From Boston to Columbus, marathoners deserve respect, sympathy
The Columbus Marathon is 26.2 weeks away. For marathon veterans, what you are about to read should resonate deep in your burning lungs. For firsttime marathoners thinking of running Columbus, get busy training. And pay attention to what Bill Rodgers has to say.
“I was a beginner once, too. It really is a learning process. The most careful people do well. I wasn't one of those,” the 74year-old Rodgers said Tuesday, 24 hours after attending — but not running — the most famous marathon in the world. Boston. “The best are meticulous. I wasn't like that.”
Rodgers paid dearly for his lack of preparation, dropping out of his first marathon (Boston) in 1973 when the heat melted him into a puddle of sweaty pain. The native New Englander learned an important lesson that day and put his
education to good use, winning the Bay State Marathon later that year in a course-record 2:28.12. He went on to win Boston and New York four times each and generally is considered America's
most famous marathoner.
Hard stop. I will address this in short order, but for now it is enough to know that covering 26.2 miles in 2:28.12 means averaging five minutes and 40 seconds per mile at an average speed of 10.6 mph. To better understand how fast that is, try running into a brick wall at that speed and see how it feels. Then call an ambulance.
Speaking of almost dying, watching the last few miles of Monday's Boston Marathon reminded me how runners fit into two camps: sprint and distance. You are one or the other. If, like me, you are hewn from fast-twitch fiber and associate more with sprinting, you likely have stopped reading by now, because the thought of running more than five minutes at a time is anathema. And dumb.
If more tortoise than hare, you have my total respect. Your amazing perseverance and energy mean you never stop moving. It also means you would not mind cutting my grass after mowing 10 other lawns following your 20-mile morning workout and hour-long weights and stretching session.
Contact me if interested. You can use my mower.
On rare occasions, due to a combination of freakish genetics and incredible work ethic, a runner emerges who is both fast and steady. Those are the ones who win the Boston Marathon. On Monday, Evans Chebet of Kenya won Boston in 2:06.51, averaging 4:50 a mile. It is no exaggeration that 99% of the world cannot run even one mile that fast, let alone 26 in a row.
Which brings us back to dying. Kenyan Peres Jepchirchir barely looked winded after finishing Boston as the fastest woman in 2:21.01, but looks are deceiving.
American Frank Shorter, who won marathon gold at the 1972 Munich Olympics, once explained, “You have to forget your last marathon before you try another. Your mind can't know what's coming.” In other words, these things hurt. “I've seen people crawl or be carried across the finish line,” Rodgers said. “It sounds bad, but it's about them aiming high, aiming to run your city's marathon.”
Rodgers ran Columbus in 1981, finishing fifth, with an asterisk.
“Around the 23-mile mark I came upon (1980 Olympic qualifier) Kyle Heffner staggering and said, ‘Kyle, you have to stop.' I took him to the side of the road. It's what we runners do,” Rodgers
said.
Clearly, even world-class runners struggle at times because of the everchanging topography, weather and physical breakdown that marks every marathon. Veterans of the long haul already know this, but rookies need to know what to expect before committing to months of training.
Consider the following something of a marathoning public service announcement.
Vera Thornhill, 56, no longer runs marathons, but in her prime the Powell resident won her share of races. Now treasurer of the Columbus Roadrunners
Club, Thornhill walked me through what it feels like to pound pavement for hours along the streets of Columbus, site of the Oct. 16 marathon.
Thornhill's abbreviated rundown: • “The first six miles you have to hold yourself back, because you have to run your own pace. In order to do well you have to try to run even splits … but at the starting line people are sprinting, and if you sprint with them you will die.”
• “After doing six miles, you're not in pain, but it doesn't feel easy anymore. It feels like you're running now.”
• “Anywhere from 10 miles to halfway … sometimes my legs will go numb, which is a good thing, because you're running your certain pace. But you know if you stop you'll never start again, so you keep going.”
Numb legs, a good thing? Alrighty then.
• “About 20 miles, you can avoid hitting the wall if you take sugar and if you trained right. Drink something sugary and take (energy gel).”
But if you hit the wall?
“If you're dying and the race is down the toilet, just try to hang on,” she said. For 25 miles? Alrighty then. Finally, the finish line.
“The last mile I would run as fast as I can. I don't care how painful it is. I try to sprint, especially at Columbus where it's downhill,” she said.
Did she say “sprint?” Yes, yes she did. Even distance runners come around, eventually.
Thornhill's best marathon time was 3:00.21, a splendid performance, yet one that still annoys her because she came up just short; like a golfer failing to break 80 by three-putting the 18th green.
“If I had known I was that close to (breaking three hours) I could have picked up 30 seconds,” she said. “But that was one of the races where I went out too fast and died at the end.”
In other news, Thornhill finished the 2002 Columbus Marathon in 41⁄2 hours – while six months pregnant.
Get busy training, people. roller@dispatch.com @rollercd