Gary’s Fitness Blog

The Flying Pig was my second marathon in 8 days, as I ran the Country Music Marathon the Saturday before. I have been asked a lot of questions about why I would want to do this, especially because of the training I was doing prior to these runs (i.e. lack of specific marathon training).
I want to answer some of those questions, but I would like to address those in a separate post. I’ll title it; Things I learned by running two marathons in 8 days: And how these lessons can help you. (I’ll write that post soon and come back here and link to it.)

Right now, I want to focus on the Flying Pig Marathon itself. The course, the race organization, how I ran and how much I enjoyed it.

The basic statistics for my run are here: Flying Pig Marathon Stats

The Flying Pig Marathon Course:

There is no doubt that the marathon course is not the easiest course that I’ve run. I ran the marathon back in 2003 and remember it being challenging. This past weekend it did not disappoint. The one change since the last time I ran it was that the Kentucky loop was at the very beginning of the race, opposed to being at the end. This is a welcomed change because running over the bridges at the beginning on fresh legs was much easier than I remember running them on tired and weary legs towards the finish. Even though they weren’t demanding on my legs, they posed a challenge for me to keep my heart rate down where I wanted it - so I had to incorporate a lot of self-restraint during that section.

As you run back into Ohio, the course doesn’t get forgiving. The hills keep coming in a continuous pattern, and once you get to mile six, you have a pretty steady uphill run for approximately 2 miles. This early into the run, it is essential to not get too excited (or discouraged) by the hill. It’s way too early to spend all your extra energy.

Looking at the elevation chart they have of the course, you would think that after the half way point, you would be gradually running downhill the rest of the race. While there are not as many climbs as the first half, the second half still has it’s challenges and is by no means a flat or fast finish.

The two things that I really love about this course is the scenery. Having just run the Country Music Marathon, I can make a pretty decent comparison to it (and similarly to the Rock N Roll in Arizona), and personally I think the Flying Pig is the most scenic and appealing course of the group. The other great thing about the course was the crowd support. If you listen to the podcast, I will mention a couple spots during the course where it just feels like miles that people are stretched out on both sides of the run. I don’t remember getting too lonely at any particular time during the run (opposed to the Derby Festival Marathon), even though a few periods were more sparse than others.

Overall, I have to rank the marathon as difficult to run, but worth the work. (Hard to believe that my marathon PR is still on this course?).

Oh yeah - I forgot to mention - They have the best swag of any marathon by far. They gave out towels, medals, posters, t-shirts (all typical) but they also gave out a very nice Flying Pig duffle bag. This is something they’ve given out both years I’ve run it.

How I ran the race:

I was very happy with how the race turned out, especially considering how I went into the race. The hard thing for me to accept at times is not being on top-of-my-game. What I mean by this is that I am not so competitive with myself that I can’t run a race to have fun and just enjoy the event; but when I have a day like Sunday, I have a lot of - “if I only did x” - thoughts.

There will be a lot of discussion about strategy, training and all the other performance variables in a marathon program in the “lessons I learned” post. But there is one thing that I’d like to highlight here, which will be worthy of repeating many times:

A walk - run strategy is a very effective methodology and race strategy for most runners doing a marathon, and essential (in my opinion) for first time marathoners.

I realize that this is a concept that I have talked a lot about in the past (like.. here, here, here), but it is so useful that it is worth discussing on a regular basis.  Because it is useful doesn’t mean it is an easy methodology to implement; in fact I have found it is the most difficult teaching lesson for 85% of the runners that ask me for help.  They often feel defeated when they resort to a run/walk pattern, they are sometimes told they are not “true runners” (kid you not!).

That is the great thing about this journey of endurance.  We get to learn about our bodies and what they can do physically, our minds and what it can handle, our egos and what it controls and our spirits and where they will take us.

My run walk strategy for the Flying Pig was pretty simple - walk 20 seconds at every aid station.  This was changed early into the marathon because I was having a difficult time managing my heart rate (ego) and pushed that 20 second walk to 30 seconds.  There were times early on that I felt like the aid stations were very close together and was walking too often, but I stuck to the program I decided on prior to the race.

Towards the end of the race, I moved back to a 20 second walk and skipped the final aid station around mile 25 (was shooting for 3:20 at this point).

It was a very satisfying experience.  To put myself in a race that I’ve done before, in a condition that wouldn’t allow me to have a personal best, and then be able to mediate all the negative thinking, push my ego to the back seat while I tried to develop a better understanding of how my mind interacts with my body, to take the time and enjoy the crowd, to view the scenery - and then for a few miles - allow my body to experience pain.

It was a great experience.  I have often wondered what I will do when I get to an age that it becomes unlikely that I will be able to set new personal records or race longer races - Will I continue to race?

After this weekend, I think I can say yes.  And while that answer will come one day, I have found the better (and more self-rewarding) competitions are between my ego, body, mind and spirit.  Not with a training partner or a clock.

Taking that lesson into all of my races will be a challenge, I am sure.

So here it is - race week, 6 days before I participate in my first actual Ironman race (done the distance without the label) and I’ve spent a good amount of the last 4 days in the hidden corners of my mind asking myself - “Why do I want to be an Ironman?”

I’m thankful that I haven’t had to analyze this question before now because there is a possiblity that I couldn’t come up with a good answer, therefore making the daily training even more difficult. But the process of training is over, I have put in 451 hours and 50 minutes of training in 2007 to get to this point. At times I’ve felt cursed with this desire to know “why” about everything or to find an underlying meaning for every action. After reading the new biography on Einstein, I wonder how difficult it was for him to never find a “unified theory”. Imagine having such an intimate knowledge of this universe, only to come to a point in life where there doesn’t appear to be a simplistic methodology for understanding it. I guess that is a curse some people bare, the curse to find meaning and an inability to just let things be what they are. With that perspective in mind, here you go:

As I have thought about this, the interesting thing for me is that from the beginning (1999) to now, there has been a gradual transformation in the reasoning for why I wanted to participate in endurance activities.

The Beginning - I wanted an opportunity to say F-You to those who said I couldn’t.

I have written before about my experiences trying to play high school football in Nebraska. Even though when I sat down on January 1st, 1999 and wrote down my goals for this new adventure I didn’t put, “Show that A-hole you are better than he thought” I know that it was still there somewhere. I actually wrote down some glorified mumbo jumbo like, “use this experience as a platform to help others succeed.” I’m not sure what that really means, which is why there hasn’t been very many people that have benefited from my marathon running, triathlon races, adventure races or long distance cycling rides but me… to this point.

Why Ironman? Interesting enough, I’m not sure why I decided to make Ironman a goal. When I started I didn’t know how to swim and I didn’t own a road bike. There are two possibilities here: One - while attending the University of Nebraska I started to meet people involved with triathlon and Ironman was “the ultimate” in triathlon according to most people I talked to. Two - While running my first marathon I ended up running with a guy from Iowa. Not sure who he was, but he seemed helpful, at first. After a little discussion he started a long list of negative aspects about my marathon attempt. In a period of 5 miles he said, “You are going to Bonk” at least 20 times. He was incredibly negative about what I was doing and went on and on about how he was just using the marathon to “practice” as he was preparing for Ironman Florida. He was right, I did bonk and had a miserable last 10 miles. Maybe because I hadn’t trained enough (likely) or possibly because that guy convienced me that I wasn’t prepared. Either way, that jerk stole my joy. He took my happiness and accomplishment and trivalized what I had done (or was doing).

The “I’m gonna get you sucka” stage.

Once I got into a pattern of racing I fell into a phase that had me constantly comparing myself at races to others, specifically others that I felt I “had” to beat. Why did I have to beat them? Ego.

Eric Atnip says something quite a bit that helps put this into pespective. He commonly says, “I don’t get paid to do this.” How true. This doesn’t mean that being competitive is wrong or evil, but it does allow one to review where their competitive motivation comes from. Is it from a place that wants to crush the other guy because you want to “humble” them and boost your own “self-worth” or is it an opportunity to push each other to new peaks in performance or capabilities.

One thing that I’ve gained by living in Lexington, Kentucky is an environment that is filled with supportive competition. The culture of support among the endurance athletes in this town is tremendous. It is supportive and positive, something that I didn’t experience when I was entering into the sport while in college. (Not to say there wasn’t support in Lincoln or that everyone loves each other in Lexington, but my experience in the two environments couldn’t be more different.)

A lot of lessons can be learned by how some of the professionals act when winning and losing. Chris McDonald taught me a great lesson by his actions at Ironman Louisville on August 26th.

I’m glad that about 90% of that mentality has been removed from my concious and racing. Races would be incredibly unfulilling if that is where I was left today.

Where does my motivation come from today?

If I could narrow it down to a single word it might be - fulfillment. Or maybe a word like, empowering, living, satisfaction, humility….

If I could put it down in simple statements it might be any one of the following:

• - to pursue excellence in a singular area
• - to create discipline within a complicated mind in a crazy world
• - to remember that life is lived in moments of now, not recollections of times past
• - to instill a thankfullness to my God that allows me such a wonderful gift
• - to develop a trust in something other than my own mind
• - to understand pain
• - to disallow physical pain’s grip upon my conciousness
• - to disallow phychological pain’s manifestation on my body
• - to help carry some of the burdens that others’ spirits hold (Specifically for Ironman Wisconsin I will be thinking about the burdens that God has placed upon my aunt Connie and John Reier.)
• - to remember the blessings that I get on a daily basis
• - to honor those that have had a part in my development
• - to have an excuse so that I don’t drink too much once again…
• - to run from problems that seem to have no answer … because there will be an answer once those feet hit the pavement. There always is.
• - to understand the value of working hard

I realize that all of this may seem a little hokie for those reading this. “How can you get all that out of running a damn race?” I agree that it may seem overstated, I could have developed and matured from the person I was in 1999 to the person I am now without ever having run a single mile. But I didn’t! There are two tools that God has given me to deal with the demons I face and improving myself as a person - poetry and physical endurance. I’m not so open to sharing my poetry anymore, so you get to look into the window of my life through my racing.

If you want to read about someone else’s journey that just finished at Ironman Louisville, I suggest you go read Courtney’s Race Report. Sometimes a race means more than just what happens on a single day. Think about the lasting impression John “Blazeman” Blais will have upon the concious of those in the war on ALS.

Sure, there will be moments this Sunday where I will be motivated by images of me walking up to certain individuals and saying “F–K You!” But thankfully, I have a list of things that now motivate me than just that.

Checking out until next week. Follow Nikki and I at www.ironmanlive.com. Nikki’s race number is 2031, my race number is 437. There also will be text updates at various times at, www.twitter.com/ditschfitness