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!