State Number 3 v2.0 - Colorado Marathon

State Number 3 v2.0 – Colorado Marathon

Fort Collins, CO

5 May 2018

As anyone knows from reading my race reviews, visiting all fifty states of the United States has been on my life-long bucket list.  I figured that if I set a goal of running a marathon in all fifty states, it would force me to travel while doing something productive and healthy.

Back in August 2012, I checked off my third state with the annual running of the Mt. Sneffels Marathon in Ridgway, CO tucked away in a beautiful piece of southwestern Colorado, dubbed the “Switzerland of America.”

As scenic as the region is, the 8000-foot plus altitude, coupled with inadequate preparation and training, outweighed any picturesque pleasure I enjoyed and made running that marathon a difficult endeavor.  My five-plus hour finish time unquestionably reflected the discomfort, anguish and torment I suffered over the hilly out-and-back 13-mile course traversing the area’s monotonous and wearisome gravel county roadways. 

I completed Mt. Sneffels in a time of 5:27:36, considered a personal worst at the time, thus putting the first unsightly and unappealing blemish on my marathoning record.  So, in an effort to remove said stain, my wife and I decided it was time to redeem ourselves with a Colorado do-over marathon.  This time, a faster point-to-point downhill course without the high altitude trepidations.

High altitude running can be a tough challenge, as any runner can attest.  I live and train at an altitude of about 320 feet above mean sea level (MSL) so I’m not normally acclimatized for high altitude running.  According to the marathon’s web site, the Colorado Marathon begins at Cache La Poudre Canyon at an elevation of 6108 ft above MSL and concludes in Fort Collins at 4981 ft.

I’ve run some marathons comparable to the elevation of Fort Collins area in states such as Utah, Idaho. Montana and Wyoming with elevations ranging from four to five thousand feet without any major difficulties.  Since Colorado consists of a mostly downhill gradient, I shouldn’t consider this run to be much of a challenge.

I recently read a comical rhyme about high altitude running.  It goes like this, “Before you hit the trail, best your urine be pale.”  In other words, hydration is the key since it’s very easy to become dehydrated, and as a runner breathes out more, he/she loses more water through respiration; and, with the dry mountain air, perspiration rates quickly increase.  So, in the days leading up to Colorado, I made it a point to drink more water than I usually consume.

This little weekend “runcation” originated from our routine stressful, chaotic and hectic LAX departure point with a short non-stop flight to Denver (DEN).  LAX parking is now becoming the foremost problem now that our convenient Lot C is currently undergoing a substantial facelift and modernization project.  Following a ninety minute drive to Fort Collins, we arrived at the expo hosted by the Hilton Fort Collins to pick up our race swag.

The expo, held in one of the hotel’s conference rooms, featured the usual players along with some local vendors hawking their products and merchandise, as well as free sample packs of dietary hemp seeds.  I’m skeptical whether I should try them as they may contain THC.  As usual, it was in and out with a smooth packet pick-up without any malfunctions or hiccups. 

As with every marathon trip, I monitor my weather apps throughout the week leading up to the race to prepare myself for what I can anticipate on race day.  There’s nothing more frustrating than making plans around a weather forecast and then having that forecast change – a cold, rainy, windy day or a hot, humid, miserable day can make one feel like there’s no point in even paying attention to the weather.  With the possibility of several parcels of air over the plains and along the Front Range, and the fact it’s springtime, it’s quite possible for weather conditions in Fort Collins to change in an instant.  Just four days before the marathon, the Fort Collins area faced winter storm warnings with 1-2 feet of snowfall in the nearby mountains.  Go figure.

No bears this time

We arrived in Fort Collins to a mostly cloudy day with warm mild temperatures.  Late afternoon thunderstorms loomed over the Front Range threatening to rain down on Fort Collins.  My weather apps provided an optimistic forecast for marathon day making for near ideal for running – cool temperatures at the start with mostly cloudy milder weather by the time I would move out of the canyon with the possibility of rain showers later in the day.  If the sun was out, I dreaded the possibility of crashing at the end once the comfort of the canyon wall shade disappeared while in the flat lands leading into Fort Collins.

We were only in Fort Collins for a brief period of time, so finding something to do didn’t top our list besides relaxing our muscles in the hot tub.  Home to Colorado State, the city’s culture appears to cater toward the young college-age population, likely influencing the town atmosphere.  We found evidence of the college flair at our chosen pre-marathon meal establishment, Stuft a Burger Bar, indulging in a tasty and succulent tequila sunrise burger.  It’s not your ordinary burger, but a knife and a fork type burger!

The Tequila Sunrise

Sleeping is next to impossible on the eve of a marathon.  I don’t know why it’s tough.  I’m not a competitive runner.  I’m not in it to win it, so why should I be so nervous?  But if I feel I got enough rest during the week leading up to the run, any insomnia the night before shouldn’t affect my performance.  Usually, the pre-race adrenaline rush typically helps me feel alert and ready to go.

As usual, I slept off and on before getting up at 0350.  We laid out our attire and gear the night before allowing us to quickly get ready and leave the hotel around 0410, have a quick breakfast bite, drive into downtown Fort Collins, secure a parking spot and line up for the mandatory bus transportation. 



Morning twilight along the Poudre

Buses loaded between the hours of 0415 and 0500 in front of the downtown parking garage on Mountain Avenue.  The forty-five minute bus ride from Fort Collins seemed to take forever winding up the dark Poudre Canyon to the starting line staging area at Stevens Gulch Campground around 0530.  A large number of runners were already on hand before our arrival and were either lined up for the porta-pots, sipping on coffee or hot chocolate, or simply stretching, relaxing or meditating by the soothing sounds of the Poudre River.

The twisty highway leading up the canyon reminded me of similar bus ride up northern Utah’s Blacksmith Fork Canyon to the staging area for the Top of Utah Marathon (State No. 4), only this time, I didn’t slip on a gravelly-sloped embankment, falling on my hind quarters.  That’s another story.

Heading off to the start line

Typically, most point-to-point races that require transporting participants to the starting lines use school buses built to accommodate young skulls full of mush.  However, race organizers contracted with a luxury bus company, built to accommodate grown-ups and those who are not vertically challenged.  Yes, it’s nice and much more comfortable than a school bus, but at the same time, I got this feeling the use of luxury buses is one of the reasons the cost of this race is so high – but, for me, it’s well worth the added cash outlay.

I was quite surprised upon our arrival to the start line.  The temperatures were unexpectedly mild and not as cold as I had anticipated.  I may have overdressed for the occasion, but I had to live with my decision.  The refreshing Rocky Mountain air was a delight to breathe and gave me a “Rocky Mountain High” type feeling.  The sounds of the snow-fed Cache La Poudre River spilling over the rocks and boulders provided a tranquil and peaceful background noise amid the mix of talk and laughter from the enthusiastic runners ready to get the show on the road.

The lines to the porta-pots were insanely long, and those who don’t find time to purge their bilge water in the portable facilities, typically find time along to course to empty their tank.  Usually within the first few miles, it seems to be a pee-fest within the herbaceous borders of the roadway.

Thin wispy cirrus clouds painted the early morning sky as the sun rose over the surrounding mountains around 0600 illuminating the canyon expanse revealing all its splendor.  The wild and scenic Poudre River canyon is a hidden treasure, with its majestic cliffs, intriguing and fascinating rock formations and the montane forest of ponderosa and lodgepole pines, subalpine fir, sage brush, mahogany and aspen trees.  The distinctive “V-shaped” canyon walls, indicative of unglaciated actions, preserved the large meanders of the river deeply entrenched into the hard Precambrian rocks. 

I powered up my Garmin GPS receiver about thirty minutes before the start, so it would have time to standardize its 3-D trilateration calculations needed to fix its position on the Earth’s global surface.  I stashed my windbreaker into my gear bag and placed it into a UPS truck later to be transported to the finish line and began my walk to the start line.  As 0630 neared, hundreds of runners made their way onto State Highway 14.  From the first timer to the veteran racer eager to capture the overall title, everyone appeared ready to start pounding the pavement.

Following the National Anthem, it was go time, but I couldn’t decide whether to run with the 4:15 pace group or challenge myself by charging out on my own to see what I can do.

The first half:  (9:06, 8:58, 9:05, 9:09, 9:02, 10:07, 9:35, 10:01, 9:32, 9:49, 10:52, 11:20, 10:39)

On your marks

It’s a matter of physics and inertia – Newton’s First Law.  What do I like about running downhill races?  With inertia, it feels nice, easy, smooth and much more enjoyable than flat land running.  Once in motion, I like to stay in motion.  However, with marathons, the more one starts to walk (usually near the end), unbalanced forces from within tend to make it tougher to continue running once again, killing any kind of impetus I had.

The sound of an air horn beckoned the beginning of my journey down Highway 14.  At first, I eased into an easy warm-up pace needed to relax any tight muscles before transitioning into a faster pace and I quickly decided to take the risk and not run with a pacer, but instead, do my own race.  Will the risk be worth the reward? 

The backdrop of the canyon was absolutely spectacular and at times depending on which way one faced, the bright sun peaking from behind the mountains blinded the eyes of runners, making it difficult to see the road ahead.

Based on my first impression, this marathon may arguably be one of the most scenic road marathons I have in my running portfolio.  My plan, simple, on this mostly downhill course – either join up with a pacer, or charge out and do my own race; however, based on experience, this is always easier said than done!

The sun in our eyes

A side-effect and direct consequence of marathon-related selective memory is that you forget how painful and arduous some undertakings are and decide to try it again – e.g., banking time, downhill running!

As I began to run, the course gradient appeared nowhere near the severity of the former quad-busting Revel Canyon City Marathon in Azusa, California I ran in 2014, so I wasn’t overly concerned about shin splints or major leg pain I experienced after running that grueling event, but it was certainly in the back of my mind. 

Marathon rules require that runners must keep left of the traffic cones marking the course.  At first, traffic safety traffic cones were set along the highway’s centerline stripe to account for the large squad of runners, and once the platoon thinned out, the cones transitioned closer to the road’s shoulder to account for two-way traffic.

My breathing seemed somewhat labored at first, but seemed to taper off once I settled into a rhythm. I felt quite content with the current pace, all the while resisting the urge to charge ahead too fast.  From my experiences, I found that banking time for the later miles doesn’t particularly bode well for me – but I’ll risk another try.  If I maintain a consistent pace, I find my finish times improving (e.g., Louisiana, Indiana and Arkansas).  As long as I kept myself hydrated and fueled on a regular basis, I anticipate this marathon to go smoothly as well.

The famous tunnel

The miles seemed to tick by as I took in the beauty of my scenic surroundings.  At approximately Marathon Mile 2.5, I approached the often talked about narrow unlined hard rock tunnel bored through a portion of a steep rock wall dropping off into the river’s gorge, perhaps 100 feet in length with a 14.5-ft vertical clearance.  A construction flagman stood guard at each tunnel portal controlling approaching traffic ensuring the safety of runners.  According to bridgehunter.com, the rock tunnel was chiseled into the rocky hillside in 1929.

Outside the tunnel’s exit portal, race officials tapered their traffic cones roughly four to six feet from the right edgeline.  A little constricted, I thought, and certainly enough to create a running hazard.

Colorado State Troopers, monitoring the participants from their motorcycles, were so intense about keeping runners to the left of the cones.  Time and time again, the troopers speeding along with red and blue strobe lights flashing kept waving their arms like we were herds of cattle, mandating that runners keep to the left, exclaiming over their PA system, “Keep to the left of the cones!  Keep to the left of the cones!”  OMG.  We’re all adults and know when to move over for traffic.  However, once they were out of sight, runners quickly moved back to where they were originally.  I thought their obsessive movements became an annoyance.

The beauty of the canyon

Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “You must do the thing you think you cannot do”.  I did charge out ahead of the 4:15 pacer, dissing my day’s plan of attack hoping I can do what I “think I cannot do.”  Over the next few miles, I held a stable pace, occasionally walking through an aid station for some gulps of water and/or Nuun electrolyte fluids and to give my legs a little respite.  I felt as if a sub-4:30 finish was very doable. 

Between Marathon Miles 11 and 12, I sensed a group of runners approaching me from behind.  As one runner nearly stumbled over a traffic cone (due to being placed too close to the shoulder), giving herself a sudden fright, the 4:15 pacer I had hoped to run with caught up to me.  It didn’t cause me any anxiety, but I joined into the group to see how far I could survive, but the pace was a tad too fast for my liking.  I felt as if my proverbial wheels were loosening and it was only a matter of time before they came off and I wasn’t even half way done.  I began to think that if the 4:30 pacer caught me, I could muster the energy to tag along, but I didn’t hold out any hope.



 At Marathon Mile 12.5

I sensed my energy level beginning to wane the closer I approached the half marathon split.  I had a good pre-race breakfast, consumed some energy gels, and hydrated with water and Nuun, so why was I beginning to falter?  Likely cause, as one descends, the air warms.  In essence, I was getting hot, and when it gets hot, my performance quickly slides downhill.

I crossed the half split (also a marathon relay exchange point) with a mix of emotions.  Even though I crossed in a time of 2:08:43, I considered that a run-of-the-mill time split and wasn’t overly concerned, but I had my doubts.  With hopes for a 4:30–4:40 finish time, I pressed on.

The second half:  (10:50, 10:40, 11:57, 11:29, 11:04, 14:07 [a not-so-lovely hill], 12:56, 13:00, 14:47, 14:34, 13:19, 16:04 [a nasty hill], 13:26, 9:58 projected pace [final 0.31 mi])

I managed to keep a consistent pace for the next couple of miles until a slight uphill grade took over the course near Marathon Mile 15.  My quads and calves seemed to tighten as I ran up the hill, burning off needed energy.  After the hill’s apex, it was downhill once again leading out of the canyon confines.



Around Marathon Mile 16, runners exited the canyon, and along with that, a drastic change of scenery, marking the beginning of a brutal and unexciting excursion towards Fort Collins passing by the locally well-known landmark, Ted’s Place, at the junction of CO 14 and US 287.  Seeing the landmark brought back some wonderful childhood memories of Martin & Shirley’s Market on CA 36.  I digress. 



Following a short little hill, it was onto the busy US 287 four-lane expressway.  I was now running in the dreaded eleven minute range at this point, and with a seemingly increased effort compared to my earlier running labors.  I really didn't know what it was – maybe I went out too fast, maybe the heat, maybe it was my nourishment, or maybe I just didn't have a fast time in me today.  Nevertheless, I knew it was way too early in the game to pick up my effort – I still had over ten miles to go!  So I told my inner bargainer voice to hold back in the 11:00 range for the time being and see if I could pick it up later.

The beautiful, shaded canyon with the scenic river was gone.  Now, it was time to focus on mental toughness.  The Poudre River has since shifted course to a southerly direction and the only scenery are the dull green rolling farmlands of the Front Range foothills, but there’s nothing that can be done about that.  Obliviously, it makes sense to end the marathon in Fort Collins, but getting through the doldrums in the meantime was a challenge, and it made me feel better knowing that each and every runner was blessed to run through this lackluster section of the course.

The worst thing about it?  Despite the snow a week ago, it was an abnormally HOT day and the next few miles seemed to be kind of a blur.  I was getting tired and my inner thigh was beginning to bother me. 

Shortly before Marathon Mile 19, runners veered off US 287 onto CR 54G towards a not-so-lovely incline into the community of Laporte.  I grabbed myself some Honey Stinger gels and a bag of shots as I was in dire need of some nutrition.  I walked up the foreboding hill and began running on the backside.  I found that opening the Honey Stinger shots bag was next to impossible with sweaty slippery fingers.  If only the manufacturer, or someone else, would score the seal, opening the packet would be much easier.




I felt like the characters

At this point, I began slipping into the 13-14 minute pace range without any effort or thought.  Granted, part of my withering pace was likely due to the “H” word – heat.  Who knows?  Maybe, subconsciously, I was just giving up since I knew a 4:30 was looking more and more remote knowing that the lone pacer had the audacity to pass me just after Marathon Mile 20.  My next option, Plan B – finish in under five hours.

From CR 54G at the Cache la Poudre Middle School, runners made a sharp right turn onto the area’s popular Poudre Trail shy of Marathon Mile 21.  The Poudre Trail path wraps around the backside of the school, and once again, connects with the Poudre River to the Butterfly Natural Woods at Marathon Mile 22 before opening up to wetland recharge ponds and wildlife ecosystems with naturally contoured river banks designed to promote connection to the Poudre River’s floodplain.  Even though the “natural area” design stimulated my engineering mind, I considered this portion of the marathon course to be very boring and mentally draining.  Besides the shade being gone, evading people on bicycles sharing the road, and dealing with Mr. Sol’s beat down, I was hot and tired and wanted this journey to soon end, but this dreaded task had to be done, so I sucked it up and thought how grateful I am to be running the course in an effort to divert my mind from despair.

Crossing the Poudre River

As I entered the North Shields Ponds Natural Area near Marathon Mile 24, the lone 4:45 pacer overtook my progress further sullying my morale.  I dubbed this section the “deadhead zone” symbolizing those around me walking or attempting to “jog” at some slothful shuffle for short periods of time.  The anguish and torment on their faces said it well, “I’m ready for this to be done!”  I needed something to divert my attention from the anguish I experienced.  By smiling or thinking of something funny gave me some unknown boost of energy.  I even had visualizations of a dog chasing me, hoping my adrenal glands would kick in some extra adrenaline.   It was time to buckle down and to keep ahead of the 5:00 pacer.

Finally after four miles of unexciting running, runners departed the Poudre Trail at Lee Martinez Park just after Marathon Mile 25.  Kids occupied themselves on the playground equipment while adults and those more interested in what was unfolding, lined the parking lot cheering on the seemingly endless parade of runners.  As I left the parking lot onto Elm Street, a menacing hill leading into the city of Fort Collins slapped me in the face.  “Are you kidding?” I thought.  It was again time to walk and I knew I was fraught with fatigue, so I just figured, “What the heck.  I'm walking this.”  I needed to conserve my precious energy for my final push to finish.  I tried to pick up my pace, but I’m not sure if I really did – at least it didn’t feel like it. 

At the top of the hill, it was south on Sherwood to Maple to Meldrum when I saw the Marathon Mile 26 flag, I was ALMOST there!  The more-than-awesome spectators kept encouraging me and saying things like, “You got this!”  “Dig deep!”  “You’re awesome!” and “You’re looking good!” (Well, that’s a bit of a stretch).  I appreciated the nice words which kept me going to the end.

I made a right turn onto Maple; thence a quick right turn onto Howes Street leading to Washington Park.  There it was, I could see the clock ahead slowly ticking away with a solid crowd lining the barriers cheering runners to the finish.  I pushed it hard throughout the remaining real estate ahead of me, heard my name over the PA system (yes, the man pronounced my home city correctly!), crossed the finish line, quickly glanced at the clock and I did it – under five hours (4:58:28).  My Garmin registered 26.31 miles, a fairly consistent differential compared with nearly all the previous miles.  Oh well, it’s nearly impossible to run the shortest path possible.

Runners came out to run today, that is for sure.  Whether it’s those who strive to conquer a BQ, PR, break a sub-three hour marathon or simply want to win it outright, runners meant business today.  I’m no exception.  I set out to run a good time and although I did not succeeded at my stated goal, I did succeed with an alternative goal instead.

RACE STATS:

Distance: Marathon (26.2 mi) – my Garmin clocked it at 26.31 mi

Date: May 6, 2018
Bib No.: 45
Weather at start: 50°F, few cirrus clouds, light winds
Gun time: 4:58:50
Chip time: 4:58:28
Average cadence: 155 steps per minute
Average pace: 11:23 per mile
Overall rank: 597 of 760
Gender rank: 344 of 412
Division rank: 22 of 33
Elevation: 161 ft gain / 1033 ft loss
Half split: 2:08:43 (9:49 pace)
Average finish time: 4:20:57
Standard deviation: 0:46:23
Age graded score: 49.09%
Age graded time: 4:18:11
Garmin splits: 9:06, 8:58, 9:05, 9:09, 9:02, 10:07, 9:35, 10:01, 9:32, 9:49, 10:52, 11:20, 10:39, 10:50, 10:40, 11:57, 11:29, 11:04, 14:07, 12:56, 13:00, 14:47, 14:34, 13:19, 16:04, 13:26, 9:58 [final 0.31-mi]

 

Most distance runners know, the marathon begins with the final ten kilometers.  Finishing those last 10 km is when it’s about what you have left in your core.  When you use all your strength and fitness over the first twenty miles, it really comes down to what you have left inside.  How much do you want it?  You have to draw deep into your pockets and pull out some magic.  I really have to say, “I did.”  That’s probably the most remarkable thing about a marathon.

It's always a disappointment by giving it your all within the first half only to find that you're not going to earn that goal time you sought.  Especially when it hurts…because it did.  My ankles and inner thighs were killing me by Marathon Mile 22.  I put most of the blame on the downhill. 

I remembered that feeling from Canyon City.  I still tried to push through this though, and to help motivate me, I kept reminding myself that we had to drive back to Denver to catch a plane, so I needed to finish in under five hours.  I did the best I could and pushing myself for that long is an accomplishment, whether or not it felt that way at the time!

I recently read a quote from a former world-class marathoner, Robert de Castella.  “If you feel bad at ten miles, you’re in trouble.  If you feel bad at twenty miles, you’re normal.  If you don’t feel bad after 26.2 miles, you’re abnormal.”  Bearing in mind I felt bad at ten, and felt worst at twenty…am I normal, or was I in trouble from the beginning?

So, to sum things up.  Overall, I really did like this marathon; however, was it enough to justify it being much pricier than most of the road marathon's I've done around the country?  The scenery for the first sixteen miles was spectacular, but the balance of the course – not so.  Regrettably, I have to say there was WAY less course support than I expected, but I can understand why spectators were so few, and finishing in downtown was probably the best part.  In addition to a hum-drum finisher’s medal, each runner received a finisher's art print attached to a water bottle, which was kind of a cool touch.  

The medal.  The "C" in the center swivels around.

Unfortunately, I was rather dissatisfied with the finish line festival at Washington Park.  They had nothing to offer but orange wedges, apple slices (which were delicious, by the way), plain bagels, bananas and Quaker chewy granola bars.  Where was the pizza we were promised?  Oh, for the pizza and after party, runners had to walk five blocks to Coopersmith’s Pub & Brewery.  Walking five blocks after a marathon was certainly not in my repertoire of must do’s.  Why not have a pizza spread at the park?

Considering the lack of theater at the finish line, we didn’t spend much time dawdling.  We had a plane to catch, and for those who haven’t been to Denver Airport, its huge and way out there.  With the amount of soreness and stiffness to last a lifetime, I agonizingly walked the several blocks back to the car and hopped in for a 1.5-hour ride to DEN.  Sitting idle in a car for ninety minutes post-marathon on scant sleep, sitting in a cramped aircraft for two hours and driving 3.5 hours from LAX to our humble place of abode, equates to SO MUCH fun, by the way!  It doesn’t get any better than that.

LIKES / WHAT WORKED:

• BEAUTIFUL course throughout the canyon and the peaceful sounds of the river.  Together with the downhill course profile, this really was the absolute best part about this marathon.
• Very well organized event from the expo to the starting line bus shuttles.
• Easy parking close to the bus pick-up.  Yes.  Close to finish line? Arguable.
• Nice shirts, personalized bibs, and finisher's keepsake art print.
• Luxury buses were great and worth the extra money.  Personally, riding a school bus to save $40 would not be worth sacrificing the comfort.
• Free Race Photos!!!  Always an added bonus if they become available.

DISLIKES / WHAT DIDN'T WORK:

• Running on the road shoulder.  The entire course was open to traffic, and State Troopers content with riding their motorcycles were kind of anal about making sure people were running on the shoulder to the left of the cones. Generally, road shoulders are supered, the edge of pavement is mostly broken with many abrupt edges, raising the probability of foot and ankle injuries.  I wish the county or state DOT would close at least one lane so that didn't have to happen.
• More porta-potties at the starting line, please.
• Hot and exposed for the second half.  Marathon Miles 16-25 were brutal-ful and tough.
• Limited food and entertainment at the finish line area.  Needed pizza at the finish, not five blocks away.
• Need medical professionals/EMTs at the finish line to support the needs of runners who may have pushed it a little too much or need assistance with walking or whatever ails them.
• Not a ton of course support.
• Yes, the entry fee was somewhat steep.

Final thoughts:

Well, I had really hoped to finish Colorado on an exciting, overly exuberant note with a sub-4:15 finish, or a highly improbable PR, but it was just not in the cards for me (once again).   Although I was disappointed in myself, there are so many more important things in life than running a marathon PR or expecting a certain time.  I know it makes a runner feel especially good, but it cannot happen all the time. 

I had some good marathon runs, put in some work, and I wanted to have something to show for it, but it was just not the day.  But I was at least delighted to expunge a “not so wonderful” time from Mt. Sneffels.

Running is supposed to be something that brings me joy.  Mostly, it does, but sometimes, it’s a love-hate relationship.  It is something that shouldn’t cause disappointment by running a 4:58 marathon instead of a 4:30 or faster time (which is still a perfectly acceptable time from an Average Joe’s viewpoint).

I hope to log a decent amount of miles in the upcoming months, but maybe not in an overly structured format.  Since my marathons are pretty much spaced out enough for the rest of the year, I will continue to use them as my long runs, focusing my attention to tempo runs and speed work, throwing in some hills and a semi-long run from time to time.  I believe pacing myself, either with a pacer or otherwise, is key to enhanced marathon times.

Now that the dust has settled and I may still feel a bit disappointed, it certainly doesn't feel quite as upsetting as did the disastrous performance at Mt. Sneffels.  I mean it really is JUST running.  My livelihood does not depend on running, or competing for a certain time.  I still receive the same medal as the first or last place person.  Even though I didn’t return home with the time I had hoped for, I can still look back and be proud of myself for a job well done.

Onward and upward!