Confession time: I undertrained for this one. Borrow the prediction of Clubber Lane in Rocky III: the forecast calls for pain.

But it wasn’t that bad. I would highly recommend this race to anyone.

It was a gorgeous day at the reservoir, where the race begins and ends. Lots of races involve a long drive to the start or a drive and then a bus ride. It was a very short drive from the heart of Boulder to the parking area at the start. It was cool that morning but no need to get out of the car. I reclined the seat and “rested my eyes” for a half hour or so.

Part of why I would recommend this race to anyone was their attention to detail. We got a thoroughly stuffed goody bag as well as a very nice cap and technical shirt. Most races are focused on, well, racing. They don’t always have the best sound systems. The Boulder Marathon, however, did not skimp on speakers.

You could either describe this race as a big small race or a small big race. Either way, I was happy with the number of people at the starting line. There was a really good vibe to everything.

We were about 3 minutes late in getting started, so I have deduct points from the technical portion of the score for this race. But we were off and all seemed to be going well.

For the most part, this race is run on well maintained dirt roads. Race materials say it is 90% dirt. My guess would be closer to 75%. Still, it is the closest thing to a trail marathon that I will probably ever do. I had some apprehension about the roads, especially given the changeable weather in the Rockies and the notable chance of rain the forecast. On this day, there was no need to worry on that score.

The race was very scenic and induced a very peaceful feeling. Being a back of the packer, there weren’t many people around me, though the race was big enough that I never got lonely. One of the nicest things happened around Mile 6. I was stopping pretty regularly to take pictures. A couple behind me took the time out to stop (yes! in the middle of a race) and offered to take my picture. How could I refuse? You can just see the cones around the timing mat at the 10K point in the background.

To this point, I was executing to my race strategy pretty well. I’ve put together a spreadsheet using map data to set paces based on the road grade. The map data was broadly accurate but I remember the first part of the race going faster than I predicted. Early miles should have had some annoying (if not nasty) hills and they just didn’t seem that bad. I’ve been working on hills but I didn’t think I had improved that much. About half way through the course, the hills just seemed to get much, much harder. Maybe I did myself in somewhere between miles 9-12 with some over exuberance on the downhills. I also worked on running up those hills after that point (if you call 14 minute mile pace “running”). I’m sure that contributed.

But then again, remember how I said it was a nice, cool morning? It didn’t stay that way. The race was run on the last day of summer. Summer. The weather did not want us to forget it was summer. It got really hot. The race organizers sent an e-mail out after the race saying that they thought it was really hot, too. I remember seeing the emergency vehicles go by way too many times. Once is too many times if they have their lights flashing, don’t get me wrong. I just think the heat really got to people.

So here I am, undertrained and very hot. Do you see where this is going? Not to the hospital, thankfully, but not my finest hour in terms of a race result, either.

It was a real struggle in those last miles. The race seems to have run out of cups so they were handing out water bottles instead. I don’t think I will soon forget one of the ladies using her cleavage as a cup (bottle?) holder. I wish I could have done the same.

The hills in the last part of the course were really cruel. Maybe they would have been a nice challenge in 55 degree weather. Not fun at all in the heat.

I tried to summon up the strength to run the last mile, as there is some downhill to it. But I got to experience something new instead. My body told me: “If you run, you will throw up. If you walk, you might (or might not) throw up.” I just did not want to toss my cookies this day. So I walked. I managed to run that last .2 miles or so and it was nice to have that small victory. Name announced, across the line, snag my medal.

Then something else amazing happened. For the first time EVER (and Casper doesn’t count) – I FOUND the Beer Tent! So, I can check that goal off my marathon list now, too.

The Boulder Marathon had superb volunteers and great organizers. My thanks to all of them for a good time.

As you might imagine, this report will not be that much different from my ET Marathon report from last year. It will kind of be a report about the “delta” between the two races and a chance to talk about some “firsts.”

I made friends for the first time using this blog. I got to meet Ramona, who had left a comment on my report from last year. True to her word, she was wearing her shirt from the Martian Marathon and it made her and her husband (who was similarly attired) very easy to find.

Loading up the buses went very well this year. Maybe a little too well. We left very early and had to wait longer for the race to start. Don’t get me wrong; I’m thrilled to “complain” that an RD did something too well!

The buses were once again ice cold but I brought my sweats this time. It turns out that you can ask the bus driver to adjust the air conditioning, too. Who knew?

Michael Jackson had just recently passed away. The bus driver had us listen to his greatest hits almost all the way there. I don’t get the feeling that my fellow marathoners were big fans. I’m not either but I have to admit some of those tunes were pretty darn good as I listened to them in that liminal state between sleep and wakefulness.

We arrived at the Black Mailbox. The race was much bigger this year. The Mailbox was lit up by a lantern at the table where they were handing out glow necklaces. Perhaps because it was easier to see, lots of people were getting their pictures taken by it. Ramona had brought along some glow necklaces and glow bracelets of her own and graciously gave me a few, with which I decorated my hydropack.

Here’s a few pictures of the starting area to give you a flavor. I start with Ramona and me posing with the Mailbox.

I believe Ramona’s husband was doing the half, so he departed on the bus for the starting line. Ramona and I, along with a friend of Ramona’s that I’m darned if I can recall her name (sorry!), all started together. They agreed to my run 4 minutes, walk 1 minute pace plan though I wasn’t exactly sure why. It was nice to have company, let me tell you.

It was windy, even a little cold. On the Thursday before the race, the full moon had been exceptionally bright back home in Phoenix, just as it had been for the race last year. This meant on race day we were a few days past the full moon and possibly due to clouds as well it just was not as bright. If anything, it was really dark and the headlights made a big difference.

Here’s a picture of some runners on the course. Can you tell what this is if you didn’t know?

We were close to the time of the Perseid meteor shower. I saw 14 shooting stars this year.

The 13 mile climb up the hill was still awful. My plan was to do run/walk for the first 10 miles and then walk the last 3 miles up the hill. If anything, I should have walked the last 4 miles! I was not defeated by the hill this year, even though I was definitely tired by the time I reached the top. This part of my strategy definitely worked.

Coming down the hill, we played a word game. You would say “I’m going on vacation and I’m taking a….” Then, you would say the name of thing starting with the letter A. The next person would say all of that plus a thing starting with B and so on. My brain has never hurt so much during a distance event! I didn’t play along when it came time to do “I’m going to a concert and I’m going to see…”

Not sure if these ladies won the costume contest but they probably should have. Imagine this sight coming out of the darkness at you. The costumes are on backwards – the ladies are running away from me and have their masks on the backs of their heads.

Somewhere around Mile 17, I realized that I was Not Done. A marathon just wasn’t going to be enough for me tonight!

Somewhere between 17 and 20, Ramona and I went our own way. She was having a much easier time holding her pace.

Hit the wall twice. At 23 (predictable) and 30 (surprising).

Finally had a negative split at the marathon distance, as best I can calculate from my Garmin’s data.

As I was coming back from the turnaround (25.7 miles, as I recall), I found the sunrise. It was unbelievably gorgeous and worth the wait and the effort. I’m not sure the picture does it justice but here you go.

Finally had the feeling that running would be easier than walking in the late 20s. I started counting the passing lines on the pavement, trying to run for (what else?) 51 of them before walking for a few. Finally, I just couldn’t count anymore and there went that trick.

I was racing with a number of people towards the end, so I feel like I earned my Age Group DFL. The most amazing part was at the finish line. A guy tried to pass me. It made me so mad! I didn’t realize I had that much left in me. I was going so fast that I literally could not go any faster, arms and legs were just flailing, full sprint after 31 plus miles. He nipped me at the line but it was still really cool!

I met up with Ramona at the Little A’Le’Inn. She said she would have gone out too fast if not for me and I thought that was a really nice complement. That is my big takeaway for this race – do not let that initial hill defeat you.

I had hoped to break 7 hours, as Ramona did, but instead I came in just over 7:17. This is better than my 50K PR of 7:42, so I’ll take it.

Had a beer and Coke at the bar. Easy to find the post race beer when you have to pay for it! Perhaps because of the calories, I was a real chatterbox on the way back. Here, I got to make another friend, Maryann (another commenter on this blog). It was great talking about other races, music, and all sorts of other things. Still, sorry if I disturbed anyone on the bus too much.

It is the policy of this blog that all race volunteers and great and wonderful and deserve to have praise lavished upon them. The volunteers at this race excelled and were especially noteworthy. I really appreciated the Pepsi near the marathon point and that you smiled as I was singing “Family Tradition.”

Much as last year was a good event, this year was better and so the credit for that must go to Joyce, the lovely and gracious, our RD. Big Thanks to her and to all the volunteers and to the wonderful staff at the Little A’Le’Inn.

This event was tactically well executed, especially given that it was an inaugural event. I just don’t like some of management’s choices. It all boils down to the fact that I can’t stand wave starts. I’m done with them.

It was a beautiful course. I absolutely love my new tech shirt and I wear for workouts all the time. The course was challenging but not a killer. My wife and I had a wonderful time in Seattle before and after the race. There really was a lot to love.

I have some pictures. I may post them later.

Here’s another question that led someone to this blog. I have several reactions.

1. Honestly, it beats the hell out of me. You would think that if someone did all of that running, the weight would just dissolve, almost as if by magic.

2. But it doesn’t work that way. I’m not exactly sure why but here is what I surmise. All that exercise makes you hungry. It is very easy to overeat, especially when you feel you are being “good” by adhering to your training program. Running, however, is not an excuse to not watch what you eat. If anything, you need to think about what you are eating more, so that you are properly fueled for practice and for racing.

3. Because you do need to be properly fueled for running and for life in general, I don’t believe that marathoning is a particularly good weight loss regimen.

4. What running and marathoning can be though is something much better and much greater. You’ve heard that cliche – make a lifestyle change. If running, and running marathons if you want, becomes part of your life, becomes part of who you are, well, my friend, you have made a lifestyle change. I do believe that the weight will come off, agonizingly slowly perhaps and not without some setbacks, but you will lose weight.

5. The latest things I have read in the papers (for whatever this may be worth) say that you need to exercise for 5 hours a week to lose weight. If you are faithful to a marathon program, and if you have made running a part of your life such that you keep running even when you are not training for a specific event, you will be able to run 5 hours a week. I find that if I keep control of my diet and stay at 5 hours or more a week I have much better success in losing weight. If I am having trouble, I can usually find that my log will show I have been running for less than 5 hours for a week or three.

6. If you are just starting, don’t let 5 hours a week scare you. It may take years for you to get to that point. It did for me. But you can make it. This again is the dreaded “lifestyle change.” I’m here to tell you that it is doable. There’s no rush. Keep at it. Remember, though you need 5 hrs/wk to lose weight, you need only 60 minutes a week to get real health benefits from running.

For this race, I flew up to Denver and then drove for 4 hours to Casper. I visited Yellowstone as a child but otherwise I have never been to Wyoming. The phrase “high, lonesome” (used to describe the sound of bluegrass music) kept occurring to me as I looked out at the prairie. I was making this trip without my family, so the “lonesome” may have been more indicative of my interior state than that of the landscape.

I got to meet with a number of great people. I’ll mention 2 running celebrities. First was Larry Macon. He holds the world record for most marathons in a year with 105. Next was Chuck Engle. Chuck will probably win 30 or more marathons this year and he won at Casper. Chuck plans to try to break Larry’s world record next year. Of course, Larry may decide to break his own record this year so it isn’t clear just how many races Chuck will have to run until 2009 is over.

Race morning was quite cold. Everyone thought that I was crazy to be in just shorts and singlet. However, I’m a big guy and retaining heat is not one of my problems. Still, the day was colder than I would have liked. The altitude, which had not been a factor at Shiprock, seemed to be a factor for Casper. The course was not really hilly…and yet it was. It was also thirsty work. I usually drink about 40 of the 80 or so ounces of half strength Gatorade I take with me. Today, it was more like 60. In short, this is a fairly tough race.

I don’t feel like I took this race that seriously. I’m not trying to be down on myself; that’s just how I feel. So, I’m just going to share some pictures with you.

This is near the beginning of the course. Here, you can see Ken and Amy. I had dinner with them on Saturday night. Ken is working on running all 50 states for the second time! Amy is going along with him to complete all 50 for the first time. They have about 13 races left this year before they accomplish their goal. Before Casper, I had done 13 marathons in my lifetime.

The course is beautiful, in a way that kind of sneaks up on you. Most of it is run on footpaths rather than the road. Here is a shot from somewhere between Miles 6 and 10, as I recall.

I had a pretty good race through the half marathon point. After that, I was toast. I couldn’t push my pace for anything.

There is a long out and back to a turnaround point after Mile 16. There are some nasty little hills in this area.

These next 2 pictures are from the last 6 miles of the course. You can see the oil derrick in one of them. You run right by it twice. I meant to get a picture from close to it but just never did.

Finally, I reached the finish line in 5:25 and change. They had a very well stocked beer cooler with 6 different kinds of beer. I was in no condition to make such a weighty decision, so I took the Corona as I was directed. I have never managed to get a beer at the finish line festival before. So, this race may not have been a Personal Best, but at least I got a Personal Beer!

Here’s a picture of the finish area from the day before. For being in a parking lot of a hotel, it’s kind of pretty, situated as it is right next to the North Platte river.

It was obvious the race director and volunteers were doing this for love, especially on a cold day like this. Thanks and love to all of them!

A person entered this question as a search. What a great topic for the Born Too Slow blog!

The short answer is: Probably Not.

There is also a longer answer. Basically, only you and the Race Director know for sure. Why the RD? An RD can set a time limit for the course. Before you enter the race, check to see what this time limit is. Then, if the RD hasn’t already done that for you, calculate the average minutes per mile pace you will need to stay within that time limit.

A marathon is 42195 meters or approximately 26.22 miles. The official name for this is the Polytechnic distance. You could also call it the “Olympic” distance. I say this because people will sometimes ask you “how long is your marathon.” There are also a small number of events, most notably the Comrades Marathon in South Africa, that are called “marathons” but use a longer course (I think Comrades is 53 miles).

Using this distance, we get minute/mile averages like this:

Time Limit – Min/mi
5 hrs – 11:26
6 hrs – 13:44
7 hrs – 16:01
8 hrs – 18:18

I think 5 and 8 hour cutoffs are pretty rare and 6 and 7 hour cutoffs are pretty common. Some courses have no cutoffs. If you can’t find the course cutoff time on the website, you can contact the RD and ask.

That doesn’t answer whether or not you are too slow. One way to think about it is to figure out how fast you can go the first half of the race (13.11 miles). If you are worried about being too slow, that probably means you will be running a significant positive split. In other words, your second 13.11 miles will take longer than your first 13.11. For a course with a 6 hour cutoff, you are probably too slow if you can’t do 13.11 in 2:45. This will leave you 3:15 in which to go 13.11 more miles. As you can see, you are probably going to cut it fine if you arrive at the half marathon point in 3 hours because you will be more tired than at the start of the race, obviously.

The next thing you can check is how much the RD will insist on their course limit. Check prior years’ results. If everyone after the finishing time is marked DNF (“Did Not Finish”), you’ll know the RD is serious. If there are times after the cutoff, the RD, in my opinion, put the cutoff time out there as an expectation but still will try to accommodate those last few folks out of the course if he or she can. There is a third possibility. The RD may list those who finish after the cutoff but may not give them a finisher’s medal. This will also be stated on the website. Again, the RD may or may not be serious about this, though if they took the time to say it on the website they probably mean it.

If you are training for a marathon, you should have done several runs in practice of 13 miles or more. Believe it or not, you will probably be able to run faster on race day than in practice. For me and for the longest time, I was running 14 miles in about 3 hours in practice. For a race with a 7 hour cutoff, I would have 4 more hours to go 12.22 miles, not even considering that I might go faster during the race.

If you assess your own fitness, read up on the race, and most importantly are faithful to your training, you will know if you are too slow to run a given race.

Short Version: I finally break 5 hours. PR by 3:18. My most even pacing ever: 2:27:54 first half, 2:32:00 second half.

Long Version: My guardian angel woke me up at 2 in the morning. “You need a drink of water.” I didn’t want to get up. “You need a drink of water.” OK, I thought, I need to go to the bathroom anyway and my mouth did feel kind of dry. I got a bottle of water. I drank about 2/3rds of it and was going to pour the rest out. “Drink it down.” OK, fine. I woke up feeling much less dry.

My family made the trip with me. I had enforced some marathon discipline on them, having everyone lay out clothes for the next morning. We all dressed, had a small breakfast, and got out the door on time. Before we left, my 6 year old told me he was worried that I would not have enough “snacks” (meaning gels). The race had given me an extra gel of my favorite kind (Carb Boom orange-vanilla), so I took it with me.

Shiprock, New Mexico, according to Wikipedia, is “famous” for not having any hotels. Accordingly, we stayed in Farmington. We allowed plenty of time to make the 26 mile drive.

I have noticed that marathoners are not easy on the eyes, at least not on race morning. Sadly, I am no exception. My wife likes to take “before” and “after race pictures. Here is my bleary eyed “before.”

The drop off point is at the course’s finish line. We loaded up on school buses to be driven to the starting line. This was pretty neat as the bus would be driving the course in reverse, meaning we would be able to glean some pre-race intelligence and still have it fresh in our minds for the race.

Every race has a Nasty Surprise. This race is advertised as being all downhill after Mile 20. In the early part of the bus ride, I noticed that the bus was going downhill. In other words, I would be running uphill during part of that last 10K.

We also got the most unique advice for the bus ride. “If you feel sick, ask the bus driver to pull over.” The road we were using was very bumpy. I could understand why someone might get motion sickness. As I discovered when I ran the course, the bumpiness was the result of gaps in the pavement. These seemed quite large but were probably no more than an inch wide. I was afraid I would catch my foot in them. On the whole, they were a nice distraction, a mind game provided by the course itself.

We arrived at the starting line. The day was cold and rain was in the forecast. I wasn’t sure if I should put on a long sleeve shirt or not. I froze myself into a DNF at Portland in 2005. I had to take off my long sleeve shirt at Portland in 2008 on a nice cool day and that cost me some time. I figured I would be able to tough it out. I would wear my Nike shorts, Thorlo socks, Asics shoes, Brooks hat, Nathan water pack, and most importantly, my Marathon Maniacs singlet. This turned out to be a very good decision. There was basically no rain and the coolness of the air and an occasional cold breeze meant I never got hot during the race.

After studying the course map, I made a race strategy based on where the hills were in the course. I had 3 paces: a “slower” pace of 11:45 m/m, a “faster” pace of 11:20, and a “downhill” pace of 10:10 for the steep downhill between mile 3 and 4. My plan called for even pacing (a slight negative split even) overall. From previous years’ results, it appeared that many people had a good first half but just died in the second half. I was determined this would not happen to me.

The first 3 miles of the course are uphill. The good news here is that the course map makes the uphills look tougher than they are. They are long, gradual inclines. I tried not to let the energy of the field pull me along.

Mile 1 – 11:52 (+0:07, slower than planned)
Mile 2 – 11:55 (+0:10)
Mile 3 – 11:32 (-0:13, faster than planned)

They had said that the miles would be marked. I didn’t see any markers. Then I got it. They were painted on the road’s shoulder. Near the markings, there were porta-johns. Once I understood that the porta-johns were the mile markers, I never missed one again.

Next came the big downhill. It was so much fun! I was going too fast and I had to keep telling myself to slow down.

Mile 4 – 0:9:21 (-0:49)

Now it was time to settle in for the long, flattish (or even slightly downhill) portion of the course. I brought my camera. During training, I found that taking pictures was a nice way to slow down my pace and make my mind think about something else. Taking pictures was part of my strategy to be sure I would not go out too fast. When I saw this rock formation, I had to stop for a picture.

Mile 5 – 10:52 (-0:28)
Mile 6 – 11:33 (+0:13)
Mile 7 – 11:13 (-0:07)
Mile 8 – 12:06 (+0:46, I think this was a potty break)
Mile 9 – 10:50 (-0:30)
Mile 10 – 11:17 (-0:03)

I’m feeling pretty good at this point and I’ve got a minute in the bank. At this point, I’ve passed and been passed by the same 2 women a few times. Mostly, I’m trying not to pass, at least not on purpose. I’m trying to stay “easy.” There is also a marathon relay. I’m starting to get used to people shooting past me right as we hit the exchange zones after being basically alone for the prior 5 miles.

The next 2 miles are uphill, more or less. Mile 13 is back to being downhill, but starts to go up again near the end. However, I think I planned for it to be uphill the whole way. Mile 14 is uphill most of the way but I think I planned for it to be downhill.

Mile 11 – 12:03 (+0:18)
Mile 12 – 11:47 (+0:02)
Mile 13 – 11:05 (-0:40)
Mile 14 – 11:32 (+0:12)

Official halfway split: 2:27:54 (-1:36)

I stopped to take a picture of these buttes somewhere around Mile 14. I passed the lady I had been trailing since Mile 3 when she walked through an aid station. She didn’t pass me when I was taking pictures. I guess it was her turn to trail me. She didn’t pass me again for the rest of the race.

The course was very well patrolled by police and EMTs. In the pre-race briefing, we were told just to sit down on the side of the road and wait to be picked up if we needed help. Around Mile 16, I saw a man sitting by the side of the road. He was sitting on a chair! It was the kind of chair you find in hotel function spaces at a conference. I have no idea where he got this chair. Maybe his guardian angel was looking out for him, too. In any case, the EMTs whisked him away and I hope he is OK.

Mile 15 – 11:03 (-0:17)
Mile 16 – 11:04 (-0:16)
Mile 17 – 11:03 (-0:42)

While I had planned for Mile 17 to be the last hill, it really was Mile 18, except for the inclines around 23 and 24. I had been looking forward to getting this one done all day. I think I nearly lost my hat at this point to a strong breeze. It must have been quite comical to see me jump up in the hair while both arms are being flung up around my head to corral my cap.

Mile 18 – 12:44 (+1:24)

Now we head down to the end of Route 13 and the big left turn onto Highway 491 at Mile 20. They had a timing mat at that point. I told the people there “Second half of the race is done. Third half is coming up.”

Mile 19 – 11:22 (+0:02)
Mile 20 – 11:48 (+0:28)

Official Mile 20 split: 3:48:01 (-0:01)

I began tracking a guy down at this point. He would run for about 20 seconds and then walk for a minute or so. It took me a couple miles to finally pass him. He did not look pleased to be passed by the fat guy with the bright yellow shirt and the hydropack. He did surge past me for a few seconds at Mile 23 as I recall but he never passed me again after that.

Mile 21 – 11:42 (+0:22)
Mile 22 – 11:19 (-0:01)
Mile 23 – 12:07 (+0:47)

I’m starting to slow down. I’m using the Virtual Pacer feature on my Garmin and I am very happy to have that fellow still in range. Usually, he’s a half mile ahead of me by this point in the race. I catch up to him but now I’m starting to feel the effect of altitude. I have not been walking much but I have to stop to catch my breath. I know I’m close to breaking 5 hours and taking a minute now may mean I don’t make it. But you gotta do what you gotta do. I also know the course will be very downhill soon and that is very favorable for me. I hope my knowledge of the course is right or my gamble will not pay off.

Somewhere in here, I ate that last gel my younger son told me to take with me. He was so totally right that I would need it.

My Virtual Pacer, running at 11:27 pace, gets about 300 feet ahead and I doggedly pursue him. Finally, after the downhills, I’m about 300 feet ahead of him!

All the aid station workers were great but I have to give a big gold star to the ladies at the Mile 25 aid station. I’m blasting my Ipod. She signals to me with her fingers, 1-2, 1-2, as if to ask if I wanted 1 cup of water or 2. I shake my head “no.” I then give her the sign for “I love you” – I like to give people love on the course. She stops for half a beat. Then she points back at me with two fingers: “Right back at you.”

Mile 24 – 11:32 (+0:12)
Mile 25 – 11:34 (+0:14)

I give it all I’ve got for the last mile. We turn into a dirt parking for some of the last part of Mile 26. It was rocky and uneven and I am just unable to push my pace.. If anyone was behind me, and if they are a better trail runner than me (and I am a terrible trail runner), they will pass me. But no one did. I’m tracking down a guy with Mickey Mouse ears. But I don’t catch him. The consolation prize is that while he was 16 minutes ahead at the half marathon point, he was about 1:30 ahead at the finish.

Mile 26 – 10:30 (-0:50)
Finish – 3:10 (Garmin indicates .29 miles, 11:04 pace, -0:07)

Official time: 4:59:54 vs 4:58:55 planned (+0:59)

I really enjoyed the race. Despite the altitude, I think on a nice cool day you can grind out a good pace. Big Thanks to the RD, the volunteers, the police and EMTs.

In the starting corrals, I remember the announcer saying not to do anything different on race day. Well, I don’t usually get together with 30,000 of my friends at Wesley Bolin Plaza to go for run, pay my respects to WWI ace Frank Luke (his statue is there at the state capitol), wait in line to use the john, put on a race number, &c &c &c.

But that doesn’t mean the announcer was wrong.

I tried several things I don’t usually do. Mostly, I wanted to go with a minimalist approach. Shirt, shoes, socks, cap, bib, gels, cell phone (for finding the wife after the race). That was it. I usually have my Garmin and a water pack and probably an iPod. I also took salt before starting and at the 20 mile marker (they were handing it out at the start).

I’ve done this race 4 times now (3 x marathon, 1 x half marathon). Elite always does everything right or pretty much right. The things they did that were notably great were: lots and lots of portajohns and online runner tracking.

I told everyone on the daily thread that I would be running. I was considering dropping at 19 before the race and the temptation to do so during the race was quite strong. With people tracking me, I couldn’t bloody well do that, now could I?

With no Garmin, I decided to stick with the 5 hour pacer until mile 26 and then surge. As I told her, my goal for the day was to beat her!

10K – 1:11:42 (11:33 pace)

The course is essentially flat though it does rise gradually over the first half of the course. The air was nice and cool but not so cool that I needed a long sleeve shirt or gloves. We spent the time chatting with Pacer Danelle. I really, really wanted to go faster but I was able to rein myself in.

Half Marathon – 2:30:50 (11:31 pace)

The next 10K go through the prettiest parts of the course. I love running through the neighborhood on Missouri Ave; tree lined, older homes, horse properties. It’s very relaxing and there is a fair amount of shade. I was still feeling good through this part of the course, but I always do through mile 10. On 44th St, there is a family that goes out on its front lawn to play rock-n-roll during the race. They’ve been doing so since 2004 and it was a treat to see them once again. It looks like I negative split the half so things were going pretty well to that point. But it was getting warmer and I was getting tired.

20 miles – 3:56:30 (11:50 pace)

Our pacer would slow down or walk for 15-30 seconds through the aid stations. At around 15, I needed to slow down more than that. I kept her in sight and caught up again around 16. Same story at the aid station near mile 17. Same story at 18. I knew if I let her go at 18, I would never see her again. I wanted to at least keep her in sight through 20. I finally lost her as the course winds through downtown Scottsdale at mile 19. I guess I hit The Wall. I took some more salt here and that helped to clear my mind. My legs were covered in salt from sweat that had evaporated. I was really tired.

Finish – 5:29:18 (12:34 pace)

This was simply doing my best to finish. This is the ugly part of the course, it’s quite warm and there is no shade. There is only one real hill in the course, the bridge over the Salt River near mile 24. You might not even call it a hill in other courses but it was more than I could run up that day. All along this section I tried counting road dots, safety cones, passing stripes, in an effort to keep running and it was some help. I tried to run the course from mile 25 and count the people I passed as well as the people that passed me. If I could have kept running, it would have been quite a few that I passed. I couldn’t quite keep it up, so I was passed by about as many people as I was able to pass. I was able to run through the finish.

Like the family on 44th street, there was a guy on his balcony on University Ave who brought out his DJ equipment who was putting out a bangin’ electronica set. Very much appreciated.

I’m disappointed in my time. It is still a course record for me by more than 30 minutes. Of the things I did differently: I wish I had my Garmin. The salt really seemed to help. The water pack might have helped but then again it may not have.

Thanks to Pacer Danelle, the volunteers, and everyone that wished me well!

John “The Penguin” Bingham came up with the saying “The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” I’m pretty sure the miracle here is that I finished. I had several miracles during this race, actually.

I have never done a 50K (31.1 mile) race before. I’ve been training for marathons but I have not been training for “ultramarathon” distances. As an aside, I read on someone’s blog that races aren’t really ultras unless they are 50 miles or longer. Whew! That’s a relief. I should have no problem completing a 50K then!

Just Another Mad Dog is a regular event, something of a tradition even, with the Arizona Road Racers. I saw this race on their calendar and decided to give it a try. It used to be that the race was a 50K and a 50 miler (f/k/a Mad Dog 50-50). It has always been run mostly on concrete in parks in the East Valley. The good news is that the course will be very flat, especially given that most 50Ks are run on trails. The bad news is that the punishment you don’t get from hills you will get (perhaps in a different way) from running on a very hard surface.

The race started at 6am, so I was up at 4 am getting ready for it. The 6am start time is a relic of the 50 mile race, where 12 hours to finish is a pretty fair time goal. It was a gloriously cool morning, maybe even a little cold, but perfect for racing. We started a few minutes late. I’m usually critical of such things, but today, it sure seemed like everyone, racers included, was just not quite awake so nobody seemed to mind.

This year’s event was a 25K and a 50K. Most people registered for the 25K (the Fun Run, as one wag said near the starting area). A number of people said they were planning on doing the Arizona 10K tomorrow. From looking at prior year’s results, somewhere between 5-10 people sign up for the 50K. That seemed to hold true here, with 40-50 signing up for the 25K.

The race course was in Vista Del Camino park. You can see a map here. You start at Ramada 1, circle the lake counterclockwise, cross Roosevelt, circle the lake there, cross the street again, and you are back at Ramada 1. That trip is a little more than 2.2 miles. The 25K is 7 of those laps. 14 laps is 50K.

I always move towards the back when it is time to start so as to allow the faster people space to do their thing. Somehow, I managed to make myself the last person to cross the starting line, which has never happened before. This being an “ultra” distance race, I had planned on going very slowly, so as to avoid the dreaded “death march” to the finish. Based on past year’s times, it looked sure that I would finish Dead Last (DFL), and I was not disappointed. As most people were running the 25K and I was being purposefully pokey, I never passed a single person during this race. That has never happened before, either.

My pacing was really great through the first few laps. The air was crisp, the sunrise beautiful. There were lots of people out enjoying the park, lots of frisbee golfers. The temperature got gradually warmer but I was glad of my long sleeve shirt and gloves for the first 3 hours.

About that time, my wife, her friends, and all their associated kids came to watch the race. As my wife commented, this is an extremely spectator friendly race. It’s a loop course and not a very long loop at that, so finding a place to watch is easy. The course is long and narrow, so you can see the person for whom you came to cheer as they pass on the other side of one of the lakes, too. It’s in a park, so all the kids were able to play while they waited.

It’s also an open course and that was the best part for the kids. They decided to run with me for a while. It was like I was leading my own parade! They weren’t all that interested in keeping up with me after a few minutes, even at my ultra pace. They dropped back to find mom, which again, because this is a park, was no big deal.

I gave my lovely and gracious wife my gloves and long sleeve shirt. She and her coterie took off to go take care of some errand or other. They came back later to check on me. She said “You’ve only got one lap to go?” I chortled. “Three.”

The race was spread out pretty early. I got lapped. And lapped again. A lot. And then I wouldn’t. All of those people must have been doing the 25K. We were starting to get down to those few souls that were doing the 50K. That’s when the “ultra love” started to become apparent. Many ultra runners praise their scene because of how helpful and supportive other ultra runners are. I got a taste of that. I don’t know how to explain it. It was a feeling, not just a pro forma good job as I was lapped yet again (though believe me, every bit of encouragement is welcome) but feeling of real pride and appreciation from the other runners, for a person they don’t even know.

It really started to get warm. That slowed me down a lot. I slowed down as I always seem to in the 23 mile range. Going through the marathon point was really no big deal. The 2 laps after that were. I brought a sharpie along to mark off the laps on my bib. I kept looking down and finished laps were not magically appearing. All that was left is that saying among ultra runners – relentless forward progress.

I completed my 12th lap. I asked the timekeepers if they were going to let me finish or just DNF (Did Not Finish) me. They assured me they would let me finish, and they were as good as their word.

Next was 13. I’m sure I looked terrible. The timekeeper asked me if this was it. I told him that I counted 13 laps. He said that was his count too, but he wanted to offer it (i.e. the chance to stop) to me. To tell the truth, I appreciated the offer but I had to stick it out.

I ran at least some of all the laps, but not the last. I gave up on running it. I just had to finish it. I did this in my first few marathons too, until I realized I could keep running. Still, I felt pretty terrible and I did not want to stress my body any more than needed in order to finish.

I was praying to my angels to help through my last lap, trying to stay calm and relaxed. There was a man sitting at a table and he asked me if I was doing the 50K. I told him I was. He asked how many laps I had left. I said this was the last one. He said he’d been watching me all morning. He told me I was “carrying my leg” and was obviously concerned I was injured. I know my knee was hurting a little, but other than blisters on my feet I was fine (and in fact this still seems true after the race today). I don’t know if this guy was timekeeper or race official or what, but it was nice to have someone looking out for me on the southern part of the course.

There’s a steep little hill, as you come back towards Roosevelt. I ran up it without difficult during the first few laps. I had renamed Mt. Everest in the last few laps. I knew I would finish if I could just get past Everest.

That exactly what I did. I finished in around 7:40, or an hour slower than my goal time. But then, I have read that you shouldn’t even try to predict your first time in an ultra.

Then the best part happened. After I crossed the line, one of the 2 men left said that he had an award for me. I thought maybe I’d get a finisher medal or something. I got a plush dog. It had a tag. The tag had the ARR logo and read Mad Dog, November 8, 2008, Age Group Winner, 1st Male.

Age Group Winner! Holy cow! Could it be true? I know I finished DFL, so that must mean that no one else my age showed up for the race. They could have but they didn’t. I’ve never won a race or an age group award before. I’m unbelievably proud of it.

Now I had to drive myself home. That was the next and last miracle of the day. They gave me a can of Coke. It was great! My brain was ready to party, though my body was still exhausted. The lesson learned here is that if I want to do an ultra again, I need to think about fueling (getting calories) differently than how I think about them in a marathon.

It was an amazing, difficult, beautiful, and even miraculous race. I thanked the volunteers as profusely as I could and I do so again here. It’s hard to get a Personal Record time (it’s a new distance for me, so any result short of DNF would be a PR), PR in distance raced, Age Group win…and a DFL all in the same race. What a day!

I ran the Portland Marathon once before in 2005. It was my first and only marathon DNF (Did Not Finish). I’ve got a litany of excuses. There were 2 of them that mattered.

First, in 2005 I was undertrained. This time, while I am always critical of my own training and I always think I could have done better, there was no doubt in my mind I could finish the race. This time, I was going to crawl to finish line if I had to.

Second, it was darn cold in 2005. Really, it was perfect weather, staying in the low 50s. I’m from the Phoenix area and had tried to train through the summer in the heat. Going from running in the 90s to running in the 50s was a shock. This time, I dressed more appropriately for the “cold.” I also ended up doing most of my training indoors on the treadmill. This meant that I did not get “heat acclimated” and the temperatures were not a shock this time.

Perhaps in part because of my own failures, I was not very impressed with Portland. I didn’t plan to ever run it again. But I really like the city of Portland, its attractions like Saturday Market and most especially the Japanese Garden. I also felt like I had this monkey on my back, that one DNF. It worked out with my family’s schedule that Portland would really make the most sense, so that’s what we did.

Another lesson learned from 2005 was to get my hotel reservations early. We were able to get a place in downtown Portland within easy walking distance of the starting line and what would have been easy walking distance of the finishing line if not for 26.2 miles of fatigue.

Really, with everything marathon related, it is better to do it earlier rather than later. I went to the expo early in the day on Saturday morning. The expo is in the same function space as it was in 2005. The number of racers is almost exactly the same. The first time I went, it felt horribly cramped. That was because I went late in the day. This time, I went early in the day on Saturday but not right when it opened. While it was a little crowded, it just felt like a lot of people were excited about the race, rather than a bunch of people excited about the race being forced through a maze. I rather enjoyed the expo this time and I was able to find everything that I wanted to see.

I got up early on the day of the race too. I have never regretted getting up too early but I have always regretted getting up later and having to rush. I’m used to getting up at 3 AM on marathon morning, so getting up at 5ish was a real treat. I got dressed and had a leisurely stroll down to the starting line. It was great!

This event was so enjoyable, so perfectly done in so many ways that it is really easy to pick at the small things I did not like. Bag check was horrible. This is not a reflection on the volunteers. I’ve never been an RD, but I have observed in other races that racers are given their gear check bags at registration. Even if those bags were to be just white plastic garbage bags, that would be fine. We even could have written our numbers on them at registration. Those who did not expect to check a bag could simply have been given the option not to take a bag. Sure, have a few extra bags at gear check for those folks that forget theirs, no problem. If we had all had our bags in advance, I think we could have check things in a very orderly way, rather than swarming around a table, trying to grab a bag and sharpie. I also thought gear check was hard to find, but then, I usually can’t find it at any race, so Portland was no different. As a very tired and nearly mindless finisher, I would really have appreciated a reminder that I shouldn’t go right back to my hotel but that I should go get my bag. There may have been such a reminder but I didn’t see it. My wife was kind enough to go get my bag for me after I got back to the hotel – how embarrassing! Still, the bag got checked and my stuff got back to me. How bad could it have been?

Now, I’m lined up at the start. It seems they have implemented a wave start. I really don’t like wave starts. This was not advertised on the website and was in fact only mentioned in a photo caption in the race booklet! All things being equal between 2 races I am considering, I will choose the race without a wave start over the one with it. As I said, all things were not equal and I would have come to Portland anyway. I did find the course to be pretty crowded, but by no means congested, so I have to grudgingly admit the RD made the right call. Still, it should have been mentioned more prominently and the information should have been available much earlier. On the bright side, I got to use the opportunity of the extra time to talk with my fellow runners and I always enjoy that.

That’s it. Those are my complaints.

I’m not even going to complain about the weather. Conditions are the start were just about perfect; overcast and cool. I had on a long sleeve shirt over a tech shirt, as well as running shorts, socks, shoes and my Nathan hydropak (filled with 1/2 strength Gatorade – this allowed me to control the kind and mix of my sports drink). I think it started to rain about a half hour or hour into the race and did not let up until long after the last finisher crossed the line, I think. The rain just served to keep me cool and did not form puddles or rivers, though it did make the very small parts of the course that were made of metal a little slippery. If anything, the rain was a net positive.

In 2005, I was stopped by the train that crosses the course. This time, I was fast enough to avoid that. This was such a big relief.

Let’s go back to the start. I lined up behind the 4:45 pacer. As we were waiting for the start, he moved forward more and more. I didn’t feel like pushing through the crowds to stay with him. This same thing happened to me at the Air Force Marathon. In the future, if I want to stay with a pace group, I will position myself ahead of the pacer. By the time the race starts, I’ll probably be right on his or her elbow.

My Garmin had a hard time locking in on satellites because of the clouds and tall buildings. I didn’t get accurate readings because of that. I depend on that watch to be accurate. It made trying to figure out what my pace was more difficult. This was more of an annoyance than anything. I made a simplified pace band to tell me where I should be every 30 minutes. This was rendered useless. Again, not so bad but I think I’ll make my simplified pace bands in miles instead of minutes in the future just in case.

The course was marked with the best mile markers I have every seen. They had large “sandwich boards” for that. This I have seen before, and even as big as they are, I managed to miss them. What was done here that was really great was that a very large balloon and 4 smaller balloons in a distinctive pattern were attached to the top of the sandwich board by a 10 to 15 foot long tether. I would always, and I mean always, see either the board, the balloons, or both, and that meant I would always see the mile marker. That was great!

The first couple of miles I was either a little bit behind the pacer or even a little bit in front. There’s a rather large hill in Mile 3. Maybe it is better described as a gradual uphill with a pretty steep but short incline somewhere in the middle. I did not press the pace. I let the pacer get away. I’d have to catch him later.

There’s a steep decline on mile 4. I love running downhill. I caught the pacer and went past him. There was a race walker that was doing her best to stay ahead of the 4:45 pacer. I thought for sure I could stay with her, maybe even beat her. This was not to be but it was a good dream at the time.

I chugged on into the industrial part of town. I liked this part of the course in 2005 and I still liked it here. I like seeing the faster runners that are coming up the other side of the road on this out-and-back section of the course. The miles are really clicking by and I’m gradually accelerating. I know this is probably a bad idea, but it just feels so good! I’m about halfway between the 4:30 and 4:45 groups at mile 9.

Portland advertises itself as an MP3 friendly race so I brought my Ipod along. The course started to get a little hilly again in miles 11 and 12. It’s not that big of a deal. I probably wouldn’t have noticed at mile 2. Now, I was beginning to feel it a little more. I turned on my music. It was like someone turned on the Technicolor. Wow! The race became that much more enjoyable. The purist in my rebels at this but it is the truth.

Somewhere during Mile 11, I passed The Parking Lot. It was there that my wife and kids were cheering for me in 2005 and I stopped and asked them to take me back to the hotel. This time I was not stopping and I felt pretty darn good. I was about an hour ahead of where I was in 2005. Take that, Parking Lot!

I maintained pretty even split times from mile 5 on through the half marathon point (highest 11:14 at mile 11, lowest 10:24 for mile 8). I remember being at just about a perfect spilt for a 4:45 at the half marathon point (2:21 and change as I recall). I was starting to slow down. And, I was starting to get hot. I was walking the aid stations. I had to do some more walking to take off my very wet long sleeve shirt, my ET Marathon race shirt, which I stuffed into the hydropak. My mile 15 split was only 12:45 despite all that.

Now, we have to go up the hill to St John’s bridge. I had already decided to walk up the hill. It was raining a little more strongly. Rush’s song “The Analog Kid” came on. As I walked up the steep hill, with its fence or perhaps canopy of green trees swaying in the breeze, I listened.

Move me, you move me
With your buildings and your eyes
Autumn woods and winter skies

Move me, you move me
Open sea and city lights
Busy streets and dizzy heights

Call me, you call me…

About then, I reached the top. Before the race, I didn’t think it would be worth it. How wrong I was! The bridge was absolutely gorgeous. What a treat! I was very glad to have it behind me, don’t get me wrong. But I was very glad I had made the ascent.

The course on the other side of the river was just great. Lots of the residents came out to cheer us on. Some notable memories:

There is a street named Wall right about at Mile 19. Some folks made a very large sign to tell us runners we were going through the Wall!

I was doing yet more walking. As I passed by a man who was near the point where I planned to resume running, he said “Billy, are you ready to start again.” I said “Yes” because I was. He waved me through and said “Let’s go.” And I did. Thank you, sir!

There was another man who was very helpful. At that point, I know I had to look like somebody had left a tired, fat man out in the rain. He told me that a major downhill was coming. He was right. It took another 2 miles to get to it but I had that bit of hope to grasp. Thank you for that, sir!

My splits from mile 19 to the end are not impressive. My worst split was 13:28 at mile 21. Usually, I’ll get a 15 minute mile or a 17 or 20 even at some point. I’ll definitely take a 13 and a half over those.

The 4:45 pacer was long gone after about mile 14 or 15. The 5:00 pacer finally caught me at mile 23, I think. That is the part of the course I have heard referred to as having “the secret hill.” Indeed it does. It’s part of a bridge, but not really a bridge. It’s a secret hill.

There was a lady dressed as a blueberry on Naito Parkway. You get to run by her 3 times, twice near the start of the race and once near the finish. I was never so glad to see a blueberry, even one with a megaphone!

The later parts of Mile 25 and 26 I went into a pain trance. I’ve never done this in a marathon, so despite the fact that it was not fun in any way it is something of an accomplishment. Around this point, and just at the right point, Inez’s song “Stronger” comes on. I annoy my fellow runners by singing aloud. I was kind of hoping to encourage them. I didn’t understand all the lyrics, but this is what I sang.

I’ve got my inside out
And my head, it won’t stop
Halfway up feels like going down
But I’m getting stronger and stronger
I’m getting stronger and stronger

There was another race walker. This one I was able to track down and basically nip at the line. Looking at the official race pictures, there is a man in front of me, only a few paces in front of me. I don’t remember him at all! I gave the race about as much as I could give. It wasn’t a 4:45 effort, but it was a PR effort. 5:03:14 is a one minute PR for me. I don’t think Portland is a tough course, but it is tougher than the mostly downhill Tucson course in my opinion where I got my previous PR.

I was about to ask for medical help. The aid volunteers can sense this. One interviewed me and determined I would probably be OK. I don’t think I would have been if not for the terrific finish line spread. I drank a couple of small cups of juice (orange and cranberry/grape) and that helped a lot. Another volunteer very kindly tied a mylar blanket on me. I grabbed a chocolate milk – big kudos to Nesquik for being a race sponsor, that’s very smart on their part! I grabbed a sapling, which I gave to a friend of ours that lives in Portland. I didn’t see the orange and vanilla popsicles – my favorite! – and I was very jealous of those runners that had found them. I saw women and men with roses. I thought the roses were only for the women but when I saw men with them I just had to get one for my wife. So, back I trudged. I was given a very small and sickly bud but I hoped the thought would count with my always loving and understanding wife.

Here’s a shot she got of me near the finishing area.

You can just see the rose. I’ve made it a little easier to see here. It’s quite small as you will agree.

As I said, Mission Accomplished. I can now add Oregon to my list of states in which I have completed a marathon.

As a post script, we placed the small rose in water at our hotel. In a few days, it bloomed quite nicely. It was a lovely way to end our sojourn in the Rose City

Thanks to all the volunteers and organizers for putting on such a great event. Thanks so much for helping me get that DNF monkey off my back. It means a lot to me.