Ok, Ogden Marathon.
While I feel like I could write a novel about the race, I'll try to keep it semi-brief. If I did write a novel, though, it would be called "If Eden is this Hot, Who Needs Hell?"
Ok, to be fair, Eden wasn't that hot. But it did get very warm toward the end of the race as we approached the valley floor. All kinds of weird things happened to me during this race, some of which I will address below. Others, hopefully, will just fade out of memory.
Pre-Race: The night before the race I stayed up above Eden at my friend Kathryn's vacation house. Kathryn (a black sheep) and a few of our other black sheep friends, Derick, Casey, Johanna and Mark, were all running together as a relay in the marathon (team name "the Stinging Sturgeons" ... it's a long story). Also joining us up there was Lisa Madsen who had trained hard for the marathon and was primed to race well (she finished in 3:07, a 20+ minute PR!). We watched "Alone in the Wilderness," which, if you have not seen it, you should.check out this you tube excerpt. A great testament to patience, persistence and ingenuity. I suppose one could analogize those things to the marathon. I didn't make the analogy until just now, however, and my race shows it. Nevertheless, the Stinging Sturgeons won the relay overall so they got it right at least.
Race:
The pre-race was mostly uneventful. I stand in line for the porta potty next to Jeff Galloway pretty often, so nothing unusual there. The one thing that was a real concern was the weather--too nice at 6:30 a.m., way too nice. I had a jacket on, didn't need it. Didn't need a hat. Wore gloves for a while more out of habit than anything. When I finally stripped down to the singlet and shorts, I don't think I felt chilly even for one second. The sun was already beginning to beat down. This was not a good sign.
On Friday, Jeff Shadley and I exchanged messages about running together. He was shooting for 2:35. I told him that was ambitious for me, especially if the weather was going to be a factor, but I said I would hang on as long as I could. My pre-race goals were: 1) sub-2:37 for a great race; 2) sub-2:40 for an acceptable race. Although I would end up tanking toward the end, I think going out with Jeff was the right call. It gave me someone to work with and break up some of the race. On a better day, I would have been able to hang longer.
Anyway, the gun goes off and we're rolling down the canyon. The river is rushing with cold water, we're feeling good. Running in 5th and 6th place we were already totally alone between the pack of four ahead and the other chase packs behind us by mile 2. It was like being out for a long run, no one in sight.
It was within the first couple of aid stations that things started not to go well. With the heat, I knew it would be important to hydrate at every opportunity. The problem was that things weren't staying down very well. It's not uncommon for me to burp up a little bit of my pre-race nutrition and hydration during the early miles of a race. You can't call it puking, more like spitting up. Usually that goes away quickly, but in this race, for some reason, I continued to do that all the way until about mile 20. As I reflect, I think this took a toll in this long race. I needed to be able to keep down all the fluid I was taking in, but I just kept foaming it back up. (Mmm...that was some good red Powerade, let's see that again!). It probably also brought up some of the gels I was taking too, depleting me even more. One reason I suspect this was a factor is that after the race I was immediately very hungry, eating everything I could get my hands on. Usually, it takes me ten minutes or so before anything other than a bit of orange or banana sounds good. On a side note, the only significant change in my pre-race routine was that I had quite a few grilled vegetables the night before along with my pasta. Usually I just go with pasta. (Note that the veggies were great, however).
Back to the race. So, we're cruising along through mile eight and I'm foaming up a storm, tyring to assure Jeff this was normal (even when it was becoming quite abnormal). Splits were 5:53, 5:59, 5:49, 5:45, 5:43, 5:45, 5:48, 5:48 for miles 1-8 (based on my Garmin, the markers were off). Mostly, this felt good, but I didn't have that feeling like I was just going through the motions. I knew I would have to work through the next section to get through Eden and to the Canyon. Jeff and I started to trade leads every half mile or so, which worked fairly well for a while. Neither of us was being very militant about sticking to a schedule and there was some flexibility in it.
So then we're rolling towards Eden. I'm glad I had the Striders series experience to guide me through all of this a couple of times. It is a tough section for any race, particularly a marathon. The toll that rollers take from you on the uphill is almost always greater than the benefit you get from the moderate downhills. The goal was to hit the half in about 1:18. We rolled into Eden around 1:17 something, and this seemed like we were right on pace. There was an exchange point for the relay and a good crowd and I almost missed the aid station, but that was probably my last hurrah in the race. Mile splits for 9-13 were 5:55, 5:57, 6:07, 6:04, 6:08. Slowing down would be come a significant trend very soon.
We climed up through the hill at 15 which wasn't so bad since we took it so easy. Once we were winding toward the mouth of the canyon, I was still foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog at each aid station, but I caught a little second wind and I was looking forward to the descent into Ogden at 18. Mile splits 14-18 were 6:02, 6:28, 6:06, 6:07, 5:51. Around 17.5 or so, Jeff started to pull away. No problem, I knew I would have to run my race. But I was still looking forward to the descent so I could really pick up some time. But as soon as I started to drop into the canyon, I suddenly had this realization ... "hey, wait a minute ... I can't run very fast!" I realized that I was beginning to tank at the very point in the race that I should have been picking up time. The first couple of miles into the canyon have a pretty runnable grade and it was wasted on me. I realized I was hitting the wall--something that hasn't happened in a long time--and I knew I had to improvise. Too bad I couldn't come up with anything useful other than just to keep going. I had a few momemts where I felt like I was recovering, but for the most part, I was fighting many factors. My calves started to cramp up intermittently (which is my own personal death rattle in the marathon) and it was way too early for that. The thing is, there is no graceful exit. You either quit or you keep going. I kept going. It was painfully ugly, but I kept going. Splits from 18-23 were 6:07, 6:14, 6:15, 6:09, 5:57.
At about mile 23.5 or so, I saw Josh Steffen and his wife Megan standing on the grass during the trail section. Josh yelled "CARBOOM!" which usually makes me laugh my butt off, but instead I merely turned my ankle on a curb and almost ate it. Nice. Josh jumped in to join me for a couple of miles. We were winding through half marathoners and trying to get water at aid stations. Josh keeps me laughing all the time when we're running, but I was pretty much brain dead at that point ... phoning it in. Josh said that I really needed to "dig." To which I replied ..."yeah, dig a grave." I'm usually not quite that morose. The trail section we were running at that point was nice and would be great in training, but I actually found it a little bit tedious with all the turning and little hills and having to dodge half marathon walkers, etc. It makes sense to have it in the race, but I wish I had prepared for it a little more.
So now the mile splits are really suffering, just like me. At some point, we emerged on to Grant Street and there is this painfully long straightaway to the finish. Being nearsighted, I am accustomed to having blurred vision of faraway objects, but this was ridiculous. Where was the finish, Draper? Josh dropped off at mile 26 to let me bask in the glory of my calf-cramped limp to the finish line, struggling to keep my composure and redeem some sense of dignity. I'm so glad I can laugh at this now, but it stunk at the time! Mile splits for 24-26.2 were 6:24, 6:32, 6:47, and 2:58. My watch had 26.44 overall, so that last split is for almost a half mile. That pretty much sums it up.
When it's all said and done, I placed excactly how I should have placed, though I think I should have been a minute or two faster. The heat and my nutrition/hydration problems took a toll. I know from my bad attitude toward the end that it had to be a glycogen problem. I get moody when I'm hungry, and I was really, really moody.
After the race, I stood in the river for 10 minutes with Johanna and Mark. That seemed to help my calves, which feel pretty good today all things considered.
Although I think times were slow across the board, it was great to see the FRB Team putting in so many great finishes. It's an honor to run with so many talented men and women. Congrats to you all. After the race, Josh and Megan stopped by my house and Josh presented me with a small reward for my race, a vanilla creme filled donut covered with chocolate, sprinkles, and orange stripes. They thought I wouldn't eat it. Ha! I devoured it in not time! It was awesome.
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