Tokyo Marathon

I ran well at the Tokyo Marathon Sunday, finishing in 2:55:50, a personal best by over 10 minutes.

When I say I ran well, what I mostly mean is my pacing. Or to a certain extent Martin Verdier's pacing, since we ran together and traded off on pace for almost the entire run. Here are my 5k (gun) splits:

5k 22:32
10k 20:26
15k 20:28
20k 20:39
25k 20:35
30k 20:29
35k 20:45
40k 21:07
42k 9:18

Among the most challenging aspects of the day was coping with handing in my bag of warm clothes and then waiting in driving rain at the starting line. After that, the running felt relatively easy, at least until we reached the first turnaround at 15k and faced a bit of headwind.

When I reached the halfway mark in 1:28:20 I wondered about my chances of breaking 3 hours. I was already tiring, and everyone knows that marathoners slow down after 30k. That I actually managed to run a slightly faster second-half of the race could be attributed to:
1. Gels - 30grams of carbohydrates every 35-minutes
2. Martin and the other supporters - Elite athletes stay within themselves and focus on form, but talking and cheering other people helped me considerably
3. The psychological boost of overtaking 2,500 runners from the 2k mark to the finish.
4. Long training runs - My overall training was moderate, but I did four quality 30k-plus runs in the final weeks leading up to the marathon plus many long trail runs

Apparently I was 353rd overall. Given the caliber of the local running community, I am surprised to finish so high.

When I staggered to the finish of the Seattle Marathon in a time of 3:07 I told myself that I would be back and break 3 hours. Well it took 26 years, but it is good to finally run sub 3 hours (as evidenced by the film footage of the finish

Caffeine Taper - 2

Clearly the lack of caffeine is taking a terrible toll on me. I have been irritable and can't concentrate at work. I am staggering through the day, my mind in a thick fog and my head throbbing.

The plan was to cut down to less than 50mg per day of caffeine (the equivalent of half of a small cup of coffee), in the days leading up to the marathon, then get the boost of a triple espresso on Sunday morning, 45 minutes before the marathon. But this afternoon I broke down and bought a short Americano.

As I sit here sipping my caffeinated beverage, a sense of well-being and peace begins to seep back through my consciousness. But at the same time I am shattered to think I will still be wrestling with the coffee demons on Sunday morning.

Recalling my last marathon

In order to gain perspective on Sunday's marathon effort, I try to remember what I experienced the last time I ran a marathon*.  But the last time I ran a marathon was so very, very, very long ago (hint - Jimmy Carter was still in the White House), that all recollection is fuzzy.  I vaguely recall the following:

1. The rain -  Unrelenting cold wind and rain gusted off Seattle's Lake Washington.  It was a typical November day in Seattle.  No matter how wet it gets this Sunday, I am not terribly concerned about the impact on my run.  I am concerned that rain will dampen the crowd and fun and socializing (isn't this the main point of the event?).

2. The wall - I faded badly around 20 miles, walking much of the last few miles with other runners shouting encouragement as they went by me.  They say that the mind cannot remember pain, but I remembered it well enough that I did not enter another marathon for over a quarter century.  I have no recollection what I consumed during the marathon, but I am certain now that it was grossly inadequate, and a factor in my meltdown.  One of my main process goals on Sunday is to eat a gel or banana every 30 minutes.

3. My result - I finished in about 3:07.  So if I run reasonably OK on Sunday, I should be able to establish a new personal best time.  The marathon is one of the few major running distances where I have a realistic chance of posting a new lifetime PB. 

* In this case I am not considering the 42.1 kilometers of Ironman to be a "marathon".  The walking/running tactics and constant eating make it seem like a different event entirely.

Asics store

Today I visit Asics' first brand store, which opened this week in the Ginza area of Tokyo.

More than just a shoe store, the company says it is seeking to facilitate a whole "running lifestyle". I am signed up as one of the first store "members," though I have not yet achieved blue or platinum membership, so I don't know if I can use the shower facilities or join the group training run.

Of course the evil empire, Nike, launched their own dedicated, destination retail outlet, "Nike Town" years ago - with its overwhelming, in-your-face, videos, loud music, signage, colorful lights, lots of Maria Sharapova and Lebron James. All Las Vegas style hype not really aimed at the serious athlete.

The Asics store on the other hand is an austere, stark space of brushed metal and bright white light, like a contemporary art museum, with running shoes displayed like precious pieces of modern art.

The curators, I mean sales staff, in their sharp black outfits, intently explain the product features with loving reverence. The whole process certainly reinforced my image of the Asics brand as a being technologically superior.

Caffeine Taper

In preparation for the marathon, other athletes are focusing on reducing their mileage and increasing carbohydrate intake. Not me. I am focused on reducing my caffeine intake. This "caffeine taper" is crucial to surviving 3+ hours of grueling caffeine deprivation (not to mention running).

This week I began diluting my daily morning coffee (not my afternoon coffee though). Friday morning I blended one spoonful of decaffeinated coffee and two spoonfuls of the regular caffeinated stuff. Today I blended 50% decaffeinated and 50% caffeinated. The dream is to achieve a low coffee consumption level by next Sunday. Wish me luck.

Kanagawa

You may not think a running event that starts from a cooking oil factory, runs for 5 kilometers under a concrete expressway, past a sewage treatment plant, around a large electric power station and then back under the expressway sounds so terribly appealing.  And if that doesn't sound bad enough, you have to repeat the whole thing twice.  But the Kanagawa Half-Marathon is one of the highlights of the winter running schedule here, and so on Sunday I traveled to the Kanagawa Half an hour south of Tokyo with 17 of my teammates.

Prior to the run, I had a very clear vision of race strategy - teammates Martin Verdier and Juergen and I would run together at a pace of around 3:50 per kilometer (which would feel magically comfortable), then we would try to pick it up a bit toward the end.  This idyllic fantasy seemed to be materializing for the first 5 kilometers.  Martin and I caught up with a Juergen after a quick start and we all ran as a team.  I tried to encourage our squad to stay together loudly singing the Sister Sledge song:
"We are fa-ma-ly-
Mar-tin and Juer-gen and me"
and referring to us as the three musketeers (trois musketeers corrected our French teammate Martin). Teruyuki ran with us for a while so we were the four musketeers (or quatre musketeers).  Around 5k Juergen begun warning us that the our pace was too fast, but tragically I failed to heed his warning and soon it was down to just deux musketeers - Martin and I. 

My strength quickly began to drain away, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable, but still hung on to this 3:45 pace up to the 16 kilometer mark at which point the wheels came off completely and everything went terribly, terribly wrong.  Martin looked back at me and I waved him off with a "gambatte".  As I struggled slowly through the final 5-kilometers, I repeatedly smiled and shouted when I saw a Nambanner running past in the opposite direction, sortof a sad, pathetic effort to put on a front, as if to say "noo proooblem - I may be bent over and shuffling and drooling, but actually this is only my training pace and I am feeling just chipper".

Of course one thing kept me going - knowing a bottle of cooking oil straight off the assembly line is waiting at the finish line.   In the end it was all worth it -- I got my cooking oil, and over french toast and coffee at Denny's we all regaled each other with our tales of our exploits earlier in the day amidst the freeways, sewage plants and factories.

Winter Training Update

This ostensibly being a triathlon training blog, I suppose it is about time I summarize my training. Since early December my cycling has dwindled to nothing (due to cold weather and disenchantment with riding around the Oifuto cycling course). I am hoping that when I start cycling again in March, this 10-week layoff will not have caused too great a loss of conditioning. Meanwhile I have continued to swim 2-3 times per week, while increasing my running to 4 times per week in January from 3 times per week throughout most of 2006. This increased run training includes longer "cruise intervals" on Wednesday nights, and for the past 3 weeks, long runs at Tokyo's imperial palace. Here is total weekly triathlon training hours and weekly running mileage for the past 11 weeks:

Week / Triathlon Hours / Running Mileage
Nov 12 - 18 9:30 hours 18 km
Nov 19 - 26 9:00 hours 67 km
Nov 26- 12/2 7:30 hours 37 km
Dec 3 - 9 8:30 hours 56 km
Dec 10 - 16 2:00 hours 18 km
Dec 17 - 23 4:30 hours 48 km
Dec 24 - 30 10:30 hours 55 km
Dec 31 - 1/6 5:30 hours 39 km
Jan 7 - 13 9:30 hours 68 km
Jan 14 - 20 9:15 hours 78 km
Jan 21 - 27 8:15 hours 70 km

Wallet Mystery

Among my most consistent rituals is the Wednesday night track workout. At the track, like everywhere in Japan I have been completely unconcerned about crime (in contrast to say when I lived near South-Central Los Angeles in the early 1990s and one was expected to maintain a state of vigilance on a 24-hour basis). After a while you just grow relaxed here -- twice in Japan I have left my wallet on the train and each time it returned, cash intact. Once I left my passport on a public phone, and another time I left my cell phone in a taxi and again they were quickly returned to me. So when I finish my running workout and shower and my wallet is not in my pants pocket I immediately assume I somehow dropped it. However, I cannot find the wallet in a quick search of the surrounding area, and I know I must have had the wallet when I arrived at the locker room and put my pants in the locker. My locker was only unlocked for a matter of minutes while I showered, and surely no one would brazenly reach into the locker, take out my trousers, remove my wallet, and then neatly fold and replace my pants in that time? I start to grow concerned when the lost & found at the track office does not have my wallet and they send me to the nearby koban (the neighborhood police box).

I spend hours at the koban, a bizarrely low-tech process -- the police officer scribbles notes on tiny scraps of paper and then with glacial slowness rewrites them into a multi-page report which I certify by applying a thumbprint in dozens of different spots. The report is all in Japanese so I have no idea what I am actually certifying.

By the time I am through at the Koban it is late at night but I still am able to catch up with a few teammates nearby and manage to borrow a few thousand yen from Chris to get home and buy a rice ball for dinner. The effort and concern on the part of the Japanese teammates and track staff is astonishing -

• the area garbage collectors are put on alert to look for a wallet as they sort the trash
  
• a team of student assistants is mobilized to scour every locker
  
• Namban teammate, Chiba-san, contacts various local officials to pressure them to crack this heinous case
  

But days pass and the wallet does not materialize. Technically I am supposed to replace my alien registration card right away, but I naively cling to the expectation that my wallet will appear in my mailbox any day now.