State Number 39 - Carmel Marathon

State Number 39 – Carmel Marathon

Carmel, IN

31 March 2018

 

“That’s the thing about running – your greatest runs are rarely measured by racing success.  They are moments in time when running allows you to see how wonderful your life is.” – Kara Goucher, American long distance runner.

I think of springtime as a balance between global extremes – winter and summer.  I believe the vernal equinox is a perfect time to pause, adjust and invite more balance and fluidity to my running endeavors.

State Number 39!  My path-blazing quest is nigh.  Still reeling from a difficult tour through the Palmetto and Sunshine States, I fought through the time between Florida and Indiana with some sort of training regimen by logging some quality miles during my post-race recovery period.

To some degree, I felt delusional about what I did to organize myself for Carmel.  I considered my last two marathons simply as LSD runs serving as motivation to train well, ensuring better preparedness for this race.  Will this ensure a BQ?  Nope, that’s a senseless thought; however, my likelihoods for a sub-five hour marathon are much greater – as long as the weather does not compare to Florida.

Instead of our customary LAX departures, the most economical flights to Indianapolis originated out of San Francisco International (SFO).  With a slight learning curve to this relatively new locale, we found the parking locations in the vicinity of the airport somewhat easier and more convenient than LAX, albeit, a tad pricier.

It was wheels up shortly after 0740 for a 3.5-hour non-stop Virgin America Airlines flight to Indianapolis (IND).  It was a somewhat chilly but partly cloudy day upon our arrival at IND.  It was tough trading eighty-degree California springtime weather (we call them California classics) for late winter-like weather of the Midwest, but hey, the warm weather will be waiting for me when I return home.

The weather in the Midwest during late March/early April comes with a large degree of changeability – ranging from snow, freezing rain, severe weather, tornados, to delightful sunny days – justifying our chilly reception.  But, looking on the bright side, the chilly air makes for ideal running.

After securing our mode of transportation, it was only a forty-minute drive from IND to Carmel along I-465 beltway around Indianapolis.

Approximately 3.5 hours from where I live in California lies the central coast city of Carmel (officially Carmel-by-the-Sea) and home to the acclaimed Big Sur Marathon.  We left coasters pronounce it as car-MEL.  However; I assumed Carmel, IN had the same pronunciation, but it immediately became apparent it’s pronounced CARmel, similar to the chewy candies.  Yes, I know what happens when one assumes.

Carmel's location on the globe

On the face of it, Carmel appears to be a rapidly growing and sprawling community of around 100,000 persons positioned on the north side of Indianapolis, and is the site of this steadily growing-in-popularity marathon.  A revitalized downtown area bounded on the east and west sides by a decorative arch frame spanning Main Street proudly displays “Carmel Arts & Design District.”  With dozens of traffic circles (roundabouts), traffic on Carmel streets appear to move efficiently, improving safety, reducing delays and eliminating the need for signalized or four-way stop intersections.  For drivers not accustomed to them, they can be a little challenging and intimidating to navigate.

Sometimes, I want to give up, really, I do.  At this point, I can do nothing else but admit outright that at times I don’t know what I’m doing.  After ten years of running and fifty-six marathons under my belt, countless different training plans and goals, I finally learned that the sport is too varied and unpredictable to truly harness.  Some super-human and the indefatigable runners like Dean Karnazes, Shalane Flanagan or Ryan Hall have managed to tame the marathon.  But I am not Dean, Shalane or Ryan.  I have yet to tame the marathon distance, but I’m not going to give up now.  It’s too late in the game for such foolishness.

This might sound a little melodramatic, so I have to back up and explain.  During the second week of February, I successfully completed, if one could call it that, two marathons in one weekend – a double marathon weekend mind you.  Though I mostly “took it easy” in the first one stopping the clock at 5:12, the second one was anything but easy with heat, humidity, blazing sun and intense blister pain on both feet, fortunate enough to break the self-confidence and morale-busting six-hour barrier.  I spent the rest of February and most of March with only a handful of short runs and a local half marathon during my post-race recovery time managing to keep any aches and pains at bay while still logging enough miles to stay reasonably fit.  However, I wasn’t able to run more than 10-20 miles a week without taunting fate.  

Just one week prior

I looked forward to running Carmel as a way to redeem myself from my previous two performances.  I’m now at peace with those finish times and consider them simply as statistical outliers, but as time goes on, I expect my performances to revert back towards my mean finishing time.  As the month advanced without a single long run exceeding much over the half marathon distance, I felt my expectations gradually wane.

Just one week before traveling to Carmel, a storm blanketed the area with over ten inches of snow, prompting winter storm warnings for a number of central Indiana counties making us wonder if we will, once again, be running during a significant snowfall event comparable to our experience at Garden Spot, PA (State No. 22).  However, as the week progressed, the weather patterns changed to heavy rains triggering snow accumulations to melt, thus winter warnings suddenly shifted to flood warnings.  OMG!  What are we in for?

Besides fearing bad weather or waterlogged streets as I entered race week, my plan was simple – get in some quality runs or two, eat well, hydrate, and get ample rest.  My race strategy, simple – not suffer, don’t go out too fast, stick with a practical pace group and to finish in under five hours.  Further, with five additional marathons scheduled to round out this year (not including any locally run half marathons) needed to complete my 50-state quest by the end of 2019, I plan to minimize the post-marathon recovery times by not overdoing myself.

How did my plan go?  I managed to eat well (mostly), hydrate, and squeeze in one medium distance run.  My rest could be considered a bust, including the night before the race (typical for me).  My weight was not within the range I wanted (under 190), as useless pounds do make a difference over long distances.  Other than that, I’m ready to go.

The gymnasium at Carmel High School played host to the marathon expo.  Being in no particular rush, we had ample time to pick up our race swag and peruse the expo.  Packet pickup was simple and well-organized.  I don't know why I even bother spending much time perusing expos since I generally don't purchase anything, besides procuring pieces of apparel on rare circumstances, i.e., Boston.

I normally browse around to see if there is anything that grabs my attention.  The 26.2 with Donna Marathon expo was awesome, was huge, with all kinds of useful free stuff.  The Louisiana marathon was also pretty good, huge, and with all kinds of complimentary items.  On the other hand, the Carmel Marathon expo was small, but had the usual players, local vendors and event merchandise you'd expect. 

After we arrived back at our hotel, I noticed I received a half marathon tech shirt.  I could not fathom wearing a half marathon shirt after all the work I do, so I drove back to the expo to exchange it.  As I walked back to the car, something told me to make sure I had the correct shirt.  Nope, another half shirt.  So back I went, but before leaving the shirt table, I made sure I had the correct one – I did.  From what I was voiced, marathon participants unknowingly acquired half marathon shirts.

We woke up around 0600 to the annoying sound of my phone alarm as it rudely interrupted my shut-eye.  It goes without saying, I didn’t sleep well that night.  I consumed my usual pre-race meal regimen consisting of two bananas, a bagel, and a granola bar.  Setting out my race gear the night before allowed me to quickly get things ready to go in the morning.  We arrived at the race site nearly an hour before the starting gun sounded, enough time to secure a parking spot close to the start/finish.  

We found parking was easy and uneventful with maybe a five-minute walk to the corrals – enough time to warm up my muscles and get the blood flowing.  The first thing on my list, find the line to the facilities so I could purge some of the fluids I had consumed even though I didn’t drink much water before the start. 

A large number of volunteers worked feverishly in the finish line area setting up barriers, tents, tables, medical supplies, pancake griddles and syrup dispensers.  I looked forward to having a stack of pancakes at the finish.  A rather lengthy line to the gear check table meandered through the busy finish line area.  With not a lot of time to spare, we passed up on gear check and secured our post-race clothing in our car as a standby.

I stood in the pre-dawn shadows of Carmel’s Palladium on City Center Drive, thrilled to be huddled with several hundred other runners.  The sun had yet to rise in the east.  Most runners dressed warmly, some braving the cold wearing only tanks and shorts.  With most runners donning earbuds protruding from their lobes, listening to their favorite set of tunes, paid little attention to their surroundings as they waited for the sound of the starting gun. 

Start line under beautiful morning sky

The biting breezes sliced through the city, channeled by the large buildings in and around the cultural arts complex, ultimately piercing through my running apparel.  I shuffled my feet while blowing warm air into my gloves and being clustered in a group of people does take the edge off the crispness and sharpness of the air. 

The eighth running of the Carmel Marathon was all but underway with a new revised course layout and start time of 0800 (kind of late, especially during a warm/sunny day).  There I stood, just another soul lumped in with looked like maybe 1800 full, half, 8K and 5K runners all eager to begin their respective epic journeys through Carmel’s enigmatic roads and trails.  The serious runners, each one with hopes of winning the race, lined up at the front of the corral appearing eager to start, jumping up and down while lifting their knees to their chests.  For me, conserved my energy by remaining in a standing position stretching my hamstrings and quads.

The new and improved course consists of two separate thirteen-mile loops.  The first thirteen miles of the marathon course is run with the half marathoners.  Full marathoners bypass the finish line similar to Newport, Rhode Island (State No. 30), ugh not a pleasant sight, but to complete the final thirteen miles, it had to be done.  See course map here. 

The second half (or loop) takes runners to new sections of Carmel deviating from prior years’ routes and incorporates a large section of the scenic Monon Greenway, thereby removing sections of busy vehicular traffic.

Before the large pack of runners could cross the start line, we had to stand through their pre-race ceremony.  The first order of business?  The race director suspended high above the street on a cherry picker acknowledged how many states and countries were represented in the race. 

After the patriotic sounds of God Bless America followed by the Star Spangled Banner, the runners seemed enthused to hear the final pre-race announcements and concluding thoughts – NOT.  We were ready to go.  Shortly, it was “ready, set…GO!”  Ready or not, my fifty-sixth marathon was underway.  Each succeeding corral started in thirty second intervals.

My pre-race plan included going out with the 4:25 pace group led by Pacer Cathy.  With the cool weather, I felt confident I could maintain the 10:06 pace needed to finish around 4:25. 

I positioned myself near the front of my pre-assigned corral (Corral C) with Pacer Cathy and a group of runners eager to begin the journey.  Besides being an ultra-runner enthusiast, she was fun, energetic, encouraging and wanted her group to succeed with their personal time goals.

Understandably, it was pretty slow at first, maneuvering trying not to clip someone from behind, but things moved out pretty quickly.  The field opened up enough within the first half mile heading south on Rangeline Road where I had room to jostle into a spot with equally paced runners.  I had to focus on the group pace no matter how slow, but occasionally I found myself nudging ahead of the group.

Over the first mile, I settled in for the long race set before me happy someone else was the day’s rabbit (I know what it feels like).  The first mile seemed to “fly” by at 10:03, a tad under the required pace.  After clocking in at 10:13 at Marathon Mile 2, I thought, "What the heck are we doing?  We need to pick up the pace a little.”  With the next mile at 9:55, I immediately got the impression our pace times were going to be all over the place and inconsistent.  Overall, I felt great, feeling as if I was harnessing some energy from Philippides in the meantime.  Perhaps I didn’t want to as the well-worn legend goes, he took his last breath and died when he finished his infamous run.

Note pace group in background

The course was somewhat flat for the first five miles until the Hazel Dell Parkway when small undulating hills, rising then falling, leading to an ascent of the “Swiss Alps” in a beautiful residential district at Marathon Mile 7.  A nice woman stood at the street corner at the “summit” offering Swiss chocolates to passing runners.  I have a weakness for chocolate, I love chocolate, but the thought of chocolate in the midst of running didn’t sit well with my appetite.

I enjoyed hanging with the pace group talking with runners from around the country.  The camaraderie of the runners seemed to make the miles shorter and the discomfort of running much more tolerable.

At around Marathon Mile 10, I couldn’t believe my eyes.  There sat a fellow perched atop a bicycle dressed in the brightest fluorescent orange suit and top hat I’ve ever seen (in fact, it’s the only orange suit I’ve seen).  He happily greeted runners as they made their way around a traffic circle.  Many exclaimed they liked his suit, but needed sunglasses to view it.  I agreed.  He was definitely bright. 

The course deviated from Smokey Row Road onto the Hagen-Burke Trail at Carmel High School’s football stadium and sports compound.  Being off pace by around thirty seconds at this juncture, I began to have doubts whether we would cross the half marathon point under the requisite 2:12:30.  But, I kept plugging along, enjoying the scenery and the slower pace.  I chalked it up as energy conservation.

One of the problems I have running slower is this – every runner has a natural stride length and cadence/leg turnover.  For me to slow down (or speed up), one of these has to change.  Shortening the stride and slowing the cadence tends to be too bouncy and can waste energy and can be hard on my knees and ankles.  So, I found it hard to maintain the current stride length and leg turnover.  I wanted to crank up the pace to my natural stride, but I focused on staying with the group. 

Eventually as the miles tick by, my form and stride tend to degrade into a geriatric shuffle.  Well, maybe not that bad, but running efficiency goes out the window when fatigue increases.  That, my friends, makes the second half of the race interesting...and I mean second half in the sense the first half is twenty miles, whereas, the second half is the final ten kilometers.

The short-lived Hagen-Burke Trail ended and merged with the city’s prominent Monon Greenway, also marking the full and half marathon’s final mile.

Main Street statuaries

The flat greenway pedestrian and bicycle trail joined up with Main Street at Bub’s Burgers through the Carmel Arts & Design District, passing various clever real-life statuary mounted on the street’s sidewalks.  With the pacer abruptly picking up the pace at this point, we crossed the “AmeriFirst Sprint to the Finish” timing mat – more on that later – indicating one-half mile to go.  It was a slight uphill grade (maybe three percent, but very noticeable) with a resilient gusty headwind.  With the faster pace, several runners began dropping from the group, but I kept up, secretly monitoring if we were going to be under 2:12:30.

I crossed the half marathon split timing mat registering a time of 2:12:28 good for a 9:48 pace over the last mile.  That was close and I could sense the concerned look on the pacer’s face.

By passing the half way point, it was time reduce the pace, hydrate and eat some nutrition before rejoining the Monon Greenway.  I ingested two energy gel packs downing it with two cups of water and self-administering two acetaminophen tablets to subdue any upcoming pain.  I was ready to tackle the second loop.

The next three and a half miles were spent on the Monon trail navigating inclines and tunnels over and under major highways before terminating at 96^th Street.  I felt like I was on an endless treadmill with leafless trees, bushes and dense vegetation on each side.  The slower pace permitted some of the previously dropped runners to rejoin the group, but at times I found my natural cadence leading myself ahead of the group, forcing me to slow down.  I think the caffeine in my pain pills gave me an added boost of energy.

The air temperature warmed slightly forcing me to slow down after Marathon Mile 17 to remove my gloves and roll up my sleeves to dissipate some of the heat energy building up inside me.  The slower pace allowed me to rejoin Cathy’s group.

I stayed with the group until around Marathon Mile 20 when my left calf muscle began to cramp and tighten causing terrible pain with each step.  I couldn’t run through or ignore it, so I reluctantly began walking with hopes the pain would subside.  The pace sign Pacer Cathy always held above her head quickly faded from view.

The walking time gave me a chance to converse with a fellow Maniac hailing from the St. Louis area.  He was in the process of running the fifty states with Indiana being his twelfth state.  I gave him some pointers, marginal advice and possible marathons he may consider on his quest.  He faced a dilemma – does he drink some craft beer at a pub after the marathon or buy some bottles to take home?

After nearly a mile of walking (14:08 pace), I found my calf hurting less prompting me to begin my running regime.  I wished the Maniac luck on his fifty states pilgrimage and bade him farewell.  On a side note, I advised him to buy some bottles of craft beer, drive and get home sooner, since his wife drives slower than he does.

I resigned to the fact I was well behind my pace group with a zero chance of catching them.  I conceded to running my own race for the “second half” trying to maintain a ten-minute pace, but, disappointingly, my calf disallowed me from picking up the pace too much.

At Marathon Mile 23.5 and another short and unwelcomed incline, the route once again linked up with the Monon Greenway for another mile and a half or so to the Arts & Design District on Main Street.  I was feeling remarkably well, enough to preserve a 10:45 pace.

As I approached Bub’s Burgers at the end of the Monon Greenway at Main Street, a light cold precipitation began to fall.  I was running alone focused on finishing strong, calculating a finish time of around 4:35.  I looked forward to the “AmeriFirst Sprint to the Finish” timing mat just ahead at Marathon Mile 25.7 to begin a solid and sustained increase in my pace.  I felt I had it in me and the challenge gave me the inspiration and motivation to finish strong, leg pain and all.

The sprint to the finish is a new challenge incorporated into the race that pays cash prizes to runners who record the biggest difference between their overall pace compared to their last half-mile split time pace (25.7 mi to 26.2 mi).  The top three finishers with the greatest difference will have a pleasant surprise in their mailbox containing prize money.

I didn’t pin my hopes on winning any money since I figured I would need to run around a five-minute mile pace.  That was not going to happen given the head wind, the uphill grade, my fatigue level, and calf discomfort.  I consider the challenge is geared towards the slower paced runners who can muster up enough energy and sprint the remaining half mile.  Whereas, the faster runners may find it next to impossible to exceed their pace by two, three or four minutes.

I rounded the traffic circle and picked up my pace to around nine minutes, leaving it all on the course to the top of the hill and the final turn to a welcomed 100-meter downhill stretch to the finish line clocking in at 4:36:17, slower than what I had hoped for, but satisfying nonetheless, giving me some hope and confidence for my next challenge at Hogeye Marathon in Arkansas.

Age graded score: 54.44%

Age graded time: 3:59:00

Average time: 4:16:43

Standard deviation: 0:53:08

 

To my dismay, the “after-party” at the finish line was a huge disappointment, to say the least.  The website promotes that pancakes are served to ALL participants along with a beer garden and to be sure to bring ID to gain entry.  However, the only items left were some water bottles; plastic grocery bags containing granola bars, Oreos, and Chip Ahoy cookies; and some bananas.  The beer garden was nowhere to be seen and the pancake griddles have since been dismantled.  I can only conclude that the 5K, 8K and half marathoners consumed all the pancakes and drank all the beer.  Sure, blame it on the cold, breezy and damp weather.

"The End" burger at Bru Burgers

Three steps after crossing the timing mats, it seemed as if my legs became encased in concrete with each joint feeling swollen.  My knees, heels, feet and even the tendon connecting my left calf to the Achilles tendon was stiff and sore.  But as you might imagine, I was far away, stuck between pride and confusion, elation and wonder.  I limped all the way to the car and reveled in taking a load of my tired dogs on our way to the hotel where I showered and changed at a sloth’s pace before I quenched my unending hunger at Bru Burger Bar with my wife, who was enjoying equal success, having earned herself a sub-four hour marathon once again and punching another ticket to Boston.

As I bit into Bru Burger’s juicy burger fittingly named “The End,” I reflected fondly on the marathon and my accomplishments thus far.  The goal is always to come into a marathon hoping to bring down my personal best and qualify for Boston.  I always visualize it, but it’s always the same – doom.

One of these days, just maybe, my legs will have the optimal amount of fresh and rest.  Or perhaps my desire for redemption will someday override the pain synapses from reaching my brain.  Either way, maybe I will be one minute closer to Boston.

I thought, “Not a bad way to conclude a marathon.”  We paid the tab and winced back to the car as nearly every single part of my legs screamed in distress and discomfort.  Not bad at all.

Our flight back to SFO departed IND in the afternoon hours of Easter Sunday in advance of an upcoming snow event that swept through the area – no April Fool’s joke.  Easter is not a favorable day for touring or experiencing the sights and sounds of Indianapolis as anyone can imagine.  In the meantime, as the temperature dropped hour by hour, we used our surplus time to see the USS Indianapolis Memorial, the state capitol (from the outside), President Harrison’s home and the Soldiers and Sailors Monument.  Unlike Daytona, a tour of the Brickyard was not in the cards this time.  Besides, it was closed anyway.

Closest to the Brickyard I will get

Sights of Indy

What are some of my final thoughts?  I have to say I really enjoyed the course, with just a few areas of concern (though not worth mentioning specifics).  It can be said that the course is flat, but, personally, I would consider it a rolling course instead.  The hills weren’t too bad, except for a short climb up the “Swiss Alps”.  I have never been to Carmel in my life, so I can absolutely say for certain that the course went places I've never seen.  

The volunteers were plentiful, and I was thankful for so many water stops, all labeled in alphabetical order.  I did not like the fact that there were no nutrition stops (GU, Cliff Shots, Honey Stingers, etc.) along the course.  I had swigs of water and electrolytes to fuel my reserves at almost every water stop, but it was up to each runner to bring their own nutrition. 

I was appreciative of the wonderful cool weather thanks to a cold front moving through the area and the sun was kept at bay behind the clouds for nearly the entire race, except for the first two or three miles, making for ideal running weather.

The rest of the race was uneventful, even though I lost sight of Pacer Cathy at Marathon Mile 20 due to intolerable calf cramping, it gave me an opportunity to give my old body a brief respite.  I felt as if I never had any dark places as I have had in prior races.  Overall, I felt pretty good.  The speed wasn't there due to lack of training, but I was okay with that and I never pushed my heart rate too far.

I write these blogs to help capture what I did, what I learned and how well I performed.  As with all my other marathon reviews, if you’re still with me at this point, I’m impressed.  If it helps others (or just entertains or puts you to sleep at 0300 without the use of drugs), all the better. 

 

Even with all the aches and pains associated with running, I have this one life to appreciate the thrill of running or finishing a marathon, and for that, I’m extremely grateful.  Perseverance is the name of the game and that’s what I need to finish my mission.

 

“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet.  Try to make sense of what you see and about what makes the universe exist.  Be curious.  And however difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do, and succeed at.  It matters that you don’t just give up.” – Stephen Hawking, physicist.