Keeping myself sane!!!

I planned on heading down to St. George for an extended weekend in following with tradition, for my wife's birthday.  She enjoys getting away from the cold, smog, and snow of Salt Lake this time each year.  I enjoy it too and it is a great excuse to do some running in beautiful southern Utah.

Just before packing up and heading down last Wednesday, I did my daily ritual of scanning through Facebook.  It was then that I saw a posting about the Dogtown Half Marathon, 9K and 5K races.  As luck would have it; the timing was perfect for my weekend excursion.   I gained approval from Melissa, and signed up just before heading down south.  She has always been supportive of my participation in running events, and for that I am truly grateful.

The race start was just off I-15, at the Hurricane/Zions National Park exit, within a business complex next to a Harley-Davidson dealership and a Holiday Inn Hotel.  It couldn't have been more convenient, as my wife and I stayed with my father in-law whose home was only ten minutes away.  The starting time of 9:00 a.m., was perfect as well for a full night of sleep.  I arrived  with about twenty minutes to spare; just enough for the port-o-potties, and to line  up at the start.

The first couple miles were a gradual downward slope that wound its way through an area called Coral Canyon, past nice and fairly new homes.  My pace felt really good and I was excited to be racing for the first time in about 4 months.  The  weather was near perfect for runnning, with temperatures in the high 30's and very little wind.

Just out of Coral Canyon, runners crossed a dual lane roadway, and then to a service road for the local landfill.  Fortunately; a trail system forked off to the west, and that's where we headed.  The next couple miles were run along a mostly paved, descending and winding pathway through a narrow canyonway.  The turn-over in my legs was my limitation through this section, as I felt easy with my breating, but lacked some downhill speed.

The trail  came out of the narrows, and then followed the Virgin River for a short distance.  There were some gentle rollers from around miles 6-9, but they were not all too cumbersome.  I played leapfrog with a runnner from Ogden, and he pointed out three women up ahead that we could try to latch on to. 

Just prior to mile 10, a slight hill raised my pace for the slowest of the race, however a downhill shortly followed.  The course held a fairly flat trend from then on until the finish, with  a few turns here and there. I latched on to the Ogden runner until mile 11, and  then put in a surge in an attempt to reel in the runners in my sights.  I passed one of the women runners around mile 11.5, and then another of the women just after mile 12.   The third woman, attired in bright neon pink, was running strong and was just out of reach.  She finished about 30 seconds ahead, and was the first female finisher.

It was a really fun and well organized race.  I am impressed with the course and all the scenery the area has to offer.  I would definitely like to put this race on the calendar for next year! 

I received a  first place finish in my age group, which came as a surprise, and  was definitely beyond my expectations. My splits were:

1.  6:27

2. 6:22

3. 6:27

4. 6:03

5. 6:17

6. 6:39

7. 6:53

8. 6:20

9. 6:46

10. 6:59

11. 6:35

12. 6:13

13. 6:28

It was a good overall day for a race and another opportunity to test my training and current level of fitness.  The course is definitely not conducive to a pr for me with all the rollers creating a challenge to maintain an even effort. I did hope to better my time for the course from a few years ago however, and managed to do so by around 4 minutes.

I started out towards the front, as I didn't want to get caught in traffic for the first few miles.  I wasn't sure if I really belonged there, as the race seems to bring out many elites, and I felt a little out of place. The answer came as we began, and it seemed that I was on que with those around me.  Within a couple miles, there was a pleasant spacial gap around myself and other runners.  This was basically the case for the remainder of the race, other than a little leapfrogging here and there.

My pacing felt quite labored throughout the race, yet maintainable, other than a bout of side stitches between miles 7 & 8.   I enjoyed the finish as another runner came upon me in a sprint about 100 yds from the line. I wasn't  going down without a fight, so we went head-to-head and finished in a tie on the clock.  He ultimately had me with 2 seconds of chip time.

My Garmin splits were:

1. 6:17

2. 6:31

3. 6:27

4. 6:25

5. 6:31

6. 6:34

7. 6:37

8. 6:45

9. 6:28

10. 6:39

11. 6:27

12. 6:35

13. 6:26

.19. 6:15

As I looked out my window at 4 a.m., I saw snow covering the grass and my vehicle in the driveway.  The temps were in the low 20's, and had me thinking it would be nice to jump back to bed.  I wasn't to embark upon the day's trail event for something leisurely to do with a Saturday, and therefore, it would make the day just a little more interesting.  As it would turn out, the weather was quite pleasant and the trails were free and clear. (Other than a few muddy spots here and there.) 

I would have liked to have finished a bit faster, but it was still a decent overall experience.  I ran with a good friend for a few miles, and was able to see Melissa a couple times along the way as well.  I am still a newbie to the world of ultrarunning and have a lot to learn.  I think one of my downfalls is running too conservatively.  My threshold for going long is still vaguely charted territory, and I have a tendency to hold on to the reigns.  The flip side is that I still felt relatively fresh in the last few miles and after finishing.  I need to work on the delicate balance between pushing hard enough for a respectable finish, and all the while avoiding a first ever dnf.

With the horrific tragedy earlier this week at the Boston Marathon, I felt some additional inspiration for my participation in this year’s Salt Lake City Marathon.  There was no doubt it would be a special event and a multitude of emotions would be emanating from the participants.  This held true, more than I had imagined.

I pulled my “Boston 2010” long sleeve tech shirt and windbreaker jacket out to be worn for the race, and then attached the yellow and blue ribbons which had been distributed at the packet pick up, to my bib number.  All the other usual pre race preparations were made, and Melissa and I headed out the door for the drive to Liberty Park.  I parked down a side street, bid her farewell, and briskly walked over to catch a bus that would take runners to the Trax Light Rail Station.

Upon arriving to the station, a representative for the Altra Shoe Company flagged runners down the platform for free yellow Tech shirts, with the message “Keep Running” on one side, and “Run for Boston, 4.15.13” on the other side.  It was a sincere and generous gesture on their part, and many runners slipped them on and could be seen throughout the race showing their support to Boston.  We all waited in the drizzling rain on the platform for our train.

The ride to the start line was crammed as usual, with runners filling every inch of available space.  What was not in the ordinary was a bomb squad coming aboard with their K-9’s in the next to last stop, to conduct a search, in assurance for everyone’s safety.   I’m certain that a majority of runners appreciated this precaution, and easily overlooked the minor inconvenience.

Alongside the starting area were some tents for runners to temporarily seek refuge from the wet conditions, keep warm, and pass the time.  One was set up with some tables where volunteers handed out wrist bands, one that said “I run for Boston,” and another that said “Boston Run Now 4.15.13.”  I grabbed one of each, and headed to a curb to shed a couple layers.  Another runner approached me and claimed he had met me at a previous ultra running event (One of which I had never run!)  I went along with it and struck up some casual conversation.  Shortly thereafter; a radio reporter (Cannot remember from which station) approached us and asked if we’d be interested in an interview.  We both nodded in agreement.  It was an honor to voice my thoughts on the race and the impact of the recent events in Boston.  I observed a runner being interview by Richard Piatt from KSL Channel 5. I couldn’t help but notice the runner’s single prosthetic leg.  It drew a close parallel to the many victims in Boston whom had lost limbs from the horrific bombing.  A sign of hope of moving forward was truly evident.  

In the final moments to the start, the race director called for a moment of silence and gave a few thoughts of the recent events. He then followed it up with the playing of Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.”  It has been used as an anthem song to Bostonians at Red Sox events.  Runners headed on to the course with the song fading behind us in the distance.

The first couple of miles were about finding a good rhythm, while avoiding being sucked into a pace beyond my overall goal.  I also had to ease into the race, as my bodily systems are a little slow in warming up and the perceived effort/actual effort correlation can be difficult to judge.  The rainy conditions appeared to be in my favor, and I knew the temperature would be just right.

Somewhere between miles 3 and 4, I found myself running with the 3:05 pace group, being led by a guy from Boulder Colorado.  It was relatively small, but lively with around 6-7 runners.   I decided to latch on and see how their speed felt.  If my respiration soared, I would fall back and work into my own groove.  My last Salt Lake City Marathon in 2011, yielded me with a finish time of 3:13:50, and I really didn’t know what my current level of fitness, and the day’s variables would bring.  I found the first 6 miles slightly challenging, as I was a little sluggish, and had some doubt on my energy reserves.  A majority of the course from miles 4-17 are on streets I run regularly in my weekly training, and mile 15 is only about a half mile from my house.  It was nice running in familiar territory.

I briefly chatted with an individual named Pete Peterson around mile 9, that I had made acquaintance with over the years in other running events.  He is one of the very few to be on the Salt Lake City Marathon 10 year alumni.  It turned out that he was using this race as a speed session of sorts prior to a 100 mile race out on the salt flats the following weekend.

I fell back from the 3:05 group, but had them in my sights and kind of yo-yoed until an aid station just before mile 14.  At this point, I watched the pacer’s balloon disappear into one of the port-o-potties.  I pulled into one myself, as I had maintained a little more than adequate hydration.  When I continued on, the pacer was nowhere to be seen.  About a half mile down the course, he pulled up alongside me.  I tried to strike up a little conversation, but found that he was not the talkative person he had been a few miles earlier.  He just wanted to maintain an even effort, and make up for a 30 second deficit.  I stayed with the pacer until mile 19, which had now become a pacing group of 2.

In an out and back section between 19 and 20, I could see the 3:05 pacer, and 3:10 pacer were a mere few seconds apart.  I really started to wonder if this guy from Colorado was struggling in his pacing duties.  My legs, respiration, and energy levels were still feeling fresh, so I made the choice to give the final miles the best push I had in me.  I saw my sister at mile 20, which became great moral support and a quick dose of energy.  A spectator then yelled out:  “You’re in 20^th place!” 

The final 10k was relatively uneventful, other than catching up with some half marathoners around mile 24, where the courses converged. It was a good feeling to pass runners that were tackling half the overall distance.  I had noticed early in the race that my Garmin was reading a slightly higher distance than the course markers, and that distance discrepancy grew as the race wore on.  By the time I hit mile 25, I was getting a reading of about .25 more.  I had to make sure that I maintained my speed, or even a little more, to see a finish of sub 3:05.

I hit the south end of Liberty Park, and was pleased to see Melissa waiting there and cheering me on.  After a quick right, then left, the finish line was straight ahead.  I made for a final sprint and crossed the line.  My final time was 3:04:10.  I had shaved off 9:40, but cannot make a direct comparison as the course had some significant changes from last time.  The race was a ton of fun, went beyond my expectations, and was a great way to roll in my 50th marathon.  It was a positive gauge to where my current level of fitness resides, and a nod to some potential pr’s in some races this year. 

Melissa and I stayed at the finish line for just over the next hour to watch other runners come through.  We mainly had the curiosity of seeing how the event would commemorate the clock time of 4:09:43, which is when the first bomb went off at the Boston Marathon.  It ended up being a moment of silence, which was surreal at the finish line of a marathon, the playing of “Sweet Caroline,” and a group of runners strategically finishing the race at that time, all wearing Boston Marathon clothing.

It is tragic that the acts of a few can create sadness and despair in the hearts of many, and in a matter of seconds.  It is however, reassuring that communities of people can come together, celebrate common bonds, find strength, and see that we will continue to live to run and run to live!

The last couple years at Ogden have been less than stellar for me.  In 2011, I believe it was just simple under training, and for 2012, I was returning to running from a pelvic fracture.  I arrived at the starting line this morning looking for redemption.  

Melissa and I arrived at the packet pickup, did the usual scouring of vendors at the expo, and headed to our hotel.  I figured we’d relax and prepare for the early morning awakening.  Unfortunately, this is not exactly as things turned out.   Our hotel was a run down, mess of a shanty that appeared to be a frequent of transients and meth addicts.   I walked into the front office and had an instant sinking feeling about this place that had appeared respectable on their website months ago.   A simple mistake of overlooking the online comments and rating will not happen again!

I managed a mere couple hours of sleep, as the bed was no more comfortable than sleeping on the floor, the front door did not seal tightly and let the noise of falling rain and passing traffic in.  There were also sounds of slamming doors, pounding feet, and raised voices permeating the walls and ceiling.  A final blow was the presence of only a half used roll of tp in the bathroom!  I have never been so anxious to be out the door and aboard a shuttle bus.

The ride to the start was uneventful as I looked out the window at the falling rain during the early morning darkness.  Since I had been so eager to leave the hotel, I caught one of the first busses and would therefore have more time spent in the soggy conditions at the start line. Two hours spent meandering around a field could have been worse, as I instantly connected with friends and the time passed quicker than ever.

I had three goals for this race: 1. Shoot for sub-3 hour finish, 2. Under 3:05 finish, 3. Under 3:10 if the wheels fell off.  I wouldn’t have been devastated had I not accomplished one these, but I assumed my current fitness would at least yield the 3:10.

I felt better in the early miles than I had at the Salt Lake Marathon last month.  My warm up seemed smoother with my stride and breathing settling in with seemingly less effort.  I was enjoying the race, and even the rainfall right from the start.  I wondered if the faithful spectator around mile 7 had an alternate to the Beatles “Here Comes the Sun” given the weather conditions.  He most certainly did, and I appreciated the spectators and volunteers choice to support the runners even at the cost of getting soaked.

I struggled mentally and physically from around miles 10-15.  I was still feeling ok, but just hit a low point and just needed to put one foot in front of the other.   As I grew closer to the dam at Pineview Reservoir, I knew some of the best downhill miles were ahead, and so it was the shifting of gears I needed.  I then plodded down the canyon and kind of zoned out.

The last 5k, which is essentially just beyond the mouth of Ogden canyon, to the finish line felt decent, but I could clearly see that goal number one was out, and goal two was still plausible.  It appeared as a slog to the finish, but I was pleased to not experience a total crash.   My legs did cramp up very shortly beyond the finish line, and it was a slow hobble to retrieve my drop bag and back to the car.

My Garmin splits were:

1.  6:43

2.  6:54

3.  6:47

4.  6:29

5.  6:48

6.  6:51

7.  6:53

8.  6:43

9.  6:54

10.  6:58

11.  7:06

12.  7:05

13.  7:03

14.  7:12

15.  7:29

16.  7:01

17.  6:52

18.  6:55

19.  7:04

20.  7:00

21.  6:53

22. 6:56

23.  6:40

24.  6:54

25.  7:11

26.  7:20

.20   7:10 (3:19:56, read .46 mi.) 

On Friday evening, Melissa and I headed to Orem to meet up with a friend, Stefan that would be running the half.   We followed him down to the expo, picked up all the usual race schwag, and headed back to our vehicles.   As we went our separate ways, my suv didn’t want to start!  Fortunately, Stefan had some jumper cables.  The only problem was, Melissa and I could then head to our hotel for the night, but what would we do in the morning if we ran into the same problem?  I had a feeling it was just corrosion on the battery terminals that needed cleaning.  If it were the battery itself, I would have to head over to the auto parts store.  Either way, I hadn’t brought any tools with me.

Stefan graciously offered to meet Melissa and I at the hotel at 3:30 to give us another jump start and alleviate the pre-race stress of getting to the bus.  He even offered to meet after the race for one final jump to get us home post race.  What a nice guy!  I feel I owe him big time!

I bid Melissa farewell after parking and headed over to catch the bus to the start.  She’s been of wonderful support to me through the years.   She doesn’t hesitate to climb out of bed at early hours, slumber in the back of our suv, and then head over in wait of my finish.  I feel grateful that she allows me to pursue this sport I thoroughly enjoy.

 I peered out the window into the darkness and caught outlines of the mountains cast against a starry sky.  I could see the big dipper for several miles of the ride.   It’s always interesting to listen in to conversations of other runners and to hear their anxiousness of the challenge lying ahead.  Nowhere else can you find that sort of energy at 4:00 in the morning!  

I just sort of milled around the start area with the hour and a half I had to burn.   I enjoy seeing some familiar faces and compared notes on how the each one’s race might enfold.  My friend, Layne Koldewyn had flown in from Lexington Kentucky on Friday after a business trip.  He has been so busy with all his work travels that he thought the marathon was next week.  To his surprise, he received an e-mail about prerace details for the following day.  He had recently been doing some speed work, and his legs were still recovering.   He’s a veteran of 25+ marathons, so I knew he’d fare well even if not achieving a pr for the day.

I have been chasing the idea of a sub 3 marathon for a while now, but my main motivation was to avoid a slow crawl to the finish along University Avenue.   Fading into oblivion is not how I enjoy finishing any race, but has been the case at the last couple Utah Valley’s.  I suppose I am still learning how to run the course.  I believe it to be the fast downhill burn until reaching Deer Creek, followed by the mid race rollers that zap a bit much of my reserves.  A lot of events are touted as “A fast downhill course.”  While this race does have an overall net loss, I have not found it as user friendly as many other courses.

Sometimes you just have to take a chance to see how your body will respond, and if the many variables and factors are in your favor, it can lead to positive results.  On the other hand, it could be the crossing over to a major crash late in the race, with maddening consequences.  I know my level of fitness is greater this year than it has been in my last couple attempts, so with that in mind and a willingness to take a chance, I exited the start line and ready to see what the day would bring.

I felt decent in the first half, and had moments where the pace felt fairly effortless and fluid.  The best success I have had in this race was in 2010, where I ran very conservatively in the first half with a time of 1:37:57, and then ramped up in the second half for a time of 1:30:03, therefore realizing an overall time of 3:08:00.  This year I hit the half faster by 7:16, and was about to see if that had left me zapped. Maybe I’d be fortunate enough for a near equal split with having the major inclines completed, and a gentle decent along University Avenue.

I continued to feel my running was in sync until around mile 17, when keeping my pace began to feel a bit labored.  It was the start of having a good mile followed by a not so good mile.  I had to tell myself to keep it together and just focus on the few steps ahead.  I wasn’t really pleased to have a few runners begin to pass me.  I may have been doing the same at times, but those with a greater pace than I is what I noticed.  By mile 22, I felt like I was crawling and it was somewhat frustrating to have legs that wouldn’t respond.  I could see the race slipping away from me.

Just beyond mile 24, a couple women passed by and really seemed determined to finish with all they had.  It was a sort of epiphany for me, as I thought, “I’m just being weak and must dig deeper!”  The finish line arch was off in the distance, and I looked down at my Garmin and could see that a slightly sub 3:05 was still within reach.  I’d really have to work for it though.  At that point I really didn’t care about the discomfort I was feeling, and remembered the saying “Pain is only temporary, but results are permanent!”  Some might find it funny to think I was also pushing to get the freebie shirt for Boston qualifiers as well.  I wasn’t about to give that up in the final yards!  I ran Boston in 2010, and really don’t know if I’ll run it again, but that damn shirt is what mattered!   My final time was 3:04:41.  I had finished with 19 seconds to spare.

I met up with Melissa near the finish, went over to the Wasatch Running Center canopy to collect some schwag for Grand Slam runners, and then plopped down on the grass for some recovery time.  We were later joined by Layne, Daren and his wife Jennifer.  They had all had a good race experience.  Layne chauffeured Melissa and I back to our suv and gave us a jump start to get us on the road back home.  As we started out of the parking lot, I had the urge to puke.  I quickly flew open the door and let it all go on the ground.  I used to have this problem in my early marathons where I would over hydrate and it would catch up to me post race.   This served as friendly little reminder to watch my fluid intake a little more closely at aid stations!   

Upon arriving home, it turned out that dirty terminals and cable ends are what had given us fits and therefore necessitated the need for jump starts.  It took less than five minutes to remedy with my tools at home. 

My Garmin splits were:

1^st. half: 1:30:41, 6:55/Mi. 2^nd. Half: 1:33:59 7:10/Mi.)

1.  6:40    2.  6:44    3.  6:34    4.  6:36    5.  6:38                 

6.  6:52    7.  6:49    8.  7:21    9.  7:09    10.  6:40                

11. 6:44   12. 6:59   13.  6:47  14.  7:24   15.  6:50               

16. 6:57  17.  7:11  18.  6:55  19.  6:49    20. 7:02               

21.  7:03  22.  7:22   23.  7:23  24.  8:17   25. 7:34               

26.  7:00  .20.  6:30 (Read .39, 2:30)

I give in easily to Melissa’s requests for a vacation when she searches out running events near the destinations of her choice.   It’s really not a bad thing I suppose, as we mutually benefit in the travels.  I had never been to Alaska and it posed a great opportunity for not only the race, but much needed days away from work and home.

My father –in –law is in Alaska all summer to help out some family members at their gold mine.  He has been working some long days in getting everything up and running so they can have a successful season.  Melissa and my arrival gave him a good excuse to take a break, do some visiting and sightseeing.   We flew into Anchorage and he met us at the airport.  He had to drive for nearly 9 hours, as the mine is several hundred miles away, but he was more than happy to do so.

We headed to our hotel, checked in and then went for dinner.  It was nice to catch up on Frank’s arrival in early spring and all the challenges faced with his trekking into the deep woods with several feet of snow to trudge through.  The mining claim is hours away from the nearest town, and that is in good weather.  After dinner, it was time to relax back in our room and get ready for the days ahead.  We had to draw the curtains tightly for sleep, as there is no real darkness in summer in Alaska.

The race expo was held at the downtown Sheraton, which is where I would also catch a bus to the start the next morning.  I did all the usual stuff, with picking up my bib, a few schwag items and briefly looked over the half a dozen or so vendors.   It was small and simple, which is the way I prefer an expo.  The three of us then headed out to check out some sights close to Anchorage.

Our first stop was Earthquake Park, which is along a coastal trail and small airfield. The basic gist is that it commemorates the destruction of a 9.4 tremor from March of 1964.  I snapped a few photos of some descriptive signs, but we quickly retreated back to the truck as there were ruthless swarms of mosquitoes.  I have never encountered them as dense and bitingly furious before!  Our next stop was a small port town called Whittier.  The only access is through a 2.5 mile tunnel through a mountain, or by sea.  We then headed back to Anchorage and attended a summer solstice festival with a large array of merchandise and food vendors. 

The pre-race pasta feed was held at a restaurant in the Sheraton, to the cost of $25 per person.  Being that our vacation had just begun, we opted for a cheaper option, and headed to the Golden Corral.  This was a first for a pasta feed!  It was sufficient and was within walking distance of our hotel.

On race morning, I caught a bus for the start and rode a short distance of maybe 10 miles to Bartlett High School.  The bus was only half full and we were some of the first to arrive.  Most of the other participants seemed to arrive with around a half hour before the start, and I can assume they were locals who knew where to park or caught a ride with friends or family.  Waiting for the start gun to go off passed quickly as I drew up conversation with a guy from Los Angeles, watched the “Marathon Maniacs” have their photos  taken, and then a military flag ceremony followed by the Alaska state song and the National Anthem.

The race headed out to a paved pathway which followed alongside a main highway for about three miles.  It was rolling, as would be the case of the entire course.  We then crossed over to a secondary roadway from about miles 4-7.  I was feeling decent, and just ran by feel rather than time or specific pace.  Relay runners were hanging out at an aid station which also doubled as the first exchange point.  We turned onto a dirt road and then a single path trail through the forest.  The pack of runners had really started to spread out, but I maintained some leapfrogging with 4 or 5 other runners through mile 14.  One such runner was singing out loud to his headphones and seemed confident in his pacing capabilities.  It provided me some entertainment to see someone so theatrical and expending such an excess of energy.  I later found out that he fell short of his time goal by over a half hour!

Once the leapfrogging had ended, I ran mostly solitary for the next 5 or so miles as we headed back on to some paved roads and then to paved pedestrian and cyclist trails. The first place female runner was in my sights around mile 20 and I briefly passed her just before the 21 mile aid station.  She flew by me as I slowed for a cup of water.  I then lacked the speed and energy to once again overtake her.  I did however, latch on and kept her in my sights.  I had no doubt her position in the field of other females as spectators called out “Anna” and shouted encouragement.  She was definitely a local celebrity. 

The last 10k was somewhat difficult as I felt myself fading out and struggled to maintain my pace while perceived effort increased.  I was definitely bonking.  By mile 25, it seemed like I was crawling, yet I reeled in Anna and passed her by.  The course played a cruel joke in the last half mile with a couple uphill stretches which really tanked my energy.  It was encouraging though to pass many half marathoners that had resorted to speed walking.

The finish was in an area called Delaney Park Strip, which is within downtown Anchorage.  Melissa and Frank were there to greet me, as well as a friend of my mom’s who had driven from a nearby town.  My finishing time was 3:08:37, which is within 4 minutes of my other 3 marathons I’ve run this year.  I suppose I am fairly consistent with this margin. Surprisingly, I managed to pull off a 3rd. place finish in my age division, so I brought home a nice medal for that.

After the race, Melissa, Frank and I spent the night in Anchorage and then headed north to Fairbanks for a couple days.  There were a few sights along the way, such as Hatcher Pass with Independence mine, Denali National Park, and Mt. Mckinley. We met up with some relatives who did an awesome job as tour guides. They showed us some old mining properties, a section of the Alyeska Oil Pipeline, an antique auto museum, and a town park with a Salmon bake dinner.  I was able to do an out and back 7 mile run one of the evenings.

From Fairbanks, we headed to North Pole Alaska, which has a Santa Claus house, and street light posts throughout the town are striped and shaped as candy canes.   It was kind of unusual to see the spirit of Christmas in June!  Our next stop was at the gold mine for a few days of atv riding and relaxing at their camp.  Melissa and I slept in an old school bus equipped with a queen bed, a stove, and a sofa.  It made me think of the movie “Into the Wild, “which is based upon a true story of a college graduate that headed into the wilderness of Alaska to escape society and took shelter in an abandoned bus he came upon.  We then headed across the Canadian border for a day excursion to a small town in the Yukon called Dawson.  Travelers from the road we took have to drive onto a ferry to cross a river to get there.   The town was once home to Jack London, the author of “White Fang, and “Call of the Wild.”  It has also recently served as a base for gold miners featured in the Discovery Channel’s show “Gold Rush.”

Frank drove Melissa and I back to the mining camp for one final night, and then graciously drove us 8 more hours to Anchorage the next morning.  We checked into our hotel and had one final dinner together.  I headed out for an impromptu run which put me on a coastal shoreline trail for an out and back of 10 miles.  It was nice to stretch my legs and to see the Anchorage skyline from afar.  Frank headed back to the mine in the morning, where he will be until October.  I felt somewhat guilty when we said our goodbyes for his solo drive back.  That was another 8 hours driving for him!  Melissa and I spent the day meandering through gift shops and then waited at the airport for our 12:55 a.m. flight back home.

I had an incredible experience being in Alaska and appreciate the opportunity given by Melissa’s relatives.  A few months ago, I had no idea I would be traveling there and would be able to run the marathon as a bonus.  It is a beautiful place to visit and definitely a national treasure.

My race split times were:

 1^st. half: 1:31:38, 2^nd. Half: 1:36:59

1.   7:02

2.  7:03

3.  6:58

4.  6:57

5.  6:37

6.  6:50

7.  7:13

8.  6:32

9.  6:47

10.  6:57

11.  7:22

12.  6:53

13.  7:15

14.  7:52

15.  6:55

16.  7:03

17.  7:02

18.  6:54

19.  6:55

20.  7:08

21.  7:18

22.  7:27

23.  7:30

24.  7:46

25.  7:38

26.  7:42

.20 3:03 (7:14/mi., read ..42)

This race has become an annual tradition, with my first running in 2007, and having run in it ever since.  It’s a good opportunity to push the pace, as most of my events are marathon distance or longer.  A benefit as I see it, is that the course is not an all downhill profile like many of the other Utah races.  Most start out up some canyon and send runners shooting downward to the finish.  Don’t get me wrong; I do enjoy downhill aided courses, but I also need to mix things up as well.

I hit the start line with the anticipation of clocking a better time than past years.  I really didn’t know how significant it could be, by a matter of seconds, or maybe a couple minutes if everything fell into place.  I have seen an improvement in my fitness this year as I have changed my training and eating habits.  I am a constantly evolving experiment in how to train, and work of nutritional refinement in progress.

The race began, and group of ten runners formed the lead.  I was at the back of this group, and felt that I had a chance to reel in a couple within close proximity.  I’d just keep them in my sights and see how things unfolded, and would eventually make my move.  The pacing felt labored, but sustainable.  I hit 5k around 20:00 flat, and then shortly thereafter, a bearded and shirtless runner flew past.  He appeared effortless, and quickly overtook the two runners slightly ahead of me.  I was running my own race, and my previous times, so that was not all too discouraging.   Mile 5 came just over 32:00 and most of the lead runners had spread out and beyond my line of sight.  I glanced back upon leaving the aid station, and could see at least a ¼ mile gap between myself and the closest runner.  That gave me some relief from the immediate chance of being overtaken.   Just prior to the mile 7 aid station, I was able to overtake a runner that had been in my sights the whole time.  He seemed to be falling off pace, and that would be the case for me in the miles to come as well.  The course has a couple highway overpasses and slight inclines until mile 10, which always bog me down.  At the base of the last of these inclines, I reeled in a runner in a white tank top that had been no more than a 10^th of a mile away the entire race.  I figured I would take it easy up the hill, let him toe the line, and then I’d overtake him.  Ultimately, that’s not how it panned out.   He had more stamina than I anticipated and pulled ahead, but stayed in my sights.  I knew then that he had me, and I lacked the leg power to surge ahead.

Around mile 11, I looked back and saw the runner I had overtaken near mile 7.  He appeared to be closing in and I wasn’t too thrilled about that.  I began to prepare for an acknowledgement of his ability in making a good comeback, and to wish him well for his last couple miles.  I could hear labored breathing and pounding footfalls behind me, and assumed the overtaking would take place on a half mile downward stretch of Main Street.   To my surprise, he never passed and actually fell back.  I continued with the push I had left in my legs, and headed to the finish line.  Another runner came out of nowhere, with only a ¼ mile left, and all I could do was watch as he pulled away, rounded the corner, and left my sight to the finish.  I have done that to other runners when given the opportunity, so it was my turn to be paid back! 

My time was 1:26:56, an improvement of: 40 from last year, and a new pr for the course.  I had done what I set out to do, and received a nice 2^nd place age group award in the process.  I hope to continue in making personal forward improvements and I use race experiences like this one to act as a measurement of my progress.

My Garmin splits were:

1.  6:36     2.  6:14     3.  6:15   4.  6:37    5.  6:24                 

6.  6:30     7.  6:44     8.  6:58   9.  6:48   10.  7:25               

11.  6:41  12.  7:09   13.  6:28  14.  0:12 (6:01, read  .03/mi.)

I figured I would run by feel today rather than getting caught up in looking at splits.  At the same time, I wanted my approach to be a little more aggressive than previous tries at this event, and to see how my conditioning stacked up.  My training has been consistent, but different than prior years.  I was doing too much speed work and not enough sheer running for the sake of just running.  It would leave me sore and worn down on race day.  The overall change has led to a fresher feeling at the start line and throughout races this year.   I do have some work ahead of me in figuring out how to improve my leg turn over.  I feel like this is a limiting factor, as I have now run 5 marathons this year, all in the range of 3:03-3:08.  I enjoy being consistent, but my legs seem to be red lining and are preventing my time from dropping further.

I arrived at the start and chatted with a runner from Henderson Nevada who felt confident in running somewhere in the 2:50’s today.  His marathon pr was around 3:06, but he insisted that his training has been indicative of easily running a sub 3hr finish.  I saw him on the course until around mile 6, but then nowhere after that.  He ultimately finished with a 4:09!  I am left with some curiosity of what kind of major blowup he had with his race today!  Marathons can deal a dose of reality to those overzealous in their perceived capabilities.

This was my seventh installment of Des News, and I really look forward to it each year.  The course is not all downhill as many other Utah marathons are, and for that matter, it seems to give my leg muscles a good all around workout.   I enjoy East and Emigration Canyons, and the ease of logistics in getting to and from the event from where I live.

I felt decent today, but probably slowed down a little more than I would have preferred in the last 10K.  Fortunately, the course is mostly downhill from that point on, with the exception of 900 S.  I had a runner pass me in the last 5k, which between that, and the small section of parade route, gave me something to cling to in keeping my legs moving.   There was a slight chance of finishing below 3:05, and when I crossed the finish line; my official time was 3:04:56.   I had cut it close!   This is a course pr of 5:04, so hopefully I can come back next year and improve upon that.

My Garmin splits were:

1^st. half: 1:30:52, 2^nd half: 1:34:04

1. 6:14 2. 6:18 3. 6:28 4. 6:49 5. 6:45 6. 7:13

7. 7:46 8. 7:22 9. 7:05 10. 6:50 11. 6:50 12. 6:52

13. 6:48 14. 6:53 15. 6:49 16. 7:08 17. 6:52 18. 7:14

19. 7:05 20. 7:12 21. 7:42 22. 7:06 23. 7:14 24. 7:21

25. 6:56 26. 7:09 27. (.20, read .46, 6:46/mi.)

This was my inaugural marathon in 2006, so it holds a special place for me and I have run it every year since.  It’s one of the more challenging Utah courses to run as it has a general elevation increase from the start until mile 16.  My legs are well worked over by the time the course starts its descent, and so even though a negative split would seem feasible; it has never been the case for me.  I lack the energy to force an increased pace and typically drag along the last 10 miles.

Melissa and I drove up to Newpark in her 1967 Ford Mustang that my father and I finished restoring last summer.  A car show is held within close walking distance of the start and finish line of the race, so it’s a perfect opportunity to participate in two events on the same day.  I bid her farewell after parking the car and headed over to the start area. It was time for her to prepare for the show, and for me to pick up my bib & schwag and to get ready to race.

I was able to converse with a few friends and met a runner from the UK, named Chris.  He had the look of an elite and I wished him well in dominating the field.  (He ended up finishing 2^nd place.)  This was to be his first marathon in the U.S. and he just looked at it as a casual part of his ‘holiday’ here.  In the last moments before the race began, it was clear to see that most of the runners, I would dare say, 90 percent, appeared to have never run the race before.  An announcer on a bullhorn had to direct the crowd in the proper position to the starting arch.  I could see that there were fewer participants than prior years, and a friend claimed to have heard the field was less than 300.  I hope this marathon doesn’t quietly die off in years to come from lack of attendees.

The race began a few minutes late, as a vendor truck had parked directly in our path.  It actually worked in my favor though as it gave me time to reset the display options on my Garmin.  I last used it on a hike up Timpanogos and had changed the settings.  I swapped elevation for pace, and time of day for elapsed time. 

I headed into the race opting to go by feel rather than a notion of pace or splits to adhere to.   Based on how my energy exertion felt, I’d make adjustments along the way.  My main unit of measurement is respiration.  I know it goes hand-in-hand with heart rate.  It tells me how deeply I am dipping into my glycogen stores.  The goal is to pace conservatively enough to have a strong kick in the final miles, but not too much left in the bank upon finishing.

My pacing felt good and maintainable for the most part of the first half, with a moment here and there with a momentary slog.  It was mostly along the trail section of the old railroad bed that seemed to go on and on, but I let my mind kind of wander and take in the sights around me as well.  I observed a small stream, the distant traffic of I-40, and a couple of hot air balloons beginning to take flight.  There was also a runner with a blue shirt averaging a similar pace to mine that I tried to reel in.  I saw this same shirt for most of the race and while the gap would vary slightly, I never did overtake him.  He ended up finishing 27 seconds ahead of me.

From the half, until the turn around at mile 16 at Deer Valley, the course has its greatest increase in elevation.  I really look forward to having these miles over with.  I saw Fritz, who would be the winner, around mile 15 in a section where runners get to see who’s ahead and behind them.  I continued on to 16, and began charging downhill while glancing across a parking area to see the roadway I had just ascended.  My curiosity was to see how far the nearest runner was behind me.  To my surprise, there was no one in sight.  The gap had to be at least a quarter mile, so I was kind of running an empty stretch on my own. 

I plodded down to the intersection where runners heading up, and down cross paths.  It was a steady stream of runners passing by, and shouts of encouragement flew during that stretch.  I was happy to have finished their challenging climb. The course passes by some store fronts and across a pedestrian bridge over the Park City Main Street.  Shortly thereafter, there is a short stretch of very steep uphill.   I had caught up to a runner in a bright yellow and white shirt at this point.   I am inclined to climb, not run here.  The runner ahead of me pushed with some precious energy upward.  I had a pretty good idea that my slow and steady push was more efficient, and I’d pass him just beyond the top.  That ended up being the case.

I continued onward and downhill and it was nice to give the climbing muscles a break.  At an aid station around mile 18ish, I caught sight of the first place female pulling out of a p.o.p.  That break had allowed me to catch up to her, and she ran slightly ahead of me as we meandered through a neighborhood alongside a golf course.  At the next aid station, around mile 20, she pulled into another p.o.p. and I passed by.  I felt some sympathy as she must have been having some issues holding her back.    My energy levels were holding steady, and I was pleasantly surprised how good I felt going into the last 10k.

I took nothing for granted and really enjoyed having some fuel still left in the tank.  It was a nice contrast to other years on the course’s final miles and just wanting the struggle over with.  I passed many half marathoners in the remaining couple of miles, and that is a mental boost to see people walking while I felt great running.  It’s not often I want to keep running beyond the finish line!

Melissa was at the finish to greet me, as well as my parents, who had walked over from the car show.  I enjoyed their support as I crossed the line.  As I said earlier, I ran on feel and other than glancing at my Garmin to see my half split (it was around 1:33). I was blind to the overall lapsed time until seeing the clock at the finish line.   It was a pleasant surprise as I had pr’d for the course by almost 13 minutes.  With the chip time, I had shaved off 12:43 from my best time on the course from 2010.

 My Garmin splits were:

1.  7:02  2.  7:07  3.  7:14  4.  6:48  5.  6:52

6.  7:15  7.  7:16  8.  7:10  9.  7:00  10. 7:01

11.  7:17  12.  7:09  13.  7:11  14.  7:42 15.  7:59

16.  7:50  17.  7:00  18.  7:57  19.  7:07  20.  7:12

21.  6:57  22.  7:22  23.  7:14  24.  7:07  25.  7:30

26.  6:58  Last .20, not measured as GPS read short. 

Details to come as the post-race fog lifts!

Here's the race report:

This year’s Wasatch 100 began with my alarm going off at 2:45 a.m., so I could get up and get ready and make the drive to downtown Salt Lake to catch a bus.  I consumed half a banana, some oats, and a bottle of Ensure.  Those would be enough calories, and of the right kind, to prime my system without the risk of an upset stomach in the early miles.  Melissa and I made it up to 600 S. by 3:45, so I had some time to settle on the bus before it departed at 4:00.

The ride to Kaysville was quiet and uneventful.  I just kicked back in the seat and tuned in to the conversations around me.    We arrived near the start around 4:40, which only gave us 20 minutes to hit the restrooms and for lining up to began our journey.  I had the need to clear out my system, so I joined the line of runners in wait of an open port-o-potty.  I checked my watch regularly, and saw the time winding down ever so close to 5 a.m.  I finally had my turn at just a couple minutes to go, and could hear the race director making time announcements.   As the final 10 second countdown commenced, I found myself finishing my business and hurriedly approaching the back of the pack.

While arriving at the back of a pack of runners in a 100 mile race might not seem a big deal, I had not envisioned myself in that position.  I had wanted to start at least in the middle of the pack, because the first 10 or so miles is on single track trail.  Starting at the rear would define the need to make strategic passes whenever possible, and to make up for lost time later on.  I did manage to pass a few runners along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, but as we hit a junction and started heading east and at an ascent, I just had to remain patient.  I went with the flow, and just plugged away at a very casual pace.

Around 8.8 miles, as we gained closer to a climb called ‘Chinscraper,’ we arrived at Cool Spring, which also doubled as an unofficial aid station numbered ‘0.’  I took the opportunity to top off my pack bottles, down a few peanut M&M’s, and some orange drink the volunteers had provided.  I really should have continued onward and waited until the Grobben’s Corner Aid Station, at mile 13.1 for some fluids.  The effort I had expended to move up a few positions was eclipsed by runners passing me by and so I’d now have to settle back into a slower than hoped for pace.

The climb up Chinscraper was much less daunting to me as it had been last year.  I remember looking up at the rock face and thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”  It was like “What else is this race going to throw at me in the next 90 miles?!”  I steadily made it over the top, and to the greeting of a gentleman with a smile on his face and cowbell in his hand.  It was great to have this land feature cleared, and I took advantage of the stretches I could do some mild running.

Runners continued along some more single track, but then it gave way to a narrow dirt roadway.  It was nice to proceed at my own pace, as the course opened up.  I reached Grobben’s Corner shortly thereafter, and had my bottles topped off.  I was able to get in some decent running from here until the Francis Peak Aid Station, at mile 18.4, as it was an overall descent along an even wider dirt roadway.

I had a loose time goal of finishing the race under 30 hours.  I brought a couple split charts along with me based on ideal pacing per the mileage and topography of sections between aid stations.  The first goal would have me at Francis somewhere between 9:30-10:00 a.m.  My actual time in was at 10:10, and a time out of 10:19.  Although I was over the latter of the time goals, I wasn’t too worried.  If I had some good stretches, that time could have been easily made up.  Two parts of meeting my sub-30 goal were to run a more of the flats and declines than last year, and secondly, to get in and out of aid stations rapidly.

I changed my socks, topped off my bottles, ate some potatoes and fruit, and grabbed a couple new bottles of Ensure, and a bag of S-Caps at Francis.  I tied a soaked bandana around my neck to aid with cooling.   I also headed out of sight from others to water some foliage.  It was good to see that my hydration was in check!   I was out in 9 minutes, whereas 11 minutes last year.  Not a big improvement, but an improvement nonetheless!

The next stretch to the Bountiful B Aid Station (mile 23.8) was uneventful.  At a short distance of just 5.4 miles, I just worked away the miles.  The next section, heading to the Session Liftoff Aid Station is not much further at 5.6 miles, but is not one of my favorites.  The trail meanders in many directions, is quite steep at times, and it was starting to get warm.  I could swear there were a few false summits as well.  There are a few stream crossings of which I was able to soak my hat and bandana in.  At Sessions, I was greeted by a friend, Todd Galbraith, whom had worked the same station last year.  He was like all the other volunteers I encountered throughout the race, as he was attentive to my every need.  He topped off my bottles; I grabbed some potatoes, a popsicle and banana pieces and was on my way in 3 minutes.

I could definitely feel the heat as I headed along the exposed sections heading into the Swallow Rocks Aid Station area.  It didn’t really bother me though as I had maintained my hydration, and my bandana and hat combination kept me relatively cool.  A few runners looked like they weren’t fairing too well however, as I made an ascent and passed them by.  I was grateful to not be troubled as they had appeared.  I found out later on that one of them DNF’d at Big Mountain.   A male runner fully adorned in pink and wearing a tutu made a few of the miles during this stretch interesting.  This was a person exhibiting the toughness to run 100 miles, but had the comic relief to show a softer side!

Just prior to Swallow Rocks, I texted Melissa that I would be about an hour from arriving at Big Mountain.  She was then able to coordinate with my first pacer and my parents their arrival for a rendezvous.  At Swallow Rocks (mile 34.6), I had another popsicle, and the volunteers topped off my bottles.  I had a 17 ounce collapsible water bottle pouch stowed away in my shorts pocket that came out for the first time.  I filled it and sipped it down over the next mile or so.  With the day’s heat still rising, I figured it would be good supplemental hydration to the bottles in my waist pack.  The volunteers were from the Cottonwood Canyons Foundation.  I became acquainted with them back in June when I fulfilled my service work as a requirement for entrance to the race.  I am grateful for all they do behind the scenes that allows outdoor adventurists to enjoy excursions to the trails.

Big Mountain (mile 39.1) was a welcome sight as it was the first time I would see my wife and parents, and I would also have my first pacer.  My goal time was somewhere between 2:40 and 4:30.   I arrived at 3:39 p.m., so I felt assured and hopeful and wasn’t worried about making up any time.  As the first weigh in of the day, I hoped my fluid intake to perspiration ratio had been adequate.  I came in at only 3 pounds low, so that was of little concern.  My parents grabbed my bottles to top off while I cleaned up and body glided my feet, changed my socks, (I had some cramping up as I pulled my feet towards me, that came as a surprise) grabbed two new bottles of Ensure, some more S-caps, and an extra water bottle.   I had run out of water during this stretch last year, and did not want a repeat.  After 17 minutes, my first pacer, Dr. Mike Killpack (whom is also my primary care physician) and I headed onto the trails.

I enjoyed having some company with me, and it was great to have the mental diversion.   I was still feeling fresh and had really enjoyed being part of the race so far.  Mike maintained a fairly casual pace and I just kind of kept behind him and loped along.   I had a craving come upon me for some watermelon as we gained close proximity to the Alexander Ridge Aid Station (mile 46.9).  When we arrived there, I was lucky enough that they had some, and it was delicious!  Mike said it was the best tasting watermelon he’d ever had!  It’s amazing what running will do in unlocking the taste buds.

A stretch from the aid station, which sends runners eastward along an undulating and grassy service road, left a lot to be desired.  It really seemed to go on and on wasn’t very stimulating.  Some dust clouds had moved in, and we could pick up the scent of the Great Salt Lake.  This was one of many places where I was glad to have a pacer.   We finally made a turn and into some single track of Scrub Oak, and occasionally swampy areas.  It was a nice descent to the west and towards the Lambs Canyon Aid Station.   I passed by an acquaintance whom had rolled his ankle and was in very low spirits.  I felt bad knowing that his race was to end just beyond the half way point.

The Lambs Canyon Aid Station (mile 52.5) felt like a big party.  Mike and I arrived to some of his family, Melissa, my parents, my mom’s friend Becky, and my second pacer.  It was exciting to have a cheering section and to know I was more than halfway done.  I enjoyed seeing this aid station in daylight, as the sun had already set upon my arrival there last year.  I weighed in at a loss of 7 pounds down from starting weight, which is exactly as had occurred last year.  I spent 20 minutes doing what had become routine, in changing socks, more bottles of Ensure, S-Caps, and topped off bottles.  I also changed my hat, and grabbed my Petzl headlamp.  My friend Stefan Wells was to pace me until Brighton.

We had some great conversations as we headed up the paved roadway through Lambs Canyon and onto the mountain trails.  I enjoyed the distraction, but yearned to conserve my respiration as we made our climb to Bear Ass Pass.  I kind of went through a low point where fatigue began to set in and I became short of breath.  I downed 800mg of ibuprofen, also known to some as ‘Vitamin I.’  I let Stefan do most of the talking and I resorted to one word responses. The sun had set and we were running by headlamp and flashlights.  Once we began to drop down to the roadway in Milcreek Canyon, I started to feel some rejuvenation.  We stopped for me to take a quick break at an outhouse, and then we began our ascent on the paved roadway towards the Upper Big Water Aid station.  A female runner, I would gauge in her 50’s, was coming towards us.  It came out that someone had given her some wrong information and she thought she had gone too far along the roadway.  I assured her to turn back around and head up the road. Stefan was quite the socialite and engaged in conversation with her most of the way as we made our roughly 3 mile speed walk on the asphalt.  I was in good spirits, but once again, lacked the desire to expend energy in conversation. 
 

I was delighted to see the Upper Big Water Aid Station (mile 61.5).  Stefan and I arrived at 10:38 p.m., which was towards the tail end of my goal between 9:18 and 11:00 p.m.  Aside from my usual aid station routines, I slipped into an outhouse to address potential chafing issues.  I had become acquainted with a product called Brave Soldier at Wasatch last year, when I had some very uncomfortable skin to skin contact that had flared up.  A generous runner handed me some from his pack, and I never again had issues.  I wanted to be proactive this year, and it ultimately paid off.   After 13 minutes, Stefan and I headed back to the course.

I really don’t know why, but I had a complete turnaround in my state of being upon leaving Upper Big Water.  I was rejuvenated, and felt great.  It really astonished me how good I felt and with the cool of the night setting in, I took advantage of it.  I picked up the pace and began running any run able section I could find.  We came upon a group of runners hanging out on the trail, and one of them complimented me on my shoes.  It turned out that they were there in support of one of the founders of Altra shoes, Brian Beckstead, who was having a rough time on the course.  He had been on pace for a 24 hour finish, but then started into a downward spiral. I shook his hand and thanked him for his work with the shoe brand.  I continued on, and Stefan dug deep with me, but couldn’t keep up.  I felt guilty leaving him behind, but he assured me that he’d find his way and didn’t want to slow me down.  I thanked him for being part of the event and for being so selfless.  We then parted ways.

I made my way to the Desolation Lake Aid Station (mile 66), gulped down some Coke and a packet of Gu Rocktaine, then continued on.  Less than a mile later, I was on Red Lovers Ridge, and could see the lights from the Canyons Resort and Snyderville.  There was very little wind and the temperature was just right.  I was really feeling good and was able to pass many runners as I traversed the trails into the Scott’s Peak Aid Station (mile 69.9).  This was only a 2 minute stop, where I gulped down a couple cups of Mountain Dew, aka, the Ultrarunner’s Elixir. I texted Melissa so she and my parents would have time to drive up and see me at the Brighton Lodge.   I remember feeling fairly trashed and fatigued by this point last year, and my then pacer, Larry Scott kept tugging at me to pick it up a bit.  All I could really do was a brisk walk/hobble at best.

From Scott’s to Brighton, I continued feeling energized and looked forward to meeting up with Melissa and my parents , and to have a pacer once again.  I steadily descended down the Great Western Trail and onto a couple or so miles of pavement.  The asphalt was actually a nice change as it gave my legs a steady surface to finish my way into Brighton.  It was invigorating see the lodge and to know that it was one ‘Morgue’ I would find my way out of!

At the Brighton Aid Station (mile 74.6) I really wanted to make it a quick stop, as last year it had cost me nearly an hour.  I arrived at 2:43 a.m., and my goal was somewhere between 2 and 3 a.m. The sub 30 goal still appeared within reach.  I weighed in at only 2 pounds down from my starting weight, so my constant hydration, coupled with the cooler nighttime temperature, brought my weight back up.  I drank some Coke, pieces of banana, and thwarted any future chafing.  My feet were beginning to have some hot spots, so I changed out my socks and applied some Vaseline in large quantities between my toes and on the balls of feet.

I headed out of Brighton after 18 minutes with my third and final pacer, Layne Koldewyn.  We climbed our way up to Catherine’s Pass and briefly chatted with a runner from Boise, Idaho that was completing Wasatch as the final leg in the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning.  Now that’s an accomplishment: 4 100 miler’s in a summer!   Layne and I chatted throughout the climb and it was refreshing having new company along for the journey.  We made it into the Ant Knolls Aid Station (mile 79.1) and spent a brief 4 minutes topping off our bottles and I ate some potatoes, and some watermelon.  Yeah, a weird combination, but it tasted good after nearly 24 hours of racing.

Somewhere between Ant Knolls and Pole Line Pass, the sun began to rise and the sight of Mt Timpanogos, as many runners would attest, was a sight to behold.  I enjoyed having daylight once again, but in no way, wanted to be out in any heat for a second day.  My right calf was really starting to cramp up and my feet were to the point of blistering in the former hot spots.  I was beginning to have a second low point of the race, but even lower than the prior evening.  Layne and I pulled into the Pole Line Aid Station (mile 82.3) at 5:51 a.m. My goal time was around 5-5:30 a.m., so the time was slipping away, and I now lacked the reserves to rally for that lost time.  I attempted to address my blistering feet.  I had neglected a change of socks in my drop bag, so I just cleaned my feet the best I could, and slipped my socks back on.  With topped off bottles, more bottles of Ensure, S-Caps, and nibbles of aid station food, Layne and I headed back out.  It had been a 10 minute stop.     

The trails just kind of came and went as we put the miles behind us.  I fell into a zone of getting it done, and nothing more.  I’m sure Layne could see my mental shift as my voice became monotone and non-engaging.   I paused momentarily to top off my bottles at the former Rock Springs Aid Station, (mile 86.3) and we continued on and through the not-so-fun sections of the Dive and the Plunge.  They were much worse than I remembered them being from last year.  They are gnarly and wicked, and that still holds true whether your legs have 87-88 miles on them or not!

We arrived at the Pot Bottom Aid Station (mile 92) and I took out for the second time, my collapsible bottle.  I had run out of water in the final miles last year, and did not want a repeat.  I sat down for a moment or two to get things in order in my pack and water bottles.  I could have just stayed there and had some apprehension in getting back out for the remaining miles.  The morning was starting to warm and my legs had lost any speed miles ago.  My feet felt like they were on hot coals with each step, and my right calf was really stiff.

  Layne was very encouraging and asked as we went the feasibility of my running or fast walking abilities.  I assured him that my legs were shot and that I really wanted to go faster to get the whole thing over with.  He had tons of patience, and seemed empathetic at my pathetic state of being.  He really helped me to hold my head up high and to continue plodding forward.  We arrived at the final aid station, Staton Cut-off, (mile 94.69) at 10:19 a.m., and only spent a minute there.  On a good day, with fresh legs, I could have easily run the final 5.31 miles in less than 41 minutes.  With trashed legs, it took me double that.  I had given in to the fact that a sub-30 finish was not to be, but I knew my time would still be a great improvement over last year.

We covered the rough dirt road from Staton at a snail’s pace, but once we made it to an improved dirt road above Soldier Hollow, the mental boost it gave me helped to reenergize my pace slightly.  I didn’t exactly enjoy having to drop down on some asphalt for a 2 mile horseshoe below Soldier Hollow, but at least I knew the end was near.  My finish time was 30:40:28, which was an improvement of 4:00:58 from last year.  I suppose that’s something to be grateful for. 

Melissa, my parents, sisters, and their families were at the finish cheering Layne and I on as we came across the line.  I was really flattered that they would take the time to come up on a Saturday morning to see the conclusion of my journey.  They stayed for some post-race photos, and to see how I felt about the race as a whole.  I laid down on a sleeping bag on the grass for a few hours, just to kill some time and because I was really hammered!  Melissa and I then headed over to the Zermatt so I could take a much needed shower, and to relax some more before the awards ceremony and dinner at 5:00.

We headed back to Soldier Hollow with ample time to get parked and lined up for the buffet –like dinner at the pavilion.  By this time, the weather had done a 180 turnaround from when I had finished, and it was now a downpour of rain.   The late finishing runners had been dealt not only the heat everyone else had experienced, but now they were getting soaked and muddy.   The rain continued through dinner and the awards were expedited to have everyone on their way.

With my belt buckle and plaque in hand, Melissa and I headed back to the Zermatt and crashed for the night.  That hotel bed felt wonderful!  The next morning was a real challenge to get up and head back home.  My legs had stiffened up and every step was a crippled challenge.  Melissa was awesome in providing herself as a crutch to drag myself along with my battered body.  I had a tremendous appetite, so we stopped in at the Hub Café in Heber before driving back to SLC.  There were many stares as I very gingerly made my way inside and to our seats.  I was wearing my Wasatch 100 race shirt with great pride, and hoped some of the gawkers would catch on to the nature of my disposition.

I cannot say for sure if I’ll find myself content with two finishes in the Mecca of “100 Miles of Heaven and Hell,” and time will only tell as my soreness fades, if I will take on the challenge in the future.  I had been quoted as saying “Never again!” upon completion of the event last year.  I suppose those with selective memories, such as myself, choose to remember only the grandeur of the accomplishment!

It has been a slow recovery from running the Wasatch 100 last month, and the longest run I have completed since then has been just over nine miles.  My right hamstring, knee and calf have been tight and sore.  I backed off my weekly mileage and have tread lightly with the fear of only aggravating the trouble areas further.  It was frustrating to have the desire to run, but doing very little.

I have had a decent year with consistent improvements in races I have participated in years prior.  I set my sights on continuing the trend with St. George, and had confidence of setting a new pr.  I once again, signed up for  the Wasatch Running Center’s Grand Slam, and had been doing well with the overall placement after having completed Ogden, Utah Valley, and Park City.  My focus over the past few weeks however, changed to taking things day-by-day, and gauging if I would even arrive at the St. George Marathon start line. 

Over the last week, I saw some improvements in my flexibility and a waning soreness.   With the desire to complete this race, the Grand Slam, and to check off another year towards reaching the 10 year status, (I still have 3 more to go) I accepted what would become of today’s event.

I arrived at the windy and slightly chilly start area with about 45 minutes until gun time.  I really didn’t have the desire to take one of the early busses with the remote chance of winning one of the early bird prizes.  Extending my night’s slumber as much as possible was much more appealing to me.  I ended up with ample time to mingle around the fires, use the pop’s a couple times, and to relax all layered up to keep the morning chills at bay.  It was a nice change in several prior years to feel somewhat cold as the race began.  I knew that once the sun came up, and I had put a few miles behind me that the temperature would be just right.

At the starting line, I stood next to a runner I had been competing against in the Grand Slam.  His cumulative overall time after three prior marathons was only 27 seconds lesser than mine.  That’s over the total of 78.6 total miles!  Usually competitors might refrain from showing their competition any advantages or dispositions, but I felt no harm in wishing him well and explained my troubled leg.  I set my gps a little too early, and when we began, it had gone back to home setting and had to gather a signal once again.  It did not start tracking my running until about a minute and a half later. Dang!

I chatted with an acquaintance for the first few miles while coasting along in the early morning darkness.  I believe we parted ways after 4 miles and I really don’t know if he fell behind or surged ahead.  Shortly thereafter, a chatty runner named Kyle Larson struck up conversation that would last clear up until the 21st mile.  I usually prefer to save my breath and concentration during running events, but this time it provided an excellent distraction and I didn’t believe I would be completing a pr today.  I learned that he is a dentist, 7 time Ironman competitor and had just completed the LOTOJA cycle race. He is from Boulder City Nevada and had flown into St. George with his Sandpiper airplane.  Now that would be an awesome way to travel to races!

The miles seemed to go quickly (In frame of mind, but not actual pace!) and I truly enjoyed just being part of the event.  I asserted to Kyle that I didn’t want to determine his race with him hanging back with me, as I could see that his legs had much more strength and speed than mine.  He was perfectly content just making conversation.   With just over five miles to go, he finally wished me well and sped on ahead to take a stab at running a sub-3 finish.  He would eventually complete with a time of 2:58:56.

I plugged away the final miles at a steady rhythm, feeling surprisingly well.  Though my legs seemed to be missing a top end gear, my breathing, heart rate and energy levels felt linear.  My final time was 3:03:02, which is within a couple minutes of my times over the last couple years.  I am content with that time with consideration to the recovery from last month’s ultra race.  At Wasatch, I shaved over 4 hours off my time from last year.  I suppose that’s a greater accomplishment than if I had achieved a pr of just a few minutes here in St. George. 

The other Grand Slam runner I had bid well at the start line finished with a time of 2:53:48.  His cumulative time placed him at second place overall for the competition.  To my surprise; I finished third overall, though I felt my position was going to be an age group award at best.  I received an awesome engraved thermos, a $50 gift card, a tech shirt, and a finisher’s medal.

Today turned out better than my pessimistic self had forecasted.  I had fun, enjoyed my involvement, and lacked the soreness I had envisioned to be throughout the race.  Now I will take things easy in preparation for the SOJO Marathon in two weeks.

In this event, my legs told me it’s time to end the racing season.  I knew very early on it would be a tough one and I’d have to slog it out to the finish.  I in no way felt fresh, and began to struggle by the half.  Things really turned ugly from mile 17 on.  My energy levels remained intact while the feeling of running on bloody stumps increased.

My daily runs leading up to this race were a good indicator of how things would play out.  I’ve had some really lousy running lately.   I kept telling myself to take things easy, not worry about pacing, and just to get some maintenance mileage in.   Being on the verge of injury has been frustrating as my desire to run has been unfaltering, while my legs have continued to feel trashed.  Taking extra days off, doing easy runs and even just walks on the treadmill had appeared to be helping, but I suppose a season of multiple road marathons and a couple ultras has taken its toll.

I have really enjoyed racing this year.  I may not be in my prime now, but I had tons of fun, set some new pr’s, met many great people, and experienced a ton of beautiful race settings.  With all of this in mind, I have no regrets on how I spent my year running. 

The race wasn’t all doom and gloom, as there were moments I enjoyed being in the moment.  The weather was perfect, (other than a few minor winds here and there) and I was running in a marathon for free.   Surprisingly enough, I placed in my age group for the third year, so it looks like I’ll be back next year for another free entry.  It will be an opportunity to redeem myself for this year’s lackluster performance.

I’m looking forward to recovering, getting my legs back and running for the next few months without the pressure of racing performances.  Sometimes training runs are the most enjoyable ones of all.

My Garmin recorded a final time of 3:18:16, yet the timing company came up with a time of 3:16:23.  I don’t know how this discrepancy occurred.  Here are my splits.   I’m not particularly proud of them, but here they are:

1. 6:51       
2. 6:44
3. 6:55
4. 7:19
5. 7:21
6. 8:30
7. 7:24
8. 6:51
9. 7:02
10. 7:00
11. 7:06
12. 7:14
13. 7:08
14. 7:16
15. 7:29
16. 7:14
17. 7:57
18. 7:43
19. 7:36
20. 7:55
21. 7:57
22. 7:49
23. 8:23
24. 8:05
25. 8:56
26. 8:36
27. (.20, read .24, 1:57, 8:16/mi.)