PacePro is Garmin’s little training and race helper: put in a course, set your preferences and Garmin spits out splits per kilometre or mile, or per elevation segment. I was determined to give it a go since my last two attempts of simply following the 4 hours race pacer resulted in just a bit over 4 hours finishes. Don’t get me wrong. I am not getting all uptight about certain times, but I thought, now that I am back in the marathon game, it would be nice to experiment a bit with different strategies. I am still dreaming about qualifying for Boston, ideally for the ballot in April 2024, which gives me a year time to shave 45 minutes off my current marathon time.
The two months between Malta in February and now Madrid in April had not been promising. I think all the excitement of running marathons again caused me to enter again an overtraining state. By feel, that was, not by what my Garmin running watch said. And this whole minimalist running in my sandals also started to feel a bit off. My left foot had this weird underlying pain, which reminded me of how the early signs of my 2010 stress fracture felt. Not a good sign. So I took I a bit easier, did not do a marathon in March and did not stress about Madrid, which I had already been booked. A couple of weeks ago, I did start to feel better, that was when I looked into the whole PacePro thing.
The biggest advantage of PacePro is that it’s course based. You upload the course and then give it your target finish time. Once you start running, it gives you feedback based on course distance covered, not what the live GPS is recording. Everyone knows that the real distance covered is slightly more than the actual one. For me, over a marathon, it is often 300 to 400 metres more. Does not sound like much, but boy, it can make a difference. Especially when you are cutting it fine in the time department. A distortion you don’t have with PacePro.
Once I uploaded the course to Garmin, I had to decide how I want it to be paced. Positive split or a negative one? Uphill more relaxed or rather aggressive? Split it by distance or let Garmin cut it into elevation segments. I went for having an even pace, a little bit more effort uphill and splits by elevation. I saved it and deemed Bob to be my uncle. Confidently I announced my sub 4 plan for Madrid on Strava. Jarryd commented: “Good luck! Madrid has some nice hills.” … Hills? I looked at the elevation profile and it did look a tad hilly indeed. And the forecast said 25 degrees or something. London temperatures Saturday morning, on my way to Stansted airport: 4 degrees. Well, no point overthinking it.
The next morning, I found myself at the start line. Madrid is a lovely place with a buzz. The race is very well organised, public transport is good to navigate and it’s easy to get to the start. I was part of wave six, which meant another 25 minutes of waiting after the official 9 am kick-off. Which wasn’t bad, since the organiser kept playing all possibles rock’n’roll tunes across the last five or six decades (it was a Rock’n’roll series marathon after all), but it also meant there wasn’t much of cool morning hours time left, when we eventually got going.
I started my Garmin and the first PacePro segment was displayed. 2.78 km at 5:48 min/km. The average pace for a sub-4 marathon is 5:43. (Not 5:45, since it’s not 42 km, but 42.195.) So Garmin gave me a bit of slack, I assumed the start had an incline. The progress for each segment is pictured as a nifty light-blue progress bar, the actual running pace is displayed under the target one, and at the bottom of the screen, you could see how far ahead or behind of the total you are. The pacer with his fancy big black spheric round 4:00 h balloon passed me. I felt in good hands with my Garmin though and was curious about what was to come.
What came was that all went well until km 36. Even though the sub-4 pacer was soon not seen anymore, I had built up about a minute plus. Which was a really good feeling. Also, it was a nice feeling not to be bothered by the increasing gap between Garmin’s signal for each kilometre done (measured by GPS) versus the actual kilometre markers passed. The course was indeed hillier than I am used to, and I find it hard to estimate the impact elevation has on my overall performance. Same the temperature. I started to feel a bit dehydrated. I am always carrying my own water and fuel with me and had cautious sips from early on, but it felt like it hadn’t been enough. My face, arms and hands were covered with oily sweat, and a light headache started to set in.
Usually, I am trying to take pictures during the race, but this time I was so focussed on the right pace that only when we passed the gorgeous Palacio Real I got the phone out and almost dropped it. It was so slippery in my sweaty hands. I took an uninspired shot, and put the phone back, glad not to have to stop to pick up its pieces. Still feeling slightly headachy and more tired than I should have, I got also more irritated by my fellow marathoners. Was it me, or was there more than the usual share of runners with no awareness of surroundings: abrupt pulling in front of you or stopping, spitting out water (or spit) at your feet, elbows in your ribcage every five minutes… I got grumpier and less forgiving the more the race went on.
And so it came that I did not find anything left in the tank for the last 6 kilometres. I stopped, walked, started to shuffle forward at some point, walked again, was overtaken by the barefoot guy, drank all my remaining water, and more water and electrolytes from the fuelling stations, and tried not to get annoyed by all the drama around me: roller-blading first aiders, ready to spray something on runners legs while they were running, runners who signalled with big gestures and loud voices how much their life depended on whatever was in those cans. I eventually made it, but it did not feel like a strong finish, or a happy, or victorious one. Yet, you try to smile and pretend you feel this way. Especially to the ones who comment on running in flip-flops. The running sandals drew far more attention in this race than the previous two, which were by comparison much smaller events.
I was tired. Very tired. But I managed to join finishers, who cooled their feet and legs in the nearby water fountain, before I slowly hobbled to my accommodation, laid down and fell asleep for hours. When I woke up I was worried I won’t be able to walk. My feet had never felt that sore. But eventually, I managed to get them moving, and found a quiet spot on a bench in the Spanish sun, having a humble dinner while reading a book. I am wondering whether my dreams of qualifying for Boston in twelve months, will remain a dream and whether the painful ending had anything to do with the PacePro strategy or would have happened anyway. I guess it’s time to find out and plan the next marathons.
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