Bear Lake Idaho

Race Morning:

I woke up at 4:00 am after a very restless night.  I usually am able to calm myself down the night before a race by reassuring myself that it is the rest you get two nights before that is going to affect you on race day.  But then I would remind myself that this is two nights before Saturday’s race.  Anyway—I got dressed, ate a bowl of instant oatmeal, a banana, and a half a bagel, and then, slipped out of the motel room at 4:30, being quiet to not wake up my son.  After scraping the ice off my windshield, I drove the 50 minutes to the start and got in line to get my race number.  It was freezing!  I usually don’t wear a shirt in my marathons but I knew real quick that, today, I was wearing a shirt and gloves.  I did my business in the port-a-potty, lubed up, and got in line to start at 6:00.

The Race:

I let Chuck Engle and his friend, Gary Krugger, go right at the start.  I had learned my lesson to not go out with Engle at the Hatfield-McCoy Marathon a few years ago.  Even being in third was very uncomfortable since I was going to try real hard to follow Dove’s advice that she gave me on how to run a “double”.  But, with no mile markers and no GPS, this was going to be tough—I just ran by feel—nice and easy.  Oh, and I quickly, realized that I wasn’t running at 700 feet above sea level anymore! At over 8000 feet, I was struggling to get in enough oxygen—especially on the hills.  They had told us that the aide stations would be spaced three miles apart, so that’s what I had to go by, as far as pacing was concerned.  At the first aid station (mile 3), I stopped and drank two full glasses of Gatorade—I was determined to stay hydrated.  I noticed I had a guy not too far behind and I was hoping he’d catch me soon so I would have somebody to talk to.  Sure enough, as I stopped to pee, he passed me.  I hustled up and caught him and, noticing he had a GPS, I asked him what pace we were going at.  He looked kind of irritated and said, “Well that one was 7:56.”  “Oh, okay,” I thought and then, after it sunk in, I thought—“Crap!  That’s about a minute faster than I’m supposed to go!”  And, since it was obvious that he did not want to talk, I fell behind him and just relaxed.  At the second aid station (6 miles), I stopped again, ate one of my energy gels, drank a couple glasses of water, and headed on my way.  I was feeling really good.  The guy ahead of me was increasing his distance and I really didn’t even care.  At the 3^rd Aid Station (9 miles), I stopped and had another glass of Gatorade and noticed another guy coming up, not too far behind.  So, I took another glass and drank it while I waited for him to catch up.  As soon as he got there, he said, “Hey—do ya want to run together for awhile?”  I had my running partner—and my new best friend.  Will and I hit it off right from the start.  We talked non-stop.  I’m usually like the guy that snubbed me—I’ve blown too many marathons by talking and wasting energy in the early miles.  But we talked about anything and everything.  We had one kid catch us—we talked to him for a bit—then he got ahead of us but then he took a walk break and we passed him and didn’t see him, again, until the finish.  We noticed that we were catching up to the 3^rd place guy that had passed me earlier but neither of us really cared.  We kept an easy pace and just enjoyed each other’s company.  At one point I finally said, “I don’t even have a clue what mile we’re on.”  Will looked at his GPS and said, “19.5.”  I could not believe we had been running together for over 10 miles!  We only had just over six miles to go, and I was feeling great!  I started doing some calculating in my head and told him that we could get 3:30 if we kept up this pace.  He said that he had been thinking the same thing.  Somewhere along the way, we had passed up that 3^rd place guy.  Over the next couple of miles, though, Will started to slow down.  We stopped talking to try to conserve energy but, with two miles to go, I said, “You know, all of a sudden 3:30 is kind of important to me.”  He told me to go for it.  After making sure that he really didn’t care, I took off.  It was so nice to be able to just let it loose for those last couple of miles.  I knew it was going to be close but I crossed “the line” at 3:29:56.  I was pretty happy.  I cheered Will on to the finish and we congratulated and thanked each other.  I’m usually not able to eat or drink anything after a marathon but I knew it was important to start preparing for the next day, so I ate a couple of bananas and some orange slices and drank some more Gatorade that they had at the finish area.  No problems at all.  We were going to have to wait until 15 people had finished before they would drive us back to the starting area to get our cars.  But Will’s daughter drove up to pick him up and they took me along with them.  That was really cool.

Review:

This race was designed for 50 Staters and Maniacs in mind.  It was very no-frills—we received shirts and finishers’ medals—no awards for anything else.  There were no mile markers but they said the aid stations were spaced three miles apart.  They had water and Gatorade at each and, after the second station, they alternated with energy gels and fruit.  All of this was just fine with me.  If it had been a hot day, the spacing might have been too much, but since it was in the 40’s, this was perfect.  The Race Directors and volunteers were absolutely fantastic!  As for me—I could not get over how good I felt.  I have puked after, at least, half of my marathons but I had no stomach issues at all.  My legs still felt fairly fresh.  I was, mostly, just sleepy feeling from not enough sleep.  It had turned out to be a great day!

Bear Lake Marathon—Utah

Race Morning:

I had to get up at 3:45 am to get to the buses by 5:30.  Again—very little sleep the night before.  I felt very sleepy and wondered how the lack of sleep was going to affect me.  I ate my usual pre-race breakfast—oatmeal, banana, and half a bagel with some Gatorade.  I quietly left the motel room, again, and was happy to feel that it was a little warmer than the day before.  As I got close to the bus loading area—which was close to the finish line, I noticed that they had set out the mile markers and thought about how nice it was going to be to see them in a few hours.  They had them counting down so, instead of the 20 mile marker saying 20, it said 6 miles to go.  I thought that was kind of cool.  I, also, stopped at a port-a-potty on the way, too, thinking that I would avoid any line at the bus loading area.  I got to the parking lot and boarded the bus.  Of course, anytime you get transported to the start, there are many conversations going on all around you.  I’m usually pretty quiet, trying to focus and getting myself mentally prepared for the day’s race.  But, today, I was the one doing the talking.  The guy next to me—I never did get his name—and I just talked the whole way there.  This was going to be his first marathon and his wife and two kids were going to be meeting him at the finish line.  He was hoping to come in around 4 hours.  His wife wasn’t too happy about all the time he spent with his running so this was going to be his one marathon and then he was getting back to spending more time with his family.  Blah, blah, blah.  Anyway, we get to the starting and line, unload the busses and…stand in line for the two port-a-potties…fun.  Luckily, I had taken care of the “major” business back on my way to the bus, so I just had to find something to stand behind and I was ready to go.  I went back and forth a couple of times as to whether I should wear my shirt or not and, finally decided to go without.  I met up with Will—my running partner from the day before—and went to the starting line.

The Race:

As soon as everybody was out of the port-a-potties and lined up, we were off and running.  Chuck Engle and another guy went out fast and a couple of others went just behind them.  Will and I went out with a smaller group and were very satisfied with an easy early pace.  About a mile into it I told Will, “I sure wish I had my shirt and gloves!”  He laughed—but I wasn’t kidding.  Two miles in—at the “24 Miles to Go” sign, Will said he had to back off the pace we were on and we wished each other a good race.  I took off—trying to generate some body heat, more than anything, but I quickly positioned myself in 5^th place.  Those signs counting down, quickly became irritating.  I found that I was having trouble doing the math and, when I was usually happy to see the 22 mile sign, now I was ticked that I still had 22 miles to go…and I was still freezing!  As I would approach an aide station (now spaced every 2 miles) the volunteer would yell out, “Water or Gatorade?”  I would answer back, “A shirt and some gloves!”  They would all laugh—but I wasn’t kidding!  The wind seemed to pick up and the clouds looked like they were going to stay the whole dang day and I was, actually, getting kind of worried about myself.  I have been transported to the ER with hypothermia at the end of a race before, and I didn’t want to go through that again!  At about the “15 Miles to Go” sign—so what is that—about 11 miles into the race—a lady who was driving by, following her husband along the way, got out of her car and cheered for me and I said, “I’m freezing!”  She laughed…but then she asked if I wanted a shirt!  I said, “Sure!  I’ll meet you at your next stop!”  Well, she got in her car and drove up along side of me and handed me her husband’s race shirt out the window.  I put it on as quickly as I could and, it was soooo nice!  A while later, as she was passing me, she slowed down and told me that her husband had asked her if she had given me the shirt off her back, she told him, “No!  I gave him yours!”  She laughed…and this time…I laughed, too!  Anyway, now that I was warm, it was time to get down to business.  I wasn’t feeling great—my legs were stiff—but I kept telling myself that they were no stiffer now than they were at the start—and they really weren’t.  So I kept on plugging away.  At one stop I looked back and saw that somebody was gaining on me pretty fast, so I gulped down my last sip and took off.  The course turned off the pavement and onto a dirt road—well, it would have been dirt if it hadn’t rained overnight.  Now it was mud.  As I approached the “10 Miles to Go” sign, my stomach started feeling crampy and I figured I’d go ahead and take the time to use the port-a-potty to take care of it.  I jumped in and—about a minute later—jumped out and went to the water table.  I gulped down one glass of Gatorade and asked for another and the girl was about ready to hand it to me when the guy behind me came up and asked for water.  The girl turned—with my Gatorade still in her hand—and gave this guy his water.  He drank it and took off before she turned back to me.  Well, that wasn’t fair!  But—did it really matter?  No.  So, I thanked her and took off.  I ran with this guy for a little while but it became apparent that he was much fresher than me and his lead grew fairly steadily.  As I approached the end of the mud road to turn onto the paved road which lead to the finish—8 Miles to Go—I saw the lady that gave me the shirt so I took it off real quick and gave it back to her.  A couple miles later I was really glad I did because the clouds broke and it was pretty warm.  Now, those backward signs were looking pretty good again, too.  The best thing was that, when it said “6 Miles to Go”, it really was only 6 miles instead of 6.2.  This was a very pretty part of the course and I couldn’t remember another marathon that I had actually taken the time to look around at everything like I had at this one.  I was smiling as I was running down that road.  I was kind of enjoying passing up all the half marathoners that had started at the same time as us…13.1 miles up the same road.  My splits were coming in lower than my goal pace was and, with 2 miles to go, I realized that I could run 10 minute miles and still finish under the 3:30 mark.  I just relaxed and enjoyed those last two miles—almost sad that it was almost at the end.  With a mile to go, I decided to try and get under 3:25 and I picked it up.  When I thought I was seeing the finish, I really picked it up.  I was racing my watch, now, trying to pull out a sub 3:25! Almost there!  I made it!  No!  I had to turn and cross the street and finish in the park!  Oh well—it really didn’t matter.  3:25:16.  I’ll take it.

Review:

Unbelievable scenery and, again, fantastic organization.  The packet pick-up, the night before the second race, was a little long and then they didn’t have numbers for the people doing the double, for some reason.  So we ended up having to get there a little early to take care of that but, other than that—oh and just two port-a-potties at the start wasn’t enough—but, other than those couple of things, the organization was great.  I really don’t like having to deal with half marathoners at the end of my marathon, but they didn’t bother me quite as bad, for whatever reason, either.  The aide stations and the volunteers were top notch.  The awards ceremony at the end kind of stunk, too, now that I think about it.  I was standing around for about an hour and they weren’t even close to being done with half marathon age group awards.  I told them I had to go and it took another 15 minutes to find my award.  I really hate doing that, but I had to be back to the motel to check out by noon and it was getting late.  Overall—another great day!

The Trip

This ended up being one of my all-time favorite trips.  If you’ll remember, I have been having a lot of trouble with my 18 year old son.  In and out of treatment centers for the last two years—blah, blah, blah.  I asked him to come along about a week before the trip and hoped like crazy that he would say, “No.”  But a couple days later, he said that he wanted to come and this trip quickly turned into something a whole lot more than just a couple of marathons.  Mariposai had made a comment about me having the “power” to control how things went.  When I first read that, I thought, “Lady—you don’t know this kid!” But the more I thought about it, and then thought of all the other times that I had tried and failed to control my temper and the way I reacted to some of his crap, I realized that it was me—not him—that made the decision to lose my control.  So—every time he would say or do something that would normally draw a reaction out of me, I reminded myself that it was up to me as to how I was going to handle it.  I remained calm throughout—I left all the lecturing and the advising back at the house and I just enjoyed being with my son.  And, for his part, he tried really hard, too.  When we would stop at rest stops, he would say that he had to “stretch his legs” and that was my cue to let him go and smoke his cigarette.  My mother died from lung cancer caused by smoking—so I am pretty anti-smoking—and he knows it.  But, I just let it go.  We had fun stopping at those stupid tourist traps—Corn Palace and Wall Drug.  It was cool to see Mount Rushmore.  We didn’t spend a ton of time at any of these places, but we really didn’t want to either.  The scenery was gorgeous.  The clouds building over the mountains—we saw a rainbow that was as bright as I had ever seen and Eric pointed out that you could see the end of it—and we could—the light was actually reflecting off the ground—I had never seen that before.  I said something about not seeing a pot of gold and he said that that dang leprechaun must have already grabbed it and taken it away.  We laughed at some of the dumbest stuff.  I couldn’t remember the last time he and I just had a good time being together.  Now, he wants to go with me up to Duluth, this weekend, to watch some of my friends running Grandmas!  I still have a whole lot of concerns about Eric.  He is very immature and, I believe, he needs to be in treatment for his mental health issues.  But I will never forget this trip and I’m pretty sure he never will either.

Attitude

You know, I learned a whole lot about “attitude” on this trip.  I went into my races with and attitude of, just doing my best and seeing what happens.  Every other marathon—except Pikes Peak, of course—I was chasing the 3 hour mark.  I knew what pace I had to be at and, when I failed to run that pace, I got down on myself.  I once ran a 3:00:04 and was disappointed!  For these races, I enjoyed the sights—I enjoyed the people—and I enjoyed the run.  I also went into this trip with my son—thanks to Mariposai—with the right attitude.  I would have never stood for his little “leg stretchings” in the past.  But I took on the attitude that—at least for this trip—I wasn’t going to let that bother me.  When Eric would get in the car and complain about how everybody was staring at him— instead of lecturing him on his appearance—I just let it go.  I could have let so many things ruin this trip for me.  But I decided that nothing would—and it didn’t.

Okay—that’s it from me.  Thanks everybody!

Wow!  Thank you so much for this report.    You've made my day.  

 

Very nice running, Very nice parenting.

+1!

Congrats on two greta races and a good road trip.   When's your next double?

This whole report has made my heart happy today.    Thanks for taking the time to share all your experiences with us Mike E - and a HUGH congratulations on running those two back-to-back marathons so superbly!!

I'm not really sure.  I've never been up there as a spectator.  I would think that it's pretty hard to move around.  I really thought I'd be stuck at the finish line--or, maybe at the turn by the big boat.  Got any suggestions? 

 

Well, I would suggest hanging out by the Reef Bar just past Lemon Drop Hill (just before Mile 10/23).  I am pretty sure that a few people that you will be running the relay with will be hanging out there.

When I have gone up to spectate, we always started there and ran backward along the course until we saw someone we know.  Then we would run with them for a bit.  Repeat this process as much as you like...

This was excellent, Mike E. So glad the trip with your son went well. You really grew a lot as a dad on this trip, and I'm sure Eric noticed (whether he said anything or not). You did pretty well on the marathon thing too. Not the times you ran, which are amazing btw, but the fact that you seem to have finally figured out how to enjoy the marathon. 

Wonderful report Mike and great job, both with your son and with the marathons. Inspiring to watch you handle Eric. it is easier sometimes to behave differently in a different setting I think, and you did great!   As for the marathons, enjoying  them is good, increasingly important as one gets older. . Running two in a row like that, in those times, is amazing.

Rob--I might try that spot.  I'm assuming the unruly group will be the MN RED people?  Ryan is going up, as well, so my plans might change--I'll let you know.

Yup, that's them.  Just look for MN RED signs...