Iron Pol

One of the best things about the Fox Cities Triathlon Club is the strong drive to share triathlon with newbies.  While most triathletes love bringing new people into the sport, the Tri Foxes offers Tri 101.  This annual program brings together first timers, experienced racers, coaches, mentors, and training sessions to prepare people for their first race.

Since our first timers haven't yet reached triathlon maturity, we refer to them as "Tri Kits" instead of Tri Foxes.

This year, I helped mentor Jesse.  Truth be told, Jesse paid pretty close attention through the training classes, received swim instruction from some experienced and qualified coaches, and had plenty of prior bike experience.  I provided a bit of general guidance and moral support.  Jesse followed the training plan and showed up ready to race on June 20th.  Well, almost.

The Run for Ron 50-mile ultramarathon is in the books.  It was a long, painful book, but it's complete.  There are, of course, stories and lessons that come with any major endurance event.

My first ultramarathon was a 40-miler in conjunction with the Fox Cities Marathon, last year.  That was basically a round trip, with the last 26 miles being the actual marathon.  My second ultra was the Fall 50, a point-to-point run through Door County, Wisconsin (Gil's Rock to Sturgeon Bay).

This run gave new meaning to the theory of running in circles.  I started just after 3 a.m. from Lambeau Field, home of the Green Bay Packers.  It was somewhere around 33F and windy, so I opted to wear running tights, two shirts over my tri top, and gloves.  As most ultrarunners can tell, starting a run by yourself in the dark of night can be a truly lonely experience.

I can't say enough about the race director and his crew, as the course was extremely well marked, even that early in the morning.  Signs, painted arrows, and aid stations helped me stay on the right roads.  There were no cars on the roads, and my safety lights were almost overkill.

After about two hours, I was back in the parking lot of Lambeau Field with 13 miles completed.  The trunk of my car was a personal aid station, complete with fuel, Gatorade and extra gear.  I removed one of the extra shirts, refilled my bottles, and headed back to the starting line for the second loop.

There was a good deal more "company" on the second lap, with more cars on the road, runners starting to head to the race, and volunteers setting up aid stations.  The second lap was also easier because I had already run it and knew the route a bit better.  I also knew where each of the porta-johns was located, so I could judge when to stop for potty breaks.

The second lap, only 11 miles, took a bit less time, and I made my second return to Lambeau just after 7 a.m.  I stopped at the car for my gear check bag, made a bunch of changes (ditched the tights, removed the second long sleeve shirt, and restocked my fuel), and met up with a co-worker and another friend who would be supporting some of us along the course.  Leaving her with a bag of M&Ms (emergency fuel), I headed to the start line.

One of the challenges with timing an ultrarun that includes an organized race is hitting the start line at the proper time.  This year, I had nearly 25 minutes, which is really too long.  Though I didn't cool all the way down, my legs really disliked the "restart" after the long rest interval.  Luckily, it was considerably warmer than both my 3 a.m. start and the predicted temperature at race start.

Soon enough, the horn sounded and we were off.  Again.  Since I use a 5-minute run/two-minute walk Galloway plan for ultramarathons, it wasn't long before thousands of runners were passing me on my first walk interval.  But knowing the distance in front of me, I stuck to the plan with great discipline.

Once again, a few short hours later, I was passing Lambeau Field heading toward the 11-mile mark of the marathon, the split off from the half-marathon, and roads that I hadn't run twice already, that morning.

I was also starting to deal with what had to be a blister developing on the bottom of my foot, just behind the toes.  There was little complaining to be done, as it was quite obviously my fault.  More on that, later.

The final 15 miles of the race were on "new" roads.  I kept plodding along using the 5/2 plan, trying to get a feel for my pace.  While I couldn't nail down a definite pace, I knew I was falling below the 10-minute pace of the first 25 miles.  Eventually, the 4:30 and 5 hour pace teams pace me.  I wasn't overly concerned, mostly because there was nothing I could do about it.

Around mile 15, the marathon course hits a long recreational trail.  This is where things started to fall apart, for me.  First, the trail follows the Fox River, and there was a strong, cold wind blowing across the trail.  Second, spectator support along the trail is limited primarily to the few parks and crossings that exist.  Finally, the suspected blister became a certainty, and the front part of my right foot was getting pretty tender.

I managed to keep the run/walk thing going, though some of the intervals got flipped (walk 5, run 2).  I saw my friends at one point on the trail, and kept running until the mile 20 wall party.  I ran through "the wall" and began what I knew was a 10K (6.2 mile) walk to the finish.  My foot was one big blister, my legs had nothing left in them, and I knew I could make the finish around my 1 p.m. target.

Luckily, I was joined just after mile 20 by a first time marathoner who was dealing with some significant cramps.  We wound up completing the rest of the marathon, together.   That was a HUGE help for me, as the conversation helped keep my mind off the pain.

About 10 hours after I started (9:45 running time), I crossed the finish line.  I knew that the pain I was in would subside within a few short days.  I can only hope that the effort can, in some small way, help ease the suffering of Ron's wife, daughter, and other family members.  Throughout the entire day, especially during the first 25 miles, my thoughts were focused on them.

A lot of people ask WHY I would consider running 50 miles at one shot.  Honestly, it's because I can.  And to prove I can.  And in this case, it's because another CAN'T.  If the idea of completing an ultramarathon boggles the imagination, please honor the effort by following the PayPal link just below my profile.  There, you can make a donation to the Ron Smead Foundation.  Those contributions will help ensure Ron's family is shielded from some of the financial pain of his passing.

Now, I promised "more" about the blisters and how it was actually my fault.  It was, really.  Does everyone remember the "nothing new on race day" rule?  I do.  I've been bitten by it in the past.  And apparently learned nothing.

With all the training to get ready for this run, I'd gone through several pair of socks.  Every pair of my favorite running sock was pretty threadbare.  At the race expo, I bought several new pair.  Same brand, same sock, same size.  Same everything.

Well, except for the "been worn," "been washed" and "been tested on a long run" parts.  While the cause of the blister could theoretically be worn shoes or the long mileage, I'm confident it is because of my stupidity.  The socks just slipped more than the other pairs, likely because the new ones have yet to have all the "newness" washed out of them.

Perhaps THIS will be the lesson that sticks.  But probably not.  The blisters are nearly healed up and I can walk normally, again.  By Saturday, I'll probably forget this ever happened.

First, allow me to say I may have reached the pinnacle of my ultramarathoning career.  Having participated in the Fall 50, I have a new and profound respect for ultramarathoners, particularly those who complete extreme endurance events in the 100+ category.  Fifty was quite enough for this body, and only time will tell if more events at this distance are likely.

Second, I have to say that going into a 50 mile event with three weeks that more closely resemble an off season than a taper is probably less than conducive to a successful race.  Between my own head and chest cold, sick kids, and crazy schedules, I only managed one run of about 18 miles during the three weeks between my final long run and the actual race.  For the first time since my very first marathon, I went into a race less than 100% confident in my overall training program.  I accepted that finishing was less than guaranteed given the circumstances.

Finally, sleeping in a recliner with a sick 3-year old is probably a poor excuse for a good night's sleep prior to a race.  Since my daughter takes precedence over any race, that's what we did, and I prayed that sleep was less important than actual rest.

Saturday morning, I woke up at 2:40 a.m. and had a banana while I toasted a bagel and loaded gear into the car.  I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and bagel and hit the road.  I made it to the finish line about an hour before the planned shuttle departure, and spent that time talking with a couple of experienced ultramarathoners.  They had some helpful information about the course, and I made some new friends.

The bus got us to the start line around 6:30, and the descriptions provided by a few other bloggers helped minimize the surprise.  A table, a few runners, and some staff people trying to figure out the sound system while getting the start line banner erected was all there was to see.  Packet pick-up was in an entryway for a small shop, and it only took a few runners to make it feel "crowded."

Due to struggles with getting music going, the runner who happened to be the very last person to register volunteered to sing the national anthem.  I was impressed, mostly because I can't sing at all, and he did a pretty good job.  Just before starting, we recited the Fall 50 motto.  "Start at Gills Rock, face south, and don't stop running until somebody gives you a beer."

From the very beginning, I went with my 5/2 run/walk intervals.  Despite watching the vast majority of the runners pull ahead and feeling I was going dreadfully slow, I maintained my pace, knowing it was a LONG race.  Most bothersome was seeing my nemesis (a guy who seems to be at every race I run) disappear into the distance.  The Galloway interval method had served me well on all past long runs, so I wasn't going to abandon it in the race.

The course starts out with a lot of rolling hills.  The scenery was amazing due to the turning of the leaves, and cheerleading on the course was primarily from team and pairs runners heading north for their starts (teams started at 8, 9, and 10 a.m. based on expected finishing times).  The route was well marked, and only occassionally did I worry that I might have missed a turn.

Aid stations were about every five miles, and stocked with standard fare of Gatorade and water, Clif Bars, and volunteers to provide some help.  Certain stations also had oranges, bananas, and pretzels.  The station about about mile 28 had chicken soup and broth, bagels, and a wide variety of candy.

For this race, the nutrition plan called for something every 56 minutes.  In order, I used a Tri-berry Gu, a Kiwi Strawberry CarBoom, a second Gu, and a package of Lemon Lime Shot Bloks.  I had enough on hand to run through that sequence twice.  At the mile 28 aid station, I downed a 3 Musketeers bar and grabbed two small packs of M&Ms.  For hydration I carried four bottles of Gatorade with Endurolytes powder on my Amphipod.  I had a bag with more Endurolytes and refilled as needed.

My one concern with the race was that my nemesis was nowhere to be seen.  I have yet to finish after him in a race, and was concerned that 50 miles would be the distance where he defeated me.  As I hit 15, then 20 and 25 miles, I grew more and more concerned because not only didn't I pass him, but there was nobody in sight at all.  Those concerns were allayed, though, at the "half-way buffet" and mile 28.  My nemesis was already there when I ran in, and he was still there when I left.  I didn't see him again until he came into the finisher's tent, about 40 minutes after me.

All in all, the race went very well.  The primary goal of finishing was accomplished.  I also managed to beat my best guesstimate time goal of 9 hours, finishing in 8:58:08 by my watch.  I missed my "perfect day" goal of maintaining 10 minute miles (8:20), though that had always been a bit of a pipe dream.  Between aid station stops and calls of nature, I knew that was going to be a tough mark to hit.

In the end, despite my best efforts, I did go out a bit too fast.  At mile 25, I was seven minutes ahead of pace.  That wasn't something I was unable to maintain.

This was a huge accomplishment, and my body tells me 50 miles is enough.  Out on the race course, I knew that while recovery would probably go well, the general pain associated with this event was about the limit of what I wanted to endure.  During the post race party, a fellow Tri Fox asked me which was more challenging, Ironman or the Fall 50.

I thought about it, and had to concede that the 50 mile run was more difficult.  Ironman, though longer, offers a few things the 50 mile race does not.  First, the variety of swim, bike, and run allows different muscle groups to be utilized.  The "pain" changes.

In ultramarathons, the same body parts get abused for the duration of the event.  That probably applies to ultra distance swim and bike events, too.  Of course, Ironman is much more painful to the wallet, so it I'd say I'm more likely to run the Fall 50, again, before I do another Ironman.

If there is any advice I would give to somebody considering an ultramarathon, it would be this.  Train the way you will race.  Most importantly, that means train alone.  Unless training with someone with whom you intend to run the race, long runs should be accomplished solo.  If this race was any indication of ultras in general, that is how you will race.  While I saw runners on the road, the vast majority of the race was spent alone.  Only on long stretches of straight road was I likely to see more than one or two runners at a time, and more rare were the times I ran with anyone within speaking distance.

So, I added ultramarathon to the list of accomplishments.  And now, it's time for the off season.  I'm taking a well deserved couple days off.  Then, it's on to the off season swim program, starting with 30 days of swimming in November.  I've had a lot of time off from swimming, and will start from "scratch" and see if I can put together a more effective and efficient stroke for the 2009 season.

And then, it's time to start thinking in Ironman terms, again.

After running 40-miles, it might make sense to detail how difficult it was.  Then again, I doubt that would be news to anyone.  So a different approach seems to make sense.

Everything leading up to the start of the run was fairly normal.  Big pasta dinner on Friday.  Rest and more carbs on Saturday.  Kids fighting going to sleep keeping me up way later than planned.  Waking up at 3 a.m. for breakfast and stretching.

When I got to the park where the race ends, there were already several people getting out of cars.  As I headed to the actual finish line, a couple of them pointed out that the shuttles were "over there."  I let them know I had my own plans for getting to the start.

The first song that came on my MP3 player was "The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance.  Given I was started a very long route and it was quite dark, it fit well.  It was very surreal starting a race without thousands of others around me.  I quickly settled into a routine of run, walk, look for arrows on the road (there were no route markers for the "first" five miles or so.

From there, with the limited exception of the 13 minute break between finishing the first half-marathon and the start of the official race, it was just a run.  Long and arduous, yes, but still just a run.  The roughest part was probably from miles 31 to 33.  The coolest part was around mile 23 when a fellow Tri Fox cheering the runners ran alongside me yelling, "This man is running FORTY miles, today."

Here's a few things I took away from the day:

First, starting a 40-mile run on my own caused none of the pre-race excitement/jitters commonly felt.  I did, however, experience them at the start of the actual marathon.

When you are running an ultra-marathon as part of a race, there's a great deal of anonymity.  Other than a few aid-station workers who might have wondered what I was doing, only those familar with me knew what was happening.  To anyone at the start of the race, the end of my 13.8 mile run looked amazingly like a pre-race warmup.

"Crazy" is a relative term.  Most people look at marathoners as quite remarkable.  Increase the distance to 40-miles, and those truly remarkable marathoners become the ones talking about "crazy" feats.  And I think that someone who would run 100 miles in a single workout is the lunatic.

All along the race course I found myself ready to help anyone who looked distressed.  Whether it was a gel, a bit of moral support, or someone to walk with, the desire to see everyone succeed outweighed any need to break the anonymity of the day.  Many were completing their first full distance marathon, and that was more important than anything I was doing.

Talking about your goals with others can have amazing results.  One of my co-workers was talking with an editor at the local paper about the race, and shared that I would be running the marathon as part of my 40 mile day.  The results of that discussion can be found here.  (When I get a chance, I'll scan the actual article and picture).

At the end of the day, I was successful.  I completed the 40 mile run, and was extraordinarily close to my target of 10-minute miles.  Using a 5-minute run, 2-minute walk interval, I finished in a total time of 6 hours 42 minutes.  And two minutes difference over 40 miles is pretty minor.

And just for the record, the rest of the day was more challenging then the actual race.  We took the kids to a local church picnic, and I spent the afternoon chasing them around.  When I finally sat down, my feet wanted to give me a kiss.

This past weekend, we proved it isn't all about the bike.  It isn't all about the run.  This weekend, it was all about the kids.  This was the weekend of the Oshkosh Area Triathlon put on by Midwest Sports Events.  Saturday was the kid's tri and Sunday was the sprint distance race.  My own kids raced Saturday, and the Brigade kids raced on Sunday.

I'll start with the kid's tri on Saturday.  Mostly because the pictures from Sunday aren't yet posted.  And it's my own kids.

After this brief race report, I'll post a bunch of pictures from the event.

I want to start by saying that Midwest Sports Events did an AWESOME job for the kids.  From having them use the same assigned transition racks the adults use to a course loaded with volunteers, this race was very well organized.  I saw lots of smiling children, and my kids went away feeling every bit the triathlete.  If you live in the Fox Valley of Wisconsin or attend any race put on by Gloria West and her awesome staff, I strongly recommend letting your kids participate in the kid's events.

And now for the pictures.  There are quite a few, as my kids apparently have better luck getting good pictures.

After a long vacation week, it's time to get back to work.  And for the faithful readers anxiously awaiting the Spirit of Racine race report, we start with the picture on the left.  It should be noted that it is difficult to see people walking to the start, and impossible to see much beyond that.  About the middle of the picture is a bouy that can just barely be made out.  And this is around 7:45, almost an hour after the race was supposed to start.

Due to extremely poor visibility, the race start was delayed about an hour, and the swim route adjusted to bring the course closer to the shoreline.  Even then sighting was nearly impossible and swimmers were all over the course.  I missed the final turn bouy by more than 100 feet and had to swim back out and around that marker before heading to shore.

Even so, my final swim time was 37:39.  That makes me question the actual distance, as it was an improvement of nearly six minutes over last year's swim.  While I may have gotten faster, I question whether I'm THAT much faster.

I blazed through T2 in just over 90 seconds, and started the run in extremely hot conditions.  The temperature pushed 90F as the day wore on, and I went through a lot of water for cooling purposes.  I struggled on the run and finished with a time of 1:55:59 compared to 1:45:51, last year.

The gains made on the swim, bike, and transitions were enough to offset the loss on the run, and I finished with an overall time of 5:27:55.  My goal was to break 5:30, so mission accomplished.  I'm a bit hesitant to consider it a PR as I believe the swim was short, but I can only go by the numbers I have.

I was speedy in T1 as I went without socks and I had preloaded my drinks onto my bike.  Last year, I had the bottles in a cooler with ice.  Even though I forgot my gels and had to run back for them, I was way faster than last year.

I felt sluggish on the bike, and was concerned about losing time over last year.  While I think my actual pace was slower, this year, I didn't stop to change anyone's tires, and came in with a bike time of 2:49:27 compared to last year's 2:53:06.

One big change from last year was the strong presence of course marshalls.  They were up and down the course, and it appeared to have an impact.  Last year they had full fledged pelotons all over the bike route.  This year, drafting was much less prevelant, and most of that was the hard to avoid situations on major hills.

I blazed through T2 in just over 90 seconds, and started the run in extremely hot conditions.  The temperature pushed 90F as the day wore on, and I went through a lot of water for cooling purposes.  I struggled on the run and finished with a time of 1:55:59 compared to 1:45:51, last year.

True to my resolution to improve, or at least change, the way my run pictures turn out, I made sure to do something different as I ran by photographers.  I don't know if the "arms up in victory" pose is any better (since this is at about mile 1), but it is at least different.

The gains made on the swim, bike, and transitions were enough to offset the loss on the run, and I finished with an overall time of 5:27:55.  My goal was to break 5:30, so mission accomplished.  I'm a bit hesitant to consider it a PR as I believe the swim was short, but I can only go by the numbers I have.

Just to belabor the point, this Fourth of July was full of firsts, nearly all of them in the first few hours of the day.

The Fox Cities Triathlon Club kicked off the holiday weekend with their first annual Fox Firecracker 5K on the Fourth of July.  While the name may be a mouthful, the race was really well done.  And that's more than just the bias of an active member.  Our race committee outdid themselves and put on a great event.

Keeping in mind this is a 5K, how many races have you attended with skydivers, rock bands, and fireworks?  (Okay, the fireworks were just some small firecrackers to start the race, but still...)  After lining up the participants, three skydivers jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.  The first carried our tri club banner.  The second trailed long streamers.  The third had an incredibly large American flag flying below.

In a departure from the pistol or airhorn used to start so many events, this race began with a string of firecrackers dropped into a steel wash basin.  It was surprisingly effective and a festive way to sound the start.  With nearly 700 runners, the start was well planned and things went smoothly.

At the end of the race, there was a live band, pizza and pasta from Pizza Hut, American flags and firecracker shaped cheese for finisher, and lots of socializing.  And after a season of mostly blah shirts from races, this race had a pretty cool t-shirt.  Think Uncle Sam in a Tri Fox jersey.

This was the first 5K race completed by one young member of our junior tri team and her younger brother. They both did very well.  I ran with her and offered suggestions as she dealt with some shoulder tension issues.  Even with that, she finished in about 34 minutes, averaging 10:59/mile.  That's outstanding for a person who had never completed the mile and a half in cross country without at least some walking.

The race also offered a unique aid station.  There was one official water station with water and Gatorade, positioned at the 1.5 mile point.  Just after that was the first of two unofficial aid stations.  Provided by the Hilltop Bakery, this most unique station provided three kinds of donut holes, cookies, and some kind of puffed rice treat.  It was very impressive, and both the donuts and cookies were good.  A second unofficial aid station provided water closer to the end.

Finally, for the first time ever, I was called out in a race.  Just after the donut stop (which my young trainee FORCED me to make because she wanted donuts), another Tri Fox came up from behind and yelled, "Hey, are you Iron Pol?"  "Yeah, I am."  "Cool, I read your blog."

A review of the comments shows Rachel at "Live with Kids" left a note about passing me on the course.  Her blog has a very familiar feel as it covers the art of balancing triathlon with everything else in life.  Stop by and say "Hi," when you get a chance.

Now, two things made that pretty cool.  First, this wasn't a prearranged meeting.  I'd have to look back, but I'm not sure I really publicized I would be in that race.  This was a chance passing on the race course.  Second, this Tri Fox showed she is WAY more in tune with other people than me.  She came from behind us and somehow managed to recognize me from pictures.  And given this race was put on by the Tri Foxes, it wasn't like I was the only guy on the course wearing the club jersey.

She was past us pretty quickly, and I wasn't able to get her bib number.  So, if you are reading this, leave a comment or use the contact form to send me a note, especially if you have your own blog.  That way, it can be added to the Tri Blog Community.  Regardless, I appreciate both the time taken to read these posts and the shout out during the race.

The rest of the weekend was outstanding as the Pol family celebrated the nation's birth with camping, fireworks, swimming, staying up late, and enjoying friends and family.  Oh yeah, an 1800 yard swim, 56 mile bike, and 10 mile run capped off the final heavy training for the Spirit of Racine Triathlon on July 20th.  I guess that puts me officially into taper.

The 2008 Bellin Run is in the books.  It was a beautiful day, with very slight breezes and fairly moderate temperatures.  While it was a bit warm in the open areas, it was far from the extremes of heat experienced the past few years.  In fact, conditions were so good that at least one new course record was set (though I don't know which).

For me, it was a good run, though less than I had hoped.  The first several miles allowed me to know I was unlikely to break 40 minutes.  It would have taken a significant negative split, and I didn't have that in me.  I set my sites on maintaining a good enough pace to set a PR.  By mile five, I knew that was out the door, as well.

I finished with an official time of 42:49 for a pace of 6:54/mile.  My 5K split was 20:30 making it easy to see how I faded on the second half.  It also shows how big a negative split I would have needed to break 40 minutes.  Given the physical circumstances of the past weeks, I'll take a second best 10K run in lieu of a personal best.

It seems many of my co-workers were dragging the same anchor.  The top three runners from last year were the top three runners, this year.  Our fastest was about 1:45 slower, this year.  I was 1:27 slower, and our third fastest runner was 2:08 slower.  While still 1, 2, 3, our cumulative times were over five minutes slower.  It looks like next year we all need to focus on speedwork in the weeks leading up to the race.

That's three races down, and one big one left on the horizon.  I now have about five weeks to recover and get myself to the starting line in Racine.  After that 70.3 miles, I'll figure out what my body can handle for the rest of the year.

Imagine running an Ironman and finishing with a PR of nearly an hour.  If that race was an Ironman 70.3 event, it would be even more satisfying.  And achieving that kind of improvement in an Olympic is huge.

So what about a 50 minute PR in an 18 mile sprint event?  That would be truly impressive.  Maybe, maybe not.

My return to the sprint distance was also my return to the Trinity Triathlon.  Consisting of a 220 yard swim, a 15 mile bike, and 3.1 mile run, it was the scene of the first triathlon I ever completed.  Or, as I refer to it, the scene of the crime.

After having a chain break at mile six of the bike and then running the next 6.5 miles barefoot, I completed that first race with a time of 2:04.

Things went much better, today.

We had a wonderful day for a race, with moderate temperatures and winds that weren't TOO bad.  The water was only 58 degrees, and I wore my wetsuit despite the short distance.  Any time lost in transition was more than made up in comfort in the water.

The winds made for a challenging bike.  Luckily, we had the wind at our backs for the worst of the uphill portions.  It's obvious I need more time on the bike prior to Spirit of Racine, or the 56 miles there will hurt unless I slow way down.  Most importantly, no broken bike parts.  (There were a few serious wipeouts and a "race ending" flat).

I was concerned going into the run.  The bike had taken a lot out of me, and I haven't fully recovered from the marathon three weeks ago.  In the end, things went well.  As usual, the run was my best discipline.

In the end, I finished with an official time of 1:15:31 (my watch showed 1:16:31).  That was good enough for 21st overall (108), 19th among males (58), and 7th in my age group (23).  Most importantly, it was a 50-minute PR!

Editor's Note:  The clown who ran the race and wrote the post seems incapable of actually stopping his watch at the end of a race.  After a quick review, his watch shows a final time of 1:15:30 PLUS 42 seconds on a final "lap," most likely the time it took to get to the food tent.

By the numbers:

Swim - 2:46 (based on this, I REALLY doubt it was 220 yards.  It's probably closer to 150.  22nd overall)

T1 - 2:17 (This isn't timed by the event.  I went without socks, this race, which made a huge difference.  Lost that time to getting out of the wetsuit.)

Bike - 46:28 (19.3 mph).  For timing, they include T-1 time in the bike.  They show me as 48:34 for just over 16 mph (25th overall). (I have NO idea how the calculate those numbers)

T-2 - 1:01.  Continued without socks.  Struggled with my gloves.

Run - 22:58 (they have 24:06), 19th overall.

Okay, I know it might seem a stretch to relate Mary Poppins and endurance sports.  Of course, when you WATCH Mary Poppins the day before a marathon, it becomes clear.

When Mary first meets her charges Jane and Michael, she measures them up.  The tape she uses to measure them doesn't show feet and inches, it provides a description of the child's nature.  When the kids then ask how Mary herself measures up, the answer is "Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way."

That's how things went at the Green Bay Marathon, today.  From the weather to nutrition to pace, it was a great race.  And of course, the Green Bay Marathon isn't rated as one of the top ten favorite races for no reason.

The day started at 2:30 a.m. when my daughter woke up with chest congestion.  She wouldn't allow my wife to take care of her, and it was so close to my 3:30 wake up call that I just let her take my place in bed.  I got out of bed and started my pre-race routine.  The extra time allowed me to stretch fairly well and read a bit in a book.  After checking the weather (43F with an expected high of around 55F), I headed out the door.

After finally hooking up with my co-worker, we fought our way to the start line.  The pace teams were positioned a bit oddly, so we decided to set our own pace for the first few miles and then hook up with a group targeting 4 hours.  My plans called for shadowing that team until around 22 miles and then pulling ahead of them to go sub-4.

My co-worker's plans basically called for him to throw my plans out the window.

We passed the four hour crew somewhere around mile five.  Oddly, we passed another four hour crew around mile seven.  We crossed the half-marathon marker at about 1:51.  After that, a good deal of my time was spent letting my co-worker know we were WAY ahead of pace and had to be careful about blowing up.

The temperatures were perfect, and the winds were only somewhat annoying.  We hit every aid station as planned and went through a total of four Gu each.

We crossed 20 miles at 2:48, fully 12 minutes ahead of 4 hour pace.  Just before 22 miles, I stopped for a potty break, informing my co-worker I wouldn't be catching him if he maintained the same pace.  He slowed down enough for me to catch up to him at mile 22, where he told me he felt a "major kick" coming on.  I told him to have fun and that I wouldn't be going with him.

The final four miles were a challenge, and I managed to keep him within sight.  I picked up the pace a bit as I headed for Lambeau Field and finished strong.  I crossed the finish line at 3:41:38 chip time, for 8:28 pace.  My co-worker finished about 90 seconds before me, for an amazing 3:40 first marathon.

Most importantly, we managed to negative split.  For this, I think my co-worker deserves the credit.  Had I been running this myself, I certainly would have slowed down.  Past races have shown that I fade in the second half, and this was different because I wanted to be with him in case he needed help.  In the end, I probably needed more help then him.

So this race was, in fact, practically perfect in every way.  A negative split.  A PR by nearly 15 minutes.  And the first marathon of the seven I've completed where I did no walking other than planned slowdowns through aid stations.  It felt good crossing the finish line.  And it felt great knowing another co-worker became a marathoner.