Detroit Marathon: The Race

During the Detroit Freepress Marathon, I wanted to break three hours (roughly 6:51 pace). This has been my goal for two other marathons: ING New York City and Flying Pig in Cincinnati, OH. I came close in NYC (3:03), but failed miserably in Cincinnati (3:10). Third time is the charm?

Miles 1-13

The marathon can be broken down into several parts. The first part was the run leading up to the Bridge to Canada. It’s basically the part of Detroit that I’m scared to be in after dark. I think one time I got lost there when I tricked picking up my parents from the airport. Kids were riding their bicycles toward traffic at night. I was terrified! I also stopped off to use a port-o-potty because I was running late getting to the starting line. I think that little detour cost me around 30 seconds.

The bridge to Canada was a little worse/steeper than I expected. I think they closed off a single lane (that was, from what I’m told, difficult to navigate as the crowd became thicker). It was a little difficult to get out of the disabled participants’ way at times. It was a great feeling to look out over the water and see the sunrise from a bridge that I normally wouldn’t be able to run. The Canadian security guards were friendly in checking our bibs and greeting us. There were decidedly less Canadian crowd support, and it was a little quiet if uninteresting part of the marathon. In Canada I met my nemesis, the tutu wearing man. The crowd went NUTS for this guy as if they had never seen a boorish semi-transvestite before, and I decided that I needed to pass him because he was stealing my thunder.

The tunnel back to Detroit was interesting to run in if only because it is one of the only marathons where you can run underneath water for an extended period of time. I felt at times that the white tiled tunnel was expanding as I ran though it like I was part of an uninteresting Twilight Zone episode. In terms of elevation, it was like running on an upside down bridge: downhill first, uphill last. After that incline, there wouldn’t be another significant rise in elevation for the rest of the race.

Arriving back in the United States was a little disquieting because US border control meant BUSINESS. They were very, very serious. I suppose it’s their job, but honestly who is going to sneak into a marathon to cross the border from Canada? This isn’t a Mentos commercial. We ran around Cobo Hall, much like the Turkey Trot and then through downtown and got to see the beautiful buildings that no one inhabit anymore. My parents were in the crowd in the downtown area. My mom made a sign that read, “Robert/ Vite/ Va/ Vitesse” which doesn’t really mean anything in French, but it was nice and gave me something to ponder.

The highlight of Mexican town was a three piece mariachi band! I wish I could’ve stopped and listened to them for longer. Then we ran by this Oxichmilco that I ate in one time and it was delicious. There are some really lovely houses in Detroit... I wonder if they are targeted by gangs.

We looped back through the city where my friend, Dave, was cheering. He was planning to run with Craig for the second half of the marathon. I think I crossed the halfway mark (13.1 miles) with a time of 1:30:55, which is nearly a minute off my mark and five seconds per mile slower than where I needed to be.

Miles 13 -26.2

I don’t know what happened for the next few miles, but I felt GOOD. For the first time I thought that I could really break three hours. There wasn’t many people around, and I started to really pick up the pace. I heard a woman call to a nearby biker when the roads would open. I wanted to tell her, “Never,” but I conserved my strength. Within the next four or five miles, I was all caught up to where I needed to be and I was actually was running a deficit. I was in good shape. Then in Indian Village at around mile 18, where the houses are stunning, I crapped out a little. I was about to start walking for a spell, then I snapped out of it. I kept going. I also really felt the urge to go to the bathroom, but I held it in and eventually it went away.

After Indian Village there is a long expanse of road that leads to Belle Isle. There are a lot of fast food and strip malls before you get there. Stimulating! There was a nice little bridge leading into Belle Isle, where I had never been before. It’s really beautiful there because it’s almost all parks. There is a large arboretum that looks like it could use a serious washing. By the time I hit mile 21, I ran out of gas. I could feel myself slowing down, despite willing my legs to move. I don’t think I necessarily hit the wall, but there was a definite point where I just pooped out.

I stopped for a minute, and it felt like I was having an out of body experience. I walked for maybe 20 seconds and tried to run for a mile. I kept on that pattern – run for one mile, walk 20 seconds – for the rest of the marathon. I was a bit disappointed, but more than that, I was tired. Could I have held on physically? Maybe, but it would’ve taken a willful act of God to sustain it. I didn’t have to walk, but I thought it was a winning tactic that turned out not to be so great. I think once I stop, it’s a sign of the beginning of the end. I kept running, each time thinking I could pick up the pace, but I could not.

The run finished where it started, but 3 hours, 1 minute, and 45 seconds later. I was happy for it to be over. My legs felt like they were hobbled by Kathy Bates from Misery. I was pleased with my finishing time, but not satisfied. There will always be another race... Fourth time is the charm?

Addendum: The post race festivities weren’t as I expected. Instead of playing any of the music from Detroit’s long music history, they played this really weird techno. I know, I know. Detroit is credited with the birth of techno, but it was really awful and not a crowd pleaser at all. Work on it, Detroit Freepress Marathon.