I love Savannah! And new PR!

I absolutely love the city of Savannah, Georgia! I have loved it since I first came down with my good friend and former roommate, Michael Dillon, who grew up on Isle of Hope and graduated from Benedictine Military School. For years, we would march in the St. Patrick's Day Parade with the parade committee, which is dad and uncles served, and it was a lot of fun. We'd have breakfast at his club before the parade where I would regularly be "fined" for such offenses as being from the North, being a liberal, not being actually Irish, and other reasons - all in good-natured humor. The parade took us through the downtown section of the city, dressed in our sport coats and green ties, passed the usual spot where his family would park to watch, and we would finish near the hotel where we stayed (I think the Hilton) and then head back to watch the parade with his family. After, at our hotel we would join the Robertson family luncheon before resting for a bit in anticipation of hitting River Street that night. I did this for many years and hadn't been in almost five years - combined with the allure of an inaugural race and the chance to visit one of my favorite cities with some of my favorite people, how could I not run? I planned this marathon earlier in the year when Rock N Roll series offered a half off special that I took advantage of - even though I wasn't sure which fall race I would try to qualify for Boston. Having run 3:07:36 in Pocatello, Idaho, nine weeks earlier, I was free of the pressure of trying to qualify for Boston since I not only qualified but my time was accepted, and I am registered for the race on April 16, 2012. With that "monkey off my back" I was free to simply enjoy the race with little pressures. I arrived Friday around 2 and noticed that Marianne from my running club was on my flight. She was going to run the half along with Lindsey in my club. I had a rental car and drove us to the expo then dropped them at their hotel before checking in to my Best Western on Abercorn. Needing a pasta dinner, I went to Bella's, a local favorite, and seeing the long line ordered take-out, which I came back for after a quick stop to the food market around the corner for bagels, bananas, and water. It was a very low key dinner alone in my hotel room as I prepared for the race, took a bath to relax, and went to bed.

On race morning, I awoke at 4am, ate a bagel, hopped in the shower (which I find relaxes my muscles and feels so good before a race), and gathered my stuff to head to the Savannah Mall where a bus took runners to the start of the race. I hung out in the Marriott with charity runners glad in purple before heading to my corral, which was at the front of the race. The race started right by city hall, which is lit green for St. Patrick's Day, and after the usual pre-race announcements, encouragements, prayer, and pledge, we were sent on our way. My plan was simple: hold a 7 minute per mile pace as long as possible. I raced the Army Ten Miler four weeks earlier and tied my personal best of 65:32, and I knew I was in good shape considering my taper went according to plan. I also felt confidence I hadn't in past races because now I knew that I could run a sub 3:10. I smiled most of the way, enjoyed the city, the Spanish moss, and just kept focusing on my breathing, my form (good form will save you every time), and the song stuck in my head (Foster the People's "Pumped up Kicks" which worked in Idaho). My refuel strategy was to take water or Gatorade at almost each stand and to Gu (chocolate outrage) at 6, 12.5, and 19. The course was mostly flat, there was a breeze, but it wasn't bad while in the city, and the weather was a perfect mid 40's to start and never got above 50's. I stayed in my head most of the race, smiling at the spectators cheering us on, listening to the bands as I passed, and just enjoying that I was in a groove, that the pace was comfortable, and that if I stuck to my plan of just trying to get a sub-3:10, it would be a good day. I hit the ten mile mark in 69 minutes (I remember when my ten miler bet was 70 minutes!), crossed the half in 1:31, and trotted on to the next mini goal. I felt better than I had in Pocatello at the half and mile 17 so I pushed on knowing that if I blew up I already was registered for Boston. But, if I could hold my pace, I had a potential personal record breaking day. I had visions of 3:02 or 03 right up until the highway ramp coming back in to the city and the 15-20 mile per hour winds slowed my pace from close to 7 to almost 7:40. I regrouped for the last two miles and went into an all out sprint for the last quarter mile. I passed a guy down the stretch and stopped my watch right after the finish line and shouted, "Y'all, my back hurts, and I need a Coke!" as an homage to Michael's now-famous quote given to us after a parade nearly ten years ago. My official time is currently 3:05:01 with a caveat. My watch, started just before the start line and stopped just after the finish, read 3:05:00. That one second means something since the new Boston standard for open men (18-34) 2013 is 3:05:00, not 3:10, and there is no grace seconds of up to 59 seconds. Some runners were complaining their watch time was different than the official time, so I figured I would make my case to the race committee that I should have a 3:04:59 or 3:05:00. That one second matters, even though since I age up to 35 and my standard will be 3:10 in 2013, that one second will let me register a day early and give me the satisfaction of knowing I qualified under the toughest standards. Plus, as I was getting ready to make my finishing kick about 600 meters from the finish, a spectator crossed right in front of me forcing me to sidestep to avoid him and throwing me off my pace. I think I have a good case. Here are my splits = 7:00; 6:59; 6:58; 6:59; 6:50; 6:54; 6:58; 6:55; 6:57; 6:54; 6:55; 6:50; 6:52; 7:01; 7:04; 6:51; 6:49; 6:56; 7:03; 7:12; 7:18; 7:31; 7:39; 7:37; 7:14; 7:25; 1:24 (.24) NEW PR and BQ!

The rest of my time in Savannah was quite nice. I spent the afternoon with Michael's aunts, Shelley and Felice, and his Nana. It was good to catch up and hopefully next time I'll be able to see his folks and coordinate so he will be in town. I went out on River Street with my running club friends, and we ate dinner at Oceanside before going to Kevin Barry's - a great Irish pub with a live musician that Marianne thought was great. Around 11, exhausted and sleepy, I called it a night.

Savannah is a great city, and I am very pleased that my personal best was set at this inaugural race. Georgia is my ninth state, and G-d willing Boston will go well and I'll have my tenth state and enter the 50 State Club in April. I can't believe I have to wait six months for my next marathon!

BQ Coming Through... Thank You!

That was what I yelled (exuberantly yet politely) the last 2.2 miles of the Pocatello Marathon dodging 5K walkers as I neared the finish line. All marathoners are mathematicians toward the end of our races, and I had figured out that I could run a 9-10 minute per mile pace the rest of the way and still qualify for Boston. That knowledge was comforting and it injected more energy and excitement into me as I picked up the pace, as I churned my legs, and as I barreled heroically (in my mind) to the finish I had been dreaming about since my first marathon. It took seven years, sixteen marathons (MCM 2004, MCM 2005, San Diego RNR 2006, Richmond 2006, National 2007, Baltimore 2007, Philadelphia 2007, National 2008, Columbus 2008, National 2009, Philadelphia 2009, National 2010, Wineglass 2010, NYC 2010, Providence 2011, Pocatello 2011), eight different states plus the District (CA, VA, MD, PA, OH, NY, RI, ID + DC), 50+ pairs of sneakers (Nike Pegasus, Mizuno Wave Rider, Asics Gel Nimbus - all size 9.5), 20,000 miles run (estimated), and countless GU's, but I finally ran a Boston-qualifying time according to the open men's standard (18-34). I posted a new personal best of 3:07:36, three minutes faster than I needed and six minutes faster than my old personal best recorded last year. What an incredible journey it has been. I remember that day in 2004 when I signed up to run the Marine Corps Marathon on the last possible day they were accepting applications. Since it was a lottery, I figured there wasn't much of a chance I would get in, but a few days later arrived the email notifying me that I had a spot in the race. That meant I had to actually train for the race. And, before I joined DC Road Runners Club, my idea of training for a marathon consisted of running once a weekend for two hours. A few weeks before the marathon, the baseball playoffs were in full effect and the Red Sox had completed an amazing comeback on the Yankees, down three-games-to-none, to win a spot in the World Series. I was prepared to head up to Boston for what would be Games 6 and 7, which were October 30 and 31, since I wanted to be in Boston when the Sox finally won the World Series. But, when the Sox swept to win it in four games and I went out to St. Louis for Game 3, heading up to Boston wasn't in the cards anymore. And that meant I would be in town for the marathon on race day, Halloween Day 2011. The best advice I received going into that race was to not go out too fast. I took that to heart as I did my best to just run "easy." I remember sticking with a guy from the Boston-area the first couple of miles and into Georgetown. I remember doing a little walking on the course, and I remember the feeling of finishing and calling my folks to tell them I finished a marathon in a respectable four hours and ten minutes. How far I have come since! Grace Leonard, my running buddy, and I traveled to this race together, landing in Salt Lake City (after transferring in Houston), and staying near the airport. After the free breakfast at the hotel, we hopped into our rented red Mustang (upgraded for free) and drove north about two plus hours. We stopped for gas just over the state line and to admire the scenery. Once in Pocatello, we were all business: packet pick-up, hotel check-in, then we drove the course to get the feel. A nice dip in the hotel's hot tub by the pool, and we were ready for the race. (My only complaint was at the pasta dinner, they did not have marinara sauce, just meat sauce. As a vegetarian and runner, I expected a red sauce with no meat, thank you very much.) We should have returned to the place we got lunch earlier in the day - a tiny Italian restaurant in town that we adored. Race morning I rose bright and early and ate a bagel and banana. Grace dropped me off at the buses for the ride (she was running the half as a soccer injury curtailed her training), and it was a short drive to the start. Once there, we waited in the pitch black - I nudged a fellow runner to ask what those dotted lights in the sky were and he informed me they were stars to which I replied sarcastically, "Oh, we don't see many of those in DC!" The weather was cool and perfect for racing and since the bag drop-off was right by the start and only 600 runners were racing the full, it was easy to drop off my stuff minutes before the starting gun. When the gun did go off, it was still pitch black around 6:15 am, and away we went down the hill. Starting elevation was roughly 6000 feet above sea level and it dropped to 4500 feet by mile 15 then was mostly flat with a few hills the rest of the way. I was able to maintain a comfortable just-below-seven minute per mile pace with ease as I let gravity bring me down the hills, all while focusing on my breathing to make sure the altitude didn't affect my ability to get complete breaths. For the first couple of miles, I was running side-by-side with a 20's some young runner from the Boston area. He wanted to qualify for Boston, and from his past races, he sounds like quite the sprinter. I dropped him by the sixth mile and I heard he missed qualifying by a few minutes, but as I learned, there is always the next race. The first challenge I faced was the off-shoot road they made us run along by the seven mile marker. It was uphill, so a change for my legs, and then when you hit the turn-around, you are back to running downhill. I stayed in my zone, and just kept thinking about my breathing, my form (mid-foot strike, slight lean forward, arms up), and the song stuck in my head, "Pumped up Kicks" by Foster the People (You better run, better run!). I hit the ten mile mark right around 70 minutes (I remember racing my first Cherry Blossom Ten Miler in 70 minutes!), and then the next uphill occurred a mile before for the midway point. I passed Grace who was cheering for me and waiting for the half to start and shouted to her, "70 at the ten and 1:31 at the half." The loud roar of the crowd gave me a huge boost as I had my first visions of finally qualifying for Boston. At mile 14, a woman caught me running strong and I decided to stay with her, which I did until mile 17. She was holding a steady 7 minute pace, which was my goal, but I decided to let her go because I knew I was on pace for a BQ, but I didn't want to risk "blowing up." In retrospect, playing it safe may have cost me a few minutes, but I wasn't willing to gamble away Boston. She later went on to win the women's race. Doubt crept in near the 20 mile mark as my pace certainly slowed right around the start of the 10K race. I remember experiencing the fear that my race was falling apart as so many had before; but, this time I was able to remember my training and dial up some confidence. If I could just hold this pace, if I just kept churning my legs, if I just didn't quit I would come in under 3:10. Don't give up, just don't give up, Kenny! I hit the final hill where two guys were walking up and kept churning away - this may hurt, but quitting will feel worse - as I made it up and recollected myself by mile marker 23. By then, my legs were back, I did the math, and if I ran 9-10 minute miles or better the rest of the way, I would have my BQ! The more I knew Boston was in sight, the better I felt and the better I felt, the faster I could feel myself running... or so it felt. Just keep this pace, just keep running... and then, I hit the walkers from the 5K race! They crowded the roped area of the highway, so as politely as I could, I shouted, "BQ coming through - thank you!" And, they moved to pave a path for me as I hit the final bend in the road, and turned on to the straight-away where I could see the finish line. The most glorious, emotionally charged finish I have experience occurred as I was crossing the finish line, in 3:07:36, a new PR by almost six minutes and a BQ by more than three! I finally did it - after all the efforts and failures and training - it was finally a dream come true! I did it! I raced the perfect race and achieved my goal!

My splits: 6:50, 6:55, 6:55, 6:56, 6:53, 6:53, 7:00, 7:05, 7:01, 6:49, 6:59, 6:39, 7:07, 6:53, 7:09, 7:10, 7:17, 7:13, 7:11, 7:21, 7:29, 7:43, 7:28, 7:29, 7:49, 7:26, 1:54 (.31) I collected my phone and called my mother (she gets the first call). Both my parents told me how proud they were of me - no matter how old I am, my parents' words of approval still matter. I texted Grace my time, and a few minutes later she crossed and we both shared a jumping high-five hug knowing how important this was to me. I also learned that I was the 12th overall finisher and won second in my age group. The awards ceremony was long, but I didn't mind waiting to be acknowledged for my efforts. Three hours after crossing the finish, we headed back to the hotel for showers and changing. We found a microbrewery in town and enjoyed the sampler and a meal and then another beer. We played some mini golf and ate dinner at a Mexican place, both of us basking in our accomplishments. We were in bed early, and the next day ate breakfast at the hotel before checking out and heading to Park City then Salt Lake City for the rest of the weekend. I absolutely had a great time in Idaho at the race. For me, it was cathartic. I never realized my journey to Boston would take me into the hills of Idaho!