Patience

March 18, 2003
 
by Peter Coleman

            2:30a.m. 3:20a.m. 4:05a.m. 5:35a.m. Drew’s patience could stand it no longer. He turned off the alarm clock set for 6:00a.m. This 14th day of December is not unlike another famous December day for this father of two. It came with similar anticipation of a Christmas morning and had been circled on his calendar for the better part of six months. Both days required strategic planning and forethought if all is to go as desired. And at the end of both days, he hoped to be filled with immense satisfaction and no doubt some well-deserved weariness. However, that is where the similarities ended.

            On this day, Drew Cargile made his way to his Hampton Inn bathroom, grabbing a Gatorade bottle on the way. Although he would have rather not, he turned the light on so that he can note the color of his urine. It appeared to be yellowed ever so slightly, which indicated he needed to hydrate a bit more. Considering he was slated to run the Huntsville Marathon’s 26.2 miles with a total elevation change of 563 feet in the coming hours, such a thing was not to be taken lightly. He took big gulps from the bottle, followed by bites of an energy bar designed for just such days. Even though he was a bit restless during the night, he was feeling confident and was anxious to get to the starting line. It had been a long wait for this moment in time. But his patience would come in handy by day’s end.

            Drew was on his weekly 50-mile Sunday morning road-bike outing with his training buddies back in April. Just a week earlier, they had all competed in the International Powerman Duathlon in Birmingham which consisted of a 5-mile run, followed by a 38-mile bike, ending with another 5-mile run. Raymond Boone, one of the training buddies and best friend, embarrassed Drew at Powerman finishing more than nine minutes ahead. Typical of their relationship, Raymond needled him mercilessly during the ride. Of course, had their times been reversed, there would have been no less teasing. At some point during the ride, Raymond challenged Drew to run a marathon with him. It should be pointed out that Drew was not the strongest runner; in fact, it was his running that generally got him in trouble in his multi-sport events. For the most part, that is attributed to the fact that he used to pour his competitive passion into body building, and still looked the part. Characteristically, before Drew rationally thought through the challenge, he smugly accepted the marathon invitation. It was officially on.

            5:55a.m. Drew stepped out of his hotel room to get a visual on the weather. Overcast and cold. He brought enough clothing to set up an expo down in the hotel parking lot.  From the wet chill in the air, he knew he probably needed his running tights and a long sleeve moisture-wicking running shirt, along with some sort of cover for his shaven head. Accessories would have to be carried along and decided upon right at race time. He noticed that the whole hotel seemed to be coming alive with fellow runners doing their own weather forecasting. Suddenly, the butterflies took flight.

            Drew continued his normal triathlon training regimen throughout the summer months, competing in his planned races. His running style remained the same – slow, but steady. His race times were a bit better than the previous summer primarily because he simply had another year of experience in a very young weekend warrior racing career. As the summer waned, he knew his attention would have to shift to the run – specifically marathon training. Marathon training generally involves more mileage and a regular dose of heavy legs. He sought the advice of his other training partner, Parker Hubbell. Parker’s forte was the run and was arguably considered one of the top runners in the state. Parker took all of Drew’s information and entered it into a running PC program. It spit out a 20-week training plan with a goal time of 3:25:19. “Yeah, right,” was Drew’s initial response to the time. Parker reiterated that he simply follow the plan, and advised him, “There are no miracles in running…you race what you train.” Drew shrugged, “Yeah, but 3:25? Come on. ”

            6:30a.m. Race time is an hour and a half away. Having showered, Drew pulled out his race clothes and shoes. He had finished his energy bar and the bottle of Gatorade. Already dressed, his wife Tracy, handed him another bottle. Her role today is cheerleader, gopher, and nurse if necessary. She has run a marathon herself and is more than knowledgeable of the anxiety and requirements that a marathon demands. She will make it her business to stay at arm’s length until after the race. Drew ran through a mental checklist of things he felt he would need to take. In no time, they are headed for the race. Drew is generally outgoing and very vocal, but now, he is officially in whisper mode.

            The training program purposely eases one into the heavier mileage. Still, when Drew encountered his first long run of 12 miles in the summer heat, he plodded through it wondering how he would ever be able to carry on for 14 more miles in a mere four months. Parker instructed him that the training plan is set up to cycle him through phases. The first phase would be base mileage, where one slowly builds weekly mileage to appropriate levels. The second phase is strengthening, calling for tempo runs and hill repeats. The third phase is sharpening, where one will do speed intervals that remind the legs to maintain fast turnover. And the final phase is the taper, in which mileage is diminished significantly while keeping the intensity at a high level. In week three, the program calls for the first tempo run. For runners, pace is generally equated to time per mile. The goal of the tempo run is to maintain just above race pace for three to six miles. Drew finds the pace uncomfortable, but he is able to hold it.

            7:30a.m. Drew purposely avoided the crowd in an effort to stay focused. He and Parker decided on a race plan and a pace he needed to hold – 7:45 to 8:00 per mile. There is an out-of-town friend who would also be running, and Drew knew the friend would be running the same pace as his goal pace. He finds the friend and makes certain of their plans. Drew ate an energy gel, and put two more in his gloves to consume out on the course. As the runners began making their way to the starting line, he saw Raymond. “Hey, man…whatcha gonna try to run,” Raymond asked. Drew coyly replied, “Eight minutes…something like that.” Raymond said, “I think I’m gonna try to go out hard…try to hold right at a seven minute pace.” “Go get you some,” Drew said, all the while thinking to himself, “Parker said he was going to try to go out hard. But he said it’s a long race, and I need to let him go…gotta race my own race. If I do, he’ll come back to me. ‘Patience’, Parker said. ”

            By week nine, the program had phased him through the strengthening runs, and had started him on the speed work intervals. This was all new to Drew. In the past, his run training consisted of mindless mileage – nothing focused. He thought of himself as someone who was destined to be a slow runner forever. Speed work usually involves fast, hard-paced running of 200 to 1000 meters. Parker went out with him on his first 200 meter intervals instructing him on technique and mental coaching. “You race what you train,” was Parker’s mantra. “This is where the race is won…right out here in training…today!” It did not take long for Drew to get a sense of purpose about his running. Slowly, he began to notice his body shape morphing into more of a runner. He was losing some of his excess mass. And while the speed work was unforgiving, he found it to be enthralling – invigorating even. Parker encouraged him at the height of pain during the harder runs…”Do the work now, and come race day when you toe that start line, you’ll know you did the work. You’ll deserve to have a great race. Empower yourself…right now!” The plan called for a race, and to Drew’s amazement, he cut his 5k personal record (PR) by more than a minute, finishing in 20:18. If the fire was not lit before, it surely was now. It was all making sense. Suddenly, he felt like a real runner.

            8:00a.m. The gun sounded to start the marathon, and sure enough, Raymond bolted out ahead. Drew felt a nervous instinct to chase him, but Parker’s words of advice along with his pacing friend at his side keep him focused on his race plan. “Patience,” he told himself, “it’s a long day.” He and his friend found their pace and attempted to settle in. In an effort to pass the nervous time, they talked about anything and everything, all the while keeping an eye on their watches at each mile split. From mile 1 to 13, they went through each mile split anywhere from 7:30 to 7:50. As they approached the halfway point, another experienced marathoner friend joined them. He came out specifically to pace them in the second half of the race to a 7:45 per mile. As they approached mile 16, Drew felt the first sense of weariness set in. Patience can become a slippery and torturous thing when the mind tires. He longed to slow down and let his friends go ahead for a bit, but he knew if he did, he would never be able to make himself hold his goal pace alone. Still, there was no sight of Raymond. In the throes of fatigue and pain, losing to Raymond after all the hard work began to cross his mind. The fatigue persuaded him not to care.

            In week ten, Drew scheduled another 5k race, and Raymond went along. To both their surprise, Drew beat Raymond for the first time in a run-only race. Energized by his victory, he threw himself into the next week’s training. He capped off that week with another 5k race in which he broke through the sub-20 barrier with another personal record of 19:42 – something he never would have thought possible only 6 months ago. By this time, his long runs had increased up to 15 miles. Invigorated by his evidence of success, the long runs seemed to become easier. Certainly, a contributing factor to his success and perceived ease was the fact that his body was continuing to sculpt itself into a leaner and fitter appearance. Parker noticed it first. He also noticed Drew’s runner mentality take hold and showcase itself during the harder training runs. Drew could feel the transformation taking place.

            10:35a.m. The 20-mile marker. “The race begins at the 20-mile marker,” Drew remembered Parker saying. He had battled through a part of himself that did not think he could hold on. “Adversity introduces a man to himself,” Parker had said. He was now shaking hands with a new Drew. “Come on, guys,” said their 7:45 pacer, “we’ve only got a 10k to go.” Drew said, “How about we call it two 5k’s instead? ”

            A week before the marathon, there was an annual hometown 5k race that evokes unspoken competitive fires among the training buddies. This year was no exception. 5k’s had become Drew’s preferred candy. Since his marathon training began, every 5k seemed to bring about a new personal record, and for a runner, there is nothing sweeter. Parker had Drew physically and mentally sharp. He told him to line up and run a bit angry - mad at the world. Parker told him that racing is hurting a little bit every day, and a little more on race day. He said that runners are experts in pain, discomfort, and fear. Parker told him that his training had callused his mind and body to deal with the discomfort, and racing was merely an exercise of the mind reminding the body of that fact. Drew felt quietly confident in his new sinewy frame when he toed the starting line that morning of the hometown race. He and Raymond ran strong side by side the entire race. In the last 300 yards, Drew let his legs do what they had trained and he powered a six second gap on Raymond. The next week’s marathon, however, was a different animal.

            10:50a.m. Drew remembered reading in one of his running magazines that the infamous “wall” that runners are susceptible to hitting came around mile 22. His hamstrings were tight and talking. Almost three hours of steady running had worn a rut in his muscle memory and they ached to change stride. But he knew if he attempted to change anything in his form, cramps were inevitable. Conversation was strained at best at this point between his pacing buddies. It’s hard to talk over the irrational screams of one’s mind. Just when he was sure one of the screams might slip out, they rounded a corner and he caught sight of Raymond up ahead. He was walking and attempting to stretch in obvious pain. He started running again, but Drew could quickly see that they were going to overtake him. Just past mile 24, he eased up on Raymond. “You okay, dawg,” Drew asked. Raymond tried to drop into their pace, but he was running on fumes and was dropped. For a brief moment, Drew felt an urge to slow and run in with him – after all, they were training buddies. However, his body would not allow it. In an odd twist, the body overrode the mind.

            11:25a.m. Drew cruised across the finish line. After three hours and twenty-five minutes of running, it was almost painful to stop. He saw his time – 3:25:02 – twenty seconds faster than the plan had predicted. As is often the case with marathons where so much is invested physically and emotionally, when one completes what once was such a seemingly insurmountable endeavor, there can be a literal and figurative feeling of void. For more than six months, it had consumed him. Now it was over and left him a bit hollow. Later, he would taunt Raymond with his strategically planned victory – but not now. 

            “Patience,” he thought, “what’s next?”