WDW Goofy's Race and a Half Challenge Race Report - Part One

Early. That's the first thing to note about the WDW Marathon weekend. Everything is done very early. The gun goes off at 6 am. Racers are called to the corrals at 4:45. The last bus to the start area leaves the resorts at 4. All this requires a wake-up around 3 am. So that's when my day started. At 3 in the morning (or night, depending on how you look at it).

The weather was in most respects an improvement from two years ago. Temperatures in the low 60s, with a light breeze. Definitely a step up from the near-freezing temps of last time. Apparently, the weather was even hotter last year, so I was glad about that, but it was still warmer than I'd prefer for racing, and much more humid. The humidity was about 95% when we left the hotel. At race intensity, that's like breathing through soup.

Claire and I met my mom at our hotel for the trip to the start area, and after checking our bags, and calming some nerves, we parted ways around 5 as we headed for the corrals. I was up in the front of Wave 1, while as new racers they were in the last corral of Wave 3. I found a clear piece of turf on the road of Corral A, and sat down to watch the big screen and pass the time until we were off.

My goals for this weekend were pretty simple. I wanted to finish in the top 100 of the Goofy Challenge participants (even though it's not an official competition). My first year, I was 117th. Based on the field, I figured that a weekend of 1:45/3:35 (improvement from 1:52/3:45) should put me in a very good position. Those were the times I had trained the last four months for, and really felt that I should be able to battle my way to them. The flu bug from last week, a lingering cough, and this awful humidity weren't doing much to steel my confidence, but I decided all I could do was hit my paces as well as possible, and if I blew up, then I would blow up spectacularly.

Once the fireworks went off, I tried to get into my rhythm as quickly as possible. My competitive instinct can make it tough, but I had to decide not to race the people around me, and do what I came to do. I can get caught up in the mind games of "I'm fitter than him, I need to pass him and prove my dominance". (This based strictly on appearance, and not a fair judgment at all, but it's what I do.) The crowd helped rein me in over the first mile, but as the field dissipated, I found I was running much faster than intended. However, I was running VERY easily. To say I was cruising is to imply a higher level of effort than was there. I had to make a decision: force myself to slow down in fear of the explosion, or ride this feeling of power as long as I wasn't being taxed.

I went with option number two. If I felt this good, I had to play along. Anything less would be a disservice. We hit all the major attractions, and at each mile marker I knew I was in good shape. I was talking to the crowd, thanking them for their support, cheering them to cheer for the runners. At mile 10, I decided I could open things up a little, just to stretch my legs. I rolled to the line, invoking a big crowd reaction (there's a picture of me at mile 13 waving my arms to the crowd to make some noise), and stopped the clock. I collected my medal, and began the recovery process. Lots of food and energy drink. I found a bench to relax for a bit, talked with some families who were there to cheer their runners, then found a spot on fence to cheer the arrival of my wife and my mom. As good as my race went, the fact that they finished a half-marathon inside the cut-off (well inside as it turned out) was the most special part of the day. I couldn't have been more proud.

The splits:
1 - 7:47
2 - 7:22
3 - 7:27
4 - 7:18
5 - 7:23
6 - 7:28
7 - 7:26
8 - 7:25
9 - 7:34
10 - 7:32
11 - 7:26
12 - 7:19
13 - 7:17
13.1 - <0.49>. Or looking at it another way, I felt that I could hold that pace for another 13, and put up at 3:15 mary. But I needed to keep things in check for tomorrow. That's when the piper gets paid.