My journey into the world of marathons and ultra marathons.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

The Lost Dutchman 2006


I never really intended to run the Lost Dutchman as my first marathon. I have been training for the Vancouver International Marathon on May 7th, and part of my plan was to include a half marathon every month just to keep my interest up and not lose motivation. My January half marathon was the PF Chang Rock n’ Roll Arizona. I met a lot of people during that trip and many locals were talking about the Lost Dutchman that was coming up in February in Apache Junction, AZ. I looked it up on marathonguide.com when I returned home. The reviews were wonderful. I decided that would be my Febuary half and made all my travel plans. A few days later, after a great 20 mile training run, I got this hare-brained idea that maybe I could actually run a full marathon at the Lost Dutchman. I had 4 weeks to get ready and already had an 18 mile and two 20 mile training runs under my belt. The only thing really holding me back was the difficulty of the course: lots of hills and dirt roads. I decided to train as if I were going to run the full 26.2, and give myself the option of dropping back to the half if the course looked too hard or I didn't feel ready. I also decided that if I did run the full, I would run it as a training run and not push myself.

Jumping to race day….

After a sleepless night, I finally got out of bed at 4 am. The RnR experience in January taught me to get to the shuttles early (I waited an hour for a bus at the RnR). My boyfriend drove me to the shuttles and I went directly from the car to the bus and within minutes we were headed to the start at the Peralta Trailhead. It was too dark to see any of the course as we jostled up the rutted dirt road. Our bus was the first to arrive. We were greeted with bonfires and pre race treats including coffee, hot chocolate and pastries. I spent the next hour chatting with fellow runners and enjoying the night sky. As the buses rolled in and more runners joined us, I noticed that these were serious runners. Every one was fit and “Seasoned”. I only managed to find one other marathon virgin. My nerves were starting to build and I regretted that I hadn’t driven the course the day before.

A few minutes before seven we were asked to line up at the start. A real shotgun blast signaled the start of the race. I took off slowly while everyone around me sprinted down the hill. I think I must have been the very last person to cross the one mile marker… simply a sign along the dirt road. I have no idea what my split was because I had decided to leave my watch at the hotel and listen to my body to set my pace. The sun was slowly rising over the desert as mile two went by, then mile three. The dirt road rose and fell through the foothills of the Superstition Mountains for a total of 7 miles then leveled out to a paved shoulder along the highway. Slowly I started to pass people, and every time I did I reminded myself to slow down. At mile 9 we started to climb back into the foothills and wound around Gold Canyon. We were either climbing or descending every step of the way. Mile 13 came quicker than expected, although there were no clocks along the course so I had no idea what pace I was running. I do know I felt good and my heart rate was low. At mile 15, I ate a banana at the water station. Big Mistake. I didn’t eat bananas while training and this one caused major cramping. Suddenly I’m not feeling so good, but I continue on. I am passing more and more people as the course continues to rise and fall. Mile 21 finds us back on dirt roads and almost everyone is walking. Not me! I’m passing people! I pick up the pace a little and head for a hill they call Dutchman’s Revenge at mile 23. The organizers actually constructed a cardboard “wall” at the top and the photographers are there to capture the moment everyone “Hits the Wall”. I was worried about this part of the race, but it seemed like nothing as I ran up it. When I crested the hill, I was still feeling great and once again picked up the pace. As I rounded the final corner to the finish line I spotted the only clock on the course. I was fully expecting a 5:00+ time, but the clock said 4:30:28! I was thrilled and my legs still felt great! My thoughts as I crossed the line: “Where’s the pain? Where’s the agony? When’s the next marathon?”

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