Race Review - SLC Marathon - Boston Strong

It was a very intense week, indeed.

After the tragic events that occurred at the finish line of the Boston Marathon on 4/15/2013, the Salt Lake City Marathon was to be one of the first distance races that would be taking place in the U.S. since that horrific day.  Security at the race was a major concern.  The safety of the runners, the race volunteers and the spectators would be of paramount importance.  Would the additional security and heightened tensions surrounding the event have an effect on those in attendance?  The Trail Monkeys wouldn't really know how the race turned out, because none of the OTM were signed up for the SLC Marathon.

Until Tuesday.

On Tuesday, I got a call from my brother-in-law, who had been training all winter for the Salt Lake City Marathon to be his first marathon.  Unfortunately a bad case of shin splints were forcing him to withdraw from the race, and he wanted to know if I wanted to run in his place.  Sounds fun, right?  Does it really matter that my longest run this calendar year was 15 miles?  No way!  That's plenty of practice.  Should I be concerned that on Friday, the day before the race, my legs were still incredibly sore (Dead Quads are an Olympus gift) from the previous Saturday's Olympus climb?  Not at all!  Is it really a problem that I've sworn off marathon distances because of pain and injuries sustained from other distance runs?  Forget all that!  And so I decided to ignore everything practical about this event and run in my brother-in-law's place (ssshhhh, don't tell anyone.  I think taking the place of another runner is illegal).

Front of the Tech-shirts passed out by Altra.   Back: "Keep Running"

Everything about the race was a tribute to the Boston Marathon.  People wore Yellow and Blue (the official colors of the Boston Marathon).  There was a moment of silence at the beginning of the race to honor those effected by the bombing on Monday.  Altra passed out some great tech shirts to anyone who wanted to wear them.  People wore Red Sox and Bruins jerseys, Boston ball caps and Celtics apparel.  We sang "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond at the start of the race and at the finish line, which is a Fenway Park tradition, usually sung by Red Sox faithful during the 7th inning stretch.  (sidenote:  Sweet Caroline has no direct ties to Baseball, to Boston, or to the Red Sox, it's just a wacky baseball tradition.  I personally think the reason people sing this at Fenway Park has to do with a mid-90's movie called Beautiful Girls, in which they have a sing-a-long to Sweet Caroline in a bar much like they do at Fenway.  The movie takes place in Boston.  Check out the movie clip of this scene here.  You can never have too much Uma.)  And a handful of Utah Runners that ran the Boston Marathon the previous week ran the race in 4:09, timing their crossing of the finish line at the exact time that the bombs went off in Boston the previous Monday.

The race itself was cold and wet, as it rained for the first 3 hours of the race (maybe it was a nod to Boston to have such cold weather).  This made for some painful chaffing.  Remind me not to wear my heart-rate-monitor on long and rainy runs.  The course was fairly flat, however, and I stuck to my race plan of being the tortoise, not the hare (start slow and steady, finish slow and steady).  My time was much better than I could have hoped for with so little preparation (3:52:40).  And it may have been a stitch long (my Garmin showed 26.4 miles, as did three others I checked with after the race.  If you don't think there's a big difference between 26.2 and 26.4 miles, you haven't run a marathon).

My Boston "Run Now" Bracelets.  These babies made it all 26.2 miles.

But the most memorable part of this race was the positivity of everyone along the race course.  There is a camaraderie among runners that is tangible, especially on race day, and you do end up encouraging one another during the race or even in passing someone on the street or trails.  But this was like no other race experience I have had.  People cheered when you passed their houses, even cars stuck in race day traffic had their windows down with a smile and a cheer.  I was surprised at the psychological effect this had on me personally, as each time I smiled back to some stranger in their car or along the side of the road I did have a burst of energy, and extra push.  You didn't want to let anyone down.  The power of community is contagious and sweeping, and it sure helps to have that support when you start to falter, or slow down, or have a low point.

This week, despite the challenges of weather, lack of preparation, fatigue, and whatever else came along, the support from those around us on the course helped us run stronger.  Boston Strong.

Wet, Sore, and Smiley.  

An Olympus Style Return to the Trails

After having suffered a torn soleus muscle in my calf, a stress fracture in my right heel, and an autistic child who had to be hospitalized for self injurious behavior, I finally made a return to the trails this last week.  Technically, my 6 weeks of rest doesn't end till Tuesday, but I decided to use this as a "soft opening."  This was also a return of sorts for Sam and Jake, being Sam's first official outing since the Buffalo 50, and Jake's first trail run in about 9 weeks or so.

In summary, it was Olympus.  Which means you are guaranteed to be gasping for breath at some point.  The trail conditions were pretty good until the second creek bed, which had a steady stream of runoff.  The staircase was slippery, and except for a few icy spots, the final scramble wasn't too bad.  Snow still covered the final ridge and summit, which always makes for some good photos.  Our final time was just under 2 hours, which isn't too bad considering I haven't done much of anything the last 6 weeks.  Although, as I'm writing this post, I'm realizing I'm a lot more sore than I thought I would be.  Olympus... you're still our favorite.

Sam and Jake approaching the saddle.  The last part of the "endless staircase."

Sam on the summit.  With an official Trail runner goatee.

Steve, descending the ridge line.

The Long Trail of Healing

Trail-runner-to-be at Snow Canyon, St. George, UT.

Two weeks have passed since my 50 miler on Antelope Island and the massive injuries I accrued during training and culminating during the race itself.

1. Very sore IT band.
2. Very sore patella on the same knee.
3. Very sore foot on the other leg due to compensating for the other injuries. Actually, I think I may have sprained it somehow. I had a small amount of bruising along the outside of my foot the day after the race. That went away quickly but the pain did not.
4. Very sore tendons that lead to the big toe on both feet.
5. Very sore bottom part of front leg connected to the very sore tendons that lead to the big toe (Sing it with me, "The foot bone's connected to the ankle bone..."). 
6. Minor patella pain on the other knee.
7. Maybe an inkling of some pain on the other IT band, maybe.

After one week most of these injuries have gone away and all have subsided. It took me a whole week to be able to walk normally again and I have decided to wait three weeks before attempting any runs. This last week was Spring Break and my family went down to St. George. While visiting Snow Canyon I ran with my three-and-three-quarter year old (his words, not mine) son for a few snapshots. That consisted of jogging across the camera's field of vision four or five times--maybe two or three total minutes of running. I didn't have any IT band pain but quite a bit of patella pain, which only lasts while running. Anyway, the next day I woke up with no pain whatsoever, until a few hours past and my IT band suddenly shot lightning bolts up and down my leg. OUCH!

The short story is that healing takes time, more time than any athlete wants to give it, but must, in order to remain injury free in the future.

Winston said to me after running and taking photos "Am I a Monkey now?"