Seeking a better country...

 All right!  I'm excited about this race report.  My dad drove me, my sister and mom up to the expo around 7pm.  We picked up our bibs and got some chocolate milk and orange juice.  I momentarily thought about scrapping my life and joining the Odgen Bike Shop Collective.  When I picked up my number, I didn't have my drivers license.  I told the lady it had been revoked.  She seemed pretty appalled.  I guess I better find it so I don't offend any race volunteers' sensibilities in the future.  I should have really given her an earful about running to get clean, etc...

After the expo, we headed up to Wolf Creek to stay the night.  We had penne pasta for dinner and watched "Run Fat Boy, Run" to inspire/entertain us.  We retired around 11.  The upstairs neighbors were very noisy until about 1.  I went and banged on their door a few times.  They never answered, but they got quiet.  I slept well from 1 to 5:15.  We ate, got our crap together, and caught the bus in Huntsville around 6:15.  We waited in porta potty lines until 6:55, and headed over for the start.  Logistically, everything went perfectly.   I ate a gel before the start, and boom, we were off.  I lined up with the 7 minute pace.  

The first third of the race is fantastic.  The slope is perfect for flying effortlessly.  I love watching the group settle into the bell curve of runners.  The morning was cold, and I was glad for my gloves.  I ditched the overshirt and ran sleeveless and shorts the whole time.  Lingering images from the first 8 miles were seeing everyone ahead of me exhaling.  It was cold enough to see their effort, and it was really cool to see all these awesome, fit, powerful runners making it look easy.

In my mind, this race is a breeze until the right turn to circle the lake.  At mile 8 you hit the flat, and the spread increases with the runners.  I struggled mightily in the late parts of the race last year, and was determined not to duplicate that performance.  I was taking Gu every 4-5 miles to try to stave off starvation and stupidity.  The problem was, it was making me feel sick to my stomach.  I felt full the whole race, cuz I can't down that stuff without water.  Anyhow, things went well up to the halfway point.  I saw my mom and dad there, and collected some jelly beans I never ate.  But I carried them for 10 miles.  

Then comes mile 14.  This is where the wheels began to wobble for me last year.  Not this time.  I powered up that hill, passing 5 or 6 people, in a sparse field.  (They would pass me later, but still...)  The far side of the lake seems to go on forever, but finally I crossed the dam and enjoyed that slope down on mile 18.  I was checking my splits every couple miles, and at this point I still had 4 minutes banked.  

I know I said that the west side of the lake seems interminable.  Well, multiply that by some factor for the canyon.  Last year, by mile 21 I was back to even, and quit.  I stopped believing the elevation profile, and literally felt like I was running uphill.  This year the canyon stayed downhill the whole time, but it was still a struggle.  I was feeling so sick of Gu, I think I skipped one, and was flagging somewhat.  My time cushion shrunk to 3 minutes by mile 21, but I wasn't worried.  I had an ace in the hole.  My sister was going to come run me in, and I figured it didn't matter how crappy I was doing, she would browbeat me into a BQ finish.  Well, the cops wouldn't let her up the canyon, so I unexpectedly went those final canyon miles alone.  It was a relief to see her at the mouth, and even better to get out of that endless canyon.

The trail.  I hate the trail for several reasons.  These are risky miles for a very inexperienced marathoner like myself.  I ran up to 22 miles in training, and have one other marathon under my belt, so the sensations are very unfamiliar.  I hate the narrowness.  This is exacerbated by the people who are walking??? biking??? standing there for no apparent reason???  What I really hate are the groups of walkers that are four abreast, blocking the whole trail, forcing you off into the bark or grass.  Oh sure, they say, "Good job!  Keep it up!  You are almost there!"  as you pass.  I'd rather they move their wide loads out of the way.  The last thing anybody needs at this stage of the race is to play dodge the people pinball with lots of turning and lateral movement.  Enough of that rant, but man, it bugged me last year and this.

So, between the obstructions, fatigue, twists and turns, climbs up from under roads, these miles were rocky.  My right knee and left butt were pretty sore, and I stopped a couple times to stretch.  Shannon was encouraging, and didn't browbeat me too much, but I know I made her nervous.  I didn't want to be stopping, but I was stopping a bit.  I need to toughen up a little bit.

We caught a couple guys that were also shooting for a 3:15.  They immediately recognized that Shannon was fresh, and joined our little pace group.  We were all fried, and struggling, so we'd leapfrog each other a bit.  At mile 25, I passed "what's his name" for the last time.  I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "We've got 10 minutes."  I got thinking, "I can do anything for 10 minutes."  Well, I couldn't.  I walked again on Grant, but it was just for a couple sets of cones.  My boys showed up at 25.5, and my daughter had a sign.  I started seeing my family as those final tenths disappeared.  I wish I felt a huge lift, but I was dog tired.  Max was telling me how far I had to go every tenth of a mile, and I finally told him to just shut up.  I didn't want to know.  Finally the finish line was in sight.  The clock rolled over 3:15 just ahead of my finish, but I'm sure my chip time was a bit under.  My watch said 3:14:52; 11 minutes of last years PR, and BQ.

At the misters, I ran into "what's his name".  He came in under 3:16, so he qualified too.  It was great for him.  We shared and awkward and lingering man hug.  But it wasn't awkward, just great to have put it all out there and achieved.  

After a couple creamies I felt a bit better, but not much.  I got a weak-sauce massage from perhaps the wimpiest masseur ever.  But I appreciated it.  I wouldn't be too into touching a sweaty guy either.  

Put a fork in me.  I'm done.  I feel pretty well, 4 hours post-race.  The warm bath and motrin helped a lot.  Now I'm going to eat, eat, and eat some more.  But no more Gus for a while.