11th Annual TOU 26.2!

Saturday marked the 11th running of the Top of Utah Marathon, which starts up the Blacksmith Fork Canyon and drops a total of 1,045 feet in elevation, finishing in Logan... (this 'blog posting is not a solicitation for congratulatory comments, but rather an opportunity to document and share my first-hand experience while it is still fresh in my mind.)...

Friday evening I went to the host hotel to pick up my runner's packet and "goodie bag", complete with timing chip, numbered bib, and a bright orange long sleeved shirt. Keri said, "it's ugly!" I told her it would be great for hunting, and she said, "yeah, but you don't hunt!"

After a restless night of sleep, I awoke at 4:00 am and looked at my alarm clock. I knew there was no point trying to sleep any more, so I turned off the clock alarm and my cell phone alarm, and began my race day preparations. While driving the dark streets, traffic congestion increased the closer I got to the finish area. I found a parking space less than a block away, and walked to one of the waiting school buses, showing my race bib and ankle timing chip as a "boarding pass".

On the 25 minute ride to the start line, the bus was filled with a steady din of excited "runner talk" as the long anticipated day had finally arrived. I shared a seat with a first-timer from SLC who had put in many training miles and long runs, but was still uncertain of what to expect. My advice to him was to "start slow, run your own race, and have fun."

Upon arrival at the start area at 5:30 am under starry skies there was ample time to utilize one of the many porta-potties (complete with glo-sticks for light inside) lined up in the upper parking lot. Then I walked down the light-stick lined path to the start line area and took some time to relax and stretch in the huge, heated warm-up tent. As the tent began to get too crowded, I went outside, walked around the start area as the skies began to lighten, and took in some last minute fluids and nutrition. Now in the upper 30's, it was a little chilly at this elevation (5,610'), but warmer than most previous years.


As the race director began announcing on the PA the "minutes to start time", runners began shedding warm-up clothing, stuffing them in their marked bags, and tossing them in the clothing bus for transport and post-race retrieval. Signs on the sides of the start area marked different anticipated finish times, reminding runners to line up accordingly to keep faster runners up front. I saw many familiar faces as runners exchanged nervous conversation as the moment of truth had arrived. The wheelchair racers started at 6:55, and the excitement continued to build as over 2,000 runners stood elbow to elbow anxiously anticipating the start.

At 7:03 the race began, signalled by the sound of multiple black-powder muzzleloader blasts fired by men in mountain-man garb, echoing off the canyon walls. I crossed the start line a minute or two later. The first mile I mostly concentrated on keeping enough of a cushion around me to avoid tangling feet with other runners at a 9:07 pace, which was fine with me.

We also had to deal with vehicle traffic, apparently because the Highway Patrol was not satisfied with the race director's paperwork and refused to close the canyon. I thought to myself, "I paid good money to be able to run the tangents - not to stay on the right side of the road!" So myself and most other runners still cut the corners anyway, because that's how the official race distance is measured. There were only a half dozen or so vehicles that braved the sea of runners anyway.

The first 15 miles of the race down the beautiful canyon with fall colors on display begs to be run fast, with a gentle downhill and nice tailwind.

Because I knew I was undertrained, my plan was to hold myself to an 8:45 pace until the last 11 miles, when I could slow to a 9:15, and finish under 4 hours. In my race-day excitement, especially after a 5 year hiatus, I allowed my pace to increase to about 8:20, until before I knew it I was 12 minutes ahead of a 4 hour finish!

One of the neat things about witnessing a marathon, is seeing people of all different shape, size, age, race, interest and ability - all running the same race, but each with a different reason, motivation or cause. A few miles into the race I saw a young lady with a stride and gait as normal as any other runners, then I glanced down and noticed that she had a prosthetic fiberglass "spring" for her lower left leg. Two years ago, while volunteering at an aid station, I gave water to a visually impaired runner, who ran with a guide "wing-man" the entire race.

Another young lady ran in memory of her husband, who was killed in the Iraq war in February, and was scheduled to return the day of the Marathon. There is story after story of personal triumph over tragedy, or just overcoming difficult obstacles or life challenges.

At mile 13, just before the half-way point, I was greeted by Tanner, Landon, and a number of other friends at the "Bobcat Bend" aid station. I made it a point to drink a full cup of water and gatorade at each station every 2 miles, as I knew hydration could be critical as the temperatures climbed near the finish. I knew I was getting enough, because I had to duck behind a tree or bush a total of 4 times along the way to quickly tap my kidneys.

As the course flattened in the valley and sun began to beat down, I slowed to a 9 minute pace. I passed by more familiar faces of good friends, such as Dallen, Alyssa, Cody, and numerous others. By mile 19 fatigue began to set in with tired, cramping legs, and by mile 20 the sun and heat began to take its toll. I did my best to drink fluids, but my stomach was shutting down too.

At mile 21 I took personal inventory to see if I needed to downgrade my finish goal: I had a whole hour left to run 5 miles and still meet my goal - all I would have to do is run 12 minute miles and I would still make it! Easy, right?! But my legs were shutting down, screaming "Just walk!" or better yet, "Stop and lie down in the shade - Give up, it's just not your day!" I could tell that many people around me were struggling with the same dilemma.

So I considered my options, and began a "running conversation" with God in my head, that went something like this: "Okay, if it is Your will, could you possibly help me get through this? I have done ALL that I physically can myself, so I'll just turn this whole thing over to You, and if it is Your will, help me by making up the difference, and allow me to reach my goal today! Of course if not, that's fine too - You've already done so much for me, but at least help me finish the race."

I waited for a sudden miraculous burst of energy, but it never came. Instead, an idea popped into my head, that if I would run a 10 minute pace the last five miles, I could allow for a walk and stretch for one minute at each mile marker, and still reach my goal with a little cushion! So my mind somehow talked my legs into it, and off we went. Now at each aid station I drank a cup of gatorade and grabbed two waters - one to drink and one to dump on my head as I walked for a minute.

My strategy seemed to work, as I would hit numerous "mini-walls" and talk my legs through each one. When I came down the hill from River Heights and turned west, runners were teased with a glimpse of the finish line in the distance to the north, but we still had nearly two winding miles to go. It was not until I reached mile 25 at about 3:45 that I knew I would make it. As I turned the corner with 2 blocks to go, there was a man down on the grass with medical personnell treating him for severe leg cramps and acute heat illness. Many other people suffered similar problems as the day heated up. By now it was in the 70's, which for a marathon is a bit too hot - especially in the direct sun.

I turned the final corner and once again saw the finish line and the gauntlet of cheering people. I saw Keri and Clover cheering with the crowd on the left and I threw my arms in the air when the PA announcer called my name as I approached the finish line. I crossed the finish line with an incredible combined sense of relief, euphoria, exhaustion and gratitude that is hard to explain or describe. In an instant, all of the work, effort and pain became worth it.

One volunteer removed my timing chip as another placed a finishers medal around my neck.

As I walked through the recovery area, I became emotional as my legs realized that "it was over" and lost what little coordination they had left. I attempted to drink more fluids, but my stomach rejected that idea, literally. I scanned the mass of people, until I saw Keri and got a post-race kiss. After slowly walking for about 20 minutes, I found a shady spot on the lawn to stretch out as my stomach began to settle, while listening to the live band play 80's tunes.

I survived the day with no apparent injury and not too much pain. As I reviewed the day in my mind, I wondered if it would have been an easier finish if I had not gone so fast the first half... or maybe without the extra time cushion I wouldn't have made my goal. A day later I am getting around okay, although stairs will be challenging for a day or two.

The Kenyans did not run away with the race.

Actually, the hometown favorite, Paul Petersen won with a time of 2:23:07! (That's a 5:28 average per mile pace for 26.2 miles! crazy!) For a news article about the event go to: http://hjnews.townnews.com/articles/2009/09/20/sports/sports03-09-20-09.txt

Also, here is the link to the official TOU web page. There is a link to the official times and results there: http://www.topofutahmarathon.com/

Special thanks to my wife and boys, friends, TOU organizers, volunteers, the boys spraying water on runners as we passed mile 23, the young lady and her sister with the sign "Run with your Heart" who I saw four different times as they leap-frogged along the course, - and thanks to my "Higher Power."

2.027 total runners finished the entire race, 36 dropped out somewhere along the way, and a number of others who signed up did not even show up. In my mind, however, all of them are winners, because each of them dared to dream. Yes, I'll do it again. I'll take a few days off, and then ease back into it. My goal is to keep running without going overboard. The challenge is to find that balance. Hmmm... Let's see... When is the next marathon? :-)