State Number 41 - Buffalo Marathon

State Number 41 – Buffalo Marathon

Buffalo, NY

27 May 2018

 

Sticking to any long-term goal can be a challenging assignment, especially when one of them is to run a marathon race in all fifty states.  If one lacks focus and drive, the frenzied pace of the early years may eventually stall as other life commitments take precedence.  For a left-coaster like me, it never helps when your remaining states lie in the heart of the Midwest or the smaller states of the east coast and New England.  Traveling to these states can take hours of planning, if you want to make efficient use of your time.

The goal of my quest is still very much alive and I fully intend on getting to that ultimate finish line.  I may be still running, but I’m not in any kind of perennial marathon shape.  I’d be lying if I have never thought about changing gears by hopping on a bicycle sometime.  I find that biking is fun in a way that running rarely is – easy, or at least much easier.  When you’re used to long runs, it’s literally a breeze to bike for an hour, or even twenty miles.  Just like running though, if you bike long enough, you’ll eventually meet thresholds that test your heart, legs, and lungs.  But I’m staying focused and I will continue running towards that proverbial goal line.

I anticipate reaching the end of my 50-states goal towards the end of 2019.  At one point, I thought I could complete my pursuit by 2018, but cramming too many marathons into each of the preceding years was way too much for my old body to handle without affecting my structural and skeletal integrity.  Then the goal became 2019, hoping any side quests won’t change the nature of my final homestretch.  At the moment, there’s some debate about which state will bear the honor of being State No. 50, even though I’m very, very close.  In times like these, I can always use a good motivator, and I know just where to find it – in a map, of course.

Original plat of Buffalo

Call it “motivational cartography” if you will.  I’m a map guy and I love maps.  From the basic road map; to FEMA’s flood hazard maps using GIS platforms; to USGS quadrangle maps; or even ancient record plats.  In my profession, I use them on a daily basis.  Sometimes I’m amazed I chose engineering as a career over geography, but at least the two professions can be characterized as overlapping Venn Diagrams in many ways.

Readers of this space may know that after every new state I complete, I occasionally include a color-coded map at the end of my writing with a shiny new addition.  It’s usually a pretty rudimentary map grabbed from a semi running-specific web site for Fifty Staters.  I find that there aren’t many web sites devoted to crafting color-coded maps used to track progress.  Now, with RaceRaves, fashioning an attractive map is at one’s fingertips.

Its functionality, interface, and its dedication to the running community now make it one of my go-to running sites.  However, their latest map creation addition to the user experience is, for a conformist runner like myself, their best so far.

From my perspective, the RaceRaves web site makes a pretty damn good map emphasizing anyone’s running adventures and for those on a 50-states quest has a colorful and easy-to-use map to track their progress.

Now, I have a great source of motivational cartography showing me the meagre real estate I have left to conquer my monumental quest.  As of this writing, using the new map creator tool, my most recent 50-states map takes on the following rendering (omitting the countless half marathons run in California and one in Hawai’i):

 

My wife and I embarked on our New York Memorial Day weekend excursion with yet another dreaded red-eye Spirit Airlines flight from LAX to Cleveland (CLE).  Regarding the comfort department, the utilitarian airline makes no guarantees as to the coziness and well-being of its passengers.  Sleeping upright in non-reclining seats takes a talented individual or someone who can turn out like a light.  I’m not one of them.

Feeling a bit sleepy-eyed, we arrived at CLE around 0630 EDT, caught a shuttle bus to the rental car facility, seated ourselves in a new Nissan Altima (with an added bonus – new car smell), drove off the lot and found our way to I-90, skirting along Lake Erie’s lakeshore for a scenic three-hour drive to Buffalo. 

Warm, humid tropical weather greeted us as we arrived in Buffalo.  The warm temperatures had me a little apprehensive, but there was nothing in my power to prevent that.  All I could do was to prepare myself for an impending miserable Sunday.

We arrived at our hotel shortly before 1000 EDT.  Bordering on a slight case of overtiredness, we sauntered over to the expo hosted by the Buffalo Niagara Convention Center for packet pick-up and concomitant race swag just a few blocks from the hotel.  The fifty or so exhibitors and purveyors of merchandise filled the second floor’s main exhibit hall offering running accoutrements, entry fee discounts and enticements to some other marathon event, apparel, accessories, free samples, massage chairs and various thingamajigs. 

As usual, in an effort to minimize unnecessary carry-on bag volume, we have a tendency to shy away from purchasing anything at expos, but rather browse and try free samples as if we were in a Costco store.  After that, it’s generally a B-line to the exit doors.

However, this year, the expo featured a small line-up of speakers, compared to previous years.  Unfortunately, due to extreme weariness, low energy and exhaustion from our cross-country travel, basically on the threshold of dozing off in my chair, we could only muster enough energy to sit through the first speaker, Melissa Kahn, who spoke about her expedition from obesity to competing in a triathlon in Nepal’s Himalayan Mountains, of all places. 

I wanted to stay and listen to Fitz Koehler speak about strength training for runners and how to improve one’s pace, but we were in dire need of a nap, so we left after Melissa’s presentation.  Fitz is also a prominent finish line announcer and I looked forward to her announcing my name as I approached the finish line.  The marathon race directors wrapped up the day with a Q&A session.

Smokehouse burger

Following an interesting excursion for an unchained pre-marathon meal consisting of a smokehouse burger and a pasta side at My Tomato Pie in nearby Amherst, it was time to hit the sack for a well-earned rest.

During the week, I received emails and text alert messages informing runners of the likelihood of hot and humid weather and to be mindful of heat hazards and to stay hydrated throughout the race.  The weather forecasters predicted higher than average temperatures for the marathon with a slight chance of thunderstorms late afternoon.  The thunderstorms failed to materialize, which was a good thing.  The last thing I wanted was the marathon to be canceled due to lightning or black flag conditions.

Marathon Sunday in downtown Buffalo turned out to be a rather warm and balmy morning with mostly cloudy skies and temperatures in the mid to upper 60s.  Visual clues in the clouds voiced threats of rain and possible thunderstorms.  Even though I live in a warm and arid part of the country, I dread running in the heat, especially humidity, but I’m going to give it my best shot and learn from Colorado – start out easy with an untroublesome pace group. 

The recent Colorado Marathon afforded me an opportunity to run aggressively, but it turned out to be something resembling an epic letdown.  It was downhill and supposed to be cool so aspirations for a potential PR were in the offing, but it was not to be.  My “aggressive” running served me well to a certain extent, only to bonk in the end.  Going out too fast should never be an option for me anymore.  

I huddled in the mass of runners with the 4:30 pace group led by two pacers, Cindy and Matt.  If, for some chance, I drop out of their group, there are other groups spaced ten minutes apart up to five hours.  Cindy paced the half marathon (2:15) while Matt set the pace the full, but ultimately ended up passing the torch to another pacer near the half split.

Race announcer Fitz

Almost 4900 runners, and perhaps just as many spectators, flooded the streets of downtown Buffalo.  All around me, fidgety runners prepared for the annual running of this marathon, shaking sleepy legs, stretching and taking deep cleansing breaths to enhance their circulatory systems with oxygenated blood.  Catchy rock music echoed throughout Niagara Square and the deep bass thuds had this peculiar motivational effect on me as I set out for yet another 26.2-mile adventure throughout parts of a city completely unknown to me.  Fitz energized the crowd with her motivational messages and her inspiring oratorical verbose. 

Somehow, for the first time in many races, I felt nervous for some reason – probably because of the heat and the prospect of a finish time in excess of five hours.  My objective is to log a decent time with a pre-determined pace group.  Logging a good time is something I hadn’t done since the Louisiana Marathon and every marathon I’ve done since then had either been classified as a training run or part of a tough weekend double. 



Big Brother is watching!

Alas, the time has come – the singing of our National Anthem.  High above Delaware Avenue, Old Glory gently wavered in the slight morning breeze suspended by two aerial ladders courtesy of the Buffalo Fire Department (BFD).

The first half:  (10:07, 10:09, 10:01, 10:24, 10:33, 10:08, 10:12, 10:21, 10:19, 10:15, 10:28, 10:30, 11:47)

Dazzling start

At 0630, the feverish runners crowding Niagara Square were given the green light as we shot out of the starting gates in a northerly direction up Delaware Avenue under the fanfare of an unexpected pyrotechnics display.  Sparks of red, white and blue grabbed everyone’s attention with oohs and aahs.  The sound of Queen’s We Are The Champions resounded out of stereo speakers serving one purpose, rousing the excitement of everyone crossing the starting line.

The marathon begins and ends in Niagara Square, considered to be the central hub of Buffalo and the influence of Washington, D.C. is readily apparent in its design – a signature feature of Joseph Ellicott’s radial street patterns.  The McKinley Monument, a 96-foot tall marble obelisk pointing skyward between four sleeping lions and turtles at its base, marks the center of the city with Buffalo’s major streets converging upon it.  Surrounded by a large circular fountain, the obelisk stands out despite many surrounding buildings surpassing it in height, an awesome structure that defines Buffalo’s early history.  In the background stands the awe inspiring city hall building, a 30-plus story Art Deco structure, housing an observation deck where one can view the city from a bird’s perspective.

City Hall behind obelisk

Right from the start, I could feel the warmth and sultriness of the air penetrating my soul paralleling the feeling I had at the Donna Marathon in Jacksonville, sans sore legs.  The first miles of my marathons are usually tackled at an easy comfortable pace – but today, I wanted to be out for something more, but the ambient conditions warned me to hold back forcing myself to heed the advice I learned from Donna.  I told myself, “It’s going to hurt and it’s going to be unpleasant, but I just have to plod my way to the finish.”

There are a host of websites that aim to predict your potential marathon finishing times based on your shorter and, typically, faster run times.  For too long my projected times had sneered at me, taunting me with what I believed were hopelessly fast times.  Typically, I run a five-mile course in under 45 minutes.  From these prediction websites, I should run a marathon around 3:50, which is bordering on the absurd.  

I have my excuses for falling short of this lofty time – but maybe I’m built for shorter distances and my tall stature needs more calories.  I don’t do enough fast long runs.  Almost all of these are some variety of “I can’t.”  Maybe on a cool cloudy day I’d give it a shot, but on this warm sultry day, I wasn’t even going to try – I surely didn’t want to poop out in the earlier stages of the run.  I pinned my hopes on a pace group leading the way to a half-way decent time.  I have to admit, someday I’d like to prove myself wrong as well as proving some meaningless prediction algorithm right.

At the start, the course proceeded up Delaware Avenue with a slight incline.  The pacers led their group of runners at a slightly faster pace than the requisite 10:18 per mile.  I felt the effects of the gradual gradient in my increased running effort.  Within a half mile, sweat immediately began to pour off my face as if I had dunked my head into a bucket of water.

At Marathon Mile 2, runners veered left onto Chapin Parkway, a beautiful historic district lined with early twentieth century Queen Anne, Colonial and Tudor Revival homes fronting a tree-lined 200-foot wide median parkway encompassing numerous mature elm trees and cast iron decorative luminaires and granitic curbs.

At the Parkway’s terminus, runners rounded the traffic circle at the historic Soldier’s Place to the Lincoln Parkway only to turn back around at the 5 km mark of the course.  Thence, it was back through the Parkways retracing our steps to Marathon Mile 4 before making a right turn onto Linwood Avenue in the direction of the starting line and the 10 km split.

The clouds began to break enough permitting the sun to peak through momentarily along the tree-lined segment of Linwood Avenue.  My trepidations began to grow as the temperatures (air and body) steadily crept upward, as did the dew point.  I accepted the fact a brutal day awaited me.   

Realizing the pace leaders marched their group out a little too fast, the pacers relaxed their strides during Marathon Miles 4 and 5.  My sweat levels remained constant, and at each aid station, I drank about 4-6 ounces of water and/or electrolyte fluids, so I wasn’t all concerned about developing hyponatremia.  Besides, I carried with me a bottle of GLUKOSE energy drink for times I need a quick pick-me-up.

The next two miles led runners through an unshaded section of residential Buffalo crossing I-190 to the Buffalo Yacht Club.  Here, runners advanced along Amvets Drive through LaSalle Park along the Lake Erie waterfront to the Erie Basin Marina to Marathon Mile 10.  By the time I hit the 15 km split, I accepted that I needed to roll down the window and toss out my race plan, hoping no one would see me littering the marina grounds.

At this point in the race, the heat and humidity began to take its toll on my body and my fatigue level began to rise geometrically.  My legs told me they were done, and somehow, I was okay with that.  My legs did some good strong work over the last few months and if they wanted to take a day off, then I was going to roll with it.

BFD fire boat

I rolled past Marathon Mile 10 onto Erie Street for a quick out-and-back on a narrow man-made breakwater peninsula towards and around the Erie Basin Marina Observation Deck.  In front of the observation deck, a BFD fire boat floating in the lake water proudly displayed multiple streams of water shooting out from the onboard nozzles.

Leaving the marina area, runners dashed past the Buffalo Naval Park with views of the battleships moored at the docks and by the KeyBank Center, home to the NHL’s Buffalo Sabres, winding around some downtown streets to the half marathon finish in front of the convention center.

As I inched closer to the half marathon split, I really struggled and felt awful.  I lacked any kind of motivation or energy.  I was hot and sweating profusely.  I was no longer able to keep up with the 4:30 pace group and I was fraught with a huge mix of emotions.  For the sake of my health, should I call it a day?  Should I carry on and gut it out to the end?  Unlike any other marathon I’ve run, I seriously considered a marathon DNF, but collecting a half marathon medal just didn’t sit well with me.

I had to make a snap decision – make a right turn onto Pearl Street for the second half or stay to the left of the barrier leading to the finish line.  That finish line looked enticing, but I was in it for the long haul!  I’ve come this far and did not want to come back to New York again.  There was more of Buffalo I wanted to see, so I stayed to the right of the barriers and turned onto Pearl Street, crossing the half split in a time of 2:17:43.  With the event’s six hour cutoff, I had well over three hours to complete the second half.  So, I pressed on.

The second half:  (12:06, 13:23, 11:06, 10:38, 12:36, 13:12, 12:47, 15:27, 14:06, 13:04, 14:12, 16:32, 12:51, 10:48 projected pace [final 0.43 mi])

One of many murals along Hertel Avenue

The second half began with nowhere near the enthusiasm I had at the start of the first half.  Not long after calling it a day, I took two acetaminophen/caffeine tablets shortly after the first half split to take the edge off my surprisingly few aches and pains.  Besides, the caffeine usually provides an extra boost that lasts for a couple of miles.

The next three miles consisted of a straight course with a slight uphill ascent to the grounds of the Forest Lawn Cemetery.  Given my mile splits, it was evident I took it slow – until the caffeine took effect as I entered Delaware Park.  It was like a second wind, I was feeling as if I was running strong throughout the park grounds.

We exited Delaware Park at Marathon Mile 18 and looped back through some residential neighborhoods.  The kind residents in the area took the liberty to spray water onto the runners who wanted it, either with misters, sprinklers or simply using their thumb over the hose outlet.  I relished every “spray station” available and it felt great – for a few seconds anyway.  Just if someone could’ve dragged their hose and followed me to the finish line.

Around Marathon Mile 20.5, runners re-entered Delaware Park near the zoological gardens.  My pace seemed consistent with each mile stopping to walk at each aid station dumping water over my head or lapping down two to four cups of water and Gatorade, while consuming some energy gels every so often.  When ice was available, I would fill up my cap and place it over my head for a long-lasting cooling effect.

Marathon Mile 24

Runners once again crossed paths with the Soldier’s Place roundabout, but headed in the direction of Colonial Circle to the 40 km split on Delaware Avenue a few blocks past Symphony Circle.  I thought, “Just two short kilometers to go!  I can do it, pain or no pain.”

Just past Marathon Mile 25, I came upon a group of people under an EZ-up tent handing out Dixie cups of beer.  One guy kept chanting, “It starts with a ‘B’ and ends with an ‘R’.  What do you want?  BEER!”  He proceeded to hand me a half-full cup, which I couldn’t refuse, and drank it.  The cold wonderful tasting beverage was just what I needed, giving me the additional fuel I needed to round out the final mile of this monster.

The eternal mile felt like it went on forever – similar to the Maine Marathon.  I couldn’t think of anything other than how badly I was hurting.  I thought of a guy I saw a few times on the race course with a shirt that read, “Where the f**k is the finish line?”  I have never felt that way as strongly as I felt at that moment.

My Garmin beeped as Marathon Mile 26 passed, but my watch was about 0.2 mile short of the actual mile markers, so I had less than a half-mile left as I entered Niagara Square.

First, it was around the large traffic circle surrounding the McKinley Monument, then down a demoralizing short out-and-back section with a course marshal informing runners they had 300 yards to go.  “Less than a lap around the track.  Relax.  Finish with a smile.  Repeat.” I told myself as I kept plugging along.

I stepped up my pace, smiling to hide the pain and discomfort and attempted to appear strong as I rounded the final corner into the finish line chute on Franklin Street crossing under the gantry in a time of 5:11:47.

 

RACE STATS:

Distance: Marathon (26.2 mi) – my Garmin clocked it at 26.43 mi

Date: May 27, 2018

Bib No.: 75

Weather at start: 66°F, cloudy, muggy, light southwesterly breeze

Gun time: 5:13:54

Chip time: 5:11:47

Average cadence: 151 steps per minute

Average pace: 11:48 per mile

Overall rank: 908 of 1112

Gender rank: 529 of 654

Division rank: 43 of 52

Elevation: 384 ft gain / 390 ft loss

Half split: 2:17:43 (10:30 pace)

Average finish time: 4:28:19

Standard deviation: 0:49:50

Age graded score: 45.27%

Age graded time: 4:31:31

Garmin splits: 10:07, 10:09, 10:01, 10:24, 10:33, 10:08, 10:12, 10:21, 10:19, 10:15, 10:28, 10:30, 11:47, 12:06, 13:23, 11:06, 10:38, 12:36, 13:12, 12:47, 15:27, 14:06, 13:04, 14:12, 16:32, 12:51, 10:48 projected pace [final 0.43 mi]

I hunched over for a moment to gather my thoughts and to thank the Lord for giving me the strength to complete my mission as medical personnel descended upon me to check on my health status.  It gave me a good feeling knowing those kind professionals were there to assist anyone in need.  I was fine, but needed to wait for my legs to stop screaming and for my brain to start working again.

At the finish

I proceeded slowly up the finish area to receive my well-regarded and hard earned medal and a bottle of cold water.  There were even some Buffalo Bills players handing out medals.  I suppose they were the “lesser known players” since I had no clue as to who they were.  Perhaps because I am not a Bills follower, nor really a fan of the NFL, for that matter.

There wasn’t one dry spot on me as moisture continued to drip from my shirt and the hem of my shorts as I methodically made my way to the second floor of the convention center to join the after-party festivities and to meet up with my wife who saw me finish on the jumbo Tron.  The only escalator was locked in the down position, so, I had to unpleasantly walk up a flight of stairs to the second floor.  I was, and looked like, a mess as I set out to sample some pizza that has already assumed room temperature, cookies, pretzels, apples, bananas, and chocolate milk.  After enduring over five hours of total misery, I was happy to be away from the outdoor elements and into an air conditioned environment.

After 26.2 miles, I always find it tough to get moving once again after sitting idle, but we mustered up enough energy to slowly hobble ourselves back to our hotel.

No Standing?  What are you going to do about it?

We showered and took a refreshing break before loading our aching bodies into our car for a visit to Niagara Falls.  We couldn’t pass up on the opportunity since we were in Buffalo.  Who knows, it’s unlikely I’ll ever get another chance. 

We unfortunately forgot our passports, so a walk over into Canada was out of the plan, but viewing the falls from the US side was still amazing. 

At the time, I wondered if Niagara Falls was worth the hassle.  Finding a parking place near the state park in total gridlock was enough to piss-off the good humor man.  My patience wore thin and after an hour, we lucked out and found a spot on a not so nearby street.  It wasn’t in a bad location, but after running a marathon, together with the heat, we found it uncomfortable to walk to the viewing areas.

As I walked around the state park area, I looked for barrel vendors, but didn’t seem to find any.

Eluding and avoiding the huge crowds cramming the pathways throughout the state park while finding ways to view the falls was annoying, but I believe it was worth the effort. The fog-like mist of the falls provided cool and refreshing reprieves from the blazing heat.

While viewing the falls, my first thought was picturing those who have tumbled into the abyss in a barrel or some other contraption.  Seeing enormity and power of the water spilling over the ever-changing precipice, easily dissuaded me from doing some stunt like that.

On our way back to the hotel to wrap up an active day, we pointed ourselves to one of Buffalo’s Deep South Taco restaurants for a taste of some Tex-Mex cuisine.  My spicy one-pound chorizo burrito hit the spot.  Three and seven pound burritos were also on the menu, but I can’t imagine hammering down a seven pound burrito.

We slept in the next morning before our long drive back to Cleveland for our flight back to LAX.  We arrived home safe and sound and ready for our next challenge at Kentucky’s Hatfield & McCoy Marathon.

LIKES / WHAT WORKED:

• Great course throughout the city of Buffalo and surrounding cities.  Somewhat flat course with occasional uphill gradients.  What goes up must come down.
• Very well organized event from the expo to the cooling buses along the course.
• Volunteer support and residents using their hoses to spray runners with cold water.
• Medical support along the course and at the finish line.
• Air conditioned luxury buses parked at various locations along the course allowing runners an opportunity to cool themselves if they so desired.
• Thank you to the medical professionals that were concerned about my well-being – even though I felt as if I didn’t need any support.
• Hats off to the great spectators displaying their support!
• Mostly shady course.
• Easy parking, even though we walked from the hotel to the start/finish line.
• Nice long-sleeve quarter zip shirts, personalized bibs, and a finisher’s keepsake key chain and bottle opener.
• Pyrotechnics at the start and the patriotic theme of the event.
• The indoor after party with plenty of air conditioning, pizza, drinks, beer, chocolate milk, bananas, apples, cookies, bagels, pretzels and water.  And, a jumbo Tron to view runners crossing the finish line.
• The race organizers not cancelling the marathon due to heat indexes and black flag warnings.
• The patriotism on display during Memorial Day weekend.
• FINISHING!!

DISLIKES / WHAT DIDN’T WORK:

• The heat and the humidity.  I know, those are some elements that cannot be controlled.
• Hot and exposed for a good deal of the course.
• Long straight stretches of road and repeating those stretches two or three times.  I like turns onto various streets with diverse scenery.
• Street pavement conditions – broken pavement, potholes, alligator cracking, abrupt edges, etc.
• Only one escalator in the convention center’s stairwell.  Either that one escalator goes up or it goes down.  After a marathon, negotiating a flight of stairs can be a daunting task for some individuals.  Why not two escalators?
• The out-and-back segment at Marathon Mile 26 off the traffic circle on the south end of the McKinley Monument.  I know it’s an inconsequential part of the course, but I didn’t like it.

Final thoughts:

The Buffalo Marathon advertises the following on their website: “Flat and fast with one of the highest Boston qualifying percentages in the country.”  I had really hoped to finish Buffalo on an exciting note, once again it was just not the day.  While I may never (and probably will never) know what it feels like to have the “BQ” credentials after my name, I can see why they advertise this.  To my knowledge, I do not recall a major hill during the course.  There were slight inclines here and there, with one significant hill in and around Delaware Park, but the slight inclines that started the course, were the slight inclines going the opposite direction during the middle and also end of the course.  So there were times on the course where the slope helped you pick up speed and make up for lost time.  But when you’re tired and worn out beyond belief, I found that the slight downhill gradients don’t do much for me.

Would I recommend this marathon to others?  Yes, I would, but prepare yourself for any kind of weather.  It can be unpredictable.

I know for sure, I’m not a hot-weather runner.  My performances verify that fact.  Even though I didn’t return home with the time I had hoped for, I can still pat myself of the back for gutting it out during a difficult marathon (at least for me) and for a job well done.

Onward and upward!

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!