Or I could title this, "The Loss of Enthusiasm". The Rocket City Marathon is a well organized, community supported event. This was the 32nd year since it was started by the Huntsville Track Club and the dream of Harold Tinsley. It is the first and oldest marathon in Alabama. The course winds through downtown Huntsville, the historic district and the newer south side near Grissom High School. The course is noted for being flat and fast. The weather is also noted as cold and breezy. This day proved to be cool, but the wind was not a factor.
As I hit town, I checked into Holiday Inn at the Civic Center which is the race headquarters for the marathon. This year I had to prepay for two nights to ensure I had a room. The race usually fills up. I checked into the Expo to get my race packet, I felt the packet and didn't feel the familiar bump in the packet to make sure the timing chip was there. (Today, some of the more advanced races uses a computer chip for your times during the event. Talk about big brother! The chip is attached to your shoe and as you cross the starting line, the computer starts "your" time. When you cross the finishing line, it stops it. Some races has these readers at various places along the course. Rocket City uses the start, halfway and finish.)
I went to a familiar face at the Expo, Jim Oaks. I have known him since the early 80's and asked him where the timing chip was. He informed me that there was a new type being used, a disposable one and to watch the instructional video across the room.
Boy did I feel like a dummy. Later, after I got back to my room, I found my race information booklet and read the instructions. Lo and behold, there was the instructions for the new chip. Now for the title "The Loss of Enthusiasm".
I first ran this race back in 1980. The race was already 3 years old and the course had already changed for the start and finish at Grissom High School. I had been running for recreation since about 1978, to lose weight and try to keep in shape. Mother Nature had already kicked me out. Mother Nature will take care of you until you're mid twenty's, then she will tell you that you are on your own.
I ran my first organized race in June of 1980, "the Provident Heart Run" in Chattanooga. My cousin, Bobby Smith had talked me into running it and later convinced me to run a marathon. So we began our training for "The Joe Steele Rocket City Marathon" in December 1980. I entered and anxiously awaited the information booklet that was promised. The booklet came and I read it cover to cover looking at all the pictures and learning all the names of all the runners. I saw pictures of Steve Bolt winning and Mike Hamm and Ron Hill. I was excited! Ron Hill was a world class runner from Britain. This race had international participants!
After 28 years and running this marathon 10 times, I didn't even open the booklet. What have I become. Have I lost the enthusiasm of running the marathon? I guess so. I will ponder on this question for a while to see what I have lost or gained over the years.
The race began with a shot from a musket, fired by Wayne Smith's daughter. I had met her 22 years earlier when she came to TVA to do a fitness test for the newly formed "Livewell" program. The air was cold but not brutal. It had the feel that the day would warm some but not be hot. This proved to be true.
The night before, a couple of runners that I had met (both from Indiana, but didn't know each other) asked me what my goals were. I answered that I hadn't thought about any. I figured that I would go out and run within myself and see what the day and the course would allow.
I started slow to keep from burning out early, I settled into about a 10 minute per mile pace. This proved to be the ticket. I met some other runners that were settled into the same pace. Bill from Huntsville and Allen from Tampa, FL. Bill ran head after about 6 miles but Allen and I ran together for about 17 miles. We hit the halfway point in 2 hours and 10 minutes. If we could maintain, then that would mean a 4:20 marathon. At about 17 miles, Allen and I both started to have a few issues. The wheels were wobbling a bit. I settled in and started to press a little. About that time I saw the aid station giving out Clifshot gels. They had a variety and I was bonked to the point, I didn't (couldn't) hear what they were offering. I grabbed one from the second girl handing them out. It turned out to be a "Caffeine" one. It tasted like Expresso Vaseline due to the cold, the gel was almost a solid. The energy and the caffeine buzz gave me a little kick. I kept pressing, all the time thinking that I was running too fast for the amount of distance left. My heart rate was reaching 94 to 97 % of my maximum. I was well into anaerobic territory. This meant that my time was limited at this level. When lactic acid builds during this phase, it causes the muscles to ache and slow down and eventually quit moving. Being crazy to start with along with being in a daze from fatigue, I kept on.
At about 23 miles I reached into my secret pocket in my running shorts and pulled out my last secret weapon. A Little Debbie Fig Bar. Smashed as it was, I choked it down. At this phase of the race, the mouth is dry, the tongue doesn't want to work. After a half of mile or so, I hit an aid station and gulped down a couple of cups of water. The plan from the start was to save this fig bar until mile 23. I'm surprised that I hadn't used it until then or even forgot that I even had it. After a mile and half or so, the fig bar kicked in and I was able to carry my tired, aching old body across the finish line. Time 4:21:06. The second half was just a tad slower than the first.
Afterwards, I went to the hotel room when the lactic acid finally caught up. My calves ached for about 30 minutes. I sat with my feet propped up on the bed as I ate the stew and fruit provided by the race. After about an hour, the body was almost fully recovered. I had one blister on the left foot in the arch. I didn't know I had it until the race was over. Today the legs have a few tender spots but very little soreness. We'll see how they feel on Monday, the soreness usually peaks about 48 hours after the event. The Rocket City Marathon was my first and remains my favorite marathon.
As I hit town, I checked into Holiday Inn at the Civic Center which is the race headquarters for the marathon. This year I had to prepay for two nights to ensure I had a room. The race usually fills up. I checked into the Expo to get my race packet, I felt the packet and didn't feel the familiar bump in the packet to make sure the timing chip was there. (Today, some of the more advanced races uses a computer chip for your times during the event. Talk about big brother! The chip is attached to your shoe and as you cross the starting line, the computer starts "your" time. When you cross the finishing line, it stops it. Some races has these readers at various places along the course. Rocket City uses the start, halfway and finish.)
I went to a familiar face at the Expo, Jim Oaks. I have known him since the early 80's and asked him where the timing chip was. He informed me that there was a new type being used, a disposable one and to watch the instructional video across the room.
Boy did I feel like a dummy. Later, after I got back to my room, I found my race information booklet and read the instructions. Lo and behold, there was the instructions for the new chip. Now for the title "The Loss of Enthusiasm".
I first ran this race back in 1980. The race was already 3 years old and the course had already changed for the start and finish at Grissom High School. I had been running for recreation since about 1978, to lose weight and try to keep in shape. Mother Nature had already kicked me out. Mother Nature will take care of you until you're mid twenty's, then she will tell you that you are on your own.
I ran my first organized race in June of 1980, "the Provident Heart Run" in Chattanooga. My cousin, Bobby Smith had talked me into running it and later convinced me to run a marathon. So we began our training for "The Joe Steele Rocket City Marathon" in December 1980. I entered and anxiously awaited the information booklet that was promised. The booklet came and I read it cover to cover looking at all the pictures and learning all the names of all the runners. I saw pictures of Steve Bolt winning and Mike Hamm and Ron Hill. I was excited! Ron Hill was a world class runner from Britain. This race had international participants!
After 28 years and running this marathon 10 times, I didn't even open the booklet. What have I become. Have I lost the enthusiasm of running the marathon? I guess so. I will ponder on this question for a while to see what I have lost or gained over the years.
The race began with a shot from a musket, fired by Wayne Smith's daughter. I had met her 22 years earlier when she came to TVA to do a fitness test for the newly formed "Livewell" program. The air was cold but not brutal. It had the feel that the day would warm some but not be hot. This proved to be true.
The night before, a couple of runners that I had met (both from Indiana, but didn't know each other) asked me what my goals were. I answered that I hadn't thought about any. I figured that I would go out and run within myself and see what the day and the course would allow.
I started slow to keep from burning out early, I settled into about a 10 minute per mile pace. This proved to be the ticket. I met some other runners that were settled into the same pace. Bill from Huntsville and Allen from Tampa, FL. Bill ran head after about 6 miles but Allen and I ran together for about 17 miles. We hit the halfway point in 2 hours and 10 minutes. If we could maintain, then that would mean a 4:20 marathon. At about 17 miles, Allen and I both started to have a few issues. The wheels were wobbling a bit. I settled in and started to press a little. About that time I saw the aid station giving out Clifshot gels. They had a variety and I was bonked to the point, I didn't (couldn't) hear what they were offering. I grabbed one from the second girl handing them out. It turned out to be a "Caffeine" one. It tasted like Expresso Vaseline due to the cold, the gel was almost a solid. The energy and the caffeine buzz gave me a little kick. I kept pressing, all the time thinking that I was running too fast for the amount of distance left. My heart rate was reaching 94 to 97 % of my maximum. I was well into anaerobic territory. This meant that my time was limited at this level. When lactic acid builds during this phase, it causes the muscles to ache and slow down and eventually quit moving. Being crazy to start with along with being in a daze from fatigue, I kept on.
At about 23 miles I reached into my secret pocket in my running shorts and pulled out my last secret weapon. A Little Debbie Fig Bar. Smashed as it was, I choked it down. At this phase of the race, the mouth is dry, the tongue doesn't want to work. After a half of mile or so, I hit an aid station and gulped down a couple of cups of water. The plan from the start was to save this fig bar until mile 23. I'm surprised that I hadn't used it until then or even forgot that I even had it. After a mile and half or so, the fig bar kicked in and I was able to carry my tired, aching old body across the finish line. Time 4:21:06. The second half was just a tad slower than the first.
Afterwards, I went to the hotel room when the lactic acid finally caught up. My calves ached for about 30 minutes. I sat with my feet propped up on the bed as I ate the stew and fruit provided by the race. After about an hour, the body was almost fully recovered. I had one blister on the left foot in the arch. I didn't know I had it until the race was over. Today the legs have a few tender spots but very little soreness. We'll see how they feel on Monday, the soreness usually peaks about 48 hours after the event. The Rocket City Marathon was my first and remains my favorite marathon.
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