Finished ninth (9th) out of 110 timed runners; first overall top-10 event finish; finished 3rd in age group (fourth overall age group podium finish).

Established a new Personal Record (PR) for the continuous 4-mile distance, eclipsing a 34:05 event performace at the 2010 C4 Miles race (May 2, 2010) by 3 Minutes, 11 Seconds.  30th event PR all time.

4.o miles @ 7:44 pace; 30:54 overall timing.

______________

I hadn’t run in this event since 2010; it didn’t fit schedule-wise in recent years.

However, when you’re on the comeback trail and trying to “find it” again, one often returns to the proving grounds that once fostered success.

The 2010 race was held near Montrose Harbor on Chicago’s Lakefront, less than a mile from my house, so I ran to the race venue to warm up and get some blood flowing; arriving about 15 minutes before the starting gun.

After the event’s first mile, there were 3 packs: the 5-8 minute pace runners who sprinted to the front at the beginning of the race; pack two populated by 8-10 minute runners; and pack three being the rest.

I was in front of pack two most of the second half of the race; got off to a decent start with an 8:30 opening mile pace; followed by 8:10 in the second mile, but didn’t even look at my pace time for mile 3, it was nowhere near 8:10.

So my real race in 2010 was the closing mile; glancing at my backup watch and seeing 26:22 flash onscreen; knowing that I had to complete the final mile of the race in 8:07 or less to achieve a PR for the event.

I made it with 25 seconds to spare.

Within seconds of closing the race I looked for a place to sit down and gather myself, but over the next few minutes several runners came over to me and told me that they were on my heels the entire race, but couldn’t catch me; explaining why only 2 runners passed me the entire second half of the race; one of them in the closing leg.

Less than 4 months earlier, I had been sitting on the couch eating Cheetos, and now I was the “rabbit” for several competitors separated only by seconds in the overall standings.

I didn’t realize it in May, 2010, but this event probably shaped me more than 90% of the races I’ve ever run.  I simply didn’t “have it” that day, having raced three weekends in a row, but still set a new PR anyway and never looked back.

That is until now.

Fast forward to 2013 and what was old is new again.

Last night, I washed my race outfit and completed my race equipment checklist.  This morning, I consumed steel cut oatmeal that cooked overnight in the Crock Pot and ran to the race venue just like I did 3 years ago.

However, race organizers moved this year’s event to Lincoln Park and I generally don’t run well there because most course sections aren’t paved or have a gravel surface.

My pre-race “recon” confirmed my suspicions that the gravel and dirt was still wet and tacky from the rain we’ve had in recent days.

So I kept things “real” and decided to start out conservatively and see if any openings would occur during the race.

My opening mile went according to plan with a 7:55 split; somewhat concerned that I wasn’t “feeling it” yet, despite already having run 3 miles both in warmups and the actual event.

However, that changed around the middle of mile-2 when a runner in a purple shirt practically glued themselves to my “six” and never relented.

The purple runner’s determination kept me honest, because I sped up in mile-2 registering a 7:47 split, followed by a 7:30 split in mile-3.

By the beginning of mile-4, reality struck me and I realized that I must be somewhere in the top-10 of the event as no one had passed me at that stage of the event.

So I made a calculated gamble and decided to make a move around the 3.25 mile mark, passing the 8th place runner in gray who I used as a rabbit for most of the event and briefly putting some distance between me and the runner in the purple shirt.

However, my “move” backfired as the gray runner woke-up and decided to reclaim 8th place and the runner in purple found their kick, passing me and the runner in gray for 8th place; relegating gray to 9th, and me to 10th.

I gave it all I had to close mile-4, but simply couldn’t catch the runner in 7th place and the inspired 8th place runner in purple; so it was down to me and the runner in gray to close the race.

This time, I waited it out until the 3.75 mile mark, before officially slamming the door on the runner in gray for 9th place overall.

The patented “Flyin’ Brian” race close is still in business.

After finishing the race, I had a chance to meet “Georgia,” the runner in purple, who pressed me most of the event; besting me by 22 seconds for 8th place overall.

Georgia thanked me for being a great target and setting a good pace for her to rabbit on the road to winning the women’s overall title for the event.

Race organizers were awesome and awarded our medals shortly after the event’s conclusion.  It meant a lot to receive my medal on race day and receive recognition from fellow runners, spectators, and clients being served by the charity tied to the event.

The C4 race has definitely grown since I last competed in 2010.   Organizers are much more confident, the race swag’s better, and they had nice eats post-event.

It was a great day at the office and I’m getting closer to “finding it” again.

New Personal Record (PR) for the 8k distance, eclipsing timing at the 2010 Bank of America Shamrock Shuffle by 5 Minutes and 32 Seconds (5:32).

First running event PR since the 2011 Chicago Marathon on October 9, 2011.  Largest PR timing improvement since the 2011 Boston Marathon; 29th event Personal Record overall.

4.97 miles @ 8:02 overall pace: 8:05, 7:51, 8:09, 8:20, 7:43 (.97); 39:54 overall timing.  Finished 4,695 out of 33,219 runners (top-14th percentile).

This is where it all started 37-months ago, 7,000-plus miles ago, 41 events ago, and now 29 PR’s ago.

The 2010 Bank of America Shamrock Shuffle was my second event that year, but my first running event after a medicore performance at 2009′s Aids Run Walk Chicago forced me to “get real” about preparing for events and stop stuffing my face with soda pop, Cheetos, and frozen pizza on a regular basis.

The Shamrock Shuffle was held in March then and 25 minutes before 36,000-plus runners lined up in their respective starting corrals, I was thinking, why are you doing this?

You don’t like running in cold weather, your hands and feet are frozen already, and you’re back of the pack in the open classification.

That’s where it all started: back of the pack and in the cold, but determined to succeed.

Fast forward to 2013 and things were different than 37-months ago: I’m in a seeded corral (Corral B), right behind the top runners in the region, race organizers wisely moved the race to April seeking better weather for participants, and I set my PR for the event’s distance when I was a much heavier and a much slower runner.

The ingredients for success at the 2013 Shamrock Shuffle were literally laid out on the kitchen counter; my only major concern was whether I could remember how to bake a “race cake.”

Shockingly, I hadn’t participated in any event since my post-injury return to racing at the 2012 Chicago Marathon last October.  I’d originally planned to close out last year making my marathon debut in New York City, but Hurricane Sandy had other plans, so Chicago ended up being 12′s swan song.

I also hadn’t run in a short distance event since the Trick or Treat Trot in October, 2011.

So yes, the ingredients were plentiful and abundant on the kitchen counter, but will the race cake rise?  Will the frosting be any good?  Paper plates or china?  Plastic forks or sterling silver?

Can “Flyin’ Brian” still bake the race cake?

The answer to that question came to the surface in the first 2 miles of the event.

I was determined not to behave like a giddy school kid and go out too fast in the opening mile, so much that I actually forced myself to slow down to a 8:05 first mile pace.

8:05 and had to put the brakes on?  This is looking promising.

By mile-2, I was warmed-up and settled-in to a 7:51 pace; positioning me at a sub-8 pace for the event heading into mile 3.

Things continued to go well through mile-3 and I was comfortably maintaining sub-8 timing until the 2.75 mile mark and then it happened: The worst side stich I’ve ever encountered in any of my races.

I tried every trick in the book to make the stich go away, but it stuck with me to close mile-3, slowing that mile’s pace to 8:09.

The stich continued to stick like glue in mile-4: pace 8:20.

By the closing mile, however, I’d grown weary of the stich and feared that my chances of going sub-40 for the event were going down the drain, so when we made the right hand turn onto Michigan Avenue, I found a clear seam on the far left and “floored-it” with every ounce of energy I could muster.

By the time we reached the hill on Roosevelt Road, I built up a head of steam and stayed with it until I reached the crest of the hill.

The only thing left was the final quarter mile to the finish line as 38:20 flashed on my Garmin.

It was “Flyin’ Brian” time or bust to break sub-40, so I found a clean seam on the far right and hit the accelerator; passing at least 40 runners closing the race.

It was going to be close: 39:50, 39:51, 39:52, 39:53, there’s the finish line, 39:54.

Whew!

7:43 pace in the final .97 mile of the race; 6:07 in the last quarter mile.

Luv it when the “Flyin’ Brian” event close is oiled, lubed, and in working order.

So that’s it sports fans, another event on the books and another shiny new PR for posterity.

Today’s race cake turned out pretty well; just need to improve on the frosting and table settings to get back where I was pre-injury.

To quote the late Paul Newman in the 1986 film, The Color of Money: “I’m Back.”

Almost.

Eighth marathon finish (third consecutive Chicago Marathon finish); 4:26:45 overall timing; 10:10 pace.

On the evening of Monday, June 11, 2012, I left the house enroute to Walgreen’s to pick up some strapping tape, assuming that I’d be back home in about 5 minutes or so.

It had been a fabulous day working with an awesome client who’d traveled from Grand Rapids, Michigan and the positiveness of that experience carried over to the evening.

On a typical day, I might have saved the “Walgreen’s tape trip” for the following day or even ordered the product from Amazon, but not that Monday, the day had been too good, “let’s get the tape today.”

So I ventured out, walking to the end of the block as always, and saw Walgreen’s across the street. Then the light turned green and I walked across the wheelchair indentation on the sidewalk when suddenly I heard a pop and my right calf started to burn.

Within seconds, I could no longer walk normally, and had to hop on my left leg to get across the street and not hold up traffic.

Eventually, I found a quiet spot near the Walgreen’s parking lot and I started to massage my right calf, hoping it was just a charley horse or something minor.

It didn’t help.

So I decided to make the trek back home (Skipping Walgreen’s), this time having to hop back on my left leg, a journey that took 20 minutes, instead of the usual 2.

The following day, I visited the emergency room to have my leg x-rayed and examined, but not without great worry before hand.   I’d been injured before in 2008 and 2009 and didn’t want to relive those days again.

Thankfully, the examining doctor had good news for me: nothing was broken and I hadn’t blown anything out; suffering from a third-degree calf strain, likely caused from an imbalance when I walked on the wheelchair cut-in on the sidewalk.  A fluke occurrence.

However, the price of the “fluke” was likely to be steep.  The physician’s general prognosis for this injury was a 3-4 month recovery, because time is normally the best cure for a calf strain.

Immediately, any upcoming event plans I had for Summer, 2012 were out the window.   The Jim Gibbons 5k on June 14th–OUT; the San Francisco Marathon on July 29th–OUT; the Chicago Half Marathon on September 9–likely OUT.

That left the Chicago Marathon on October 7th and the New York City Marathon on November 4th as possibilities based on medical and recovery reality.

But, it wasn’t easy at first.

I could barely walk the first week, struggling to walk a few blocks and wincing in pain during every step.  After about 2 weeks, the pain started to subside and I was able to incorporate some cycling work into my rehab, eventually returning to running (slow as a chuck wagon) on July 3rd.

I had very high hopes during my initial return to running as July moved forward, but eventually, my left leg (the good one) started to become sore  because it had borne the brunt of the load since my calf injury.

So by early-August, I’m limping and wincing again, this time on my left side; frustrating me to death, but the doctor had warned me that “compensation” injuries are normal in recovery and they factor that into the conservative prognosis timing they give to patients.

Thankfully, the second-wave of limping and wincing lasted about 10 days and I went back to my program emphasizing LSD (long slow distance) work, which has been my weakness in training for marathons in recent years.

As the weeks moved forward, 5-mile long runs became 10, then 13.1, then 20, even running 26.2 miles two weeks before the marathon.

When I lined-up in Corral D for the 2012 Chicago Marathon, I was supremely-confident that I’d get through my 8th marathon.

After running in 91-degree weather at Boston on April 16th and braving a second 80-degree-plus marathon in Chicago in 2011, the mercury predicted to be in the 40′s during race morning smiled upon us with a gentle sunshine, no rain, and perfect marathon conditions.

I’ve also run this course before and don’t have the deer-in-the-headlights approach to marathoning that I had a few years ago.

The only things that concerned me were the “unexpected variables” that don’t appear until you run the race.

So let’s run the race.

The first mile of the event was like floating on air.  I ignored the hot-dogs darting around me trying to find a primo running lane; that wasn’t my game today; New York’s in 4-weeks and I wanted to run in a “real marathon” to prepare for it.

When 9:38 flashed on the Garmin for mile-1, I smiled and calmly started working on mile-2, where I registered a 9:20, remaining in the mid-nine pace range until mile-15.

The run-like-Buddha strategy worked like a charm in the first half of the event, I was feelin’ good and even took time to look for friends like @Andrea K, who devotedly has cheered us on for the past two Chicago marathons, members of my gym who were stationed to the east of Andrea, as well as the road crew from Open Heart Magic, and @David P at mile-24, who lifted my spirits during the closing leg of the event.

However, reality set in around mile-15 when my left foot became sore for the first time in a marathon this year; followed by my right foot in mile-18.

My pace formerly in a comfortable mid-9 range started to fade to 10:25 by the 30k mark, 11:03 by 35k, and 11:45 by 40k, before rallying for 9:39 in the closing half mile.

I also realized that my pre-event carb-up cycle was way too shallow and I was out-of-gas in the closing 10-miles of the event.

So I have our marching orders for New York: replace my marathon shoes (wore them for Boston and Chicago) and store more glycogen.

A favorable weather forecast would also be helpful as well.  :o)

Long story short, I’m grateful to have run the 2012 Chicago Marathon and gain positive feedback that I can use in New York next month.

Yesterday’s performance was almost 9 minutes from my PR for the distance and nearly 27-minutes away from going sub-4, but I ran the event cleanly, never had to stop once, and was able to finally enjoy a marathon that’s earned a reputation of being a bit of a slug-fest due to hot weather conditions in recent years.

And yes, I finally picked up the strapping tape from Walgreen’s.  Walkin’ and limpin’ to the store the day after my injury, because the show must go on.

The next show is in the Big Apple on November 4.  See ya then.

Seventh marathon finish (second Boston finish); 5:00:44 overall timing.

The time was shortly before 4 pm, and as I walked into the America Ballroom of the Westin Hotel, I was greeted by a round of applause and high-fives from enthusiastic volunteers and staff members associated with the American Liver Foundation’s (ALF) Run for Research Team.

That’s when it finally crystallized with me; I had finished the 2012 Boston Marathon, 41 minutes slower than 2011′s performance in my first Boston run, but probably my proudest day as an athlete and event competitor.

The road to Hopkinton and back began in the same ballroom at 5:30 am with breakfast and the assemblage for the team bus to ferry us to the Athlete’s Village in Hopkinton.

Once there, I chilled out and sat in one of the tents to stay out of the sun and compose myself for the event.

During the previous two days, I’d been steeling myself for a challenging day on the Boston course due to the predicted mercury that teased us with an 89 degree day for Marathon Monday several times that weekend.

It was 64 degrees when I arrived at the hotel Monday morning and 75 when we were walking to our start corrals pre-event; it was already “hot” and the race hadn’t started yet.

Knowing that I started out too quickly pace-wise during my last two Chicago Marathon runs (average temperature 86), I decided to start out around 9:30 pace and see how I felt after the first mile.

Right before I reached my start corral, I teamed up with Michael Kim (pictured above) from the Liver Foundation, who I met during last year’s Boston run and we agreed to run together to start the race.

Race organizers were behind in getting the Second Wave off before us, but were on the dot in releasing Wave Three at 10:40 am; so we were off.

However, we were also “off” in our initial goals and expectations, with reality coming home early. The conservative 9:30 pace that Michael and I targeted for mile-1, was in actuality 9:50, followed by 9:57 for mile-2, 10:07, 10:07, and 10:34 in the first 5-miles.

Michael wore his heart monitor and it was off the charts, with numbers he normally reaches during half marathons, not the full monty.  So we kept it real at the beginning.

However, by mile-6, I was getting a bit frisky and wanted to see what I could do on my own, so Michael and I parted ways.

Michael, however, had developed a bit of a fan base, carrying a water backpack that resembled “Yoda” from the early “Star Wars” movies.  It was a lot of fun chatting with Boston runners who used Michael’s “Yoda” as an inspirational symbol in the early stages of the event.

On my own, I was faster initially, registering 9:37 and 9:25 pacing in miles 6 and 7.   However, that’s the last time I registered sub-10 mile timing until the close of the marathon.

By that time in the event, we were approaching Noon and that’s when temperatures began to spike in Framingham and Natick, between miles 6 to 10.  Reports indicate that Framingham’s high peaked at 89 around the time our start wave reached that section of the course.

The escalating temperatures created a 3-way vortex where runners were pummeled above from the sun, below from the hot road tar, and the middle as we kept moving forward.

Water and Gatorade stations along the marathon route were well-stocked and well-staffed by enthusiastic and engaged volunteers; their efforts buffeted by concerned families who lined the roads offering oranges, ice cubes, additional water, pretzels, and encouragement to the struggling athletes.

Two women pretty much saved my life with wet cloths at just the right time I’d needed them to wipe salty sweat off my brows before it caused eye irritation.

It was also great to see fellow DMers, Julie C, Luau W, and Mr. and Mrs. Daily Mile, Steve and Ally S on the course as well.

Steve also noticed at mile-16, what I already knew, that I was becoming dehydrated because my body was “dry.”

Unlike other marathons where I only conservatively used the water stations, I pretty much grabbed water at every station and religiously chomped on Shot Bloks with the 3-times sodium formulation every mile.  I hate the taste of the “salty” Shot Bloks, but I didn’t experience cramping like I did at Chicago last October, so that strategy worked like a charm.

However, by the the time I reached mile-18, I was “done,” I simply couldn’t run for distance any longer or generate any speed.

So I ran 1/10 of a mile, walked for recovery, then repeated.  It made things slower going for the closing miles of the event, but at least I was moving.

About halfway in the event, I met Megan, a fellow runner on the Liver Team, and we essentially traded places with each other (back and forth) on the course’s second half.  Megan had a great attitude and was determined to finish, so we pushed each other and kept each other honest.

The closing miles after Heartbreak Hill were my “Gravy Train” miles last year, with the gentle downhill towards Boston.  This time around, they were 5-miles that I struggled to close with the tedious “joggawalking” strategy I’d deployed in the second half.

But the miles advanced……slowly: 21 (Boston College), 22 (Chestnut Hill), 23 (Coolidge Corner), and 24 (Beacon Street).

After mile-24, however, we inched towards the Fenway Park area and I saw the historic Citgo sign and found some “gas.”  Nothing ground breaking, but a sluggish 13 minute pace, quickened to 11:19 and I made a push towards Boylston Street.

My feet hurt, legs burned, and side stiches were killing me, but I’ve run this route before and I didn’t want to walk on the course any longer.

Eventually, the last street towards Boylston emerged and I knew I was 2/5 of a mile from the finish line, so I sharpened up and made my final push hitting Boylston with a full head of steam and not looking back.

My finish line close wasn’t as fast as last year’s 5:22 “Flyin’ Brian” close, but an 8:33 pace fueled with nothing ain’t bad.

Guess who was waiting for me at the finish line?

Yes, my Liver teammate, Megan who finished right before I did paced by her husband. Megan and I even shared the official closing photograph together before getting our medals.

However, once I received my medal and the flashbulbs stopped, I endured probably the most painful and frustrating 20 minutes I’ve ever encountered post-event.

I’m usually pretty “beat up” after marathons and half-marathons, but I could hardly walk post-Boston, ’12, wincing at every step, and looking for an open place to recover for a minute or so on the road to the ballroom at the Westin Hotel.

The memory of the warm and enthusiastic reception at the ballroom will stay with me forever and made the efforts of me and 179 other athletes on the Liver Team “worth the hurt” on 4/16/12.

__________________

Brian Adkins is a Chicago-based runner, marathoner, endurance athlete, writer, editor, essayist, and independent scholar.   You can contact Brian at: marathonbrian1@gmail.com

New Personal Course Record (CR), surpassing Chi-Town Half Marathon event timing on March 27, 2011 (1:54:24) by 3 minutes.

Overall timing: 1:51:24; race pace: 8:27 (13.17 miles); 8th consecutive sub-2 hour half marathon performance.

A week ago, this event was not on my dance card, but 15 days from running in my second Boston Marathon, and not participating in an official running event since October convinced me to take advantage of a local event to run a distance I was scheduled to run anyway.

Plus, I was kind of curious.

What kind of race competitor am I in comparison with the runner who had a strong overall performance year in 2011, but closed last year feelin’ kind of “burned out” and painting by numbers by year’s end?

One of the reasons why I hadn’t planned on running Chi-Town prior to this week, was due to the unpleasant experience I had doing the event last year, with a 28-degree race time temperature and making several miscalculations that I worked hard not to replicate in future events.

The weather forecast pre-event looked kinda iffy with predicted highs in the 80′s and possible thunderstorms, but today’s race-time weather was heaven-sent: temperatures in the 50′s, partly cloudy, and dry.

What a difference a year makes.  :o)

Knowing that I’m close to Boston and not wanting to get too greedy, I had originally planned to “take it easy,” find a solid pace, and eat some miles in a real event.

However, I felt real good starting the event, so good that 8:16 flashed on my Garmin for mile-1.  So I made a decision to “go with it” and see how things progressed.

8:30, 8:26, 8:20, 8:13, 8:21, 8:23, 8:19, and 8:20 pacing followed for the next 8 miles.

Things were going so well, that I started to entertain the thought that I’d be able to PR in a tune-up race.

However, by mile-10, reality creeped into the picture as my peppy 8:20 timing from mile-9 started to fade.  At one point during mile-10, my timing for that mile was in the low-9 range, so I steeled myself and sped up, finishing that mile at 8:48, but that’s the story of miles 11, 12, and 13 as well, with 8:44, 8:42, and 8:48 timing.

Right now, I’m going to chalk up the tough closing miles to running out of Shot Bloks at mile-9 (my Amazon restock order for Boston hasn’t arrived yet) and executing too-shallow a carb-up pre-event.

But, even with the tough close, I enjoyed the event immensely, and gained some unexpected inspiration from an 8-year old runner in the event.  John B was running with his 32-year old father Charlie B and became the heart-and-soul of the event.

I passed John and Charlie around mile-6, but they caught me when I was struggling during mile-11.

With the amazing weather we had in Chicagoland last winter, little John was able to keep up his training and continued to grow as a runner.  Charlie was confident that John would have a good day at Chi-Town, and coaxed an epic performance out of him.

I kept John and Charlie in my sights, but couldn’t put the hammer on them, with the 3 of us trading placements until the closing stages of the event.

Even with 1/4 of a mile left, John and Charlie were still ahead of me, but I saw the finish line ahead and you know what that means…

It wasn’t my greatest “Flyin’ Brian” closing kick ever (7:22 for the last .17 mile), but it was enough to nip John and Charlie before the finish line.

Inspiration sometimes comes in unexpected packages.

By the way, Little John’s timing for the event was 1:52:10.6.

Certain that we’ll be seein’ him at the Olympics someday; maybe in 2024.  I’ll say that I knew him when.

In the meantime, Boston’s the next event on tap in 15-days.  See ya then.

__________________

Brian Adkins is a Chicago-based runner, marathoner, endurance athlete, writer, editor, essayist, and independent scholar.   You can contact Brian at: marathonbrian1@gmail.com

New Personal Record (PR) for a 94-story stair climbing event; surpassing timing at 2011′s Hustle Up the Hancock, by 4 seconds.

18:49 official timing for the event; 5th Consecutive PR for the event; 1st event PR for 2012; 28th event PR since 2007.

In October, 2007 a colleague came to me with an idea for our company to participate in a stair climbing competition at the 94-story John Hancock Center.

I couldn’t wrap my head around such an “idea” that day and thought about it overnight, giving the employee the greenlight to sign us up for 2008′s competition and have participated in the event ever since.

However, it wasn’t an instant love affair, as climbing stairs is much different than running on flat ground.  But I stuck with it and pared nearly 10 minutes off my 2009 timing for the event in 2010 and 2011.

So hopes were high as I arrived at the Hancock Center on Sunday morning, but I worked hard to “keep things real” with my training and preparation over the past month; slowly chipping away at my timing and not peaking in training, like I did before several events in 2011.

It turned out that the “keepin’ it real” approach was the most prudent strategy today as the event unfolded.

Compared to the terrified “Fat Brian” of 2009, I was ready to “get it on” today, so ready that the event volunteer had to grab me before I prematurely activated my timing chip for the event.

Shortly afterward, the volunteer released me and I hit the stairs, blasting past the event photographer and not posing for the second year in a row.  However, I overheard the photographer tell her colleague that she captured a “good shot” of me.  We’ll know if she’s right when they release those images in the coming days.

I made strong progress during the early floors, hitting the 20th floor around the 4-minute mark and passing several slower climbers.

There was a martial artist instructor who was in line behind me, participating in his first Hancock, who surprisingly caught me around the 10th floor and stuck with me like glue until the 35th floor, until he started to fade.

At this point of the climb, a strong climber with the largest calves I’ve ever seen, blasted past me.   This “middle portion” of the event ( floors 35 to 70) was challenging as lactic acid built up in my legs and my timing started to fade.

However, the real wake up call was at the 54th floor which I reached around the 10:30 timing mark, where you know you have 40 floors to go, your legs are burning, and a little more than 8 minutes before you lose an opportunity to PR or improve upon last year’s timing.

So you start to “dig in,” maintain a consistent cadence, and strategically pass slower climbers.

The “dig in” strategy worked well and ate up more floors, but I was shocked when another strong climber passed me on the 75th floor.  In 2011, only one climber passed me during the entire event, so to have 2 climbers pass me was a bit of a bummer, but that’s life.  I’m certain that the 3 dozen climbers I passed today, weren’t happy to see me either.  :o)

By the 83rd floor, I started to make my “push” to close the event, but had a difficult time passing a strong climber who hogged the left hand side of the stairwell, (the prime climbing position) as well as slower climbers hugging the railing on the right.

I frustratingly put up with this bottleneck for 4 more floors until the 87th floor, when I made a move to the middle of the stairwell, and tripped, only avoiding injuring myself by catching my fall with my left hand.

However, my “trip move” worked as slower climbers on the right yielded way and I passed the left-sided climber in the closing stages of the event.

When I reached the event’s top floor, there was absolutely no time to pose for the event photographer stationed in the doorway as there were only seconds left for me to secure a PR for the event.

So I sprinted past the photographer, crossed the timing strip, and waited for the event’s announcer to call my name.

It was officially over; 2012′s Hustle Up The Hancock was now for the ages.

I had higher hopes outcome-wise before today’s competition, but I was much more “event hardened” by this time in 2011, having competed in 2 half marathons, and the brutal Austin Marathon a week before last year’s Hancock.  So to improve on last year’s performance is nothing to sneeze at.

I’m also proud of how I “stayed with it” during the Hancock’s challenging middle floors and kept my composure and sense of humor when I did the “87″ today.

So here we go, event number one for 2012 is on the books, with a shiny new PR to show for it.

Not so bad; not so bad.

Today’s event benefitted the Respiratory Health Association of Metropolitan Chicago; marking the 15th anniversary of Hustle Up The Hancock and raising more than $1.03 million for research, local advocacy, and community programs in Greater Chicagoland.

__________________

Brian Adkins is a Chicago-based runner, marathoner, endurance athlete, writer, editor, essayist, and independent scholar.   You can contact Brian at: marathonbrian1@gmail.com