Denver Marathon-- rain, pain and da plane
october 14, 2007

City of my birth, site of my rebirth-- as a marathoner. 5280 feet, 40 degrees and pouring rain. What a fantastic experience, sacrificing two virgins to the marathon gods, and finding that my strategy to return to marathon was succesful. Despite this being my slowest marathon by nearly 45 minutes, this is the one I am the most proud of and the most excited about. 5:27:09, 12:29 pace. Crossing the finish line with Wendy and Herdis was the best experience I've ever had of the 20 other marathons and beyond I've done-- just barely eclipsing my 11:05 finish of the Ownens-Putnam 50 mile ultra with my running brother Saint Stephen. If only Steve would have been there to help with the sacrifice, this would have been perfect. Of course a nice sunny day (what one would expect in Denver where the sun shines >300 days a year) would have been nice too.

The journey to this marathon began one week to the day before my last marathon, Marine Corps Marathon, Oct 26, 2003. It was on that Sunday when Saint Stephen and I were in the last two blocks of my last tune up run before MCM when I took a step that sent shooting pain into my right knee. My knee swelled up and I could barely walk. But by week's end after icing it and taking copious amounts of ibuprofin, by the time we arrived in DC for the marathon, I was pretty much back to normal. The next time I ran was in the marathon, which I ran with my nephew Paul- his first. The marathon was OK for a hot humid day and it wasn't until the very end that my knee started hurting. Paul took off and stormed the Iowa Jima memorial while I just finished-- 4:45. All season long my leg hurt, not my knee as much as my outer lower leg. My base running decreased, I saved myself for the long runs. Finally after a lousy year with progressively more pain, I finally went to see the doctor. The MRI showed massive bone bruising and multiple stress fractures in the left knee due to the meniscus erosion in my right knee. Ah, that explained the pain-- bone on bone. Prognosis for more running was not good. Take up power walking was the suggestion. It took two years of therapy, strength training and Pilates, gradually building up to a graded run-walk program until I could actually run again. Steve nurtured me the whole time, but it was really not until 2006 that I started to actually do some running. I had to learn the difference between good pain and bad pain, and I stopped taking ibuprofen which evidently masked how much pain I was in. When I started to bike in earnest, commuting to UIC on my bike every day, and doing some distance riding, I started to feel so much better. So much so that I decided to run the 2006 Denver marathon to have a goal for my recovery. But Wendy and Edgar decided to get married on Oct 15, 2006, the date of the 1st annual Denver marathon, so instead of running Denver, Ryder and I enjoyed a lovely weekend in Santa Cruz at the wedding. I made a pact with Wendy at her wedding, that on her first anniversary we would run the Denver marathon together-- her first and in many ways, my fist marathon as well.

Wendy and I trained virtually together as she faced the challenge of ramping up her mileage while being an airline pilot. I had visions of her jogging up and down the concourse between flights. Just after Labor Day we exchanged stories of our longest run to date, each of us doing 18 or more miles. Amazing to me was that I was run/walking 8:2 and she was doing a 5:5 run/walk interval-- and we both did the 18 mile run at 11:00 pace. I had a sudden rush of confidence, I knew we could do this together, and both finish. She barely mentioned that she was doing her training with Herdis, so it was a real pleasure to discover I would have two companions to challenge the Denver marathon come Oct 14.

My sister Ginni who hosted my visit for the marathon, arranged a grand pre-marathon feast for all the extended family. Much to my delight my sister Traci and her husband Pat drove up from their new home in Lamar, and my big brother John and his wife Barb flew in from California to see their daughter Wendy do the marathon. I arrived in Denver a few days early, having arranged to get invited to give a seminar at my alma matter, the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center. I got to visit the beautiful new medical center campus at the old Fitzsimmons Naval Hospital (the site of my pre-induction physical in 1970, before I didn't go to the Naval Academy-- but that's another story). Being in Denver for 3 extra days helped me acclimate to the altitude just a bit more, though truly, the altitude was the least of my worries come race day. At the gala dinner Wendy, Herdis and I strategized about our race, figured out where to meet and negotiated the pace we would run at. I had tried 5:5 on my last long, 24 mile training run and felt that the walk interval was too short-- I was dialed in to 8:2. Wendy and Herdis did not want to run longer than 5, so we settled on 5:3 as our prescribed pace, and Wendy set her watch timer accordingly. I suggested we might run 10:3 for the first two miles and they agreed.

I woke at 5:30 on race day and my sister had coffee ready for me. I was out the door by 6 to catch the light-rail from far south Centennial, all the way to Union Station. The one thing I was not psychologically prepared for was rain. And as I stood, with three other runners waiting for the train, it was pouring rain. Pouring rain in Denver? not at all what I expected. Cool, sunny, breezy, maybe even snow-- but not rain. And it was cold too-- 40 degrees. On the train I adjusted my gear accordingly and was glad to have a hat and gloves with me. As soon as the shuttle delivered us from Union Station to the capital/civic center and start area, I went straight to the john, knowing how busy it was going to get. I found Herdis and Wendy on the steps of the capital, near the engraved sign "5280 feet". They were wearing garbage bags. Edgar and Allen, their husbands were there to collect their gear after they waited in long line for the johns, but we made it to the start in plenty of time. Off we went into the rain soaked cold Colorado morning.

The course wound its way around downtown through Lo-Do and past Coors Field. We ran comfortably, nearly forgetting to do the 3 minute interval. But by the time we go to mile 2, Wendy started her timer and I kept track of our splits. We averaged about 12 minute pace for the first 4-5 miles. We dutifully drank at each water station, but because it was so cold, we were not sweating, and kept having to stop to use the johns along the way. The crowd was sparse but supportive and the runners spread out nicely so we could run comfortably at our own pace. The course wound around City Park and the Zoo-- and I noted this was where I began my running career in the early 1980s when I was in grad school and lived near the park. So far it was pretty flat, just one gradual hill up 17th to the park. We stuck to our pace and the three of us were having a comfortable run despite the cold and rain. Once you get wet, it stays about the same. My bare arms were the only place I was cold. Our next destination was Cheesman park, the site of my wedding nearly 25 years ago. When Wendy, Herdis and I ran by the park building where we had our reception, we all three of us cheered and waved our arms in the air, giddy with t he fun we were having. We saw John, Barb, Edgar and Allen for the first time about then. As we rounded the parked, Edgar and Allen had run across the grass to cheer us one more time before we headed west and then south onto Downing Blvd. Still running comfortably, but probably drinking too much, on 13th street near Wax Tracks, in the Bohemian district, I had to visit and ally, but easily caught back up with my mates on their next walk. It was about then when it started to get more interesting.

There was a very long hill from mile 13 to 14 and I found for the first time that the altitude did affect me a bit on the up hills. I was beginning to huff and puff while Herdis and Wendy seemed unaffected. We got to the 1/2 marathon split and it was 2:55, much slower than we expected. Wendy said that we had to pick up the pace and took off up the hill. We saw John and Barb again who waved and cheered for us as we trucked up the hill. I caught Wendy when she walked and we stuck together the whole rest of the race. Our pace dropped from nearly 13 min/mile to 11:30, to 10:00 when we rounded the hairpin and headed back down the big hill. Herdis caught us on the downhill and we stayed together until she started to run/walk at 3:2 intervals. Wendy and I stuck to 5:3, and were staying pretty close to 11:30 pace. As the course neared Washington park it go progressively hillier and I had to suck it up to hump up some of the short steep hills. We made it to Washington park about mile 17 and caught the 5:30 pace group. Marie was the pace group leader carrying a balloon. She had a troop of 6 or so sticking close to her. The were running a mile and walking a minute it seemed as we kept trading places. When we got to mile 18 I heard them chant, in unison "18-17-16-15-14...3-2-1--5:30 rocks!" it was fun and distracting running near them.

When we entered the park, we ran past a one spectator who said "its hard-core today folks, hard-core". Indeed, the crowd had thinned and the runners were very spread out by then. It was now in the high 30s and still raining! The park was very exposed and the wind was gusting. We passed 19 and then 20, Wendy and I keeping pace with Herdis a few hundred yards back. We hooted and hollered at the camera man at mile 20 and he said "too bad we don't have sound!" 20 miles is always a great place to get to in a marathon. As we rounded the park, Wendy started to interview me about my ovarian cancer research. It was a nice distraction telling her about how omega-3 therapy had big effects on the hens and she asked intelligent questions as we plodded along. She had just explained several technical things about flying airplanes, about stalling them, about the Collins point of no return and how these planes were so fast you could make the wings break off if you throttled them up too much. Wendy is a captain flying for Air West, as if Edgar. Allen and Herdis are both pilots, but first officers (co-pilots). I was incredibly in awe of their tremendous accomplishment. Wendy is 33 and Herdis is 31.

As we made our way out of the park at mile 22 I noticed it had stopped raining and the temperature was dropping. The water station volunteer offered a foil blanket to me and said it was getting colder-- about 35 now. The sky had lightened but an ominous dark bank of clouds appeared to be approaching from the north. We ran north on Logan, then took 1st to Santa Fe Blvd, and entered the art district. Not the run down barrio of my youth, but a rapidly gentrifying funky adobe bohemian district now. Not that I could appreciate the architecture. As we hit Santa Fe and traveled north, the wind started blowing hard and rain picked up. It was like needles on my naked arms. I could not even feel my legs. I struggled with the walk as my quads and hips kept tying up in the cold. Herdis caught us about mile 23 and we stayed together the rest of the way. Wendy was excited to be at 23-- she said that her fist run was 3 miles and she knew no matter what she could run that distance. I remembered all the marathons I had done and recalled just how tough those last two or three miles can be-- that is what the marathon experience is all about-- when you are completely fatigued, in pain even, yet muster the umph to drive to the finish. I reached into my marathoner's toolbox and summons up what I needed to finish. I ate two gel blocks but got very nauseous. I hurt, my legs were tight and I was struggling. My buddies carried me through, never wavering. We took our last walk interval as we rounded Santa Fe and could see the Civic Center. We rounded the corner onto Broadway running and Herdis gave the Queen's wave with both hands-- 26 miles and 0.2 for the Queen! Such great spirit. Two blocks to go. We rounded the final corner and I felt my calf cramp on me, I thought I was going to crumple to the ground. No! I pushed through and we finished, the three of us at the same time, cheering and yelling, hooting and hollering, elated, ecstatic and relieved. We hugged and danced about as we were reunited with our family and Bella the wonder dog. 5:27. wow! 1462 out of 1563 finishers. Nearly the back of the pack. I was so happy-- and still am, to have completed a marathon again. This was such a special experience shared with two such wonderful people.

Of course it took us so long to complete the run, that by the time I had returned to Ginni's house, took a shower, had a bite to eat, and drove my rental car to the airport-- I missed my flight! I was faced with the possibility of having to stay in the Denver airport overnight-- there was one last Frontier flight at 8:45. By some freak of luck I got the very last standby seat on that last flight and was back in Chicago by 1 AM. It was a very long day, but what a totally excellent experience. Wendy, Herdis and I decided that perhaps we would train for a triathlon together for next year-- some place warm and interesting.