Indianapolis Mini Marathon - May 6, 2006

New to Racing

The Indianapolis Mini Marathon was my first half-marathon and the longest organized race I've participated in since I started running in September 2005. The experience was fantastic, and I wholeheartedly encourage anyone with the opportunity to run this great race.

My brother Scott and myself were both signed up for the race, although our goals were a little different. Scott was looking to finish the race, and to minimize his walking as much as possible. Anything above that was gravy.

Humble Beginnings

Setting my own goals for this race became a bit more complicated. In the Fall of 2005, I had just started running again to lose 40 pounds of spare tire. I was logging mostly 12:00 minute miles, with some short 10:30 to 11:00 minute "speed" segments. All of my running was a combination of running and walking, and 5 miles was my long run. As I imagined the daunting prospect of 13.1 miles, I thought the best I could reasonably expect to achieve was a steady 11:00 minute clip for the entire Mini. So when I signed up for the race in October 2005, I confidently listed my predicted finish time as 2 hours, 20 minutes, and I held hope that I might even do better.

Well, my running progressed quite a bit leading up to this race. By January 2006, I had ditched the walking (and most of the excess weight) and I began to think that 10:00 minute miles for the entire race was possible. By March my long runs were up to 12 miles, and I actually had my eye on the 2 hour mark. In April, now running as much as 40 miles per week, I had a strong run at an organized 15K race and I had reason to believe that a one hour, 50 minute finish was achievable.

With all these numbers swirling in my head, I put my faith in the revered McMillan calculator, and set my sights on an 8:30 pace and a 1:50's finish. Still, part of me wondered whether I could really shave a full thirty minutes off my original projected time.

Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

Race day finally arrived, and the weather could not have been better: 50 degree temperatures at the start, climbing to the low 60's as the sun appeared later in the morning. Runners, family and friends were pouring in from all sides to the streets surrounding the starting corrals. Music and official announcements blared over the speakers. Organized chaos ... the collective energy and anticipation was incredible.

After dropping our gear bags at our assigned trucks and attending to other last minute functions, Scott and I made our way to our assigned Corral P (the starting corrals were ordered A through Z). As cruel fate would dictate, your assigned coral was based on your predicted time when you registered for the race. Since I had no official race times to bump up my seeding (my only race, the 15k, was too late), I was left to start in Corral P despite my faster aspirations.

Green Flag Racing

The Indianapolis Mini Marathon is the largest half-marathon in the country, and the eight-largest of all organized races in the U.S, with over 35,000 people registered in 2006 and well over 27,000 actually running. As I stretched and started to mentally prepare for the start, the vision of so many people ahead of me was worrisome. Obviously the chip timing would ensure that the long trip to the start line was not counted, but once I crossed the line, there was still a massive sea of humanity ahead -- and I was estimating that I would be running faster than a few thousand of those folks standing ahead of Corral P. I decided that "P" was for "passing" and I would simply weave my way as best as I could.

Finally, gun goes off! And we wait. And wait. Then move up a 100 meters. And wait. If you've never participated in a massive race like this and had to endure the wait to get to the start line, the only thing I can compare it to is the feeling you get on a rollercoaster as you slowly ascend the big hill. Emotions are rushing through your head, and you start to second-guess everything: "I'm going to be cold wearing this shirt ... I didn't get enough long runs in before the race ... My shoes are tied too loose ... Forget time goals; take it slow and easy." Frankly, getting to the start line (11 minutes after the gun) and getting to actually start running comes as a huge relief.

The Plan In Action

My race plan was to divide the race into three segments: two 5 mile segments and a 5K segment at the end.

The plan for the first five miles was to come up to pace steadily and to avoid coming out too fast. Well, the crowd of runners helped make sure the start was slow enough. My first mile split (8:49) was a heap slower than I hoped. Minorly panicking, I realized I was going to have to be a bit more aggressive about the weaving and passing. I decided to use the sidewalks, use the grass, use politeness ("On your left! Thank you!"), and, as a last resort, use elbows (reserved for oblivious runners with blaring walkmans, running four-abreast with friends, but with the preternatural ability to cut me off as I approach to pass).

I felt some pains during the first 5 miles. My calves started acting up in mile 2, which really hasn't happened since I first started running. I decided that there was no sound medical reason for my calves to be uncooperative -- so I ignored their pleas for leniency. My knees joined the chorus around mile 3, but I knew from experience that they quiet down once I get into stride after 4 miles or so. I started to get the hang of dealing with the crowds, and the adrenaline was flowing straight to my legs. The first five miles went down basically as planned, and by the end I was settling into a fairly quick pace.

M	Pace	HR
1	8:49	159
2	8:19	165
3	8:25	161
4	8:03	163
5	8:08	162

five mile split: 41:44 (8:21 pace)

The Plan, Part II

The plan for the second five miles was to stay strong and steady at a comfortable pace. The highlight of the Indianapolis Mini Marathon, for many runners, is the lap around the famed Indy 500 race track. Runners enter the track between mile 5 and 6, and exit shortly before mile 9. As we entered the track, the giant Jumbotron screen is showing the lead elite runners in their final miles approaching the finish line -- its humbling to realize that the "race" is already won at around the time I hit the 6 mile marker.

Running at the track was both fun and frustrating. There are some organized cheering squads (with some very, very cute girls) near the start and end of the track segment, but the general public isn't allowed into the stadium so it can be a bit monotonous. Also, a large part of the route is run on the pit road and service road instead of the main track. This section was among the narrowest in the entire race, and it was very difficult to maintain pace with the density of runners in this section. Nevertheless, I was feeling mostly strong and focused through these miles, and I took a couple ShotBlocks at miles 8 and 9 to top-off the tank. So far, so good. I spent the time between miles 9 and 10 thinking about what I could and couldn't do for the last 5k to the finish.

M	Pace	HR
6	8:17	161
7	8:21	160
8	8:07	158
9	8:16	158
10	8:05	159

five mile split: 41:06 (8:13 pace)

The Homestretch

I had deliberately decided in advance not to plan the strategy for last 5K. I figured I would see how I was doing, and I would make up a plan "on the fly." So as I approached the 10 mile marker, I took stock of the race so far. On the minus side, I knew that I was running a faster race than I planned, and I was worried about what my legs had left. My legs were definitely starting to feel heavy and I knew I had spent a lot of energy to maintain pace and dodge crowds. On the plus side, my heart rate was clocking in at a safe and stable beat, and I knew that I hadn't red-lined in order to hold the pace that I had logged. I had been running hard, true, but apparently within my cardio boundaries. In sum: My head said that I should slow down and just make sure that I finished. My heart (literally) was telling me that there was still some gas in the tank.

I decided to go with the heart. As I crossed into mile 11, the mental mantra became: "This is a race. Leave it all on the course." I was so focused on my form and breathing that memories from the final 3 miles are more like snapshots than video clips: the "FREE COLD BEER" sign outside the Hi-Neighbor Tavern ... a water table ahead, finally ... a t-shirt: "My sport is your sport's punishment" ... the New York Street bridge, the last turn of the race ... a "1/2 mile to go" marker -- so close now ... race photographer ahead -- fake a smile until you get past ... where's that damn 1/4 mile to go marker? ... there's the finish line, so close, just go, just go, just go. And across. Now breath, get some water. Check the watch. 1:46 and change?! Cool!

A bit better than my original 2:20 estimate, too.

M	Pace	HR
11	7:47	161
12	7:54	161
13	7:34	164
0.1	0:42	168 (7:20 pace)

5K split: 23:57 (7:42 pace)

Official Race: 1:46:46 (8:09 pace)
overall place: 3599 out of 27628
division place: 521 out of 2082 (M35-39)
gender place: 3006 out of 13305

The post-race amenities were first-class. I get myself hydrated, fed and stretched as I wait for my brother to finish. Scott comes across the line under 2:30, and proudly tells me that he ran the whole way despite his initial plan to start walking after mile five. A very good day all around.