State Number 28 - Kansas City Marathon

State Number 28 – Kansas City Marathon,

Kansas City, MO

15 October 2016

 

I hate running, but I love running, too!  Call it the yin and yang of the sport, if you will.  There’s a lot to love – but there’s also a lot to hate. 

I hate the limping.  You know, plantar fasciitis, groin, hamstring, chafing and the occasional knee and ankle injuries.  The only time I don’t limp is when I run.  After pounding out eight or ten miles before heading off to work, the concomitant muscle tightness and plantar pain is the underlying cause of my noticeable limp as I wander about my work place.  The use of handrails seems to be pretty much the norm as I descend down a flight of stairs.

Co-workers always seem to comment, “You must have run this morning.”

“I did.  How can you tell?” I ask.   

I hate all those training runs.  I hate getting up early only to drive fifteen miles for an hour of hill training, the intervals, running in the heat, rain, cold, fog, but I have to admit, those cold crisp and frosty mornings are the best.  In inclement weather, it seems only sensible people are inside comfy and cozy while we runners are crazy.

I hate the sweating during and after a run.  I guess my metabolism could be likened to a coal burning furnace.  It doesn’t matter whether it’s sub-freezing or not, I sweat – and sweat profusely to the point sweat drips off the bill of my cap like rain off the eaves of a house.  My shirts are soaked.  Even after a shower, I continue to sweat.  Walking into my office still dripping, coupled with any limping, isn’t what I call fun.

I hate it when I’m out for a training run when I close in on a runner ahead of me and they seem to pick up the pace only to stay one-step ahead.  Look, I’m not racing.  If you want to race, sign up for one and we’ll do it then.  Maybe I’ll cheer you on as I wait at the finish line.

I hate that drivers don’t pay attention to pedestrians.  Since all drivers tend to look for on-coming traffic, I prefer to run with traffic, like cyclists.  That way as I approach a driveway or cross street, the driver has a better chance of seeing me.  I’ve been very lucky over the years to have not been hit by a moving vehicle (I’ve had some close encounters, though).  For that, I count my blessings.

I hate the post-marathon blues.  As the excitement of completing another marathon wears off, coming back to reality can come back with a vengeance.  To combat that feeling, finding and signing up for another marathon seems to be just the stimulant and pick-me-up to remedy such blues.

On the flip side, I love it when I complete a marathon by training only 25 miles a week with only a 13-mile long run, and feel good afterwards.

I love the camaraderie of other runners and the support volunteers and spectators provide at marathons.  Their uplifting spirit and support provide me with much needed energy when my tank is running low.

I love the feeling of endorphins (endogenous morphine) passing through my circulatory system and the accompanying runner’s high I experience after a good run.

I love the delight and exhilaration of victory I feel after conquering a tough double marathon.

The id, ego and superego all seem to collaborate in creating this behavior we call marathoning.  The id creates the demands and the source of my want to complete another marathon; the ego adds the needs of reality while the superego adds morality to the actions I take during a marathon.

We runners are constantly balancing the likes and dislikes, and the pros and cons of our sport.  Since I really do, deep down, love running, yet I hate it, too.  It’s time to lace up my shoes for another marathon…or two.

We left our humble place of abode just before midnight on 13 October for our now habituated drive to LAX.  Traffic on the normally congested San Diego Freeway (I-405) was eerily light in the pre-dawn hours which allowed us to arrive at LAX’s Lot C near record time.  During the next couple of hours, a quick nap in the car gave us the oomph needed to catch our 0615 Southwest Airlines non-stop 3-hour flight to Kansas City International Airport (MCI).

Our late morning arrival in the Show Me State welcomed us with cool overcast skies with periods of drizzle.  The size of MCI terminals were smaller than I had expected and the rather compact size provided a quick exit to the airport’s ground transportation stops where we caught a shuttle bus to the rental car facility located a few miles from the terminal.

We joined a small gathering of people waiting for the bus.  Upon the bus’ arrival, it was already partially crowded with passengers picked up at the preceding stop.  As we boarded, the bus quickly filled up to standing room only.  Of course it didn’t help with the excess baggage passengers were bringing aboard.  As the crowded bus pulled forward through the terminal area, instead of just passing by the upcoming stops like most drivers do, this driver actually stopped and informed awaiting passengers to watch for the next bus since hers was full, which I found to be a thoughtful gesture. 

Following the quick in and out of the rental car facility, it was time for lunch.  Metropolitan Kansas City is home to some Pizza Ranch franchise locations.  With that said, we decided to satiate our appetites with a salad, soup, BBQ and/or a pizza buffet – and most importantly, the dessert strudel buffet and soft-serve ice cream.

After our fulfilling lunch, we dashed over to Independence to visit the Harry Truman Library.  Dedicated in 1957, the two story building showcases Truman’s life and his presidency through artifacts, writings, photos and films.  The courtyard area encloses the graves, blanketed with chrysanthemums, of Truman; his wife, Bess; their daughter, Margaret, and her husband Clifton.  The library, dedicated under Masonic Rites, was the first of thirteen to be built under the 1955 Presidential Libraries Act.

A replica of the Oval Office is a popular feature of the library exemplifying how President Truman adorned his presidential office.  Several years ago, I had the honor of visiting the Ronald Reagan Library which also features a replica of the Oval Office during Reagan’s tenure as president.  Restaging the Oval Office must be a common feature with the presidential libraries.

After our educational tour of Truman’s library, that last item on our itinerary was to pay a visit to Kauffman and Arrowhead Stadiums.  Situated on the south side of I-70 just east of I-435, the two stadiums are home to KC’s Royals and Chiefs, respectively.  Unfortunately, with baseball being in the off-season and the Chiefs in Oakland fighting it out with the Raiders during marathon weekend, seeing an NFL game was out of question. 

Now, it was on to the marathon’s host hotel in Crown Center for check in.  It was approaching the afternoon peak traffic time, so traffic on I-70 into downtown was becoming heavy.

Due to a set of unforeseen challenges, like geospatial perception and course-plotting indicative with GPS navigation in unfamiliar territory, let’s just say we ended up at downtown’s Crowne Plaza Hotel.  We carted our luggage down through the parking structure and into the lobby, only to find out we were at the wrong hotel.  The desk clerk kindly gave us a key card to avoid paying parking charges and said it happens a lot.  With some directions, we found the correct hotel.

Recreation of the Oval Office

Once we settled in at our intended destination at the Crown Center, it was on to the marathon expo held at the hotel’s exhibit hall for our packet pick-up.  The expo was organized, but not too large and bib pick-up was fast and easy.  Also, since we were accepting the I-35 Challenge, we were presented with a backpack featuring the challenge’s embroidered logo on the front.

The Kansas City Marathon was the first of the popular I-35 Challenge.  The second marathon took place approximately three hours north up I-35 in Iowa’s capital city, Des Moines just twenty five hours later.



Replica of the Liberty Bell outside library.  Truman stood here in 1964.

Truman's office as it existed on the date of his death in 1972

In front of Arrowhead Stadium

General George Patton once said, “Accept the challenges so that you may feel the exhilaration of victory.”  While not everyone is up for a challenge, my wife and I did accept the voluntary I-35 Challenge even after completing a tough double marathon weekend in New England just two weeks prior.  The challenge usually sells out each year, so we registered well enough in advance to secure our place.

 

I looked forward to the challenge, even though I read on the marathon’s websites that the courses are generally hilly in nature, so my strategy was to go out slow and easy for each marathon.  Like the Book of Hebrews declares, I plan to run the races of my life with courage, with boldness, with strength, and most of all, with victory.

Since we were a hotel Rewards Club member, we were treated with a spacious room on the secured 23^rd floor with a panoramic view of the Kansas City skyline and the downtown skyscrapers.  The nighttime view with all the lights was especially striking.

The thought of tackling two more marathons was approaching our intellectual capacities, but we had no choice.  We begrudgingly donned our running attire early Saturday morning and headed for the start line on Grand Blvd, about one block from our hotel.  As we left the building, the warm and sultry air suddenly hit me.  It was overcast and very humid with a dew point hovering in the lower 60s.  As long as the sun didn’t show itself from behind the cloud cover, I was going to be fine.  But, if the sun came out, I would be in for a miserable day.

Contrary to the New Hampshire Marathon, my Garmin watch booted up and obtained satellite coverage within a few minutes.  Yay!  I turned it on about twenty minutes before start time just in case.  Due to the unpredictability of this watch, there were no guarantees for Des Moines.  After the singing of the National Anthem as daylight was breaking, the horn sounded through the thick sticky Kansas City air and a crowd of 6000 runners began their 13.1 or 26.2-mile journey.

On hilly courses, I view the hills analogous to Newton’s Third Law of Motion, if there’s an up – then there’s a down, and vice versa.  Immediately, the course started out with a gradual downhill gradient.  The short-lived downhill suddenly turned to an uphill gradient towards Hospital Hill.  Immediately I thought if this is any indication, I will be in for a tough day.

The marathon organizers assembled a large contingent of pace teams for both races.  I decided that I would stick with the 2:20 half marathon pace group at the start and would join the 4:40 group after the half split at Marathon Mile 7.  No, I did not see the famous shuttlecock structures on the grounds of the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art while running down Emanuel Cleaver II Blvd by the way.  If I would have known about them, I would have positioned myself in the large crowd of runners to obtain a visual on the art work.

The temptation to increase my pace overshadowed the resistance to.  I guess I didn’t listen to my inner voice.  My pace increased, and before I knew it, I was nearing the 4:10 group.  I thought, “Oh well, I’ll hang on for as long as I can and rejoin the 4:40 group if they approach me.”  Now that’s positive thinking.

Just past Marathon Mile 2, runners were treated with a view of the National World War I Museum and Memorial as we passed through Penn Valley Park.  Apparently, it is one of the most popular sites to visit in Kansas City.

Marathon Miles 2 through 10 were relatively flat.  I called it the calm before the storm.  Beginning at Marathon Mile 10, runners were treated to the challenge of the first significant hill.  The run through the Sunset Hill area consisted of a sustained gradient of around 3-4 percent.  The scenery of the beautiful mansions fronting broadleaf tree-lined streets through the stately district took my mind off the grueling trek up Sunset Drive.  To conserve energy, I walked lengthy sections of the hill, and I was still ahead of the 4:20 pace group.  I heard some runners grumbling about the climb, but were reassured by those who have run this course that this was the toughest part and a nice downhill awaited runners into Loose Park.  Whether that was the toughest part is up for debate.

While looping around Loose Park, shortly after Marathon Mile 12, my wife, running with the 4:20 pace group, caught up with me.  Although beginning to fatigue, I managed to keep up with the group for a half mile or so.  As long as I was ahead of the 4:40 group, I was happy.

Soon after the pace group charged ahead and left me to my own volition, my body was demanding some acetaminophen and caffeine to take the edge off the anticipated discomfort that lied ahead.  At the next water station, I went to retrieve two capsules I had in my belt left over from Maine.  While salvaging them, they flipped out of my wet slippery fingers and onto the pavement ricocheting in different directions.  I didn’t have the desire nor the motivation to bend over and try to find them on the waterlogged street contaminated with who knows what.  I was committed to gut out this marathon – pain or no pain.

The dew point didn’t seem to change much over the preceding two hours, and the clouds were still blocking the sunlight.  I was drenched in sweat compelling me to take in needed liquids and electrolytes at each water station for proper hydration.  I was grateful the sun wasn’t shining.

The ensuing 7-8 miles were generally pretty flat with a few minor rolling hills.  Considering my consistent pace, I was still ahead of the 4:40 group and was eyeing a 4:35 finish – until just after Marathon Mile 20.

At that point, an unpleasant substantial hill suddenly loomed.  Over the next couple of miles, I had to resign myself to walk most of it.  It wasn’t long when the 4:30 group passed by – then the 4:40 group caught me.  That was my opportunity to join the group consisting of five runners; however, I struggled to keep pace climbing the hill and finally gave in.  My 4:35 and 4:40 finish times quickly flew out the window. 

Given my low energy level, and the fact that my troublesome left adductor muscle was beginning to annoy me, my next goal was to finish in under five hours.  I had to do it!  For some reason, the five-hour mark is a psychological barrier for me.  The final stretch between Marathon Miles 25 and 26 were difficult.  I grabbed a wash rag soaked in ice water at an aid station for a quick cold refreshment break needed to light the fire inside me to finish this thing.  I squeezed out the cold water over my head and neck and washed my salt-crusted face and arms.  Perfect!  Now, let’s go!

FINISH at last!

At approximately the Marathon Mile 25.5 mark, I heard a woman telling runners they have “one mile to go.”  I checked my watch, that statement was obviously incorrect.  I overheard a runner behind me say in a loud boisterous obnoxious voice, “My watch says I have a half mile to go.  So don’t tell me I have a mile to go!”  Ouch!  He needn’t behave that way to someone making efforts to encourage and support all the runners.  My supposition is that after a hard day running, his patience was wearing a little thin.  Understandably, he wanted everyone to know his desire to finish.  Considering the course ran long, maybe she was right it was almost a mile.  I wouldn’t be the one to tell him that though.

I would guess the signature feature of the course would be the uphill homestretch to the finish.  Yes, the race finished with a dispiriting uphill climb.  When I saw the hill approaching, I felt deflated.  I had hoped to finish strong, but I had zero energy to run the last tenth of a mile or so.  I walked most of the gradient; but for the best part, the last 50 yards were flat so I burned up the remaining fuel in my tank to look good for the finish line photo.

I finished the KC Marathon in a time of 4:50:10 for an 11:04 per mile pace.

Age graded score: 48.66%

Age graded time: 4:20:39

Although I didn’t meet my goal of 4:35 or 4:40, I was content with my time, and mindful of the fact that I had to run another marathon the next day.

My number one priority was to receive my hard-earned finisher’s medal.  I was impressed with the size, design, and the actual mass of the medal.  I got to have my bling. 

I didn’t have a whole lot of time to walk through the finish line festivities for some beer, pizza or whatever, so I gathered up some water, chocolate milk, whole wheat bagel (which I kept to consume for Des Moines), some fruit, and shuffled back to the room for a quick shower before check-out.  The hotel’s customary check-out time is 1200; however, because of the marathon event, they looked past that deadline and gave runners an unofficial check-out time of 1400 hours.

I was, to a great extent, in need of a 1000 mg dose of acetaminophen as a way of taking the edge off the major foot and leg discomfort.  On the eve of race day, my wife discovered we forgot to pack our pain relievers.  I toughed it out and waited until we found a store on our way to Des Moines.  It was apparent a new pair of running shoes was in my immediate future.  That was confirmed in Des Moines.

In my humble opinion, for what it’s worth, I thought the KC Marathon was the perfect size.  The spectators and support volunteers were fun, helpful and supportive.  The numerous bands, DJs, and musicians provided plenty of entertainment throughout the course.  On a side note, I did run across several dead (roadkill) rabbits on the KC streets.  Hmm, I wonder if rabbits are commonplace in KC.

With this being my first official visit to Kansas City, I feel that the course provides runners a beautiful journey through the city (Sunset Hills, Waldo, Paseo, Ward Parkway, and downtown).  As a so-called flatlander whose hill training is somewhat limited, I welcomed the hills even though one could infer I did not enjoy them.

Making the left turn off 18^th Street onto Grand Boulevard is analogous to making the famous left turn off Hereford onto Boylston Street at the Boston Marathon.  With the finish line banner seen in the distance, runners must be cognizant to pace themselves accordingly.  Being so close to the finish, it is an alluring temptation to push hard, but it’s a long way.  Fortunately, I found that the final uphill grade forces runners to slow down until the short flat to the finish line.

I loved the scenic beauty of the course, seeing the various neighborhoods and regions of Kansas City, finishing and the thrill of victory that comes with a marathon; but I did not love the anguish, drudgery, sweat and agony it took to run the course.  Through all the aches, pains, likes and dislikes, and the thrill of checking off another state, it was a gratifying experience to complete the first half of the I-35 challenge.  Now, it was off to Des Moines, Iowa for the toughest and hardest-hitting part of the challenge.  Based on what I had read, the Des Moines Marathon is just as hilly, if not, more…so the Challenge continues. 

“Once a government is committed to the principle of silencing the voice of opposition, it has only one way to go, and that is down the path of increasingly repressive measures, until it becomes a source of terror to all its citizens and creates a country where everyone lives in fear.” – Harry Truman

State Number 29 - Des Moines Marathon

State Number 29 – Des Moines Marathon,

Des Moines, IA

16 October 2016

In the pre-dawn hours of a cool September morning while out running hills, I suddenly felt a minor cramp-like pain in my left hamstring after three miles into at least a ten mile run I had planned.  It wasn’t the tough it out, run through it and maybe it would go away type discomfort – it was the type that would only get worse.  I had a tough double marathon weekend coming up and didn’t want to jeopardize injuring myself to the point of not being able to complete the two runs.  I’ve learned the hard way a few years ago.  So, I judiciously decided to walk three miles back to my car and call it a day.

My casual walk up and down six to eight percent road grades gave me the time to think and reflect about many things as the sun began to rise over the crest of the Sierra-Nevada Mountain Range.  I, without a doubt, wanted to run the hills and it killed me to walk while watching others run by me.

My hill training area is a very popular destination for cyclists, walkers and runners which brings me to my point.  I quickly observed many walkers and runners completely tuned into their mobile devices with their heads down not paying much attention where they were going.  I would say, “good morning” as people would pass, but would not receive a response back – yes, some did.  It only served as an indication that these mobile devices seem to be killing face-to-face interactions.

There is a special quality about face-to-face interactions.  You can catch expressions, subtle tones in voices, whether they are happy, sad, pissed off at the world or whatever else they’re feeling.  It’s so unfortunate in today’s world that such interactions are becoming a thing of the past as texting, instant messaging, Facebook, Instagram and emails start consuming more and more of our time. 

For the younger generation, Millennials in particular, having some type of device, whether it's a smartphone or iPod, in hand at the ready must be the default mode while taking to the roads, meaning less chance of conversing with people whom they encounter.  Being of the late Baby Boom generation, I do own a smartphone and use it, but only when I need it for a specific purpose.

Perhaps it’s the unwritten rule of the current generation that checking text messages, taking a selfie or updating their Instagram account is more important than their current environs.  We are devaluing our surroundings and settings at an alarming rate for something going on elsewhere.  The U.S. Forest Service television and radio ad spot says it all, “Unplug”.  See and enjoy the forest once in a while.  Stop and smell the roses.  People needn’t be afraid of “missing out”.

I think the same can be said about running marathons.  Too many people I encounter have ear buds crammed into their ears with music blaring so loud it can be easily heard by neighboring runners.  I remember the days when a runner could easily strike up a conversation with another.  But nowadays, speaking with another runner seems to become an inconvenience to them.  That person must reach up and pull out their ear buds and reply, “What?” or “Pardon me?”  My first thought is, “Sorry I’m distracting you from your music!” 

Yes, there are a few individuals, I included, that do not don ear buds nor headphones.  I can, and do, enjoy running without my favorite music, email, Facebook, texting or selfies for a few hours.  I appreciate the sights and sounds of a race, the energy cheering spectators provide and casual conversations with others.  A conversation does make the time and miles pass by more quickly while getting an opportunity to know someone else with the possibility of becoming a new friend or social contact.  The Des Moines Marathon was certainly no exception to the aforementioned unwritten rule.

The Des Moines Marathon was the second marathon of the I-35 Challenge coinciding with the Marathon Maniac reunion.  Having never been to the Hawkeye State, I perceived the drive up I-35 through the rural Iowa landscape comparable to Hee Haw’s Kornfield Kounty, in the meantime, listening to Charlie Farquharson deliver the news, with a witty delivery, on KORN radio.  It was quite the contrary.  The topography of the countryside was made up of rolling hills, cornfields (of course), silos and various other farmland crops, with a scattering of various broad leaf trees.

When we left Kansas City, we were both in need of some pain relievers to suppress the achiness of tired muscles, joints and foot pain associated with running 26+ miles.  However, as I sat idle in the car, the stiffness and achiness seemed to disappear as if I had never run – until I had to step out of the car.  Ouch!

Once leaving the metro KC area, northbound drivers on I-35 enter a vast rural region of Missouri.  Several small communities dot the landscape on the I-35 corridor affording drivers with an escape from the sometimes wearisome interstate driving.  The post-marathon hunger was finally setting in, so we stopped in one of those small communities, Bethany, MO, approximately 25 miles south of the Iowa state line.  After consuming a quick authentic Mexican meal at Taco Bell (not), we filled up the car with some petro at the neighboring Sinclair (a cheap $2.09 per gallon), equipped ourselves with some acetaminophen tablets from the mini-mart and I began my driving shift to Des Moines.

The 1.5-hour drive from Bethany to Des Moines seemed like it took 2.5 hours.  I guess it was the monotony of the straight-as-an-arrow interstate freeway and the seemingly unwavering road construction and associated lane closures taking place.

A light precipitation began to fall as we arrived in downtown Des Moines.  The air was sticky, humid and hazy which partially masked the view of the state capitol building.  The Hy-Vee Hall at the Iowa Events Center adjacent to the Wells Fargo Arena sitting high atop the banks of the Des Moines River served as the venue for the expo and packet pick-up.

The expo was well organized and complete with a large assortment of vendors with a quick and easy packet pick-up.  Parking in the downtown area looked like as if it would be a challenge given all the runners convening on the Events Center, but I was lucky to find a spot across the street near the arena.  The lime green colored long sleeve event shirts with a quarter zip seemed unappealing to me at first, but when I tried it on they do, in fact, look good.

Following our check-in with the Marathon Maniacs, it was off to our hotel, Hyatt Place Des Moines, just a few blocks away.  I was concerned about the parking situation, but again, we were lucky and found a stall on the street in front of the hotel’s entrance.  We made it a point to leave the car in that premium spot until we left Des Moines.

What I found most interesting about the mid-west were the large number of sky walks that network with downtown area buildings.  With harsh winter weather conditions in the mid-west, I presume they are used quite frequently.

Subsequent to a long day running and traveling, it was dinner time!  We walked slowly through the light rain down to Centro just a few blocks up Locust Street for some Italian sustenance.  The high-ceilinged former Masonic Temple clad with a contemporary Italian flair looked busy.  As we entered, the hostesses informed us there was a 30-minute waiting list.  To avoid the wait, we wandered into the bar area in hopes of finding a high top table.  No such luck.  But wait…our luck once again held.  Just as we approached the bar teeming with patrons, another couple vacated their two seats leaving us with the perfect opportunity to seat ourselves.

The bartenders were in constant motion like bees in a hive and it took a few minutes for the bartender to acknowledge our existence.  I got the impression we took him by surprise that we wanted to order a meal and not just a cocktail to tie us over until being formally seated.

My wife ordered, what else, a cheese pizza, and I ordered a delicious, and a very messy, gorgonzola burger with a cold Corona on the side.  I first inquired whether the bar served Grain Belt, but unfortunately they did not.  I was miffed as to why Grain Belt was not in stock.  Hey, Des Moines is only a few hours south of Minneapolis.  What the hay!  We were stuffed and took the left-over pizza back to the room to perhaps munch on later.  It was time to get our running apparel ready for the next day and get some much needed rest.

I found it to be a little tough rolling out of bed Sunday morning, but once I began to move around, the stiffness abated somewhat.  Unquestionably, my left adductor muscle was sore, but not enough to stop me from taking on the challenge of another 26.2 miles. 

As I looked out the window, it was foggy (but no rain) with about a one mile visibility (at most).  My first thought was, “Oh no!  Contending with the high humidity will be a challenge in itself.”  I presumed it was comparatively warm on the outside, so I did not worry about a clothing drop bag.  When we exited the hotel lobby, my instinct was correct – it was warm and foggy, not an ideal situation.  Donned in our Marathon Maniac attire, we joined in with the large contingent of Maniacs, Half Fanatics and Double Agents in the starting line corrals a block or so from the hotel.

As soon as I left the hotel, I immediately turned on my fickle and unpredictable Garmin watch with the assumption it would take twenty minutes to boot-up.  When we joined in with the crowd of runners, I could feel the excitement and enthusiasm in the air, while beginning to sweat just standing around talking with other runners.  Well, at least the sun wasn’t shining.

Our Southwest flight back to LAX was scheduled to depart MCI at 0745 on Monday.  Since the airline does not offer seating assignments to any passengers, promptly checking in 24 hours before departure is critical to reserve a place in Boarding Group A.  With the marathon beginning at 0800, we had ample time to check-in with the airline (with our phone) while we waited in the start line.   

My patience was wearing thin with my Garmin still not working as starting time loomed.  After the singing of our National Anthem and an introduction of the African elite runners, the starting gun sounded and the crowd of 8000 runners were off and running.  My Garmin finally booted-up and acquired satellite signals just before I approached the start line.  Too close for comfort – but happy I was able to monitor my time.

My strategy was simple, go out slow, take my time and walk most of the hills before setting into a comfortable pace.  The first couple of miles were flat and provided a false sense of security.  First time runners of this marathon could interpret Des Moines as a flat course, but once runners turned up Grand Avenue, the steady gradient proved otherwise.  Sure, there were a couple of downhill portions, but the overall elevation change over the next couple of miles would have worn me out if I hadn’t walked some of the steeper uphill sections.

It didn’t take long after the start for me to start sweating profusely.  The increased relative humidity levels left my shirt looking and feeling as if I jumped into some water.  I noticed other runners with sweat dripping off the hems of their shorts.  So, at least I wasn’t the only profuse sweater on the course.

As the course turned onto Polk Blvd, runners were treated with beautiful sections of older homes along streets lined with oaks (Quercus sp.), tulip trees (Liriodendron tulipifera), sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua), buckeye (Aesculus sp.) and eastern redbud (Cercis Canadensis).  The wet street pavement covered with leaves, thousands of oak galls, acorns and sweetgum seeds created slick conditions and potential running hazards.

Shortly after crossing over I-235 around Marathon Mile 5, the lead runners from Kenya passed by me in the opposite direction at their seemingly effortless blistering paces.  I estimated that they were more than five miles ahead of me.  Not long after I turned onto Kingman Blvd, the lead female runner, also from Kenya, passed by me.  She was alone, looked relaxed and didn’t seem too concerned about surrendering her lead.  How great it would be if I could sustain such a pace.

Besides the finish line, I believe the highlight of the marathon was a run through Drake University complete with a lap around the big blue oval in Drake Stadium.  After completing a single loop of the oval, a camera was mounted near the track so runners could see themselves on the stadium’s Jumbo Tron. 

I was still holding my own slow but steady pace coming out of the stadium and back into the university campus feeling pretty good.  However, with just over 17 miles to go, my left adductor muscle in my upper inner thigh was beginning to affect my performance.  With each step, a dull pain radiated around to the hamstring area.  With additional water stations added to the course, likely due to the high humidity levels, I was taking in ample fluids and electrolytes to avoid any cramping issues.

I was just ahead or even with my wife until about Marathon Mile 11.  My adductor muscle bothered me enough to prevent me from picking up the pace on the little downhill on Harwood Drive.  I tried to keep up with my wife, but I saw it as a feudal struggle.  At that point, I told her to go and I will see her at the finish line.  I had no choice but to waddle along the best I could.  Within a few minutes, the 4:40 pace group caught up with me as I was taking in some nutrition and a couple of acetaminophen tablets to dull the ache of my muscles and feet. 

I caught up with the group heading down towards the Des Moines Art Center to the Bill Riley Trail trailhead.  For the next 1.5 miles, the paved trail, with portions covered in mud from the all the runners ahead of me, directed us through the wooded thickets of the meandering Raccoon River floodplain into Water Works Park.

I took issue with one runner in the pace group who played his music through his Bluetooth speakers for all to hear.  Some of his music was good (country and some classic rock), but most of it was the raunchy rap music complete with extreme profanity, lewdness and the degradation of women.  I couldn’t believe no one was raising a concern with such trashy compositions, especially the pace leader.

He remained near the back of the pack, so in order for me to keep my sanity, I forged ahead of the group so I could focus my attention on something else instead of hearing that crappy music.

I stayed ahead for the next two miles as we approached Marathon Mile 16 at Gray’s Lake where we all took a little walk break through the water station.  I noticed that the “offensive music guy” was not with us anymore.  Peace and tranquility at last!  I was thankful for that and positioned myself back to the rear of the group heading around Gray’s Lake.

At Marathon Mile 17, a portable make-shift sign mounted in the ground just off the paved trail informed runners that bacon was three miles ahead.  Wow, bacon!  I couldn’t wait.  It was something I looked forward to as a way of keeping my mind off my annoying foot pain.

I fell off the pace group around Marathon Mile 18.  I was getting hot, tired and achy and just couldn’t hold on any longer, but still thinking of that bacon.  I was able to see the exhaustion setting in from other runners who fell off the pace and the marathon still hadn’t begun.  It was time to run my own race and try not to let the five-hour group catch me.

Coming off the bike trail leaving the park, the course leveled out leading runners back into the city.  While contemplating the many thoughts of what lied ahead, I overheard a runner talking about his flight back home right after the marathon.  It suddenly dawned on me that we forgot to check-in for our flight out of MCI like were supposed to do that at 0745.  Since I have a predisposition to worry at times, the thought of being at the back of the line in Group C and unable to find a seat crossed my mind.

After crossing over the Des Moines River to Marathon Mile 20, I saw bacon.  I grabbed a couple of pieces and began munching on it.  Yuck!  The meat was thick, fatty, and very chewy and did not taste like the bacon I come know.  So, I spit it out and grabbed some water to wash away the aftertaste.  What a disappointment.  Now, the marathon really began – the final 10 km. 

As I passed the water station at Marathon Mile 22, volunteers handed out plastic Hawaiian leis to anyone interested.  A couple of girls each grabbed a lei and were telling everyone they “got lei’d in Des Moines during a marathon”.  Like I haven’t heard that before.  From all the leis laying on the road, I surmised that running with a lei bouncing around the neck line quickly became an unnecessary irritation. 

The precipitous and unyielding hill at Marathon Mile 23 that wraps up and around the state house is, in my opinion, undoubtedly the signature part of this course.  I would wager no one looks forward to the challenge of tackling this monstrosity.  With 5 km left, and no possible chance of running the hill, I was happy to walk up which permitted me to enjoy the surrounding scenery and the state buildings, especially the State Supreme Court building which resembles an astronomical observatory.

After the 1.5-mile loop around the vicinity of the capitol and some residential districts, the payback couldn’t come soon enough.  Although I wasn’t running fast, the gravity assisted trip down the monster hill was a godsend.  With only one mile remaining, I had the motivation and desire to finish in under five hours; especially, since I wanted to check-in with Southwest ASAP.  I picked up the pace at the Marathon Mile 25 banner, crossed back over the Des Moines River and made the right turn onto 3^rd Street to the finish line.  The last 0.2 mile, however, seemed like the longest 0.2 mile I’ve ever run.

I gave all I had in the final homestretch and crossed the finish line in a time of 4:58:52 for an 11:24 per mile pace.

Age graded score: 47.24%

Age graded time: 4:28:28

With my last mile being under nine minutes, I was delighted to finish in sub-five hours.  My feet and adductor muscle were very sensitive and sore.  I met up with my wife at the finish and she was surprised I finished in the time I did.  Soon after I received my finisher’s medal and grabbed a water bottle, I asked my wife if she checked-in with Southwest.  The look on her face was a look of disbelief as she totally forgot.  I immediately took her phone and checked in right on the spot – we were assigned to Boarding Group C.  Being near the front of Group C, it was a relief to know we had a high probability of getting a decent seat, but whether or not we could carry on our bags or gate check them was another story.  I felt better that was taken care of and enjoyed the rest of the day.

I was afforded two extra medals after finishing this amazing race – one for completing the I-35 Challenge and one for being a Marathon Maniac.  The extra medals complemented my Des Moines finisher medal quite well.  With the extra bling draped around my neck, it was time for a sandwich, chocolate milk, a pizza slice and other goodies made available to runners.

As an aspiring and ambitious 50-stater blazing a path through my final 21 states, I envisioned the Des Moines Marathon to encompass some rural flat cornfields passing by such establishments as Lulu’s Truck Stop, the Empty Arms Hotel or Sample’s Auto Sales, but instead it looped its way through the various urban neighborhoods, lakes, parks, Drake University and other distinctive and beautiful regions of the city.

The course was way hillier than what I had expected, but they were pretty much within the first half of the course.  I guess the organizers had to spice things up a bit by making the course a real challenge with the demoralizing hill near the state house – maybe it was to keep the course stimulating, thought-provoking and attention grabbing.  Well played guys!

I thought Des Moines was as tough as “they say” compared to Kansas City.  I feel the two marathon events struck the right balance needed for an effective and successful I-35 challenge.

The crowd and logistical support were amazing that led to a tremendous race experience for each participant.  I have to commend and applaud all the medical/course support personnel on their bicycles who rode with the runners, usually near pace groups.  If anyone needed attention, one was nearby to offer food, liquids, Vaseline or whatever assistance was desired.

The weather in KC paled in comparison to the conditions in central Iowa.  Des Moines was humid, cloudy and mostly hazy all day, but the clouds began to break shortly after I finished.  The weather gods were looking after me.  If the sun was shining, combined with the tropical-like humidity, my wheels would have come off the bus.

Shuffling the four blocks back to the hotel provided to be an unpleasant task.  Rigor mortis like stiffness began to set in and me feet were killing me.  A hot shower seemed to be the tonic I needed to feel any kind of normalcy.

We hit the interstate for our return trip back to KC an hour or so later.  With the exception of the marathon, the one thing I planned to do while visiting Iowa was to visit the birthplace of the legendary John Wayne in the city of Winterset, southwest of Des Moines located about 15 miles west of I-35 on State Highway 92.

Winterset, the county seat of Madison County, made famous in the film The Bridges of Madison County, attracts visitors from near and far to see the numerous covered bridges in and around the countryside.  It was a sunny, hot sultry day and walking around out of doors was very uncomfortable.

After a quick visit of the John Wayne Visitor Center, a tour of his house and lunch at Rodell’s Smokehouse BBQ, it was time to leave, in the meantime, visiting two covered bridges outside of Winterset.  I guess if you’ve seen one covered bridge, you’ve seen them all.  Both bridges were similar in appearance, color and not to mention, graffiti.  What a shame.  For an engineer, I appreciated the components of the Burr arch truss structure typical of the covered bridges.

By the time we pulled into our KC hotel for the evening not far from MCI, darkness was upon us and we were ready for some much needed sleep for our early morning flight to LAX – now that we had a place in line.  With the agony of a double marathon finally behind us, we relaxed with a candy bar snack, a cold soda and the gratification of completing two more states – albeit, a little sore.

Through Christ, the Apostle Paul said agony is good.  That doesn’t mean it isn’t agony and it isn’t a struggle, but it is good agony.  I don’t rejoice in pain or like to be hurt, but the agony with finishing this challenge’s fight is good – because it’s worth it.

Agony is about the battle and fighting against our competitors.  No matter how you look at agony, it is a struggle.  It’s not rest.  It’s not peace.  I speak of my competitors as the voices in my head telling me it’s time for me to stop and call it a day.  The struggle to keep advancing after twenty miles, ignoring my competitor’s demands and finishing strong is a valued victory.

We came to the Corn Belt to run a variety of challenges…to experience the thrill of victory…and the agony of the feet…that’s my drama of athletic competition…only to confirm I need new shoes!

Let us have fun in the sun, appreciate the pain in the rain, possess superfluidity when we run in the humidity, and when we’re done, we can all look back and talk to each other a ton.

“He has challenged our solemn obligation to keep the Great Lights displayed on the altar of freedom.  We have accepted that challenge.” – Senator Harry Truman’s speech to the 127^th Communication to the Masonic Grand Lodge of Tennessee, 1943.