Running at New Heights

Join me in a math problem: If a guy runs a marathon in California on June 6 and then runs another marathon in Colorado on June 14, how many days of recovery did he have?

The answer: Seven

The guy: Me

This past Sunday I completed my 7th marathon of the year and 2nd marathon during the month of June, by running in Estes Park, Colorado. If you have been following along since January, my original plan was for Estes Park to count as the June event in my "Marathon a Month" quest. Out of a desire to see a new place and thanks to a last minute trip to the Bay area, I added the Forest of Nisene Marks Marathon last week. While that even was not part of the original plan, it did count as my June run. I think it also also permits me to label this quest as "12 Marathons in 12 Months in 12 States." OK, it's actually 13 Marathons in 12 Months in 12 States, but work with me here.

Despite what little good judgment I possess, I still decided to go ahead with Estes Park. My legs felt reasonably good at that time, due to some last minute changes to my family's travel schedule I was going to be in Colorado on my own and, most importantly, I did not receive a finisher's medal for the California marathon. Candidly, I put myself through 26.2 miles on Sunday just so I could have a medal for the June marathon.

Estes Park is incredibly picturesque, as noted by the pictures you will see in today's blog entry. I left my motel (not a hotel) at 5:30 a.m. and before I had driven a mile I saw two elk and a deer grazing on the hill beside the road. In fact, the Estes Park Marathon instructions warn you about the possibility of encountering wildlife while you run. That was not a warning included in the Boston Marathon race information sheet.

Candidly, early Sunday morning I did not feel real excited about running the entire event. I got myself to the start line with the idea I would run the first 14 miles and then, since I'd be near my car, step off the course and count the day as high altitude training.

The course begins near Estes Park High School and, at least from my perspective, is mostly uphill for the first six miles. In fact, the start line is at an elevation of about 7,500 feet and, by mile six, has climbed to an elevation of 8,150 feet. On this day, by mile five I was pretty sure it would just be a short training run...maybe much less than the 14 mile idea I had at the starting line.

Once I made it to the top of the course I showed my excitement by having one of the course marshals take this picture. You'll note the altitude must have affected my mind as I am striking a Michael Jackson pose with my one glove look!

I am amazed in looking at the picture (to the left) that the scene behind me looks flat! I assure you it was not flat. In fact, once I reached the high point I began an eight-mile descent to the course's low point, which was 7,420 feet. The low point of the course is in a park just beneath a dam that is pictured to the right.

The course's low elevation is reached at about 12 miles in and I was feeling really good at this point. So good, in fact, that I decided to run by the 14 mile mark and finish the marathon...all because I wanted that medal.

Things moved along nicely from mile 12 to mile 13. On the way to mile 14 I stopped to take a picture of somebody wading through a stream while fly fishing. In 32 marathons, this was the first time I have ever observed someone fly fishing along the course.

I encountered a bit of a problem at mile 15. Specifically, the course started back up hill. Honestly, it was not far in to this new incline that I just decided to walk. Now, I walked as quickly as I could, but I walked. You've heard the expression "there was no gas left in the tank." Thanks to the elevation and running a marathon 8 days earlier, I did not even have a tank much less any gas to put in the tank. My thighs were just flat out tired. So, I walked most of the way up to mile 20, which is at an elevation of about 7,900 feet.

The good news is the course headed slightly downhill for the next two miles to mile 22. The bad news at this point is I still had four miles to go to reach that medal, which was becoming known to me as "that stupid medal that I just have to have."

Needless to say, I struggled the rest of the way in to the finish. Walk a little bit, "run" a little bit, walk more, "run" even more slowly, dump a cup of ice water in my face, walk a bit more. You probably get the idea.

My official time was 5:12:01, which is my second slowest time ever. Keep in mind, I ran a 3:55 marathon just six months ago. If it had not taken any pictures, I would have saved at least a second or two.

I'll leave you with the sign of the day picture, which doesn't have much meaning but is a nice view!