My last marathon was five years ago, and my 3:43 finish gave me delusions of a BQ for a while – so much so that overtraining led to a series of ankle tendon and back injuries. Last year’s combination of a heart attack and stricter BQ standards put all that out of my head, and actually made running more enjoyable. I’ve logged 1,400 miles this year, and it seemed a waste not to let it culminate in a marathon.

I used to suffer from taper madness, but the combination of racing during the taper and old age just made me feel rested. I awoke at 4 a.m. yesterday morning after a full night’s sleep, completely ready for the race. The weather was cold and clear, in the low 30s at the start, with only light winds. Perfect marathon weather, actually. It was a long bus ride to the start in Folsom, but I simply zoned out.

More than 7,900 people registered for the marathon, and there were another 1,000 relay teams, so it was pretty crowded at the start. I lined up with the 4:40 pace group, figuring it to be right in the middle of the range of where I might possibly finish (4:20-5:00).

Mile 1 – 10:32

Mile 2 – 10:18

Mile 3 – 9:56

Mile 4 – 9:50

Mile 5 – 9:59

Mile 6 – 9:53

Mile 7 – 10:12

Mile 8 – 10:16

I ran an average 10:10 in my 20-mile race three weeks ago, so I felt this 10:07 average through 8 miles was just right. I felt great, the crowds were great (I loved the folks near Mile 2 with the sign “You are NOT almost there!” and the dudes with the “Free ride to the finish” sign). There were Native American drummers, high school bands, people with cups of coffee standing in their driveways, the whole nine yards.

Mile 9 – 10:21

Mile 10 – 10:08

Mile 11 – 10:08

Mile 12 -10:18

Mile 13 – 10:18

Mile 14 – 10:09

I should mention one thing about CIM: Don’t fall for all that “fastest course in the West” and “all downhill” nonsense. The best part of the course is that it’s almost entirely flat after Mile 18, but there are a lot of rolling hills in the first half of the race and they can wear you down if you’re not careful. I was thrilled to be right on 10:10 average pace at Mile 14, but I was having a problem.

Back at Mile 9, I noticed I was listing to the left. I wasn’t experiencing anything but the normal discomfort, but despite multiple efforts to correct my form, I was leaning to one side and kept ending up on the left-side of the road. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I kept pressing on.

Mile 15 – 10:46

Mile 16 – 11:02

Mile 17 – 10:57

Mile 18 – 11:29

Mile 19 – 11:39

I was running along steadily, but both hip joints and IT bands stiffened up on me, and I was no longer listing to the left, but entirely bent to the left. I felt like I was running with braces on both my legs, and my splits suffered accordingly. At this point I was still at an average 10:26 pace with a steady, low heart rate, well-fueled and well-hydrated, and actually feeling pretty strong otherwise. But at this point I made a rookie mistake.

Mile 20 – 12:57

Mile 21 – 12:56

Mile 22 – 13:49

Mile 23 – 13:49

Mile 24 – 13:06

You guessed it – I slowed to a walk and tried to stretch out my problems. Instead, my legs took it as a signal that we were done for the day and completely locked up. I couldn’t comfortably flex anything below my waist. The only good thing about the situation is that running and walking hurt equally, so I shuffled my way through the late miles. I could tell it looked really bad because spectators were shouting to the runners in front of me “You look great! You’re gonna do it!” and then when I would pass they would yell “Hang in there!”

I entered a Zen state as I moseyed along. My legs were so stiff, but I was able to take in the sights and sounds of the last few miles much more so than in previous marathons. The crowds were uniformly encouraging, and it really was a lift to hear them cheer. In previous years, all the noise would irritate me, but this time I welcomed it.

Mile 25 – 13:46

Mile 26 – 13:29

As I passed the final mile marker and made the turn for the Capitol steps, I saw the giant clock and realized there was only one last thing to shoot for. It was fast approaching 5 hours gun time and I thought I would feel better if my finish line photo did not have a “5″ as the first number. So I tried to pick up speed, but my stride was grotesque, and I ended up crossing the line at 5:00:02.

FINISH: 4:56:11. 4,658th out of 5,755 finishers. 298th out of 363 in the 50-54 age group.

God knows what my finish line photo will look like, as I tried to lift my arms and threw myself even further off-balance. My head is probably out of frame.

I got my cookie, bagel and hot tomato soup and found the Lovely Mrs. A., without whom I’d probably still be lying in a little ball beneath the Capitol Christmas tree. She bundled me into the car, got me a giant cup of coffee, and got me home in one piece. She is an angel.

So here I am today, either tethered to a chair or stumbling around like Frankenstein’s monster, but generally content with life. I was capable of running better, but so what? The last seven miles were not a triumphant farewell to marathoning, but just painful enough to ensure that I never do it again. Couple it with how absolutely wonderful I felt after the half-marathon two weeks ago, and I’m really looking forward to being half-marathon guy for the duration.

I probably won’t be running at all for the rest of the month, and will ease into 2012 with a lot of low mileage weeks. My hips are already celebrating.

My plan was to run marathon pace throughout, but naturally I didn’t adhere to the plan. It was a great race, and if I could only account for the time warp I ran through, I would have no complaints whatsoever.

The worrisome winter storm that was forecast blew through the Monterey Bay peninsula overnight, so the morning was brisk but only partly cloudy. More than 6,100 runners took part in the half, lined up in 11 corrals. I was in #4, so we would start nine minutes after the elites.

There were nearly two women for every man entered. Although I was told this is not unusual, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the field so skewed.

Mile 1 – 10:25

Mile 2 – 9:44

Mile 3 – 9:30

The beginning of the race winds through downtown Monterey, across a pond bridge, under a tree canopy, and through a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a bagpiper strangling his instrument. Of course my Garmin lost lock while we were in the tunnel, but ultimately recorded the correct time and distance for that mile. I mention it only because I can’t figure out what happened later.

Crowd support was tremendous, with folks lined up above the tunnel, and a group of women with a hand-made sign that read, “Hurry up and finish! There’s a sale at Anthropologie!”

Speaking of signs, the race commissioned unique mile markers (you can read about them here). They were all pretty cool, but my favorite was the first one:

Mile 4 – 9:30

Mile 5 – 9:10

Mile 6 – 9:05

The course is rolling terrain throughout, but the only nasty hill is just before Mile 4. I knew it was coming, so I gathered myself and covered it without much trouble. It’s worth it for the best part of the entire race. After about another half-mile, you come down a hill and have a spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean in the cold, early morning. I’m not big on sightseeing during races, but this just made me glad to be out running.

Mile 7 – 9:17

Mile 8 – 9:12

Mile 9 – 9:14

Because of the design of the route, the turnaround point is actually at 7.5 miles, up the side of a short, steep hill. In past years, this was a relatively lonely stretch, but with the expansion of the size of the field, it was almost a logjam. Heading back into town, I felt terrific and was having no difficulty at all maintaining my pace.

I did a little mental math at Mile 9, and saw I could finish sub-2 if I completed the last 4.1 in slightly less than 35 minutes. I calculated somewhere between 8:30 and 8:45 per mile. That seemed out of reach, but I thought I could get close.

Mile 10 – 9:00

Mile 11 – 9:03

Mile 12 – 8:52

A sub-2 was shot, but I was racing past dozens of runners, cruised down Cannery Row, and really gunned it along the bike trail to cover the last half-mile.

Mile 13 – 8:27

.1 – 0:49

Finish: 2:01:14 – Well, not really. Because clock time was 2:12:32, and chip time ended up being 2:03:01. Still a 2011 PR, but almost two minutes slower than my Garmin indicated for the same distance. 1,813th out of 6,104 finishers. 93rd of 211 in 50-54 age group.

But who cares about that stuff? The important thing is the load of post-race goodies, including a big vanilla sugar cookie, minestrone soup and, of course, beer.

The Big Sur Half Marathon on Monterey Bay is really a tremendous destination race. You’ll want to spend some time in the area before and after, just for the atmosphere and the eateries. I highly recommend the chicken and spinach aglio olio at Louie Linguini’s for your pre-race carbs, and just about anything at the Trailside Cafe for your post-race brunch.

Two weeks of tapering with Thanksgiving thrown in. I’m really looking forward to it.

That’s what got me out there yesterday morning. It was excellent running weather, although I wasn’t crazy about the 9 a.m. start time, since it promised to get warm around noon.

I didn’t really feel the need to go, but I got in the porta-potty line at 8:40. For some reason, the runners were slow pissers because the gun went off right at 9 and I was still in line. Throwing caution to the wind, I got out of line and bolted to the start.

Mile 1 – 10:10

Mile 2 – 10:02

Mile 3 – 10:19

Mile 4 – 10:21

On my two previous 20-milers I averaged a 10:48 and 10:21 pace. In both cases, my first mile was well over 11 minutes. So I was pretty concerned about the speed I was going, even though it felt really slow.

Mile 5 – 10:04

Mile 6 – 9:43

Mile 7 – 9:23

Mile 8 – 9:40

There was nothing to look at but wine and women – that is, vineyards and the mostly female pack going at my speed. You’d think I’d be able to focus on my pace but I was all over the place. I thought I was going according to plan… if my plan had been to run the half-marathon.

Mile 9 – 9:58

Mile 10 – 9:46

Mile 11 – 9:53

Mile 12 – 9:47

The sun was already beating down around the turnaround point, but fortunately a cold breeze picked up and we entered the shade of the levee trail. So the temperature wasn’t an issue, but the slant of the trail made it feel as though I was running along the side of a hill.

Mile 13 – 9:48

Mile 14 – 10:01

Mile 15 – 10:30

Mile 16 – 10:31

No great trauma or horrible mishap. I was feeling OK and moving along steadily without falter. I just couldn’t maintain that 10-minute pace. The race volunteers were terrific, but they were the only people out there. Could have definitely used some distraction at this point.

Mile 17 – 10:32

Mile 18 – 10:34

Mile 19 – 10:57

Mile 20 – 10:31

Lots of people walking. I latched onto that 10:30 pace pretty well, although the hill at Mile 19 took a lot out of me. I was feeling grim after that, but finally perked up when off in the distance I spotted the 6-mile marker – not our 6-mile marker, but the one for the 10k. I was so focused on that 6, I wanted to cheer when I reached it, but managed to contain myself for the last few hundred yards.

Finish – 3:23:13. 241st out of 455. 39th of 55 in 50-59 age group.

Ended up with a 10:10 average pace, which was a decent improvement over my last 20-miler, but I felt thrashed. They were serving hot pasta, bread and coleslaw in the cafeteria, but the aroma was making me ill at that point, so I grabbed some fruit and lots of water. I was fully recovered in a matter of minutes.

Taper time! I’m running the Big Sur Half Marathon on Monterey Bay next Sunday, but plan on doing it at marathon pace, which I think should be around 10:20. Then it’s two more weeks before my third, and final, CIM.

Yep, I’ve already made the determination that this will be my last marathon. I know everyone always says that, but 15-16 miles is the absolute max I can enjoy anymore. I want to run one more marathon because I’m finally healthy enough to do so, but I’m strictly half-marathon guy after that.

Yesterday was the Urban Cow Half Marathon, an event that has grown geometrically over the last few years. Last year I could only manage the 5k due to an injury, then had a heart attack four days later, so anything short of a lightning strike would be an improvement. I’m feeling great, but I did miss a week of running after a slight groin pull during the Buffalo Stampede three weeks ago, so I wasn’t sure how well I’d do.

The weather was terrific – cool if a little humid at the start. I lined up with the 2:15 pace group, though I was hoping to beat the 2:06:54 I ran in May.

Mile 1 – 10:00

Mile 2 – 9:51

Mile 3 – 9:33

Jeez, what a mob! I’m not used to seeing such a huge crowd of runners in little ol’ Sacramento. Nevertheless, I went out faster than I really wanted to. But my heart rate was hovering around 125 and I was having no issues whatsoever, so I kept going.

Mile 4 – 9:27

Mile 5 – 9:35

Mile 6 – 9:23

I settled down into a comfortable pace. Mile 5 had one of only two significant hills on the course. I came up on a guy during the uphill, trying to “pass with authority,” when he spotted me, turned, and took off like a rabbit. He kept looking back at me, but I wasn’t following him. I thought, “Either this guy is much better than the pace he’s running or he’s gonna deflate at the top of this hill.” It turned out to be the latter. I kept a steady pace to the top then passed him easily on the other side. I didn’t see his expression but I heard him exhale… forcefully.

Mile 7 – 9:20

Mile 8 – 9:12

Mile 9 – 9:14

The race had a neat feature you don’t see too often in half-marathons. Because there was a two-person relay associated with the half, there was a large arch at 6.55 miles with the elapsed time on top and a timing mat to cross. I hit the halfway mark at 1:03:15, which was about 3 1/2 minutes faster than last time. I picked up speed gradually as we ran along the levee next to the railroad tracks. Physically, I felt great though I have to admit I was starting to get a bit bored.

Mile 10 – 9:02

Mile 11 – 9:01

Mile 12 – 8:57

I wasn’t exactly flying at this point, but once again I was running my fastest miles at the end of the race. I started using Clif Shot Bloks a few months ago and found they help me a lot. I don’t particularly like chewing anything during a race, but I take one (33 calories) every two miles rather than squeezing a GU (100 calories) every six miles. It levels out my sugar levels so I don’t hit those highs and lows I used to. As usual, I carried a 24-oz. water bottle filled with tropical Gatorade and took a couple of swigs every other mile.

Mile 13 – 8:44

There was another big balloon arch with a half-mile to go that read, “Let’s mooooove it!” So I did. Passed quite a few people in that kick, though a lot of runners had the same idea and I crossed the finish line in a pack of about 10 folks.

Finish – 2:03:08. 1,144th out of 3,536. 79th of 147 in age group. Completed the second half of the race in 59:53, giving me a negative split of about 3 1/2 minutes.

The post-race spread was pretty good, with some delicious oatmeal cookies and chocolate milk, but I headed over to the beer garden for a tasty Marzen from Sudwerk. It was a “B” beer for a “B” performance.

Now it’s heavily into marathon training. I signed up for the Clarksburg Country Run on November 13 because it’s 20 miles three weeks before the marathon, a distance I was going to run on my own anyway. The following week I’ve got the Big Sur Half Marathon on Monterey Bay. The only goal for both is to cover the distance and establish a marathon pace for the California International Marathon on December 4.

It was a pleasant, cloudy morning with a slight breeze. The Migration consisted of 210 runners and walkers and another 277 ran in the Stampede.

Mile 1 – 9:31

Mile 2 – 9:12

Mile 3 – 9:14

Whatever gets you through your race is fine with me, and I know I’m a sour old grump, but the incessant loud gabbing that goes on in the back of the pack invariably spurs me on to greater speed. No interesting information ever appeared in a sentence that began, “My orthodontist said…” Most of us don’t really care how many Facebook friends you have. I’m thrilled your kids like their new teacher, but in the early morning on a quiet street your voice carries a long way.

Mile 4 – 9:15

Mile 5 – 9:13

Mile 6 – 9:03

So by the time I reach the halfway point I’ve settled into a pretty good groove, a bit faster than I trained. I feel neither good nor bad, just average. The aid station at mile 5 is manned by school kids and their teacher/coach. While the kids yell “Water!” and “Sports drink!” the coach yells, “Doughnuts!” My man!

I head over there and find those fat pills have been cut into quarters for easy handling and digestion. I grab a Homer Simpson special, pink sprinkles and all. As I shove the delicious morsel in my mouth, the kids start to chant, “Chew! Chew!”

Well I don’t know if it was the sugar or the psychological boost, but I picked up speed and felt much better afterwards.

Mile 7 – 9:03

Mile 8 – 8:46

Mile 9 – 8:54

I’m getting that same feeling I got down the stretch of my last half-marathon. I’m going faster and feeling more comfortable. Everything is rosy as I pass the mile 8 marker – and pull my right groin muscle.

There was no doubt that’s what it was, and for a few strides it hurt nasty-bad, but I worried that if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to start up again. So I kept running, it stayed loose, and the pain dissipated.

Mile 10 – 8:31

Does it make me a bad person if I admit that I really enjoy “passing with authority” in the latter miles of a long race? Some runners are so focused on themselves they don’t even notice you, but the best ones are the runners who hear you coming, glance back, then try to stay with you as motor by. You can literally hear the air go out of them as you pull away. It’s an added bonus if it’s someone who zipped past you in the early miles. I passed at least a dozen people in the last two miles and the feeling never gets old.

Finish – 1:31:15. An improvement of four minutes over my last 10-miler. If you include the Migration people, I came in 215th of 487. Still, it was a dose of humility to see that out of the runners who ran in the Stampede, I came in 40th – dead last! – in my age group. And by almost three minutes.

After almost a full year of waiting until the last minute to register for races, I signed up for three in advance – and got injured. The groin pull is mild, but it still means a layoff of at least a couple of weeks in order to avoid aggravating it. What fun!

My heart attack last October left me with significantly reduced heart function. The heart’s pumping capacity is measured by ejection fraction (EF) - that is, the ratio of blood it pumps out compared to the amount it takes in. A normal range for ejection fraction is 50-65%.

After my stents were installed, my EF was 30%. That’s bad, but not horribly bad. But because any serious arrhythmia could kill me, my cardiologist wanted to operate and place an implantable cardioverter defibrillator (ICD) in my chest. Alberto Salazar has one.

But Salazar was dead for 14 minutes, while I walked into the ER and joked with the EMTs in the ambulance. I also did my research, and learned quite a few of these procedures are unnecessary. I wanted to wait, and my cardiologist agreed to give me a couple of months.

In December, I had another echocardiogram, and my EF was 40%. I thought this was terrific news, but the doctor still really wanted me to have the ICD. So I did what any other patient with great respect and deference for the medical profession would do.

I changed cardiologists.

My new guy is a lot more positive, particularly about my fitness and running. He scheduled me for another echo. A couple of weeks ago, I got the results. Now my EF is 45%, which the analysis described as “borderline normal.” No more mention of ICDs, and I was able to get off a couple of my meds and switch to supplements.

I had already run my half-marathon before getting this news, but I decided that if my heart was borderline normal, my pace should be borderline normal, too. I’ve been less tentative while training, and Saturday I ran the Run 4 Independence 10k. My mile splits were 8:58, 8:39, 8:35, 8:37, 8:33 and 8:31. I finished in 53:41, which is about 30 seconds per mile off the pace I ran in my last 10k before the heart attack – I guess you could call that borderline normal.

I got through a traumatic physical event with a minimum of discomfort, have had no lingering after-effects, and have even been able to approach my old running form – not that it was anything to brag about. I feel like the luckiest man on the planet.

Still, I was coincidentally scheduled for another 13-miler on Sunday, so why not run it with 553 other people? The Avenue of the Vines Half-Marathon is held in Lodi, California, and if you like long, flat straightaways for miles on end, this is the race for you. The entire race is on paved surface, past vineyards and, unfortunately, a whole lot of cows. There’s a half-mile stretch around mile 5 that will definitely speed up your pace.

The weather in northern California this time of year is usually very mild, bordering on hot. But today was overcast, with threats of thunderstorms and temps in the mid-40s. Fortunately, the great downpour didn’t hit until after the race, and the conditions were just about perfect for running.

I didn’t have a time goal. I just wanted to avoid a three-mile death march at the end. So I started very conservatively.

Mile 1 – 10:50

Mile 2 – 10:29

Mile 3 – 10:22

A lot of people at the back of the pack do a lot of gabbing – even the ones wearing headphones. I prefer silence, so I was motivated to pick it up and find some solitary space as the crowd thinned out.

Mile 4 – 9:54

Mile 5 - 9:56

Mile 6 – 10:00

I was simply cruising at this point. My heart rate was in the mid-120s, so I had some room to move. I was also spurred to run hard by a guy in front of me who was wearing a t-shirt that read: “No excuses, just run.”

He was walking.

Mile 7 – 9:40

Mile 8 – 9:29

Mile 9 – 9:34

I hit the halfway point at about 1:06:54, which if could average 10-minute miles the rest of the way would have put me on track for about a 2:13 finish. Better than my worst, but if I picked it up a bit, I knew I could end up with a sub-10 pace for the whole race.

Mile 10 – 9:16

Mile 11 – 9:05

I felt GREAT! Sure, I could have been kicking myself for being too slow in the beginning, but let me tell you, there is nothing like the feeling of blowing past people with three miles to go. I’ve been on the other side of that too many times, and I could feel the seething hatred. Now I started to pick targets.

“That guy’s too fat to be in front of me.”

“Her form is falling apart.”

“That old dude is probably in my age group.”

Mile 12 – 8:54

Mile 13 – 8:22

I have pretty light footfalls, and I absolutely ninja’ed a guy with about a half-mile to go. He damn near went sideways as I rushed past.

Finish – 2:06:54. 260th of 554. 26th of 36 in age group.

Hard to describe how great this was. This was my 15th half-marathon, and I think it was my third-worst finishing time. But I haven’t felt that free and easy during a distance race in years. I ran the second half in one hour flat, for a 7-minute negative split.

The finish line goodies were inside the Woodbridge Winery, where I received a souvenir wine glass, about a half-ounce of a fair zinfandel, and a delicious spicy veggie wrap.

I have an echocardiogram scheduled for Tuesday. I’m interested to hear what they say about my progress, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be bad news.