivation to make it through the requisite training. The Rock & Roll Arizona Marathon was the perfect setting, given its timing, weather (almost always sunny with mild temps), and fast course.

When race day came, everything was just about as expected. The temperature at the start was in the low-to-mid 40’s, with just enough cloud cover to keep us out of direct sunlight. I was in corral 1, where I met Tony Stafford, the 3:10 pacer and a friend of my sister’s; and my friend Matt, who had the same BQ goal as me. The elites (including Josh Cox getting ready for his new AR in the 50k) were just in front of us, and the rest of the 5,000 runners were behind us.

Once the race started we ran at smooth 7:15 pace. The first 3 or 4 miles flew by; I could barely believe how quickly they passed and how easy they felt. That part of the course was through a quiet, commercial part of town. More importantly, it was very flat. I felt fortunate that I could make it through this first fraction with minimal damage, and started preparing myself mentally for the long haul.

Mile 6 brought the first feelings of ‘work’ in my legs. The pace didn’t feel hard or challenging, just no longer easy. I concentrated on not letting foreboding thoughts about the next 20 miles poison my attitude. At about this time, the route started working its way west through Phoenix, giving me the visual goal of Camelback Mountain; or something on the horizon to pull myself towards for the next few miles.

The 3:10 pace group hit the halfway mark in 1:32, or about 3 minutes ahead of an even split time. It felt good to have a few minutes ‘in the bank’, but I could really start to feel the accumulated work take its toll. I’d say the level of effort at that time went from ‘not easy’ to ‘not hard, but...’.

My friend Matt had the mental strategy of breaking down the course into three mile chunks, with the goal of knocking out each piece in 21:30. Starting at mile 12, this really became a big help to not focus on the 14 total miles remaining, but rather, just the next 3. My purpose became to get to mile 15 on time, then 18, then 21. There’s no point in even being mindful of a portion of the race 10 miles away because there’s no telling how you’ll feel when you get there. Three miles ahead is a different story, as you can sense any potential trouble you might encounter in the next twenty minutes, and mentally focus or regroup as necessary. This midsection of the race became a repetition of 'survive 3 miles and reassess'. 

Mile 19 got into a really nice part of the course as we wound or way thought Old Town Scottsdale, with positive crowds and intimate neighborhoods and shopping districts. This area was also home for me not too long ago, which gave me the added benefit of familiarity. I felt good and strong going through this segment of the course, but once it was over and we hit mile 21, the effort rocketed up from ‘not hard’ to ‘stabbed in my feet and thighs’. I was still with the 3:10 pace group, but straggling at the back of the pack. The pace group was down to about 10 now from 25 at the start, and I started to believe myself that my departure would reduce the group to a headcount of 9. Every slight uphill swale felt like a good time to stop and give up on my BQ goal. I just wanted the whole ordeal to be over. However, I also knew that'd be wasting the two-plus hours of work I'd already put in (not to mention the months of training). My mantra became ‘Hang On’, and do whatever it would take to stay on pace.

I was reminded of a powerful memory I had from viewing this year’s NYC Marathon when Shalane Flanagan held on until the end and finished second. Moments after she crossed the finish line, she was on her hands and knees in full and utter exhaustion. The agony she must have endured the last few miles while holding on to the end is what separates those who achieve their goals, and those who fail. I convinced myself to do as Shalane did, and endure everything until I finished 26.2 miles - to just hang on.

Shalane Flanagan after finishing the 2010 NYC Marathon in 2nd place

At mile 22, the game changed. We hit a water stop, and my conviction to hang on coupled with a cup of cold water poured on my head gave me the last charge I needed. The temperature was up into the 50s by now, so that little bit of coolant was a big boost. I felt fresher, stronger, and within reach of the end. I went from a straggler on the back of the 3:10 pace group (which was probably down to 5 runners) to running at the front of it. I was just trying to tackle one mile at a time, and gradually work my way up to 26. Matt was still with me, and our pacer, Tony, was still keeping us encouraged and running strong. I could also feel the blisters on both of my feet start to make their presence felt, but it was nothing too severe to be a problem.

Left-to-Right: Matt, Me, and Tony around mile 23

I started the countdown in my mind of whatever milestone I could come up with: 30 minutes to go, 4 miles, 3 miles, 20 minutes, 2 miles, 2 km. At each point, I did the calculation of what kind of pace I’d have to run the rest of the way to hit 3:10. Once those calculations started to get up to 8:00 and 9:00 paces, I started thinking that I had my 3:10 in the bag, that I could easily coast in the rest of the way and get a qualifying time. That was my first sensation that I’d done it; that I would be a 3:10 marathoner and Boston Qualifier. It got much easier to hang on and grind through the rest of the race when it was measured in mere fractions of a mile. Tony (the 3:10 pacer) let me go, saying I had it, and now I just needed to enjoy the victory lap.

I clicked off the last milestones: 0.9 miles to go, 0.8, 0.5, and so on until I made the last turn and saw the finish line a few hundred yards ahead. I checked my watch, checked ahead of me and behind me to see if anyone was nearby (they weren’t), then truly enjoyed the last 20 yards as I clapped for the crowd and ‘airplaned’ my way across the finish line. All that was left to do was check my final time – 3:06:23. New PR. Qualified for Boston.

Check out the splits & details from my Garmin Forerunner

Tony, Matt, and Me after finishing under 3:10. I couldn't have done it without both of these guys.