Shortly after the training started, I had a pleasant surprise. Half a year earlier, for runs up to 12 to 13 miles, my easy run pace was about 8:45. I noticed that now the pace improved to 8:15. Since the improvement has so far lasted, I could only attribute it to the hill repeats and interval training I did over the summer, not to my high altitude hiking. The 30 seconds pickup in easy run pace was substantial. I run the marathon race at or even slightly slower than my easy run pace. Had I run 30 seconds per mile faster in Vancouver, I would have made my goal.

The new training program also had me run for 5 days a week. It started at 26 miles for week 1 and peaked at 50 miles. Although the peak mileage was 15% more than that in my previous training program, no single run was more than 20 miles. Both physically and psychologically, I felt the second time around was much easier. The whole training was quite uneventful, because unlike my first marathon training, none of the runs was an uncharted territory for me anymore. Of course, those 20-milers were still hard. But they were not as intimidating as before. Heck, I had run 26 miles before, 20 miles should be easy, right?

Just the day before my second scheduled 20-miler, I read an article about the techniques of long runs for BQ (Boston qualification) preparation. Since qualifying for and running Boston marathon is one of my lifetime goals, I paid particular attention to the article and decided to give it a try in my long run the following day. Basically it had the runner run the first 3/4 of the distance at a pace that was 30 to 60 seconds over the marathon pace, and then during the last 1/4, gradually pick up the pace all the way up to about 5k race pace. 5k race pace! That was around 6:30 for me. And at mile 19-20? Forget it! I decided that during the run, I would just pick up the pace to about 7:45 to 8:00.

I started the long run pretty late the next day. I did not eat much before I headed out, then I realized I had to go to work for a few hours. It wasn’t till noon that I started the run. I felt a bit hungry, but I didn’t give it much thought. As with all long runs, it felt very easy in the beginning. How could it not feel easy? My easy run pace was 8:15 and I was running at 9:00 to 9:15 pace. A couple of hours later, I was running through a small park at mile 14.5. After stopping for water, I decided it was time to go fast.

I covered the next two miles at 8:30 pace. At this time, I started to feel light-headed and sleepy. I knew I was about to run out of fuel. Running any faster would be out of the question so I decided to just maintain the 8:30 pace. The light-headedness and drowsiness kept getting worse and worse. At mile 17.5, I was unable to continue. My breathing wasn’t hard at all, my leg muscle wasn’t too sour, but I felt very sick if I kept running. I tried to mix running and walking for a mile and a half. At mile 19, that effort finally grinded to a full stop and I literally collapsed. There was a long bench at the side of the trail. I moved over and laid on it for about 10 minutes. When I got up, things didn’t seem to be improving much at all. I still could not run, or even walk. In fact, walking was as hard as running. It sounded strange, but it was true. I hit the wall and hit it hard this time. Eventually, it took me over 30 minutes to cover the last mile and get back to my car. This was my first and only non-injury related DNF (did not finish) during the second marathon training.

I learned a valuable lesson from this long run. I needed to pay attention to my diet before the long runs and refueling during the runs. Otherwise, if some of the runs were DNFs, I would not reap the full benefit of the training.

Two weeks later it came the third and last scheduled 20-miler. I made sure I had plenty of sleep two nights in a row before the run and had some sort of carbo-loading the day before. I also brought two packs of Gu (a kind of energy gel) with me during the run. Basically I treated this run as the race rehearsal. The run went perfectly. I averaged slightly under 9:00 for the first 18 miles and picked up my pace afterwards. I finished the last two miles at 7:59 and 7:51. My confidence was shooting sky high. Barring anything disastrous, I was quite sure that my goal of sub 4-hour finish was in bag.

Unfortunately, my bloated self-confidence only lasted for one day. The next day after the 20-mile run, I drove along the Seattle marathon race course. There were numerous hills along the way, but the ones that were big and nasty were between mile 20 and 23. They looked long and steep. I wasn’t sure if I could deal with them after running 20 miles. Maybe my sub 4-hour goal wasn’t such a sure thing after all. My wife even said to me: “Are you sure you want to run here? It is OK to back out of the race.” No way in the world that I would back out. Marathon race is meant to be hard. It’s about enduring pain and challenging myself physically and mentally. If it were simply an easy stroll in the park, I would not be interested in it.

The climber I mentioned earlier had this to say about race: “You should finish these races completely spent and in need of medical attention. You should be carted away in an ambulance with an IV in your arm.” This guy not only talked the talk, but also walked the walk. He followed through his own words. At the finish of 2001 Pikes Peak Marathon (arguably the hardest marathon in the world), he was completely wasted and lying in the medical tent for over an hour. Some medical staff there wanted to stick him with an IV but he refused. He lost 15 pounds during the race due to severe dehydration.

I was definitely not that extreme, and I probably didn’t have that kind of mental toughness, either. But I too, was ready to suffer, ready to bleed, and ready to give it all I had to achieve my goal.