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!