Inaugural Monument Marathon

The Monument at sunrise.

Running a marathon was not something I'd given much thought to until I joined the runner's group in Keene during my last year there. Even then I was much more enthusiastic about running a half-marathon than I was about running a full marathon. 26.2 seemed, to me, to be an insurmountable distance.

Then, in May, I came across an announcement about an inaugural marathon and half-marathon slated to be held in Gering in October. A marathon that started and ended right in my own backyard? One that would require me to drive all of four miles across town, would let me sleep in my own bed the night before, and didn't have a high price tag? I started to give running a marathon some serious thought. Early registration ended on June 15th, and I made the decision to run the full marathon that day. I figured if all else failed I could drop down to the half on race day.

This is officially Landmark Country. Another gem that was in my swag bag.

Hoping to meet some other runners here in town that were close to my speed, I joined one of the training groups being put on by the high school cross-country coach. This plan didn't work out quite as I'd hoped though, mostly because weekend work events and August vacation prevented me from attending many of the Saturday long runs. Also, folks would chat a bit when everyone showed up at the beginning of the run, but at the end they all scattered instead of meeting up somewhere for coffee and rolls. Made me really, really miss Brewbaker's runs and post-run coffee and muffins.

Marathon training is hard. Marathon training when you're driving across an area the size of New Hampshire a couple times a week and often working 6 day weeks is really hard. Getting in my long runs proved to be the most difficult part unless I wanted to run them Sunday evenings before the start of another long week. And, generally speaking, I didn't. So I ended up running some of them split; Friday evenings and Saturday mornings. Turns out this method will only get you so far in marathon training, but it did give me a solid fitness base. The main thing I noticed was that I was tired all. the. time. Fortunately Pavlov the wonder cat never seemed to mind when I'd go to bed by 8pm every night.

Sleeping is what I do best. I am the king of sleeping.

Pavlov the Wonder Cat in his younger years.

About ten days before the marathon the weather took a turn towards winter. Within 24 hours we went from mid-70's to 20 degrees, and by the next day we had snow on the ground. That was when I started worrying about what the weather would be like on marathon day. Snow by itself wouldn't be so bad, but the chances of a snowstorm moving through without a strong north wind were pretty slim, and wind on this course would be unpleasant. Highly unpleasant. Those of you who know me well will already be familiar with my slight obsession with the NOAA weather website. During the week leading up to the marathon I become fully obsessed with that site. My friend Bill, who sings in the choir with me, was running the half, and he gave me some good pre-race and race-day advice for my first marathon: rest up, eat plenty of carbs, stay hydrated, and, most importantly, have fun on race-day.

 Friday the 12th I went by WNCC to pick up my race packet and swag bag. After wandering around for a bit feeling entirely out of place in this sea of incredibly fit-looking people, I slipped back out to my car and looked through my swag bag there. And promptly burst into laughter when I found the bag of dried pinto beans from the Kelley Bean Company, a locally-based dried bean corporation. They'd also included the "Official Kelley Bean Company, Inc. Cookbook". We know how to do race swag right here in Nebraska. After homemade pizza for dinner, I took myself off early to bed with my alarm set for 5am. Have I mentioned the delightful upside of running a race in your backyard with an 8am start-time?

Yup, that is, in fact, the Official Kelley Bean Co. Cookbook.

Saturday morning I woke up to the wind howling around my apartment. Oh joy. 6am found me dressed, contacts in, gear bag packed, and attempting to eat my breakfast. By 6:25 I'd arrived at Five Rocks Amphitheater in Gering, the start of the half-marathon, finish for both, and shuttle pickup for the marathon. As I stepped out of Kia, I was nearly knocked off my feet by a gust of wind, and then jumped a bit as I saw lightening flash across the southeastern sky, any following thunder completely masked by the wind. "Oh great, this is gonna be such fun," I thought as I headed to pick up my timing chip.

There was a beautiful sunrise in between lightening flashes and just before the downpour.

By the time our bus reached the Wildcat Hills Nature Center, the wind had slowed a bit, but rain was still threatening, and fifteen minutes before the start of the race the skies opened and the deluge began. After a summer and early fall of drought conditions, the ferocity of the rain was entirely unexpected. With yelps and squeals, we runners made our way down the path to the start line (aka the parking lot). One of the race organizers cajoled reluctant runners out into the rain with the promise that it wasn't raining at the bottom of the hill, 2 miles down the road. Then the national anthem was sung, the starting horn was sounded, and we took off, all 97 of us. It's kind of nice to not have a crowd at the starting line.

And we're off in a puddle of rain! (Thanks to Amanda for this photo)

I focused on not taking off down the hill, and soon fell into step with two other runners, one of whom was also running her first-ever marathon that day. Soon enough we had run out from under the rain clouds, and although the clouds remained for the rest of my race, we only hit heavy rain one other time, around mile 16. I ended up running nearly the entire race with a gentleman named Kenny, who lives in Rapid City, SD. This was his third marathon, and he provided great conversation and company.

I didn't start getting tired until mile 16 when we ran through Mitchell Pass, along the Oregon Trail route, were running directly into the wind, and were getting rained on once again. From then on I got progressively more tired, and transitioning from running to walking at aid stations became more and more difficult and painful. No one told me about that part...that stopping running hurts like hell, and then starting up again hurts just as bad. However, aside from that things went really well. The course through the badlands was spectacular in the understated manner of the western plains, aid stations were fully stocked with water, Gatorade, bananas, oranges, and cheerful volunteers who spent their Saturdays in the cold and rain, and I got Ibuprofen at mile 22 which made everything better.

My only complaint, really, was that the last 0.1 of the race was on small, loose, river rock. Yeah, those small, smooth, oval stones that shift under your feet. There were volunteers stationed there to give us warning, but pea gravel would have been much nicer to turn onto. And thankfully I didn't fall. I sprinted up that last bit, passing a few people, and crossed the finish line where I was given my medal, had my timing chip removed by a helpful volunteer who was sitting on the ground so I didn't have to bend over, and got a space blanket to block the wind.

Post-race photo at my car...those feet just ran 26.2 miles.

Official race photos (hopefully)The above link will hopefully take you to a few of my favorite official race photos. If not, you can just search for me under vinson95 or baker7vinson95 (Kenny's last name) and see photos.

Bib, shirt, and medal from my first marathon!

                                                 

Post-marathon just after arriving home. Still smiling!

Overall the entire experience taught me quite a bit about where I stand mentally and physically. I never hit the proverbial mental "wall" that is often talked about in marathons, and I would credit that in part to the mental training I learned while rowing in college. Physically I just hit a point where changing from running to walking was incredibly painful, but I never felt as though I was going to die. Actually, one of the first thoughts through my head after I crossed the finish line was, "This was fun, maybe I'll run this again next year." The Monument Marathon really can't be beat for organization, friendliness of volunteers, clean porta potties, or historical coolness. I mean, where else do you get to run along the Oregon Trail, the California Trail, the Mormon Trail, AND the Pony Express Route?

A nice surprise for me was learning that I placed third in my age division! And before any of you start thinking I'm really super fast, no, no I'm not. It was a small race. And all the fast women are in the age division above me.

Why yes, that is my name in the newspaper.

Third place in division: not too shabby for my first marathon.

So, if anyone's looking to run a delightful fall marathon or half-marathon next year, feel free to come join me! I'll show you all the sights and take you out for the best food in town (which rivals the food of big cities). They're thinking the last Saturday in September for 2013 as Denver Rock & Roll has moved into mid-October. That Saturday is also a Huskers bye week, which is the only way they'd get all their volunteers and traffic cops.