My Utah Marathon Experience: Huntsville Marathon
Earlier this year when I ran the Rome Marathon, I got it on my heart to run in Florence this Fall. There was a remarkable hallway at the race expo with booths advertising all of the other marathons you could run in Italy and Europe, and the idea of Florence swept me away just like the thought of Rome did. Its slogan was "Run In Art," and so I planned to be back later in the year.
So far, running twice a year has been the right number for me. It's the balance between dying and regenerating/forgetting about the pain in time for the next one. I love running marathons, because they are just so hard, and I think that the amount of strain directly correlates with the feeling of euphoria. I can go through that about twice a year.
In order to get to Florence and acclimate myself before running I'd have to be there for at least a few days beforehand but I wound up with a job opportunity that took it out of the picture for me. So then I looked at Assisi, a very close second option, and then a new, different job came up that would conflict with both Florence and Assisi, and most of the rest of the year.
I could run the Toronto Marathon again, since that was where the job was, but I don't know... I didn't think I could stomach running the same marathon twice. There's something about not knowing the course that can fool you a little bit, fool you into keeping going, whereas running the same course feels like it would be traumatic. There was the Wineglass Marathon again, another closeby option in Upstate New York, but I would run into the same problem.
This new job was going to start almost immediately, in a week and a half, so I started to look at marathons I could run that weekend, and I found one in Utah. It was called Hunstville Marathon. The Full Monte, it said. It was about a ten hour drive from LA. It looked nice and small and scenic, and I chose it.
So there I was, six days away from a marathon in Utah that I didn't train for.
I usually have a process when it comes to training for marathons (as you should). For me, it's essentially to do one 30km training run three weeks before the marathon. I think I got that idea from Jean Benoit's Masterclass. What I know for sure is that you're supposed to taper down your mileage in the weeks leading up to the marathon, and that at least I had done.
I hadn't run over 15 kms since the Rome marathon in March six months prior. I had to trust that the running I had been doing lately was enough, and hope for the best.
The day came and I got in the car at 5am and started on my way to Utah. First, I stopped at Noah's bagels on Larchmont (because the pre-marathon bagel is a ceremony for me) and then drove through the desert, red rock mountains, and finally to the beautifully picturesque landscape of Salt Lake city before going into little Ogden to pick up my packet.
Driving down the streets of Ogden had me wondering if I was living in the wrong place! It had the sweetest historical downtown district lined with hundred year old trees, and all of the streets sloped upward towards the serene mountainscape. It was clean and peaceful and it still looked like there were things to do there, with hotels and restaurants (okay maybe it sounds like I am a little deprived of nice things for living in LA).
When I pulled into the parking lot at the Ogden Marriott for the race expo I saw a few runners. I could tell they were runners because they were walking with their little treat bags, plus they had the overall gack/ runner vibe. I mention this every time but the race expos always have such a good energy to them. Everyone is in such anticipation and at their peak health.
When I went into the small conference room they held the expo in, I saw just how small the race was going to be. Lakanto was there giving away their new, non-alcoholic, sugar-free drinks, which normally I would be into, but you have to be careful before a race. Pre-race nutrition isn't like regular nutrition. You want food that breaks down into energy the fastest and most efficiently. So it's pretty much plain white pasta.
I opted for a pizza when I got to my hotel in Huntsville, and then went to sleep after a little evening stroll around the park where they set up the finish line. Huntsville was even more quaint than Ogden. The town seemed to be centered around a lush, safe park that had children playing in it (again my LA is showing). The houses had big yards with no fences and large, wrap-around porches. There was one main street that had the hotel, a general store, an art gallery, and a saloon established in the 1800s.
I was in heaven and in love, as I like to say. It was really the beginning of a trip where I felt closeness to God. There's something about running marathons that always make me feel that way... it's the hours spent on the road with no distractions, no decisions to make other than putting one foot in front of the other and taking in the surroundings. And what a lovely location for it. America has some really special places that I would like to explore more of.
On the morning of the marathon I ate my bagel, packed my phone into my new Stella McCartney running vest along with four of my Huma energy gels. I didn't take my phone out with me for my last couple of marathons because I think about the energy it takes just to handle it. This time I forgot my apple watch charger, though (and obviously I have to record the workout on Strava).
I put on my running hat, because I have to be careful of the sun now. Then I got onto a school bus, one of five of them that were waiting right outside of my hotel (so well planned).
I rode with the other runners half an hour up the mountain as the sun slowly started to peak over, and that was when I realized it was a downhill race. Another thing I noticed was how long the drive was. That always surprises me when I make my way to the start.
We arrived just before 7am to a line of portapotties. I waited for one, and then put my drop bag into a white van and made my way to the start line. As the time drew nearer to 7 and all of the runners gathered around, I really saw how small the race was! It was tiny. There were only three hundred and sixty runners, my next smallest race was one thousand.
There weren't any corrals, just one single pacer holding a 3:45 sign. I decided I wanted to run it in 3:30, since my previous super fast one was 3:28, which was also downhill.
Then we were off. It always starts so pleasantly. Everyone embarking on their journey together. The beautiful mountain top at the best part of the morning. I was listening to music this time, after experiencing technical difficulties on my last two marathons. I had a mix of Christian music, jazz standards and classical.
What more could you ask for? Everything was good. In the beginning it's usually mostly about trying not to run too fast. It was just beautiful mountainscape on and on and on, then we got to the halfway point, and the course started to flatten out. I told myself to pick it up for the last half but unfortunately I just didn't have it in me to go any faster than the first.
The last quarter was brutal (it always is). I thanked God for helping me to do something that I could not do with my own strength. I told myself I was really doing it, and that I would finish it. The last six miles I just had to close my eyes and get through. One foot in front of the other. I told myself that if I ran faster... it would be over sooner.
Once we came down from the mountain it felt like we circled that little town around and around and around on long, flat country roads forever. Slowly but surely, though, I inched toward that park that I knew was in the center. As I rounded the corner that I thought surely was the last, I asked the person at the aid station how much longer until the finish line. I thought I should have seen it already. "One mile." She said. Another mile?!
The race turned out to be an extra .5 of a kilometer than a standard marathon, which is pretty serious, in my opinion. After running for forty-two and thinking you've made it, that extra half of a kilometer is like... it's totally rotten, a really, really terrible feeling. But I did eventually make it to the end, and I crossed the finish line.
I climbed up the stairs and got into the shower. I had the handicap room, to my delight, which was helpful for getting myself into the shower. And then I hobbled back downstairs and back to the park to eat from the food trucks and print out a little ticket with my race results. 3:38:44 1 F30-35 18 Female 65 Overall. I was happy with that.
I took the rest of the next day and a half walking around and exploring Ogden not to let my muscles seize up. I watched the horses graze in the field before the sun set, and took in the unobstructed view of the starry night sky. I went to The Greenery Restaurant, which was connected to a craft and gift emporium that my Granny would have loved.
And then I came back home, a little more full. Very sore, and with two less big toenails. I found that the little code on my race ticket meant that I won first place in my age division. It was a really nice race.
My other marathon experiences: First Two, Ventura, Big Bear, Rome
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