Alternate title: Stuff that would’ve made the race report even longer.

Pre-race
The shuttle bus driver made a wrong turn on the short trip to the Dodger Stadium. It was a short detour that wouldn’t have bugged me if I wasn’t sitting in front a a Chatty Cathy with an annoying voice.

I bumped in to Carlos — a fellow Bruin — and some of his friends. Carlos ran last year’s marathon too and reminded me that organizers promised no rain in a promotional email. We laughed at their optimism.

I noticed that people bring some nice throwaway sweaters. A guy near me who took off a rust orange Volcom hoodie. If I knew I was going to see my brother anywhere early in the race, I would’ve picked it up and brought it with me.

Councilman Tom LaBonge greeted the runners at the starting line. He said, “I’ve already been to the Griffith Observatory this morning and it’s not going to rain!” I liked his optimism, and was glad his prediction (or educated guess since the observatory provides some great views of the city) panned out.

When the MC introduced Frank McCourt, owner of the LA Marathon and the Dodgers (for now), I booed. I wasn’t the only one. I mentioned this on Twitter and another runner noted that booing on Sunday was inappropriate because McCourt hasn’t mismanaged the marathon. It’s actually improved under his ownership. One can’t say the same for the Dodgers. I’ve been a Dodger fan since I was a kid and only recently became a runner. Booing McCourt is almost a reflex.

On Saturday night, I made a sign for my shirt. The Chapulín Colorado catch phrase roughly translates to: Good guys, follow me! I was in rush changing shirts on Sunday morning and didn’t check to make sure it was visible. Unfortunately, my ponytail covered the note. Fail. Maybe I can wear it for a Halloween race along with my Chapulín Colorado costume.

Race support & logistics
I’m glad it never rained on Sunday and scared away spectators. There were tons of people out, especially later in the race/morning. I saw a couple of signs that read “you trained longer than Kim Kardashian’s marriage.” That made me laugh even though it wasn’t technically true for me. I preferred “You’re the sh*t!” at mile 20 and “Make the wall your bitch!” around mile 23-24. I appreciate funny signs. It distracts me from worrying about my pace or any pain.

At two separate points, I almost slipped on an orange peel and tripped over a bump in the street. I caught my balance, but freaked out a little and became more alert of any road issues. Also, I still take bad race photos even during a good race. I kept getting caught chewing.

As usual, the volunteers were pretty awesome. I thought the water stops were more crowded than last year, but that made sense as it was warmer/sunny. I still need to find a good way to grab water at an aid station without slowing down much to dodge runners who take walk breaks.

Although my splits every 10K show that I was getting faster, I never really felt like that. I thought I was slowing going in to the 30K mark and only really felt faster in the final 5 miles. Still, it’s neat to have those numbers and know that I ran a smart race.

Post-race, recovery, and future plans

I felt pretty good after crossing the finish line. I got my medal and heat blanket, took photos, and got some snacks (something to hold them would’ve been nice). I had no problem walking the few blocks to get to the meet up area and found Sean a few minutes later. We walked a few blocks more to the car and were out of Santa Monica and home quickly. My post-race experience was such a contrast to last year’s when I was freezing and waiting forever for my dad to get the car so I could get home.

Sean has been incredibly supportive and helpful pre- and post-race. He texted me, “you did it!” as soon as my finish time posted. He never complained about waking up at 4 am to drop me off for the shuttle, standing around waiting for me to come through in Beverly Hills or spending an hour looking for parking in Santa Monica. When I saw him, he wasn’t holding up his Nelson Muntz sign (he was snapping photos), but he did bring it out. Best thing: He remembered to bring some chocolate milk. That was refreshing.

My parents were too tired to come out this year after hosting the fundraiser party (they raised over $2,000 for the orphanage in Tijuana). They sent their support via texts, calls and prayers while in Mass.

I’m still slightly sore, but I know that comes with the territory especially with the way I ran the downhill miles at the end. I’m grateful for accessible ramp sidewalks and living on a first floor apartment. I have no problem taking a few days off of any kind of exercise.

I know a lot of people come off a great race ready to sign up for several more. I’m not one of those people; too cheap. I’ll likely race another half this spring as well as a local 5K and 10K. I got more PRs to set.

THE SHORT
I don’t see the point in keeping y’all in suspense ‘til the end of my race report to find out how marathon #3 went. Basically, I had one of those races where the stars align, everything goes (almost) perfectly and I learned that I was capable of achieving something that seemed like a long shot. I finished my second LA Marathon in 3:58:33 (9:06 pace; almost exactly what was predicted with my half marathon PR and McMillan calculator), earned a 25+ minute personal best, and pulled off a decent negative split.

Even though I’m exhausted, my quads are quite sore, and my body is punishing me for taking caffeinated gels, I feel pretty awesome.

THE LONG

The plan
I didn’t abandon the sub-4 goal. On Thursday, I downloaded Greg Maclin’s customizable pace bands made specifically for the LA Marathon. (It costs $5, but it is so worth it.) I fooled around with the settings and printed out two different plans. One had me running a 3:59 intending to start off conservative, hit the half at 2:00:16 and then manage a modest negative split in the second half. Yeah, it was ambitious and faster than what I discussed with Marc (my coach), but a similar strategy. The second plan was for a 4:03 and had an even larger negative split planned. I figured that even if I failed, I could still squeak in under 4:06 and make the A goal I set last week. The 3:59 plan was risky, but I was willing to give it a shot. I printed both bands and got them ready to wear. Sean helped me affix the 3:59 band on my right wrist. I stuffed the 4:03 band in my pocket.

Pre-race
I took a little longer getting ready than expected. On Saturday night, I opted for a long-sleeved shirt, but after re-checking the weather I thought it might be too much (highs were in the 50s with some wind). Rain was still in the forecast at 30-40%. Instead, I wore my 2011 Long Beach Marathon & Half finisher’s tee. I had a crappy race there, but the palm tree printed tech tee is one of my favorites. I took a throwaway hoodie, gloves and an old race mylar blanket to keep me warm while waiting for the race to start, but it was still pretty cold.

Most of the pre-race logistics at the stadium went pretty smooth. Just like last year, I took a shuttle to Dodger Stadium. It felt like I was going to a game, because I took a shuttle from Patsouras Plaza at Union Station. I didn’t have as much time to hang out in the stadium, but enough to get all necessities taken care of. Getting to chill in Dodger Stadium before a race calmed my nerves and got me more excited for the new season. I spotted, a marathon maniac I’ve seen simultaneously cheering at/running local races. I loved his sign.

The LA Marathon offers runners with previous sub-3, sub-4 and sub-5 hour marathons an option to get in to a seeded corral. I was assigned to corral C for runners with a recent sub-5, but was never able to get in. The one corral entrance line was long and lots of people were cutting creating a bottle neck. I waited for 25 minutes, but the corrals closed at 7 and I still wasn’t in. Rather than stress, I squeezed in to the open corrals.

The race

Miles 1-6: Dodger Stadium, Chinatown, Downtown and Echo Park
Surprisingly, the race started on time at 7:28 after some words of encouragement from local politicians and the national anthem. I had squeezed myself in to the 8 minute mile area so I wasn’t too far back and didn’t need to dodge too many throwaway sweaters, trash bags, and ponchos on the floor. It was easy to keep the first mile conservative because of congestion and issues with my iFitness belt. I’d overstuffed it with Gu chomps and my iPhone. The bouncing was annoying, so I took it off and held it for the first few miles. The poncho I tucked in to the belt fell out, but it didn’t matter since I never needed it. That’s right, it stayed dry all day! I ran some of the early miles a little too fast, but it all evened out when I slowed down running the hills on 1st Street from City Hall to Disney Hall and on Temple leaving downtown and heading up to Echo Park.

10K stats (see below for mile splits compared to the goal splits based on the Maclin pace band):
Time: 57:59 [goal: 58:01]
Pace: 9:20
Estimated finish: 4:04:02

Miles 7-12: Echo Park, Silver Lake, and Hollywood
The sun started peaking out and the runners were treated to some great views of the San Gabriel Mountains topped with snow and the Hollywod sign across town. The views are always best after a rainy day. I worried that I didn’t apply sunblock anywhere else aside from my face. I didn’t want a farmer’s tan or a sunburn. Thankfully, there were scattered clouds and the buildings provided some shade.

I was diligent about not running through any of the water stops and staying hydrated (despite needing to pee!). I threw off my throwaway gloves and took my first gel. I routinely checked the time on my watch against the pace band. I was pretty even and comfortable with the pace. Worst thing about running on Sunset through Echo Park and Silver Lake? The smell of bacon from breakfast spots. Best thing? Lots of crowd support, wonderful volunteers. The latter continued throughout the course.

20K stats:
Time: 1:54:22 [goal: 1:53:35]
Pace: 9:12
Estimated finish: 4:01:12

Miles 13-18: West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and Century City
My goal was to hit the half at 2:00:16. I don’t remember when I got there, but I was probably 30-60 seconds slower than expected. I was consistently off from my pace band, but I didn’t worry. I knew if I freaked out I’d start pushing too much and tire myself out before I hit mile 20. If possible, I’d make up the time later. If not, I wouldn’t sweat it. I stopped checking my watch against the pace band each mile and told myself I’d check it again at mile 18.

I coasted through the rolling terrain on the Sunset Strip and made sure not to take down the big hill on San Vicente to Santa Monica Boulevard too fast. I started to feel like I was fading as we entered Beverly Hills (I felt like this last year too). I had a small side stitch and wanted to stop for a bathroom break. I considered it at an aid station, but just kept going not being uncomfortable enough and unwilling to lose a minute. I took some Gu chomps again, but chewing them was annoying and felt like wasted energy.

I got a big boost when I spotted Sean at Wilshire and Rodeo… familiar running territory. Sean snapped a couple of photos and caught me chewing. I yelled out, “I love you!” but he didn’t hear me. Although I’m familiar with LA, I’m only accustomed to running on the westside. It felt good to be back on my home turf and on regular training routes and passing usual commuting points.

30K stats:
Time: 2:51:16 [goal: 2:49:56]
Pace: 9:11
Estimated finish: 4:00:46

Mile 19-25: Westwood, West LA, Veteran’s Administration grounds, Brentwood, and Santa Monica
Approaching mile 20 on Sepulveda Blvd, Rilo Kiley’s “With Arms Outstretched” — a favorite song during races — started playing on my Shuffle. I paused it so I could begin listening at exactly mile 20 when I had 6.2 miles remaining. It wasn’t the “sixteen miles to the promised land,” but the lyrics still applied and the timing was perfect. I started to speed up slightly even though my quads were beginning to ache. As I neared the entrance to the VA grounds, a familiar person waved. It was Aidé, my friend Liz’s older sister (Liz ran the marathon too, congrats!). It was cool to see her.

I grabbed a Clif gel from a volunteer and took it with some water before leaving the VA grounds. It was gross, but the caffeine and sugar worked quickly to energize me as I approached the final five. Last year, I remember the hills through the VA being challenging enough to force a short walk break. I didn’t need to slow down and concentrated on staying on pace and getting to San Vicente. I knew I was behind my goal pace, but told myself I could let myself go once I got to San Vicente. At mile 23, my Garmin read 3:31:XX (should’ve been 3:30:15). I did the math and figured if I kept a <9 minute pace for the final 3.2 miles I could meet my A+/stars aligned/everything was as perfect as it could be goal.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t too hard to speed up and slap a tempo run at 10K pace to the end of a marathon. I had the motivation, energy, a moving mantra on repeat (We will run and not grow weary / for our God will be our strength — I’d heard it in church the day before), upbeat music, and a downhill stretch coming up. I ran a couple of my fastest miles at miles 24 and 25. I heard someone call my name. At first I thought it was just a random spectator reading my bib. Then I saw my good friend, Gabby, in a Dodgers pull over. I was so happy to see her. I smiled and waved and got another little boost.

I didn’t know how I was managing to run 8:20 miles miles so easily on very tired legs, but I was. It felt amazing.

40K stats:
Time: 3:47:15 [goal: 3:46:49]
Pace: 9:09
Estimated finish: 3:59:54

The homestretch and finish
When I hit mile 25, I knew I could finish in 3:59:XX as long as I held on and didn’t lose momentum. I expected to slow down once turning on to Ocean Boulevard thanks to the wind. I slowed briefly as expected, but I picked it up again thanks to crowd support and a motivating glimpse of the finish line 8 blocks away.

Once again, I got a musical boost. This time it was from Tijuanense chanteuse Julieta Venegas. I skipped songs until something appropriate came on. It was easy to settle on “Eterno” with a driving beat and lyrics like: Quiero que sea eterno, este momento / suspendido en el tiempo (I want this moment to be eternal, suspended in time). I’m pretty sure I’ll always remember the feeling of running toward the finish line feeling incredibly strong and calling out to the the crowd, “I can’t hear you! Louder!” They responded and cheered louder. I loved it.

The official clock clicked from 4:00:59 to 4:01:00. I didn’t feel disheartened. I knew I was coming in under four hours. I crossed the finish line, raised my arms and waited a moment to stop my Garmin.

Official time: 3:58:33.

Looks like another perfect race, I love LA! (Apologies to Randy Newman.)

STATS
The green numbers were 10 seconds+ faster than goal pace for that mile; red were 10 seconds or more slower. I was generally a little slower and sped up a lot at the end. Garmin had me running 26.35 miles, hence the difference in actual pace on Garmin officially. Not too bad considering there are lots of turns, a couple of bridges, and weaving at the water stops.

Today:

I made pancakes for breakfast and learned that they don’t come out too well if made with almond milk.

I added songs from my LA-centric playlist to the iPod Shuffle and listened to news podcasts while avoiding the morning rain.

I ate some sopa de fideo with potatoes and chicken (#carboloading like a Mexican).

I drove out to my mom’s house with Sean to attend the annual fundraiser to benefit a Tijuana orphanage. I put up the signs with the menu I made before. It included carne asada tacos, enchiladas (chicken or cheese), pozole (chicken or pork), pupusas (cheese or revueltas), tamales, rice and beans.

I found more marathon toilet paper.

I went to Mass at my home parish, St John Vianney. I got emotional and couldn’t suppress the tears when the assembly sang the refrain to an hymn called “We Will Rise Again:”
We will run and not grow weary
For our God will be our strength
And we will fly like the eagle
We will rise again
Yeah, that’s the kind of hymn I want to hear on the eve of a marathon. “We Will Rise Again” has become a theme of sorts for SJV as the community rebuilds from last year’s fire that destroyed the beautiful church.

I returned to the party, now packed with the band (dad on the bass) and lots of people eating, dancing and trying to keep warm. Papá Chepe and I danced to a cumbia — just one, gotta keep the legs fresh — and got the party started. Despite being the eldest person there at 91, he’s still one of the first people out on the dancefloor.

I ate tacos, enchiladas and rice and hung out with my cousins. My uncle asked me if the marathon would be canceled because of the rain. Nope. They all wished me luck before I left later.

I showed off the t-shirt Sean bought me at the expo. I think it’s my new favorite t-shirt.

I left the party and returned home. Got things ready for tomorrow, checked the weather for the 13th time and studied my strategy again.

I’m ready…

In normal procrastinator fashion, I didn’t have a race strategy until a few days before the race. I’ve been thinking about and mulling over two questions:

1. Should I be gutsy and go for a sub-4?
2. Should I be prudent and shoot for something around 4:06?

After a lot of over thinking (see below), I have a some goals and a plan. Skip to the end if you don’t care to read how I got overly confident and then got realistic.

I haven’t mentioned the possibility of a sub-4 on my blog, but it’s been in the back of my mind since December when I PR’ed at the Holiday Half. As soon as I got home, I did what most runners do and plugged my new PR in to the McMillan calculator. The results:

I didn’t think too much of that predicted marathon time as I wasn’t even sure I’d run LA. I’m also well aware that while it’s a great training tool and was only 3 minutes off for my first marathon, McMillan is an imperfect predictor. Lots of things can happen in training and on race day.

A few weeks later, I decided to run the marathon and told my coach, Marc, that I wanted to run <4:09. I picked that time based on the McMillan predicted finish using my Pasadena half result (1:58:32). I definitely wanted to PR and shave several minutes off my time, but I also wanted to get to the starting line healthy.

I’ve had a great, albeit short, training cycle. I’m happy with my recent race performances, hit the prescribed times in my speed work, got in most of my runs, added in strength training and some cross training. I ran hills and did some good — and really crappy — long runs. The only thing I hadn’t done was set a marathon goal pace and get used to it. Whoops.

Responsible Me wants to go with a more conservative time between 4:06-4:10. Gutsy Me wants to shoot for the sub-4 McMillan and other calculators predict. Marc thinks I should go for a 4:06/9:24 pace which he got by doubling my half PR and adding 20 minutes to account for the hills.

Smart, but the sub-4 was still in the back of my mind. I checked out Greg Maclin’s course specific pace bands recommended by my friend Scott. Dude is speedy. The stadium to the sea course is net downhill but has some formidable hills, especially on tired legs at miles 17-18.

I downloaded Maclin’s trial version and entered a 3:58 goal for a 9:04 overall pace. The individual mile paces are all over the place. On downhill portions it’s ~8:45, flatter ~9, on the hills it’s about ~9:35. Maclin’s paces made a sub-4 goal look less intimidating. Maybe even doable? You know, discounting the fact that speedier runners with half marathon times in the 1:40s have struggled to attain a 3:5X finish.

I was tempted to change my non-plan for Sunday and shoot for the sub-4. After all, I’m not planning to run another marathon this year. Next year might be out of the question too.

Then logic set in. I didn’t train for a sub-4. Trying to do that on Sunday could blow up in my face and leave me feeling miserable on San Vicente in the final five. I really don’t want to relive my Long Beach experience where I had a great first half, slowed down but was still okay until mile 18, and went off the rails after that. Of course, I can run conservatively and still have a bad race.

When I originally talked to Marc about going for a sub-4, I told him I wouldn’t be upset if I didn’t make that goal and blame him. But I will be upset with myself if I go out too fast, can’t hold it and am way off a B or C goal.

After over thinking it — I had a lot of downtime at work this week — I finally had my strategy down.

The race plan: run the first half conservatively (~9:24 pace for a <4:06 finish) and then step it up a notch in the second half if I’m feeling good.

THE LA MARATHON GOALS:
A goal: <4:06
B goal: <4:09
C goal: <4:23, PR

If you want to track my progress on Sunday morning you can follow on twitter (@cindylu) where my 10K, 20K, 30K, 40K splits and finish time will be posted. You can also sign up to track runners (I’ll post the links in the comments since editing in WP is weird). My bib number is 10676.

I went out for an easy five miler this evening. It was my first time out of my apartment and away from my laptop for more than 10 minutes. I needed that run after spending several hours trying to make progress on my dissertation and only have a few pages to show for it.

The run was good. Even better, as I ran near the local elementary school I heard a man call out, “Good luck on Sunday!”

Those four words snapped my attention away from the podcast playing on low volume through my earbuds (Slate’s Culture Gabfest). I had just a moment to yell back, “Thanks!”

I’m not sure he heard me as he drove in the opposite direction.

As I continued my run, I wondered how he could tell I was training for the LA Marathon. Maybe he had just seen signs about road closures a few miles north in Beverly Hills and the race was on his mind. I thought about how those four words were much better than January’s drive-by egging. I thought about identity (again, back to the dissertation) and how being recognized by others is part of identity development. I’ve labeled myself as a runner for a couple of years, but today a stranger saw me and figured I was running the marathon on Sunday. I wasn’t even wearing the traffic cone orange 2011 LA Marathon tech tee. I had plenty of time to over think those four words as I ran for another half hour.

My drive-by well-wisher probably just wanted to offer some encouragement.

It worked.

Last year, I ran the LA Marathon in a fierce storm. I was wet and cold for over four hours, but I didn’t complain even when I had to stop at an aid tent for a band-aid for my bloody ankles. The band-aid came off after five minutes.

The rain made the race more interesting, the chafing worse, and the post-race period awful. In hindsight, it wasn’t that bad running through rain. I felt like badass for running through this. (Afterward was a whole different story, I was miserable. It took me a long time to feel warm again even after changing in to dry clothes and drinking some tea.)

It was good to experience. I don’t want to do it again, but I might have to.

I checked the 10-day forecast on Friday. I laughed when I saw this. It can’t be as bad as last year. I’d rather have this than lots of sunshine and predicted highs in the 70s and 80s like it’s been recently.