Redo #State 23 Erwin, Tennessee

June 6th 2019

 Mockingbird Marathon

To be certified or not to be certified that is the question? Well of course we are going to be (officially certified) or certifiable as some may say. Yes, indeed we will not allow~a few tenths of a mile~to stop us from the goal. A misplaced marker at the Chattanooga Marathon in Tennessee will not be the reason the goal of running 26.2 miles in each state is classified as incomplete. Who wants to be considered an unofficial finisher. It just doesn't feel right! Thus it requires that we run another marathon in the state of Tennessee. A tireless search of various race calendars results in a potential double to redo Tennessee two days before our official 50th state in North Carolina. The race is a small one put on by a new race organization. We join the club and sign up for the race keeping our fingers crossed there will be enough participants to count as a certified marathon course. The worst case scenario, we try out a small multi-loop race with a few other enthusiastic racers and it doesn't count. Best case scenario, we try out a small multi-loop race with a few other enthusiastic racers and it counts.Twelve 2.2 mile loops on a scenic trail is where the battle to get certified takes place. A six a.m. start with an electronic wrist band to log in each hilly humid loop is the challenge for the day. The beginning of each new loop includes an incline and a tunnel just for fun.

 As the loops begin to add up, I become very familiar with every nuance of the course. The steep downward turn to the trail head on the outbound loop becomes a challenging climb and built-in walk break on the inbound loop. The moss covered bridge is a highlight as it symbolizes the nearness of the last quarter mile of another loop before reaching the park's parking lot. The location of the timer and the table where an array of snacks and beverages are placed ready to be consumed by any runner before beginning another out and back loop.

I must say loops are more enjoyable than envisioned. Seeing the same runners time after time struggling along with me is oddly reassuring and a source of strength as I witness others in the same struggle. My fellow runners are the only constant. We are the cheerleader and the rooting crowd of encouragement for one another. As the early starters finish, the trail becomes even more solitary allowing my inner thoughts to surface on the peaceful reflective path. A fellow lady runner keeps making strides to catch me in the last loop. I try to keep my pace as she gets closer and closer.  I desperately want to beat her, but she keeps getting stronger and stronger maintaining her pace as my pace drops.

 Not only am I racing her, but also the clock. My body has slowed considerably during the last few marathons and that sub five hour time is in jeopardy today if I don't hustle. I am too close to accomplishing the goal to give up now. My head goes down pushing myself to keep going, enjoying the assist from the downward gravitational pull from the slope through the tunnel one last time. I barely break the five hour mark, but it's a sweet finish knowing I pushed past my desire to slow down in order to accomplish a longtime goal.

The joy of completing a marathon never diminishes. I may be getting old, but crossing the finish line is exciting and exhilarating each and every time and that never gets old. Now, I can sit back relax in a lawn chair and enjoy everyone else's finish line feeling. My husband's finish is extra sweet too. He overcomes the heat and humidity to take second place. We sit awhile afterwards recovering with nothing but time on our hands sharing marathon stories with a fellow runner from Florida. Once a race is done there are no regrets, I am always happy to run the distance!

See that...CERTIFIED...not CERTIFIABLE 

Recap of New River Marathon State #50 Fleetwood, North Carolina

June 8th 2019

New River Marathon

No excuses, no prefacing, no self-deprecation...the time is now, the final state marathon (number 50) is here and it will be what it will be. It's also time to accept myself as I am. Time to embrace my flaws, imperfections, and mistakes. I must let go of the feeling of never measuring up to my own expectations. Always "the work" in progress status, but today I will run free and unencumbered by unrealistic whims of how I should be. I will run with respect and appreciation for the ability to run. I will run with gratitude...I am blessed my body can still carry me through such beautiful places.

With all the beauty to behold how can anyone run with anything but gratitude through nature's playground filled with a flowing river much of the way surrounded by fields and fields of Christmas tree farms on a mountainous course. Plenty of mud and monstrous hills are followed by miles of soaring winding downhills sections. 

 One thing we learn fairly early in the quest to run in all 50 states, you can't fight Mother Nature, prepare to accept whatever weather she hands out. We have run through snow in Pennsylvania, wind in New Jersey, extreme heat in Kentucky, but our running resume lacks a~state~run in the rain. CIM in 2012 was a crazy wet run, but not my official California marathon for the 50 states. North Carolina does not disappoint with rain, it blesses us with glorious downpours throughout the course. The harder and longer it rains, the more I smile and scream in delight. Tropical warm rain is the best kind! I can honestly say New River Marathon is my absolute favorite race~the course is stunning and the people are genuinely kind.

Hubby has bib #50 so why am I not holding it for pic?

In the final planning stages, I ask my husband if he wants to finish our last state in October 2019 with Hartford, Connecticut~the most popular one in that state~or power through with some smaller races and finish in June 2019. Of course he says, "Lets get it done!" As schedules and arrangements fall into place, I fail to consider the ramifications of running abundant marathons in rapid succession may have on the body, but soon find out. Once the plan is set, our bodies have no choice but to follow reluctantly along, we are dead-set on accomplishing the goal. Weariness and injuries be damned. We join the gym in January in hopes of cross-training to reduce our mileage, but that backfires real quick. I end up injuring my knees with lunges just in time for the Big Beach redo state in late January. Apparently, running knees don't like lunges in any form. Next, I pull a muscle in my back rib using too much weight for an abdominal exercise. The pull results in one of the most painful injuries to run through at Savin Rock, CT. Yes, it did take~just as my doctor stated...six weeks to heal! My advice...don't join a gym within six months of completing the fifty states. "Stick with running...wait until after the goal is accomplished to start something new," I tell myself in perfect hindsight. I rest and recover, but the downtime leads to some lackluster marathon 

efforts during the remaining states. I  make it to the final start line with my back and knees intact, but just barely. Good thing they can still carry me in spite of the increase in belly fat on extra jiggly legs. Okay sorry! I can't write a marathon blog without some self-deprecation. 

The weather does not cooperate for a drive up to Grandfather Mountain's suspension bridge. The fog and rain cancel our plan to walk on the bridge which normally provides panoramic views of the Blue Ridge Mountains nor does it allow us to float down the river as planned on our free day before the marathon. Not to despair we find things to do, but mainly we snack. Maniac and fellow 50 Stater, Patti, talks about eating at Cracker Barrel on many of her marathon state trips. This being our last chance, we give it a try...turns out my mom and grandmother's southern cooking is still the best, but now we can check it off the "must do" list. We definitely indulge during most of our travels and I am not sure if that is good or a bad. It's a bad thing! Luckily, or maybe not so lucky, a Krispy Kreme

right next door to Cracker Barrel becomes a must stop. All I can say is thank goodness we do not have Krispy Kreme at home. With the "hot and now" sign illuminating, donuts become a pre-race carbohydrate loading fuel source. It turns out cold chocolate glazed is better than the plain hot glazed donuts. My knees and legs prefer I forgo the donuts and the added weight they cause, but what can I say...donuts win today. Maybe~with my delusional thinking~the extra sugar will fuel the numerous hills still to come. The rain puts a damper on our activities, but not our spirit and enthusiasm to finish the last state. The only thing of concern is the constant rain and lightning. The marathon officials put out a rain or shine statement. A delay or cancellation will be determined by the emergency management team in the event of severe weather only. By race morning the pouring rain turns into a light drizzle as we make our way to the "woodshed" extra early to get our bib and shirts and park at the bottom of the hill in the grass as directed. With a flight home right after the race I express my concern about getting stuck in the mud to my husband and one of the volunteers hears me and they allow us to move the car closer to the exit. The kindness we encounter from every volunteer and every person involved with the marathon makes it such a special event. I even run into a fellow 50 state runner, in the potty line, who I met one year ago to the day at the Hatfield and McCoy Marathon. Hey, John fun chatting with you again...enjoy your next 22 states! 

Marathon Winner!

Once the race is underway, it begins with a climb as we make our way up the driveway to the main road. Initially, I feel fatigued with a heaviness in my chest. Thursday's redo state in Tennessee leaves me with a tired body. The first few miles are the roughest miles of the day, but the beauty of the course and the excitement of running and completing the last state snaps me out of the momentary lull. I stop thinking and immerse myself in the moment, the river, the greenness and the beauty all around me until the need to pee becomes my primary focus. I seize an open potty around mile 3 just before the rain makes an appearance. Glad I stopped when I did because pulling up wet running pants is no fun. In North Carolina, it seems, rain falls in buckets...forget about sprinkles, just bring on the downpour. As the rain persists, I find myself smiling from ear to ear. No longer an old lady...I am a seven year old running through puddles. It is funny and great all at the same time. The lady behind me laughs when I scream and cheer the rain as it sloshes in our shoes. I pull out the poncho in my pocket and try to put it on, but it is so hot and suffocating that it goes right back in my pocket. Now don't get me wrong my delight, would be an entirely different story full of despair with cold rain!

I catch up with my husband after my stop and we run together until we reach the first muddy climb. We walk awhile together, but I choose to start running again and my husband elects to wait for the downhill portion of the muddy rocky mess to run. I catch up to Caroline from Durham as the downhill flattens out; it is her first marathon since 2001. It is nice to share a few miles chatting and the conversation pushes me to run faster to keep up. Her family greets her at the turnaround in Todd, NC and I pull ahead for a few miles until she passes me as I walk the steepest hill. Most runner's are locked into their set paces and spread out on the course. I leap frog with Caroline and a dad and daughter duo. I elect to walk the massive hill between miles 13-15 and power down the downhill portion with ease hitting every tangent as the course winds down the mountain. I cut into the curves hopeful not to come face to face with a car as I sail through the blind corners. I thank the people working at the rainy aid stations, who are all encouraging and ever so helpful. The people and the rain make it a magical day!

Caroline, the dad and daughter duo, and I, run as a pack until we reach another spectator section where hugs and high fives are dispensed by their families. I run alone for a long stretch of time passing only a few struggling runners. The miles fly by (no mile countdown necessary today) as I relish every last second of heaven on earth...cherishing every last mile of my 50th state!

I even look forward to the upcoming hills between mile 23-25. Runners are diverted off the main road straight into a muddy trail section where I am still all alone until I pass one lady who is walking through the mud. It is hard to pick a running path, mud sticks to my shoes in the ruts, but the grass is uneven and unstable in the middle. Even with the challenges, I am loving every last moment of the day. I catch up to a young runner who lets out a sigh when he sees the next hill. I encourage him to keep going...  

We run together for the remainder of the race. He wants to win a bet made between his buddies. He bet them he can finish under 4:45 and he doesn't think he can make it. I tell him he can do it. We work to get up that last cruel steep hill together with .7 to go and fight our way to the final downhill slope to the finish line. I tell him to go for it as soon as he makes the final turn and he finishes strong crushing his bet time by five minutes. Pay up guys...I wonder what he won? I too enjoy the downhill  and power my way to the final timing mat. 

As I sit under the finisher's tent, enjoying the delicious cookies and strawberries, he comes over and gives me a hug and thanks me for pushing him in the last two miles; it the icing on my marathon cake. After taking a minute to breathe I make the trek back up to the car and change out of my wet clothes. Parked two feet from the finishers' shoot, I am unable to wrangle out of my soaked sport bra without giving tired runners a shocking sight! Dry clothes with the exception of the bra with have to suffice. I walk back down in time to take a photo as my husband finishes and quickly check the results. Lo and behold, I win second in my age group. A nice lady comes up to me and offers to get my award so I can avoid the mud. She hands me a Christmas tree craved out of a tree stump. I shriek with glee...I had my eye on that prize, but wasn't sure it was possible. The race director, Ken, comes over and thanks us for choosing The New River as our 50th marathon. He and his team are so gracious and welcoming and honored we selected their race. The honor is entirely ours, we could not have asked for anything better. I get a picture with one of the guys who is out there all day directing cars and runners and helping push stuck cars out of the mud. You can't find a better example of the American spirit (kind, caring, genuine) than the people of Fleetwood, North Carolina. It restores my faith in humanity.

The drive to the airport is like our second marathon of the day. There isn't a second to spare. My husband changes in the car while I order some Chick Fil A. I am forced to speed all the way to the airport and we run (the 14 minute walk time) to the gate, boarding the plane just in the nick of time. United changed the flight time~two hours earlier than my original booking. I shouldn't have accepted the schedule change; in hindsight, but we really want to get home the same day! Thanks to every passenger who allowed us to cut in front of them in the security line...we make it home to sleep in our very own bed. We agreed to assume the persona of "Tigger and Pooh," the night before the race and no matter what happened~race cancellations, delays, missed flights, fatigue~there will be no negativity! We embrace the day with unbridled happiness and joy and it makes our last run "magical." Sometimes life is a fairy tale.

I am not sure if Kitty believes in fairy tales...she just doesn't care as long as the 50 states business is done and the focus is back on her comfort.

  

Marathon #49 Cincinnati, Ohio

Flying Pig Marathon

May 5th 2019

Who needs time to rest and recover when there is another marathon to run. Quiet down aching hamstrings...Flying Pig only has a few hills. One spin class and a three mile jog let's me know "the pig" will be a slow and painful race.  I regret the three mile run...when shooting pains radiate down through the back of my legs forcing me to walk home. No time to second guess the redo state last weekend there is a bag to pack, a red-eye flight to catch  and a "finish swine"  to cross.  On the bright side we only have a short forty minute drive to the airport along with an upgraded premium row to ourselves. It is a pleasant enough night flight once

the little boy behind me quits crying and kicking my seat. Another quick layover in Chicago has us on the ground in Northern Kentucky by 8:30 am and in our hotel bed by 10 am for a little nap thanks to Marriott's AC hotel taking pity upon us. Maybe nodding off in the hotel lobby expedited the cleaning process. It only takes us 49 states to figure out the best ways to maximize our travel experience. Even though my husband gets frisked by TSA at our small local airport, I love sitting at the gate less than sixty minutes after our garage door goes down. We have a birds-eye view from our hotel window as 10k runners cross the finish line. The hotel is perfectly situated

between the start, finish and expo making everything an easy walk. As we walk over to the expo there are still races underway. Downtown Cincinnati is full of people and the excitement of the weekend is palpable. In its 21st year the "Flying Pig Marathon" is a well oiled machine.  It is ranked high as one of the best races and I agree, it really is a great event and lots of fun. 

We spend two hours at the expo walking around collecting all the goodies and freebies, soaking in the experience. Still sleep deprived we elect to eat our only meal of the day at Jefferson Social on the way back to the hotel. It is on bar row just outside the baseball stadium and one of the closest places to our hotel.  A burger will have to fuel my run. We stagger back to the hotel and collapse.  All race preparations will take place in the morning. With the elevator in close proximity I fear a noisy sleepless night, but sleep wins out only the fireworks from the night baseball game wakes me momentarily.  Still recovering from the hellishly, hot downhill run last weekend...my body does not fight sleep, thankfully.  In fact, I am in no hurry to get up and get ready for the hellishly hilly "Flying Pig" marathon,

but we can't help but join in on the madness just outside our window. Runners scurrying to the start near the Bengal's football stadium. The only thing rolling through my mind is...will I be able to run and will I be able to finish under five hours? Most days I take my body for granted, but today it is letting me know it needs to be treated extra kindly. As we take our place in Corral C next to the 3:50 pacer we both laugh at my ambition. Eight months ago when I signed up that time was plausible, today it is only laughable especially as I gingerly step closer and closer to the start on unstable legs. With each step my legs warn me not to push too hard or they will be forced to respond accordingly with sharp seizing pain. My brain reminds me of the shrieking hamstring pain in 2015 at mile 21 of the Two Cities Marathon when I had to employ a funny skip style run to make it to the finish. Okay legs...it will be slow and steady...no funny stuff today! 

With a flash of warm fire shooting out of the start line banner we begin the long trek. Hopefully, I will see the finish line in less than five hours without too much...anguish! Within the first mile we leave Ohio and run over the bridge leading into Kentucky.

My pace is very conservative as both hamstrings are clenched in tight balls. I fight to find a comfortable speed to keep them happy. It is fun to be among excited runners ready to put their training to the test. There is a lot of electric excited energy~horses chomping at the bit raring to go~at the beginning of every marathon and today is no exception. Well except for a few old grey mares~like myself~who are ready to be back at the barn!

I try to soak up the enthusiasm to propel my banged up body through the miles. The field of runners is good sized and the volunteers are very supportive and positive. If ever I need a marathon with lots of cheering crowds it is now. People along the way want to help with offerings of cookies, bacon, licorice, ice pops, beer, pickles, mimosas, music, signs, Elvis, a juggler and constant encouragement.  Thanks guys for the...BEER!

I take the beer and the constant encouragement as my fuel. By mile five my hamstrings are warmed up and the fear of them seizing up subsides into a subdued soreness.  It is a nice compromise, a slow and steady pace in exchange for a more comfortable pain in

What my Internal Mental Battle looks like...

the back of my thighs. I will take it.  In the first few miles I fear the muscles will balk and force me to walk or even stop, but with a few miles under my belt I work to reach milestones: 6 miles, double digits, halfway, single digits, to the final countdown~the finish.  There are lots of distractions along the way, but unfortunately when the body is worn out and damaged from the start it's a long freaking way to run. I limp the six tenths back to the hotel yesterday and now I expect myself to run 26.2 miles. Sometimes, I question my thinking. It is a constant battle between common sense and insanity. However; when your own mother says, "You can't stop now you are too close you have to finish!" I keep going. The last five miles I force myself to keep running in order to get my time. My slow pace is hard to maintain, but I must keep the legs in run motion even though walking would probably be faster.  I only walk on the steepest of inclines. When a football is placed in my hands, I toss it over a fence attempting to make a basket. I fail miserably and exert too much energy as it sails over the fence. I forgo throwing a basketball at the next station saving what little energy is left! The people of Ohio are incredibly encouraging especially in the last miles. It's a fun and busy time with the Kentucky Derby, baseball games, a concert along with the shenanigans of the marathon events all taking place in the same weekend! Even the bartender at the restaurant is exhausted and ready to go home...

All the volunteers are called "grunts" and cheer every runner all the way to the finish. As downtown Cincinnati comes into view I can't wait to get to the finish line. There isn't any "get up and go" left in me, but the finish line announcer is loud and enthusiastically announces my name and city pulling me in as I complete the marathon. It takes a few minutes bent over to catch my breath before I can even think of moving on to collect my medal. They ask if I need assistant and I tell them I am good it is just my new "normal" when finishing lately.  As soon as I cross I am ready to drop and in need of time hunched over to recover! When I see other runners sitting on the tables, I do too! The thought of sitting on the curb is unappealing ~who will be there to pull me up, but the table as Goldilocks says..."is just right" to be able to stand again after a bit of rest.

I spot someone with pizza and immediately seek out a hot slice.  They actually cook it on the spot making it extra delicious. Just what I need~ don't worry my fat cells will make room. My husband crosses behind me and takes a seat on the table while I grab pizza for him too. The free beer is too far to walk to and we elect to go straight back to the hotel. A two pm checkout gives us plenty of time to shower and pack up.  The hotel graciously allows us to leave the car parked while we grab lunch before a fun baseball game between the Cincinnati Reds and my husband's team the San Francisco Giants.  The weather is great for relaxing all afternoon at the ball park.  I am not much of a baseball fan, but it is the best day to sit and recover in the warmth of the stadium...The Giants win 6-5 making it a perfect late afternoon activity. 

After the game we check into a hotel in Kentucky and crash the rest of the evening. Well, after we rush back over the bridge to the other hotel to retrieve a bag I left behind next to where the car was parked when I was searching for the misplaced pig medal. Luckily the valet asks, "Are you looking for a bag" and quickly ends my misery. The bag contained two new pairs of glasses. It is never a dull moment with me in toe. Now bring on the post marathon aches. The price for 26.2 miles of fun is pure pain. Shockingly, we both sleep until ten in the morning. It is so dark in the room, I think it is super early. The much needed rest prepares us for a day at the zoo. We hear it is one of the "best in the nation" but it seems like an average zoo to me. We sample the mini chili dogs with heaping grated cheese at "Skyline Chili dogs" before the zoo. A staple of Cincinnati, but I find them to be average as well.  It is fun to see Fiona and her mom. She is not little anymore either! After our little zoo excursion we hit the hot tub. It is just what my aching feet need. After one final night we sample Graters ice cream another staple of the area before our flight home. Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but we breezed out of the airport and sailed home in no time at all. Sorry I-5 and LAX, I don't miss you. The prospects of pulling it all together~recovering and properly preparing for our final trip and final state in four weeks is unlikely. I hope to spend my time eating healthy and healing my body, but somehow I have my doubts about that...

I have a lot in common with Fiona... the lazy lounger!

And her Mom (the hungry hippo)...always ready to eat!!

Redo State #4 Mt. Charleston, Nevada

April 27th 2019

The task of redoing Nevada is my crazy hair-brained idea while frenziedly ripping through the states last year. The goal to complete every marathon in under five hours seems more than reasonable! I signed us up last May as we pounded our way through 2018 completing 16 marathons and completely unraveling by year's end! Who can pass up the chance to run a Revel Marathon known for notoriously fast courses...and Mt Charleston with a 5000 feet drop in elevation down 

the mountain into Las Vegas? My ambition turns out...is more ambitious than my body. Who knew that the year's progression of 2018 would go from great to good...to oh my gosh, to finally, present day, oh heck no! 

Race starts at 7,500 feet elevation...snow capped mountain sighting from the Vegas floor!

The 50 state goal began in 2012 during a time of transition. Our daughter was away at college and a job transfer led to mindless munching. Deal or distract...we chose distraction, but eventually everyone is forced to deal!

My body weight outwardly reflected all the changes. State #4 and #5 were rough marathons and my husband graciously agreed to each redo state granting me the opportunity to feel better about the overall experience. Funny how life has a way of circling back. Going into the final redemption state I feel much the same as I did back in 2012~a time of transition~another crossroad as life unfolds and decisions on what to do next. I let the first four months of 2019 mindlessly slip by and yet in other ways I guess I needed some downtime to figure out my next steps and allow my body to heal from the wounds of running. Even though I have slowed...time itself is fleeting and too easily wasted.  I want to scream...wait for me, but there is no wait!  

My last five mile training run is fueled and inspired by Angie and Trevor's Marathon Training Academy podcast with Ryan Hall. He is the fastest American male to ever run the marathon 2:04:58 at Boston in 2011 earning him 4th place. He is a two time Olympian, the only American to run sub 2:05 and yet he never won a major marathon. He also is the first American to break an hour (59:43) in the half marathon in 2007. In his new book "Run the Mile You're In," he shares his wisdom on failure, comparison and~heart~goals! 

A Godly man, the message on the podcast is just what I need to hear...Don't compare yourself to others, don't compare yourself to your previous self, forget about past failures...have a goal of the heart something you have the power to accomplish. Something you can accomplish every time you are on the start line...i.e. thankfulness, patience, gratitude.  Just keep getting back up every time you fall and continue moving forward competition doesn't need to be about beating everyone else... Running the fourth fastest time in 120 years at the Boston marathon did not win the race, but he felt like he won because he got the best out of himself. Although Ryan Hall never earned the distinction (adulation) of winning a major like Meb, Shalane, Des and all the greats that came before, he is just as great in my book...he knows himself and he knows he is special. It is not about beating others; 'personal excellence' is "winning" getting the maximum effort out of ourselves is the true win. Comparison only leads to unnecessary disappointment. 

Horses near the start of the race

I find the advice helpful...I can't be what I was before, but I can be the best version of me today considering all my aches, pains and current fitness level. According to Hall,"The proper job description of a marathon runner is pain manager." No truer words...my hobby hurts today due to an improper buildup, but I am ready to embrace the discomfort of Mt. Charleston. It won't~I can guarantee~be my best time, but it will be a best effort for today. I have the power to set my goal...and my goal is to run with heart and gratitude.

Before I was obsessed with running I was obsessed with Fresno State Basketball coached by "Tark"

With my goals set and expectations realigned I am actually excited about marathon #94. Maybe not as excited as getting a picture with Jerry Tarkanian in Vegas years ago. At the time Fresno State Basketball (1995-2002) was just a TINY obsession of mine when Tark was coaching! Although I am not excited about driving for six hours to get to Vegas, it never loses its appeal if the clogged roads are any indication. Upon arrival we hit the expo first thing. Boy, is it hot as we exit the car at the Thomas Mack Center! I am shocked to see a Jerry Tarkanian statue outside the basketball arena. Other people wonder what is in his mouth~obviously too young to

know Tark and his towel~but it takes me back to a more innocent time in life. It is nice to see him honored at UNLV where he spent most of his career, but I fondly remember him for the few years of excitement he brought to the Central Valley. Pizza for dinner on game night and "a nobody better bug me warning" during the game. Going to basketball games when Chris Harren played was a highlight much like the older "tamer" me gets excited watching Shalane win in New York and Des win at Boston. The expo turns into a fun stop with helpful volunteers as we wander and secure our bibs and shirts before eating our meal of the day. No surprise...we have pizza before arriving at the hotel. With a 2 a.m. wake up call, we soak in the hot tub before going to sleep. 
Sleep goes well until 1:45 a.m. when generator noise wakes me up.  I don't even try to go back to sleep and rest while waiting for the alarm. We elect to stay a few miles from

the bus pick-up location in Summerlin, a suburb of Vegas. Parking and bus loading is a super fast and easy process. We are on the bus by 3:20 a.m. Generally chilly 7,500 feet up at the Mt. Charleston Lodge, the marathon start, today it is unseasonable warm on the desert floor. The gloves and heat sheet provided are unnecessary especially since most runners pleasantly wait inside the lodge. We sit in the chairs used to block the restrooms for the next hour and a half and use the outside potties before the majority of runners arrive. We wait too long to get in line for a second round and end up missing the race start by seven minutes~better to run with an empty bladder. No need to fret with chip timing. As we make our way through the empty corrals, we are among the very last runners to cross the start line. Nothing like starting at the back of the pack...hopefully it gives us a boost passing runners as we get underway, but my legs feel like concrete blocks. Well, this is going to be rough I tell myself as I gasp for air. The elevation is making the first climb more than challenging. I am expecting hard, but come on...not this hard. My new prescription sunglasses are not fitting correctly, my never before worn running pants start to chaff and my lower back is already aching. Thankfully, it is not the back rib pain that plagued me in Connecticut and prevented me from running with my husband during his Massachusetts's state  

marathon in early April. The steep downward slope must be putting tension on my lower back due to a weak core. Even though I grumble under my breath for the first few miles, eventually I settle in to focus on the moment and the mission and zoom down the mountain way faster than I should. I will pay later. Limited slow training miles should slow my roll...but it doesn't. The early miles are in the 8's and even a 7 which is bound to spell disaster in the final miles. By the time I reach the loop at mile 5 (which includes a short climb) I almost catch the 3:50 pace group and they started 7 minute before me. The 10K text says...projected 3:45 finish pace. (I did not look at my phone with each of my projected finish times until recovering in the medical tent.) I remember reading the first eight miles are super fast and decide to power through those miles playing it by ear from there on out. Probably should slow down, probably would make the last miles more bearable, but why use good judgement when you can use bad judgement. The slope is beckoning and I relent. After rolling up my pant legs and tucking my glasses into my sport bra, I pull my hat down blocking the powerful sun rising in our eyes as we hammer down the hill. I run among determined runners going for PR's and BQ's. There is no time for talk the mood around me is oozing with effort. I miss the first water station when the volunteer's fingers do not let loose of her grip on the cup. I should stop to grab another water, but charge ahead instead~fatal error! The water stations are approximately every two miles or more and on a hot day fluid is extra important. I vow to drink more at the next aid station as the heat inches its way up, but my first fluid intake is at mile 5.

The first half rolls along in 1:53:44. I am still feeling pretty good. Now, the second half countdown begins...one mile at a time as the terrain becomes monotonous warm desert highway and barren landscapes. At mile 14 I talk with two runners from Utah who are here to accomplish a goal...to break four hours. My Two Cities pacer shirt elicits a few questions about pacing. It is their third attempt at breaking the elusive sub 4 marathon. I tell them they are definitely on pace if they can maintain through the final miles. They say they did not push too hard during the early miles which is a key factor. As I stop to drink and take a pain reliever, they pull ahead looking strong at mile 16. Hopefully they make their goal. The second half is a challenge for me~no surprise~considering my training. The focus is to get to mile twenty and maintain a ten minute pace to the finish, but by mile twenty it gets tough. 

It is unusually hard~I must walk kind of hard~I never walk (accept today) in the last six miles if I can help it...slow down considerably, yes, but never walk. By mile 23 I am still on pace to finish in 3:58 according to the text anyway, but the goal,  

undeniably, will not occur today. In fact, a fleeting worry crosses my mind~will I break five hours...the only reason we are here today! I am an extremely slow walker and if I walk the remainder of the way I won't make it. I must barter and bargain with myself to keep going in the last few miles. The second half of the race is hot and my mouth is so dry I can't generate enough saliva to lick my lips. The water stops can't come soon enough and are spaced too far apart. A few of the water tables run out of cups and we drink straight from the jugs. At one station I pick up a cup off of the ground and tell them to pour. I am that desperate. I employ a run a tenth, walk a tenth strategy. I want to run, but with no power or strength in my legs I can't make myself go. The heat and fatigue has me feeling dizzy and a tad spacey, but mainly lack of fitness is getting me today. At one of the last aid stations cold rags are given out and remains around my neck tucked under my hat almost to the end. 

I don't even try to run for the camera or hide my anguish. It is the longest three miles! I count the orange cones... run for ten...walk for ten. Smart runners who maintain an even pace fly past me as I do the death march with other struggling runners. I can't help but think about Nick Bernard's blog post leading up to the marathon. After a long absence from running he blogged his thoughts on Emil Zatopek's quote who famously told the runners at the 1956 Olympic marathon start, "Men, today we die a little." I can't say it any better than Nick, "That quote sums up my expectations, I have no doubt that I will finish, but I also have no doubt that it is going to hurt, A LOT." I  wholeheartedly agree with Nick, I too am "dying a little" and it hurts a lot," I just didn't know I would die so much and hurt quite so bad! By mile 25 I know I will beat my time goal~even if I walk the entire last mile, but I do not allow myself the pleasure of walking. I run as much of the final mile as possible. The mile 26 marker is a happy sighting with a slight bonus downhill dip. I power through to the finish line and end up sitting in a wheelchair. The wonderful girls at the end are so helpful. Once I assure them I am okay they help me move to a regular chair. A medical volunteer hands me a medal along with water, power aide, and chocolate milk. I spend forty minutes recovering in the medical tent. Although it is 87 degrees at the finish, it is my lack of conditioning and pushing too hard in the early miles that cause "my death" in the final miles. It has been a long time since I have  

bonked this bad, but still manage to knock off an hour and twenty minutes from my previous Nevada time thanks to the super fast downhill course. A sub four marathon is very possible for this race on a trained and prepared day, but I relish my under-trained and hard earned 4:08:46 even with an eight hour drive home~due to traffic and accidents~on extremely stiff and sore legs. The Utah guys finish just over four hours...keep fighting guys you will get it next time. The beauty of the marathon...there is always another one and always a chance at redemption!