what goes up must come down--like it or not

It's over. It's finally over. Maybe this isn't the best day to blog about the Top of Utah Marathon, but I wanted to share pics with Cree who was, of course, unable to join us. But I'm still a little grouchy about this, my second-slowest race.

Paige and I signed up for it when we were the only two members of the family not to get a spot in our beloved St. George Marathon. From mile 1, this marathon had a lot to live up to. The boys and I made the trek out to Utah a few days earlier, and my parents were so gracious to watch them while we went up to Logan the night before. Jody joined us as our support person (thanks, Jode!), and we spent the night in a charming bed and breakfast just blocks from the finish line. We got Olive Garden take out, walked around TJ Maxx, and splurged on Ben & Jerry's. Kind of like a mini girls trip! So fun. Too bad we had to get up at 5:00am and run 26.2 miles!
Training this year was hard on me. The long runs were almost impossible to schedule with Christian working so much, and my medium-long runs were few and far between. In fact, I did about half my training on the treadmill, which is, for me, the worst way to train. Running alone is hard, too. I lost my running partner Kay when she moved to Taiwan last year and never found another. Christian actually got me out to do quite a few shorter runs with him (thanks, Love!), which was fun, but even pushing the jogging stroller he leaves me in the dust. With no one to talk to, I start talking to myself in my head. It only makes me feel slightly crazy. I am not a competitive person, but I find myself becoming oddly competitive with other runners on the trail, talking to them in my head as well. Each person who passes me at a quicker clip I pretend to remind them, "You may be going faster than me, but I'm on mile 18 of 20, and you're going a mere three miles today. Take that, Speedy Gonzales." So not me! But all that goes away during the marathon, since we're all in the same boat, and I'm slower than most. I have no room to talk, even to myself. After all that lonely training, I was so excited to run the race with Paige. We hardly get to see each other, and we had trained about the same amount, so I was hopeful we could stay together through most of the race.

We started at Hardware Ranch up Blacksmith Fork Canyon near Logan, Utah. Our fleece went unused--it wasn't the chilly 20° we expected. More like 45°. Warmer than St. George's start! The beginning of the course was beautiful. The changing leaves and flowing stream were diverting. The winding downhill seemed fast and easy. Good conversation rendered our iPods unnecessary until mile 17. And the best part? The oranges! Orange slices are so refreshing during a difficult run. They only offer them at one or two stops during St. George, but they had them at almost every aid station in this race. That scored seriously high in my book.

The first half of the race was so great. It would make an awesome half-marathon (there actually is a half marathon--too bad I didn't sign up for that instead!). Unfortunately, just after halfway we entered the valley and began running through neighborhoods on a flat, uninteresting route. That was the race's only downfall. And I guess you could say this is when I lost it. Paige still had it, but I could not help but walk every half mile. She was in my sights, but I couldn't summon the energy to catch up to her. Blessed girl, she waited for me on several occasions, and we were together until mile 23. That's when I started to get emotional, and that is not a good thing. One thought of the finish line, seeing my family, or just stopping, and I literally get choked up, my throat closing off and my lungs beginning to tighten. I can't breathe, which triggers another walk break. I know this about myself, but it happens every year. My thighs and calves were cramping, despite the Icy-Hot, and the bottoms of my feet felt like raw hamburger. The altitude (5500-4500 feet compared to Seattle's sea level) was a killer on my lungs. I felt like I could not get a deep breath the entire time. Then, I watched at mile 25 as a 65+ year-old couple, an older man leaning heavily to the right as if he was about to fall over, and a woman who had speed-walked the entire race passed me by. At 26 a well-meaning spectator shouted, "Only .2 more to go!" I wanted to slap her. You have no idea how difficult that .2 are when you've already run an excruciating 26 miles. It's torture.

But then, I saw my dad and James. James ran out and grabbed my hand, pulling me along as he ran by my side. Then he just took off, running at a pace I couldn't possibly match, looking as if he was about to win a gold medal. Around the corner was Addy with my mom, Lind, and Jody. Hooray! And none of them told me I was almost there. Thank you! Addy ran out and grabbed my other hand and we ran after James.

It was so fun to cross the finish line with my boys, even though I was sad to be a half hour behind my anticipated time. We had ice cream sandwiches and fishy crackers and the boys told me all about the dinosaur museum they attended with Grandma and Grandpa the night before. Their sweet faces made the whole thing worth it. I just want to thank Peen for being such a great running partner, friend, and sister. I could not have finished this race without her. She made the first 17 miles fly by, and got me to run when I didn't think I could. And she did so great! She met the goal we made together when we were feeling a little behind at mile 13. I'm sorry I couldn't stick with you, but I'm so thankful for all those miles I could. Thanks for getting me through my 6th and second-hardest marathon! Love you, pal!
P.S. Tonight we had a bite to eat at 5 Guys Burgers. The best part of running a marathon is being able to eat this with a big Coke and not feel one ounce of guilt.