Running the Redrock

Only Southern Utah’s Red Rock Country would motivate us to deviate from our prescribed plan. Despite previous opportunities and even the allure of some very beautiful places, we had essentially agreed that we would only run half-marathons and that each race needed to give us a new state until we had reached our goal.
Luckily, we knew southern Utah well enough to think maybe THIS race ought to be an exception. And so it was. And we have no regrets. We ran the Red Rock.

The seed was actually planted in training runs months ago. We would occasionally – and in places typically only runners spend much time – see signs about “Running the Red Rock”. I took the bait and went to the website and learned about the inaugural running of a 180-mile relay that was to begin at Brian Head Ski Resort, travel south past Cedar Breaks, then up onto the Kolob Terrace through a section of Zion, and then through Hurricane and St. George, before cutting a final loop north to return to St. George through Snow Canyon. It sounded beautiful – and the advertised 8,000 drop in elevation was appealing. After consulting with my car pool partner (Will) – who I knew had participated in a number of such relays – we decided to do it. About six weeks later we were registered and had put together a team of six men and six women which included two other coworkers (one of which was also a neighbor), two ward members, five people who knew or had previously run relays with Will and, of course, Karen. CW's West Desert Incinerators were a reality. (CW for Carl and Will, of course.)

The race was run over the Friday and Saturday of Labor Day weekend. Although we had a team meeting and did some “team runs” (4-5 of us), the first time we had the entire team together was at Brian Head about 45 minutes prior to our start time on Friday. However, I think all of us were excited and, to some extent, ready. We put our first runner on the chair lift at 11 a.m.; when he reached the top, his first leg was to run down. Thirty-five legs and nearly 26 hours later, around 1 p.m. on Saturday, 11 of us ran the final 100 yards with our last runner. During those 26 hours each of us ran three legs; all of us ran legs at night; several of us ran legs in driving rain with lightning illuminating the skies (to include yours truly); many of us ran the “unadvertised” uphills (yes, two of my legs had grueling climbs and Karen averaged more feet ascended per mile ran than any other team member);

two of us ran through mud so slick and sticky as to make walking a challenge (I was one of the two); most of us traversed sections of breathtaking scenery (my last leg, just before the final leg was possibly the most gorgeous leg of the race – a downhill through Snow Canyon); many of us ran at elevations where we knew the oxygen had been removed (and I had one of these, which also happened to be with rain, in the mud and with a grueling climb!);
and each van of six became a pretty tight-knit group – dedicated to taking care of and becoming the biggest fans and supporters of our teammates.

>Despite the challenges of the runs (to include the unexpected road blockage by about a million sheep), it was a memorable, even enjoyable and very worthwhile experience – and one we would be willing to repeat. The team members and camaraderie were great and, in a sport that usually emphasizes independence and “going it alone”, it was a reminder that interdependence is really what makes some things special.

We ran the Red Rock. The exception was a good one.

In keeping with our running tradition, we even made a bit of a trip out of the relay. Sunday afternoon we spent in Snow Canyon hiking and gawking - what a great place for a family outing! That was followed by late afternoon glow on the Kolob Canyon walls of Zion NP. Monday included a stop in Cedar Breaks and then several hours of hiking in Bryce Canyon before heading home. Would be hard to think of a better weekend!












Key to Pictures:
Top 2 - Incinerators before the race at Brian Head
Next 2 - Along the route - try running through sheep! Cedar Breaks backdrop
Next 3 - Van #1 runners and Van logos to psyche out the opposition (thanks to Alan and Jen for the van, by the way.)
Next 3 - Karen - our team mountain goat!
Next 4 - Yours Truly, in the mud, without oxygen with Snow Canyon ending
Next 2 - Incinerators - you did it!
Next 4 - Snow Canyon
Next 2 - Kolob Section, Zion NP
Next 2 - Cedar Breaks
Final 4 - Bryce Canyon

Running from Forests to Spuds

No Southwest? It has been a long while since we did a race that wasn’t at the end of a Southwest flight, but such was the case the weekend of the 22^nd of August when the Toyota took its place. The race was the Mesa Falls Marathon and Half-Marathon. The location: Ashton Idaho. We picked this as one of several good options in Idaho and it turned out to be a nice trip. The course itself didn’t prove to be quite as scenic as billed, because only the marathon started high enough on the mesa to go by the very impressive falls, but it was still nice. We started in evergreen forests well above the surrounding plains, ran some single track trails for several miles on the way off the mesa, then crossed the river…and were in for a surprise! We knew the elevation was a bit higher than we normally run, but not until the day before the race when I looked at the elevation profile did I see there was LOTS of uphill in the course! After we crossed the river we started a grade that lasted nearly three miles and got us on the high plains with potato fields on both sides...and lots of rolling hills...and lots of sun...and much warmer than normal temperatures...and no shade…and not quite as many water stops as might have been nice. Consequently, it was definitely not a fast race, but we successfully completed it and enjoyed the small town atmosphere – definitely a change from our previous race in downtown Chicago.

While in the area we enjoyed a nice trip to Bear World and some huckleberry milkshakes. Rachel got a kick out of driving through the animal preserve and enjoyed the bears, the elk, the deer...and, of course, the rides that were there for kids.


We also planned on enjoying the scenic route along the Tetons on the way home – to include a hike up onto Table Mountain, but the weather didn’t cooperate very well, so we had limited views of the mountains and lots of rain most of the way home. We did manage one short hike at the summit between Bear Lake and Logan, but that was it.

My thoughts DURING this race were focused on making it up the hills and noting I was running much slower than I had anticipated. However, afterwards it occurred to me how nice a small-town race can be, too. We might be inclined to discount the small towns and communities, but they can have a charm all their own.


We went to the pasta dinner the night before the race at the elementary school and it was quaint – but also impressive to find so many people from far-flung places who had come to Ashton, Idaho to run a race. Ashton even had a runner’s breakfast for us before the race – and that was just about a first. Oh….and by the way, did I mention I took second place in my age group?!? One of the other benefits of a smaller race!

All in all, another good race and another State checked off - #34.

Running a PR in the Big City

Several years ago, someone made the now-famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) statement: "It takes a village." Perhaps there is also truth to it when converted (and modified slightly) to a running outcome: "It takes a city." Such was the case last week when, after several months of coming up just short, I reset my (Karen-era) PR (Personal Record) for the Half with a 1:43:12 in the Rock 'n Roll Chicago Half-Marathon. Let's hear it for the Windy City! (By the way - this nickname has nothing to do with Chicago's winds off Lake Michigan - which are well-known - but rather with the politicians who have been inextricably linked to the city for probably close to a century.)
After running 33 half-marathons with Karen - many of which were on some truly scenic landscapes - I wouldn't necessarily have expected Chicago to rank right up there. However, I must give credit where credit is due. In its own right, it was a very scenic course. It started before 6 a.m. on race morning from our (unexpectedly) deserted parking space on a spit of land extending into Lake Michigan to the Planetarium. The views back across the lake into the city in the early light were truly impressive. The course itself ran through several miles of skyscrapers, across the Chicago River a couple of times, then south out of the city center until it intersected the lake shore, after which it returned north into the city along Lake Michigan. It was flat. The weather stayed reasonably comfortable. The elevation was negligible. The crowds and music were pretty good. And my wheels stayed on! My pace averaged just under 7:53/mile and my time shaved almost 30 seconds off my previous best in Nashville last year. Both were huge races (Nashville nearly 30,000 and Chicago half of that) and both had decent crowds and music. Who knows - maybe there are factors we don't give much credence to; or maybe we just run well for unexplainable reasons. After all, it WAS Chicago - Karen's city - maybe that was also a factor. She, too, had a good race - though not a PR. In any event, I was happy with the race and reassured that I can still turn in a pretty good time. And if I find a small enough race - maybe I can even place, so Karen wouldn't be the only one with trophies! (In Chicago, I was 16 of 211 in my age division, so felt pretty good about that, as well.)
Okay - enough beating my own drum. It was also a good visit. We stayed with Karen's Mom and had some great afternoons and evenings of food and games. The family really enjoys card games and, of course, Karen and I are willing participants. Between the two of us, Karen's siblings and her Mom, spouses and kids, we played many rounds of Pinochle, Injun Joe, and Cribbage. We also watched Karen's nephew play a few games in a regional baseball tournament (which they eventually won) and we enjoyed an afternoon reunion with a group of Karen's friends from her college days. There really wasn't much sightseeing with this trip, but a good one, nonetheless. Karen and Rachel stayed a few extra days after they sent me home to work, with some swimming, more visiting, more eating and general relaxation.

The race also offered up some wisdom in its running. Often - when we set out to accomplish a challenging goal or project - we have a very definite plan. We work hard, we train and when it is time to perform, we rely on that plan and our ability to execute it exactly as we envisioned. However, I'm sure we have also recognized in our efforts that Murphy is alive and well. When something doesn't go according to plan, it is easy to get rattled, lose confidence and before long find ourselves coming up short. Such was the case with this race. I had a plan and knew exactly how I wanted to run the early miles of the race. I also knew I would be relying on my Garmin to keep me on the desired pace and keep me from running too fast too early. What I didn't bargain for were several long tunnels (e.g. a quarter-mile under the Convention Center) or underpasses in the first 3-4 miles of the race. If the Garmin can't acquire satellites, its utility is severely impacted. By mile 3, the anxiety of not really knowing my pace (I also didn't see timer boards or mileage markers until then) was taking its toll. It was then that I had the insight that had escaped me so often in the past. If the tunnels were behind me, I could still find and keep a pace the rest of the way and, ultimately, all I REALLY could do was run,...run hard,....and keep running. Within another two miles I had figured out how to use the Garmin with the timer boards and mileage markers that were now prominently located along the route. And when I got to those tough miles, 9-11, and realized no one was passing me - my indicator that I was running the race I wanted to run - I knew I had a good shot at the PR. The message? Stay flexible with your plan. They are great tools, but don't let the fact that a deviation occurs take you off course. More than likely your plan doesn't represent the only way to achieve the desired outcome. Hang in there, stay confident and tweak the plan on the run.
It took a big city. Chicago rocks! Thirty-three states checked off.

Running the Green Mountains

Not every State’s nickname will immediately lead you to a correct picture of what you might expect to see there.

I mean, really – what might you expect to see in the “Natural” State of Arkansas? Or what “Old Line” are you supposed to see in Maryland? And how many of us have really seen that many Beehives in Utah? But there are some VERY aptly named exceptions – one of those being the site of our last run – the Green Mountain State of Vermont. Indeed, the State was covered with mountains – even REAL Mountains (from an eastern perspective) and all of them were green. It was a beautiful State, a very nice trip, a good race – and a place we know we need to get back to in the fall.




If you think of the postcard that is Vermont – you are not far off. We saw quaint villages with their white churches on the town common/green (to wit, St. Johnsbury). We saw the mountains, lakes and forests which, by the way, seem to cover the entire state.
We saw covered bridges, beautiful streams and waterfalls. We saw Vanderbilt estates (Shelburne Farms) above Lake Champlain and New York across the lake from a morning cruise. We even saw the alpine lodge established by the Von Trapps (after Sound of Music, of course), the corporate home and ice cream plant of Ben & Jerry’s, an Ivy League campus (Dartmouth) and Joseph Smith’s birthplace near Sharon. Yes – it’s a small state – but it packs a pretty good punch per square mile.




As for the race (Covered Bridges Half-Marathon, June 7th), it was the most highly-hyped run we have done. The 2000+ field of runners was full just over 30 minutes after registration opened six months ago. Needless to say, expectations were high. Almost too high. Don’t get me wrong; it was a pretty course in a very pretty area. It started at a small ski area near Pomfret and ran along the valley’s river through a covered bridge to the very picturesque town of Woodstock and then to the Quechee Gorge. There were a couple of hills along the route, but nothing overly serious. Both Karen and I had good times, with mine being about 20 seconds slower than my “Karen-era” PR, which I tied in May in Michigan.
So why “almost too high” you may be asking? Perhaps because of the scenery experienced in the days leading up to the race and because we didn’t get to run through half a dozen covered bridges. Not to mention the fact that there wasn’t a finisher’s medal presented (which certainly wasn’t because the registration fee was low), nor were the post-race victuals very good. Okay – perhaps I’m getting a bit greedy – but expectations are what they are. It certainly was a good trip – one which we thoroughly enjoyed with Karen’s Mom as our traveling companion and dedicated Rachel nanny.





As for the deep, philosophical thoughts (should that be your expectation) – would you settle for a couple of minor ones – worth thinking about the next time you shave? If so, I would just say that expectations are powerful. They color our experience and can influence our perspective – both positively and negatively. Be careful as they form in order to enjoy, appreciate and learn from every experience to the maximum extent possible.


Also – and tied to expectations – be careful how fast you start. You’ll seldom, if ever, see the winner fading at the end. Know thyself. Pace thyself. Don’t run out of gas before the course is finished.