The Cellcom Green Bay Marathon Debacle

I had been registered for the event since the end of November.  I had put in weeks upon weeks of slow, long runs, tempo runs, and Fartleks.  I had attempted (major emphasis on attempted) to eat better to drop a few pounds so I would be a lean, mean running machine.  So when I made it past the halfway point of the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon only to find out that the course was closed and everyone was being shuttled back to the Lambeau Field parking lot, I was just a tad bit irritated.  To be completely frank, a small part of me was relieved at the news.  It was hot out, and I'm sure I had lost a man's share of sweat and electrolytes during the first few hours on the course.  The electrolyte capsules I had stored away in my pack had actually melted - as had my hopes for finishing in my pre-race goal time or any respectable time, for that matter.  But in the end, I was just upset that I had put in so much work and now have nothing to show for it.

Pre-race at Lambeau Field

The day started innocuously enough.  In the pre-race dawn, the weather was admittedly warm, but not stifling.  The anticipation of running my first marathon had butterflies flitting around my stomach while I focused on reviewing my race plan in my head.  I barely broke a sweat doing some warm-up strides, and felt like I was adequately hydrated to handle whatever the weather could throw at us.  At the end of the countdown when the horn sounded and we charged through the starting line, I was confident that the day would end with a medal around my neck, a beer in my hand, and a feeling of satisfaction at having completed something tremendously difficult.

Within the first two miles, I was hanging somewhere between the 3:45 and 3:55 pacing groups.  I thought that I shouldn't push the pace if it indeed was going to be as uncomfortably humid as was forecast, and finishing under 4 hours would be a good back-up goal.  The first miles of the race wound around the residential area in the vicinity of Lambeau Field, and I must say that I was impressed with the crowds considering the 7 am start time.  The combination of heat, humidity, and nerves from the race had my sweat glands working overtime and by mile 3, my shirt was soaked through with sweat.  By the 5 mile timing mat, I was at 44:24 (on pace to finish in 3:55), and even though I was going at a leisurely pace, I felt the need to stop and walk shortly thereafter.  At the first few fluid stations, I was trying to find a balance between consuming enough fluid and limiting the amount of stomach jiggling that would inevitably come with over-hydrating.  The next 5 miles were a sweat-soaked combination of walking, running, and an awkward half-trot somewhere in between.

Around mile 11 is where I discovered my electrolyte capsules had melted, so I stopped at a medical tent to get some more.  When I stopped, I discovered they had an abundance of ice at the tent, something they had been lacking at the previous fluid stations.  "Do you want to sit in the shade with a bag of ice for a few minutes?" the med volunteer asked.  "YES!" That sounded like the best thing in the world at that point, so I spent 3 or 4 minutes in the shade, letting the ice drip down over my overheated head.  A mile down the road is where the course diverted into the different full and half courses.  Now, a few days prior to the race, the organizers had said that full marathon participants could run the half without being disqualified.  So as I approached the fork the road, I was faced with a dilemma: turn left for the half course, which represented a sure finish, a quicker route to a cold beer, and less exposure to the ever-rising sun, or turn right for the full and finish what I had started.  I decided to stick with the full course.  I had come all the way back home for this race, I was going to finish.

But then I arrived at the 13.1 timing mat.  "Just so you know, the course is closed ahead.  They're shuttling runners back to Lambeau," the volunteer at the mat informed me.  I gave a little bit of a chuckle.  Yeah, it was getting really hot, but surely they wouldn't shut everything down in the middle of the race.  Sure enough, when I arrived at the next aid station, a voice over a loudspeaker was explaining how there were no more ambulances to carry heat exhausted runners to emergency rooms, and medical resources at the finish line were being stressed to their limits.  They had turned off the timing mats, and all times over 2:35:00 would be unofficial.  I decided to follow the lead of a few bold runners who were continuing on the course, and made it another 1.5 miles or so before the next set of volunteers insisted that the course was closing, fluid stations would be packing up soon, and the finish line was barricaded.  No point in going on.  Though I had lost the weight of a Thanksgiving turkey in sweat at this point and my legs were tightening up, I knew that I could get across the finish line one way or another.  But without a course, fluid stations, or a finish line, there's not really a point, is there?  Later on, I would read about runners who managed to finish the course despite all the warnings from volunteers and closures along the course.  The asterisk that should accompany these runners is that many had several friends or family members willing to run alongside them, carrying Gatorade and energy gels and ensuring their runner didn't pass out as they unofficially finished their marathon in the sweltering heat. To those runners who finished the course, I give my sincerest congratulations.  For the other runners like me who didn't have that kind of outside support ready to roll, it was a supremely disappointing way to end an important race.

Now for me to rant a little bit more and ascribe some blame for what happened on the marathon course that day.  The first and easiest person to blame for lack of preparedness is the race director.  After all, they knew that hot weather was coming and even though there were extra preparations in place, it should never come down to cancelling a race that is in progress.  I (and likely many others) would have preferred that the race be cancelled ahead of time, so I would have been upset but just ran the half marathon instead.  This is actually what ended up happening a week later at the Madison Marathon, and there was much less of an uproar over that cancellation.  But I actually do not blame the race director, and in fact commend him for making the call that he did.  Sure, a lot of people (like me) were really disappointed with not being able to finish the race which required months of training and preparation, but it was a safe way to handle the rising temperatures and heat-exhausted runners.

Another guilty entity may be the number of runners who decided to ignore the fact that conditions would make racing difficult and still ran hard and went for PR's and BQ's.  Assuredly, some of the runners who required serious medical treatment were in this demographic, but obviously many of the other runners receiving treatment were runners who just weren't acclimated to the heat.  While they are stubborn for trying to push their pace on a tremendously hot day, it's hard to say that I wouldn't do the same thing.  As Amanda pointed out to me, I was being stubborn by staying out on the course beyond the first point they tried to stop me.  Most serious runners have an implacable sense of determination to finish what they started, regardless of the consequences.  They knew it could be damaging to remain out in the heat any longer, but their drive to have a strong finish overrided their basic physiologic needs.

In my mind, there is not one party that should assume more guilt than another for the cancellation of the race.  It was the perfect storm of crazy weather, improper planning, and runner stubbornness that created the need to get runners off of the course and limit the amount of heat-related injuries that were occurring.  Though the race itself was a disaster, I would love to run Green Bay again in the future.  The crowd support throughout the course (at least the part of the course that was open) was phenomenal.  I even saw Green Bay Packers kicker Mason Crosby standing outside of what I presume was his home, cheering on runners.  Though hopefully next time I set foot on the Green Bay course, I will have a marathon or two under my belt.

Additional readings and photos:
Cellcom Green Bay Marathon halted because of heat

Race Director Responds to Participants

The Starting Line

Hello world!  If you are reading this, at this point in my blogging it probably means that you have wandered off the beaten path of the interwebs and are lost in the forbidden forest comprised of 1) new bloggers who think their words fall upon expectant ears, 2) "artful" pictures of cats, food, or first-person views of a lady's legs whilst lounging poolside, and/or 3) Twilight fan-fiction.  I fall into the first category, though to forewarn you, my rambling and oft-incoherent writing may be more readily categorized into the third option listed above.

Marathon "Finisher" - in that I finished as
much of the course as they would let me

The main purpose of my writing here and now is that I wanted an outlet to vent, cheer, review, and occasionally boast about my personal adventures in running.  Most of the next several months will be focused on training for my first marathon, and the highs and lows that will inevitably accompany my training.  I don't fancy myself a tremendous athlete; I've only been running for about two years, and I still find myself firmly entrenched in the middle to middle-back of most running packs.  However, I will still try and provide some perspective on the world of running through my mediocrity.

A good starting point for this blog is to mention that I was supposed to have finished my first marathon by this point.  I was recently in the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon on May 20th, and found out about halfway through that the course was closing due to the heat and humidity causing heat exhaustion and other heat-related injuries.  The volunteers told me that the county was rapidly running out of ambulances to transport runners, and the medical staff was overwhelmed at the finish line.  Disgruntled and disappointed, I dragged my feet another 1.5 miles or so before the next set of volunteers insisted the course was really closing, including fluid stations, so there was no point in going on.  15 miles into my first marathon, I was forced to stop due to the medical director's decision.  I will write about this at length in another post, but for now suffice it to say that I am not yet a marathoner.

More to come later this week.  But for now, thank you for finding my blog, however you came across it.