State Number 46
– Atlantic City Marathon
Atlantic City,
NJ
21 October 2018
Running
with shore-footedness along the Jersey shore – perhaps not the MTV series that
chronicles the lives of eight rollicking housemates in their vacation home –
but rather a marathon along the shore’s famed boardwalk. That’s where my next chapter and the small strides
into my quest takes me.
Atlantic
City’s connection with the Monopoly game gave Atlantic City its nickname,
“Monopoly City” and a popular Eastern Seaboard vacation destination. Monopoly landmarks, photos, and plaques sited
around Atlantic City are perpetual tokens of the time-tested board game. Besides the famous boardwalk and beach, some
tourists and beachcombers include Atlantic City on their vacation itinerary
simply because of the games’ connection with the city, but for runners, we see
the Jersey Shore as the home to this time tested long-standing marathon.
I
find at my age, realizing a runner’s two favorite letters, a PR, gets farther
and farther from happening as time passes.
By completing two full marathons in one weekend, I was either
setting myself up for failure or exhausting myself beyond comprehension and
spending the following week suffering from the debilitating effects of two
marathons.
In
the words of former long distance runner and exercise physiologist Pete
Pfitzinger, “If you have less than four weeks between marathons, you’re on your
own. Your main concern should be recovery, recovery, and more recovery,
not only from your first marathon but also from the lobotomy that led you to
come up with this plan.”
Why would anyone want to run a second marathon a day after the first? I’ve often ask myself that question. Maybe some of us in the running community run another due to a disappointing show in the first. But for this Fifty Stater, running a double is a matter of efficiency and time management in cranking out the states.
Why would anyone want to run a second marathon a day after the first? I’ve often ask myself that question. Maybe some of us in the running community run another due to a disappointing show in the first. But for this Fifty Stater, running a double is a matter of efficiency and time management in cranking out the states.
The Expo/Packet Pick-up – The Night Before
My
wife and I left Baltimore tired and fatigued with stiff and achy legs, and the thought
of another marathon in less than 24 hours didn’t stimulate my mojo. As we arrived at our hotel, Showboat Atlantic
City, 2.5 hours later, the last thing I wanted to do was exit the car. But, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
 |
| No casino! |
A
long line greeted us at the check-in desk at the New Orleans themed hotel, but something
was missing – no casino! I thought a
hotel without a casino would stave off most guests, maybe I was wrong. No smoke, no gambling, no losing money, no
hoopla, no problem.
With
little time to waste before the marathon expo closed up shop, I decided to walk
to the expo while my wife stayed back to check in. How far could it be?
Bally’s
Hotel hosted the marathon expo – purportedly a short walk from the
Showboat. As I began to walk along the
boardwalk towards Bally’s, it was anything but short. In fact, it was nearly one mile.
With
the setting sun directly in my line of sight and a cool breeze blowing in my
face, the last thing I needed was a two-mile walk – reeling with soreness and
discomfort. Perhaps a pleasant walk would
loosen up my muscles and assist with my short recovery period.
As
I arrived at Bally’s, one important question loomed – where is the expo in the
large hotel complex? After querying a
number of hotel employees, it was located in a small banquet room on the sixth
floor. The expo was small, typical of a
small low-key event with the usual players and purveyors of merchandise.
I
secured my race bib; however, to secure my wife’s bib, I needed to present her
ID, but she needed it at the hotel. With
a little convincing and charm, the race volunteer handed over her bib with a
smile on her face. I picked-up our event
shirts, but somehow exhausted their supply of men’s large sizes, so I ended up
with the last XL size. Great! Just what I need, a long-sleeved hoodie
polyester tech shirt that drapes over my shoulders. Oh well, I’ll find a use for it.
After
a long painful walk back to the Showboat, it was time to eat a pre-race meal and
turn in for the night. As always,
getting ample rest the night before a marathon can be a difficult task. Pre-marathon insomnia seems to be common for
me. I was tired, fatigued and sleepy-eyed,
so why was it so difficult for me?
On
top of the insomnia, crazy rambunctious people in the hallways and in
neighboring rooms, likely with a little too much alcohol in their system, were yelling
and slamming doors, enough to drive me to drink and piss-off anyone blessed
with good humor. So, I tossed the
“getting enough sleep before a marathon” rule out the window and salvaged what
I could. Since Kidd Rock canceled his
concert, I guess they needed something to do to let off some steam.
Let’s Do This
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| OMG. Do I have to? |
Morning came too quickly. With
sandman dropping out of our eyes, we insipidly packed up, loaded up the car and
drove to Bally’s to begin a new 26.2-mile journey along the Jersey shore.
With a marathon special rate of five dollars
to park in the resort garage, it was well worth a dreaded one-mile stroll along
the shore’s promenade.
Cold temperatures prevailed in the early morning hours, with strong
blustery northwesterly winds, something this Californian doesn’t experience
much. Sustained winds were in the 20-25
mph range gusting to over 40 mph. I
anticipated a wild marathon ride!
I usually do not wear a jacket while running since I quickly heat up. However, this day was different. I layered up with a running jacket and gloves
because of the cold wind. At first I
questioned whether I needed the additional layers, but at the end of the day,
I’m glad I wore them.
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| Yes, I have to. |
The 60th running of the Atlantic City Marathon begins on the springy
wood decking of the boardwalk in front of Bally’s Hotel and Casino at 0800
hours. A crowd of anxious and nervous
runners gathered inside the casino area sheltering themselves from the outside
elements, stretching, keeping warm, consuming last minute pre-race nutrition or
using the facilities. Shaking off my
last minute jitters, I wished I had brought my sunglasses to block the stiff
winds that kept all the runners bathed in cool refreshing Atlantic Ocean air. It was game time!
The first half: (10:26, 10:38, 11:20, 10:34, 10:35, 10:55, 13:36,
11:02, 12:15, 11:40, 13:56, 12:41, 12:25)
The starting line scene became a little chaotic at first. As the gates opened, it was a mad rush for
runners to herd into the corral. Some
climbed over the metal barricades whiles others patiently waited their turn to
enter.
The marathon began promptly at 0800 on the boardwalk. After a few deep breaths of the cold air, the
National Anthem played and an air horn sounded followed by a barrage of Garmin watches
beeping and we were off! Full and half marathon
runners began the race simultaneously driving themselves for about 100 yards
before veering off the boardwalk onto MLK Blvd with a slight left onto Bacharach
Blvd near Marathon Mile 1.
I felt somewhat stiff and sore at first, but within the first mile, I
limbered up and sensed I could stay in control of myself and not go out so fast
– similar to an easy stroll.
I kept pace with the 4:40 pace group up an overcrossing that transitioned
onto the Atlantic City – Brigantine connector and into the controversial 2,000-foot
long tunnel under Horace Bryant Park.
Being in a tunnel while staying connected with the global GPS isn’t an
ideal circumstance, but my Garmin somehow maintained a solid fix.
The 4:40 pace group didn’t leave my sight as runners entered Renaissance
Point and through the Borgata and Harrah’s resort hotel multiplexes. My legs began to feel the effects from
Baltimore around Marathon Mile 5, but still pushed myself knowing this would likely
bite me in the end. I began to recall
the adage, “Whatever time you take off at the front end gets added on at the
back end – with interest!”
Soon, I crossed paths with the 4:50 pacer. I realized I needed to reduce my pace until
the half marathon split, but I know it was perhaps too late. This was suddenly becoming a “hang on and
hope for the best” run. I crossed the
ten kilometer split on Melrose Avenue with a time of 1:07:30.
With a left onto New Hampshire Avenue, runners proceeded towards the
Atlantic City Aquarium with a brief out-and-back at the King Neptune statue while
a man dressed in traditional Scottish attire entertained runners with bag
pipe music at the foot of the statue at Marathon Mile 7.
Following the brief out-and-back, runners proceeded in a southeasterly
direction along New Hampshire to a ramp leading to the most northerly portion
of the boardwalk at Marathon Mile 7.75.
Running on the boardwalk was slow, tedious and simply, long. While it was an OK day for running,
spectators bundled up in heavy layers likely found that the cold wind made for
a torturous day. The boardwalk offered
no shade and my pace felt harder and harder to maintain. The boards were soft and some were even
loose, wobbly and rotten.
As runners paraded down the wide boardwalk, the course was not specifically
cordoned-off and marked for running lanes, so spectators, beachcombers and
runners had to coexist. Spectators
generally kept to the side, but other beach enthusiasts leisurely strolling the
boardwalk, having no idea a marathon taking place, succeeded in transecting and
crisscrossing some runners’ paths.
Shortly after Marathon Mile 9, runners are blessed with passing by the
finish line in a crowded narrow lane – demoralizing in some fashion. As I approached the finish line area, half
marathon runners paraded in the opposite direction down the boardwalk with
smiles on their faces indicating they were done bucking the headwinds and can
enjoy their post-race merriments. For
me, I still had seventeen miles left of my windy and turbulent adventure, in
the meantime, dodging the half marathon runners, spectators and other boardwalk
pedestrians.
The remaining 3.5 miles were strictly boardwalk running. The half marathon turnaround was located just
after Marathon Mile 11 when the number of runners markedly thinned out making
for lonely running. The winds were
fierce and gusty and I seemed to be holding my hat in my hand a majority of the
time so it wouldn’t blow off into the adjacent dunes. At around Marathon Mile 12, I noticed a
motorcycle cop with its blue and red lights flashing as it approached me. It had to be one thing, the lead marathon
runner. To distract my wary mind, I quickly
computed an impressive 2:30 finish for him.
When I feel fatigued and tired, I have a tendency to put my head down and “just
run” when I seem like I’ve had enough. The
diagonal herringbone board pattern of the boardwalk made me feel dizzy at times,
but also minimized the wind and sand grains ravaging my face. Yes, one could say I was ready to pack it in
by the time the course departed the boardwalk at Washington Avenue in the city
of Ventnor City, but I had still thirteen miles to go, and best of all, no more
boardwalk – at least for a while. At
this point, I saw the lead female runner whiz by me as I crossed the half split
in a time of 2:36. I was in the head
down mode as I veered onto Atlantic Avenue and into some mutable nasty
cross-winds. I kept telling myself, “I’m
not quitting. I’m doing this!”
The second half: (12:56, 12:57, 12:59, 14:51, 13:44, 12:50, 13:13, 12:19, 14:46, 15:20, 12:28, 14:06, 13:05, 12:22 projected pace [final 0.41 mi])
Suffice it to say, each mile after the half split was slow. Every time I broke into an energetic jog, the stiffness from the previous day would singe into my legs forcing myself into a slower but consistent jog. In that time, the one thing I managed to do very quickly was burn through the five stages of grief.
The second half: (12:56, 12:57, 12:59, 14:51, 13:44, 12:50, 13:13, 12:19, 14:46, 15:20, 12:28, 14:06, 13:05, 12:22 projected pace [final 0.41 mi])
Suffice it to say, each mile after the half split was slow. Every time I broke into an energetic jog, the stiffness from the previous day would singe into my legs forcing myself into a slower but consistent jog. In that time, the one thing I managed to do very quickly was burn through the five stages of grief.
Denial: This
can’t be happening. This is my thing,
running is MY thing, and I’ve proven to be worthy of my accomplishments. There’s no way that this discomfort of a
double is really such a big deal – I’ve don’t it before. I just need to keep running to loosen up my
muscles. After that, everything will just click. All pains eventually go away, the wind will be
at my back side, so it’s just a matter of ignoring these little hiccups, steal
yourself, use mind over matter, and pretend they don’t exist. Just keep moving.
Anger: Ow,
ow, ow, this is bulls**t and not working. Although I put in a minimal amount of training
for this weekend, still I should be able to complete another marathon without a
single major issue. There’s no reason
why my adductor muscle should be hurting this much. I was fine in Baltimore, so why start now? I didn’t even push myself yesterday and
suddenly it’s punking out like it’s never experienced a race before? Unbelievable. Ow, ow, ow…
Bargaining: You
know, if I switch my gait to my old, maligned heel-strike, then I can actually
pick it up a little. Maybe I can stay
with this run/walk business until the end. Can I hobble the full distance? I need
not worry about missing our hotel check-out. I know I wouldn’t be able to shower until I
got back to Baltimore – is that such a bad thing though? Is it too much to ask my wife to wait and then
endure the mephitic odor of an unwashed runner in the car for over two hours as
we drive back to Baltimore when I can finally shower?
Depression: This
sucks. And the wind really sucks. I came all the way here and now I think about
bailing? There’s a reason that many
runners re-brand DNS from “Did Not Start” to “Did Nothing Stupid” and I’m about
to discover just what “stupid” is. Man,
each step hurts; this is a bunch of crap – the wind is a bunch of crap. People are going to give me that smirk and
tell me SEE? They KNOW running is bad
for your muscles and joints, and the proof was in my gelatinous-like pace. I hope people and other runners aren’t staring
at me. I know, I may be walking this mile, thanks for your concern, but
please move along, enjoy your run – maybe I’ll see you at the finish. The absolutely last thing I want to do is to
come back for a New Jersey do-over.
Acceptance: …or
do I? This slower pace and awkward
stride is actually working pretty well. In
fact, I most certainly can keep this up for the residual miles and stay on
track for all fifty states. Every stride
I take is one less I have to do. Hopefully
I can chat with someone to kill time. It
wasn’t my original plan, but if I stop running and go home now, I’ll be very
upset at myself. I’m not alright with calling it quits and doing perhaps
just a “half” marathon. I know I’m slow when
faced with the resistance of two marathons.
As long as I continue on, I’ll be fine.
I’ll count the hours until I can sit in the car and travel back to
Baltimore.
I
would love to say that a smile burst from my appearance as I waltzed happily during
the remaining miles. Instead, I was
locked in a grimace, a vestigial emotion leftover from the anger phase. Denial was quickly overcome – there was no
getting past the obvious discomfort I felt. I bargained with my goals and ultimately
accepted that I would rather not crawl or get a ride to the finish, kill my
enjoyment of the event and ruin everyone’s plans. But anger would ultimately stick around for
several thousand more cadence strides.
It
wouldn’t be until Marathon Mile 16 that I began to feel as if I could “run” again
as I swallowed some caffeine pills and sucked down some nutrition gels. I wasn’t in the clear, as my adductor muscle
discomfort was still giving me nuisance pains, but it was no longer feeling
like it was getting worse.
 |
| At the turnaround! Note flag whipping in background |
The out-and-back section of Atlantic Avenue terminated in the city of
Longport at the Great Egg Harbor Inlet at Marathon Mile 16. The winds seemed even fiercer after the
turnaround. I just wanted to be
done! I was tired of the wind, my legs
felt like shredded meat and I constantly argued with myself to keep moving no
matter how much pain I felt. Walking
doesn’t allow me to resume running again.
I had to keep moving. It took a
lot of willpower, self-discipline and pleading with my body to get me through.
At Marathon Mile 17, the course deviated toward the harbor waterfront for
yet another four-mile out-and-back section.
I saw my wife pass by me in the other direction chatting away with
another runner as she approached Marathon Mile 21. “Yikes,” I thought. “She’s four miles ahead of me!”
The course looped around Jerome Avenue Park in Margate City. I caught a great tail wind that propelled me
to a faster pace. I took full advantage
of the tail wind until merging back onto Atlantic Avenue when I once again confronted
a head or cross wind for the next two miles, quickly extinguishing my internal
flame. Need I mention the steep camber
of Atlantic Avenue?
As I once again joined the boardwalk at Marathon Mile 23, I faced
incredibly difficult running. I had five
kilometers remaining on this unexciting and mind-numbing walkway of the herringbone
pattern design. I kept my pace slow and
steady and finally able to converse with two other runners who have finished
the fifty states. It was helpful to gain
some insight which marathons they recommend in my remaining four states.
For me, the final miles were exceptionally challenging. Not only was it sunny, hot and windy, but the
boardwalk was crowded with people who didn’t seem to realize or care there was
a marathon going on and I had to weave my way through groups of people. I couldn’t even tell who was ahead of me as
runners blended in with non-runners.
The inflatable arch marking the finish line was ahead, but didn’t seem to
get any bigger. I was running and
running, pushing the pace with what little oomph I had left, but it seemed as
if I was running on a treadmill, not getting any closer. I kept my eyes focused on Bally’s and again on
the arch, and there I was, dashing my way down the chute passing several other
runners while hearing my name announced over the PA system. Spectators along the barriers were whooping
and clanging cowbells. Did I black
out? Is this the end? I “sprinted” with every little thing I had
left, crossing the finish in a time of 5:32:35.
Unbelievable, but I did it.
 |
| Crossing the finish line! |
What
felt like an increase in my pace, toward the end and only then did I let myself
smile. Maybe I hadn’t really accepted
what I was doing until this point, as if the last three hours had only existed
to get my mind off what felt like cheating or giving up.
I walked over to a volunteer who draped a finisher’s medal over my
neck. I grabbed a water and a Gatorade
bottle and limped through the exit barriers to meet up with my wife.
All runners gained access to the finishers Beer Garden at Harry’s Oyster
Bar featuring Double Nickel Brewing Company, “Great Beer from the Great Garden
State!” I would certainly disagree with
the “great beer” catchphrase, as I am not a fan of craft beer. Because of my finish time, most of the food
vendors either left the area or exhausted their supply of grub. Oh well, since I’m usually not hungry after a
marathon, I waited to eat a large meal in Baltimore at the end of the day.
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|
Skål
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RACE STATS:
Distance:
Marathon (26.2 mi) – my Garmin clocked it at 26.41 mi
Date: 21
October 2018
Bib No.: 1012
Weather at
start: 50°F, cloudy canopy with gusty 20 mph NW’ly
winds
Gun time: 5:33:36
Chip time: 5:32:35
Average
cadence: 150 steps per minute
Average pace: 12:41
per mile
Overall rank: 560
of 806
Gender rank: 377
of 504
Division rank: 75
of 101
Elevation: 689
ft gain / 778 ft loss
Half split: 2:36
(11:57 pace)
Average finish
time: 4:39:09
Standard
deviation: 0:50:52
Age graded
score: 42.74%
Age graded
time: 4:47:41
Garmin splits:
(10:26,
10:38, 11:20, 10:34, 10:35, 10:55,
13:36, 11:02, 12:15, 11:40, 13:56,
12:41, 12:25, 12:56, 12:57, 12:59,
14:51, 13:44, 12:50, 13:13, 12:19,
14:46, 15:20, 12:28, 14:06, 13:05,
12:22 projected pace [final 0.41 mi])
LIKES / WHAT
WORKED:
- Small and challenging course on the Jersey shore.
- Flat course.
- Very well organized event from packet pick-up to the multiple aid stations along the course.
- Super friendly volunteer support.
- Hats off to the great spectators displaying their support!
- Easy parking race morning.
- FINISHING!!
DISLIKES / WHAT DIDN’T WORK:
- The non-stop wind, but there’s nothing one can do about that.
- The food variety at the finish line could be improved.
- Not closing off a dedicated running lane on the boardwalk.
- Marathoners crossing the path of half-marathon runners who are finishing.
- Miles of boredom on the boardwalk.
Final thoughts:
The last miles of any marathon are awful no matter how good you feel.
But today I had found a happy medium. I wasn’t exactly phoning it in by
finishing in a certain time, the aches and pains in my legs certainly bared
witness to the struggle. But I wasn’t killing myself doing it either.
It was, dare I say it, fun. It certainly helped that I was running
a beautiful race surrounded by the beach and boardwalk, put together by
volunteers and local supporters who were cheery and happy to be out there –
wind and all.
Even though I didn’t do well as planned through the Monopoly game inspired
city, I was somewhat dissatisfied with my performance, nonetheless. I ran the fastest race I could on this
particular day. I made a lot of mistakes
and I wasn’t adequately prepared enough (sleep, nutrition, GI issues, too much
downtime, whatever), but I ran with my head.
I am thankful I had the strength to pull off the last few miles when the
going got tough.
While I may be proud of my achievement, I am more proud of the fact that I
have this experience under my running belt and the knowledge I can crank out a
double marathon weekend and still walk away with a lesson learned. I am looking forward to some down time to
prepare for my next marathon in January.
In the meantime, I plan to pace two half marathons before year’s end.
As for the race itself, I did enjoy it. It was easily one of the flattest courses
I’ve ever run, especially the second half.
What begins in commercial and residential neighborhoods on wide roads
eventually became a tour of New Jersey’s many seaside communities, from
Longport to Margate City to Ventnor City and Atlantic City. Several miles
were run on the coastal air-soaked wooden planks of the boardwalk, which felt
elastic after seventeen miles of black asphalt concrete surfaces. I enjoyed the smells of salty sea air mixed
with cotton candy and pizza as runners loped on the boardwalk through each new
community, with the crowds lining the shore growing as the miles ticked upwards.
With State No. 46 now behind me, I have Massachusetts, Connecticut, Ohio
and North Carolina yet to run, thus bringing my fifty states journey to a
provisional close. The culmination of my
incredible journey is in sight. In
between now and then, I’m not going to let myself be lured down a new path,
other than to explore the uncharted terrain of my final 104.8-mile trek.
Onward and upward.
