My race day began with climbing out of bed at the Days Inn, after a restless night’s sleep. Bunkering down for sleep in a less than stellar hotel room on a stiff mattress, combined with Melissa feeling a fever and having periodic coughing fits, was less than ideal. I felt really bad for her state of discomfort that eclipsed my own of which was self imposed. She’s always a trooper to show me full support in my countless running endeavors. For that, I am truly grateful.
Race morning began at 3:45, with slipping on my running attire, taking a few bites to eat, and a chance to clear out the system. Melissa and I pulled to the front of our hotel at 4:15 to meet my good running friend, Carl. This would be his 5th or so marathon, and only his second after nearly two decades. This day would bring in a great way to celebrate his 62nd birthday.
We headed over to get parked, and to catch a bus to the race start. Melissa stayed back at our SUV with the usual makeshift bed laid out in the back, to catch some more sleep. She’s done this dozens of times over the last few years, while most runner’s significant others would be lying comfortably at home in their own beds! We discussed the feasibility of her doing a late checkout at the hotel, but the logistics of finding parking and making it to the finish line seemed to be more of a hassle.
Carl and I boarded one of the first busses and passed the time chatting away about race details. We arrived at the starting area in what felt like little time at all. Those rides usually feel like a long journey, and the anxiety builds in realization of the distance we’re about to cover.
The pre race conditions looked favorable, with clear skies and temperatures in the mid 30’s. We huddled next to a barrel of fire to keep the jitters at bay, while exposing ourselves to the smell of campfire. I had the opportunity to converse with several friends I’ve made over the last few years. We used the port-o-potty a couple times, stripped off our extra layers of clothing and dropped our bags in the retrieval truck. Carl was shooting for a finish somewhere between 4.5 and 5 hours, so we wished each other well, and went our separate ways as the countdown to start began.
I had decided to be aggressive in my pacing and would see how the day would play out. I knew the more risk involved, the greater chance of a blowup there would be in my race. I really wanted to see the limits of my fitness and how my training would pay off. Last year had been a year of improvement in most of my races, with many new pr’s.
The first 10 miles seemed to go by quickly, and while I did feel some effort, the pace felt maintainable. It was nice to be running a marathon again after a 7 month break. The splits were on par with a sub 3 hour finish, which is what I have been chasing, and will happen when the stars align for me! I believe I started going slightly anaerobic as the course had a few minor rollers from 11 to the half. During this stretch, I began to question the feasibility of maintaining my spits. I knew there could be some slower miles with the climb at 14, and some rolling sections before the dam near mile 18. My hope was to complete the Pineview Reservoir stretch, and shift to a higher gear as I headed down the canyon.
As the greatest elevation decrease in the race began to occur, I quickly realized that I lacked the neural drive to keep my pace in the range it had been a few miles earlier. There was some discouragement that followed, but I didn’t foresee a total blowup yet. I clamped down, and maintained whatever pace I could, minute by minute through the remainder of the canyon.
When I approached mile 23 at the mouth of Ogden Canyon, I had the first glimpse of one of my toughest 5k’s I had yet to run. I arrived at the aid station, grabbed a drink, and wanted to be done with the whole thing. My legs still felt fresh, but my energy was in the gutter. From this point to the finish line, I began a jog/walk procession. My heart was racing, and my respiration had accelerated. I felt like a farm truck, stuck in low gear with the engine red lined. There was some leapfrogging with a runner in a blue shirt who was clearly struggling as I was. Misery loves company!
The final miles crept by, literally and figuratively. I had taken the risk of pushing my pace beyond my limits of sustainability, and paid the price. This felt characteristic of a first time marathoner! I certainly would have preferred a better outcome on the clock, but I can chalk this experience up as a lesson and a gauge for where my fitness currently resides. I have no expectation of being an elite front-of-the pack runner. There is still room for improvement, however, and as the saying goes, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained!”
Post-race was spent slowly making my way through the finish corral as I met up with other runners to recap each other’s experiences. Some stories were upbeat and joyous, others downtrodden and disappointed. Melissa greeted me, and we headed over to the SUV to relax and pass the time until Carl’s anticipated finish line arrival. It felt great to have the race over with and to lie down for a while.
Carl finished with a time of 4:48:36. He always reminisces of his running days in the early 90’s, when he ran some low 3 hour marathons. Although he has slowed considerably since those days, he was happy with his Ogden Marathon experience. I was happy to see his positive attitude, and I admit it was slightly contagious.
My Garmin splits were:
1. 3:39
2. 6:45
3. 6:39
4. 6:31
5. 6:44
6. 6:49
7. 6:44
8. 6:57
9. 6:57
10. 6:51
11. 7:09
12. 7:00
13. 7:46 Port-o-potty
14. 7:06
15. 7:39 The Climb!
16. 7:20 Some rolling
17. 7:14
18. 7:05
19. 7:19 Beginning of off-pace splits given course drop
20. 7:33
21. 7:10
22. 7:30
23. 7:10
24. 8:30 Wheels fell off!
25. 8:50 Dragging on bloody stumps!
26. 8:55 Death march!
.41, 3:35, 8:50/mi. No final kick!
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