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

I actually had a pretty good night's sleep, or at least as well as you can given the circumstances. We got lucky last night and got into my favourite Disney restaurant for dinner, the Whispering Canyon Cafe. They have an all-you-can-eat skillet, filled with cornbread, smashed potatoes, beans, ribs, fried chicken, and pulled pork. Now that's recovery food.

After another early morning of preparation, I was off to the race site, this time by myself. I didn't consider it a great omen when our bus driver got lost ... twice. We managed to arrive well in time, and I again found myself a spot right up in the first corral, and I waited for the start. I talked briefly with a gentleman from Atlanta who was planning on running a sub-3, so I wished him luck, and made sure I didn't try to pace off him in the early miles. I felt pretty good after yesterday's effort, except I found a blister on my left heel. I was hoping it wouldn't be an issue during the run. Weather was similar to Saturday, maybe a bit cooler, but also a bit more humid. After the anthem and a send-off from Mickey and the gang, about 18,000 people headed off on the day's adventure.

Just like the day before, I wanted to settle into a comfortable rhythm. If anything, I wanted it to feel painfully slow. To meet my goal of a 3:35, I needed to run about 8:10 per mile. Imagine my surprise when I hit the first mile at 7:37. I forced myself back as much as I could handle. Again, my fitness is just much better than I expected. LSD FTW, indeed. I missed a few mile markers along the route, especially when passing through parks, but my pace stayed pretty even. During the initial miles, I was being passed pretty regularly. By mile 10, I was doing as much passing as I was getting passed. From mile 13 on, the ratio was 3:1 or better. A lot of people went out too hard and were coming back to me, while I was still hitting my pace.

This continued until after mile 20. My effort was increasing, but my pace wasn't dropping. Then the wobble set in. I can't say the wheels came off (that was NYC), but the nuts holding them on were getting loose. In the last few miles, my pace slowed appreciably. Part of the problem was the heat, humidity, and the fact I had run 22 miles. Understandable. The other part of the problem was that the course has a few bumps, walking bridges mostly (that in any other circumstance would NEVER be called a hill), that sucked all the speed from me. Any momentum would get shut down, and my legs were too tired to use the downhills to my advantage. These four or five "hills" really took a lot out of me at the end. During the final mile, I tried to pick up some speed, but couldn't get much going. When I made the turn to the finishing straight and saw the clock, I knew I would meet my new goal (decided en route), and just enjoyed those last few strides.

Splits:
Mile 1 - 7:37
Mile 2/3 - 15:57
Mile 4 - 7:39
Mile 5 - 7:54
Mile 6 - 7:46
Mile 7 - 7:51
Mile 8 - 7:49
Mile 9/10 - 15:22
Mile 11 - 8:02
Mile 12 - 7:52
Mile 13 - 7:57
Mile 14 - 7:52
Mile 15 - 7:58
Mile 16 - 7:58
Mile 17 - 8:01
Mile 18 - 7:52
Mile 19 - 7:59
Mile 20 - 8:11
Mile 21 - 7:55
Mile 22 - 8:12
Mile 23 - 8:20
Mile 24 - 7:59
Mile 25/26 - 17:24
Mile 26.2 - <1:50

Before I reveal my finishing time, I have another story to tell. When I got back into running two years ago for the NYC Marathon, I had as my goal to run sub-3:20, the 200 minute barrier. As my preparation progressed, it become clear that I wouldn't accomplish that, so I was shooting for a 3:30. That day, I ran a 3:31:26, a good time (top 8%), but those extra 87 seconds have been niggling at me for over two years. I always felt bad saying that I had run a marathon in about 3 and half hours, because I wasn't sub-3:30. At Disney (here's the cliche coming up), there was something magical happening. I felt fantastic. I hit the half-marathon point at 1:42:37. If I could do the second half in 1:47, I could crack that 3:30 barrier. That became my carrot during those last hard miles. Every stride was to avoid using up the time I had banked. And when I crossed that line at 3:29:12 (3:29:20 by the clock), I had done it. I am a sub-3:30 marathoner, and I did it the day after a quick half-mary. I raised the Guns Up, released a silent scream, and fist-pumped my way through the crowd. The first volunteer I came upon asked, "How are you feeling, Drew?" (our names are on our bibs). "Fantastic." As I had my marathon medal hung around my neck, it got a little dusty in the finisher's corral. I picked up some drinks and water, dumping one on my head and legs to try to clean up and cool off. I thanked every volunteer within shouting distance. I received my Goofy medal, had my pictures taken, walked through baggage check, and met my family. I lack the words to describe the joy, relief and amazement I felt at my own race. I didn't really think I was in 3:30 shape, and I definitely didn't think I was able to do it on the second day. But there it is, now and forever.

Will I do another marathon? Someday, I'm sure I will. Disney? Perhaps. Will I go faster? Almost without question, since I'm finally figuring out the best ways for myself to train. But this day, today, will always be a fond memory, when a result I never could have imagined at the start of the day became a reality.