Magnification - From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America

Magnification by Marcus Grimm

Caption: Brian Foster takes his turn in the Recovery Pump
As Team Type 1 SANOFI nears Flagstaff, Arizona, Van B’s Chris Zenker observes that everything the runners do is intensely magnified.

“Every decision we make reaps a result,” he says. “A great choice in anything leads to great running and recovery, but the opposite has an equally negative effect.”

Like their teammates, the runners first had to deal with ratcheting down their insulin requirements. Failure to do so results in low blood sugars. CGM alarms and the intuition of your teammates prevent the athletes from being in danger, but a runner with a low blood sugar is also a slower runner, and despite this being the most ultra of runs, speed is somewhat of the essence.

And as the miles pile up, how the runners prevent injuries is equally important to Zenker’s magnification theory. Indeed, if you don’t do everything you can to keep healthy, you, your teammates and the entire journey are put at risk.

Sleep helps and as the team enters their third day on the road, the routine is now allowing them to sleep when they must and their bodies soak up the recovery like water into a sponge.

“It’s amazing how exhausted you are and then five or six hours later, we’re ready to go,” says Eric Tozer, the youngest of the runners. Ironically, Tozer’s biggest complaints thus far are chapped lips and a sore wrist.

But most of the runners’ complaints are coming from their lower extremities, and so the Recovery Pump has become a favorite of nearly every runner. Despite their comical appearance (picture inflatable balloon legs that cover your own), the compression effect that comes from the Recovery Pump improves the circulation for the runners, aiding the recovery they will so desperately need.

Ultra specialist Jon Obst agrees, “The Recovery Pump has been awesome. My Newtons are my best friends when I’m on the road and the Recovery Pump is my best friend when the shift ends.”

Van B is also working together to ensure each runners’ healthy. Realizing that the first leg of their shift is always the toughest, the squad has shortened that pull to be only a few miles, to ensure the runners don’t strain their groggy muscles. In addition, they’re responding to how each of them reacts on the terrain.

“Last night, Chris had some shin pain on the downhills,” said Jon Obst, “So I relieved him. We’re finding what everyone can do to be successful out here and making sure we take advantages of each of our individual strengths.”

Zenker agrees.

“I’m learning more and more every day – both about diabetes and about running really far. The trick is to see what you learn and apply it right away. Mistakes get punished out here, but the right moves get rewarded immediately, too.”

Adjustments - from Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America

Adjustments by Marcus Grimm

October 29, 2011

After a night of running through the Mojave Desert, Team Type 1 SANOFI now finds itself in Arizona, the third state in their RUN ACROSS AMERICA. Gone is the excitement from the pier in Oceanside, CA and the pandemonium of the first day and well-wishes of friends and family. What remains now is the realization that the desert is very quiet and that the team has so very far to go.

In Van A, the runners are learning what twenty miles a day of work means to their diabetes.

“I’ve lowered my basal rates by about 30%,” says Tom Grossman, referring to the amount of long-acting insulin that regularly enters his body via his insulin pump. Matt Patrick counters that he’s down 20%, while Ironman Casey Boren hasn’t adjusted his rates a bit. It’s one of the many ironies of diabetes; it’s such a personal disease that even if you and another man are spending all of your time together doing the same thing, you won’t slay this dragon the same way.

To a man, though, their bodies are now far more sensitive to exercise. Each of their shifts average around thirty to forty minutes of running, a short enough span that seasoned athletes wouldn’t expect their blood sugar to change much. And yet, during a spell through the desert last night, Kevin Powell watched his blood sugar plummet one hundred points during a single shift. At times like these, the runners are immensely grateful for healthy fast-acting carbohydrates like PowerBar Energy Blasts. And of course, for each other.

“You’re running in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night,” says Matt Patrick, “and yet you’re surrounded by a bunch of guys who know how to keep you safe and keep you moving.”

For now, keeping moving is what it’s all about.

Team Type 1 is made up of 100 of some of the finest professional and diabetic athletes in the world. Their mission is to promote wellness and achievement among diabetics worldwide. The Run Across America, a journey of more 3,000 miles, culminates on November 14, World Diabetes Day, in New York City. 

Lost, from Team Type 1 SANOFI RUN ACROSS AMERICA

Lost by Marcus Grimm

After the seven-mile hill into Beaumont, CA, a weary Van A gratefully passed the baton to Van B, whose runners include team manager Tom Kingery and Kona Ironman finisher Ben Semeyn. Unlike Van A, whose participants had been forced to run on little or no sleep, Van B’s day started with a siesta in the RV’s.

Despite the excitement of the day, Kingery said sleep came quickly for him and his teammates. Figuring they got about four good hours of rest, the day seemed to be off to a great start for the group. But when Semeyn missed a turn onto a tiny dirt road early into his run, the runners in Van B instead found themselves looking for the Ironman in the California desert.

Semeyn wasn’t concerned for his diabetes. A wise diabetic plans for such contingencies and he had plenty of carbohydrates to maintain his blood sugars. But still, time was wasting. Semeyn had persuaded a kind stranger to use their cellphone just as Van B tracked him down forty-five minutes later. Semeyn said he wasn’t scared, but still, “I was frustrated about the time. We’ve got a long way to go and I didn’t want to be costing us minutes so early into it.”

The miscue wouldn’t be the only thing to slow the runners down, though, as desert headwinds, mountainous climbs and dirt roads all continued to challenge the goals of Team Type 1 SANOFI. Still Semeyn isn’t deterred.

“We’ve always been a group of guys who are in tune with each other’s blood sugars,” he said, “but it’s amazing to me that we’re already doing the same thing with each other’s runs. We’re very quick to understand who can run further or shorter, faster or slower. ”

Kingery agreed, adding that despite the loss of time and what he called a “beautiful, desolate” landscape, “Spirits are high and we’re thrilled to be out here doing this together.”

Team Type 1 is made up of 100 of some of the finest professional and diabetic athletes in the world. Their mission is to promote wellness and achievement among diabetics worldwide. The Run Across America, a journey of more 3,000 miles, culminates on November 14, World Diabetes Day, in New York City. 

From Team Type 1 SANOFI Run Across America

The first leg – by Marcus Grimm

It’s hard to imagine Team Type 1 SANOFI finding a more beautiful town to run through than Oceanside, California, but with three thousands miles in front of them, there’s no need to award that distinction just yet.

Still, there’s no arguing that the small city, just up the coast from San Diego, is the kind of place you’d be fortunate to call home, with its ample coastline and year-round weather to die for.

It’s also the childhood home of Barbara Mandrell, which doesn’t mean much for today and the Oceanside Pier, which does.

The pier is the longest in the Western  Coast of the US, stretching nearly two thousand feet into the Pacific Ocean. The pier is also where Team Type 1 SANOFI started the Run Across America last night.

In the past twenty-four hours, the athletes have flown in from all around the country. Their support crew has worked tirelessly to prepare the two vans and RV.  Twenty-four hours, of course, does nothing to get you used to the West Coast time zone, but then again, for these adventurers, time zones will mean nothing for the next two weeks. The runners will instead be creating their own timezone: RAA Time, which basically looks like this:

Run three to six miles.

Sit in the van while the other 4 guys in your van take turns doing the same.

Run three to six miles again.

Watch your buddies again.

Repeat a third time. Maybe a fourth.

Chill for 8 hours or so while the other van does what you just did.

Though the runners will complete most legs alone, the historical significance of the event dictated that they share in its beginning, so they all walked together to the end of the pier, while curious strangers looked on.

“Have you guys ran across the county?” one asked, a question that might have hurt lesser men.

“Nope,” came the chipper reply from Casey Boren. “We’re starting now!”

Boren’s excitement was shared by everyone, including Tom Grossman, who voiced the feelings of all the runners on the pier.

“I’m tired of telling people we will be doing it,” said Grossman. “I want to go to where we’ve done it.”

As the runners finished their ceremonial run in from the sea together, the task of taking on the first solo leg fell to Boren, who had to deal with the fact that everyone was still settling into what as going on.

“It was a little crazy,” he said. “Emotional and exciting, but also you’re running through a city and the vans are trying to make all the right turns. It was a little nuts! It was easier for me to just have to worry about running.”

In time, the excitement of the beginning gave way to the monotony of the road and by the time 5AM rolled around and Van A passed through Beaumont, CA, the runners were more than ready to pass the baton to Van B.

“We’re excited but also fairly tired at this point,” said Matt Patrick of Larchmont, NY. “Some of us just flew in yesterday and there were tons of logistical issues to iron out prior to the actual Run Across America. And then on top of that, we had our first shift of running all night.”

The combination of logistics and running mean most of Van A has been without sleep for nearly twenty-four hours, and all of them have completed four shifts of running through the night from Oceanside, CA. That’s a distance of more than seventy miles and as important for the athletes, an elevation change of more than half a mile.

“We’re just finishing up a hill that seemed seven miles long,” said Patrick. “At least it’s dark, so we didn’t know that going into it.”

Their diabetes, thus far, has not been an issue for the team. Blood sugar tests, carbohydrates from sponsors like PowerBar, insulin and five athletes that know how to balance these have kept the squad healthy and on pace thus far. The answers of how to add sleep deprivation and twenty miles of daily running to the mix lay ahead. But at the very least, the seven-mile hill into Beaumont is now behind.

Team Type 1 is made up of 100 of some of the finest professional and diabetic athletes in the world. Their mission is to promote wellness and achievement among diabetics worldwide. The Run Across America, a journey of more 3,000 miles, culminates on November 14, World Diabetes Day, in New York City. 

We Interrupt This Blog...

When I joined Team Type 1 last year, I regrettably told them the only commitment I wouldn't be able to agree to was to participate in the Run Across America, a relay style journey with a squad of some of the finest diabetic endurance athletes in the nation crossing 3,000 miles.

It was an amazing idea. I thought so then and I think so now. It broke my heart to say no, but with work and family commitments, it just didn't fit. To be clear, I never asked my employer or my wife because I think both of them could've been persuaded; I just didn't think it was fair of me to put them in that position.

As it stands, it was the right call for me. I typically have 2-3 speaking engagements for work per year. Incredibly, I have 4 in the next 3 weeks including our most important tradeshow of the year. None of these opportunities would've been able to happen if I was running across the country, so from a professional standpoint, it was the right thing to do.

In talking to Team Type 1 manager and runner, Tom Kingery, I discovered that one of his many responsibilities during the run was to be chronicling the journey for the TT1 website and other outlets. Not surprisingly, he was less than thrilled about having to do this while running 18-20 miles per day. And then it hit me: I could do this for him.

And so I am. Beginning this Friday, I'll be reaching out to the runners via cell phone as they make their way across the country. My goal will be to convey the journey to the readers - the achievement and camaraderie, certainly, but also the pain that comes from running so far, and the challenges that result from doing it with diabetes. I hope the runners' experiences and emotions translate into content that inspires and entertains the readers as much as their adventures have already inspired and entertained me.

And I hope, not just a little selfishly, to feel a small piece of what they do, as they accomplish the trip of a lifetime.

My introductory story about their journey, A Recipe for Success, can be found here. I'm still not sure where the stories will be posted, but when I know I will always link to them from this blog or from my Twitter account.

Fidelis 5k Race Report - Not as Mean as I Thought

I tend to think of myself as a grumpy competitor. Simply put, if you're in front of me during the race, I want to put you behind me. But maybe that's not always the case.

After last week's Chicago Marathon, I took a solid 5 days off from running. Because I've been on an amazing streak of no injuries, I hadn't had a break that long in over a year. But with 2 marathons in the next 2 months, it seemed like the smart thing to do.

But the problem with being a diabetic athlete is after a few days of not working out, your blood sugars start to creep higher. By the 4th day, you're doing a lot of correction boluses and by the 5th day, you either need to correct constantly or - if you're a pumper like me - be prepared to redo all of your basal rates.

Or... jump back into running full stream with a 5k race on the 6th day.

To be clear, you will never find any coach that recommends running a marathon, taking five days off and running a race right away. It's dangerous stuff, to be sure. While your legs might feel fresh, they're also confused, stiff and all around wondering why you must abuse them so much.

To soften the blow, I did a nice long 2.5 mile warm-up, and noticed immediately that I had some serious hamstring stiffness. Again, a smarter man might've opted not to race, but I'd paid my $25 bucks and already had the t-shirt. Well, I told myself, I'll just slow down if it feels bad during the race.

During the warm-up, I ran the last mile of the course and knew that it wouldn't be a fast day anyway, as a stiff headwind would be blowing in our face for the entire last mile, aside from the very last 100 meters of the course. Judging by the wind and my stiffness, I figured a sub 20 minute day, at best, would be the most I could hope for. I also hoped to have someone to share the wind with on that last mile.

The race started with a fast downhill mile and I settled in behind a small pack of high school cross country  runners around 8th or 9th place. I made a move on the boys going up a small hill and found myself temporarily in 4th place until an older man came by me breathing hard. I've ran enough 5k's to know that if an older guy is breathing hard when he goes by you, he's probably got a lot of race experience in him and knows that you can run a 5k without blowing up. I tried to go with him, but his pace was just a bit swifter than mine.

As the race turned into the last windy mile, I realized that I was probably in serious trouble. The older guy was working the wind with a young kid, and I was a good 20 seconds back. Meanwhile, looking over my shoulder there wasn't anyone close to me. I was in no man's land, not close enough to draft off the pair in front of me, but looking at my watch as the wind blew harder, not looking assured to break 20 minutes at all.

And then, just as I'd resigned myself to a breezy boring finish, the kid surrendered to the wind and started walking. Suddenly, 4th place sounded a lot better than 5th and I picked up my pace, hoping I'd catch the kid before he started running again. I went by him and heard him struggling to catch his breath. And that's when I surprised myself.

I can't promise you I would've done what happened next if the walker were anywhere near my age group. I can't even promise you I would've done it with someone this young in another race. But for some reason, I yelled, "Let's go! Tuck in behind me!"

The kid wheezed, "Thanks!" and he lumbered behind, safely in my draft.

Just like that, my race had become fun again. Within 200 yards, I knew the kid had stayed close, as I felt his shoe clip mine. I also knew that with a marathon a week prior and a balky hamstring, if the kid was with me when we turned the last corner, there was a better than average chance he'd outkick me. If I was going to beat him, now was the time, so I pushed the pace harder and harder while the kid stayed out of the wind. Forgetting the time, now, I did everything I could to drive the speed against the wind. If the kid beat me, I thought, fine - but he's going to have to earn it.

We made the sharp left turn out of the breeze and I heard the crowd cheering. I tried to turn on one last gear but it wasn't there. The kid came by me on the left and I was heard myself shouting, "Go kid! Go!" And he did. We both got recorded in 19:58, but he was clearly a step ahead of me.

I don't know what his story was, but his joy at his time was immense. I heard his family yelling, "You're back, Ian! You're back!" Back from what, who knows. I told the kid, "Nice finish!" and walked through the chute with a smile on my face.

I walked up to the older guy who bested me and shook his hand. He mentioned the kid and complained loudly how the boy had no pride and had drafted off of him for that entire windy mile. He also told me I shouldn't feel bad that he'd beaten me because he'd been a 2:19 marathoner "back in the day."

"Nah," I assured him, "I've been beaten by guys a lot older than you." I limped away, hoping my hamstring would forgive me in short order.

Time: 19:58
Place: 5th out of 170
First in Age Group, 2nd Master

Race Report - Chicago Marathon

Yesterday, I posted about my awesome teammates at Team Type 1 and the great time we all had together in Chicago. But at the end of the day, we were all there to do some "road work" in Chicago, specifically 26.2 miles of it.

As a precursor: I was coming off a 3:17:30 marathon in May. My training all summer and into the early fall had gone well, and I was hopeful that a 3:15 was well within my range and toyed with the idea of hooking up with the 3:10 pace group.

As last week progressed, however, each day seemed to bring a higher predicted temperature. And while the conditions couldn't be called horrible, the temperature at the start was 64 - about 14 degrees higher than ideal.

The night before the race, Brian Foster (another TT1 athlete) and I decided that given the temps, we'd aim for a 3:15. Both of us, I think, were too nervous about the weather to go for the 3:10.

The 48 hours prior to the race were absolutely ideal for me - plenty of rest, plenty of food, plenty of hydration. When my blood sugar was 110 upon waking up, I still felt confident that I was off to a great day. And when Brian and I found a line of unoccupied porta-potties hiding in the predawn darkness, well I thought the running gods had truly smiled down upon us.

We made our way to corral B and shuffled close to front of it. Corral B was set up for runners in the 3:10-3:35 range. I ate my Clif Bar (with no insulin) 30 minutes prior to the race, set my basal rates for 50% for the duration of the race and was 153 and trending higher when the gun went off. Perfect!

Considering I was starting with more than 37,000 other runners, the start was calm and Brian and I were across the line and running within one and a half minutes, heading north through Chicago. Within one mile, however, we passed through a tunnel, which I absolutely hated. Though the outside air wasn't warm, yet, the tunnel was hot and stuffy. For the first time, I wondered if the heat would be an issue.

After 2 very calm miles around 7:35 pace, Brian and I dropped down a few 7:10-7:15 miles and were happy to be on our way. Except, we really weren't, because I began to notice that each time we'd get near a mile marker, we'd say, "We're going to be fast," but would end up spot on. In other words, it didn't feel as easy as it should've.

I had started the race with a 24 ounce water bottle, which I drank from for the first 7 miles. Per my routine, I took a sip of HammerGel every 3.5 miles and had Endurolytes and Anti-Fatigue Caps every 7. Despite all this, however, within 10 miles I realized this wasn't going to be my day. I willed myself to stay with Brian until the mid-way point, when I told him my legs were heavy and he should just go, which he did.

The 14th mile was a slow one for me, as I took extra time at the water stop and finished it around 7:45. That slow mile put a bit of a spring in my step, and I did the next few around 7:30, barely off 3:15 pace. I kind of kept a casual eye on Brian, about 50 meters up and was pleased he wasn't adding ground on me.

The next thing I knew, however, was Brian was right reside me, and not because of anything I'd done. Rather, he'd miscalculated his electrolytes and had slammed into the wall at the 18 mile mark (I learned this afterward, of course). I told him to stick with me, but he was as powerless as I'd been 5 miles ago. I shuffled on alone.

When I passed Brian at the 18 mile mark, I was also finishing off my last goodish mile, and started my own slide shortly thereafter. A few 7:45s gave way to a few 8:00 miles and before I knew it, I was hanging on for dear life. I prayed for a 3:20 finish but when the 3:20 pace group passed me with 3 miles left, I prayed to the god of the 3:30 pace group to not catch me. And though my pace continued to falter, I finally finished to a roaring overly appreciative crowd at 3:23:45. My blood sugar was 120.

At first glance, I was pretty upset. While not my worst marathon by a long shot (this was pretty much a median effort, all things considered), I really felt as if I was ready for a 3:15 run. That said, one thing I know about myself is that - more than anything - I am a top 10% runner. It takes an amazing race for me to do better than that, and it takes a crappy race for me to do worse. And when you look at the results of the 2011 Chicago Marathon, I came in 337 out of 3320 runners in my age group: the 10.2% percentile.

So when I look at all of that, I really feel the weather was a big factor in my lackluster time, and I really feel on a good day there's definitely a 3:15, or faster, ready to come out. That said, with fall here, I'm going to concentrate more on speed work and tempo runs to complement the parking lot sized endurance I have. That 3:15s in there, but it probably won't come out without a little pain. Then again, that's pretty much the point.

Chicago Marathon - The Post Before the Post

While I do have a race report coming (3:23 marathon in blah conditions), I first want to write about my Team Type 1 teammates.

While the March event was a better race experience for many of us, the nature of this weekend allowed for infinitely more team bonding. Most of us got in Friday, which allowed ample time for the expo, pre-race chilling out and pretty much just being a bunch of marathoners who happen to have diabetes.

The cast of characters for this crew was slightly different than the March one; some guys who were at the UltraFest weren't here and vice versa, but those I hadn't met before were just as awesome as the ones I had. So, because I have this thing for trying to learn whenever ever possible, here's what I learned from the Team Type 1 participants at the Chicago Marathon:

1) Ben Semeyn - It's about more than the workouts. The day before the marathon, Ben put on a "display" with an assorted list of torture tools I've seen in the back of running magazines. The "stick" I'd seen before, but never used, but Ben also had rollers, balls - basically anything you can rub on a runner's muscles to induce pain. I compared this to my post work-out routine of turning on the air conditioning and realized I could do much better.

2) Eric Tozer - Large gains are attainable. In March, Eric did his first marathon with Team Type 1, finishing around 4 and a half hours. Yesterday? Nearly 1 hour faster.

3) Cale Gondringer - Large gains are attainable, even when sleep isn't. Cale's improvement from March was closer to 40 minutes, but he did it while sharing a hotel room with a two month old baby.

4) Jerry Willis - Great diabetes control is always possible. Jerry is unbelievably resourceful in finding affordable ways to get blood sugar strips, insulin and Omnipods at great prices. Not only that, but he can find creative ways to make money. Did you know Omnipods use the same expensive batteries as PowerTaps, but when the Omnipod dies after 3 days, the batteries are 95% full? I didn't. But Jerry breaks the old Pods open and sells the batteries to his cycling buddies for $2 a battery. I also learned a lot about the alcohol laws in Oklahoma. Yikes.

5) Tom Grossman - The weather doesn't have to be an excuse. It was for thousands of us, yesterday, but not for Tom, who nailed his goal time. As 1 of only 2 guys on yesterday's squad that has had diabetes longer than me, Tom was an easy guy for me to relate to as we joked about old meters.

6) Matt Patrick - Though Matt taught me dozens of small running things this weekend, what I really learned from him was what my wife puts up with. On the first night, Matt's Dexcom went off in the middle of the night, and I found myself sounding just like my wife: "Matt, check your blood sugar!" And then 10 minutes later, "Matt, you're still beeping." Married to a diabetic, I realized, must be a pain!

7) Nathan Bartels - I always enjoy my conversations with Nathan because he's the epitome of West Coast laid back, but what I learned from him this time around was to always be on the lookout for a bargain, even when you are in pain. We were limping around after the marathon and Nathan made a gimpy bee-line to a RedBull car pulled over on the corner. I followed him and we scored free samples, which helped us hobble to the train.

8) Jon Obst - Set bigger goals. You've probably heard of ultra-runners who do "birthday runs;" celebrating by running 1 mile for each year on their birthday. Jon does this, but with an interesting twist: he runs 1 hour for each year of his life. He's done this for about 4 years now and will turn 28 in January.

9) Brian Foster - Get creative with basal rates. Brian and I are two of the pumpers on the team, and he has a somewhat confusing but very innovative way to handle his basal rates leading up to the marathon. While my plan also results in great blood sugars (I finished at 120 yesterday), Brian's would allow me to not consume a Cliff Bar 30 minutes prior to my run, which theoretically pulls blood away from my muscles. Though all of the guys on our team do their own weird things, obviously the stuff the pumpers do is more relevant to me. This was also the first time I met Brian, and we ran the first half of the race together. I knew going into the marathon that he and I were fairly well matched for speed, but I had no idea how well we'd gel running together less than a day after we met. But in the end, results aside, we had a blast, and I can't wait to run side by side with him again.

10) Tom and Colleen Kingery - You don't have to have kids to make marvelous parents. As usual, Tom banged out a great marathon while Colleen ran the first half as a planned training run, but they also did so much more. From the airlines to the hotels and dinner plans, they did everything possible to provide a great weekend for all of us. And keep in mind, we ARE 11 diabetic marathoners. A snapshot of the long walk back to the train after the race: 10 hobbling runners, 1 vomiting, 1 looking like it was a distinct possibility, 1 stopping for ice cream because he got low, and another one who needed to get on the road home to his family. And yet the Kingery's took it all in stride, leading us home like 10 wounded diabetic ducklings.

As always, I can't say enough about the opportunity I've been given to compete on Team Type 1. It's a special blessing that leaves you literally grateful to be diabetic.

Chicago Marathon 2011 - the Goals Post

So this Sunday I'll be running in the Chicago Marathon - my 6th marathon and 9th race of marathon distance or longer.

My PR for the marathon distance is 3:17:30, set last May. Goal-wise, I'm tempted to go for a 3:10 (7:15 miles), but would happily settle for a 3:15 (7:27 miles). Realistically, I plan to let things shake out for a few miles and then settle into 7:15-7:20 pace and see what happens.

Here are five reasons why I'll have a great race:

1.) Best long run build ever. I've done 7 twenty milers and 3 other 16-18 milers in this build. That's way more than I've done before.
2.) The Chicago Marathon course is the flattest, fastest course I've ever run. My PR came on a flat course, but it was a rail-trail course. Asphalt is faster than trail.
3.) 2011 has been an awesome year. While this past 4 month build has been good, the one in the Spring was also great.
4.) Team Type 1. My wife will tell you that the reason why the NJ Ultra Fest 50 Miler went so well for me is that I was surrounded by my teammates, and nearly a dozen of them will be with me in Chicago. In my own corral will also be 9 time Boston qualifier Brian Foster, and we'll both be going for a 3:10 - 3:15.
5.) Dynamite peak workout. The workout 3 weeks prior to the marathon is kind of the pinnacle workout; very much a dry run of the possibilities. I was in Florida 3 weeks prior to my May PR, but 4 weeks prior did a 22 mile run, with 10 miles @ 7:40 pace. This time around, 3 weeks prior, I did a 22 mile run, with 10 miles @ 7:26 pace. The overall pace for that workout was 17 seconds faster per mile, too, all of which goes to mean that in theory, I could be 7.5 minutes faster than I was in May.

Certainly, anything can happen in a marathon (as my own race disasters have shown me), but probably the biggest thing to contend with is that this is my first large marathon. I have zero experience with big crowds (my largest marathon had 1200 finishers.... in Chicago, I expect to FINISH around 4000, out of 35,000!), and zero experience with being on the start line trying to stay warm.

The weather forecast could also be tricky, though right now there seems to be a better chance it'll be a little too warm than too cold. Either way, there's nothing I can do about it.

When it comes to being a race predictor I tend to be a little overly optimistic, but I'm hoping the crowds of the Windy City carry me through. I won't be crushed if I don't hit it, but I'm putting my prediction time down at 3:12:00.