Boston Marathon and 5k

Prior to my trip I decided that this would be my last Boston for awhile. Boston is expensive, it eats away at my vacation leave and there are other marathons and ultras in the same time frame that I want to do. That said, I approached this race weekend as a chance to have as much fun as possible and not worry about the race itself.
Mom was my traveling companion this year, so the first matter of business was to have my traditional dinner at Whiskers on Boylston. The following day we hit the expo, picked up my race numbers (5k and marathon) and shopped. Saturday morning I put in 3 miles along the Charles River. My legs were tight and heavy. I plodded along losing confidence with every step.
Sunday morning I was up early, threw on my pink running skirt and black long sleeve shirt and walked to Copley Square for the first annual Boston 5k. Much to my surprise my legs felt light and responsive. I went ahead and let myself run as fast as I could. I hit the finish line in 26:18; good enough to place 39 out of 233 in my division. I felt good about the results. Speed has been slipping away the last 18 months as I have ventured into longer ultra marathons so I wasn’t expecting any blazing performance. After the race, Mom and I hit the subway for a trip out to Cambridge and a Masters pre-marathon party. It was great to see my friends again and to put a face to new friends that I have only met online.
Marathon morning I packed all sorts of clothing options into my drop bag, threw on a black skirt and yellow Maniacs singlet, gloves, tights and jacket and walked to the bus line. As soon as I approached the buses, I met up with a few other Maniacs and we chatted as we waited our turn to load. Once we arrived at the village, I headed straight for the lower field. For some reason, every year at Boston, I stumble across the Main Maniacs and camp out with them. It’s almost like they are wearing homing devices. Most of the Maniacs are in the first wave, so once they depart I stripped down to my skirt, singlet and gloves and made my way to the second wave start. On the way to the start, I figured I better come up with a race strategy. For the last two years I’ve followed the general wisdom and started slow, hoping to pick it up in the second half. That second half pick up never came so I ended up with a disappointing finish, 2007: 4:14:12 and 2008: 4:26:22. This year, my legs felt springy after yesterdays 5k, so I decided to go out fast and let myself fade. My marathons have gotten so slow lately that I rarely break 4:30 (I did run a 4:15 in Victoria in October but it hurt!). I figured going out too fast and crashing would be better than just lumbering along. My first 5 miles were fast: 8:30 per mile (I don’t run 8:30’s). I decided to see if I could hold it for 10k. After 10 k I decided to try and reach mile 10 before slowing down. My pace was starting to slow, but I was still holding on. I hit the half way point in 1:53. A new half-marathon PR for me. An 8:40 pace. At that point I let my head get in the way and remind me that I don’t run that fast. I listened and let the pace slack off. I was still feeling fine, just didn’t believe I could hold it. By mile 20 I was averaging 9 minute miles and stomach problems hit (I was taking a gel every 5 miles, instead of my typical one gel per marathon). I spent 3 or 4 minutes at one of those “blue kiosks” along side the road, then emerged feeling better and ready to make my way to the finish. I crossed the line in 4:04:24 shaking my head and wondering where that performance came from. I didn’t do any speed work, I didn’t train for hills, I didn’t taper. In short, I didn’t prepare for Boston and didn’t take my training seriously. All my runs in the last 18 months have been about increasing my endurance and yet somehow Boston 2009 was my 3rd fastest marathon out of the 33 I’ve run. I’ve proved to myself that there is still some speed in the legs, I just have to decide if that’s what I want then spend some time training for it.

Pacific Rim One Day Ultra

Sometimes I’m amazed at how quickly the body and mind can adapt. What was once an inconceivable idea became a “once-in-a-lifetime” goal. Last weekend that “once-in-a-lifetime” goal became a “I have nothing better to do” activity. How and when did running significant distances become so matter-of-fact? When did my mind decided running 50 miles took no more planning or preparation than a day trip to Seattle with the kids? I think my friend Olga summed it up when she said that she no longer trains: she is trained. Now she just runs. I think that’s where I am … I run for the joy and the miles pass. They come effortlessly and without preparation. They just are.

Pacific Rim One Day was a spur of the moment race. I had planned on running the Des Moines 6-hour Ultra the weekend before and hoped to log around 30 miles. Unfortunately the weather gods had other plans and brewed up a nasty storm the morning of the race. Snow and rain don’t bother me… strong winds ripping through alder forests are downright dangerous, so I decided not to run. I needed a long run, though, so the following Saturday I drove to a small lake in southwest Washington for the Pacific Rim One-Day Ultra Marathon. The race format consisted of a slightly longer than 1 mile loop around the lake, run as many times as possible in a 24 hour period. I wanted to put in a 50 mile day and stop mid-evening, leaving me plenty of time and energy to drive home. In past years, 50 miles would have been enough to place in the top 5 of the women’s category. This year, however, the race attracted a lot of very experienced and accomplished ultra runners, so I knew 50 miles wouldn’t get me into the top 50%. Even though there was no chance of placement, a far better opportunity awaited me: the chance to spend many hours with some of the Northwest’s top ultra runners. Ultra runners are a very welcoming lot and were more than happy to discuss race management, pacing, and nutrition. They treated me as one of their own, even though I am relatively new to the sport. By mid-day I felt like part of the family. As one new friend explained to me: we are all in this together, we all suffer and we all succeed.

Throughout the day I put into practice lessons learned from Across the Years: change shoes every 3 hours – more often if something doesn’t feel right. Eat often. Don’t be tempted to sit down or stop except to change shoes or clothing. If I get tired walk…. but not too long. Have a plan and follow it. Originally my plan was to run the first 5 miles to warm up, then use 3 minute run, 1 minute walk intervals. My plan changed after watching the ultra guru’s walk anything that even resembled a rise and the two sections of concrete. Life was good and I was running well until I felt twinges of cramping at mile 13. The twinges continued into mile 20, then I started bloating. I walked several miles as I worked to get my electrolytes in balance. By mile 32 everything was good again and I was running effortlessly. I was careful to eat a bite of something every mile. A shot of espresso at mile 35 gave me an extra boost beyond what I was expecting. The sun started to set and the temperatures drop as I ticked off my final miles. I really wanted to finish under 11 hours and with 2 laps to go, I realized I could finish under 10 ½ hours if I picked up the pace a bit. Miles 48 and 49 were my fastest for the race. After passing the lap station at mile 50 I stopped my watch, pulled on my warm ups and completed a final cool down lap. By this time I was freezing so I quickly grabbed my stuff and started the 2 hour drive home.

I woke the next morning slightly stiff, incredibly hungry and only one blister for my efforts. I stuck to my plan and was happy with my time and strong finish. I missed running through the night, though, and regret that I didn’t make plans to run the whole 24 hours. There is something magical about running all night: suffering and succeeding at the same time. I’ll be back next year, ready to go the distance.

Lost Dutchman Marathon

4:30 a.m. and it was time to get ready for my 3rd running of the Lost Dutchman Marathon! My legs felt fresh and full of life as I tried my hardest to eat a muffin and drink some coffee. I had no appetite, but I managed to get some food down.
I donned the same running outfit that I had on yesterday (but freshly laundered), slipped on my road shoes and headed out to meet the bus. 30 bumpy minutes after getting on the bus, we rounded the corner and saw the magical campfires blazing against the Superstitious Mountains. After letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I found the Seattle Maniacs huddled around one of the 20 or so fires. I knew most of them, and introduced myself to those that I didn’t. We talked about goals for the race… Mary was there to win, another woman was there to qualify for the Maniacs, Lesa was running her 50th marathon the first day of being 50 years old (and after running Pemberton with me the day before). I was there just to have a good time and finish. We were all laughing about the fact I had the same running clothes as yesterday when it occurred to me that last time I ran the Dutchman I didn’t have my suitcase either (Hmmm, maybe the Lost Dutchman has put some kind of jinx on me.)

We lined up for a shotgun start and soon were flying down the dirt road. The downhill start actually felt good and I decided to let myself flow with it. There would be plenty of time to adjust my pace later (or pay for early miles run too fast!)
A little ITBand soreness flared up in the first 5 miles, but by the time we hit the flat, paved highway I was fine. I forced myself to eat a gel at mile 8 and made a vow to eat something every 5 miles or I knew I would crash hard. I caught up to Lesa at mile 9, she stated that she wanted to finish in 5 hours: we agreed to do our best to make that goal. As runners know, a lot can happen over the course of a marathon and soon I was running by myself, legs tiring and starting to feel the effects of too little food yesterday. I still had almost 17 miles to run.

Mile 10 brought an unexpected blessing in the form of Maniac McGyver. He was running his trademark 11 mpm pace with a 3 minute run/1 minute walk ratio. I decided to join him and within a mile I was feeling refreshed. We ran together the next 5 miles, then I decided to continue on my own as he took a rest break. Even though I was now running by myself, I continued the walk/run ratio. I wasn’t totally alone either. Fred and Char Thompson from Texas, whom I met yesterday during the Pemberton came out to the course to cheer me on. They were at every spectator point, sending me high fives and encouragement. Every time I saw them I was surprised and touched that they came out to watch my effort. The last time I saw them on the course was at mile 22. Fred brought an assortment of goodies for me in case I was in need. He had gels, gummies and most importantly electrolytes that I needed badly. After downing an electrolyte and a bag of sports beans I headed down the dirt road to conquer the final and toughest rolling miles, including the hill known as the Dutchman’s Revenge. Reaching the top, I found myself a little teary-eyed. 3 more miles and I would complete my 39th race of 26.2 or greater, 3 years after completing my first marathon on this very same course.

Just the thought gave me extra energy, helped along by a nice cool cross wind on what can be a miserably hot final 3 miles. I crossed the line with more energy than I would have thought possible in 4:45:00. Lesa was waiting for me, suggesting that I run the Yours Truly 50k with her next Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson were also there, encouraging me to join them in Texas for a 50/100 miler or fixed time race. Mary was in the picnic shelter waiting for the awards. She had in fact won the Women’s race, an inspiring accomplishment for the 47 year old Maniac runner.

Mr. Hawk found me after completing his own training run on the desert trails. We made our way back to the hotel, sat on the lawn with a recovery beer and assessed the damage: one blistered pinky and a very happy Maniac impatiently waiting for her next race.

Pemberton Trail 50k

I’ve heard about the Pemberton Trail for years. It is the site of a 100 mile desert race known as the Javalina Jundred in October. There also happens to be a 50k held on the same trail in February. Since I was planning on being in Arizona anyway and running the Lost Dutchman Marathon, I decided to make it a double weekend and do the Pemberton Trail 50k the day before. It seemed like a good way to preview the trail should I ever decide to do the Javalina Jundred, and I want to do more doubles in 2009, this was the perfect opportunity.

Ric and I went up to McDowell Mountain Park on Thursday with the intention of running a few miles on the trails to better prepare for Saturday. Through a series of unfortunate events (basically I lost my car keys), I had to leave my suitcase in Seattle with most of my running stuff. A 7 mile run on the trails confirmed that I needed to wear my trail shoes, carry a water bottle, find a hat and some gaiters if possible. Ric was surprised at how difficult trail running can be….. I wasn’t, I’ve done enough to know that a course can vary from easy bike paths to hand-over-fist mountain scrabbles. During our preview run we encountered deep sand washes, jagged and loose “rock gardens” and beautifully packed sandy trails. Ric asked me how long I thought it would take to run 31 miles on this course. I answered “6 hours” he replied “I’ll give you 6 and a half” and we left it at that.

Saturday morning I was up at 4:30, fueled up with a banana muffin and a cup of coffee, then headed for the race. When I arrived I was greeted by a nice camp fire and the sound of coyotes in the very near darkness. 200 hundred runners were milling around getting ready to race, nearly half were women (unusual for the male dominated sport of ultra-running) . I found a few of my friends from Across the Years and had a quick catch-up conversation. At 7:00, a little before dawn, we were sent off down the trail to complete the first of 2 laps. The first mile rolled lazily up and down, through soft washes. Then we started to climb. The climbing was difficult… not because it was steep, but because the loose, sharp rocks threatened to turn the ankles of the unaware. The climbing continued, interrupted by little rolling downhills every once in awhile. We hit the first aid-station at mile 5, I grabbed a few pretzels, thought about emptying the rocks out of my shoes, but instead just continued down the trail. After the aid station we continued to climb until mile 7, then rode a series of rolling hills along the ridge overlooking the green desert below. Mile 8 opened up onto a jeep road that was smooth and flat until we hit the next aid station at mile 10. From then on to the start/finish/halfway point the trail slowly descended and tired legs found renewed energy. I hit the half way point in 2:45, found my drop bag, stashed my long sleeve shirt and slathered on more sunscreen. A deep breath and I was headed down the trail again for loop two.

By now the sun was out and I noticed how exposed the course was. No shade anywhere. This time, as I approached the rock garden climb, I decided to walk and not risk turning an ankle. Most people seemed to employ the same strategy. Once I hit the ridge I became aware of a stiff, cool breeze hitting me in the face. It was cold enough that I was encouraged to keep up a good pace in an effort to stay warm, but it also made for very pleasant running. Right then and there I decided that the Javalina Jundred would not be on my race schedule: running in winter with a cool breeze through the exposed desert is one thing… having to do this same course in October with temps in the high 80’s or 90’s would not be so fun.

I continued to move forward, sometimes walking, mostly running, through the final aid station at mile 25 and on to the finish. I was a little tired at the end, but generally feeling great. I grabbed a few cookies, found Ric and some Maniac’s and just soaked in the wonderful feeling of a nice, challenging run among good friends. On the way back to the hotel, I did a mental tally of how I did: finish time of 6:06… would have been faster if I hadn’t wasted so much time at the half way point so I need to get more efficient at the aid stations. Consumed one pack of sports beans and one gel, a handful of pretzels and a few potato chips: not much in the way of calories but I felt like I had plenty of energy. I may pay the price later for not staying sufficiently fueled. Sore ankles, but everything else felt good. An ice bath followed by plenty of food and sleep should set me up well for tomorrow.

West Seattle Fat Ass 50k

The morning started out dark and cool, but not nearly as cold as previous mornings. I arrived at the shelter along Alki beach a few minutes before 7. A few runners had already gathered by the fire and I was surprised that half a dozen or so congratulated me on my Across the Years race. I didn’t think anyone would have noticed… after all we are a bunch of Maniacs and running long distances is what we do. We were issued small numbers to pin to our clothing, given a few quick instructions (including “track your own time in case we get it wrong” and sent off into the dark.

I ran the first 8 miles of the double out and back with Jill Hudson and Linda Walters. We were running at a good clip and I became a little concerned that the pace would wear me down too early in the 31 mile race. At the turn around, Linda developed hip problems and dropped back. Jill and I pressed on around a 9:30 minutes per mile pace, but kept forcing ourselves to try and slow down. We decided that running together may not be in our best interest since we kept pushing the pace and both of us wanted long, slow training runs… not PR attempts. We made an agreement that we would make it back to the start line together, then go out on our own for the second leg.

I hung around the start area for a few minutes: chatting, eating a little and letting Jill get enough ahead of me that I wouldn’t be tempted to run with her. By the time I set out, the sun was warming up the course nicely but a breeze off the water kept a chill in the air. 20 miles into the run I noticed that I hadn’t eaten much, nor was I hungry. My pace was still good, but not blazing so I decided a PR might just be in the cards for the day. I pushed through any desire for long walk breaks, instead just slowing my running pace for a quarter mile or so. I focused on the scenery, the architecture and the Sunday morning athletes with their dogs, roller blades or baby strollers. The last 8 miles became more difficult as the headwind started to increase. I made it back to the start line and a welcoming fire in 5:34. A new PR by about 6 minutes.

I loved this race and hope it becomes a Maniac tradition in the years to come.

Across the Years Ultra Marathon

Many people find themselves on an endless quest, searching for the meaning of life. I have been on a similar quest and may not have the answer, but I think I know where it can be found: on an isolated little dirt track in Buckeye, Arizona.

Across the Years Ultra Marathon
One of my goals for 2008 was to run a 50 mile ultra marathon. I had completed 5 50k’s, but they didn’t feel like real ultras: just extra long marathons. I thought if I could complete a 50 miler, then I could consider myself a true ultra runner. The problem I faced, however, was cut off times. Since I had no experience, I was afraid I would miss cut-offs and be pulled off the course. Then I heard about Across the Years. Across the Years is one of the premier fixed time events, attracting athletes from all over the world. The race is held on a 1/3 mile dirt track on a private estate know as Nardini Manor and offers 72, 48 and 24-hour options. The 24-hour race seemed perfect for a 50 mile attempt. The only obstacle was getting into the race. The criteria is kept secret, and the application states that fact. In reality, I think the race director just likes to choose whom he wishes without having to explain or justify. I had no problem with that, it’s his race, he can invite whomever he wants. In early spring I filled out the application (stating that my goal was 70 miles so I wouldn’t seem like such a newcomer), sent in my money and then waited patiently until mid August when selected participants would be announced.

Let the Training Begin
I didn’t wait passively. I trained as if I would be selected. My first order of business was to try a fixed time event and get a feel for running by time instead of distance. I found a nice, low key 6-hour race just 45 minutes from home. The race was held on a 4 mile undulating, single track trail on a chilly, drizzly March morning. I loved it from the very first lap: my only goal was to complete the marathon distance, then just cruise along until the clock ran out. Many runners were faster than me… all the usual suspects who beat me at the marathon. A fun thing started to happen as the race wore on, though. All those fast runners started to drop out after they reached the marathon distance. I heard many comments on how hard it was to keep going, hour after hour. I kept running and surprised myself by finishing 2nd in the women’s race.

As summer approached I bumped up my long run schedule by completing 5 marathons in 5 weeks, concluding with a June double: the Green River Marathon/North Olympic Discovery Marathon combo. I had run a similar double last year and swore once was enough. This time, though, it was much easier. In fact I even enjoyed it. After the June double I turned to trail marathons for the remainder of the summer. One of the trail marathons, Haulin’ Aspen, was held on the same day Across the Years selections were to be announced. I was so excited that I carried my Blackberry with me so I could check my email while on the trail. Every 5 miles I stop, pull out the Blackberry and look for the anticipated message. Finally, with a little over 3 miles left to race, that message came: I’d been accepted!

I topped off my training with one final double marathon weekend in late October: the Columbia River Power Marathon/Tri-Cities Marathon Combo. My combined time was 45 minutes faster than my June double and my recovery was rapid, so I knew I was as ready. The only thing left was to formulate a race day strategy and maintain my fitness. Maintaining fitness was the easy part: a 20 mile run every other weekend and a final marathon 3+weeks from race day.

My race strategy was a little more difficult to formulate. I read reports from others who specialized in fixed time events and tried out their strategies during my long runs. I finally settled on running the first 5 miles to warm up, switch to a 1 lap walk/2 lap run ratio until I hit 50k, then adjust the walk/run ratio as needed to hit my 50 mile goal. After that I would give myself permission to quit or just move forward in any manner possible.

December 31st: Into the Great Unknown
Ric, my loyal crew, and I arrived at Nardini Manner just a few minutes before the pre race meeting. We were given a few quick instructions, mainly to watch out for the 72-hour runners since most them were running in their sleep. At 9 sharp I took off around the track while Ric set up my personal aid station. I elected to have only a chair, sleeping bag, a few warm clothes and 3 pairs of shoes at my station along with the usual electrolyte tablets, pain killers and cell phone. I didn’t want my station to be too comfortable and lull me into resting longer than absolutely necessary.

On my first lap, I started to realize I was a mere mortal running among ultra marathon giants. I came upon Daniel, an amputee that was featured in The Distance of Truth movie, we chatted a bit or rather he offered up bits of wisdom and I listen intently. Next was Lisa, the 2006 Badwater women’s champion. Then there was John, a 48-hour record hold who came to Across the Years to set the 72-hour record. John was hobbling badly but telling the most endearing stories to a 7 year old who walk beside him. I later found out that John was injured early the first day, but decided to keep going in whatever way possible to complete the race. Once when I passed John he was telling his young companion: “I have my 300 mile belt buckle, my 200 mile buckle and this year I can complete my collection with the 100 mile buckle.”

There were lots of world class athletes from over seas in attendance, too. At first the German women intimidated me…. They were strong, they were experienced, they were determined and they held all sorts of world records. Yikes! Then, a few hours later I was running past the most terrifying of them and heard the sweetest voice sing out “well hello Marilou, goodbye heart…” After that, Heinke would sing my name every time I passed, sometimes accompanied by other words of encouragement or a pat on the back, a slap of the hands.

Wars were being waged on the track as well. There was a mentally bloody battle going on between the 72 hour record holder, Martina from Germany, and American Juli. Juli was fast but also took many breaks and slept several hours at night. Martina never slept, she just kept going at a relatively slow but incredibly consistent pace. I found myself smack dab in the middle of this battle as Martina decided I was a good person to voice her frustrations to. Laps would go by while I listened to Martina… there alone without crew, talk about her racing and sleepless nights and determination to beat Juli. Then a little while later, Juli would come by and give me uplifting words of encouragement, never once talking about her own race, never once talking about Martina. I admired them both for their courage and for approaching the race their own way and didn’t know whom to root for, so I rooted for both.

My own race was like a blur. I covered the first 50 miles in a little over 11 hours following my pre race strategy and felt strong going into the night. Then when I sat down to change shoes and put on warmer clothing, I couldn’t get back up again. Thankfully Ric joined me at 9:00 p.m. , got me moving, then ran/walked with me for the next 5 miles. Right after Ric left, I caught a second wind and made my way to 100K (62 miles) fairly easily. Everyone warned me about running at night and how hard it was. I found that it was my favorite part of the race. At midnight the race director passed out hats and horns to all the runners and ushered us to the center of the track. He had champagne waiting, we toasted in the New Year then headed out for a celebratory lap together as fireworks launched from the surrounding cotton fields. Not too long after, I found myself mostly walking. I kept telling myself to just tick off the miles… keep moving. One by one runners left the course for the comfort and warmth of the big, heated tent. I started playing motivational games with myself: one more lap and I can read my mail (friends could leave me messages over the internet and they would be delivered to a track side mailbox). One more mile and I could call Mariposa and check in. One more lap and I can have a burrito, one more mile and I can have a cup of coffee, one more lap and I can sit by the fire for a moment. And so it went throughout the night. By 3:00 just a hand full of runners were left. At 4:30 the neighborhood roosters started to crow and stiff, sleepy runners emerged from their tents. Pancakes and oatmeal were brought trackside to help those hardy enough to stay on the course, missing the buffet served in the heated tent. As the sun was rising, I approached mile 80 with a smile on my face. Thirty miles over my minimum goal, ten miles over my stretch goal.

My Best Motivator is Unfinished Business
I decided to complete my race at mile 80 and over two hours early. I did this for several reasons. First, I had exceeded my goal. I was cold, tired and my feet felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to the soles. Secondly, I knew I couldn’t cover 20 miles in the next 2 hours, so 80 seemed like a good round number. Thirdly, nothing motivates me like unfinished business. Had I raced the full 24 hours, even if I didn’t reach 100 miles, I would have felt I found my limit. Leaving something undone, like running only 22 hours, gave me something to strive for next year.

The Real Test: Post Race Recovery
A lot of people judge their fitness and performance based only on how well they did at their goal event. I think there is more to it than that. I look at how I feel during the race. Is my heart rate good? Do my legs have spring and strength? Do I still feel like I want to race again at the finish? Then I look at my recovery. How quickly do my legs bounce back? My strength? My appetite? Can I walk the next day? Run two days later? I like quick recovery and value that above speed. To me, it means that I am not doing irreparable damage to my system. So how did I do at Across the Years? I was stiff the same day I finished the race and could barely walk. I took lots of naps, I had no appetite. The next day, my appetite came roaring back. I could navigate stairs and went on a 2 mile walk. By day three I was feeling almost normal except my right foot (still raw with blisters). I walked a total of 6 miles, although I did run out of energy the last ¼ mile. All and all, I think my recovery was pretty rapid. Day four found me registering for my next 50k.

And what of that original quest?
One just has to go there at the end of December to know that the soil of Nardini Manor, trampled a million times over by the soles and souls of ultra running icons, contains the answer to one of life’s greatest mysteries. Peer into the gentle but determined eyes of one of the legendary runners and you will see that they know the meaning of life. Maybe next year, I’ll find it too, somewhere beyond 100 miles.

Las Vegas Marathon

I had low expectations for Las Vegas. All the past reports I have read have been very negative. I knew they were notorious for late starts, running out of stuff at aid stations, and little food at the finish line. I also knew the weather could be cold and windy, and the course boring. I made sure I was prepared for the worst. I brought lots of clothing for all weather conditions and carried enough gel with me to get me through the race.
Sometimes when expectations are low, things turn out surprisingly well. First, our hotel was very nice and not terribly crowded. The cowboys were in town for the National Finals Rodeo, so that gave a nice feel to Vegas. We found a great place to eat and watch the rodeo with all the cow folk within easy walking distance to our hotel. Also, we found the Cowboy Marketplace and had fun shopping for belts.
The marathon itself had some nice surprises, too. First, all the brides getting ready to for the run-through chapel at mile 5. I think there were 45 couples taking part this year. Second, was the whole herd of Elvi.. most were running the half, but a few were running all 26.2 in full Elvis gear. Third, was a huge fireworks show that started the race. I couldn’t believe how long it lasted and it was really spectacular. Last, and possibly best was finally meeting and running with Marathon Maniac Larry Macon. I didn’t know it at the time, but completing the Las Vegas Marathon would make Larry a world record holder: 105 marathons in one calendar year.
The marathon started at 6 am. It was cold and dark as we made our way to the start line. The race website said there would be a corral for people expecting to complete the marathon in under 4 hours. This simply wasn’t true. It was a free-for-all. 20,000 marathoners and half marathoners, runners and walkers all jammed together. The first few miles were slow. People dodging in and out, stopping without warning, slamming into each other. It was slow going. At mile 4 I ran into Larry. By that time, any hope of getting a BQ was long gone, so I decided to relax, run slow and make a new friend. Larry and I ran together for several miles, chatting and engaging in typical Maniac conversation: How many have you run? When did you start? Why did you start? What’s next? Unfortunately, Larry is somewhat famous and other Maniacs came by wanting in on the conversation. I started talking to a few of them who were running a slightly faster pace and before I knew it, Mr. Macon was left behind.
As usual, I ran a few miles with one person, then by myself before meeting another runner to become friends with before moving on again. The race itself was rather ordinary. On the way back into town, we ran through the backside of the strip. I couldn’t believe how badly it smelled. All the glamour on Las Vegas Blvd, and all the rot and all the rot and decay behind the scenes. When we rounded the corner for the final push to the finish we were presented with little plastic leis. Half a mile later I crossed the finish line in an unspectacular 4:30:00. I grabbed a chocolate milk, found Ric, then walked back to the hotel. After a quick shower, we started walking again, stopped for lunch and continued to walk. We walked until 6:00 or so, stopped for dinner, then headed back to our room at 8:00. A total of 15 hours on my feet. Monday morning we walked some more… at least 5 or 6 hours. I was pleased with all the time on my feet because it put a cap on my training for Across the Years. 3 weeks and I’ll be running the big one!