Moab Trail Marathon

6 November 2014

The last time I trained for a marathon, my wife complained that it consumed too much of my time. When your long runs are eighteen miles long, lasting several hours, then I completely agree with her. This time, I decided to cure the problem by not training at all. She liked that.

It's not by choice, however, that I haven't ran at all for the last month. About two and a half months ago, I strained the ligament that runs directly behind my left knee. I stayed off of it for a couple weeks and I was able to run a half-marathon with no problems. Since then, every time I build up to seven or eight miles, it flares up and gives me problems. When it flares up, if I keep running on it, not only does the ligament hurt, but it causes pain in my entire knee. About a month ago, I decided to stay off of it completely - at least no running.

In two days I will run my very first marathon. (The first marathon I trained for didn't happen because of an injury.) I am scared to death. I have no idea if my strained ligament will flare up again, and my longest run is only thirteen miles.

During the last month, I have done my best to keep my cardio up, but that is difficult when you can't use your legs. Cross-training hasn't worked because it works the same muscles that I need to rest. My typical regimen consists of a mini-cross-fit workout that focuses on arms and stomach, followed by a twenty minute yoga session. I have altered my diet to include a daily breakfast of oatmeal with flax seed, nuts, chia seeds, and bananas. My vitamin pack includes vitamin C, zinc, magnesium, and fish oil.

What I am trying to explain is that I am trying the best to maintain fitness without exercising very much. But this marathon is still daunting. Not only is it a twenty-six mile race, but it is a trail marathon. That means that if I get injured during the race, they can't just haul me out. The sections with access to a road are several miles apart. It also means that it is not all downhill. The race starts and ends at the same point.

If I weren't injured, I would be very excited. The scenery will be beautiful! We'll see how it goes. If the injury flares up in the first few miles, then I'm toast. If it flares up halfway, then I have a fighting chance, but it will be a long day. If I can make it past the up-hill climb at mile 14, then I will be in decent shape.

I leave tomorrow morning for Moab. The race begins in two days. It's hard to say how my injury is feeling, because paranoia can do crazy things to a person, and just today I have felt the injury move from my left knee, to my kidney, to my hip, to my right knee, then to my left calf. Makes sense, huh? But, the great thing about any race is that adrenalin kicks in. Adrenalin can take away pain and make you do things that you never thought possible.

7 November 2014

I am in Moab now, camping in my vehicle at the Drinks Campground on the Colorado River. I am here for the marathon tomorrow and drove over by myself. I picked up my packet at Milts, a local hamburger joint and popular hangout. I arrived at the campground at dusk and spent my first half hour taking pictures. Then I used the gas-stove to cook pasta from a box.

This location is nice. I am just above the water. From here I can hear a patch of white rapids. The rest of the water is placid. Steep walls rise up on both sides of the river. The paradox of this peaceful location is the constant commotion of traffic. For being out in the boonies, the road is very busy. My plan tonight is to read until I'm tired. I brought For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway.

I am excited for tomorrow, and so far, my body feels great.

8 November 2014, 7 a.m.

One hour until start time. I am in the parking lot waiting, next to the Kane Springs Road. I am parked much closer to the starting line than I anticipated. I woke up at 6:00 and left the campground at 6:45. There was fog in the lower valley of Moab.

Here, the sun hasn't yet crept over the horizon, but it is shining on the cliff walls. We are next to the river. People are beginning to arrive. There is music and the MC is announcing time and other information. It is cold. Most people are bundled up in their cars. The full moon is still up. Some people are moving around and stretching.

6:50 p.m.

I am done! Both knees hurt like heck and I am icing them now – twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. This is by far the most beautiful race I have ever done.

Before starting, I probably felt better than any race I have ever participated in. I think this in large part due to the good sleep I've had all week. I took some sort of sleeping pill every day.

I began roughly at 8:44 in the third wave. The first several miles felt great. We ran up Pritchett Canyon along a jeep trail. Most of it was sand, but there were rocks also. Looking down at the placement of the feet was a necessity most of the time, but I had to look up to see the scenery. During this point, I was passing far more people than passed me. Gaining this extra ground saved my bacon later in the race.

We passed three jeeps along the trail. I don't think they were anticipating a marathon when they planned their trip.

A small arch stood high on the rock wall on the right-hand side of the canyon.

After completing the first major hill at approximately four miles, I could begin to feel two areas of my body tightening up: my right piriformis muscle and my left calf. I am certainly no doctor, so my diagnosis of the piriformis muscle may be a little shaky. Whatever it was, it was in the area of tissue where the top of the leg meets the buttocks.

At 5.6 miles, I welcomed the first aid station and took the chance to stretch the two areas of my leg that were tightening up. The stretches felt good, but once I continued running, I found that I wasn't passing as many people.

We passed a solitary spire and another arch. A deep canyon opened up on our left. One of the runners who passed me commented, “You're running with wings!” The comment caught me off-guard and I thought he meant that I was running fast, which I knew wasn't the case. Then it made sense to me. He read the back of my shirt which had an image of an angel and words to commemorate my daughter, Brittany, who had passed away. He was the first person to say anything about the shirt and I was grateful that someone noticed.

The tightness in my left calf went away, but that in my piriformis muscle continued. My right knee hurt a little bit, and I wondered if blisters were forming on my feet.

At about mile 8, we came to a short, but steep decent toward the road at Kane Creek. One of these descents included a ten foot drop down a crack in the rock. At the bottom, we crossed a little creek and soon came to the aid station.

I refueled with Heed and grabbed some grub from the table. Each station was well furnished with goo, cookies, pretzels, gummy fruit snacks and granola bars. I also refilled my own water bottle.

This aid station was at 9.7 miles. It was here that I first felt the true pain in my left knee. By mile 10, I knew that my injury was back. From this point on, it was never the same.

Here we met the Kane Creek road, and the half-marathoners ran right, and we, left.

Running on a flat-surfaced graveled road was nice. I thought I would have to walk, but slowing my pace was enough to keep me going. People started passing me.

When we turned up Hunter Canyon, it was a different story. This was an out-and-back section where you punch your bib about a mile up the canyon. The trail was constant sand and all up and down. Both were excruciating.

It was on this section that a shirtless guy commented he liked my shirt. When he passed, I saw that his back had “In memory of _________,” tattooed or marked on it.

I managed to make it to the punch and back to the road. After the next aid station at mile 14, we left the road and ran through a tamarisk-filled forest. The pain in my knee had temporarily lessened a bit, but just in time for the big hill.

This is the big climb of the race on a seldom used, old jeep trail. It is called “Scorched Earth Wall.” I knew that it would not be smart to run this hill, and to my surprise, no on else ran it either, with a few exceptions. That meant I wasn't losing time. I don't know how long we walked up this hill, but the road went on forever.

Scorched Earth Wall

By the time we reached the top, we had great views of the Colorado River, the La Sal Mountains and best of all, we were at mile 16.

The next six miles all blend together and they were the most scenic of the entire run. The snow-capped La Sal Mountains peaked out around several corners. Red boulders and hills, juniper trees, with cactus scattered about, just to keep you on your toes. Several ledges provided great views below.

We began to pass bikers as we were sharing their trail. I noticed landmarks such as Captain Ahab's Rock and Hymasa Trail.

The trail was difficult to follow in spots. Red ribbons tied on branches and bushes marked the entire route, and here was no exception. Several times I found myself stopped at a red ribbon, unable to spot the next one. The route seemed to be tortuously crooked.

Near mile 20, a sweeping view of the river comes to sight, and the downhill begins. This section hurt like the dickens. I grunted or groaned with nearly every step. As had been the case since mile 10, people continued to pass me. I walked many small sections of the downhill, and where I didn't walk, it wasn't a very fast run.

At one point, you could probably do a 200 foot dive into the river. A paved road hugged the opposite side of the river. In the far distance we could see the finish line, and hear the announcer on the loud speaker.

At last, we arrived at the finish line, or at least we passed just below it on a sandy path along-side the tamarisk. There is an aid station here and it is mile 23.

For the last three miles, we made a long loop. We crossed a creek, climbed a ladder, and ran beneath the road through a giant culvert. A small tunnel blasted into the rock is brief, but shady. Much of the route is sand, and not very fun to run in.

Although difficult to see, this is the ropes section.

A rope section leads the runners up a precarious ledge. Holding onto the rope was a mandatory. The man assisting at this section asked if I had enough water because, I was "looking kind of staggery.”

The route continued through sand and over rock, and always up and down. Any significant uphill, I always walked. I found, at this stage of the race, that I could walk uphill as fast as most others could run.

We circled back toward the finish line, with only 1 ½ miles to go. I had been in constant pain for the last three hours, but I was proud of myself for still running. Much slower, but still running. Yes, I had walked when the pain was too much to bear, but the walks were always short-lived.

Our big loop connected back with the trail and we came upon the path near the huge culvert and ladder. One small run along the tamarisk jungle, then I climbed up a very steep and sandy hill to the finish line.

The time for my first marathon was 5 hours and 55 minutes. They handed me a finishers mug, and for the next hour, I walked around to cool down and stretched a couple of times. Quickly, my right knee began to hurt and for the rest of the evening, I looked like a crippled old man with two bum knees.

One of the runners, Jeff from Provo, came up and commented on my shirt and asked me questions about my daughter. That gave me the opportunity to talk about Brittany and to meet a new person. His wife and daughter were there and he had ran the half-marathon last year.

Food was in plentiful supply: soup, quesadillas, chips, cookies, and all the usual food from the aid stations.

Despite all the grub, I wanted to drive into Moab and use my five dollar coupon at Milt's. I ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and fries. The line was long because everyone else in the race had a coupon also. My knees did not like the wait. By the time I ordered and received my food, my limp was bigger and the pain more intense.

Then I stopped at the Maverik in Moab and bought two Gatorade's and filled my cooler full if ice. I asked the cashier if he had a couple spare plastic bags that I could use. We found them in the trash can.

I left the food in the bag and drove thirty miles to Thompson Canyon before I ate it. By this time, the sun was down again, and I was alone. I ate the hamburger and fries and they really hit the spot. Then I stepped out of the vehicle and walked around to get blood circulating in my legs. Both legs were stiffening up from the drive and I was know feeling greater soreness in my quads and calves. Cold wind blew and I could feel it seep through my nylon mesh shorts.

I returned to the vehicle, to the back seat now, where the seats were laid down and a long foam mattress laid flat. That is where I sit now. Icing my knees.  Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off.

I just had to throw this in.