December 26, 2009
New photos and marathon reports
There are some new photos up. I haven't unloaded the actual Christmas photos so these are all pre-Christmas day.
For the two of you that are interested, race reports follow. There are a few photos below if you just want to skip through. It is long and tedious. Ye have been warned. The Utah Valley one was written a while ago but the Tucson one is hot off the press.
Utah Valley Marathon Race Report
Marathon: 1
Joel: 0
It has been over four months since the Utah Valley Marathon, my first marathon. It was a very odd, interesting, and painful day. It has taken some time to process all that happened. Going into the race, I had a few goals in mind (in no particular order):
Get to the starting line healthy
No throwing up
No walking
Stretch goal: 3:40-3:45; Sandbag goal: sub 4:00
The race started just below Deer Creek dam. The first 9 or so miles are down the canyon. It was quite the scenic run in the morning. Local law enforcement barreled off the right lane of the highway, enabling the racers to zip all the way down the road. I have driven the road numerous times. Running it was an altogether new experience. The sun was coming up and the canyon was very peaceful and scenic.
Even though it was a small marathon, the starting line and the atmosphere was still quite energetic. The nervous and excited energy of all the runners was pretty thick.
Right from the start of the race, I knew that something was not quite right. My legs weren’t feeling too hot and I felt generally lethargic. I had no problems keeping myself from going out too quickly as I eased off my planned pace.
During the first few miles, I was able to run a few miles with one of my students. I also passed a lady running on a prosthetic leg. It is always motivational to see people going after their goals despite the circumstances.
At mile 6, I started thinking about nutrition and the upcoming first round of Hammer Gel at mile 7. I didn’t feel the need for the gel but I decided I would pop it anyway just to make sure I had plenty of gas in the tank. Aid station 7 came. I hit the raspberry Hammer Gel (mmm) and I was on my way. I still didn’t feel too hot but I figured things would turn around sooner or later.
Well, right around mile 9, I hit the entrance to the canyon and at that same exact instant, I became extremely nauseated. This was one of the weirdest feelings of my life. It was as if a light switch had gone off. I went from being just fine to looking for a place to lurch in under 5 seconds. I was about to cross one of the busy intersections and all I started thinking about was taking a big fat DNF on my first go at the marathon.
I slowed my pace more and tried to relax as best I could. I probably would have bailed on the race at that point but I kept thinking about my family coming to cheer me on just before mile 11. All I could imagine was me limping through and hopefully keeping it together in front of them. I rounded the bend and there was my mom and dad cheering me on. I told my mom she would have no trouble picking me out of a crowd. I think she realized what I was talking about when she saw my hot pink tank. It was awesome to see them. For a few minutes, I forgot about my nausea and I was on my way.
I skipped drinking anything at the next few aid stations. I was debating between dehydration and throwing up. Well, I hate throwing up more than just about anything in life. Onward!
Around mile 12, there was a lady with her hands on her knees sucking air. Her running partner was telling her that it wasn’t worth it. The hands on knees lady said it was and tried to run again... she about tumbled in front of me. I figured she was trying to BQ and went out quicker than I. I felt badly for her and was happy to at least be moving forward rather than stumbling.
Miles 13-15. I was busy looking for a nice cozy place off the course to throw up. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find one. At last, I couldn’t take it anymore and went a bit off the course to a public restroom in a park. Yay for restrooms when you need them! Boo for the men’s side being locked! I jumped in a stall in the women’s side and tried to make myself lose it. Unfortunately, I’ve never done this before and I was extremely unsuccessful. After a lot of gagging and spitting, I decided it was time to toughen up and head back.
The next several miles were pretty much a blur. I was moving but every time I started to speed up, I felt awful. Around mile 17, I had the first urge to slow down and walk. Fortunately for me, the trail we were on was by a river and was mosquito infested. I passed some walkers that had the little blood suckers ALL over them. That was motivation enough for me to keep moving. So I did.
Mile 20 came. A guy with a mohawk was in front of me. He was pacing, er dragging, some guy with him. He turned and saw my pink jersey with “For Mom” scribbled on it. Then came one of the greatest exchanges in my life:
Mohawk guy: “Who are you running for”?
Me: Confused look
Mohawk guy: “You mom?”
Me: “Yep”
Perhaps he was confused by what “For Mom” really meant. Incidentally, I don’t think many people realized that pink was for breast cancer... I passed mohawk guy and was really starting to feel burned out. However, he did provide me some motivation. He told his buddy he would have to move it to make 4 hours. Then it was as if a light bulb went off, I wanted to beat 4 hours! With a renewed sense of motivation, I plodded along.
Fortunately, the nausea passed around mile 20-21. However, having skipped several aid stations and not taking a gel since mile 7, my energy was long gone. The last 5 or so miles were not like anything I had ever experienced before. I have had many runs where my body wanted me to slow down. However, this was the first time where my body wanted to stop. I spent the time admiring the folks around me that were also gutting out the final miles. It was quite an amazing experience to witness so many struggling so much to conquer and achieve whatever goals they had. I had heard that the marathon is two races: the first 20 miles then the last 6. I now appreciate just how painfully accurate that statement is.
After one little (nearly involuntary) walk break somewhere in the 23-24 range (I think), I was nearing the finish line and knew that it would soon be over. I rounded the bend that had a mile 26 sign on it. I swore under my breath that there was still an extra .2 to go. Fortunately, that last stretch was filled with my family cheering me on. I had a nice little kick to the end and it was all over. 3:59. I had just squeaked in under my goal.
At the finish line, my family asked me if I had fulfilled my marathon needs. I think most people would have said they were done after such a painful ordeal. I thought about how painful the entire experience was but I already knew the answer without even thinking about it. I can’t let something beat me down that badly without coming back for a little redemption. I guess that pretty much fits in with the definition of insanity. I guess it can be summed up by the old Adidas ad campaign: Runner. Yeah, we're different.
Tucson Marathon Race Report
Just like the Utah Valley Marathon, the Tucson marathon required a 4am wake up call in order to drive to the parking lot and get shuttled to the start of the race. I'm not sure why but I really hate waking up that early. I don't think my body was wired for that sort of thing. Next time, I'm finding a marathon that starts at noon or something.
It was a beautiful early morning in the Old Pueblo. It was pretty chilly but the stars were out and it was very peaceful. I made it to the parking lot and found my way onto the old yellow school bus for the drive to the start. It was all fun and games until some individual got on the bus wreaking of Icy Hot. Icky. During the 40 minute drive to the start, I started realizing just how far a run I had ahead of me.
At the starting line, there was the usual lineup in front of the port-a-johns and guys just going wherever they felt like it. It was cold enough to see my breath. I wandered around and chatted with a few people from various locations. I then realized it was time to strip down to the shorts and tank for the run. Brrr. One of the girls nearby saw my shirt and asked about Mom. She then told me about her own mom having breast cancer and being cancer free for 5+ years. Yay! Someone finally understood the shirt! We shivered and chatted for a bit before wishing each other luck.
The national anthem was played and then we were off. The sun was just starting to come up in the east (the direction we were heading) and it was a very beautiful and serene sight.
The first couple of miles were rolly polly. Like all races, everyone shot out like their hair was on fire. I decided to keep it slow til the halfway mark then see what I could do. Just as I made this decision, I was passed by a large lady in the fast lane that was wearing compression gear with the name 'Sally' written on the back. I'm not competitive but it was depressing just thinking about being outrun by a 300 pound lady in compression gear. More on this later.
Around mile 7 or 8, there was a brutal uphill stretch. It also happened to be the out and back portion of the course so you could see the runners ahead of you when you were flying down the hill and the runners behind you when you were trudging up the hill. At this point, I saw a blind girl that was running the marathon relay. She had her guide that was leading her with a little piece of rope. It was another one of those inspirational moments that I file away.
Around mile 13 or so, the wind started to blow from the south/southwest. At this point, we were headed due west so it wasn't too bad. I looked up to see Sally up ahead so I decided it was time to up the pace a bit. I was feeling pretty good. Running is so much more fun when you aren't nauseated! I reeled Sally in to find out that she was in fact a he. I passed Sally and didn't see him again. I felt a little better about my turtle running pace.
Miles 13-20 felt great. I felt pretty strong and all was going well. I started to have visions of doing a 3:40 - 3:45. This was short lived as by mile 20, the course turned directly south into the 20mph wind. It was a consistent wind that was a giant battering ram for all the racers. My pace slowed by a minute then a minute and a half over the last 6 miles. It was uphill and into the wind. Ugh. So much for the 3:40 time.
Fortunately, I still felt okay, which is more than I can say for the guy in front of me that was ralphing all over the road in front of me. At least move off to the side of the road, okay? The last miles inflicted much misery on the runners.
After one last really painful (and steep!) hill, it was over. 3:49. All in all, I can't complain. I think I could have gotten very close to 3:40 without the wind. If it weren't for the wind, it would have been an ideal day to run.
I wandered around the post-race food and felt my legs instantly tightening up. By the time I wandered to the front to catch the bus back to my car, my legs had already locked up. Climbing up the bus wasn't too much fun.
All in all, it was a good day for a run. I met some very nice people… from San Fran, Wisconsin, Phoenix, and Winnipeg, Canada. The marathon atmosphere is really one of those times when my faith in humanity is almost restored. So many nice, courteous (for the most part), and friendly people.
It reminds me of a quote from the movie Spirit of the Marathon:
"When you cross the finish line, no matter how slow or fast, it will change your life forever."
Joel: 1
Marathon: 1