St George Marathon Review

I arrived in St George yesterday afternoon, making a beeline for the expo.  I figured since St George and Phoenix are at roughly the same elevation, little to no acclimation would be necessary for once!  I met up with two other INKnBURN ambassadors for dinner-it was so neat putting faces/people with names I see on the interwebs all the time  :-)

The Pizza and Pasta Factory actually did a marathoners special where you got all you can eat pasta, salad and breadsticks for $11-it was a recipe for the perfect carb-loading dinner!  After a discussion with Nahoko, who had run the race the previous year, I decided it would be prudent to run to Target and get some extra warmth for the morning.  Evidently the start is typically wayyyyy colder than down in St George-I found this out the next day.

At the Start

After the typical pre-race rituals complete with tossing and turning, I eventually fell asleep.  I was going to attempt to get to the busses at 4AM to put my name in for some Early Bird drawings, but when the alarm went off, body said no.  After a few rounds with the snooze, I rolled out of bed with butterflies in my stomach.  I set two goals.  Primary was to get my first sub-4 hour marathon.  If I couldn't achieve that, I at least wanted to PR.  My current PR was a 4:16:22.  I knew with the three sets of uphills and the severe downhills, either goal would be a daunting task as my quads and hamstrings were still a little tender from Imogene the month before.  After waiting in line for roughly twenty minutes, I boarded the bus.  The guy that I shared a seat with was from Oregon and was a race organizer for the Crater Lake Marathon and Half.  We chatted most of the way about the differences between Oregon and Arizona, the course and what we were getting ourselves into.  He had only been running about a year and this was his first marathon.  Knowing the damage that downhills can do to your quads and knees, I pitied him silently.  

We unloaded the busses and I headed straight over to the bathroom.  I hadn't gone yet and I knew that would be a recipe for disaster if I didn't before the gun went off.  It seemed like FOREVER waiting in the bathroom line.  I think it was partly because the people in front of me weren't paying attention, but I was able to strike up a conversation with the people behind me (like I do).  They were from the Valley as well and we discussed the different races we had done and were going to do.  It's always neat when you are out of town to run into some people from back home  :-)

After the bathroom, I stripped all my cold weather clothing, handed in my bag and went to line up.  I chose to line up with the 3:45-ers thinking that as long as I could hang with them for awhile, I would be golden.  As I was chatting with the people around me, Deni wandered over-I was so sad that I had checked my phone because we were all matchy-matchy in our INKnBURN outfits!  Star Spangled Banner was played and then we were off.  I didn't really look back.  I knew Deni was there somewhere behind me, but I didn't see her again after that first half mile.  I FLEW through my 5k and 10k, posting my 4th best 5k time and 2nd best 10k time ever.  After that, we hit the dreaded hills.  It was somewhere between 7 and 9 where I decided I was never doing another marathon.  I was over it.  This was ridiculous, hills hurt and I hated roads.  Where were my trails and selfies and fun and Cholla Chicks when I needed them?!?!?!?  I was ready to throw in the towel.  I lost a chunk of my shoe at mile eleven and that almost did me in. I mean, seriously?!??!  These shoes had 17 miles on them at that point.  I don't care if I don't pick up my feet and shuffle a little when I run.  The sole should last more than 17 miles.  

Then, I found a flat road again.  Things started to look up.  I realized when I hit the half point, I posted my second fastest half time ever and the first glimmer of hope hung on the horizon.  Could I? Would I?  I refused to entertain the hope that I would break four hours.  Instead, I settled for the thought that I was almost guaranteed a PR at that point if I could just hang on...  

I do want to take this moment and send an apology out into cyberspace to the guy that passed me on the left around mile fifteen.  I always blow my snotrockets to the left and I'm afraid I may have hit him with one.  So, Mr. Guy in the blue tank and black shorts, I'm sorry.

Downhill.  More downhill.  A gradual two mile uphill.  Then more downhill.  My quads were on FIRE and my knees were throbbing.  Whoever said downhill was easy was totally kidding themselves.  That, or they were made of titanium.  One last uphill and then we were on the freeway and it was all downhill from there-metaphorically speaking.  From about mile 21 to the finish, the streets were lined with people.  I kept calculating and re-calculating my time.  It didn't really hit me that I was going to actually go sub-4 until I hit my last mile and figured out I would have to finish that mile in 11 minutes to hit four hours.  I was not going 11 minutes/mile at that point.  The smile started creeping up on my previously fatigued and disheveled face.  My sticky hands (from gatorade and gu residue) stuck to the kiddos hands as I high-fived the ones lining the street, but they didn't care and neither did I.  As I was coming up on the finish line, I passed a guy who was limping with a police motor escort next to him.  He refused to give up and so did I.  I crossed at 3:58:32 chip time and promptly broke into sobs.  I had done it.  My goal for the season-a goal I never would have even dreamed possible two years ago with my asthma, achieved.