
My biggest fear? To find out how badly my marathon spiraled out of control to end up at a pace about 1.5 minutes slower than it started out. The decay would have to be massive to destroy the first 16 miles of averaging around 7:45s.
I sat down to write. I remembered the importance of splits. You don't have to be a world-class athlete to keep splits. Looking at race splits is how you measure YOUR improvement -- the result of all the training. My college swim coach taught me to write them down no matter what. Before big meets or races, I always found myself in the pool office going through the folder containing my entire career's worth of splits -- learning what I did right and wrong and exactly where my races fell apart. Years later, my meticulously-kept running split book would help me finally conquer the Columbus Marathon course after several tries. Reviewing splits from years past illustrated where I needed to focus my effort -- a "dead zone" on the course, revealed only by my mile times. Even if you don't "race" races, learning how to pace yourself using splits can mean the difference between having a great experience or a miserable one.
I started writing. My swim and bike splits were the same as my official times. My total time, however, was about 2.5 hours slower than the clock time. Why? Because I stopped my watch on the way back to the hotel AFTER being treated for hypothermia. Had I even hit the split button upon finishing? I would know soon enough.
Reviewing my splits yielded a pleasant surprise! It actually confirmed what I still didn't know for sure: was I conscious in the last mile? did my brain and/or body actually shut down from the hypothermia? I now have answers. My brain DID begin to shut down -- and I was probably semi-UNconscious in the last mile. How do I know? Because the second-to-last split on my watch was indeed my finish time: 11:13:something. The split before it was mile 24. And my last 2.2 miles took over 24 MINUTES! (Up to mile 24, my average pace was still around 8:50 min/mi.) Part of me is relieved that I don't remember that last 2.2 miles, even though a "conscious me" would have finished faster. Still, the "unconscious me" managed to push the split button at the finish. Force of habit, perhaps?
After digesting this information, I realize how lucky I am to even have finished Ironman Coeur d'Alene. When Jim said I "looked bad" at the finish, I think he was being kind.
No comments:
Post a Comment