What a difference two years makes… I ran this in its inaugural year, 2008, and
finished 48th overall and 2nd in my division. Never mind that there were only 102 total
runners and #1 in my division finished almost 35 minutes ahead of me. This year, running a smidge faster, I
finished 559th overall and 46th in my division. In two years, UVM went from 102 runners to almost
1400—and that doesn’t include the ½ marry and 5k runners.
I live in an old house—built in the late 1800’s—the very
same house my mom grew up in. When
built, there wasn’t any indoor plumbing or forced-air heating system. The outhouse was outback somewhere and a
fireplace in the living room and the stove in the kitchen provided the
heat. To cool things off in the summer
windows were opened. Maybe. Maybe the windows didn’t slide open and shut
like they do nowadays.
At various points during this home’s existence, upgrades
were made including plumbing; and finally in the 80’s (1980’s) a small
wall-based forced air furnace was installed.
The vent for this furnace comes through the wall from the living room
into my bedroom and then up through the ceiling. When it rains, some of that rain drips down
through the venting and into a bucket I’ve made a permanent piece of
furniture. As long as I empty the bucket
after each rain storm and keep the fans blowing, my room doesn’t smell like a
dank French prison. The kitchen is
another story all together. There’s no
hope for the kitchen. And whoever said
mold was hazardous needs to spend 5 or 6 years living with a moldy bathroom and
kitchen—I think a body adapts and acclimates itself to the spores. Or maybe I’m just lucky. Or there’s something wrong with me that has
yet to be discovered…
So anyways, I knew Friday night it was going to be a wet
morning. I know that stuff just from
what goes on in my bedroom and kitchen—and I don’t even have to look out the
window! I can even tell you how hard the
wind is blowing and in which direction sometimes. I was looking forward to a cool and overcast
run—in fact I hoped real hard that it would even sprinkle a bit.
I had no real goal specific to this marathon other than to
finish. My overall goal for all of my
marathons lately seems to be a sub-4 hour finish, so that’s what I was shooting
for—maybe if I got lucky I’d finish with a 3:50!
My splits are as follows: 7:53, 8:28, 8:31, 9:03 (potty
stop), 8:38, 8:59(potty stop), 9:03, 12:01 (potty stop), 7:41, 8:28, 8:40, 8:15,
8:25, 12:29 (potty stop), 8:54, 8:43, 8:22, 8:55, 8:36, 9:19, 9:43, 9:23, 10:41,
9:04, 10:17, 9:30, and 4:03.
After exiting Provo
Canyon and jumping on University Ave my
legs just began to cycle through a series of various aches and pains: My left
knee felt at times like there was sand in there. My right forefoot felt as though I were
running barefoot on it. My right calf
tightened up. Both quads were bickering
with each other to the point I threatened to pull off to the side of the road and
let them walk—and I did a couple of times but that didn’t seem to work out long
term. And I got a side stitch. I don’t remember when the last time I had a
side stitch was. And this one pestered
me from mile 18 all the way through to Center Street.
I finished to the cheers of my newly married daughter, my
youngest daughter, and my granddaughter.
After collecting my medal I walked over to them and the first thing my
youngest said to me was, “Dad, there was this one guy that finished with a
cigar!” I said, “Oh really? What a nut!”
I really like this course.
The uphill wasn’t all that bad—the worst for me being the climb just
before Bridal Veil Falls. My biggest issue is the concrete road from
the Sundance turnoff all the way to the mouth of the canyon and then again from
Lavell Edwards Stadium to the finish.
That stuff just seems to suck the energy right out of my legs. I ran on the dirt shoulder as much as
possible down the canyon but there wasn’t an option along University Ave. Oh well.
Number 43 is officially in the books. A week to recover for the Wasatch Back this
weekend and then I’m taking all of July off.
Somebody needs to hold me to that!
