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 3rd 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 127th
Communication to the Masonic Grand Lodge of Tennessee, 1943.
